#I might try to upload on insta too but last time I tried to upload smth longer than 10 minutes it froze lmao

[keiksy-cake]

hey! I’m the same person who asked on YouTube, but do you think you can reupload your sub vs dub videos? Even if you just post them here on tumblr or send a Google drive link or whatever, I’d love to be able to see them again!

YES, I actually keep thinking about it and keep forgetting! 😭

Thank you for reminding, I have finally uploaded them to this google photos album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/LV4R8rXXfotAjVk59

I also hope to upload them on tiktok, probably in parts if tikok will let me (for context to others, I made Hetalia sub vs dub compilations on youtube but recently this person noted that they were all blocked!! All of them!!😭)

[zara2148]

Fethsteel Fic: Not Good Enough (For You)

So here we go, my take on how Fethry Duck joined F.O.W.L. and met Steelbeak. Less warning stuff for this one, mostly just implied abuse, though it’s clear Steelbeak has not had a pleasant history. Also, both he and Fethry have some self esteem issues... and there’s not exactly spoilers for “Lost Harp of Mervana,” but the new intro takes place right after it.

Also on AO3. Make sure leave kudos and comments there. I enjoy the feel of being applauded.

Huey was placing Isabella Finch's journal back in Uncle Scrooge's study when he spotted the tin can phone there, now connected to nothing. Scrooge held on to everything in the mansion, even seemingly useless things, on the grounds that it may one day come in handy again. 

It was one reason why Trash Day could be such a nightmare, though Scrooge was starting to learn how to let things go...

Huey found Della and Donald unpacking their gear off the sub, hanging up suits and boxing equipment until it was ready to be used again. "Uncle Donald? Mom? Do you know how to get in touch with Cousin Fethry? I think he'd love to hear all about Mervana."

"No, sorry, sweetie. I haven't heard anything from him since he rode off on the back of that... giant... fish..." Della shuddered in remembered revulsion.

"Mom, it was a krill."

"A fish is still a fish by any other name."

"You also seemed fine with Mitzy at the time."

"I was too busy thinking about all the Moonlanders we had to beat up."

Donald sighed and turned away from a crate to answer Huey’s question. “I haven’t heard from him either since then.” He shrugged. "But that's normal for Fethry. He either calls every five minutes or he gets so wrapped up in something we don't hear from him for six months."

"Doesn't he have a cell phone we could call?”

"Knowing Fethry, it would just get dropped in the ocean." There was a reason Scrooge only trusted Fethry with a tin can after one too many busted phones.

Huey’s beak twisted in discomfort. “But what if he got in trouble? What if he needed our help?”

Donald let out a breath, more frustrated with himself than anyone else, even Fethry. He knelt in front of Huey and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Fethry is…” Cuckoo bananas really hadn’t been the right thing to say to Huey, not when Donald could see the similarities between the two of them. Unsure how else to finish that sentence, he tried again.

“Fethry is who he is. But he’s also a grown adult capable of making decisions and taking care of himself. If he ever needs us, he knows where we are.”

Della grinned proudly. “He’s a part of the Duck family. Surviving is what we do.”

Uncle Donald and Mom weren’t wrong about that. Cousin Fethry had survived alone in a collapsing sea base for years. He knew the Junior Woodchuck guidebook from cover to cover, just as Huey did. He was better prepared than most to face trouble when it found him.

"Okay, I'll just make sure to write down all my observations about Mervana to share with him when he gets in touch."

Donald gave Huey a smile. "I'm sure he'll love that."

***

“Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”

It was an old refrain at this point. 

The last job interview he had, Fethry had spent a full half-hour talking about the eating habits of krill and the merits of singing when asked about his team management skills. 

The interview before that, he spoke briefly about the endless silence of the ocean when asked how he dealt with workplace difficulties. He’d been too quiet after that question.

And the interview before that… well, he didn’t think that room was ever going to be the same.

Fethry’s laptop was old. Wires were sticking out and duct tape was barely holding the screen together. He browsed through the listings for scientists on Quacked In, tweaking his cover letter and resume slightly for each.

Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe he should try for a slightly smaller position at a lab, like a custodian! He had experience keeping things in custody! And then he could work his way up from there. 

But the little Donalds had such faith in him. They believed he could be a great scientist. Fethry wasn’t going to let them down. He never really realized until it was too late, but Fethry knew he had a habit of letting his family down.

Gladstone had offered to help, after that big event with purple people from the sky… ahh, yes, the invasion! But Fethry knew how often people tried to get close to his cousin to use his luck. Family shouldn’t do that.

The next listing didn’t quite catch his eye. But Fethry was at the point of applying for everything that came up for “scientist” and read through what little there was.

“WANTED: Skilled scientists for private company in Duckburg. Duties will vary. Flexible work schedule, late nights occasionally required. Must be able to roll with the punches.”

He had no expectations that it would progress to a job offer. How he chose to look at was that he was doing really well on reaching his goal of 100 job rejections. He’d read all about re-framing your objectives for positivity!

Once he reached 100, well, he might as well try for 200 rejections then.

He reviewed his resume and cover letter on the final submission screen. He clicked “Send.”

Then he moved onto the next listing and thought no more of it.

***

F.O.W.L.’s computer settings were extremely sensitized when it came to tracking the movements and activities of the Duck-McDuck clan. They knew when Hubert Duck received a new merit badge, or when Dewford Duck uploaded another video to his overlooked Insta, or when Llewellyn bought a soda that wasn’t Pep branded.

Any diversion from or progress in the Duck’s family’s normal routine could be significant. That’s why they monitored it all.

So when a member of the Duck family applied for one of their vacant positions, it got noticed. Alarms went off, alerting the highest-ranking members in F.O.W.L. command.

Just ten minutes after the application was received, Bradford clicked through it on his laptop.

F.O.W.L. could just ignore this. Stay away from the Duck family until they were more ready to move out in the open. It would be a sensible move.

But there was potential here he couldn’t overlook.

Fethry Duck was one of the harder members to track ever since the McDuck SubLab crumbled into an undersea abyss. Satellite images last had him riding some sort of kaiju across the ocean, which was just typical when it came to the Duck-McDuck family.

When the moon invaders came they had made many mistakes, such as caring more about the acknowledgment of their perceived superiority than how they could exploit the Earth. But they had been right that it was better to have all members of that family accounted for when it came to global-scale plans.

Having Fethry under constant watch at F.O.W.L. would leave Gladstone as the most transient variable. And the lottery winnings and sweepstakes prizes he left in his wake would make him infinitely easier to track.

Fethry was also one of the more controllable members of the Duck family. Neither misfortune nor ostentatious fortune dogged his steps. He didn’t question intention and he didn’t try to stir up trouble for his amusement. He was so lacking in ambition that he stayed in a lonely janitorial position for almost five years. If he was taken to a lab and given every reason to stay, he likely would do so without seeing anything amiss.

His goal was to steal the world right out from under Scrooge. Why not start by stealing a member of the man’s family? One Scrooge was unlikely to miss for quite some time, given his avoidance of Fethry’s company.

Yet for a duck who didn’t believe in handouts, it said something that Scrooge still cared enough about Fethry to give him a string of jobs that he more or less performed adequately. He’d prefer it not come to threats, especially since harm to his family made Scrooge predictably savage. But if worse came to worse… better to have a hostage than do without.

And if he was useless? Disposing of him would be no hardship.

He clicked “Accept” and composed a brief response, suggesting a range of times that Fethry could visit a front location in downtown Duckberg.

After opening up the email and reading through it, Fethry squealed and picked out the earliest possible time. 

***

Fethry hummed as he walked inside the address the email gave him. It was a plain building, notable only for its pristine white exterior that seemed all too blank.

He’d dressed up nice for the occasion. His red jacket was replaced with a slightly frayed and browned business suit jacket. His tie was a piece of dried kelp that Mitzy had picked out for him. She always had the best eye when it came to kelp. And his cap was still present, keeping his thoughts toasty warm!

Yet his throat felt clogged and simultaneously too dry. The papers in his hand would be wrinkled if he clutched them any tighter. There was a heavy feeling in his chest that told him he’d be out of here soon enough, and he would need to try his luck elsewhere.

A duck with a dirty face and ruffled hair sat behind the visitor’s desk. Her name tag read “Ample.”

He approached her without his usual bounce. “Hello, I’m here for an interview.”

She nodded and glanced through the schedule. “Fethry Duck?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“The director is ready to see you now. Go through the double doors over there.”

He dipped forward in an awkward half-bow, unsure if a handshake would be too presumptuous. “Thank you!”

He pushed his way through the double doors. The room was in grey shadow, a large desk slightly off toward one of the corners. Two chairs were in front of the desk, facing the figure behind it.

The shadows slightly obscured the person behind the desk. He could make out a shape but no features.  

The shadow turned to him. “Ah, thank you for coming. Please take a seat.”

Fethry grabbed one of the chairs, shifting his paper copy of his resume as he looked at his interviewer up close.

Oh, he knew this vulture! He worked with Uncle Scrooge before! His name was buzzing around in the back of Fethry’s skull, waiting to be grabbed hold of…. what was it, what was it…?

“Bradley!”

“It’s Bradford,” he corrected in a cold tone. 

Fethry slumped back in his seat, feeling small. “O-oh, I’m sorry.”

Bradford did not take the time to acknowledge what he said. He sat “So, Fethry Duck. Scrooge’s nephew.”

“Yes.”

“You hold no degrees, no certifications that would qualify you for a scientific position.”

“... no.” Fethry knew how much those pieces of paper meant to people. He sunk into his chair, almost wishing it could swallow him up, the way the ocean did…

...and that was not a train of thought he needed to be boarding right now. Fethry stepped off a mental platform, letting it whiz by.

Bradford continued, neither noticing nor caring about Fethry’s inner world and its struggles. “And yet, you thought you could apply here, for a scientific position with us.” He stood up and started to circle around Fethry. “Do you know what we do here, Fethry?”

“Science?”

“Among other things.” Bradford paused behind Fethry. Fethry couldn’t quite bring himself to turn and look at him. “What we do here... let’s just say we're out to change the world.”

Bradford resumed his circle and came to a stop in front of Fethry. He let silence reign for a few seconds before speaking. “And Fethry Duck? We’re willing to give you the chance to join our ranks.”

Fethry had to swallow down dry disbelief. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Fethry’s hands were clammy as he held out his stacks of papers. His grip wasn’t shaking, but his limbs felt hollow. “You don’t even want to look at my resume first?”

“I’ve already seen it.”

He let his arms fall to his sides. His voice came out small, as if he was once again speaking from the bottom of the ocean. “Why me?”

Silence returned. Bradford considered him over his beak.

“You’re the unnoticed member of the Duck-McDuck family. Isn’t it time you had a chance to prove yourself?”

Bradford wasn’t wrong. He wanted that chance. But the implication that he was only getting this job because of his family...

Well. Wasn’t that how he got every job he ever had?

Bradford turned away from him and loomed his way back behind his desk. “Mind you, the job still isn’t much. You’ll be working in a lab on your own projects, yes. But you will remain under direct supervision for the time being. Before undertaking any venture, you are to submit a full report that outlines expected costs and outcomes, in accordance with our guidelines.”

He sat down, his back hunched to allow him to continue looming from a lower height. “The pay is minimum wage, but you can work your way up through experience. Food and board will be provided on-site, so that’s two fewer things you have to worry about.”

Fethry absent-mindedly fiddled with his kelp tie, his attention otherwise on Bradford as he continued.

“As you may have surmised, your work is to be considered top secret. For the time being, we will ask that you remain in the facilities to better learn your responsibilities. There is to be no contact with the outside world without prior approval. Otherwise, you put ourselves and the work we do at risk.”

“If you accept the job under these terms, a car will be dispatched to pick up you and any belongings you choose to bring tomorrow morning.” Bradford steepled his fingers and looked through Fethry. “Do you accept these conditions?” 

Fethry had forgotten he hadn’t said yes to anything yet. He wasn’t sure how he got so caught up that he missed that.

He could bring his team with him, their jar was extremely portable. But taking this job would mean saying goodbye to Mitzy for a while… hopefully, she would understand. 

He nodded, then said for emphasis, “Yes.”

“Well, then. Welcome, Fethry Duck, to…” Bradford paused again, his words trailing off into familiar silence. “... well, we’ll just call it your new place of work.”

***

There wasn’t a whole lot to do at their headquarters between missions. The funnest thing to do around here was to play all the arcade games after the kids had gone home for the day.

However, the last time Steelbeak did that he blew an entire paycheck and ended up with only 20 tickets to show for it—not even enough to trade-in for a piece of candy. That didn’t make him stupid, that made the games rigged.

Now he stuck to the actual secret parts of their secret lair, wandering the halls. His wallet stayed full and fat, but the time between missions dragged on and on.

The gun course was fun, but there was only so much offtime an agent was allowed there. Spend too much time shooting things and command would send you over to their quack shrink.

The rec room was okay, but he’d be fighting every off-duty Eggman there if he wanted to pick which channel to watch on the sole TV. Not that he wouldn’t win, but his time in the prison rec room, and the underground fighting ring’s rec room before that, taught him that victory wasn’t worth it if you couldn’t find any good shows playing.

Which is how he often ended up doing what he did right now, trailing after Heron down to the labs. He’d watch her and watch the other scientists, trying to see how what they did tied into F.O.W.L.’s big ol’ villain schemes.

Did he always understand what she was working on? No. Did she ever really try to explain it in an easily understood way? Also no. Did these trips to the labs often end with her metal hand clamped around his beak, hissing at him and calling him names? No, well, yes. Yes, it did.

… he was supposed to be going somewhere with this, but he wasn’t quite sure where. Wait, no, now he remembered. 

If he wanted to someday be the one hatching the schemes, he should watch how others hatched theirs first. It was like watching the prizefighter in the ring to learn how to beat him. Some people would only hit you if you asked them for anything, so you had to watch how they did something instead.

Most of the other scientists ignored him, and he didn’t pay them much attention either. But today, a duck in a red hat waved at them as he and Heron stepped inside the lab.

“Oh, hello! I’m Fethry!” The lab coat he was wearing hung loosely on him, clearly meant for a slightly larger bird.

“O-kaaay...?” Why was he expected to care?

A grin was spreading across Heron’s face as she looked the duck up and down. Then she turned her gaze to Steelbeak as she gestured offhandedly at the duck. “Fethry is our new marine specialist. He’ll be working on some of our most important projects.”

Heron… sounded like she was trying to hold back a laugh. What, was this smart guy really good at the jokes? Or did he know a party trick or two?

And what kind of name was Fethry? Might as well have called him “Webby” since he had webbed feet.

“Say, Fethry?” He knew that tone of voice from Heron. He didn’t always know the details of what she was saying, but he knew the sweetly sharpened tone was meant to cut someone down to size.

He felt… lighter, watching that tone be aimed at someone who wasn’t him. Like he was actually in on the joke for once. He also felt the urge to move to safer ground.

Heron’s smile was wide as she continued. “Why don’t you explain to my partner, Steelbeak, what you’re working on? He loves to hear about scientific experiments in great detail. Especially if you use a lot of long words.”

Okay, maybe he was still part of the joke.

Fethry’s eyes widened—he didn’t even know it was possible for someone to widen their eyes like that until Fethry did. “I’d love to!”

“Great!” Heron said in a passable imitation of Fethry’s enthusiasm. Under her breath she added, “Maybe now I can get some real work done.”

Steelbeak’s jaw tightened as she walked away. He refocused his gaze on the red-capped duck, who was all but jumping in place. 

A snort escaped him as he sat down at a table. At least if this pipsqueak tried to clamp his beak, he could just knock him into next week.

“So what are you working on?” This was still more exciting than watching the walls, after all.

Fethry laughed nervously. It had been a while since anyone paid him a significant amount of attention. “Well, at the moment I’m just filling out the request paperwork. But I’m hoping to start an experiment on delaying the eating habits of the crown of thorns starfish.”

“The what?”

“Crown of thorns starfish. It eats coral.”

“And that is?”

“Coral is like…” Fethry scratched his head. He could never remember all the big words like polyps, sessile, and Anthozoa when he needed to. “It’s like skeletons scattered across the seafloor that fish live in.”

“Really? So fish just decide to live in dead bodies.” Sounded fake, but at least it wasn’t boring.

“Well, coral is a skeleton, but it’s also alive. It’s really bad when they do die.”

“So the fish live in alive dead bodies.” This Fethry guy was talking an interesting sort of crazy.

“Skeletons, yes. Called coral. Only these sea stars eat the coral, so the fish have no place to live then.”

“Now, these sea stars start off eating algae. It’s been called the grass of the sea,” he explained before Steelbeak even had to ask. Fethry’s beak scrunched up. “Though I have to say, grass usually tastes much better.”

“How long it takes for the sea stars to go from algae to coral varies. And there’s a lot of these starfish in the ocean. If they made the switch all at once, they could do a lot of damage.”

Huh. For the guy’s first project, it had the makings of a decent scheme. “So… if you could figure out how to make them do it, you could have them eat the fish out of house and home?”

Fethry actually nodded at that. “Or if I could figure out a way to slow it down, I could buy time for the reefs to grow.”

“...huh.” He actually followed most of that. Sure in his mind, coral reefs had a lot more skulls than they normally did. But he got the gist of what Fethry was talking about.

Black Heron hummed as she worked without interruption. Fethry calculated the costs of feeding and housing a small colony of starfish, making sure to show his work. And Steelbeak imagined blackmailing a fishing village with an army of sea stars. Small potatoes when it came to true villainy, but everyone had to start somewhere.

***

It wasn’t one of Heron’s longer science sessions. She tapped at some keys, read some screens, fiddled with some gadgets, and was ready to leave in a couple of hours.

Fethry had remained in the lab, drawing up plans for a sea star’s dream home. They’d need plenty of walking room, he’d said, so he was drawing up little pathway designs. Including one for a yellow brick road.

He started to reach out a hand to Steelbeak… for what, Steelbeak wasn’t sure. His body tensed in defense.

And Fethry must have noticed because he let his hand drop to his side and just smiled instead. “Thanks for listening. I know I kind of ramble.”

Steelbeak waited a few seconds to be sure that Fethry wasn’t going to make any sudden moves. Then he gave a shrug and followed Heron out.

It hadn’t been a hardship. Listening to weird undersea stuff passed the time. It was like catching a documentary on TV, without the meatheads that would grab the remote from you and change the channel to something else.

Black Heron laughed at Fethry as soon as they left the lab. "That guy," was all she managed to say before chuckles overtook her.

Steelbeak scowled. “What? What did he say that was so funny?” Was he the butt of someone else’s joke again? He'd make him go splat, if so.

Heron regained control of herself, but she was still grinning. “He didn’t have to say anything. It’s comical that he’s even here.”

The scowl receded and his brows knit in confusion. “I don’t —”

“You don’t get it, I know. Lucky for you, I’m in a good enough mood to explain. He’s Scrooge McDuck’s nephew. You remember, the guy you were supposed to get out of the arcade?”

“The big guy who wrecked one of my suits?”

“Ugh, no! He was the one wearing a top hat.” A frown flitted across her face, but her good mood was quick to reassert itself. Past failure meant little in the face of such a hilarious triumph.

“He came to us, wanting a job. He has no idea that we’re F.O.W.L. and no idea that we’re working against everything his family stands for. We’re holding him hostage, and he has no clue.” Another peal of laughter escaped Heron.

Steelbeak let out a chuckle as well, now that he was finally in on the joke. "Ahh, I get it. Classic dum-dum. What kind of idiot doesn't know who they're working for?"

The grin on Heron’s face slipped slightly.

"This should go without saying, but I know you so I'll say it anyway. Do not tell Fethry any details of your work, your missions, what we do here. Nada. Nothing."

"Well, duh. I know that. That's why they're called secret missions."

"Steelbeak, I once saw you brag about being a secret agent at a bar to try and get a date."

"And why not! They were cute!"

“And you wonder why your recreational leave is so limited.”

“What?”

“I’m saying dumb boys don’t get a lot of outdoors time.”

“Hey!”

A smirk moved across her face before she continued. “The director wants him to remain utterly oblivious, so secrecy is of the utmost importance. He’s not going to be happy if we have to lock him up or kill him for knowing too much.”

Steelbeak did not reach for his beak. He did not feel the slight dents that remained from trying to punch his own mouth open. “And we’re not just locking him up now, why?”

“Because the Ducks are easiest to manage when they think a situation is within their control!” Her voice was raised as decades of thwarted ambitions seeped into her tone.

Steelbeak was unimpressed. He could get just as angry, and he hadn’t needed years to get to that point.

“And what if he does ask what I do here?”

“Why would he ask? You’re hardly about to engage him in some deep conversation, are you?”

He couldn’t quite meet her eyes for some reason. “Well, no, but…”

“Oh, for larceny’s sake. If it does come up and you can’t avoid answering the question, just make something up. You’re an agent, do some lying.”

“... yeah, of course. I can do that.”

***

It doesn’t really sink in until later that night, back in his room, how Fethry answered all his questions without calling him, “Stupid.”

[paintingraves]

#souvenirs

Aziraphale has a YouTube channel. 

It’s a complete mess, with sporadic updates and videos ranging any length from 5 minutes to 2 fucking hours. It’s mostly just him being drunk monologuing about his book collection in front of the camera, and retelling history from his point of view. 

He’ll just be like, “Now, my friends, a common belief is that when Cesar was assassinated, he said tu quoque mi fili. That is wrong. You see I was there, and he said something more along the lines of ‘oh, fuck,’ which makes more sense if you ask me. But I suppose it’s not dignified enough.” Aziraphale hiccups, and his wine glass magically refills itself. “Crowley - you know about Crowley, I told you about Crowley - he wasn’t there for once. I wish he had been. He couldn’t believe his ears when I told him. we hadn’t seen each other in decades at that point, not since we last had oysters in Rome. Did I tell you about the oysters? They were scrumptious. I think it was the first time me and him - that wily old serpent,” he says fondly, “Ever had lunch together. It was the first of many. A truce, if you will.”

His videos have maybe a hundred views all compiled together - and there’s a lot of them. He doesn’t do it for fame. It’s more like a personal diary, except he hasn’t yet realized everything he uploads is for public view.

Crowley doesn’t find out about it until he barges in unannounced in Aziraphale’s bookshop and finds him drunk, deep into two bottles of wine, having an argument with his computer. 

He’s really worried 

He’s even more worried when he realizes Aziraphale is filming himself

And Azirpahale is so very happy ! He’s a happy drunk. He takes Crowley by the arm and makes him wave at the camera. “Look, look ! It’s my friend ! Crowley ! The one I told you about!” 

“Angel what is this” 

“It’s… YouTube?” 

“No I know it’s YouTube, what are you doing on it” 

Aziraphale starts to cry because Crowley is angry 

and now Crowley is panicking 

He completely forgets about the computer, he’s just trying to get his angel to calm down 

“Why are you crying? I’m sorry!” He says, horrified. Aziraphale clings to him as Crowley hugs him. The demon vanishes the wine bottles and glasses. Slowly, Aziraphale calms down. And then he realizes how close he and Crowley are. He’s still intoxicated. He lifts his head, blinks, tries to find Crowley’s eyes and oh, there’s his mouth. His lovely… pink… mouth. 

Crowley makes a very high pitched noise when Aziraphale kisses him sloppily

Then the angel beams 

“I love you!” he says. 

Then promptly falls alseep 

Crowley sighs and glares at the ceiling. “Why me?” 

Then, softer, raising a hand to stroke Aziraphale’s hair. “I love you too, angel. Shame you won’t remember this tomorrow.” 

The video keeps recording. 

The next morning, a hungover Aziraphale finds it. He’s horrified but he… he plays it on a loop, stuck on Crowley’s last words. 

I love you too. I love you too. 

Oh he remembers this alright. 

He uploads the video, persuaded that it’s private, so he is sure not to lose it and can watch it over and over again forever. 

Then he calls Crowley and asks him to dinner. 

And while they’re dining, oblivious to the world, the video slowly but surely goes viral because they’re adorable. 

also because there are some freaky things happening amidst the sappiness of it. The only plant Aziraphale possesses blooms when he confesses, visible in the background of the video. Crowley’s sunglasses get knocked off when they kiss, revealing his serpentine eyes. Aziraphale starts gently glowing at some point. 

The video is titled “Souvenirs” and soon people are watching all of Aziraphale’s rather boring videos, compiling his and Crowley’s story, and neither the demon nor the angel are aware. 

That is until Crowley, alone, opens his social media. He swallows the wrong way and chokes. 

Everywhere, there are gifs of him and Aziraphale. It’s in his youtube recommandations, trending on Twitter, made it to Buzzfeed, what is going on. 

He’s going feral what is this 

His Instagram is overflowing with notifications 

Did I mention Crowley had an Instagram? No? He does 

He has quite a following at that. All he ever does is post pictures of his outfits, his plants, and some Queen quotes, but it works. 

(Obviously. He’s a demon.) 

One might even go as far as to call him an influencer 

He invented the selfie 

He poses for some of his photos, he even bought a ring light for it 

He takes pleasure in it 

Hell he even took out the wings for some of his ‘shoots’, because they make him look badass 

He’s never taken his sunglasses off, not once 

But people recognizes him easily in the video 

Aziraphale is unaware 

oh lo - sat- someone. 

He must protect his angel 

He goes to Aziraphale’s flat 

preps his phone 

“Ah, Crowley! I wasn’t expecting you tod -” 

Takes Aziraphale by the waist and kisses him, snapping a picture in the process 

Before Aziraphale can recover he’s posted it on Instagram with a lame filter and the caption “so long, suckers ! he’s mine. now cut it out with the bullshit, this is private.” 

10 000 likes in like 5 minutes 

Aziraphale is dizzy and so confused 

But he’s happy??? 

Crowley turns off his phone and proceeds to show his angel how much he loves him 

Afterwards he shows Aziraphale how to make sure his videos are NOT public. they delete the last one, but of course it reappears on the Internet very quickly. whatever. 

Crowley keeps publishing pictures of his plants on Insta 

I forgot where I was going with this but 

yes 

[epizkage]

the first chapter of my good omens fic! its a uni au, the main ship is ineffable bureaucracy but there is also background ineffable husbands, hastur/ligur, and maybe future dagon/michael!  i’ll be uploading this to ao3 tomorrow, as well as uploading a page of sketches for each chapter both on here and on my art insta. thank you for reading, im grateful for any feedback at all!!  tagging as #ineffable neighbours on all platforms!! (here, ao3 and instagram!)

“Crowley, what the fuck?” Bee groaned, incredulous, as Crowley handed them another houseplant through the car window. They were sat in the passenger seat, knees near enough at their chest with how far forward the seat had been pushed, their lap and arms already full of plants which they may as well have been juggling in trying to make room for more. 

“I have to bring all of them, Bee, they’ll be lonely if I don’t.” Crowley answered sincerely, handing them another, which Bee shoved rather frustratedly into one of the cupholders by the gear stick. 

"Oh, don't worry about me-" Bee huffed sarcastically, taking the tray of mini cacti that Crowley handed them and sliding it onto the dashboard. "-I'll just be a fucking shelf, shall I? It's not like I wanted to say goodbye to our mothers or anything."

"Language, Bee!" Came their mum's joking voice, though from where Bee couldn't quite tell, their peripheral vision on both sides blocked by leaves and greenery.  

"Yeah, Bee, language." Crowley mimicked petulantly, having the gall to try and hand them one last plant through the window only to be stopped by a string of very colourful curse words. Bee managed, after a lot of growling and swearing and heightening claustrophobia, to transplant the innumerable pots into the vacant driver's seat, swinging the car door open with enough vigour to nearly hit Crowley as they made their escape.

The tiny battered car was stuffed to the brim, back seats folded down to make room for two lots of possessions, Crowley and Bee's lives packed up into boxes and stacked in the world's most audacious game of Tetris, scraping the roof and blocking the back window entirely; sure to make Crowley's already terrible driving even worse. 

"Arsehole." Bee scowled, stepping back from the car to join their parents on the pavement, all watching and doing nothing to help as Crowley attempted to strap a way-too-big suitcase to the roof.

"Don't call your brother an arsehole, dear." Their mama said jovially, nudging them in the side.

"He is a bit of one, though." Replied their mum - the other one - coming up to their other side. Bee smirked at the two of them, and busied themselves with rolling a cigarette. 

"Oi!" Crowley called, turning to throw them all a faux-offended pout, ignoring the suitcase for just long enough for it to start sliding off the roof. At the sight of him frantically trying to stop it from either hitting the ground or smashing one of the car windows, Bee choked on a laugh and dropped the filter they'd been holding between their lips, figuring it was karma for laughing as Mama rushed to Crowley's aid. 

"You could help, you know, dear sibling." Crowley yelled, way too loud for a quiet, late September morning, as he tightened the straps on the makeshift roof rack. The neighbours, inevitably, would talk amongst themselves - middle class businessmen asking "oh, aren't you glad that those bastard kids are finally going back to uni?" over a neat and orderly breakfast, wives responding "I never did understand them anyway, Karen mentioned Satanic witchcraft, but really I think they're just hippies." Maybe they'd even pop round with fake neighbourly intent, presenting the couple with a rehearsed spiel of "my Sophie left for uni again a few weeks ago, you don't appreciate the alone time until they come back!" and a horrid fake laugh when really all they were trying to do was nosey around and determine whether their neighbours were lesbians or just really good friends.

Really good friends, who shared a surname, raised children together, and held a garden party last year to renew their vows.

Bee ignored him and sparked up their cigarette. Both mothers shared a glance and rolled their eyes, and Crowley rounded the car to lean against it. 

"Is that everything?" 

Bee nodded through an exhale of smoke, and suddenly their parents had zoned in on them, Crowley being dragged into their huddle while Bee was made to extinguish their cigarette.

"Oh, we'll miss you, horrible children." Their mum laughed, pulling both Bee and Crowley into a tight hug and kissing them both, Bee on the crown of their head and Crowley on the cheek, before passing them off for Mama to do the same.

"We'll miss you both too." Crowley replied, his smile showing clearly all of the anxiety he was trying to keep hidden.

"Don't worry, kiddo-" Bee slapped him on the back as they spoke, a rare moment of genuine and open kindness flashing between them and making their mothers smile from ear to ear. "-Everyone's nice, you know that."

It was Crowley’s first year while Bee was going into their second, and Crowley was to move in with Bee and their friends that they’d met last year. Crowley had met them all before, too, even considering them friends of his own after spending a lot of time at Bee’s flat, though nothing could help keep the anxiety at bay. 

Truth be told, the poor kid looked like he might cry, and so with a sigh Bee decided to take control.

“Come on, we gotta go, I’ve got all the keys and I don’t want Hastur or Dagon tearing into me for making them wait.” 

Crowley looked understandably dejected, but nodded nonetheless, and with one last long family hug the two bundled into the car.

Bee got in first, bringing all of the plants back into their lap to make room for Crowley, who soon after slid into the driver’s seat, hands balled into fists on his thighs as he took a deep breath.

“It’ll be okay, kid.” Bee tried to be reassuring despite their voice sounding bored and their face being almost entirely blocked by plants, but Crowley smiled at them anyway.

“I know, it’ll just be weird to be so far away.”

Bee nodded with a hum, both of them waving goodbye to their mothers, before they set off for their new house-

-which was fifteen minutes away, in the city. ~

Crowley and Bee had managed to unpack the car and near enough move everything in before the first of their housemates even showed up, perfectly chaotic and exactly at the wrong time, as Crowley battled to fit the giant suitcase through the front door while Bee laid on the sofa and did nothing to help.

Her arrival was made known by three things: the sound of Britney Spears’ ‘Womanizer’ muffled through car windows and getting ominously closer until coming to a head as she pulled up, a crash as the aforementioned car hit the lamp post outside the house, and then a loud, blunt exclamation of “fuck.”

“Ah, Dagon’s here.” 

She ran out of the car, leaving the engine on, door open and music still blasting, and gave Crowley a hard clap on the shoulder as she pushed past him and threw herself into Bee’s lap, only to be promptly deposited onto the floor.

“Aren’t you guys buzzed?” She grinned, red hair messy and falling into her face, partially covered by a black baseball cap that said “women want me, fish fear me” on the front.

“I was until you got here.” Bee fired back playfully, snatching the hat from Dagon’s head and shoving it on their own. It was way too big and the peak fell down over their eyes every time they moved, and they readjusted the size, quite intent on wearing it for the rest of the night, as they got up to help Dagon unpack her car.

Dagon had brought with her far too much of what she didn’t need and far too little of what she did; half of her car being taken up by a giant fish tank (“I’m going back home tomorrow to get them, I hope they don’t miss me too much.”) while the tiny suitcase on her passenger seat apparently held all of her clothes for the year. The music, still Britney Spears, was only turned off once Dagon had unloaded the car completely (as Bee and Crowley had discovered, she had created a playlist of every single Britney Spears song on Spotify), by which point many of the neighbours had already given them some rather distasteful looks from behind their net curtains. 

With the playlist blaring again, now through a speaker upon Dagon’s insistence, the three of them had split up to investigate the house. The outside was irregular and dirty-white, made complete by a wooden door with chipped black paint and a half shiny, half rusted number six nailed to the wall. The inside was no better, old carpets and ragged papering complimenting holes in the plaster and rusty radiator pipes.

None of them had even bothered to look around the place before signing the contracts - an offer of cheap rent and ‘satisfactory’ facilities more than enough to sway them.

Bee had taken to the garden, itching for nicotine, and they extracted a cigarette from behind their ear, scattering loose tobacco through their mess of black hair and making no effort to even acknowledge it, let alone remove it.

The garden was small, narrow and void of greenery completely, except from a pitiful looking tree that looked more like a long twig that had been plunged into a patch of gravel than anything that had ever been remotely alive. The ground was plain concrete, mossy and damp and unappealing in every sense, resembling an alleyway more so than a garden. Bee thought it crunched nicely beneath their thick-soled boots as they walked, and that was enough for them.

They hopped up onto the shoddy brick wall that ran the length of the garden fence, almost barreling straight into the tree-that-once-was, and once they’d found their footing they paused to light their cigarette. 

Crowley would be sure to try and bring the thing back to life, of that they were certain. 

Eyeing the fence, Bee was sure that it would fall down before the year was up, what with the rot and knot-marks and holes between the panels; and they suppressed a laugh at the death-rattle it gave when they kicked it. They spared a glance over into their neighbour’s garden, and then their nosiness overcame them and they draped their arms over the fence entirely, wrinkling their nose a little at how nice next door seemed in comparison. 

It was a wide, open space and the tiles on the ground looked brand new and almost shone under the early afternoon sun. Bee didn’t feel in the least bit bad about dropping cigarette ash all over them. In the middle was a patch of neat green grass, in the far corner a russet-painted shed, and the entire back fence was painted with a sunset-inspired mural.

Inside the house Bee saw a lone girl, busy packing things away into the wall units in the kitchen. Bee found themselves very intrigued, her deep brown skin flawless and shining with a rich gold highlighter that caught the sun every time she moved, and she wore a loose, ruffled white shirt that flowed with her movements and made her look like an angel. 

For someone so seemingly put-together, she’d sure picked a rough neighbourhood to live in.

Bee stopped staring, then, and as they turned to duck down behind the fence to finish their cigarette they met eyes with Crowley, making his way out of the back door to join them.

“Dagon’s setting up her tank," He waved vaguely behind him as he spoke, up on his tiptoes to peer eagerly over the fence. 

"What's next door like?" 

"Nice." Bee replied genuinely with a nod, waiting for Crowley's hum of approval before continuing. "When's your boy moving in?" 

Crowley choked, and Bee snickered when his face flushed almost as red as his hair.

He had started dating a boy named Aziraphale, though Crowley would only ever call him Ezra, Zira, or Angel, over the summer, having met online and hit it off in a fresher's group chat for their university. 

"Weird name." Bee had commented, and then had immediately taken it back upon remembering that their legal name had very nearly been Beelzebub.

The two had met up a few times, and soon become an official item. Bee could still vividly remember the absolute joy on Crowley's face when he'd found out that, arguably through some sort of divine intervention, Zira would be living just next door when term time started.

Who else he was living with, however, Bee and Crowley hadn't the faintest. All Zira had said was that there were four of them, two second years and two first years, and all of them had met through family friends, university societies and extra curricular youth groups. Nerds.

"Uh, h-he-" Crowley cleared his throat, removing his sunglasses as if it'd help him think better, brown eyes so light they almost shone yellow darting this way and that but never meeting Bee's own. "-He should be here tomorrow, or the day after."

Bee smirked at him, quirking an eyebrow. 

"You'll have to introduce us.”

Crowley very quickly brushed it off with an awkward nod.

“What do you think the rest of ‘em will be like?”

Bee finished their cigarette and stubbed out the end on the wall, little ashy embers flying back at them as they flicked the filter in the general direction of the drain by the back door.

‘Get something to put your dock ends in-’ Bee reminded themselves as they followed Crowley back through to the living room. ‘-Asshole. Think of the planet.’

“Insufferable, probably.” Bee shrugged, leaning back against the sofa and crossing one leg over their knee, their foot beginning to twitch and shake out of habit. They decided not to mention the girl they’d seen in the kitchen, knowing full well that Crowley would mislay the information to Dagon, who in turn would mislay it to Hastur, over-exaggerated and not at all true stories of Bee and the mystery girl somehow being an item forming from nothing more than boredom and a need for drama.

“Yeah, probably.” Crowley’s reply was half-hearted, paying no real attention as he instead stared down at his phone.

“Zira likes them, though, so I’m sure they’re nice enough.”

Bee made no effort to reply, but if they had, it would’ve been cut off. First by a crash, followed immediately by the second customary exclamation of “fuck” of the day. 

It was beginning to feel like home already.

[aileysmirnov]

◇◆Ailey Villains Gallery: Scarecrow◇◆

Scarecrow's face claim: Adrien Brody

Secret vs Scarecrow! How did they met?

Ailey (Secret) and Scarecrow met 'thanks' to Batman:

One night in Gotham, Scarecrow infiltrated the Iceberg Lounge with the intention to Kill some of Penguin's Henchmen.

With a more "upgraded" (and letal) version of his fear gas.

Just as a way to send a message to Oswald who had stolen some of his gas and now was selling it for a very high price on the dark market.

To prevent Batman from intervening, Scarecrow convinced Riddler and Dr Pig to create a "distraction" (if murdering almost 11 people between the two and then make an "spectacle" about it, can be called like that) for the Bat.

And unfortunately when the "Caped Crusader" realized it was a trap (thanks to one of Riddler's "funny" riddles) he was already too far from the building.

Too far from stopping Scarecrow.

He analyzed all of his options pretty fast: he couldn't send Damian, he was with him, Dick was in Blüdhaven, He already send Tim after Riddler and Steph after Pig, Cass and Barbara where in another state with the Birds of prey, Duke and Kate where teaming up to solve a crime involving a new rising homicidal cult and Jason…he wasn't in good terms with Jason…again…and he losed his track at least 2 weeks ago.

And so…he reluctantly took the phone and dialed the number of the one person he could think of.

Ailey was doing the usual: shouting angrily and throwing a tantrum towards her employees (like the good little tyrant she is) for a last minute cancellation of 4 of the stellar models for the upcoming Winter collection of SVELLYO. When all of a sudden she received a call from the one and only: Bruce fucking Wayne.

—B! What a perfect timing! Is not bothersome at all!—she remarked the words sarcastically annoyed a tone that sounded like the venomous hissing of a snake.

—Listen Ailey, I don't have time for thi-

She cut him off

—What a coincidence! Neither do I, B's man! Byee~

—Ailey…—He didn't shout at her but his more menacing (than usually) tone, make her feel like he did; it was a voice tone that Bruce normally just used when he was with Joker and when he used it. Oh boy, You just knew the man ain't taking any shit.

—Listen to me. And listen. C A R E F U L L Y. Scarecrow is in the Iceberg Lounge it's 2 minutes away from you by flying. I need you to go after him and prevent whatever he's up to against Cobblepot.—He said a little more ""nicer"" (if it's even possible) this time, but still with a hint of frustration in his voice.

—yeah…well…I also need this little favor, B—Bruce was about to fucking lose it in that moment, there where lives in danger and this CHILD was just thinking of herself!! But before he could lash out at her with a "I'm dissapointed" speech; Damian took the phone.

—He said he'll do it, you have my word. Now…Go! —Robin said without thinking twice

—Thank you, my zelenyy*! I'm on my way! —and with an Angry Bruce Lashing out at every single thing on earth on the background, Ailey hanged up, wrote a quick note to his secretary, asking him to give all of her employees a rise (including him, of course) and sprinted out to SVELLYO's roof top; without a word to the perplexed staff.

Once she stood there.She could feel the cold night breeze hitting her face and without any doubt she jumped abruptly from one of the highest points in the city.

Her eyes opened at the middle of his falling, adrenaline and renewed energy cursing trough her veins, her blonde hair replaced with a glowing rose gold, a metalic blue growing in her gaze and her outfit conveniently transformed on an all black bodysuit with slight hints of gold on the bottom of her sleeves.

His whole body defying gravity, flying through the night sky with the same grace and glory of a swan and leaving a subtle trace of light glowing pink as she passed by.

She arrived at the Iceberg Lounge back entrance at least 5 seconds earlier from what Batman had predicted.

Penguin's henchmen where all gathered in what appeared to be a small cellar on the very back of the casino, they were complaining about an out of the blue"meeting".

Secret (Ailey) assumed it was Scarecrow's way to get them all in the same place and avoid any unnecessary complications.

With extreme caution she stood and watched near the skylight, trying to fade away her own slightly glowing nature with the moonlight.

Her eyes searched quickly inside the room, ans she soon spotted atleast 6 gas tanks oddly put in some of the poorly lighted corners of the cellar.

But no sign of the maniac

Or so she though until the abrupt pain in her neck and the obscure presence behind her sooner than later make her realize; she wasn't alone.

She could feel the infernal pain from the toxin filling his lungs and cutting her breath and her vision becoming a little bit dizzy.

—You should know better than spying on people, dear…It might not end up being what you expected—his voice was deep and unforgiving, a condescending tone and the weight of countless sleepless nights leaked through every word.

She tried to speak but only felt her throat closing.

—Now, now, dear…all will end up soon. —His tall and lanky figure covered by worn out clothes to match his own psychotic aesthetic made him look intimidating. And without any glimpse of empathy he proceeded to toss her body aside with a kick like if she was a filthy dead rat, and continue to watch expectantly to the ignorant henchmen above.

He was waiting, waiting for one of them to foolishly reveal where his beloved toxin was and after a couple of minutes one of them casually mentioned a secret basement where the most important items waited patiently for whoever was able to afford his almost ridiculously expensive price.

Crane smiled wickedly to himself…he had just what he wanted…almost.

He activated the slightly hidden tanks of fear gas and watched in admiration as some of the henchmen faces started to change into a horrified expression.

—Head's up, asshole!—He didn't even had time to process the situation properly, when Secret's hands where at both sides of his head, the tip of her fingers illuminated and emanating Rose gold strings of pure energy attaching themselves to Crane's mind.

And at that exact moment he remembered: the pain, the panic, the fear.

The very first time he tested his toxin, was on himself: he was laying in to that dirty old shack for what felt like an eternity; he screamed and begged and yet the hallucinations didn't leave him, his mind was racing with the most horrible thought it could possibly even consider, everything so real and yet so distant. He felt hopeless.

And the delicate strings clinging tight around his mind. Lord, what a bittersweet nostalgia! He felt the same, the same way as the first time, he could hear the screams, the voices, the endless discontent. But couldn't find anything around him…just…hollow and for some strange reason…that scared the shit out of him.

Ironically it had been years since the last time Crane felt genuine fear.

When Crane woke up, he was already in that horrible place: a worn out cell from Arkham

But strangely he didn't feel any kind of anger or frustration. No…he felt…elated in the best way possible almost like if he had reborn!

And so…he stood there; staring blankly at the small window with an almost devilish smile across his face.

Waiting for the next encounter

◆◇◆◇

Ailey felt so proud of herself, she had successfully managed to knock out Scarecrow, control the gas leak and save Penguin's henchmen! All alone! And even took the liberty to recover all of Crane's toxin samples Penguin had!

She couldn't wait to see Bruce's face, Oh that man owed her BIG TIME!

When Bruce and Damian finally arrived at the Batcave, he was welcomed by her.

She looked like a 10 year-old who approved one of his test and was proudly showing off the paper to his parents.

Wich made Bruce smile…a little (even if he doesn't admit to it)

—See? You can trust me, B!—she said handing him the samples.

—So you send him to Arkham? Hmm…honestly I didn't though you'll made it…but good job…I guess…?—Damian admitted, while taking off his mask.

—Well, I'm glad I'm not THAT disappointing, sir! —Her tone expressing the sarcasm and slight frustration and offence in every word. Which Damian only replayed with a faint little smile.

—…Good Job, Ailey…—Bruce spoke for the first time since they arrived

—…and thank you for your help…—He completed with a slightly more """friendly""" tone (which just means less stiffness in his voice but still maintaining his authoritarian tone)

—yeah…well…don't thank me yet…we had a deal!—She said while playfully floating around him and touching the ears of his Bat-suit; Bruce could only do as much as to touching the bridge of his nose trying to contain his very obvious nuisance.

—…What do want? —He said sighing heavily.

—Nothing much, really! I want You, Damian, Dick and Katy modeling for SVELLYO winter collection catwalk, next week! —

◆◇◆◇

OMG! That was fun! I was going to put a small and cute little drawing of Ailey touching the ears of the Bat-suit but I still haven't finished yet! So yeah…I will edit it once I have it done!

Anyway! I loved writing this, and I will be uploading more content for Ailey, wich now she has her official anti-hero name! And is called

🥁🥁🥁🥁

Secret!

Shout out to @melyaliz / @insideoflit for the name idea! I honestly struggle so much with names 😅

Thanks to @Shiro.GURu (on insta) for helping me with this! Love ya, girl <3

Tagging: @lobodesaturno @snowflake2sstuff @lord-carstairs @weam0theblueblues @morefarthanaway

[mgkconfessions]

Your honest opinion what do you think about this relationship? Tbh I think it’s just very superficial in my eyes and I’m very shocked to see Colson change all of sudden and have his business all out there on social media, its almost as if he wants to show off and be like other celebrities who seek attention 🤔 idk what it is but they won’t last long.

We are definitely on the same page here. I don’t know how to start and end because I have so much to say about this like a whole analysis in my head of everything, but I try to keep it as short and informative as possible. So sorry in advance ^^

First of all social media doesn’t reflect the reality at all. Especially not when it comes to relationships. She can call him baby and comment heart emojis as much as she wants, but I will never believe that their relationship is anywhere close to a deep and strong bond how she (or they) want(s) to portray it. Here are my 3 main reasons why I don’t buy it:

(Disclaimer: Just my opinion, I don’t know them)

1. This relationship involves everything that he hates: Capitalization on a relationship and calling the paparazzi.

Only last year he said in an interview that he never publicized any of his relationships and then went on with “maybe I just should have, because I see everyone publicize relationships and just go [points fingers up like skyrocketing] but it just seems so weird to me... so I don’t know”. Then he reveals he dated this one singer and they were papped at super random unknown places, so he felt like asking if she’s one of those people who call the paparazzi on themselves. He just seemed very irritated and annoyed by it. Again this was only last year! This year he released Hotel Diablo and says on Death in My Pocket “I lose a piece of my soul when the camera flashes”. It’s in his interviews, it’s in his music, heck it’s probably in his DNA, he doesn’t like to publicize his relationships, because he thinks it’s weird to use it as an advantage for your career and I respect him so much for that!

And now to him and Schantelle (Sorry, I don’t want her to find this post when she searches her name on Tumblr). He has never been papped more often in such a short time before in his entire career than with her at the MOST RANDOM PLACES like picking up clothes from a store (never saw him papped in that situation before) and walking towards his car. Paparazzi know which places are popular among celebrities, but you can also call them to “catch” you somewhere. There’s specifically one paparazzo who seems to get all these Insta famous people that no one outside of Instagram cares about, which you can tell by comments under other websites asking who that is and why they are relevant. Schantelle is of course one of them. I obviously don’t know it for sure, but I can imagine her calling the paparazzi and honestly in those pictures she seems a lot happier and relaxed than Kells, who absolutely hates it. Even Slim commented under a picture that the reason why Kells looked so annoyed was allegedly the paparazzi. The problem is that she needs media attention and people talking about her to stay relevant, because let’s be honest, her music alone is not popular and good enough to do it on its own. It’s very generic and I don’t want to go into too much detail because of length, but she has a history of staying relevant by attaching herself on famous men and getting papped. She social climbs like no other ^^!

Also notice how at the moment she isn’t papped by that one paparazzo at all, whilst Kells is on Tour? Maybe it isn’t worth it then, I don’t know, or maybe she knows how to get the attention otherwise, which brings me to my next reason.

2. IDGAF I’d date myself: Trouble in paradise?

There was an incident where he posted on Insta, that he’d date himself and a picture with “take a good thing and fuck it all up in one night” showing a middle finger. Schantelle posted around the same time a screenshot indicating that she cried. Kells doesn’t strike me as a person who likes to subtweet, so I assume they did have at least one argument so far. Looking at her Twitter history, it doesn’t seem that rosy either all the time.

I don’t know if you noticed, but this is kinda their dynamic on social media platforms and I’m aware of how silly the following sounds, but you can watch every dating advice video and everyone will tell you the same. He likes and comments a lot more on her page than she ever did on his, which makes him always look like he’s so much more into her than she’s into him and maybe that’s also why he keeps coming back to her (at least online), because she gives him attention only enough to keep him wanting for more, but not too much, so he won’t get bored of her because she’s always available.

Might explain why the moment he publicly ignores her, because he likes an independent woman who doesn’t always need him and he’s kinda busy dealing with his own stuff, she posts sad tweets/ likes sad tweets/ films her feet/ posts “sexy” pics, Kells comes running back with tongue emoji and likes until he doesn’t publicly pay her attention again and the cycle continues. At this point it’s predictable and this back and forth is getting boring, because it’s the same thing again and again and again. Before anyone wants to attack me that none of her posts have to do anything with Kells, sure they don’t have to, but she’s been long enough in this game that she knows that this is exactly how you send subliminal messages and be shady so that other people will notice it and show interest.

Thank God social media doesn’t reflect the truth tho. Therefore she can call him “king” and post “i love you bb” and comment heart emojis as much as she wants, but this isn’t his thing and I highly doubt he likes it, because...

3. ily bb, my baby machinegunkelly: The failed publication of their relationship

When I look at how he used social media when he was dating someone in the past he always kept it very low-key. Sure he liked photos and might upload a picture too, but it was never a huge love declaration, if it even focused on the girl at all. And now comes Schantelle.

She tried to publicize their relationship first by using a PAPARAZZI picture of them in his car with him showing his middle fingers and smiling. He didn’t react at first, she looked stupid, then he reposted it only to delete it immediately, what made her look even more stupid and then finally decided to repost it for good without adding anything HOURS later. No comment, no emoji, no nothing. Seems like he was very unsure how to react and if he really wanted to post it. I don’t know about you, but if I were famous and in a relationship, I would have a conversation at some point if and how we would make our relationship official to the public. I don’t think they had that one, looks more like she just made that decision for him by posting the picture, because why would he have deleted it if their love was already so strong and real and they BOTH wanted to publicize it anyway? Hate and unhappy fans were to be expected, therefore I don’t think that was a reason. If you want to see his middle fingers as a “fuck you all, we’re dating” then it makes even less sense to delete it because of mean comments.

So why is he so open about her?

I just think it’s hard for him to be different (I don’t care how often he claims to not give a fuck, we all do at some point and he’s a sensitive person) and to stick to his different morals, when everyone around him, sometimes even younger ones in the same business, have no problem to normalize the capitalization on relationships and skyrocket their careers whilst not facing any major consequences for it on the surface. I think because Kells isn’t in a great mental state, he says so himself and his career progresses rather slowly and he doesn’t get the recognition he deserves, which can be frustrating at some point, he was like fuck it and maybe wanted to see how it is when you’re more open about it. Like dipping his toes into the water and she’s the perfect girl for that. I mean she literally got famous because she was seen with Justin Bieber, which is a whole other topic on itself.

In conclusion, I think that their relationship is superficial too, regardless of how many heart emojis she posts and pictures he likes. I agree with you that he changed in this regard and seems like he wants to show this relationship off. However I don’t think he’s standing 100% behind it being so public, because of the picture he reposted, deleted and reposted and he never seemed to publicize relationships (see his behaviour when he dated Josie) in the past before. This change doesn’t mean at all “she’s the one”. I believe it has more to do with him and his general situation, his career and mental health than any temporarily presented woman in his life. And of course they won’t last. I don’t know how long and at some point I won’t care anymore, but celebrity couples rarely stay together. Why would they be any different?

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Ft. Lauderdale- tryst- part 5- a Halene fantasy!

So every time Helene posts a pic like this- it birthes fic- smutty smutty fic!!

 I have zero idea where this was taken- but it looks sunny- sooo- South Florida it is!

"What're you doing?"

The hula hoop dropped to the floor. She knew this was Harry's room. Would be where he set up his gypsy sanctuary for the day, but her hula hoop had wound up in here, lord knew how, and when she had found it, because somebody had seen it and thought it weird too, she'd noticed the light.

Helene figures that always noticing the light was an occupational hazard. It was really bright in here, lovely, and her hoop was here, and she just hadn't had time to practice in ages, tour was either really busy or entirely boring, and it flipped on a dime, she liked to be ready. But, in effect, she had not hooped or filmed it for her insta in forever. It would make a good addition to her story.

His room wasn't set up, and she thought she had heard a rumor that the boss man, big man, was volunteering or doing something with or for March for our Lives. She had the room to her self.

The movement is familiar and Helene finds that so many things are like riding a bike. Muscle memory turns on, and you go with the motion, and all the rust falls off and bam.

She took a few turns, found her rhythm and her sass and decided she needed a song to make it better.  The scan through her phone found her in the Harry section. Wild Thoughts would be perfect, Harry's version, with that riff to turn to off Mitch's guitar, but there was only the video. She couldn't film and listen to it. Maybe just as a warm up.

His voice, it made her warm all over. Her first poetical rabbit trail was that it was a warm bath. But that was way to relaxing of a comparison. Harry's voice did not relax her, though it did raise her temperature. Maybe that was a better comparisons. It was like a chemical reaction- exothermic. Like making caramel, he was sweet to taste.

Hearing his voice, asking her if she wanted to see him naked was like lighter fluid on the flame of her libido. He was incendiary.

It would make for quite the swivel in her hooping video. Too bad she could only listen and not film.

She had just settled for Shawn Mendez, Particular Taste, and cued up her set up, shook off Harry's deep, depth plumbing question, and found her rhythm when his real voice startled her enough to drop her groove.

Her hoop was weighted, so it didn't make a jingle, more of a thud when it hit the ground.

"What're you doing?" When she turned around he was just inside the door and he walked with a wide stride with a hand at the waist of, was that a towel?

Was he wearing a towel?

"What?" Her gaze hadn't made it to his face yet, she was never higher than his shoulder level, looking at him gave her a crick in her neck most times, and now she was starting from the floor and working her way up. Socks, the high white ones he wore when he worked out. And then his pigeon toed legs and his mole on his thigh. It was just below the hem of the towel, definitely a big towel, a thick one. His hand was at the knot, his fingers down over a suspicious bulge, but he often had one of those, he was a shower..

A grower too if the crystal clear memory she tried to dim wouldn't shut up. It hadn't been that long since, they slept together, but long enough. A couple continents at least. Lots of pictures, too many songs.

"Um, I was, well. The light was good and my hoop wound up in here. And I haven't done a video in a while. I'm rusty." She shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't think you would mind."

"I don't." He hit the t like he was singing it, clear with emphasis. "But I've just never seen you do it. It's really cool." He shook himself a little. "Can we look at the photos from the other night? Since i have your here all to myself."

Deadly dimples, damn.

"Yeah, hold on. I have to boot up."  Helene put her bag down and slipped her computer from its sheath, flipped open the lid. Was glad her habit was to upload everything while she was sleeping after a show. So she had something to show him. Helene felt a little shaky, like she'd been caught out, and ever since their....repeated whatever, She vibes off him. She was never sure if she was reading him for real. Like he was turned on by her or if it was just wishful thinking.

Just because smelling him was enough to ruin her panties didn't mean her effect was as strong on him. If it was, he would probably be sleeping with her more than once and occasionally again.

He must know her attentions were available always.

Helene focused on her iBook, and not how close he was standing to her. Harry had no concept of personal space. It drove her crazy, she loved it.

"last night." She looked over her shoulder at his over sized Head. This was a thing she had noticed about celebrities, their heads seemed oversized, literally. Sometimes, in the worst cases, figuratively, thankfully not with her current employer.

She wondered if it somehow looked better in film.

Harry was tapping at his favorite photos, transferring them to another folder, like she had taught him, wordlessly, and she was bent over to grab her cord.

She swore she could feel his eyes on the back of her legs. Gooseflesh rising up to meet the gaze.

When she looked back, her temperature was up, but his eyes were down, focused on her laptop and the photos. Her job. Why she was here. She wanted to shake herself. Those few nights with him had ruined her. It was one thing to want a taste, it was another to crave the flavor.

She sighed and he looked up.

"You alright?" He asked, a gentle smile.

She assumed this was the American question, not the British. "Qui. I just slept funny last night."

"Doesn't help we have vampire schedules on tour. Are you a morning person or night owl?" He had a lovely friendly smile too.

"I guess I'm more of a night owl. Unlike you, I think by the time I'm up and drinking matcha you have written, checked emails, run..." she rolled her eyes at his productivity, but you had to admire his work ethic. "What are you looking for?" He was rifling around.

"The cord, to get the ones I picked to my phone." He gestured at both phone and laptop and she nodded and got it for him. This time she more than felt his eyes.

He touched the back of her leg. Right beneath the hem of her skirt.

Helene looked over her shoulder at him.

He smirked at her, "you had some lint!" He lifted his hands up by his shoulders. The picture of innocence.

Except she knew better.

Damn him.

She gave him the cord and they flicked through the pictures together.

"Harry, can you give me just a little bit of space! I can feel your breath on my neck." It was so distracting. If he was gonna just tease.

"Sorry," his smile was audible, "I was just trying to see the background on that one, it's hard on the little screen. Hey! Did you notice we match!" God he was such a cute kid sometimes. They did coordinate.

"We do!" She smiled over her shoulder.

"Let's take a picture!" He glee-ed.

It turned out good. She'd keep that one for herself.

"That one picture, can I see it on your laptop again?" He asked, over her shoulder again.

"Yeah, let me," and she sat the computer down and opened his folder, checked the timing again. "Here."

This time, he stood right behind her. Put his hands on her hips to look over them. "I don't like that you can see my dirty clothes in that one, but it's a shame, I really like the picture." He started rocking her hips back and forth against him.

"Harry?"

"I really liked watching you hoop. Your hips move...." he rocked her a little wider. "Is it like this?"

Helene was about to swallow her tongue. "Um, no, that's too much, too big a motion." She contracted the circle, moved just like she would to keep the hoop aloft. "Then you just have to keep the rhythm." She could feel him through his towel, it was a towel, she didn't know if he had boxers on under it.

"Well, we know how well you can keep a rhythm." His mouth found the sliver of skin between her hoodie and hair. His hands were at her hips, under her skirt. Fingers between the cotton and her skin.

"Do I have more lint?" She was a little breathless, but could hear her own grin too.

"Haha!" He bit her jawline. "There was no lint." He caught her mouth and licked her bottom lip, and she felt her panties fall from her knees. "I just wanted to see your skin get all excited again." Then he really kissed her and Helene day down her phone and her laptop to get her hand into his hair over her shoulder.

"So, I heard a term the other day." He murmured between kisses, "a spinner." He lifted her hand and danced her to face him, held her to him, got his hands on her ass. Under her skirt. "Ever heard that?"

"Non," Helene leaned up on her toes to kiss him, save his neck, and felt for the knot on his towel. He did have boxers, she started working on getting those down. Filling up her hands with him. He was hard as a rock.

"It's a term for a petite woman, so small you can spin her on your cock. I couldn't help but think of you....." he groaned at the place she was biting on his neck.

"Yeah, me?" She smiled like his nameplace cat. "I am pretty small. Ughh!" His hands were on the low part of her ass cheeks now, fingers extended between her thighs. His long finger quickly slipped up to his second knuckle inside her. A second finger joined it before she had gotten used to the first.

"Can I try it?" Helene pulled back. Course he could try it, she liked all of the things he'd done to her. He rarely asked, once she'd consented, he went for things, took her places. What did he have in mind?

"Will it hurt?" She bit his lip a little.

"I don't think so, maybe me if I bend my dick wrong." They both laughed a little, that was one of those uncomfortable unsexy things that happened during a fuck. Like queefs.

"Sure, I might like it if it hurts just a little."

"Yeah, I like that about you." He leaned into kiss her and she screamed when he missed her mouth and removed his fingers and grabbed her hips quick to flip her upside down. It was disorienting for a second. A rush of blood to the head. She felt his tongue move through her now exposed folds a second later. It brought her back to reality. Though gravity was still suspended. "Put your thighs on my shoulders." Harry groaned, and when she bore some of her own weight, it was better. He kept licking her top to tail. She was moaning and the uncomfortable blood rush feeling disappeared. But not the rush. Helene could hear herself moaning. This was out of body. He sucked her clit in.

"Fuck!"

He shook his head with the folds of her in his mouth, brought them in against his teeth harder, released with a pop. "Helene, Suck my dick."

Oh, his hard length was bobbing in front of her. She just been really distracted, by being upside down, and his mouth full of her pussy. She licked the tip, the pearly liquid that had collected there. She was lucky it hadn't smeared on her forehead in this position. She may have laughed at that, if Harry's moan at Her follwojng his directions wasn't so encouraging.

She got her mouth around him and moved up and down, made her neck work. She braced one hand on his thigh, to steady herself. She was glad he was so strong and had his arms banded around her hips to keep her up.

This was hot, though she always found 69 very distracting. But Harry ate pussy better than any other lover she'd ever had. And before long, she was having to use her free hand to stroke over him, because she needed her mouth free. "Fuck, Harry, I'm gonna come."

It was the fingers that slid inside her at that moment that did it. She clenched down on the filling digits and he sucked harder until she was squirming. There was nowhere for her to go. He had her powerless in this position. She'd fall if she fought too hard to get the over stimulation to stop.

He didn't, stop, but he gentled his mouth, licked over where she was juicy while her thighs shook on his shoulders.

She grabbed his hips when he started walking. "Shit!"

"That worked." He sounded a bit stunned, she wondered if it was her weight or his erection. "Let's see if we can do the other thing I was thinking about. "Brace your arms out, Helene."

She did as he asked, and felt him rather than saw him sit on the edge of the couch. He picked her up then, at the waist and slid her down to his lower stomach. Helen caught the table in front of her when he brought her weight down.

"This is working nicely!" His voice had never been lower. "The view is....." she imagined he could see everything open and wet from her waist down. He moved her hips up and then her sodden place over his aching cock until she took up the rhythm. She could hear the condom wrapper and wondered where it had come from.

She decided she didn't care and only yelped a little when he used a hand to lift her hips up. "Help me."

She held his cock while he rolled down the sheath.

"There!" He groaned, and brought her hips back down, spread his hands out to open her. "Now, show me how you rock when you do that hooping bit again?"

"Did you like that?" It was more than obvious he did, she could feel the evidence, and hear his groan as she slid the first few inches of him into her. She was soaked, but it was never an easy fit, so she slid up to his tip and down again a couple of times to open herself up. The pop of his head and squish were musical accompaniment to the moans he was panting out.

"Yeah," he barely got the word out, and sucked in a breath before he spoke again. "think that's the first time I got hard over you" he rocked into her. "Was looking at your Instagram to see if I liked your eye, discovered I liked your ass. Which looks amazing all spread in front of me right now. Fuck!"

"You'd have better liked my photos!" She tried to sound stern, but mostly sounded turned out. If this looked like it felt.....

"Almost as much as your ass." He gripped her then, and bounced her up and down. His hand covered her from the bottom of her waist to where his thumb reached her crack. "Loved the way this looked, your little waist and flared hips. I love your ass." He grasped it then, almost a slap, except his huge hand wrapped around her flesh. His thumb landed near her seam again. And then drifted down to where his cock went in and out on the rhythm she had established. She was keeping them both suspended, like she did her hula hoop. He caressed where he was stretching her and both holes flexed. When the tip of his now wet thumb went in where she had been empty, the no man's land ended. Her body plunged into battle.

"Oh fuck Harry!" This was gonna make her come. Him bouncing her ass up and down his nearly too big cock while he fingered her ass.

"That's it, a little more Helene. Take a little more." His thumb went in deeper, but she lost her rhythm and had to grab his knees when her arms collapsed on the force of her climax.

Her awareness came back a second later when both his hands were sweeping up her back. She realized she was sobbing a little when she heard his shushing noises.

"Almost there baby." He stood up then, with her still on him and her legs came down on their own, her toes touching the floor. His knees bent and he pressed down at her neck until her forearms reached out to meet the table. "Relax. I got you."

And then he gripped both hips and took over the cadence until she had to hold the table with both hands.

She could hear herself babbling. God he was such a good fuck, and she felt so small and dainty and sexy. And powerful, taking every inch on him.

"Fuck, yes, fucking fucking me." That was in English.

He was increasing in volume too. And speed. She felt the contraction inside her and his nails dug in a little at her shoulder.

Again, she was coming again, at the bite of his nails, and groan of her nail, and pulse of his cock.

They were both breathing heavy a moment later. He sat down with her still in his lap and Helene realized that while her shirt was tucked up over her tits, they both still had their tops on. He brought her skirt down over her naked bottom half while he wilted inside of her.

"Well, if there was any doubt, I'd say you are a spinner."

"Nah," her brow was wet and she'd caught most of her breath, she looked up at him and bit her lip. "I'm just good at hula hooping."

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG144!

- I’m… really fond of the statement’s atmosphere, and Martin’s reading of it: he did emphasise a few words right at the beginning, giving them more heaviness, bloating them and completely installing the crushing dragging feeling of decay/dullness/spleen/boredom and degradation.

(And then: nervous laughter about the fact that OOOOOOOOOOOOOPS, the statement itself might have reminded Martin of some elements of his own personal life, uh. Caring for a sick (unsupportive) parent, getting stuck in a situation with them but worrying anyway (+ Gary Boylan feared that he would become his father and… well, We Know That Martin Looks Like His Dad), until the parent died on them while they were getting involved with Spooks.)

- So. There was a big emphasis, in the statement, about the code itself, and the fact that what lay behind was the actually horrifying things… but there was still a “message” and things actually struck when Gary Boyle understood it.

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “I didn’t return to the pylon for a long time, except to confirm that the numbers weren’t changing between days. I had them though, and the numbers were all that mattered. I didn’t know why. I’m sure there wasn’t a reason, not really, but… I knew it was in there…! Realistically, it would be impossible to decode it without whatever key the cipher might have been using – and honestly, for the longest time, it seemed to be. I did as much reading as I could on cryptography, and codebreaking, and all of it seemed to point me towards one simple conclusion: breaking this code by myself was… simply impossible. But I still tried. I spent weeks in my room, desperately applying every method I had available. Nothing worked. But I didn’t stop. The alternative was looking after my dad, whose recent breathing issues had left him more ratty than ever. So, I worked myself into exhaustion instead, staring at those meaningless strings of numbers until I almost collapsed, and my eyes couldn’t focus on anything. And that was when I realised: it wasn’t the numbers. It wasn’t the code. It’s what was behind the numbers, shifting, and waiting, and–and coming towards me like a tidal wave – and I knew what the message was, the urgent and terrible message. About the destruction that was coming on the heels of mankind; about the cold and cruel warmongers who play their games of code, and conspiracy, hidden behind the endless streams of numbers. And within those numbers are all of our dooms. If you know how to read them. And I read them. I read them all, and saw the doom of everyone who lives, and breathes, and hopes for life and happiness. There are terrible things coming. Things that if we knew of them, would leave us weak, and trembling, with shuddering terror at the knowledge that they are coming for all of us. We all made them, and their course is already plotted. You can see them in the numbers. If you’d only learn how to read them.”

I wonder: did Gary himself power The Extinction (or whatever it is) with his own fears? Because it’s when he understood that a disaster was meant to happen that it… happened. If he had just carried on with his life, would it have happened? Or was everything set into motion because he heard the words and spiralled into dread/doom?

Because… if the code was, in the end, relevant and important… I’m kind of super-glad that MARTIN read this statement; and there is someone who should probably not read it ever. Because, who is canonically good at breaking down codes (probably through insta-translating Beholding abilities)…?

(MAG126) ARCHIVIST: … I remembered Gertrude’s notebook; we found it alongside the plastic explosives, but it rather got lost amongst the business of… [SIGH] saving the world at the cost of two lives… It… it’s borderline incomprehensible, not because of any code or cypher – there’s every chance I could read those; just simply because… most of it is… numbers or fragments of sentences that would no doubt mean something to her, but… well, not to me.

… Like, OOPS. I’m not sure it was a coincidence.

(…………. And if Martin read the numbers himself… will he be okay. Or is he unleashing… something, without being aware of it, too.)

- Aaaand we live in such a fandom that someone had already managed to decode the thing in half a day! The numbers:

593756 3058392846 4749 162830165049 564846474827

Actually formed the message “The World Is Always Ending”. Indeed less… personal than The End, here. (But the message itself is kind of… comforting? I mean, it’s like life overall: you know something is living because it’s heading towards its death. Of course the World/the Earth isn’t supposed to be permanent…? Or is it linked to the consciousness that we’re accelerating its decay, or that it absolutely disappearing would mean making things disappear as concepts, too – nobody, nothing, to remember anything, that anyone ever existed in the first place…?)

(- Amusingly, I did think of Beholding with Gary’s whole… stance:

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “There was nothing to be done, nowhere to go – just watch, and wait, and think about the decay of it all.

And the fact that his main activity was to listen to the numbers. He kind of checked all three points of the Institute’s motto?

And why did he give his statement? It’s not always the case but, pretty often, statement-givers do explain why they wanted to share their stories – because they were seeking help, or pursued, or feared that they were suffering from hallucinations, etc. Here, it was as a… non-personal warning? But he spread the numbers and that doesn’t sound very good…)

- Gary did warn about the Danger of knowing (because it doesn’t help) but. But Beholding’s shtick is apparently also to cannibalise other Fears a bit by Knowing about them:

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “There are terrible things coming. Things that if we knew of them, would leave us weak, and trembling, with shuddering terror at the knowledge that they are coming for all of us. We all made them, and their course is already plotted.”

(MAG032, Jane Prentiss) “There is no right word because for all your Institute and ignorance may laud the power of the word, it cannot even stretch to fully capture what I feel in my bones. What possible recourse could there be for me in your books and files and libraries except more useless ink and dying letters? I see now why The Hive hates you. You can see it and log it and note its every detail but you can never understand it. You rob it of its fear even though your weak words have no right to do so.”

Is that why Peter needed a Beholding-touched person? Because Beholding could understand the new fear and depower it a bit…?

- I did my usual relisten of “Binary”, since we got new information about The Extinction, and I’m still at a loss for that one and not… really feeling that it fits The Extinction? It feels more personal, more… people-oriented than concerning a community/the world? Or was the “message” of that one in the symbols appearing on Tessa’s computer and/or about the danger of Sergei’s fate possibly happening to others…? In Jon’s dreams, she’s seen typing furiously, trying to “fight” against the computer:

(MAG120) ELIAS: The Archivist waits, expecting to awaken, but there is nowhere for him to awaken to; no avenue of escape from these dreams. He turns to see the familiar screen, the familiar woman beneath it. She looks up at him with an expression of recognition and weary dread. She types, and types, and types her fingers a blur, flying across the keyboard, and yet never fast enough to outrun the relentless words that flow like dark water across the screen that stretches off into the sky. “It hurts.” She is shaking her head, defiant in her well-worn terror, and tries with every corner of her will to force back the rolling tide of words. “It hurts.”

Tessa’s reasoning about how a human brain isn’t made to fit in a computer, and that analog and digital operate differently, could fit The Extinction… but not the spooks she experienced herself, I feel? Was that just plain old regular Spiral, or something Web/Beholding, or The End? Or was it truly Extinction/the same larger fear that encompasses it?

- If we take “Binary” into account, there has been an acceleration of the manifestation of the Extinction through time:

* End of 1867: Garland Hillier disappears after a last publication, “Les Héritiers”, the same year Robert Smirke died (MAG134). [* 1983: According to the urban legend, Sergei Ushanka, who was dying, tried to upload his mind into a computer (MAG065).] * Some time before late 2005 (which is when Adelard Dekker heard about her): Bernadette Delcour entered Garland Hillier’s flat and witnessed the world of the Inheritors before managing to get out – Adelard suspects that she might have disappeared too, by January 2006 (MAG134). * In August 2009: Gary Boylan heard the “Numbers” track near a pylon somewhere in the English countryside; his father and neighbour were eradicated (MAG144). * Around 2012: Adelard didn’t think that The Extinction had begun to take Avatars yet (MAG113). [* Before January 7th 2017: Tessa Winters downloaded a program named “ushankasdespair.exe”, which forced her to watch him swallow his computer for 17 hours (MAG065).]

So, indeed giving the feeling that… something is getting closer and closer.

- Something that MAG134 and MAG144 have in common: the fact that the manifestations were linked to a form of communication (Garland’s diary and overall works, the numbers heard by Gary), in specific places (Garland’s flat, the pylon in Gary’s countryside), places that were specifically described as… frozen in time / unmoving compared to the world around them:

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “On the fifth floor of an apartment building on the rue Lagarde, near the Panthéon, some construction workers had uncovered a door, that had at some point in the past been completely plastered over. Removing the covering and breaking through the old wood revealed another apartment, one apparently unnoticed by any of the other residents, or indeed the owners of those sections of the building, each of which had assumed the space was owned by one of the others, and connected to a different part. As far as anyone was able to determine, the apartment had been sitting there, sealed and undisturbed, for almost a hundred and fifty years. It was untouched, pristine, with barely a thin layer of fine dust coating the possessions and belongings that had stayed there for so long. […] The place felt strange, she told me. Like a tiny pocket of another time. A bubble, where the world had never changed. And stepping inside, she almost felt like she would never change either. Even the light that came through the window seemed to be of a different quality, muted and gentle. The street chatter of Paris, which usually reaches all but the most remote of windows, seemed to vanish entirely. There was a sense of peace to it all, shot through with a strand of disquiet – a wrongness, she told me she could not identify, but she could almost smell it. […] Every single shrivelled ashened face was contorted in a scream of agony, every sharp and jutting jaw cracked and twisted in an expression of horror – of understanding not just of their death, but the end of everything they knew. It was clear that they had been this way for years, if not decades. Bernadette says she was sure that nothing had moved in that dead city for a hundred years.”

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “Something kept me rooted there, sleeping in a bedroom that hadn’t changed since I was fifteen, and caring for a man who I’d rather just shut up…! [SIGH] We were both… trapped there, I think. Bound together in a sort of wordless misery. I would look at him, and see a grim sort of destiny for myself: trapped here, until I became him – any future I might have had, sacrificed to his. […] That summer seemed to drag on forever. The boredom and irritation of trying to care for my dad was only heightened by the weather, and we were both feeling it. Just didn’t have anything to do…! I don’t… really want to go into my living situation here, but it’s enough to say I wasn’t working a regular job and, while I could theoretically contact my old mates, they’d all got on with their lives without me. The world had moved on. … I was left behind.”

Places/people that feel like they can’t change or move forwards, while everything else does. (And we’ve had so many talks about people “changing” this season… Mmmmm…)

Note to self that with the beginning of the statement, I did wonder if it wasn’t Something Lonely – we were dealing with isolated places, the statement-giver was spending a lot of time alone and wasn’t… really connected to anybody, there was “the huge metal skeleton of an old disconnected power pylon” in the background – pylon which turned out to be the place where the numbers could be heard… So, mmmm… Why is Peter, avatar of The Lonely, specifically so invested in stopping that newcomer…?

- Outside of the RQ-extended-universe crossover inside-joke about “DOOOM”, I feel like Gary Boylan’s use of the word might be especially relevant because… he specifically differentiated it from “dread”.

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “Do you know that one of the symptoms of a heart attack is literally a sense of impending doom? [INHALE] Well, I wasn’t having a heart attack, but I think I know what they mean…! What settled over me wasn’t dread; there wasn’t enough uncertainty for that. No. It was… doom. I was certain that some sort of disaster was on the horizon. […] And within those numbers are all of our dooms. If you know how to read them.”

… and “dread” was the word that Robert Smirke personally used to refer to the Fears:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I have been blessed with a long life, something few who crossed paths with the Dread Powers can boast, but now… at the end of it, my true fear is that I have wasted it, chasing an impossible dream. […] I have been thinking, of late, about the first origin of the Dread Powers, if… such beings can really be said to have true origins. Are they eternal, or are they created from our own fear, by some grand accident – or, worse: some grand design? I believe the latter to be the case, as you well know, for I have in vain struggled to reconcile their creation with the existence of a Loving God.”

It's possible that Smirke’s vocabulary was… too restrictive, but I do wonder if… in context, it isn’t hinting that The Extinction-or-whatever-it-is isn’t actually a Fifteenth Fear, but something operating too differently from the others…?

- I’ll never get tired of Martin’s… little troubles when introducing statements – it never goes smoothly, he marks small pauses, has troubles reading the numbers, etc., compared to Jon’s… seamless professional voice (… except when some of his emotions are showing: sometimes impatience, sometimes… listen, when he introduced the statement in MAG129? He was still brooding SO MUCH after the disaster of a conversation he had had with Martin shortly before). In the same way, I… love how Martin’s own speculation is so awkward and potentially off the mark afterwards? Reminder that Martin barely remembered the name “Maxwell Rayner” in MAG098, and he sounded SO PROUD in MAG110 when he was able to guess that The Spooky Book Mentioned Had Probably Been A Leitner (“I mean… I think it sounds like a Jurgen Leitner book. About spiders. Hm.” mARTIN that was an easy guess… x””D); and in the same way, his conclusions in MAG138 were… a bit awkward compared to the content of the statement:

(MAG134) MARTIN: Anyway. Smirke was clearly wrong about the powers balancing each other, at least. I mean, i–it’s, [SHORT LAUGHTER] it’s obviously impossible. There’s too much variation in, in how much something is feared by people at any one time. And, and if that’s the case, I… suppose it’s… not impossible that Peter… [LONG PAUSE] might be telling the truth. I don’t know what he’s talking about when he mentions Millbank. The old prison, I guess? Tim said the tunnels under the Institute were all that was left of it, but… Jon said he’d checked them pretty thoroughly. 

(M… Martin, what “other Millbank” do you think it could be, given the discussions/researches in the Archives………………….) To his credit, he was trying to guess why Peter had given him this statement, so he had a certain Way Of Looking At Things, but. Still. Smirke’s statement wasn’t really about the “variations” of how people experience fear(s)…? And in the same way:

(MAG144) MARTIN: Statement ends. [CLEARS THROAT] [INHALE, EXHALE] … Right. Another… statement. Another side to… Peter’s “Extinction”. I think. I… Y– I– [HUFF] I, I couldn’t follow some of his reasoning, but I think it was about… nuclear weapons, or… or maybe doomsday’s weapons…? In keeping with the theme, I suppose.

Martin miiight be paying too much attention to concreteness and things he Already Knows, and failing hard to essentialise and theorise…? Obviously, yes, the symptoms evoke the destruction caused by nuclear weapons, both in MAG134 and MAG144 (destruction, corpses melting/being absolutely blasted), but the Fear itself… is something broader, probably? (So: is he accidentally absolutely spot-on? Or totally off the mark, and the fact that he went with “nuclear weapons” mean it isn’t this, at all?)

- ;; It has been a constant in season 4 when we have Martin’s statements and Jon’s statements: they… would both progress much better if they had access to each other’s statement.

MAG134’s (Smirke’s letter to Jonah) would have helped Jon to define a bit more Jonah’s whole character, after MAG127, and potentially retrace what happened to him – Jon labelled him as already “evil” in the 1830s, but turned out that he had apparently taken a step back, before falling deeper into Beholding shortly before 1867, apparently because he was afraid to die (… does that remind you of something, Jon?). Plus, indication towards the Watcher’s Crown. Meanwhile, Jon… learned that Adelard had helped Gertrude to stop The Flesh’s ritual in 2008, and could have pointed out a few old statements: MAG078 where Adelard tried to trap the Not!Them with the table and, more importantly, MAG113 where Adelard mistook an End avatar for an Extinction thing (… and we’re still not sure What The Heck  “Binary” was, but Jon could have pointed to MAG065… in case Tessa’s experience was related). And Jon could maybe just Know a few things, and help overall.

But they don’t communicate, they’re in their own bubbles, and information isn’t getting shared right now. (Though Martin was planning to communicate his tapes to Jon… MAG138, especially, could be helpful to deal with the Institute on its own…)

- I love Jon’s reading, alright, and I love Martin’s too for different reasons. He tends to put more emphasis in words, bloating some here and there? He gets so nasal sometimes? So casually sassy? Jon often has an edge, but Martin… Martin feels Less Charitable in his delivery and I love it. AND I ESPECIALLY LOVED:

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “Something kept me rooted there, sleeping in a bedroom that hadn’t changed since I was fifteen, and caring for a man who I’d rather just shut up…!”

That. That “Shut up!” was so Beautiful And Martin.

- I’M SO EMOTIONAL OVER THE FACT THAT DAISY AND MARTIN ARE BECOMING KINDA FRIENDS WITH MAG142 AND MAG144… and then kinda nop. But the fact that Daisy was comfortable enough to come back, to share with Jon that she had talked with Martin, and that she wanted to give information about him (/them) to Martin in return… ;w;

(MAG144) [KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.] MARTIN: [SHORT SHAKY INHALE] [SILENCE] [KNOCK–KNOCK–KNOCK] MARTIN: [RUFFLING PAPER] Come in. [DOOR OPENS.] DAISY: Mind if I join you? [SCRIBBLING SOUNDS START.] [DOOR CLOSES] DAISY: They’re back. I thought you might wanna know. [INHALE] Seems like it went smooth – too smooth for Basira, sounds like. Keeps looking at Jon like she can’t believe he made it back. [SILENCE] I, uh… I mentioned our conversation to him; he asked me to check on– MARTIN: Just leave. DAISY: Sorry? MARTIN: [INHALE] Get out. DAISY: Oh. Right. Sorry, I didn’t– MARTIN: It’s not difficult! Just get out! DAISY: Fine. … Fine. Just thought you– MARTIN: No! No, you didn’t! [DOOR OPENS.] We’re not… we’re not friends, Daisy! None of us are! We’re all just trapped together, here, and–and kidding ourselves that we don’t hate it! Christ, there are more important things than, than “feelings”– DAISY: [INCREDULOUS EXHALE] MARTIN: –right now, alright, so just… leave me alone! For good! [SILENCE PUNCTUATED BY AGGRESSIVE SCRIBBLING NOISES] DAISY: … Right. You got it. [DOOR CLOSES]

The things Martin said… were very reminiscent of Tim’s own reasoning (and the overall idea that Tim… did feel trapped, and insisted on it, and was adamant about reminding everyone of that fact):

(MAG079) TIM: There is something in this place, and it’s messing up our heads. It watches us all the time. It stops me quitting. I’m pretty sure it would stop Elias firing Jon even if he decided to actually try running this place for once. MARTIN: You’re sure you don’t just want to stay? TIM: I’m. sure. MARTIN: But, like, deep down– TIM: No. MARTIN: … Oh. […] TIM: I… I’m not just going to leave you down here. MARTIN: You were all about quitting. TIM: Oh, for God’s sake, this isn’t about you. MARTIN: It never is. TIM: Alright, fine. Fine. What do you want? What’s your light at the end of these spooky damn tunnels? And don’t say “everyone happy forever”, because that’s not happening. … Well? MARTIN: I don’t know. I don’t know! I want to find out what’s going on. I want to save Jon. I want everyone to be fine and, you know what? If we were all happy that wouldn’t actually be the end of the world!

(MAG102) ARCHIVIST: Does the rest of the Institute know what’s going on down here? I mean, I never really paid attention, but… MARTIN: N–not really? I think? I mean, Tim’s been going on about it to anyone who listens, but I think they just… think he’s had a bit of a breakdown. ARCHIVIST: Well, I mean… MARTIN: I mean, they can quit.

And it also was a bit reminiscent of Gary Boylan’s own situation in his statement (MAG144: “We were both… trapped there, I think. Bound together in a sort of wordless misery.”). I’m not sure, then, that we should believe everything Martin told Daisy, especially since he pointed out to Peter that he had purposely wanted to drive Daisy away… partially to prevent Peter from wooshing her:

(MAG144) [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION] MARTIN: [LONG SIGH] … Well? PETER: I’m impressed! And grateful. MARTIN: I didn’t do it for you. PETER: Even better. MARTIN: … It’s easier, this way. I’m sure you’d have had no problem sending her away. PETER: I hadn’t really thought about it. And now, thanks to you, I don’t need to. MARTIN: Yeah, well. It seems to be your go-to move for dealing with anyone.

He… did tell Daisy that there were “more important things than feelings right now”, and it’s heart-breaking when taking into account that he AGGRESSIVELY (and so beautifully snappily.) wanted people to be Happy at the end of season 2… but I want to Believe in Martin being good at Manipulating people in the direction he wants. Martin has a history of weaponising his own feelings when it served his purpose: he knows how to use them against others, and it’s precisely how he managed to make Elias do exactly what he needed, in MAG118 – it’s because he had Feelings that it worked. But at the same time, I do think a bit of truth might be sneaking out, even in this case, and that Martin’s own bitterness… might be showing some of his true feelings, too. To put it more simply: I heard the exchange and Martin making Daisy leave as a conscious move from his part, focusing on the goal… but I’m not sure that all of his words were faked and false. And that might be another danger of The Lonely, too? That Martin pushing people away and thinking he is in control… might lead to him falling deeper into The Lonely, because he’s cutting ties and working alone. There is something so dangerous in thinking that you’re friends with people, that you care for them… while you refuse to share anything anymore with them, push them away constantly, only know them from afar and dread more and more to interact with them. And I’m not sure that Martin is taking that into account as much as he should. What is the point of sacrificing himself to protect others if it makes everyone miserable in the process, including him?

- One glimmer of hope is that it had been pointed out, during their last interaction, that Daisy was “observant”:

(MAG142) MARTIN: … Yeah. [LONG INHALE] I suppose. [LONG EXHALE] You’re… you’re pretty observant, you know? DAISY: Detective, remember? MARTIN: Yeah, you did mention.

Daisy showed that she was good at paying attention, reading people and their feelings. So she might be able to correctly interpret what Martin said, and guess that… Peter was around. Martin did talk like a hostage trying to make another bystander leave before they’d get involved (he’d sounded like that with Jon, already, in MAG129).

(But I’m worried that Daisy might feel let down by him at the same time, and take his words at face value despite it all? ;;)

(… Another option: MAG142 ended with the tape recorder being cut off, while Martin and Daisy were still together and talking. So it’s possible that they strategised a bit after that about how to act/behave, and about the fact that Peter can turn invisible, and that Daisy knows a bit more about Martin’s whole situation. I don’t know ;; I’m stupidly hoping that Team Archives could finally manage to… plan together… and achieve things…)

- I’m so glad that Daisy has been around……………… She tried to act as a bridge between Jon and Martin, between the two Main Threads of the season 4, and? It’s really not what you would have expected from her when she first appeared in MAG061, and with her whole attitude in season 3, aaaaah…

(- And OOPS over the fact that Martin, who had decided to be cold and dry since the beginning of their scene (aggressively scribbling and pointedly… not making it sound like he’s available: the message was clearly that he was busy and she was bothering him and unwanted)… snapped and exploded and cut her off when she mentioned Jon and Jon using Daisy to get to him. Aouch. Is it that he’s unallowed anything Jon as far as Peter is concerned? Or because Martin really wants to prevent Peter from focusing on Jon?)

(- Also! Martin was chill with Daisy talking with him in MAG142, but not here in MAG144. Is it because now, he likes Daisy and wants to protect her, while he didn’t care in MAG142 because… he didn’t know much about Daisy’s actual personality outside of The Hunt? Or is it because Martin is beginning to be able to tell when Peter is spying on him, and when he isn’t? He directly addressed Jon through the tape at the end of MAG138, implying that he assumed that he was safe from Peter back then (he tried to lure him out and Peter didn’t manifest… but that wasn’t a guarantee). Here, he didn’t slip anything and was expecting Peter to pop up, from the start. So: can he feel it, now?)

- Peter’s logic is… so frightening:

(MAG144) PETER: I’m impressed! And grateful. MARTIN: I didn’t do it for you. PETER: Even better. MARTIN: … It’s easier, this way. I’m sure you’d have had no problem sending her away. PETER: I hadn’t really thought about it. And now, thanks to you, I don’t need to. […] Oh! Speaking of which: I’ve had a report of a workplace dispute in the library, and I would value your input. I’m trying to get out of the habit of, what did you call it…? “Sending them away”? MARTIN: [SIGH] … Fine.

It’s… really that Martin is trapped in this situation where only he can damage-control Peter, and they both know it, and Peter uses it fully to get Martin close and wrapped around his little finger, too (although Martin still snaps a lot and nags Peter and unleashes his pettiness at him in return). And Martin had already told Jon, during their last exchange:

(MAG129) ARCHIVIST: At least, The Eye hasn’t gone after our own. Lukas has vanished two people! MARTIN: Yeah, and if it wasn’t for me, it would’ve been a lot more. [SILENCE] This isn’t helping anything.

And… Martin was right back then ;; (And Peter probably wooshed these two people just for Martin to know that he could prevent it if he just… complied and stayed around and kept a close eye on Peter and did all his work. Martiiiiiin, you’re so absolutely stuck in an abusive relationship…)

- (not) SMOOTH, PETER, (not) SMOOTH:

(MAG134) PETER: Martin… My patron, hopefully our patron someday, doesn’t give me any sort of special insights. I’m not quite the accomplished voyeur that Elias was. I have to keep tabs on things the old-fashioned way. MARTIN: What, turning invisible and eavesdropping? PETER: If you like. But… I’m only one person, and I can’t keep an eye on everything.

(MAG138) MARTIN: I think he wants me to join The Lonely. ELIAS: Then it sounds like you have a decision to make.

(MAG144) PETER: I’m just not big on confrontation. You understand, I’m sure. MARTIN: We. Are not. The same. PETER: Of course. […] MARTIN: So what’s our next step? PETER: For you, keep researching. I’m sure we haven’t found all the statements in here that deal with The Extinction yet. One of the downsides of not serving The Ceaseless Watcher is that we have to actually look things up. Not to… mention the fact that Gertrude was distressingly good at obfuscation. The more you know about our enemy, the better.

… he slightly stressed that last “we” and it sounds like he absolutely does count Martinas being on the same side as him now and… not much as a Beholding agent? Getting hunches and being directed towards statements is Jon’s thing but the way Peter was dividing Beholding things and how he himself (and Martin alike) has to operate was a bit striking… ;;

(- On that note: I’m curious about how Peter mentions that Gertrude “was distressingly good at obfuscation” – we knew that already, right, but… Adelard’s letter in MAG113 (circa 2012) explicitly stated that Gertrude was “dismissive” of the possibility of a New Threat, and Adelard had chronologically already labelled it as The Extinction to her (MAG134’s letter is from 2009). Yet, Peter is assuming that Gertrude hid the information around the new Fear on purpose? Is it because Peter doesn’t know (yet) about the fact that Gertrude didn’t believe in it (and Gertrude might have accidentally labelled this and that statement with other Fears’ stamps), or did Gertrude… actually get more concerned about it, in her last years, and hide information on purpose…?)

- Re: Peter’s distaste for Confrontation and his implications that Martin is the same… it makes sense as a Lonely thing, but also: it… isn’t Very Martin, in fact? Because Martin held back, but he also did end up confronting people here and there – exploding at Jon in MAG039, nagging him into eating, orchestrating The Intervention, and trying to get him to talk to Tim in season 2, exploding in front of Tim in MAG079, literally confronting Elias in MAG118. But at the same time: it’s true that it Takes A Lot for Martin to finally snap.

But the thing about being non-confrontational is not exclusively Lonely and I’m reminded of these moments in relation to Martin:

(MAG138) MARTIN: … What? [HUFF] That’s it? No, no monologue, no mindgames? You love manipulating people! ELIAS: That makes two of us.

(MAG128, Breekon) “The Spider’s always an easy job – no fuss, no complication, everything planned and prepared. It knows too much to truly be a Stranger, but hides its knowing well enough to endure.”

So mmmmmm, I might be grasping at straws and I still want to hope about Web!Martin but. What Martin is doing can still perfectly be read as absolutely Web-y: not confronting and mostly getting people where and how he wants them, making them believe they are the ones in control of their own actions and decisions, while hiding in plain sight.

- I’m… so sorry for Martin, why is your life SO HARD baby:

(MAG138) MARTIN: Great. Great, great. So, what you’re [NERVOUS LAUGHTER] actually saying is that you’re gonna be… no help whatsoever! ELIAS: … Just like old times~ MARTIN: I don’t know what I expected.

(MAG144) MARTIN: You’re not just going to tell me, maybe? PETER: When have I ever? MARTIN: [LONG-SUFFERING SIGH]

Martin had to deal with BOTH of them, do you even realize how shitty his life is? He got the Worst Of Elias, and he’s been dealing with Peter for months, and They’re Just The Same. (Lonely Eyes rubbing off on each other, I GUESS? :w)

(- On that nsfw note:

(MAG144) MARTIN: And you? PETER: I have my own explorations I need to attend to. […] I’m absolutely delighted with your progress, and I feel you’ve earned some straight answers. MARTIN: But not from you. PETER: Oh, no. That sort of conversation makes me very uncomfortable.

1°) “Straight” (answers) make Peter uncomfortable 2°) Peter has his “own explorations” to take care of

… was that a reference to Elias, Peter.)

- The Dark is (presumably) dealt with so now, we’re getting new Questions in the Speculation Game, namely: who is Peter’s “friend”?

(MAG144) PETER: I have my own explorations I need to attend to. And a, hum… meeting. To arrange. For you…! MARTIN: For me? PETER: I’m absolutely delighted with your progress, and I feel you’ve earned some straight answers. MARTIN: But not from you. PETER: Oh, no. That sort of conversation makes me very uncomfortable. No, I’m owed a favour by a friend of mine. I’ve asked him to stop by, when he’s back in the country. MARTIN: You’re not just going to tell me, maybe? PETER: When have I ever? MARTIN: [LONG-SUFFERING SIGH] PETER: Oh, come now. What would life be without the occasional twist?

It’s a “he”. People we’ve heard about that I’m considering:

* Mikaele Salesa: we got reminded of his existence in MAG141, and he’s been revealed to be Officially Dead… through a third-hand account, who never saw the body, and it was after retrieving an item with an unknown purpose (but a broken camera lens… brought me to mind Beholding or Dark stuff, and something allowing you to conceal instead of revealing?). We know that Peter and Salesa were on good enough terms, back in MAG066, for them to… bet on whether someone would survive getting accidentally stuck in one of Salesa’s items, and he looked a bit relieved that the dude hadn’t died, so Peter opening the crate sounded like he was doing him a favour => could be the one Peter is referring to, or something else, but at least, they know each other, they both are Sailors People, etc., so learning a bit more about how they came to be acquaintances/them working on some projects together would make sense.

* Simon Fairchild: Peter said that his friend would be “back in the country” and we know that Simon Fairchild, who travels a lot, is actually from Hackney (if it’s the same con artist who was active in the 1930s that Jon had worked on, as he mentioned in MAG051). The Lukases and Fairchilds participated together in the Daedalus project, both “families” (Gerry told us that while the Lukases are about bloodlines, Fairchilds are… more of a brand?) are filthy rich, and, overall, Jon jinxed it back in MAG124 when he spat that “I do not think I ever wish to meet him.”

* Adelard Dekker…? I would be very surprised if he had been on friendly terms with Peter, but then, we don’t know much about Adelard (he tended to save people or prevent more victims when he was around… but it was more about neutralising threats than caring much about collateral damages: he did use explosives to stop The Flesh’s ritual). I’m kinda expecting Adelard to either have turned into an Extinction avatar by present time, or have been killed researching it, or have been killed… by Peter, hence Peter knowing so much about his researches but not asking for his help in tracking down his statements. (I had also considered at some point that MMM, what if Adelard and Peter are actually the same person under aliases…? But they’re both Rare Cases of characters who have had official descriptions: Peter is very pale even for a white man, while Adelard is a Black man. So nah.)

* Oliver Banks…? I’m not suggesting him because I love this sneaky little shit and would love to hear him more – er, not only because of it. But overall, Peter was able to explain to Martin why The End had never tried a ritual attempt and wasn’t interested in it, while he wasn’t as certain of The Web’s motivations for doing the same (and not carrying out its ritual)… so that could fit with him being actually pretty well acquainted with an End avatar as an inside source. Not banking (get it? get it?) on it, but. (Also, canonically handsome mlm Oliver never met Tim (as far as we know), which is a shame, but. Martin is still right here. And Oliver knows a bit about Jon’s dreams and overall situation with the Spiders. So could be an interesting encounter.)

* Another Lukas…? Peter said “friend”, though, but I’m pretty sure he would call Martin a “friend” to someone else if asked, and they’re not friends. (… This sentence sounds like SF’s Trexel.)

* I’m trying to “be in Peter’s head” and imagine what it would take for him to use that wording, and: I’m not expecting it at all, because I think he… won’t be relevant ever aside from what we were told in MAG118. But. But if Peter’s “friend” was actually Martin’s dad, this is probably the wording he would use, and it would be awful.

- So we got an update and Basira&Jon made it “home” safely:

(MAG144) DAISY: They’re back. I thought you might wanna know. [INHALE] Seems like it went smooth – too smooth for Basira, sounds like. Keeps looking at Jon like she can’t believe he made it back. [SILENCE] I, uh… I mentioned our conversation to him; he asked me to check on–

We technically don’t know how long it took them through Helen’s corridors, but presumably not much time. (… Martin had apparently felt like he had been stuck with Tim in Michael’s for weeks, although it was actually at most a day or two? He did spit that it had been “weeks” at Elias but we know the dates at the end of season 2 / beginning of season 3, it can’t have been weeks.)

Why is Basira surprised that Jon managed to make it back…? Is it because she thinks he should be dead from the Dark Sun…? (Because… I would expect Basira to be surprised that she herself made it back – and we had confirmation that she wasn’t planning to get rid of Jon against The Dark, since she tried to convince him to not Try To Get Himself Killed and even suggested that leave a potential threat untouched, in MAG143… So why the focus on Jon?) Daisy interacted with him and didn’t mention anything amiss, so I doubt he got blinded, in any case?

In summary: we’ve… been cut-out from Jon’s POV since MAG139/MAG140 and Jon Still Remains A Mystery – what is he thinking, when did he begin to forcefully torture and extort live-statements from innocent people (… if it was indeed him in MAG142 and not the rib he gave to Jared mutating or something)? Martin has been gradually taking more importance, in season 4: he was barely seen at first (MAG124, MAG129), began to have his moments alone/with Peter (MAG126), went back to reading statements (MAG134, MAG138, MAG144) and to having episodes solely dedicated to him interacting with people and wondering about his own researches (MAG138 when he first visited Elias, MAG142 when he received the Unnamed Female Victim’s complain). Martin’s episodes are getting more and more frequent, to the point of… alternating with “Jon”’s episodes since we came back from the hiatus. While Jon’s own thoughts are currently hidden to us, Martin has been more transparent and has received focus of his own. He’s stepping up as a protagonist, right now… and it could be the sign that we’re meant to lose Jon (whether because he would die-die or die-as-Jon) soon…?

(- Last time Martin and Jon interacted was fifteen episodes ago, in MAG129 (holy Mew) and… at this point, I’m doubting more and more that if they do interact ever again, it would go… well. Whether because Peter is in the room and Martin pulls the same thing he did with Daisy (shouting at her until she left, screaming/pretending/maybe being more honest than he thought about his own bitterness), or because Martin takes into account what he’s been told by the woman in MAG142, or… anything. Even if Jon picks up, like the fandom did, on the fact that he’s been led by Elias to experience other Fears and that the Lonely is missing… pointing out to Martin that Martin is possibly meant to be the one inflicting the Lonely on him, and that Peter’s schemes were mostly to keep Martin occupied and push him towards the Lonely to have an effect on Jon… would be devastating for Martin? It’s still a possibility (though I personally do believe that there IS indeed a new threat, whether it’s The Extinction or… something else, that they’ve all been misinterpreting), and it was brought up, whether it’d be true or not, I can’t imagine Martin reacting well to the thought that he’d have only been used and never mattered in the first place. How could Jon and Martin even interact, nowadays? Jon has already told Martin that he missed him. Daisy implied that Jon sent her to check on him. Martin knows that Jon is worried and cares – he knows, and it’s not enough, because there is the new threat and Peter to deal with at the moment. And in the meantime, Jon has apparently fallen deeper into Beholding than we previously thought. How could they even find a common ground after this…? (………………… except by sharing mourning over Tim and Sasha, I guess. I miss Tim.)

Title for MAG145 is out and OOOOH BOY. Obviously, it brings to mind the whole content of MAG139 and Jon’s tirade at the end – AND it screams “Corruption statement” (finally!! baby is maybe finally making it into season 4!!). We have a link between Desolation and Corruption through Diego’s beliefs in “Asag” (who contained both aspects), and the fact that Arthur Nolan had been “demoted” from cult leader to The Hive’s landlord and… we still don’t know the story behind that. But I’m not sure we would dig into Desolation/Agnes-related matters so soon, since Eugene had explained that they had lost their chance for their ritual for a few decades – it’s not an urgent matter for Jon, I doubt he’ll keep investigating right now, after having just confirmed that they aren’t a current threat? So, mmm, things I’m considering:

- Jon digging into Corruption/Desolation history again anyway.

- Jon digging into the Corruption to check if they got their ritual attempt – it’s missing on our list, could have been what the worms were trying to do in the tunnels but we still don’t know… and overall, we don’t know a lot about how Corruption operates past independent avatars (The Hive/Jane Prentiss, and John Amherst, Maggie/Gordie): would a ritual be carried out by a lonesome avatar, or would it need a collaboration between many?

- Another of Gertrude’s tapes, this time about The Corruption and their plans for a ritual? Because perhaps the double meaning of the title could… be about her own thoughts (since we already had a look at Jon’s own in MAG139).

- MELANIE digging into Corruption-related matters to track down (or establish what happened to him, if he’s dead) John Amherst’s moves after MAG036/MAG055’s reports.

As for the second meaning: I doubt it would be about Martin, and I’m not sure if it can be about Jon again so soon after MAG139 (unless… it’s about Something Else, ie Jon, what are your current thoughts about The Watcher’s Crown. Have you never mentioned that you wanted to stop it because you’re afraid of negative repercussions if you say it outright, or because you actually do not not want to prevent it.)… so, the assistants about Jon? Or about Martin, since he chased Daisy away? Or an overall realisation that they thought they were doing their own things, but have probably been played by Elias all through season 4?

[stinkyies]

greek food in hotel rooms

rating: pg-13

word count: 2,131

summary: based on dans insta story

notes: i finished this last night but ao3 was being a bitch and wouldn't let me upload and i had to wait till i got home from school to post 

ao3 link

They both stumble into their hotel room. Both dragging their suitcases behind them with backpacks hanging off their shoulders. Phil holding the door open for Dan, who is carrying a large box with a keyboard inside. They put all of their stuff in a pile, while Dan is still holding the box.

“Dan where are you going to put that?”

Dan looks around their tiny room. The bags are taking up most of the floor space. He looks at the bed. There's a tiny space between the bed and the wall and the box would fit perfectly in it.

“Here is fine.”

He slots the box in. Dan realizes the placing of it is a bit illogical but he's not working with much at the moment.

“Dan, are you really going to leave it there?”

“Yep.”

Phil is about to open his mouth to say something but the knock on the door interrupts him.

“I'll get that.”

Dan walks over to the door and opens it. He doesn't bother looking through the peephole. A few people from the crew are standing outside.

“We were wondering if you would want to grab a few drinks with us?”

“Let me ask Phil what he wants to do real quick.”

Dan walks over to the bed that Phil is now sitting on.

“Do you want to grab drinks with them?”

Dan doesn't really mind if Phil wants to go or not. He's up for going out or staying in. Whatever Phil wants to do he’ll do.

“My head is kinda bothering me.”

That's their “get out of social situations” card. Phil feels kinda bad for making Dan bail on something he might actually want to do. Dan walks back over to the door.

“He's not really feeling that well so I'm gonna stay in and make sure he doesn't like throw up all over the place.Thanks for asking though. Maybe next time?”

“Sure yeah.”

Dan shuts the door but he can still hear what they say when it closes.

“I knew they weren't gonna go.”

“Just didn't wanna go out and get fired for not inviting them.”

Dan can't really make out what they say next as their voices drift away from walking elsewhere.

“You could have gone if you really wanted to.”

“I don't mind.”

Dan flops on the bed next to him. Phil is flipping through the room service menu.

“Whats on the menu?”

“The normal hotel food stuff. What are you in the mood for?”

“Is greek okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it on the menu?”

Phil skims over the pages.

“Not really but I can find a place to deliver.”

Phil takes out his phone and starts looking.

“What did you specifically have in mind?”

“Kebabs and pita bread.”

Phil finds a restaurant and dials the number.

While Phil orders the food Dan walks into the bathroom and turns on the shower. He strips and waits until he sees steam rise up from the curtains and walks in. He adjusts the shower head so he's actually not standing over the water spray. He feels the hot water run over his body and starts to lather himself with soap. Two shows in one day- on the first day of the actual tour has him drained. It's not that the show itself is physically demanding, or the meet and greets that drain his social tolerance fairly quickly. It's the adrenaline that came and now faded way. He feels good though. At least tomorrow they have a free day to catch up with PJ and Sophie, before they go around the world for like 5 months. Phil opening the curtains cuts him off from his train of thought.

“Can I come in?”

“Might as well.”

Phil lets his body relax under the warm spray as Dan takes some soap and starts washing Phil. Dan's hands start at Phil's back, massaging him. Dan's large hands feel amazing on Phil's tired body. Dan's hands start moving lower until he is grabbing his ass. Phil moans when Dan first starts to touch his butt. Dan keeps his grip on Phil's ass tight, he's not even massaging it at this point, he's just holding it. Then Phil turns around.

“Hey.”

Phil says in a calm voice. Dan knows that voice anywhere. The voice that reassures him when Dan is in his bad place. But Dan is fine right now, in this moment at least. He's not so sure why Phil is speaking to him like this currently.

“Hi, baby.”

Dan places a soft kiss on Phils now slightly damp forehead. Phil places his arms over Dan's shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

Phil asks in the same voice. Dan doesn't feel off but maybe Phil is sensing something. Usually, they know each other more than they know themselves, but Dan is fine. He's not denying something- maybe Phil is just concerned?

“M fine Phil.”

Dan looks straight into Phils eyes. Those gorgeous colored eyes that can't see shit. He loves them.

“Honestly I'm good.

“Good.”

Phil smiled at him and started to kiss him. They stand like that for a little while. Just kissing in the warm water and enjoying each other. Phil pulls away and gets down on his knees. Their shower sex only consists of blowjobs but Dans okay with that. He feels content. Feels at the moment. Feels warmth in his chest for the man currently wrapping his lips around him.

They are both changed in their pajamas when there's a knock at the door.

“It's your turn to get it.”

Dan doesn't look up from his phone. He is finalizing their plans with PJ and Sophie. They have been trying to reach each other all day and since he finally was able to catch them, he's not letting down that easy. Oh, and it is his turn though.

Phil grabs his wallet and opens the door. The delivery man is holding a bunch of bags with take out boxes inside.

“How many people are you feeding mate?”

“Just two.”

“Good luck.”

Phil chuckles a bit as he hands the man his cash. The man counts the money as he hands the bags over to Phil.

“You have an extra £15 here.”

“Keep the change.”

The man gives an awkward but appreciative smile. Phil gives one back. He shuts the door and tries not to trip over their bags and spill food all over the room. Phil sets the bags on the bed and Dan starts to open them. Phil takes out some of the plastic utensils out from the bottom of the bags. They throw (or try to) the plastic bags into a pile on the floor.

“Phil wait.”

“What is it?”

“Can you take a picture? For Instagram real quick?”

Phil takes Dan’s phone from the bed and goes into Instagram.

“For your story or an actual post?”

“Story.”

Dan crosses his legs and does the prayer hands. Phil smiles and rolls his eyes at his boyfriend. He snaps the picture and hands it over to Dan. He types in the caption. He really does feel hopeful about this tour. He is super excited about it and he feels thankful that Phil here doing this with him. That's why when he adds in the “ty ly bb” he doesn't think twice about it. He's just caught up in his head. Besides he wants to be more open about his sexuality and relationship to his audience. Is that such a bad thing? Phil opens his own phone to see what Dan wrote.

“Dan you do realize what you just wrote right?”

Phil hands his phone over to Dan. His eyes land on the last comment, in the bottom right-hand corner.

“Fuck.”

The fans are going to react in one of two ways. One is thinking its a cute little nod to Phil (since like everyone knows they are together at this point.) Two is trying to deny it as much as possible and think the “bb” is just directed to either the delivery man or the people at the show.

“Dan you can just delete it.”

“Do you want me to delete it?”

“Only if you want to.”

Dan looks at it again. Its been posted for what one minute? Not even? Dan looks at the number of people who've seen it so far. A couple hundred. Those couple hundred people could have it posted all over every other social media site by now. You know what? Dan doesn't care anymore. He wants to be free and be himself without his audience dragging him down. He keeps the picture up.

“I wanna keep it.”

Dan says as he's taking a piece of pita bread and dipping it into the hummus. Phil opens the container with the vegetables inside.

“Okay.”

Phil gets a fork and starts to dig in. They just eat in silence for a little bit. Too hungry to stop and chat. Then Phil picks up one of the sausages and starts to eat it. Dan starts laughing.

“What?”

“Phil you're practically giving it a blowjob.”

“Dan you're actually a 12-year-old.”

“But if I remember correctly you were doing just that about an hour ago.”

Phil takes the half eaten sausage and puts on a show for Dan- just to tease him. He starts laughing again. Fuck. Phil would do anything to hear Dans laugh. It's beautiful. It's not like that's the whole reason Phil is pretending to deepthroat a piece of meat or anything.

“Is it bad that that's kinda turning me on right now?”

“Dan I think you have a problem, you and your sex addiction.”

“Yea but in this case, you would have one too considering I need you to have sex.”

“Yea but I'm not the one that's constantly bringing sex up.”

“Touche.”

They continue to eat most of their food. They put the uneaten cuisine in one box and clean up. They both lie back down on the bed and Phil cuddles closer to Dan.

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you play me a song on your keyboard?”

“Sure.”

He rolls over to the edge of the bed and takes it out. He plugs it into the wall and turns it on.

“What song did ya have in mind?”

“Unintended by Muse.”

“You're such a fucking sap you know that right?”

“So are you. Besides it relaxes me. Helps calm me down.”

“Whatever you say Mr. We-should-maybe-play-this-at-our-not-so-distant-wedding.”

Phil smiles and shuffles closer. Dan cracks his knuckles and starts to play. His fingers dance on the keys as his feet lightly tap to the beat. He starts to sing softly. The way you would sing to a baby, trying to get it to fall asleep.

“You could be my unintended. Choice to live my life extended. You could be the one I always love. You could be the one who listens to my deepest inquisitions. You could be the one I always love. I’ll be there as soon as I can but i'm busy mending the pieces of the life I had before.”

Phil closes his eyes in contentment as Dan serenades him. He sings the way you would sing to a baby, trying to get it to fall asleep. It's beautiful. He feels so relaxed. Feels so loved. Feels so important. He cuts Dan off by kissing him softly on the lips. It takes Dan by surprise because he was so focused on looking at his hands while playing.

“What was that about?”

Dan asks in a soft voice. The same voice he was just singing in.

“I just love you.”

Dan smiles at him.

“Love you too.”

They are both snuggled under the covers. Phil is laying his head on Dan's chest. He feels so warm. Between the blanket, their shared body heat and Dan's general constantly warm like a space heater-ness, it's almost too warm.

Almost.

Dans starting to drift off when Phil speaks.

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm really proud of you.”

“Of what?”

“Everything.”

There's a pause before speaks again.

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Phil tries (and fails) to bury his head deeper in Dan's chest. He wants to be as close to him as possible. He knows he physically is but this somehow isn't enough. Doesn't feel like enough. When Dan puts his hand and plays with Phil's hair? That's enough. How the fuck does Dan know what Phil needs and when he needs it? Phil will never know. The only thing Phil can do is the same for Dan. To be there when he needs him and cuddle him when he's sad or talk to him when he feels like speaking. Whether it's something important or funny or anything he will be there for Dan.

And that's exactly what he's going to do.

[leighbot]

valentine’s day fluffy drabble - part of my ‘zayn as a beauty vlogger’ ‘verse. featuring gender fluid zayn/veronica and harry the adorable boyfriend. note: this is not intended to portray the only way for a person to be nonbinary or genderfluid- this is simply one interpretation. this drabble is told from veronica’s perspective.

BEFORE ANYONE ASKS: i don’t know, okay? this just... happened today.

It’s almost perfect but there’s something still wrong with the lighting. Since moving to her new flat in Norwalk, Veronica’s never been able to completely figure out the complicated overhead ceiling lights. She’s lucked into getting the perfect levels before but tonight, her luck seems to have run out.

It’s no big deal- there wasn’t really a video planned for tonight so her viewers aren’t going to be as critical as if it were one of her makeup tutorials. A quick update has more room for error.

“Hey, everyone,” she says into the camera, shifting so her shadow doesn’t block her features. Her hair tonight is long and curly like a Disney princess and her makeup is still mostly flawless even after a long evening. She catches sight of a bit of color outside of her lip lines and she wipes it away with another quick look to the viewer to check. “Just wanted to post a quick update.”

“I know it’s usually annoying when people come on YouTube and gush about their S.O.’s around Valentine’s Day- how many posts do we have to see, really?- but I think I’m becoming one of those people.”

Veronica ducks her head for a second, catching herself speaking too quickly to be understood. Her Northern accent is a bit hard for people to follow, especially when she doesn’t enunciate, so she forces a breath and calms down. She casts a glance at the camera again, knowing her lashes are perfectly done up tonight and that it will translate to the camera well enough.

Can’t take the beauty blogger out of the girl.

“You guys have heard me talk about Harry,” she says carefully. “He’s… he’s really, really great. He had this grand idea of a Valentine’s Day date but it kind of went terribly?” she laughs. “I don’t know how he managed to do it, but he failed harder than I’ve ever heard of and it was pretty perfect because of that.”

“So, first off, he told me to be ready at five for our evening but he forgot he had to help a relative with their own VDay surprise until the last second so he calls me at four forty-five to let me know he’s moving it back an hour. He had the most panicked tone, too, like I was going to call it off right then and there. I didn’t mind, of course, because I’m a terrible procrastinator and had only just started getting ready. I got to take it slower and take my time- getting my hair just right, do you guys like it tonight?”

Veronica pauses again, tilting her head so the lights show off the different shades in her hair piece. It’s her most expensive one and her least favorite, if she’s honest, just because of the work associated with it. But she will never deny how pretty it is.

“I like it. Anyway, so we lost our reservation at the restaurant Harry had picked out- he won’t tell me which one it was but I’m sure it was ridiculous and we both would have been uncomfortable anyway. So we ended up going to a Chili’s, instead which- let me tell you a secret: you don’t need a fancy, prissy dinner with waitstaff in tuxes or anything ridiculous like that. Your everyday chain restaurant like Chili’s is going to be perfect- you’re comfortable already in the environment, you already know the food is good and they don’t give those tiny plate things, and it’s got the same Valentine’s Day ambiance and décor. It’s a hundred times better than any fancy place and probably half the price, too.”

Veronica sighs, irritated. “Not that Harry let me pay or even see the check. I tried to swipe my card on the kiosk- I know how much his gigs have been paying him lately- but he wrestled it away from me. Almost knocked our drinks over but he managed to keep his gangly limbs in check long enough.”

“After dinner- I had the Cajun chicken pasta but I skipped the garlic bread because I didn’t want to have bad breath, I knew I’d regret it,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder and shifting on her bed. “After dinner, we got back to his car and he gave me flowers and a box of chocolates he’d forgotten about. The flowers are a little wilted-“ she reaches out to pan the camera and show the slightly sad display on her nightstand behind her- “but they’re still lovely. The chocolate, on the other hand…” she laughs, bringing her hand to her mouth to keep the sound quiet. “Chocolate and black cars in LA don’t really mesh. They were almost completely melted and, I went to try one anyway because Harry had his disappointed puppy dog expression on, but I dropped it because it was so soft and it stained my dress.”

“Harry was so mad- at himself, not me obviously- and promised to have it dry cleaned. But I’m hoping you guys will have some suggestions. If not, I’ll search around on Google and figure out a secret. Not paying to have it cleaned when I can do it myself, right?”

“So my dress is- the stain is huge,” she holds up her hands, demonstrating the apple-sized stain now on the thigh of her dress. “And this is a really sexy dress, too. Puts my chicken legs all on display, gives Harry something to look at, the whole nine yards. But now it has a stain that, quite frankly, looks like poo.”

“He had planned on taking me out for drinks and dancing but I didn’t want to go with my dress looking like that and it wouldn’t make sense to come all the way back home here and change when we were already downtown. So we went driving around for a bit- I tried convincing him to just call it a night and chill together at home, but he was determined to have a night out.”

Veronica grins, waving her hands again. “He’s ridiculous. Finally, I told him to find a shop where I could buy something else to wear. We were right by a mall so we ran in- twenty minutes before close. The shop associates probably hated us but I’m pretty lucky because I found a pair of jeans I already know I like and a cardigan. I just dressed in the changing room and paid from the tags, keeping my slip on and putting the sweater over it. I think it looked pretty cute, if not so dressy. Harry got a few pictures of us in the before outfits and then in mine after. I’ll put those on Insta if he hasn’t already.”

“Make sure you guys are following both of us anyway,” she says, pointing to the corner of the screen. She’ll put a “SHAMELESS SELF-PROMO” dialogue box up later with links to their Instagram accounts. It didn’t used to be so easy to put plugs in like that, but a couple years of practice has made it more normal to do and now there’s almost no hesitation to remind viewers to follow the other social media accounts tying back to the uploaded videos. “I’m always popping up in Harry’s photos and half of the pics on my personal one, here,” she says, pointing to the opposite corner, “are of the two of us also. Forgive my boyfriend’s black and white aesthetic,” she smiles at the camera. “He thinks he’s pretty cool. I haven’t had the heart to tell him the truth.”

“Heeeeeyyyyyyyy,” she hears from behind her.

Veronica turns around, smiling over her shoulder at Harry where he’s stood in the doorway in just a towel, drops of water dripping from his long curls to his chest. She winks at him before turning back.

“Harry’s here,” she says with a sly grin. “He took us to the club after all but ended up spilling a whole tray of shots down his shirt. Came to mine to shower.” She pauses, ignoring the flush she feels on her face. “Think I’m going to go now, actually. Just wanted to pop in for a quick update of my day. Hope you all had a great Valentine’s Day like I did, even if you just treated it like a regular Tuesday. Be safe, be sweet and be strong,” she says, blowing a quick kiss at the camera before pulling a silly face and reaching to turn it off.

The mattress bounces as Harry settles in next to her. “You didn’t really mean what you said about me not being cool, right?” he asks, kissing her shoulder where her tank leaves some skin bare. “I’m pretty cool.”

“You’re the coolest,” Veronica assures him, grinning and turning her head to kiss his pouty mouth.

“Come convince me of that,” Harry murmurs against her lips, one hand slipping down her arm and trying to link their fingers together.

“I gotta edit the video, babe,” she protests, pulling away and laughing when Harry whines. “C’mon.”

“You c’mon,” he returns. “Edit it in the morning.”

“Doesn’t make sense to post a Valentine’s night update the next morning,” she reasons. “It’ll take me ten minutes.”

“It’ll take an hour because you’re a perfectionist and by then I won’t be horny at all.”

“That’s a bit of a falsehood.”

“A bit,” Harry allows. He settles back against the pillows behind her for a moment while she opens her editing apps and sets about cutting any parts she thinks are too awkward. “I’m a little hungry still,” Harry says a few minutes later. “I can go whip up something if you’ve got anything in.”

“Just went to the store yesterday,” she says. Harry shifts off of the bed, tugging on a pair of boxer briefs and discarding his towel in the hamper. “Harry,” she calls before he heads out of the room.

“Yeah?” he asks, turning and walking closer to her.

Veronica tilts her head back for a kiss, smiling softly against Harry’s lips. “Tonight was amazing. I’ve never enjoyed anything more.”

“Tonight was a disaster and now your viewers will all know.”

“It was not. Thank you, honestly. You’re good to me.”

Harry brushes her cheek with his palm, cupping her face and tilting her head back for another kiss, which she gives up easily. “You’re good, period.”

“I might be more Zayn when you come back,” she lets him know. “Feeling middle-ish right now.” She doesn’t always know the words to say but Harry always seems to understand- or, he asks the right questions when he doesn’t. Or says the right things.

“I love you always,” Harry assures, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Six months ago, she wouldn’t have believed someone saying that. Not because she didn’t know she deserved it- of course she knew- but just because it was one of those statements that carried a lot of weight with it and sounded cliché if not said with care. But one thing Harry has always shown- whether it’s to Veronica or Zayn or any of their in-between days- is the utmost amount of care.

“I love you,” she says. “So much that I’m going to get this done in ten minutes- I mean it,” she interjects when Harry looks doubtful, “and then I’m going to come help you in the kitchen.”

“I’m timing it.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “You do that, babe.”

[socialweirdia-blog]

#1 - trouble is online now

capmccall is online now. lacrosstiles is typing.... lacrosstiles aaand, it is uploaded now. another masterpiece of the genius beacon hills boy, the one and only Stiles Stilinski! lacrosstiles have you seen it??? capmccall dude, i'm on it, i just got here. :"D capmccall give me a sec

lacrosstiles so?? SOO??? capmccall you are an idiot xD capmccall i'm dying LoL lacrosstiles i'm not an idiot, i'm just a misunderstood artist, bro. :( lacrosstiles but thanks :'D you are my number one fan. capmccall i think you are your number one fan, tbh. capmccall what r u doing? capmccall  stalking Lydia again? lacrosstiles stalking is such a strong word, bro! i'm not a creep. lacrosstiles but fyi, Lydia updated a new pic on insta. lacrosstiles and she is GORGEOUS!!!! lacrosstiles my future wife <3 capmccall and you're offended when i call you a creep xD capmccall and we lost Stiles...

allisilver is online now capmccall Hey, Allison! :) allisilver Hey :) capmccall How are you doing? I didn't see you in class. allisilver I didn't think anyone will notice it :) but I'm a little sick so I stayed home. capmccall That's not good :( So... I guess you won't be coming to the game tomorrow... allisilver I don't know. If I'll get better I'll definitely will. And I also promised Lydia to go with her, and a promise to her is some kind of sacred swear, so I'm lack of any other options. :D capmccall :D capmccall Well, yes... Lydia is kind of a control freak. But you seem to handle it very well ;) allisilver Well, I'm trying my best. ^^ allisilver I think I'm going to bed now. capmccall is typing... allisilver Thanks for writing me, it was really nice of you. Bye, Scott! capmccall is typing... allisilver went offline. capmccall I hope I'll see you tomorrow, tough. It'd be really good :$ capmccall sent a screenshot. capmccall god, i shouldn't have sent that... i shouldn't have said that... STILES! lacrosstiles oh, you're such a cutie <3 awww! lacrosstiles it SO ROMANTIC!!! capmccall how will I look into her eyes after that??? lacrosstiles chill scott! it's not even that bad. i'm through far worse things. capmccall really? lacrosstiles ... urgh! as if you haven't see my failures before! and, as I've said, it's not bad at all! lacrosstiles and, it's obvious she likes you too. capmccall you really think that?? :O lacrosstiles i'm positive about it. JUST MAKE A F***INK MOVE FINALLY, MCCALL!!! capmccall you know what? you're right. i'm gonna ask her out. lacrosstiles daaats mahhh booooi!!!!! capmccall shut up, and go to bed. big day tomorrow. lacrosstiles okie-dokie Romeo ;) capmccall went offline. lacrosstiles went offline. - × - × - × - allisilver is online now. allisilver sent a screenshot. allisilver is typing... allisilver OMG! Isn't he cute? He's so sweet, Lydia. Do you think he likes me? Or maybe he's just this nice with anyone... allisilver But then why would he write something like that? HE HOPES TO SEE ME! God, this is so sweet and exciting! lydiamartin is online now. lydiamartin It only means one thing. lydiamartin We're going shopping. You need a cute dress ;) lydiamartin I'll be there in 20 minutes. Be ready! allisilver is typing... lydiamartin went offline. allisilver I have enough clothes already, Lyds! allisilver Whatver I guess... Scott walked up and down in front of the bench, never taking his eyes off the people who came to see the game. He was tensed. Not only because the game was important, but because of Allison too. Scott made a promise to himself, and to Stiles too, that if she will be there he'll ask her out. And as scary as it was, Scott really wanted to ask the girl out. "Do you really think she'll come?" Scott asked again, and all he got as an answer was an exaggerated eyeroll from Stiles. "Of course she will." he said sounding a little frustrated. There was pressure on Stiles right now, and even though he cared about his best friend's happiness dearly, he had other things in his mind that enjoyed priority. This was his first time to play in the starting lineup. He played in games before, but he was a substitute so far. He got in the starting team in the last moment, and he didn't have time to tell this to his father. He figured it'll be such a huge surprise for him, and he'll make his dad proud. If he makes to the game though. He kept typing another messages to him, asking where he was. "How do you know?" Scott asked still restless. Stiles opened his mouth to say something witty and sarcastic as usual, but that was when his phone made a little noise, and a notification appeared on the screen of his phone. [ lydiamartin posted a picture on Instagram ] "Really, dude?" Scott asked as he watched Stiles opening the application. "Really, dude?" Stiles mocked as he held up his phone and showed it in Scott's face. "You're not the sharpest, right? If Allison comes, she comes with Lydia, bro." And indeed, not only Lydia was on the selfie, but Allison was also there smiling shyly, and it made Scott grinn stupidly immediately. "Now that's kind of creepy." Stiles teased. "Don't drool on my phone, bro." "They're already here then. Where do you think they sit?" he ased looking up again. Stiles examined the picture for a while, looking for some kind of lead. Then he looked up and soon spotted the girl, and pointed at their direction. "Look, they are there!" he said to Scott, who seemed liked a deer caught in a headlight, especially when Stiles started to wave at them like an idiot. "Lydia! Allison we are here!" he yelled from the top of his lungs, still waving. Until Scott caught his arm and tried to pull him away. "What the hell are you doing Stiles?" he asked, clearly a bit upset about Stiles' little action. "I just made sure everyone sees everyone." Stiles replied with a pout rubbing his arm. "And couldn't you find a more discreet way to greet them?" Scott didn't sound any friendlier. "Oh, and the losers spotted us." Lydia said with stoical expression on her face. She made a face, and rolled her eyes as she sighed. She held up her hand just a tiny bit, and with a clearly forced meant-to-be-sarcastic smile on her face, waved them back. Allison on the other hand found Stiles' wholehearted enthusiasm really entertaining and cute. She chukled and waved them back mouthing a 'hello'. "Good, now everyone is watching us." Lydia huffed as she looked around. "But I thought you liked attention." Allison reminded her with a little frown, bust she was still smiling. "That's true." Lydia agreed. "Maybe you should thank Stiles." Allison tried. She honestly didn't understood why Lydia kept him pushing away. Although Allison was the new kid in school, and she didn't know anyone that well, Stiles seemed like a great guy. Maybe he was a little hyper, but he was honestly caring and funny, and he was following Lydia around like a puppy, which Allison found really cute. "Well, I greeted him, I think that's a prize already." Lydia said disdainfully. Allison frowned, clearly outraged. "Lydia!" she scolded the strawberry blonde. "He's a nice kid and he would do anything to just be your friend, or talk to you once in a while. You shouldn't treat him like that!" "Well, I have a boyfriend. I cannot give him false hope." Lydia defended herself, with an innocent expression on her face. "Maybe you could just talk to him first. You know, be friends with him." Allison said softly. "Please... Just try it once." "I cannot promise anything." Lydia replied a little dramatically, but Allison kept staring at her, so she sighed, and finally said "Alright, I'll be friendlier with him, and reply his messages once or twice. Promise!" she sounded a little frustrated. "Thank you." Allsion smiled thriumphantly. "But I still think he's creepy." the other stated.

lacrosstiles Hey Lydia! :) So how was the game? lacrosstiles I am finally playing the starting lineup, and couch said it's final so... lacrosstiles is typing... lydiamartin The game was good. Jackson played really good. lydiamarting ...and you weren't as awful as I thought you'll be. lacrosstiles stopped typing. lacrosstiles is typing... lacrosstiles Oh, you actually replied! And thanks, that's very kind of you. lacrosstiles You looked beatiful tonight, by the way. :) lacrosstiles But,you always look amazing, so it's not a real surprise. lydiamartin Thanks. lacrosstiles You know, maybe we could talk more. lacrosstiles I know you're busy with school an everything, but maybe just here, you know... lydiamartin I don't want to get your hopes up Stilinski. lydiamartin But now that you made it to the field, maybe things will change... lydiamartin Just a little bit!!! lacrosstiles You made this the best day of my life! lydiamartin went offline.

lacrosstiles hahaha, guess who's not a loser anymore?? lacrosstiles Lydia actually replied to my messages! we talked! and she said things might change between us from now on. capmccall Stiles, she might not meant what you meant by this... you know that right? lacrosstiles Scott, don't ruin the perfect moment! capmccall i'm just trying to save you from getting your heart broken. lacrosstiles now she'll reply, maybe now i can show her i'm the one for her! i just got a chance!!! lacrosstiles everything is going according to the plan. lacrosstiles you're so quiet... what happened with Allison? capmccall i asked her out on a date. capmccall she said YES!!!!! lacrosstiles wow!!! congrats bro!!!

- × - × - × - lacrosstiles is online now. [You have 10 unread message(s)] capmccall are you doing this? capmccall please tell me, you have nothing to do with this! capmccall get it off until someone sees it! you'll get in trouble! lydiamartin You took creepiness to a whole new level, Stilinski. lydiamartin Maybe you should see a doctor or something... jwhittem STILINKSKI, YOU'RE DEAD!!! allisilver Stiles, is this really you? Is that a kind of fanpage? allisilver So far I was supporting you, and I hoped you and Lydia be a thing but... this isn't cute anymore. jwhittem i told you to stay away from lydia!!!! jwhittem GET THAT PAGE OFF!!!

[gardencityvegans]

What’s inside my makeup bag (cruelty-free)

https://ohsheglows.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/crueltyfreemakeup-683x1024.jpg

I recently did a poll on my Insta Stories to see if you would be interested in a “what’s inside my makeup bag” post, and 95% of you said “heck yes!!!”, so here it is! Putting this post together has also been a good way of filling the lack of recipe creation lately. I’m currently on an elimination diet to test for allergies (the worst!!) and basically can’t eat anything fun, so there hasn’t been much testing going on over here. It isn’t forever though! I keep telling myself that I will be a normal human being again someday, hah. But I’m soooo grateful that I’m already seeing improvements in my allergic reactions since cutting out the ingredients that my test found I’m sensitive to. I’ll keep you guys posted if you’re interested.

Read on for the deets on my current go-to makeup products. If you haven’t checked it out yet, be sure to read my Favourite Skin Care Products post too.

Lips:

I’m going to kick this off with my favourite category—lips!

HURRAW! Tinted Lip Balm

Shade: Black Cherry

Cruelty-free, vegan

This tinted balm is perfect for kicking around the house! I love the subtle hint of colour this black cherry hue adds.

  Tarteist Glossy Lip Paint

Shade: WCW

Cruelty-free, vegan (Note: Tarte is now owned by a parent company, KOSÉ, which is not cruelty-free.) :(

One of my fave lip gloss colours of all time. *heart eyes for berry tones* Biggest gripe? The tube is messy and lip gloss always explodes out the sides when I close it.

  Couleur Caramel Lip Gloss

Shade: 805 Raspberry Red

Cruelty-free, vegan

This is a close runner-up for my favourite gloss shade. I actually like this one’s ingredients and packaging better than Tarte’s (no explosions!).

  Kopari Coconut Lip Glossy

Cruelty-free, vegan

Ohhhhh yeah. You know I’m obsessed with this gloss. I talked about it in my Favourite Skin Care Products post too. I think of it as a 2-in-1 product because it’s a good lip moisturizer when you’re just lounging around the house (a little bit goes a long way), and it works as a fantastic “top coat” on top of lip colour to add a glossy sheen.

Foundation + concealer:

Physicians Formula Spotlight Illuminating Primer

Shade: Glow

Cruelty-free

This is a primer, but I use it on top of foundation as a highlighter on my cheekbones, temple area, and bridge of nose. I love how refreshed it makes my skin look even when I haven’t slept much. I tried it as a primer and wasn’t overly wowed, so I prefer to use it on top.

  Physicians Formula The Healthy Foundation with SPF 20

Shades: LN4 and MN4 (I mix the two shades in the summer)

Cruelty-free, vegan

Oh BOY have I tried out a lot of vegan foundations. So, so many misses. This one was good enough to keep using, so that’s progress! My biggest complaint is the packaging (it’s awful, quite frankly, because it’s hard to get the product out and I’m not a fan of the applicator stick). Their shade selection is also quite limited. I have to mix two shades in the summer to get my perfect match! I also wish the ingredients were more natural, so I guess you could say I’m still on the hunt for my holy grail vegan foundation! This one will definitely do in the meantime.

  Physicians Formula Concealer Twins Cream Concealers

Shade: Yellow/Light

Cruelty-free

I don’t use the yellow shade as I find it’s too noticeable on my skin tone, but I do use the light shade for around my eyes. I’m not sure if I’ll repurchase this concealer as it’s super light and doesn’t cover that much. I also wish they had more shades!

Blush + brush:

Benecos Natural Powder Blush

Shade: Sassy Salmon

Cruelty-free

I don’t normally go for such a bold blush shade, but I fell in love with this one! It really pops off my cheeks and a little bit goes a long way. It’s my new go-to.

  Tarte Amazonian Clay 12-Hour Blush

Shade: Paaarty

Cruelty-free

This blush was sent to me as a free sample from Sephora a year ago, and I used it until every last bit was gone! I’m not sure if I’ll repurchase because I’m loving the Benecos so much.

  Tarte Bronze & Glow Double-Ended Contour Brush

I love this double-ended brush. I use the small end for blush and the large end for translucent powder.

  You might be wondering…Ange, where is the bronzer? The contour powder?! Lol. I don’t use them because anytime I have tried to apply them I turn out looking like I have dirt on my face. So I just kind of gave up! But this tempting 50% off sale at Sephora is making me want to try the Tartiest PRO Glow Highlighter & Contour Palette!

Eyebrows:

My brows have always been light and pretty much nonexistent (thank you to my dad for those genes!), so if I want to feel put together, I will ALWAYS do my brows. I first use the Benecos pencil to fill in patchy areas, and then I use the Tarte mousse with the bamboo angle brush (which is included!!) to bring it all together. Really love this combo for my brows! So easy, long-lasting, and doesn’t smudge.

Benecos Natural Beauty Eyebrow-Designer

Shade: Blonde

Cruelty-free, vegan

  Tarte Amazonian Clay Waterproof Brow Mousse

Shade: Ash Blonde

Cruelty-free, vegan

Eyeshadow + eyeliner:

Physicians Formula Shimmer Strips Custom Eye Enhancing Eyeliner Trio

Shade: Warm Nude

Cruelty-free

I don’t use eyeliner everyday, but I always use it when I’m going out somewhere special, especially in the evening. I love this trio because it comes with black, brown, and bronze shades, which are the ones I normally gravitate toward.

  Physicians Formula Shimmer Strips All-In-1 Custom Nude Palette For Face & Eyes

Shade: Natural Nude

Cruelty-free

I love this all-in-1 palette because you can use it as a cheek bronzer, over your eyelids, or anywhere you want a pop of shimmer on your face!

Mascara + eyelash curler:

Pacifica Beauty Stellar Gaze Length & Strength Mascara

Shade: Supernova (black)

Cruelty-free, vegan

I’ve tried out a lot of vegan mascaras and this is my favourite “everyday” mascara that I’ve been using for a few years. It’s light and perfect for daytime, but you can layer it for a slightly more dramatic look too.

  My eyelash curler is by Sephora!

Powder + concealer:

Physicians Formula Mineral Wear Talc-free Mineral Face Powder

Shade: Translucent Light

Cruelty-free

I have to say, this isn’t my favourite setting powder by any means. In fact, I find it goes on too powdery and I wish it were more dewy, so I use a very light hand when applying it. In the past I would use powder all over my face thinking that I had to get rid of any and all shine, but lately I only use a bit on my nose and a tiny bit on my forehead. I find using less powder really lets my natural (and makeup-accentuated!) glow shine through.

  Physicians Formula Gentle Cover Concealer Stick, Light

Shade: Light

Cruelty-free

I use this occasionally if I need to cover a pimple. I think the shade is a bit too light for my skin tone though so I probably won’t repurchase.

PS: My black and gold makeup bag is from Shoppers Drug Mart!

Do you have any fave makeup products to share? Be sure to let us know in the comments below!

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