#i hope this drowns in all the louis posts so i can just send this into the void 😂

[onlythebravest]

-

#tw sick parent figure + tw sick parent when i was younger (sick-sick) #seriously don't read this it's just me rambling #i just write it here bc i don't want to bother people by saying the same thing over and over and over #bc it's nothing new to be said. i just need to get it out yet another time #i hope this drowns in all the louis posts so i can just send this into the void 😂 #i've been home for less than 24 hours and i already don't want to be here. it already sucks #i guess in a way it's good bc now i can help but it really sucks and idk how to handle everything #and on top of that my therapist continues to be sick so i don't even have someone to talk to about all of this and it just sits in my head #he is already back at the hospital which makes me just remember all the times my mom went in and out of the hospital when i was younger #well good thing here is that they have something that they now can treat even if they don't know it that's actual cause of not #but doesn't help with all my thoughts about how bad shit is and how it reminds me of my mom and how i can't handle any of this #and am instead rambling in some tags in a tumblr post #i wish i could just shut down all the emotions until he's all better and we don't have to worry anymore and everything is fine again #bc this sucks #i don't want to do this anymore #and i'm sure it's barely begun #bc why would it be easily treatable? that would be a miracle and i don't believe in miracles #life sucks and i really wish it didn't #if you’re down here then that’s impressive bc I wouldn’t be able to read this since it’s just a block of text without any real sentences 😂 #and yeah this is just me screaming into the void #don't worry about it i'll be fine

[allwaswell16]

Hi! Can you recommend some Sad Louis fics?? The most recent ones you have please?? Thank you babe!!

Hi, anon! So I don't have a ton that I've read recently, but I'll list the ones I have and add on a few recent ones that caught my eye to read. Also, if you want a longer rec, let me know and I can add your request to my pinned post!

- SAD LOUIS FICS -

[Read Recently]

what's left of my halo's black by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

As Harry sucks lovebites into Louis’ neck, Louis hopes that one day those marks will cover the way he can still feel Alex’s handprints burned into his flesh.

As Harry’s nails drag scratches along Louis’ back, Louis hopes that one day the scabs on his heart will heal and drop away just like the scabs on his skin.

As Harry fucks him down into the mattress, the bed shaking with every thrust, Louis hopes that one day his mouth will forget the shape of Alex’s name, won’t trace it over and over as the heat builds inside him, won’t want to scream it when he comes. Maybe one day he’ll open his eyes, as he slowly floats down from his post-orgasm haze, and won’t expect to see Alex’s face smiling back at him.

But today is not that day.

A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for. But Harry has some secrets of his own, and they send Louis' world spinning off its axis all over again.

Based on the song "Holding On To Heartache" by Louis Tomlinson

My Other Half Was You by @lululawrence

Louis turned the corner to head to Niall and Lewis’ music shop, and slammed right into someone.

“Shit,” Louis gasped, gripping the person’s shoulders in an attempt to remain standing. “God, I’m so sorry!”

“No, I’m sorry,” the man said. “Uh, you steady?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry again.” Louis blinked a few times and then took a step back. It was only then that he finally glanced up to the man’s eyes. They were a clear, bright green, and curly brown hair fell onto his forehead.

“I should probably…” The man trailed off, motioning towards the antique shop behind Louis.

“Right, sorry,” Louis apologized again, stepping aside.

“It’s alright. Have a good day.”

“You too,” Louis replied as the man disappeared around the corner.

By the age of 30, Louis' entire life trajectory had changed from what he'd thought it would be. He moved back to the town he grew up in and did his best to pull himself and his life back together again.

Four years, seven months, and sixteen days after the day that changed everything, Louis turns a corner and literally runs into the man who just might change it all again.

[ On My To Read List ]

Wish It Could Be The Same As It Was by The_Halcyonic_Lachesist / @chai-hat-tea

After a chance encounter with Harry, Louis has to learn to go back to life as it was. For a while at least.

Not A Solo Song - A Series by LilyBlue28

The first night of Faith in the Future World Tour is a smashing success, but emotions run high when he's left all alone. The heaviness of getting everything he's ever wanted is hard to overcome. But when it all gets to be too much, the smallest, most unexpected reminder of strength finds him just when he needs it the most.

READ LIKE A HEADLINE by The_Halcyonic_Lachesist / @chai-hat-tea

Louis Tomlinson, a singer-turned-actor is the source of tabloid gossip and his latest project is jeopardised when the media interferes again. Tired of life handing him the short end of the stick at every turn, he finds himself at a bar drowning in his sorrows. A kind stranger tries to cheer him up, but Louis soon realises that the stranger does so much more than that.

Inspired by 'Headlines' from the album 'Faith in the Future' by 'Louis Tomlinson'.

#ask #anon #ficrec #sad louis

[blouisparadise]

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of May. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Louis Punishments | Mature | 1759 words

Just a bunch of punishments Harry has given to Louis.

2) Hoping To Discover A Certain Kind Of Lover  | Explicit | 2353 words

He knew the basic idea of what was supposed to happen. It was the entire point of the film Zayn was working on. To match up unmated alpha and omega strangers and to film them as they kissed for the first time. The two of them shuffled awkwardly back and forth, unsure of what to do.

Enough was enough. “I’m gonna just go for it, yeah?” Harry suggested, and Louis nodded quickly, already leaning closer to him.

Everything was hesitant at first. Tender lips met, and all of it was soft and new, neither of them wanting to overstep. A little zing of anticipation and something unfamiliar shot down Harry’s spine as he swallowed the tiny sound of surprise Louis made. Neither alpha nor omega were pushing, but that was the point of all of this, wasn’t it? To see what happened when people let go and let themselves be? Harry figured he would try. For the sake of the experiment, of course.

Gently, so, so gently, Harry slid his hand up the side of Louis’s throat, cupping his jaw to hold him as close as he could. Their lips finally, finally, finally parted, and Harry could taste the hint of tea and honey lingering on Louis’s tongue. Suddenly and all at once, he couldn’t get enough.

3) Irresistible | Mature | 2380 words

Louis goes into his first heat at school and no one is able to resist him. Harry - who's been in love with him since forever - fucks and bonds him in the toilets.

4) Signed, No Name | Mature | 4647 words

Harry doesn’t know Blue, he just knows that he leaves random notes in the corners of the books he checks out, and he’s head over heels for him.

5) It Could've Been Worse | Not Rated | 4949 words

The one where a pandemic happens, harry is obssessed and louis hates apps made for 15 years old.

6) Take Me To The Stars | Explicit | 5840 words

Staring at his darling daughter, in the middle of the pasta aisle, Louis found himself on the edge of a neurotic breakdown.

"It’s your birthday tomorrow! And your papa better not do anything to muck it up! Because your dada worked very hard to organise it! And all of your aunties and grannies and granddads and friends will be there!” Louis continued in a sweet sing-song voice that seemed to get increasingly frantic as he continued. “And if your papa is in rut, then what? What’ll we do, honey girl? Your dada will be too busy! And your papa will be too horn-”

“Louis,” Harry interrupted, touching Louis’ arm. “I’ll be okay. It’s probably not even my rut. I can appreciate you… all of you… even when I’m not in rut.”

Louis looked at him skeptically, imagining the shitshow that would be Harry in rut, surrounded by family and friends, at their child’s first birthday party. “I hope you’re right, H.”

7) Kiss Like Fire | Explicit | 9093 words

Harry watches as his uncle's new omega walks around the backyard, serving canapés and drinks to all of the family members gathered. Harry is surrounded by his cousins, all sat together, too young for the adults but too old for the kids and teens. He lifts his beer to his lips and takes a sip when the omega crouches down by one of Harry's younger cousins and hands her a small cracker, sending her off with a sweet smile.

He watches as his uncle comes out of the house, sliding the patio door shut behind him and quickly making his way over to his omega. The omega looks up at him when he wraps an arm around his waist. His pretty lips move with soft-spoken words. Harry has to fight to keep his alpha in check when his dirty old uncle's hand dips down, grabbing at the omega's ass and making him jump.

"Dude," one of his cousins says, "Uncle Darron's new omega is such a milf."

8) Waking Up Alone | Mature | 10060 words

"Nothing makes you hurt like hurting who you love"

Love shouldn't hurt, loving somebody with everything you have shouldn't make you feel like you're dying. Louis feels like he’s drowning. He should have known where this was going from the start, he should have been prepared. Now he’s waking up in an empty bed, some days he doesn’t want to even wake up again. There's a hole in his heart; it's in the shape of Harry. Nothing he does can fill it. Drugs, alcohol, pouring out his heart into songs that Harry probably won't ever hear. When Louis is with him, he feels like he’s in heaven. Being alone, that's what he feels he deserves, at least Harry can be happier without him.

Maybe if they met at a different time, under different circumstances, he could have saved them. Louis had to do what was best for Harry, but it kills him a little everyday. Louis sees his smile everyday, but he knows it's no longer for him. Someone else makes Harry happier, but Louis wanted it to be him. They could have had forever. Louis would have given Harry everything.

"Forget what I said, it's not what I meant" Harry had tried to say, but Louis knew that wasn't the truth. After everything they’ve been through, Louis still loves him.

9) To The Beat Of My Own Drum | Explicit | 10285 words

A collection of drabbles.

10) Alone Too Long | Explicit | 10371 words

By the time The Temptress finally reached bay, the Captain only had one thing on his mind, and that one thing was Louis Darling.

11) Straight Boy | Explicit | 12251 words

Young, brunette and handsome, Louis attracts unwanted attention in prison. When his cellmate offers him protection, Louis accepts the offer, even though he doesn��t trust the guy. Little does he know how much it will change his life.

When he’s released from prison, Louis finds himself needing and wanting things he shouldn’t want. Louis is straight. He is. He has a girlfriend. What happened in prison stayed in prison—or so Louis tells himself.

Until he meets his former cellmate again. Harry. The guy he hates and craves.

12) Beautiful Crime | Not Rated | 13282 words

Note: This fic contins no explicit smut but since it’s a/b/o we’ve decided to include it in this monthly roundup. 

Louis is keen to defeat the one and only Alpha Harry Styles who has a notorious reputation in the entire country for his ruthlessness but a turn of events brings them on crossroads which deviate from their havens of war.

13) Anticipation | Explicit | 14156 words

Louis' a stripper. Harry's the new club owner. Louis decides he wants to get in his new boss' pants fairly quickly, but it might take more work than he thought to do that.

14) Strong Enough | Explicit | 20787 words

“So…” Liam starts, and Louis instantly knows where this is going. He’s actually glad it’s Liam that's dragging the subject out from the shadows and into the light. Louis turns to face him, mirroring his position on the couch and nods, ready for him to continue. Liam takes a deep breath. “Have you spoken to Harry recently?”

Five years after Vertigo goes on hiatus, the band comes back together for a benefit concert. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

15) Alpha and Omega | Not Rated | 22270 words

Note: There is no smut where someone bottoms in this fic, but it contains omega Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup. 

Louis finds a new sense of self when the son of the werewolf leader, Harry Styles, comes to town to quell unrest in the Chicago pack and inspires a power in Louis that he never felt before.

Not my own work but rather a reimagination of the book Alpha and Omega with Harry and Louis.

16) Amazing Grace | Mature | 24290 words

Harry’s a dedicated pastor who's happily married, Louis is the troubled youth that stumbles into his life.

17) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27083 words

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

18) Just a Bit Twisted | Explicit | 30548 words

Professor Harry Styles is hated and feared by all of his students. Strict, reserved and ruthless, he doesn’t tolerate mistakes and has little patience for his students.

Louis Tomlinson is a twenty-year-old struggling to provide for his younger sisters after the death of their parents. On the verge of losing his scholarship, Louis becomes desperate enough to go to Professor Styles.

Everyone says Styles doesn’t have a heart. Everyone says he’s a ruthless bastard. Louis finds out that everyone is right.

He strikes a deal with Styles, but unexpectedly, the deal turns into something so much more.

Something all-consuming and addictive.

Something neither of them wants.

19) Like It's A Game | Explicit | 32223 words

There is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

20) We'll Be the Fine Line | Not Rated | 32474 words

“…Hey, Harry. It’s Louis…… um, yeah. Listened to the album tonight. It’s real good mate. Um, yeah, just real, impressed. I was kinda putting it off, ya’know, didn’t know if I wanted to listen to it. Saw you went on James and, uh, Saturday Night Live. Couldn’t watch you, have a hard time watching you on these things……. Anyway, mate, just thought I would drop a line. Don’t need to call me back. Alright.”

Louis listens to Fine Line, and, drunk, he leaves a voicemail for Harry after months of not speaking. This reminds Harry of a time before everything fell apart, slowly, painfully, a time when the two of them were still in love. And he desperately wants to go back.

21) The Space Between | Explicit | 33074 words

Living in East Verona was a privilege. One Prince Harry only found out when he decided to cross the borders into The Zone looking for entertainment, a temptation, a distraction, anything that would allow him to escape his boring, mundane life of luxury.

But what he found was something he never could have expected - poverty, destruction, chaos, but most importantly, a blue-eyed boy.

Together, they embark on a journey plagued with hazards and risks and twists and turns.

Can these two star-crossed souls fight for their freedom and keep each other safe at the same time?

22) Yes, Daddy, I Will | Not Rated | 33510 words

Where Harry is a dom and Louis is his cute little sub.

23) Last Blues For Bloody Knuckles | Explicit | 34241 words

Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake.

He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later.

24) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39593 words

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

25) Hit Me With Your Sweet Love | Explicit | 39690 words

Powerful people only end up with powerful people. The rest are just playthings in their lives. Louis Tomlinson was many things, but he wasn’t anybody’s plaything.

26) Stole My Heart | Mature | 51343 words

Louis doesn't want much. A warm bed, and people who care about him.

Harry has everything he needs, despite his mother insisting he needs a mate. Money, status, and any omega he wants, why lock his heart down.

Until Louis comes along, and steals it.

27) No Going Back | Explicit | 56102 words

Sales reps Harry and Louis are bored with their jobs and their lives. After meeting at a conference in Cardiff they hook up, have a few too many drinks, and jokingly apply to become remote lighthouse keepers. Six months, just the two of them, looking after the southernmost lighthouse off the bottom of Australia. It’s not like their applications will be accepted. Right?

This is the story of how one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.

28) Royal Desires | Mature | 66207 words

When Prince Louis falls into an early heat, his new personal guard Harry Styles is brought in as his heat partner for the time being until Louis finds a suitable royal prince to bond and take the throne with. The only problem is that Harry is everything Louis wants but can't have. Freedom, tattoos, individuality...and quite possibly love.

29) How To Break A Heartbreaker's Heart? | Teen & Up | 67447 words

Harry is straight.

Louis is gay.

Harry happens to be homophobic.

Louis has a dark past.

Harry had a dark childhood.

Will Louis and Harry unite and defy their past? Or will homophobia win for the umpteenth time?

30) Lavender Dreams | Not Rated | 77888 words

Louis is an outgoing person that goes to school for educational psychology and Harry is a biology major who happen to run into each other... a lot.

31) Be My Omega | Mature | 138372 words

It all started when the alpha laid eyes on the short curvy omega and he knew at that moment that his life would never be the same, in a good way of course.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #blp #larry

[fallsofnoir]

Dear Hot Stuff (Adrienette)

Adrinette April 2020 - Day 7 Letters |  AO3

Hope you all like it!

< previous | next > | Support Me on Ko-fi

@adrinetteapril

Marinette was going to kill Alya.

“Hey!” Alya exclaimed as she dodged another swing from her best friend. “He was going to find out one way or another!”

“He-“ she slapped her arm. “Was not-“ another swipe dodged. “Going to-“ another. “Find out.”

“Okay girl, I’m not your punching bag,” Alya exclaimed, grabbing hold of Marinette’s hands before she could land another hit.

“I can’t believe you did that, Alya,” Marinette cried out after she put her arms back by her sides.

“You wrote the letter, what else was I supposed to do?” Alya countered.

“Uh, not send it!”

Marinette hadn’t meant for the letter to get out, she prayed that she’d forgotten to sign it, again. But luck never was on her side when it came to love.

“Then don’t write his entire address on the envelope and add a stamp.”

“Ugh, you are not helping,” Marinette groaned as she collapsed onto her chaise. “What am I supposed to do once Adrien has read it? I called him hot in there, oh no, I called him hot! Alya, I can’t go to school tomorrow and show my face around him!”

“Chill girl, postage takes like 3 days so you can just stop going then,” Alya added over a mouth full of cookie. She wasn’t being helpful. Marinette watched as her friend helped herself to another cookie from the plate on her desk. “Besides Adrien already knows he’s hot, the entire female population of Paris thinks he’s hot. What difference does it make coming from you?”

“Adrien isn’t friends with the entire female population of Paris! I don’t want him to think I’m using him, or obsessed with him like Lila o-or Chloé. ”

Alya raised an eyebrow at her before reaching above her head and pulling out Adrien’s schedule.

“That’s called being a good friend!” Marinette said although she knew her friend was right.

“Okay Miss 'Good Friend' you’re also like the best person I know, Adrien would be crazy not to love you back.”

“You better hope you’re right,” she replied, suddenly sitting up and fixing a glare at her friend. “Or Nino will have to save your butt.”

Alya confidently grinned before popping another cookie into her mouth.

🐞

The postal service in Paris wasn’t amazing, but by day three of the letter going out and still no noise from Adrien Agreste on that front, Marinette was getting anxious. He hasn’t acted out of the ordinary at school, nor had he made any obvious attempts at letting her down easy. So the designer was pretty confident that the letter just hadn’t reached him yet. It didn’t stop her worrying.

In fact, she was so stressed out by the letter that she went to the only other person she could trust.

“You called, m’lady?” The cat in question asked after having touched down next to her on a rooftop. He caught her hand and raised it to his lips in his customary greeting. She smiled at him in reply. Sometimes it was nice just to have the simple things make sense still.

“Okay...” Chat Noir started, a frown appearing briefly on his face. “What’s up? You’ve never not shrugged me off before.”

Ladybug looked back down at where her hand was still in her partner’s grip and shook herself out of it. “Sorry, just got something on my mind.”

She moved over to the roof’s edge and took a seat. He joined her without any hesitation and thankfully waited for her to make the first step in the conversation.

“I may have confessed to the boy I like,” she finally admitted after about five minutes of watching the skyline. He leaned back and looked at her curiously. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, Ladybug, I’ve known your affections lie with another for a long while now. Did it not go well?” He asked gently. If Marinette hadn’t already fallen for Adrien then she was certain Chat Noir was too selfless for her not to fall for him eventually.

“Not that it didn’t go well per se...” she began. Her fingers began to tap on her knee. “I just don’t know what he thinks about it yet.”

“Did he ask you to wait??” Chat Noir was very direct so she wasn’t surprised at the shock in his voice.

“No, no, I sent a letter, well my friend sent my letter,” she explained. “It hasn’t reached him yet, and it was like super embarrassing.”

“Oh, surely it can’t be that bad,” he placed a hand on hers to calm the tapping down. “Did you tell him you want to jump his bones every time you look at him? Call him the very reason for your existence, or tell him you worship the ground he walks on?”

She let out a cry of frustration causing him to jump. “I might as well have.” He let out a laugh which she glared at.

“No come on, Bugaboo, what did you say that was as bad as that?” Chat asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, both to keep himself from laughing and to stop her from flinging herself off the roof from embarrassment.

She covered her face with her hands and hung her head. “I may have called him ....”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said ....”  

“Try again, Bug.”

“Hot stuff! I called him hot stuff, okay?” She exclaimed, she took a big breath before continuing. “I wrote about how I’ve loved him since he gave me his umbrella, about how I still keep pictures of him all over my bedroom, how I wished I could have the real thing in my room, and many many other embarrassing things I’ve planned for our future.”

The arm around her shoulder just squeezed her tighter into the boy next to her. But from the shaking next to her she could tell he was holding back a laugh.

“Yeah okay, laugh all you want.”

“As long as you didn’t tell him the name of your kids I think your all good,” the blond grinned at her. She looked up at him through her fingers still covering her face. “You didn’t...?”

“Emma, Hugo and Louis,” she admitted. “Ugh, the world is ending. That's it, just throw me into the Seine and leave me to drown.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give a great speech at your funeral.” He put his hand on his chest in mock sincerity. She pushed him in response and he laughed. “But seriously, Bug, I still think he’s stupid not to love you back.”

“Thanks, Chat if only he took it as well as you have,” she sighed. “Guess we better get on with patrol.”

He held onto her hand and stopped her from standing up. “Can we stay like this for a while? I think we could both do with a more relaxing evening.”

She looked at him fondly, “on one condition, tomorrow night we race to the Louvre.”

“Deal.”

🐞

The following morning, the nerves were still as prevalent as ever. Marinette tried to focus on eating her breakfast before school but to no avail. Her thought kept drifting to how many different ways Adrien was going to reject her today. He could storm up to her in class with the letter in his hand and push it back into her own hands. He could read it out loud to the class and embarrass her, and then everyone could laugh. He could give it to Chloé, no, that would be just evil, he’d never do that. But he could reject her in front of the whole class. He could ignore her all morning and then reject her at lunch in front of the whole school. He could post the letter on his Instagram and reject her in front of the whole world. Then she’d never be able to get married because everyone would know she was the crazy girl who planned out a whole future with Adrien Agreste.

“Marinette it’s time to go are you ready for school?” Her mother called up the stairs. Dragging herself from her chair, she grabbed her purse and a couple of cookies for Tikki.

Out of all her scenarios that had run through her head of what to expect from Adrien this morning, seeing him chatting to her parents in the bakery was not one of them. He caught sight of her and bid goodbye to them before making his way over to her. She attempted to make her way to her parents before he had the chance but saw her mum shooing her away. She sighed and turned to face Adrien.

“Adrien! What a surprise to see you here,” she said, her face instantly heating up when he reached her.

“Good morning, Mari,” he replied, greeting her with a customary kiss on the cheek. Even that caused her breath to hitch. He leaned back and scratched the back of his neck. “Did you want to walk to school together?”

“I-um, you- yes!” She blurted out.

“Great!” He grabbed her elbow and turned them both toward the school and began walking.

Marinette was silent as she wondered what Adrien could be planning as they walked to school. Of course, she didn’t think about the possibility of him wanting to reject her in private. Now she was going to have to deal with that.

“I got your letter,” he began. She froze up and stopped walking. He must have sensed it as he turned around to face her. She kept her head facing the ground. “Hey, Mari, look at me.”

“I never meant for you to read it!” Marinette spoke up, her hands began to tap against her legs again.

“I know.”

“You- what?” She looked up sharply.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to throw you in the Seine and leave you to drown because you wrote me a love letter,” he winked at her. She frowned, those words sounded familiar but she couldn’t quite place them.

“Why would you-“

“I mean at least you didn’t call me the very reason for your existence, or tell me you worship the ground I walk on. Or say you want to jump my bones every time you look at me.” He reached out to grab hold of both of her hands. “You better not brush me off this time.” And he brought them both to his lips to kiss.

She took a sharp intake of breath. Looking at him from this angle she could see the mischievous glint in his eye when he looked at her. The way his hands held onto hers she could almost feel the claws that were supposed to be on the ends on his fingers. Almost see the tail swishing behind him.

“M’lady.”

She nearly fainted. Adrien was standing in front of her. No, Chat Noir was standing in front of her kissing her hands and she wasn’t pulling back. She stared wide-eyed at him until he laughed and brought her forward in a crushing hug.

“I’m so glad it’s you,” he whispered into her ear. Slowly, she moved her arms to wrap around him too. Her face was probably bright red so she buried it into his chest. “I’m also glad you want to, how did you put it in the letter? Kiss me every time you see me?”

“You stupid cat,” she said, muffled by his shirt. He laughed again but this time she smiled into his chest. Gradually, she pulled herself out of his embrace, despite knowing her blushing would be very obvious. “We’ll be late.”

He didn’t let her get too far away before his hand was tilting her chin and he was bringing her lips to meet his. The world seemed to stop and all the worries from this morning were erased as she melted into his embrace. She could hear the birds chirping in the park next to them and the sound of her heart beating like crazy in her ears. Adrien pulled back to breathe and kissed her once, twice again before removing his hand from her face and trailing it down to meet her hand. She blinked a couple of times, bringing herself back to reality. Faintly, she could hear their school bell ringing.

“Come on, we need to get to school or we really will be late.” She squeezed his hand tight and pulled him along behind her.

She’d have to remember to thank Alya with a visit from Ladybug.

#adrinetteapril2020 #adrinette april #adrinette #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfiction #my fic #falls fic #day 7 #letters #marinette gets super embarrassed #hot stuff

[aaetherius]

@noirmuses​​​

♥ yaSSSS

Send me a ♥ for me to gush about you || Accepting!

                                                               ★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ―☼ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯

NOIR WHY ARE YOU NOT RESTING RIGHT NOW? DO I NEED TO MANIFEST AND BURRITO BLANKET YOU? 

I’m still going to tell you how much I love you anyway, even though you should be resting right now so you better be ready because spoilers it’s a lot!!! So, I’m usually extremely shy OOC (hmmm so, fore example, I have this habit of being super formal at first with people - no chatspeak like I won’t even write lol, no keysmashes, whatnot and then it slowly drops over time as I get more comfortable with someone), and super anxious (part of why it took me 18 years to finally ask you for discor.d when we kept breaking the IM system on here fgdhkfghjd, and I am so very glad I worked up the courage to send you that silly kitchen fire video), but I ended up getting comfortable and throwing all of that away (clearly  gfdhjkgjd) and clicking with you super quickly and it’s honestly been such a blessing! You are so very sweet and such a joy to talk to and also so very understanding! You always bring the biggest and silliest grin to my face whenever we chat and our conversions always bring me so much joy because they’re always a fun time even though you sometimes break my heart!! (You also unknowingly actually helped get me through a super rough meeting at work one day a while ago by just by happening to randomly message me to talk about silly Lucifer and Sandalphon things and I’m still super grateful for it even though it was totally unintentional on your part because you turned my bad day into a wonderful one just by being such a fun person to talk to and as mentioned before you’ve always been super understanding when I’ve reached out to ask you things)! I adore our literal novel-length discord chats of us screaming about our boys, and of course I adore the random other conversations we have as well (cats are above the law and I hope you give Louis lots of pets or clothing chomps, whatever her little heart desires more, for me next time you see her)!  I also know I can just break down your door and slam some artwork down or toss random aus or my brainrot at you and no matter how silly it is, it will turn into some sort of conversation! You’re very easy to talk to, and so much fun to discuss things with, and so very easy to get carried away with, as well, but in a good fun way where I know I can just start screaming my headcanons or things at you in sweeping, messy paragraphs and hit the discord character limit and you won’t mind at all and you will hit me back with the same enthusiasm (usually with more pain, but also fluff and silly things too ghfkgkugyyu)!! I can gush about you for a long time, okay, but I hope you know you’re a wonderful and sweet and kind person who deserves nothing but good things to come your way, and you make me stupidly happy whenever I have the chance to talk to you because you're such a fun and creative and lovely person to know! I am so very blessed to have met you and to have been able to become good friends with you and I love you very much! Also thank you for showing up unprompted all of the time when I make terrible choices in GBF and saving my butt it’s much appreciated jfgdhgukc.    

AND I HAVEN’T EVEN HIT THE WRITING COMPLIMENTS YET SO HERE WE GO! Your writing is so very lovely, and such an utter joy to read whenever I’m blessed with it on my dash! It always keeps me hooked, and your imagery is so very beautiful (g o d some of the lines you’ve written just hit me so hard and it’s so good) and emotional (so many personal attacks and feelings with the descriptions you craft) and I adore it so much!!! Oh gosh, not to mention all of the thought you put into everything you write like the little hints through flower language I love it so much! I always drop everything whenever you reply just so I can rush to read it because I can’t wait! I must read your wonderful replies the very second you post them (even when I’m at work, I’ve literally gone on breaks before at work just to read your responses right away I am actually a nerd dfgjghfluigdlui)! And you write Sandalphon so well! I know how much love and work you’ve poured into him and how much thought you have behind him and it’s so wonderful to see and get to explore! I love getting to see your headcanons unravel in threads and hearing about them and exploring them with you and there’s never a dull moment because there’s so much you’ve thought about and so many ideas you have that I know I’ll always be in store for something! You write Sandalphon’s thought process and emotions so very well too, it’s always such a delight to read! Every thread I’ve written with you is such a blessing, and I adore the fact that we can have a million threads with each other and all of the AUs and all of the 100k slow burn romances between two morons that we desire! And you like soft things which is also a blessing because sometimes just writing some nice, wholesome content is just good for the soul (but also know we can and will and have touched upon heart-wrenching angst, but I also know we’ll make it soft in the end eventually)! And reading it in your wonderful writing is a gift! Your replies give me so much serotonin, and I totally go back and reread our threads from time to time just because they make me happy! I just want to drown you in all of the compliments because I love writing with you and I am so very glad to be able to do so! Being able to build things with you and write stories with you has made my blog such a wonderful and inspiring place to be!     

Also I know nothing about art, but WE’RE GOING TO GO THERE TOO WHILE WE’RE ON THIS TRAIN YOU DON’T GET TO LEAVE JUST YET!! Your art style is super cute and lovely and I adore how very expressive it always is! The way you draw faces/moods is super nice, and how you color only adds to it! It really captures what a character’s personality is or what they’re feeling and I love getting to see it when you post it! 

In conclusion, YOU ARE WONDERFUL AND A BLESSING ON ALL FRONTS!!! 

#noirmuses #cxffexngel #| ☩ Out of Time (OOC) ☩ | #| ☩ Cradled within the gentle breeze ☩ (ask) | #{ WHY ARE YOU NOT SLEEPING SIR } #{ I still love you regardless EVEN THOUGH YOU SHOULD BE ASLEEP and you're very sweet and wonderful and I hope good things come your way! } #{ I wish you many kitty headbutts and boops and tasty coffee and good garden things????? what do you say for good garden luck I don't know #{ but I hope you have it whatever it is gjrdfkgjihclui }

[sarcastically-defensive17]

New Man - T. Holland

@starshonerose and I love Tom Holland a bunch and this kinda just exploded into my brain when I was listening to King Ed Sheeran.

Hope y’all like this! I was happy about it when I finished it but idk how y’all will feel!

Original story by Sarcastically-defensive17

Send in a request if you want! (And if you don’t mind waiting while I drown in uni work)

Anthony was... something. He was a careless boyfriend, a liar, a cheater, and just an all round twat.

Tom couldn’t help the anger he felt every time he saw his overworked, muscular arm wrapped around Y/N’s waist.

I heard he spent five hundred pounds on jeans, goes to the gym at least six times a week.

Sure, Tom worked out. A lot. He was Spider-Man, he had a physique to uphold, but Anthony was something else.

Letting Y/N go was one of the worst decisions he had made. They didn’t part on bad terms, they simply didn’t have time for each other and decided it was best to break up.

Now, he can’t help but wish he was Anthony, and wish he didn’t have to hear about her new man.

Wears both shoes with no socks on his feet and I hear he's on a new diet at watches what he eats. He's got his eyebrows plucked and his asshole bleached; owns every single Ministry CD.

The man was the definition of a douche bag, and Tom knew his only chance was to remind Y/N of the woman she was before Anthony worked his way into her life.

The type of woman that she would pride herself on being.

Tribal tattoos and he don't know what it means but I heard he makes you happy, so that's fine by me.

Being Harrison’s little sister, she was around a lot. And so was Anthony. He couldn’t deny how obviously happy he made her, and that in turn made him happy.

Sure, he was determined to get through to the woman, but if she told him to back off then he would listen to her.

Still lookin' at your Instagram and I'll be creepin' a lil'. I'll be tryin' not to double tap, from way back ‘cause I know that's where the trouble's at.

“If you are looking through my sisters Instagram again, mate, I may have to smack you,” He heard Harrison’s voice ring through their shared house.

Somehow his best friend always knew that he was creeping on the old memories they shared.

“Can’t help it,” tom mumbled. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but notice how much happier she looked when she was his. Before she found Anthony.

He can’t help but think she is faking her happiness.

Let me remind you of the days when you used to hold my hand, and when we sipped champagne out of cider cans. I guess if you were Louis Lane, I wasn't Superman just a young boy tryin' to be loved so let me give it to ya.

His heart basically stopped one night when a notification chimes on his phone. A DM from Y/N’s Instagram account. His heart raced, trying to figure out if he accidentally liked a picture from long ago.

The message was simple: You busy? I can’t stop thinking about you.

She tried to convince him to spend the night with her, and he was considering it, until he remembered that she was with Anthony. He hated the man, but he knew it wasn’t right.

This isn’t the type of person Y/N is. How unhappy is she?

I don't wanna know about your new man 'cause if it was meant to be you wouldn't be callin' me up tryin' to... 'Cause I'm positive that he don't wanna know about me.

A few days after, Harrison spent the day with his sister, consoling her after an intense argument with her significant other.

Tom didn’t know what it was about, but he was ready to pull his brown hair out in frustration when the following day the two were all over Instagram professing their love for one another.

Yet, Tom still receives messages from her, reminiscing on their relationship and subtly flirting. He couldn’t help but let his feelings flow through his fingertips and engage in the flirtatious comments.

I don't wanna know about your new man; We'll get there eventually. I know you're missin' all this kind of love but I'm positive that he don't wanna know about me.

She was so different. He noticed how unhappy she was deep down. She hid it well. How she would spend hours forcing herself to slim down. She changed her diet, he noticed that she was selling the near hundreds of books that she had read countless of times.

It was like she became a new woman for Anthony.

He had just hoped she made the changes for herself.

You were the type of girl who sat beside the water readin', eatin' a packet of crisps, but you will never find you cheatin'. Now you're eatin' kale, hittin' the gym keepin' up with Kylie and Kim.

He took the plunge and knocked on her door one afternoon. He was met with her, wearing athletic wear and a frown deeply set on her lips that he had always admired.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He practically barged his way in. “Anthony here?”

She shook her head, following him as he took a seat on the lounge.

“He’s out with some work mates.”

He gazed around the house. It was as if Y/N didn’t live there. The comfortable quirkiness that used to inhabit every room she occupied was fading, and he hated it.

“What’s going on?” He repeated his question, eyeing her carefully as she dropped her gaze to her feet.

“Nothing? What do you mean?” Her voice was soft, and her posture radiated discomfort.

He wanted nothing more than to pull her to him and hold her like he would before.

He should never have let her go.

“What happened to my Y/N?” He was sad. He was angry. He was frustrated. He was worried.

“I’m not your Y/N, Tom. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Why’re you selling your books?”

“Don’t need ‘em.”

“Why?”

She huffed through her nose, “what is your point, Tom? I have stuff to do.”

“My point, darling, is that you are a completely different person,” he stood, placing his hands on her shoulders softly. “What is going on?”

She refused to meet his eyes, instead stalking off to the kitchen where he noticed a distinct lack of real food.

Y/N was the type of girl who loved to indulge in a greasy burger or chips from the local fish and chip shop. Now, all Tom could find was protein shakes, weight loss supplements, kale. His face contorted in confusion.

She noticed Tom eyeing the open pantry, and the grocery bags full of vegetables.

“Anthony convinced me to try this new diet. Said it wouldn’t hurt to lose a few kilos,” her voice was quiet, fearing the reaction from the brown eyed man.

“He told you to lose weight?”

She nodded softly, eyes downcast.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“If Harrison knew about this-“

“Harrison won’t know about anything tom!” She snapped, her eyes meeting his. He practically melts at the view, despite the fierce look on her face. “There is nothing for him to know because nothing is wrong.”

He pulled his brows together, frowning at the woman who he knew deserved so much better.

“Y/N, he is trying to change you! You are already so different to the person I know you are and it’s scaring me. You aren’t the type of girl to waste her time trying diets and dressing up just to post a photo to Instagram. You are the type of woman that is who she is. You’re the woman that prefers to be comfortable and happy rather than lose a few kilos and put your health at risk.” He had moved a lot closer to her now. His hands were on her face, wiping a tear away that she didn’t realize had fallen. “You’re the woman I am in love with.”

That struck a nerve inside of Y/N. She wasn’t angry, nor was she upset. She was simply confused.

She had tried for so long to move on from Tom, as they both decided they needed to focus on their own lives, especially with Tom traveling here and there to film.

She found Anthony when she was at her lowest and she can’t bear to lose another man that she had in her life. She couldn’t tell herself that she loved Anthony. She knew her heart still belonged to Tom, but she was determined to try to move on.

But Tom’s words through a metaphorical spanner in the works.

Okay, you need to be alone

And if you wanna talk about it, you can call my phone

“I-,” her voice was shaky, her mind racing to think of what to say. All she knew was that his hands on her face was conflicting her thoughts. She shrugged him off, “I need you to go. I need to be alone, Tom. Please.”

He nodded silently, moving towards the door before pausing.

“If you need me, give me a ring, Y/N. I mean it. You deserve better than him.”

I just thought I would tell you, 'cause you oughta know. You're still a young girl tryin' to be loved, so let me give it to ya.

The late nights messages stopped for a few days, until one night a simple message read: “Am I really that different now?”

His heart broke as he apologised to her. He didn’t mean to upset her that badly, he simply wanted her to acknowledge that Anthony was changing her so much. The man grew more controlling as the days went on; even limiting her from visiting her brother because of Tom and his brothers being around.

Everybody was quickly getting fed up.

Baby, I'm not tryin' to ruin your week, but you act so differently, when you're with him, I know you're lonely.

The messages ended in a phone call, Y/N’s sob filled voice flowing through the receiver and Tom whispering sweet nothings and reassurances through the device.

“Darling, you don’t need to stay with him,” he told her. He kept his voice low as to not alert Harrison to their call.

If he found out his sister was in such a tough spot with her controlling boyfriend, he sure as hell wouldn’t let it go on without his fist connecting with Anthony’s face.

“I don’t know, Tom. He loves me,” she replied, her voice as turning up in a question at her last word.

He simply sighed, “If you decide you want to leave him, you know where to go.”

He told her the same thing every time he ended a phone call.

Please remember you're still free to make the choice and leave. Don't call me up, you need to show me.

Almost a week later, a soft knock reverberated through the wooden door, and Tom opened it to revel Y/N in one of her oversized shirts and skinny jean combos that he adored so much.

She smiled wider than he had seen in the entire time she had been with Anthony.

“I broke up with him. He didn’t want me to see you anymore because he saw our messages. I couldn’t lose you again,” her voice was soft, the way it normally is. “You up for a burger?”

Tom’s beaming smile matched hers and pulled her into a bear hug.

His Y/N was back.

I don't wanna know about your new man

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield #spiderman #ed sheeran #songfic

[kiss-my-freckle]

7x18 rewatch.

This will end up long because I”m gonna comment as I rewatch. 

I love this discussion about faith given Liz’s two leaps of faith and those two unicorn foreshadows from 6x20. Liz’s leap of faith in Red to save her daughter from Kirk in 4x6. Liz’s leap of faith in Tom to remarry him in 3x17. I really love this imam, his character overall. He impressed me a great deal in his scenes. 

Clearly the prospect of my death doesn't shake your faith.  How about we see if the prospect of yours shakes his. Keenler. Prospect of having to live without me must’ve been terrifying. It was.

What? Everyone knows wine is dehydrating. So much feeding back to The Apothecary, and I’m not sure why. Either he’s getting poisoned by the second Wicked Wolf, or they have plans with this direction. Maybe it’s not so much the storyline as it is the wine. There’s so much focus to wine. I’ll have to consider it more. Either way, this is the scene that acts as the bridge to Devane’s episode. 

Isolation and planting prints. More to my Tom domino theory. I believe Red framed him for Diane Fowler’s murder. Krilov in solitary. I believe Tom was the one who took Liz for that second memory wipe. Also Richard Game, tied to Tom, who was in isolation due to medical reasons. The mention of locked-door mysteries makes me question if there could be a parallel somewhere. I’ll look through scripts for that as well. 

Red’s successor. Vichyssoise is a creamy, rich potato and leek soup that's usually served cold. One story attributes it to the French king Louis XV, who was terrified of being poisoned and ordered so many people to taste his soup that by the time he ate, it had grown cold. I find this interesting, given my consideration to the Apothecary and Red being poisoned. 

As soon as ‭the transition is complete. What transition? Nothing like putting this into the context of transition when we’re talking about Katarina becoming Reddington, now talking to Liz about how his pregnancy was unplanned. 

You're also the daughter of Katarina Rostova. Believe me, ‭it's not what I had hoped for, or what I had planned for. Red’s collapse acting as the bridge for past and future. But as the good book says, man plans. God laughs. Tom planned, God laughed. 

What changed? I know that before everything changed - my father was kind and decent and beautiful.

Fate of Past, Rederina: Destiny. Fate. Me. You. Fate of future, Keenler baby: Destiny. Fate. Me. You. Red saying, “Perhaps it's time to mend that fence.” I now have visions of The Hand That Rocks the Cradle. That’s how the false mother died in the film, and they ran balcony shots on Liz’s apartment twice. First with Aram, when they were discussing nannies for Agnes. Again, when Liz questioned the woman about Agnes’ drawing of the dead body. It also fits the reference of being impaled by a unicorn. 

Speaking of true love. Marvin in the toy section, talking about wanting kids with Becky - and negoation. Each has something the other wants. I just told you it's at the end of the aisle. 

Marvin: If you don't see it, we're either out or you're not looking hard enough.

Tom: Maybe he’ll be walking you down the aisle. Liz: Not if you’re at the other end of it.

You're holding me hostage. That would speak to Liz’s second memory wipe.  "Try and move the needle.” Makes me think of Red’s lethal injection. 

Seven-card stud, also known as Seven-Toed Pete or Down-The-River is a variant of stud poker. A nice stabbing in the prison. Gutted like Tom. 

Red’s scene with Al. “Imagine the trouble we'd find if you could stay up past nine?”

Red: But I want you to remember what your life really was with him, and imagine all that it could be without him.  Liz: I don’t have to imagine. 

Looks like Tom’s in a little bit of trouble and he’s gonna bring that trouble to you. So... be careful.

You are the devil on my shoulder, Ray. Back to The Informant. I’m the devil on one shoulder, and you’re the angel on her other. She’s in troubled waters, Harold. Please help her to navigate them. Because Tom is the devil on Liz’s shoulder. That’s why he’s there at his grave, talking to Liz. Her tiny island, Ressler. Help her to navigate them, so she doesn’t get swept out to sea.

I... I came as soon as I got Dembe's text. Liz at Tom’s warehouse. I got your message. What is this place? I'm in ‭a bit of a sticky wicket. Follow that with Liz. Your daddy just always taught me to be ready for a rainy day. I don't know. Don't know or can't say?

That bit can be found in 2x20, 2x22, and 5x8. They’re talking about a fingerprint at a crime scene while, as I’ve stated above, I believe Red framed Tom for Diane Fowler’s murder. 

Another mumbly peg like Pete and Caul. 

Maybe Gerard knows. I mean, if that mouthpiece knows anything, Reddington'll get him to blow. I think this was from Arioch Cain, but can’t be sure. 

I’m not gonna get into Ressler’s scene with Liz, I put that in my fate post. I will take note to Ressler seemingly flashing back to that scene, so he heard what Red said to Stark about his blood panel results. I’ll also take note to the “news” dialogues. That’s why they threw in a flashback for Ressler in Roy Cain. He’s gonna look into Red’s medical file for Liz. “Not on my watch.”

Red: You haven’t mentioned my blood panel results. Stark: We’ve been too busy. Red: Not for good news.

Liz: Because it's like I'm in the middle of a monsoon that's constantly threatening to drown me in bad news.

The reference to a telephone book. I’ll have to see if there are any parallels for that as well. Evergreen dip spit and nuts in a Cheerio.Interesting references lately. Dipstick to dip spit. Tuck tail and go, now nuts in a Cheerio. 

I don’t like the way this woman talks to Dembe before he goes to speak with his imam. It’s as if she’s getting off on this. Like she’s enjoying ever second of it. 

Dembe: A man's life is more important than a man's secrets. Imam: Some lives are built on secrets. And when they are revealed, the life they're built on ends as well.

The imam basically knows the difficult choice Dembe is faced with. Dembe is being forced to choose between Red’s life... and the imam’s. Revealing Red’s secrets will kill him, and the imam knows this. That’s why Red is so disturbed by Dembe’s choice. But I think Red has to start realizing that his secret shouldn’t trump a life like the imam’s. Ever. If it were someone like Floriana Campo, I wouldn’t care. If I let you die to save Raymond's soul, how will I ever save my own? The imam is trying to get him to understand it’s not his fault. It’s the fault of the woman, of Red, and of Liz. They put these two in a terrible position with their secrets. Dembe got me in this episode. Sending chills right through me with his tears. 

There are some scenes in this that I’ll be putting to gif, so I won’t bother commenting them. This woman speaks to Dembe “praying” on his decision. It takes me back to Liz at Tom’s grave. “Preying” on the emotions of those that love her most. I commend Dembe for his honesty. He could’ve lied to Red, said he wasn’t gonna tell her anything, but he admitted it. Ledger of a warden. Ledger of Ian Garvey. 

The discussion of a binary choice. I’ll have to see how that compares to a Hobson’s choice because it sounds much of the same. Red states as he did in Cape May. There’s always a choice. Yet later with Marvin, speaks to not having a choice - just as he did at the end of Cape May. You had no choice. It was me or Masha. Like Dembe leaving the imam no choice but remain silent about his abduction. Choices. 

Woman: I'm giving them a choice. Dembe made the right one. If it comes down to it, one day, I hope you will too. Liz: I thought I already had. Woman: You did. And it saved me. But there will be more choices for you to make. Liz: Between you and him. Woman: I don't think one of us can live while the other survives. And I think the outcome is in your hands.

Like Kate, the woman doesn’t feel they can co-exist. But I also find this interesting with regard to the Hobson’s choice Katarina made. Katarina coudn’t survive while Masha lives. That was the path she took. And Red understands Liz’s position because he knows she believes this woman is her mother. 

Marvin: You're giving a cop the keys to your kingdom. Red: Regrettably. Marvin: Why do it? Red: Because where she's going, she'll need it. Marvin: And where, pray tell, is our plucky heroine going? Red: To a very dark and dangerous place. She doesn't see it, or can't accept it, but her path is undeniable. 

“I’ve made many difficult choices in my life. Choices that at one point or another have brought pain and sorrow to everyone I cared about. That’s a heavy burden to bear, even if the path one chooses is the only one in sight.”

Marvin: You make it sound like she has no choice. Red: What did you say? Marvin: I said you make it sound like she has no choice. Red: I guess that is what I'm saying. Sometimes there is no choice.

Red’s dialogue about a dark and dangerous place reminds me of Liz under the table in Lady Ambrosia. It is a long journey through a country that is sometimes dark and terrible. But it’s really the darkness and the light that strikes me. I do believe they’re taking this back to Ruin. Don’t just go off and hide in the dark. Wherever you go, look for some light. Tom is dark, Ressler is light. That’s why Ressler met baby Luke. Light giving. He’ll want to save Liz just as Liz saved him. When it comes down to Liz making her choice, that’s when I think Ressler will tell her how he feels. How he’s felt for the past five seasons. 

I'm unsure of what Red is gonna do with Dembe because it's open to two interpretations. He looks at Dembe and tells Marvin, "Sometimes, there is no choice." He could be saying Dembe didn't have a choice, and because of that, will forgive him. Or he could be stating what Kate told us in S4. "Have no choice? Isn’t that the speech, Raymond?" Liz is basically placed in the same position as Dembe. Choosing Raymond over a woman she believes is her mother. 

Red assumes Liz has no choice. But she does have a choice. He’s simply forcing her to make it in the dark. Perfect time for Ressler to come in and shine some light. Whether or not Red kills Dembe, their relationship will never be the same. But it had to come down to this at some point. Your purpose is to protect Elizabeth, but mine is to protect you. If things get very bad, this will make that impossible. I do beileve the woman is gonna die in 7x19. Berdy is dead. Red is going after the brothers that faked her death because he knows she's alive. “Meanwhile, Liz must make a momentous decision.” And this woman is preparing for Liz to make her choice. I thought a lot about how most people's lives hinge on a few key moments. I think mine only had one moment, and then it was over.

The woman in Paris. If you won’t tell me her name, just tell me this. If we find her, will it end? That is our best hope. 

But when the time is right, when I have the answers, I will find you. Might be a week or a month, but I will find you. We will end this.

Keenler. Then we’ll deal with it. We?

And Ressler. where the hell did he go after talking to Liz about Stark and Red’s medical file? Perhaps he’s doing some recon, preparing to break in. 

#Rederina #Anti-Tom Keen #Anti-Keen2 #Keenler baby theory

[archadianskies]

Of all the days to forget to bring an umbrella, it had to be this one. The heavens seemed to have waited right until he stepped off the bus to open up and drown him in a deluge and now Simon’s trying to make a mad dash to the end of the street. Just as the lights turn green, of course, so he now has to wait for another set of lights to change before he can cross.

“-gallery at four, ready for the opening at seven.” The rain stops overhead, and the most beautiful man he’s ever seen stands beside him, sharing his umbrella over Simon. 

He flashes him a brief smile before continuing with his phone conversation. “No no, no, Chloe you really don’t need to do that you’ve been wonderful and you’ve already done so much.” A bright laugh. “Listen, you’ve already managed to convince Elijah to attend that’s a modern day miracle right there.”

Simon can only gawp at him, can only take in his light brown skin with its cinnamon dusting of freckles, right there over the bridge of his nose, and his stylish trenchcoat with the collar popped and a scarf wrapped casually around his neck. Dressed properly for the weather, and prepared for the rain unlike the poor sod currently sharing his Louis Vuitton umbrella.

“I’m on my way to the gallery right now, just caught up in some heavy rain.” He continues, and for once Simon actually wishes the lights wouldn’t change, that he could stay right here under an umbrella that could pay his rent with a man that’s probably a runway model. “I’ll grab us coffees, is North there too? And Josh? Oh, what, dad’s already there?” Another bright laugh. “Of course he won’t miss an opportunity to meddle with the setup. Alright, I’ll see you guys soon, thanks Chloe.”

He hangs up and pockets his phone, glancing at Simon to offer a grin. “Man these lights take forever to change or what?”

“Oh, uh, yeah- they do I guess?” Simon stammers, feeling and certainly looking like an idiot. “Thanks for um, for sharing your umbrella.”

“No problem.” He smiles and that’s when Simon really gets a good look at his face, discovering the perfect man does in fact have mismatched blue and green eyes. “Where are you headed?”

“Just trying to get to the post office to pick up a package.” Simon points across the street. “Thought I’d make it without an umbrella today but Detroit had other plans I guess.”

“Cafe I’m headed to is just down that way, how about we keep going together?” He wonders how someone wins the genetic lottery like this, how two humans make someone so handsome and then let him loose in the world with those mismatched eyes and those freckles and that smile.

“Sure.”

“Oh you-” He reaches over, and for a brief moment Simon gets a whiff of expensive cologne. “- didn’t press the button.”

Ah. That’s why the lights hadn’t changed in forever. “Of course I didn’t.” Simon sighs, equal parts frustrated and embarrassed. It takes only a few seconds for the pedestrian light to turn green, and he takes care to keep his stride at the same speed as his good Samaritan. They continue down the street, the rain pelting down so noisily Simon can barely hear himself think.

“This is the cafe.” The stranger gestures ahead at a trendy little place called 'Jericho' tucked in a nook. He presses the umbrella into Simon’s hand, their fingers tangling briefly as Simon maneuvres to get a better grip. “I’m getting coffee for a few friends so you go on ahead. Come back here after you’ve got your package from the post office.”

“Are you sure?” Simon stands there dumbly, wondering if Mr Perfect understands he’s just handed Simon something he could literally run off with and sell.

“I’m sure.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Take your time, there’s a queue here anyway.”

“O-ok?” He does as he’s told, he holds onto the Louis Vuitton umbrella and makes his way just a little further down to the post office. He signs for the box and he thanks his twin brother for shopping online and helping fate to line up this little meeting with Mr Perfect that he may sort of possibly probably will gush about on Twitter.

When he returns to Jericho the handsome owner of the umbrella is standing at the counter waiting for the coffees. He smiles at Simon and waves him over.

“Mission accomplished?”

“Mission accomplished.” Simon can’t help his dopey little grin as he stands beside him and points at the box tucked under one arm.

“Order for Markus?” The barista holds out a tray of coffees. “Two more coming, hold tight.”

Markus, his name is Markus, Simon tucks the information away almost giddily.

“I’ll walk you back to the bus stop.” Markus offers with a soft smile. “Wouldn’t want you almost drowning in this weather.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“But I want to.” Markus grins. “Besides, I’m in no rush.”

“Your coffees will go cold.”

“My friends are getting them for free, they have no say in this matter.” He says it so deadpan Simon fails to snort back a laugh. “I didn’t know what you liked, but this place does a mean hazelnut soy latte.” Right on cue, because the universe writes fanfic apparently as Simon discovers, the barista places the last two coffee orders on the bench and Markus hands one to him. “Thought you might want something to warm you up.”

“Is this your first day here on earth as a mortal, do you know humans aren’t this nice to each other so randomly?” Simon teases, and Markus laughs brightly.

“Man, you saw through me so quickly! My leaders won’t be too happy I’ve blown my cover.”

“First you rescue a human from the rain and then you lend him adequate cover against the elements and then you buy him a hot beverage- humans don’t really do that, ‘Markus’ or whatever your real name is.” He continues, his cheeks aching from continuing to grin like an idiot.

“I just thought I better help that cute boy out.” His expression changes, turns into something playful and smouldering and Simon wonders if he just has GAY written on his forehead for the world to see. He must have stayed in stunned silence a moment too long, because Markus takes a step back and his entire demeanour changes.

“Hey man, listen, I’m sorry, I must have read the situation wrong-”

“You’re cute.” Simon blurts, his cheeks rosy red. “You’re really cute, you’re so cute you really can’t call me cute because of how cute you are. You’re totally using that word wrong.”

“Yeah?” Markus challenges, cocking a brow, confidence back in his body language.

“Absolutely.” He manages to share in Markus’ laughter, trying to shove down the feeling of utter mortification at his own behaviour.

“You doin’ anything tonight?” He asks him so casually Simon’s head spins trying to catch up. “I’ve got an exhibit opening at the Abraham Kamski memorial gallery in town.”

“You’re an artist.” Not a question, because of course Mr Perfect with the Louis Vuitton umbrella and the Burberry scarf is an artist.

“I am.” He offers him his hand. “Markus Manfred.”

“Markus Manfred ?” Simon echoes in disbelief even as his hand encloses his and gives it a firm shake.

“The one and only.” Markus rubs his thumb slowly over Simon’s. “And you are?”

“Simon.”

“So Simon, can I have your number so I can send you the event details?” He asks so smoothly Simon figures if the man wanted to start a revolution, if the man asked him to follow him to the ends of the earth he’d say yes right then and there.

“Where did you download how to be so suave?” Simon huffs, pretending to be indignant as he hands Markus his phone. “What secret corner of the internet taught you to be so smooth?”

“I’m an android, all of it was just programmed into me.” Markus shrugs casually as he sends a message to his phone using Simon’s. “More human than human.”

“Oh great, a robot uprising -just what we need.”

“Uprising? No, we’re just trying to live our lives and integrate as best as possible.” He takes a sip from one of the coffees, but keeps his mismatched eyes on Simon the whole time. “Including flirting with cute boys and saving them from the rain.”

“You’re utterly ridiculous.”

“I try my best.”

They walk back to the bus stop, coffees in a sturdy bag hanging off the crook of Markus’ arm and umbrella securely held over them. Simon sips at his hazelnut latte and yes Markus is right, it tastes amazing; nutty and sweet and creamy. He wonders why the universe is in such a good mood today, that it arranged all this so that their paths crossed. When they reach the stop, they barely wait a minute or two before the bus pulls up. Much to Simon's dismay, since he honestly could've spent many more hours standing beside Markus Manfred, huddled under an umbrella together.

“I’ll see you at seven, Simon?” Markus grins, something hopeful and playful all at once. Simon feels his heart skip a beat, his cheeks flushing as he smiles in return.

“I'll be there at seven, Markus.”

#dbh markus #dbh simon #detroit: become human #simkus #simarkus #meet cute #annie writes: dbh #it's on ao3 but hey let's put it here too because i enjoyed writing CUTE THINGS #annie makes stuff

[aesthetic-survivor-of-twd]

What will you do when you leave this blog? are you still going to be on Tumblr or are you leaving everything? it's sad that we won't be able to speak to you anymore.

(This will be the last post I make on this until the day comes just so i’m not killing everyone’s Tumblr dashboard with my depressing stuff)

----

I was going to address this when it actually happened but since some people have been asking me things regarding it ever since it was brought up, i’m going to answer some common questions (hope you don’t mind me compiling them here on your Ask - I just don’t want to annoy anyone with me constantly talking about it on the blog ^^;). Here are some common questions:

When are you leaving?

I don’t know. I want to say after the Louis Character Study but I’ll see how it goes. I might be around for a short while after it in case people want to say anything to me but I can’t see me being here until the end of the year.

What does this actually mean for the blog? Will it be deleted?

I will still be on Tumblr - just not running this blog anymore. This blog will never be deleted, but I won’t be making posts or answering Asks anymore (though given how slow my queue is posting these days I won’t be surprised if it’s still posting even after I leave ^^;). I’ll most likely be using my main Tumblr to reblog normal things and maybe set up a new blog for DC related stuff or something idk.

Is there a way we can still talk to you after it happens?

If you have me on Discord or something then I will still be interacting with you - probably more so actually since I won’t be juggling something else on top of it. As well as that, I might come on here to respond to private messages people send me since I do have friends on here that I talk to.

Why ARE you leaving?

That’s...a very long answer which I don’t think i’ll go into right now. But I guess the simplest way to explain it is that my blog is no longer what it once was and i’m now at a crossroad where I either:

A) Cling onto this blog on the off chance that I have messages to respond to all while dealing with the depression i’ve gotten myself into over it.

B) Leave my blog and move on - helping myself mentally and also leaving my blog with some dignity left instead of driving it into the ground with random nonsense.

It’s kinda hard to explain but I feel like as much as I love this fandom, having myself still linked to it with how everything has changed is just doing more harm to my mental health than good? I don’t know if that makes any sense or not. 

My blog died when episode 4 dropped and arguably a little before then. And i’m not complaining - that’s just how things are. I started off in this fandom as a blog analysing the shit out of Louis, then became someone who analyses everything in the season as well as a source of TWDG news and updates.

Without all of the above as well as an audience, I’ve kind of lost my sense of purpose here. And to be someone who was so focused on the above to now no longer having any of that...is kind of depressing? right now I feel like i’m clinging onto old memories because i’m scared to leave them, but i’m not progressing either so i’m just stuck in this weird limbo, you know?

If I don’t leave this blog then i’ll just keep clinging onto it until I make myself worse. I need to put TWDG behind me and move on for my own sake. Which is funny because months ago i’m pretty sure I was all like; “I will never leave this blog until the day I die” lol.

But yeah, I hope people understand what I’m trying to say.

In Conclusion

I’ve always been a firm believer of ending on a high note. I applied that perspective onto TFS when I said that despite being sad that it’s over, I’m glad that Clem’s story ended on a good note and won’t be ruined by being dragged on until it loses what charm it had left.

Well, the same goes for this blog.

I want it to be remembered for the good it did and the joy it brought people - even if it’s ultimately coming to a close. Because the memories I/we had on here were real and i’m forever grateful for them. I don’t want to be remembered as that blog that faded out and just kept talking about depressing stuff until it drowned out everything else. I want to be remembered for what I was during the season when we were all having fun together and gushing over all of the wonderful characters.

Things change and and things end, but that’s okay. 

#asks #i'll put it under a read more bar so it's not spamming people

[abbyholmes]

Marvey-Fanfiction - Can I lean on you?

Summary:

After the fight with his mother (S6E12 "The painting") Harvey hastily leaves his family behind, returning to a loneliness that seems to suffocate him. Knowing that the firm is still in danger, Mike is still angry with him and Donna can't help him this time, Harvey slides down a dangerous trail of anxiety and depression. When things seem to get out of hand, his Pearson Specter Litt family rushes to his aid. But only one of them seems to be able to get through to him. Mike.

AN:

This is going to be my first Suits-Fanfiction, even though I wanted to write something about the show for years. Episode 12 of season 6 got me thinking about what would've happened if Harvey left after the fight with his mother without reconciliation.

The begining of the story focuses mainly on Harvey, but later on I'll also get to Mike's and the other character's POV. And there will be Marvey. And Angst. And Fluff. I promise.

Inspired by the Song "Bad Habit" by Ben Platt. The title (and some of the chapter's titles) are taken from it's lyrics.

I hope you'll enjoy this :)

TW: Depression, anxiety, alcohol abuse

Chapter one – The voices in my head

Harvey tried to drown out his brother shouting something after him. He didn’t turn back so he wouldn’t have to watch the disapproving headshake, the disappointment and the hurt in his brother’s eyes. He handed his suitcase to the waiting cab’s driver and got into the car. “The airport please“, he said once the driver sat down behind the wheel and was surprised by the shake in his own voice.

Harvey knew the panic attack was coming before it arrived. Something inside him tingled and without another warning, he fell down the anxiety spiral. Everyone was leaving him or pushing him away. He was all alone. His breathing got uneven and his chest seemed to tighten when the shaking started. He glued his gaze to the window, kept staring at the suburban streets rolling past. Nausea crept up from his stomach into his throat and he knew he was going to be sick. His eyes started stinging. Here he was. Harvey Specter, feared shark in the big ocean of ruthless lawyers, ready to puke into a dirty old cab. „Can you pull over for a minute, please?“ His whisper was barely audible, but the driver, who had already been eyeing him in the rearview window, did as he said and stopped the car. Harvey was out before he even thought about it. His eyes registered that they were on an empty road leading out of town when his body finally let him bend over and throw up on a grass verge. He steadied himself holding onto a light post and just waited for it to be over. When there was nothing left inside him to throw up, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his mouth. He took a deep, shivering breath and tried to remember what his therapist had taught him. He tried not to fight the anxiety but to let it wash over him like waves that come but also go and finally calmed down enough to get back into the car. The driver looked at him with concern. “Everything alright, sir?” “Must have eaten something spoiled.” “To the airport then?” Harvey just nodded and leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, closing his eyes and swallowing the tears in his throat.

Back at the condo, Harvey just threw his suitcase into a corner and fixed himself a scotch before he even got out of his shoes. The liquid burned in his sore throat, but he immediately refilled the glass, fuller this time. He moved to the window overlooking the city and stared at the glittering lights in the darkness. The streets were crowded. People had somewhere to be, something to do, someone to see. Harvey hadn’t. He checked his phone only to see that Louis and Donna had called him a couple of times. He sighed. Donna had also texted him. Twice. Donna, 02:04 pm How much do you think you owe me for sending you home? Thank me later. Donna, 07:35 pm Hate to disturb your domestic family bliss but will you be back tomorrow? Louis seems to be losing it a bit and I don’t know how long I’ll be able to calm him down. A third one arrived just as Harvey had finished reading the second. Donna, 11:43 pm Are you alright? I bet you are and I know you hate texting but just a quick note would be great. Otherwise I’ll cancel tomorrow’s appointments. He emptied his glass and texted back. Harvey, 11:45 pm I’m fine. Will be back at the office tomorrow. Then he turned off his phone, grabbed the scotch-bottle and moved to the bathroom with it.

The hot water running down his spine relaxed his flight-sore muscles but not his restless thoughts. He kept replaying the conversation with his mother over and over in his mind, asking himself how he could have thought that they’d ever get along again. She hadn’t changed one bit. She still thought that her behavior could be excused, that what she had done to him could simply be erased. That it was partly his fault that they had no relationship at all when she had been the one that made him who he was. It had taken Harvey years and hours of therapy to understand that his fear of letting anyone close was rooted in his mother’s abuse of his loyalty and trust. She was the one who raised him into a man doubting everything and everyone by putting him in the position of lying to his own father. By making him stand between his parents, having to choose his loyalties between two people he equally loved. He knew his father had forgiven his mother. But Harvey couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not as long as she didn’t understand that as a parent she should have never done what she did. Because she had destroyed a part of him forever. A part that could neither be fixed by apologies nor accusations. It was lost forever, tearing him apart whenever someone left him behind. How dare she still believe that he was the one who needed to be forgiven? He wanted his mother back in his life, yes. But not if she only wanted to make him feel guilty again. He’d had enough of that already.

He was still lost in thought and anger when he wrapped a towel around his hips and poured himself his sixth scotch. He swallowed it quickly and avoided looking at himself in the mirror. It would only make the lump of guilt in his throat ache even more. He grabbed the half-empty bottle instead and went to bed with it.

He woke up from a nightmare at the middle of the night, knocking his glasses and some paperwork he had been working through before sleep off his lap. Harvey sat in the dark, panting and rubbing his shivering hand over his face. The nightmare still sat in the back of his head, making his skin crawl. He had dreamed of Mike again. Of watching him walk inside that prison, not turning back. Harvey swallowed. Mike was out of prison now, safe. He knew that. But the nightmare still haunted him the same way it had for months. His chest ached and Harvey tried to take a deep breath to make the pain go away. It didn’t work. The lump is his throat was back and darkened his thoughts. He knew the nightmare still haunted him because he deserved it. It was his fault that Mike had gone to prison. His fault he had been mistreated and beaten. His fault that he would never be a lawyer again. His fault that Mike was angry with him for barging in with his life without even asking permission. If he hadn’t employed Mike, supported him to commit fraud, covered up proofs of him not being a lawyer, endorsed him to keep going even when it got dangerous…maybe all of this would never had happened. He should have helped him to get into law school. To become a proper lawyer. Instead, he had ruined his life. He had let him go to prison for something that should have put himself behind bars as well. He hadn’t taken the fall for Mike as he should have. And now he had lost him. Lost what they’d had. It was his fault. All of it. Harvey felt his eyes sting again, and this time, in the empty silence of his bedroom, he let the tears come. They rolled down his cheeks, hot and sticky, and he just let himself fall back onto his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut to stop them from falling. Why did he always make everyone miserable? Why couldn’t he ever do anything right? Why was he such a horrible person?

He didn’t find answers or sleep that night. The tears had dried when the sun rose, leaving him with emptiness instead. He got up, got dressed and went to the office without even stopping at the coffee cart.

Soooo. This was chapter one. Any thoughts? I’ll also be posting this at the AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647697/chapters/41615957

#Suits #Marvey #mike x harvey #harvey x mike #suits season 6 #suits s6e12 #fanfiction #suits fanfiction #angst #fluff

[louisfeatharry]

here’s a ‘ally gets really sappy’ post

i got inspired to do this by a bunch of other people on my dash lmao so here goes! this isn’t really a follow forever but more of a shoutout to the specific people that have made 2017 truly one to remember :’) i might make a part 2 of this because there’s a lot of people to talk about and this is prob gonna get really long because i don’t know what being concise means!

@imlouisaf: you’re my best friend on this hellsite, the person that legit gets me 100% whether it’s us spending ludicrous amounts of money on 1d or talking nonstop shit. 2017 wouldn’t have been half as fun without you from my weekend getaway and seeing louis at the TCAs with you to you kicking my ass when it came to my big bang to you staying over at my house for a week and us not killing each other to paramore/harry in nyc/philly. you always encourage me to live my best life and do what makes me happy even if you’re sorta a bad influence. i can’t wait for 2018 with you and our several harry shows (lmao) and the one niall show. you’re a blessing and i love u v much

@flickersesh: my daughter, my pride & joy, the niall to my louis! i love you so fucking much. you’ve talked me through some real rough times and dealt with my dumb ass crying, so i know that you’re one of the real ones who always has my back. thank you for your constant support and love and for always talking sense to me and talking me down from ledges. i love having you in my life, and i can’t thank you enough for this past year for sticking around. :’) and i can’t wait to come down to raleigh and see our man, niall, with you and the other members of our squad. :’)

@niallandtommo: stef, my fave nouie! what would i do without you constantly shitting on me and my sometimes lowkey, sometimes highkey narry love? LMAO you’re still one of my most Fame™ friends, and i still can’t believe you follow my mess of a blog. i also still can’t believe that you put up with me and my soft larrie bullshit or with the spam of larry manips and gifs i send to make us cry. but most importantly, thank you for having my back when i feel insecure about some things and for validating me when i need it the most. i love you so much!

@craicthatniall: KELS, 2017 wouldn’t have been 2017 without you in it. we’ve had a year supporting (y)our man(s) from camping out all night (and then in the rain) for niall at the today show to going to shawn mendes and getting you drunk with (y)our sista to going to the today show AGAIN and talking to the today show peeps about how much we love niall and promo-ing dat album on national tv!!! to the niall concert where i got ya into 3rd row and almost made you take a naked lap in a bar :’) so many memories and so many good times and even though i make fun of you like 75% of the time i’m with you, it comes from a place of so much love. we’re meeting niall (!!!!!!!!) together (!!!!!!!!) this year and attending like all the fucking shows together, and there’s no one i would want by my side at a niall concert than you :’) i love love love ya! and tell your sister i love her too!

@hrrystyles: i was gonna make this short and be an asshole, but i guess i’ll be nice and loving. deemon, our relationship is v much love/hate but the hate is v loving and the love is said through hate, and we’re constantly like :/ at each other, but i wouldn’t have us any other way. thank you for your constant friendship through all the bullshit of this year and for being one of the few ******* i can tolerate on this site. mostly because you’re just a genuinely nice human being who doesn’t have the capacity to be rude for no reason. sdlkfjsldfjasldf aNYWAYS i love u v much even if i say i hate you and i hope harry/niall love you again and actually come to your country for a concert lmfao.

@midnight-kfc: B! i hope you’re not dying because of your broken door and i hope you’re staying warm to continue to love liam and ot5 with me. running a liam UA isn’t easy in the fucking slightest, and we def feel like we’re drowning when it comes to major events like fucking jingle ball, but we get this shit done even if it has to be over gchat. talking to you is always a laugh, and our constant refrain of “SHIT WHAT IS LIAM DOING NOW” will never not be funny and panic-inducing. thank you most of all for keeping my love for liam alive amongst all the crazy shit going on with the other boys. 

to the larry fic gc, @harrysayingnympho @thiccmom @gloryhalleloujah @leggy-pop @virglows @peachnouis @dearmrsawyer @pinkharold @haroldtea, stef, and justine: you guys honestly see me when i’m on my real bullshit, and y’all don’t (mostly) get mad at me for it. thanks for not voting me out of the tribe yet, and thank you for the constant source of fic recs when i need them! we’re v chill and i love that about us the most. y’all don’t wild out on me and instead keep me sane when most of this fandom makes me wanna quit

to my ot5 angst/spaces between us chat, @lifesbetterasamermaid, @in-madhouses, and isbah: what can i say except i’m thankful for y’all every single day! i’m glad i can love all of ot5 with y’all without being judged and that i can share my excitement for ot5 solo projects with y’all and have that excitement reflected right back at me! thank you for always providing the angst and the laughs and for being bitter with me when the time calls for it. raleigh 2018 and niall are calling us and it’s gonna be so, so, so sweet to experience that with you all!

to the louisgalaxy peeps, old and new: thank you for helping me get the blog off the ground and thank you for your support and dedication through it all! it’s def not easy being the type of blog we are, but we do it because we love louis. i can’t thank you enough for sticking through this year, and i can’t wait to see what 2018 brings us!

to the dailyniall friends: i’m glad i could make our gc lit again. MOGLA. dlskjfslkdfjj but forreal d(b)n is a fuckin ride with yall and crazy as all hell, but we love our man and we love nouis and i couldn’t have picked a better (and hella efficient and productive and kickass) team to support and give our boy the #1s and bragging rights he deserves!

to the motorbike girl gang: DRINKING WITH YOU GUYS ON NYE WAS FAB LMAO i know we don’t talk /as/ often as we used to, but our chats are always A+ and we always look out for each other no matter what. we’re all hella fucking chill despite the amount of tea we spill from time to time, but you’re all just amazing people. and i’m blessed to have y’all at my fingertips if i ever wanna get drunk. LMAO

to the ohana gc: bless y’all for being the good ot4/ot5 space i needed this year. we’ve ranted a lot, bitched a lot, and gotten upset at what this fandom has become, but you all remind me that there’s good amongst it all. the lot of you are some of the sweetest, purest, and kindest people i’ve met in the fandom thus far, and it’s been lovely to be your friend this year. thank you for your love and for your friendship. no to the penguin and baldrection memes. that’s a hard pass.

and finally to all the tumblr friends i’ve met this year that have accompanied me to various 1d/non-1d related things and have made memories with me that i hold dear in my heart. thank you for your company and for being amazing friends in 2017. this past year wouldn’t have been half as lit without y’all. @loumyprince @haroldjagger @fromherlips @aliensingucci @henuttedinher​ @throughthedark​ @foliealou​ @jesysparabatai​ @gratitudecafe​ @harrystyies​ @champayne-problems​ (and i hope i didn’t forget anyone rip)

#i found this in my drafts #and i'm just gonna publish it bc whatevs lmao #i prob missed people but rip #blog rec

[1000-directions]

Song questions: #8 and #26 Pick any prompt: #1: Louis reacts to Liam/Bear and the yeezy's IG post #2: Danielle and Louis have a loving goodbye on his birthday #3: Nick comes home to find two popstars in his bed

If Danielle really thinks about it, he’s been slipping away from her the entire time they’ve been together. Those first few months felt like a dream, like the experiences she was living and the memories she was creating were just ephemera she’d never truly be able to catch and hold onto. It was breathless, beautiful, so much more than she’d hoped for, and she woke up so many mornings to see him sleeping on the pillow beside her and thought to herself how is this really my life, this doesn’t feel like it’s really my life. And soon enough, it won’t be her life anymore. She knows this. Part of her has always known this. He’s her nightlight. Brilliant and breathtaking and just out of reach.

She’s been so quiet about their relationship, contained so much of it inside her when all she’s wanted to do is scream about it. So she posts a picture of him on Instagram for his birthday, because she knows it’s her last chance to adore him in public. Happy birthday my love she captions it. Four last words. She never had a prayer of condensing their entire relationship down into a vessel as small as words, but she sends them out into the world, and she means them with her whole heart. My love, my love, my love. You laughed at my jokes, and I was so proud to make someone as clever as you laugh. You held my face in both of your hands when you kissed me, and your touch was always so delicate and reverent, like you were touching something sacred. You put your arm around me any time I was nearby, and you made me feel safe. You made me feel yours. You loved me the best you could, with your brilliant, fractured heart. My love.

“If you need somewhere to stay,” he says awkwardly. “I don’t want you on someone’s couch while you figure it out. I can get you a room somewhere. As long as you need.”

“I don’t need your help,” she says softly. “Thank you, but I really don’t.”

“I didn’t want it to end this way. I never wanted to hurt you,” he says. And he has hurt her, so badly that she expects the pain will echo throughout most of the rest of her life. But she can’t be mad at someone who has been through what he’s been through. As much as she’s hurting, she knows he’s hurting more. And she fucking hates that she doesn’t get to stick around and help him through it. She hates that this is it for them, that she was here for him this entire terrible and wonderful year, and now he’s done with her, and she doesn’t get to be with him as he gets through the fallout with whatever he’s got left.

“I love you so much,” she says, and her traitorous eyes tear up. And he just looks at her helplessly, and he looks so, so tired. The circles under his eyes are purple, and he’s wearing a shirt so big that he’s drowning in it, and he looks vulnerable and scared. Like he’s a little boy who needs his mom. And she would give him anything, anything, anything in the world, but she can’t give him that.

“You know I love you, too,” he says hoarsely. And she takes his face in both of her hands, and she touches him so delicately and so reverently, and she kisses his beautiful, sacred mouth.

“Just touch me one more time,” she whispers against his lips.

“Dani, we shouldn’t,” he mumbles.

“Please, let me have this,” she says, and her fingers are trembling against his cheeks. “I won’t ask you for anything else.”

He nods hesitantly, and she traces his eyebrow with her index finger, just barely touching him. He closes his eyes, and she maps out the rest of his face, fingernails grazing the harsh lines of his cheekbones and the graceful slope of his nose. She memorizes his face with her hands, and then she kisses him again and pushes him towards the bed.

She starts to unbutton her jeans, but he steps closer and says, “I’ll do that,” replacing her hands with his. Her whole body feels like it’s vibrating as she tries so hard to stay perfectly still, doesn’t even want to breathe. His hands are so assured as he pushes her jeans down over her hips, and he crouches at her feet and lifts them one at a time so she can step out. He kisses the inside of her knee while he’s down there, and then he leans his forehead against her thigh, and his eyes slip shut, and he doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then he’s moving back up her body, and his mouth is so warm against her skin as he slowly makes his way up her leg. He sucks a kiss high on her inner thigh while he begins to roll up her shirt, and then his mouth is on her stomach, and she sucks in instinctively, like she always has. He’s always lingered there when he undresses her, and this is the last time that his beard will scratch up her sensitive skin, and she misses it even as it’s happening. She already misses him so much.

She pulls off her own shirt while he’s still down by the bottom of her ribcage. She moves to unhook her bra, but he catches her hands before she can.

“I want to,” he says, but he doesn’t right away. He kisses up the side of her body, and she shivers under his mouth, the tickle of his beard and the damp warmth of his breath commingling against her skin in her sweetest favorite torture.

He walks her backwards to the bed and he lays her out. He’s still fully dressed, and she’s just in her bra and panties, and he looks at her, takes his time and really carefully looks at her, from her toes all the way up her body to her face.

“You’re so beautiful that it doesn’t even seem real,” he says, and he leans down to kiss the arch of her foot, and then he unceremoniously takes off his shirt and drops it on the floor. She drinks in every detail of him as he climbs on top of her, the sticking-up bits of his hair that he’s always fussing with, the way the tattoos on his chest are so stark against his pale skin, the jut of his clavicle and the hollow behind it. He’s so thin, and he’s so lovely. She doesn’t want to forget.

“I’m always going to love you,” she whispers right before he kisses her. He doesn’t answer, but his hand gently strokes her side the way she loves, and he kisses her forehead and her nose and the wet patches beneath each of her eyes, and she knows.

#i wrote a thing #love you goodbye #louelle #louielle #i still don't know what we were calling it #alligatornyc #these prompts were all really amazing #i might come back to the others #for future reference

[newyorkbaby]

If you see this, post a snippet from your current WIP

I saw @fondleeds post so I thought, why not!

Louis polishes his spoon with the hem of his shirt by the light of the fire, ignoring the ache in his back and the soreness of his bum. The flat cushion he's sitting on is easily the most uncomfortable bed he's ever had, but it's better than sleeping on the cold tube station floor.

He hums along to the radio, some oldies singer crooning out a song Louis has heard hundreds of thousands of times in the past six months. It's just habit, by now.

When his spoon is reasonably clean, he yanks open his satchel and digs around. While there isn't much left to choose from, he still feels indecisive as he pulls out a can of pork 'n' beans and a rolled up bag of Weetabix.

He considers the fact that it's the last of his cereal, the box having only lasted him a few days. He knows he should hold on until he can restock, knows he should savor it, but the cereal-aholic in him takes over and he grabs his bowl and dumps out the remains.

Some powdered milk, some (hopefully) less-than-lethally irradiated water, and soon Louis is digging in. The satisfying sound of his crunching muffles out the droning from the radio, and makes it harder to hear Grimmy's voice as the song comes to a close.

"That was Way Back Home by Bing Crosby and the Bobcats," he says, "in case you have been living under a rock for your entire life and didn't already know."

Louis chuckles to himself after swallowing another spoonful of cereal.

"Honestly," Grimmy continues, "the biggest tragedy of the apocalypse is being left to play the same 10 records over and over again! Anyway," Louis can practically hear Grimmy's eyes rolling, "up next is Roy Brown's Butcher Pete, so enjoy and don't forget to take your RadAway!"

Louis grimaces as the next song starts up, setting aside his mostly-empty cereal bowl and grabbing his pack. He hopes the food he's been eating hasn't been too contaminated, but everything he's eaten since leaving the vault has had that telltale metallic taste to it, so he's not quite sure.

He pulls out three empty packets of RadAway before he finds one with a little bit of solution left. It'll have to do.

Loading up the needle and taking the shot, Louis winces through the sting as the chemicals rush through his bloodstream. Fortunately, he's had lots of practice delivering intravenous medicines. He lets his mind wander as the solution settles, remembering the hours he had spent helping his mother in the vault's clinic, bandaging up scrapes for the kids and helping give the old-timers their pills. He remembers watching his mother struggle to find a useable vein in Mrs. Pennington, an old woman on her way out of this life. When his mum had finally succeeded at connecting the IV, they both watched as Mrs. Pennington drifted to sleep for the last time.

He remembers being afraid to die. Now, though, he knows there are worse fates than dying peacefully in a warm bed, surrounded by friends. Now he's afraid he'll die alone, brutally, without ever knowing the fate of his mother, his sisters, his baby brother.

Louis' thoughts are interrupted by shuffling from down the tube corridor.

He's been living in this underground station for months, having stumbled upon it when he gave up his search for his family near the vault and decided to move south. Since then it's been his home base, and he's suffered his fair share of visitors, mainly in the form of feral dogs and ghouls. Still, he knows that any day could be his last, and the idea of being ripped apart by the monsters of the wastes sends his heart rate spiking.

Leaving the radio on as a cover for the noise, Louis slinks away from the fire he's built in the middle of the platform and hides behind a pillar, loading his last few energy cells into the laser pistol that's barely managed to survive the past few months without repairs.

Louis holds his breath as the shuffling gets closer. He can't pick up any breathing, as is usually the case with feral dogs, and the average feral ghoul usually never stops howling and grunting. He hopes it's just a mutant mole rat or perhaps an oversized insect, but with Louis' luck, he doubts it.

Grimmy's voice continues to spout off on the radio, echoing off the cement walls and bouncing down the tunnels. He announces the next song, and the Glenn Miller Orchestra kicks off a jazzy rendition of At Last. The fire crackles loudly once, twice, and Louis tries not to let the idea that his killer could be on the other side of the pillar he's hiding behind.

When he hears the sound of tin cans being knocked over, and a quiet "shit!" is blurted out by the intruder, Louis' heart jumps into his throat. He acts on instinct, spins around the pillar and points his pistol at the dark figure looming over his things.

"Oi!" he shouts. "Drop your weapons and put your hands up!"

The intruder - a man, Louis notices - squeaks and drops what Louis recognizes as his own copy of Tumblers Today. His hands fly up as he turns towards Louis, and the light from the fire illuminates his face.

Louis' hands tremble as he takes the man in, from his dirty boots to the messy bun that sits on the top of his head. His eyes are wide and seem black in the poor lighting of the tube station, and his fingers are visibly shaking where they poke out of his fingerless gloves. He's taller than Louis, and broader, but he looks as if he's just seen his entire life flash before his eyes. Louis can't blame him, really. Nobody likes surprises, not in the wasteland.

"What are you doing here?" Louis demands, hoping the tremors in his voice are somewhat hidden by the gentle love song playing in the background.

"I-I'm just looking," the man stammers, "just looking for parts!"

"Parts? What do you mean, parts? What kind of parts?" Louis knows the man must be looking for weapons and ammo, same as Louis has been doing for the past six months, but he's so completely shocked to see another human that he can't quite figure out what exactly he should say.

"Anything," the man says. "I look for scraps, for tech, anything! Please don't shoot me!" His voice, though deep, jumps a few octaves when he pleads.

"Quiet!" Louis hisses, nervously rocking from foot to foot. His inclination is to believe the man, but his head is fuzzy and his heart is pounding and dammit, he didn't even know there were other people still alive out here! "Have you got any weapons?"

The man nods. "In my bag, and in the holster." He nods again, this time towards the belt that is resting snug against his hips.

Louis looks closer, feeling his heart return to a semi-normal pace of beating. The stranger isn't lying; there is definitely an old-school pistol tucked into a holster on his right side, and he can see what looks to be the barrel end of a rifle sticking out of the top of his backpack. There are also multiple purses slung across his chest, Louis notices, although he's not sure what their purpose is. He doubts the man is trying to make any fashion statements, but, stranger things, and all that.

"What else do you have on you?" Louis asks, lowering his gun slightly, but not entirely.

"Just scrap metal, a few batteries, ammo, some food-"

"Alright," Louis stops him. "I get it. Listen-"

"Harry," the stranger supplies.

"Right. Harry. Listen, I-"

Both of them stop talking as a series of howls interrupt their encounter. The hairs on Louis' arms and the back of his neck stand at full attention. He knows that noise, absolutely.

"Ghouls," he whispers.

Harry is immediately three steps further away than he was before, though his arms are still raised. Louis re-aims his pistol on the stranger.

"Hold it," he demands, his voice a harsh whisper. Another series of howls rings out, and Louis regrets not switching off the radio before. The love song has ended and Grimmy is chattering away, likely drawing the ghouls in, but Louis refuses to turn his back to the stranger for even a second.

"I'm sorry I intruded," Harry says as he continues to move back incrementally, "but I really must be going."

"But!" Louis quickly runs through excuses to keep the stranger in place in his head. He is untrusting, and he's scared, but maybe Harry knows where other people are. Maybe he's seen-

More screeching, and grunting. The ghouls are surely just around the bend, soon to descend on Louis' hideaway.

"Come with me," Harry blurts, and Louis swallows hard.

It's a huge risk. Harry might kill him, or worse.

Still, between another living human and a pack of glowing, flesh-dripping mutants, the choice is somewhat easy.

"Okay."

Louis puts down his gun, grabs his pack, and shovels in what he can before he takes off after Harry. As they ascend the platform steps and break out above ground, Grimmy's laughter is drowned out by the howling of the feral ghouls.

#uhhh i've never shared anything from my wips before! #i've been working on this since august it's a fallout 3 au fksjhdkfjs but yeah uhhhh that's that #mine #i posted under a read more sorry if it doesn't work on mobile

[ralphmorgan-blog1]

Does Anyone Hate Donald Trump More Than Donald Trump? An Interview With David Shields

Cataloged in Psychology

Does Anyone Hate Donald Trump More Than Donald Trump? An Interview With David Shields

David Shields Updated September 22, 2018

In his new book,  New York Times bestselling author David Shields deconstructs the idiot-savant-autocrat at 1600 Pennsylvania, his fan-fiction base, and the emotional needs/moral failures of the city, country, and world that created him.

 is at once a psychological investigation of Trump, a philosophical meditation on the relationship between language and power, a satirical compilation of the collected wit and wisdom of Donald Trump, and above all a dagger into the rhetoric of American political discourse—a dissection of the politesse that gave rise to and sustains Trump. The book is organized into six chapters and 60 subsections and gets increasingly harrowing in its focus, moving from childhood to sex to media to virtue-signaling to chaos theory to “apocalypse always.” The book’s central thesis is that we have met the enemy and he is us.

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A conversation with David Shields

David sits down with Leah Paulos to discuss his new book, , a psychological inquiry into Trump’s brokenness, a philosophical meditation on the relationship between language and power, and a satirical compilation of the wit and wisdom of Donald Trump. Above all, it functions as a dagger into the rhetoric of American political discourse—a dissection of the politesse that gave rise to and that now sustains Trump.

Leah: There are a lot of Americans, including this interviewer, who despise Trump with every cell in their bodies. Why is the book called NOBODY HATES TRUMP MORE THAN TRUMP: AN INTERVENTION, and do you think it’s true?

David: Yes, of course Trump loathes himself. No human being on the planet is less capable of joy or even fulfillment. This is a key connection between himself and his voters. He’s as unhappy as they are, or he’s very good at pretending he is—it’s very difficult to tell, which gives his hyper-performativity its immense frisson. 

Leah: But close to 90% of Republicans voted for Trump. Trump voters were Bush and Reagan voters, and they were Goldwater voters. Are you saying they are all deeply unhappy people and always have been?

David: The key people are the five million people who voted for Obama and who voted for Trump. They are who matter. They are low-income, low-information, disenfranchised, blue-collar voters. They are furious at the varieties of ways in which the world has left them behind. Obama offered them hope. Trump offered them rage. HRC offered them precisely nothing.

Leah: Books about Trump are a dime a dozen these days, and everyone is drowning in tweets and hot takes. What is different about this book?

David: It’s not everybody else’s Trump-bashing book. It offers a tragic take on human nature—Trump’s destructiveness and self-destructiveness echoing with an existentially lost populace. It has leaked off-air Fox News conversations. It’s about a very scary American strain of death wish. It offers a new reading of his psychology and childhood to suggest origins of his anhedonia.It shows the many subcultures which gave rise to him and which now sustain him. It raises the real question whether he’s a genius quasi-punk anti-hero or a near-Asperger’s idiot or neither or both. It’s about the emotional weather of living under Cloud Trump. It’s a manual for beating bullies.

Leah: There’s always been loads of money, charismatic celebrities, and bigoted flamethrowers in American politics, but a person like Trump becoming President never seemed possible until it happened. Or did it?

David: Oh, please. Sonny Bono. Ronald Reagan. Shirley Temple. Jesse Ventura. Jerry Springer. George Murphy. Fred Thompson. Cynthia Nixon. Clint Eastwood. Clay Aiken. Al Franken. Arnold Schwarzenegger. Caligula.

Leah: When did you realize America was screwed up enough to elect Trump? 

David: When, at age 7, I realized being bad was more fun than being good (a more perfect foil than HRC would be impossible to imagine).

Leah: How many of the 63 million Americans who voted for Trump did so because he’s a big, sick joke?

David: A huge number of things we love are big, sick jokes (from WWE to horror movies to the NFL). The method to Trump’s madness is that, in a shame culture, he’s shameless; this gives him enormous appeal and leverage to people who are resentful (as Louis Theroux has pointed out).

Leah: Trump is a needy, unloved, extraordinarily damaged, outer-borough millionaire with a genius for low-brow marketing. In a culture steeped in celebrity worship and with a mass media allergic to serious issues, was the marriage between Trump and his scared, aging, white base inevitable?

David: “Outer-borough” is a tell that you hold yourself above Trump, but the key to iconic celebs (e.g, Jesus, Napoleon, Elvis, Madonna) is that they embody the culture’s contradictions. Trump is a “winner” who acts like a “loser.” He’s a millionaire “schlub.” This allows him to play both ends against the middle. This is mad brilliance or luck or both.  Trump is karmic payback for an America lost to simulacra for at least twenty years; as Andrew O’Hehir says, “Our culture is obsessed with ‘real’ events because we experience hardly any.” Trump pretends to be “real.” It’s black magic.

Leah: What particular talents does Trump have that tap into the American psyche?

David: What such talents does he not have? He has swallowed America whole.

Leah: In this entire disgraceful, scary, embarrassing saga, who is the person you hate the most?

David: Exactly the wrong question. G.K. Chesterton, asked what’s wrong with the world, said, “I am.” If you can’t find in yourself what’s scary about Trump, you have zero chance of figuring him out and/or counteracting him. 

Leah: I fully understand that within myself I can find what is scary about Trump. The spectacle is impossible to turn away from; we’ve all been rubbernecking for 3 years now. In the debates, I laughed at “low-energy Jeb” and “Lil’ Marco,” while simultaneously knowing the whole thing was gross. But I think your answer absolves Trump and his administration of their cruelty. They took babies from their mothers at the border. They won’t stop until poor people don’t have health care. It’s not just PT Barnum giving people a good show. So, let me ask again: whom do you hate the most?

David: The book is the book and my life is my life. In my actual life, I work to bring an end to the oligarchy. Along with everyone else, I yell at the TV and radio and web. In the book, though, I strive to understand the phenomenon. And to understand all is most definitely not to pardon all. That being said, whom do I hate the most? To my surprise, the person who comes to mind is Comey.

Leah: In the book, you mention Will Blythe’s TO HATE LIKE THIS IS TO BE HAPPY FOREVER, a book about the Duke / UNC basketball rivalry. Does Trump vs. liberals feel like a sports event to you? On some level, is checking Twitter every morning and getting outraged fun? If it is, is that white privilege?

David: Love the title but have never read the book. To not view Trump as both deadly serious and a “funny” game-player is to miss the entire point. Of course it’s sport; that’s a huge part of the shtick. “Bread and circuses” means there are circuses. Overreliance on the term “white privilege”: another reason Trump will be re-elected. 

Leah: Is Trump your perfect foil? What about him as subject matter makes him so conducive to your writing style and thought process?

David: ADD. OCD. Logorrhea. Graphomania. Ressentiment. Weariness/wariness re virtue-signaling. Originary woundedness. Vanity. Narcissism. Avariciousness. Lust. All the usual human vices and sins. 

Leah: Should America still be a country? How can you stay in a marriage with 63 million people that voted for a monster? 

David: These are the very questions that got Trump elected and that threaten to get him re-elected. The moment you call Trump a monster, you’ve stopped trying to understand him and the conditions that gave rise to him and why he resonates with so many people. There’s nothing remotely useful about this sort of moral self-congratulation. 

Leah: How do you hope this ends?

David: I’m not in the hope business. I’m in the tragic-news-about-the-human-condition-business. We are a fallen, doomed species. People want apocalypse always. Trump promises to deliver the end or a glimmer of the end.

About David Shields

David Shields is the internationally bestselling author of twenty-two books, including  (named one of the best books of 2010 by more than thirty publications), Bestseller, (finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award), ( Editors’ Choice). The film adaptation of  was released by First Pond Entertainment in 2017.  is forthcoming in 2019. A recipient of Guggenheim and NEA fellowships and a senior contributing editor of Conjunctions, Shields has published essays and stories in the , , , , , , , and . His work has been translated into two dozen languages.

You can follow David Shields on Instagram and Twitter and buy his latest book here.

See Trump like you've never seen Trump before...

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[arabellaflynn]

Monday Mystery: The Disappearance of Louis Le Prince

One crisp fall day, a man named Louis Le Prince paid a visit to his in-laws, Joseph and Sarah Whitley, at their home, an estate named Oakwood Grange. While there, he shot a brief home movie of his family perambulating in their garden. The camera he used was a single-lens model of his own design, using a perforated reel of Edison photographic paper. The year was 1888. The snippet, known as "Roundhay Garden Scene", is believed to be the oldest piece of motion picture film still in existence. Le Prince had discovered a love of photography while still a child, working in the lab of his father's friend Louis-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre. A circuitous route through art school in Paris and post-grad chemistry in Leipzig ultimately took him to England, where he was employed by a firm in Leeds, and ultimately married to the artistically-gifted sister of a colleague, Elizabeth (née Whitley). He continued to tinker with new cameras and new designs through a stint as a representative of the Leeds firm in the US, his return to England, and travels back to his native France. Finally, in 1890, Le Prince had developed what he considered a revolutionary new camera. He spoke excitedly of it during a visit to his brother Albert in Dijon, and of plans to return to the UK to patent the device, and then to the US to promote it. Albert dropped him at the train station in Dijon on September 16, 1890, to catch the train to Paris. Louis Le Prince was never seen again. Most accounts say he was seen "boarding" the Dijon-Paris train, but I'm uncertain whether this just refers to his brother sending him off. No one else admitted to seeing him at the station. When his friends met the train in Paris, he was nowhere to be seen. No one recalled spotting him on board. His luggage was never found. He had simply vanished without a trace. A number of theories have been advanced, ranging from suicide to voluntary disappearance to outright murder. One source claims that he was "asked" to disappear due to « convenances familiale », a circumlocution which they translated as the allegation that Le Prince was homosexual and the family found it embarrassing. No one has ever tendered any supporting evidence for this, nor for the pursuant claim that he moved to Chicago and died there in 1898. Others claim he committed suicide because his business was failing (it wasn't), or because of financial irregularities (none were ever found). The possibility has been raised that his brother, last to see him and the only one to verify he made it to the train station in Dijon, might have killed him, but if so, no one has any idea as to the motive. The most sensationalist theory posits that Thomas Edison had Le Prince murdered, to prevent him from patenting his revolutionary new camera. Edison, for those of you who don't know, was a ruthless asshole. He was noted for running rivals out of business with any means at his disposal, ranging from blackmail to sabotage to just sending large men around the neighborhood to make sure nobody bought any motion picture machines that weren't Edison's. Plenty of people have accused Edison of killing their careers, although to my knowledge nobody has previously accused him of just killing people, full stop. There is an article that claims a grad student found a journal of Edison's that contains what amounts to an admission that he had Le Prince killed, but I doubt the ever-loving fuck out of this thing: I can find no trace of "Alexis Bedford" (the grad student, noted by pronoun as male, supposedly studying chemistry and photography), "Charlene Edmonds" (the librarian who supposedly verified that the journal he found was part of the historical collection), or "Robert E Myre" (the historian that Bedford supposedly took the journal to for verification that it was Edison's). The article alleges that Bedford found the evidence in the "New York library", which is not a thing that exists -- the New York public library system is the largest state library system in the US, and any real article would have noted the branch -- and refers to the school where Bedford was studying as the "University of New York", which isn't a thing either. It appears under the "Opinions"  banner, so presumably it got no fact-checking. Perhaps the most reasonable piece of "new" evidence that has been turned up is a photograph in the archives of the Paris police, discovered in 2003, of a man who drowned in 1890 and is said to strongly resemble Le Prince. Even if it is, that still leaves a great many questions unanswered. Paris is not physically that big; if the Paris police have the photo, that means he must have been drowned somewhere nearby, i.e., probably the Seine. That means Le Prince must have made it to Paris -- why, then, did no one but his brother see him at the station in Dijon, and no one at all spot him on the train itself? He had friends waiting for him at the station; how did they miss him when he disembarked? What happened to his luggage? In 1898, Edison filed suit against the American Mutoscope Company, contending that he (Edison) was the sole inventor of the motion picture process and entitled to all royalties on things pertaining thereto. (Remember: Asshole.) Le Prince's eldest son Adolphe was called as a witness, in hopes that his testimony would prove that Edison was not the sole inventor of movies. Adolphe was not allowed to present his father's cameras to the court as evidence; Edison subsequently won the suit. Links: http://ift.tt/16av0OK http://ift.tt/1McPTCY http://ift.tt/2h1m39H http://ift.tt/1fDHHqL from Blogger http://ift.tt/2jvDm07 via IFTTT -------------------- Enjoy my writing? Consider becoming a Patron, subscribing via Kindle, or just toss a little something in my tip jar. Thanks!

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