#lewis litt

[michaelceraifhewasagirl]

Lewis Litt is a little bitch WHY’D HE HAVE TO FIND OUT ABOUT MIKE

call me a new fan idc BUT I AM BALLS DEEP INTO THIS SERIES, 1/3 OF THE WAY THERE AND LEWIS LITT HAS BEEN GETTING ON MY NERVES SINCE DAY ONE

[kunepie]

I'm so scared for the movie night🙃 My mc was basically a hoe in casa

[racingliners]

.

[crimsonspectre]

Belong

summary: You're Lewis teammate and biggest fan

Tags: LW x gn!OC

You can find this in AO3 too

Five months have passed since you’ve become Lewis’s teammate.

They say you should never meet your idol, but in your case, it’s been smooth sailing. Sure, maybe you’ve had some discussions over trivial legal - mostly - moves in racing, and how to forget the time you proclaimed yourself, in a drunken post maiden victory state, his biggest fan, with big sparkly eyes and one too many details, except for one. But so far, meeting your idol has been like meeting an old friend, someone you can picture from memory.

Time brought along Max’s birthday, and the break before the last three races gave the perfect excuse for an over the top party. You were under the impression that Lewis wouldn’t show up, as he was always somewhere else, thus your outfit choice proved incredibly treacherous when the first thing you saw after entering Max’s penthouse was your teammate’s profile. Perfect profile, by the way.

A moment to recolect, you tell yourself. He won’t notice, this doesn’t have to be a big deal. Shit, not even a deal at all. And it better not be, because he’s coming your way.

“You’re late, rookie”

“You should stop calling me rookie already, it’s been months”

“You’re always a rookie in my books” he answers, laughing. You sit next to him.

“I thought you were traveling” you sip your drink, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“You don’t fancy seeing me here?”

You push your weight agains him for a second before answering “Don’t be dumb. I do prefer you in the track were I can beat your ass, but this is nice for a chance”

“Ha! aren’t you cocky. You’re spending way too much time with me.”

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

As the moon and drinks went on, your worries started to melt onto the air. There was no time to worry about anything in a place like this, with this incredible ambiance, as you were gossiping in a corner with Max. Two weeks apart came with lots of updates on the finest paddock news.

When Max laughs, moving a little, you caught those eyes. The ones immediatelty shifting to other serious matters. Maybe he was watching? Maybe you’re just very drunk.

Excusing yourself to get some air, you go to the backydard. Strange, no one’s here, with such beauty around to appreciate. So much to be overtaken by the memory of his eyes that seems as permanent as…

“Hey” you startle as a voice calls from behind.

“God, Lewis, you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

You move a little as his body ask for space to sit, while laughing it off.

“Are you having a good time?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s nice to have a break like this”

He nods, “For sure it’s nice if you’re the birthday boy special person”

You look genuinely confused, and laugh equally as awkward.

“Oh no, I think you’re getting the wrong idea”

He shifts his tone, and his head tilts a litte. “Am I?”

“Uh… yeah, I mean, Max is my friend” you can feel your face growing hotter by the second. What even is this change of air?

He stands, and as subtle as he arrived, he put his hand on your nape. Just his fingerprints, soft as a feather. You can’t help but shiver.

“That’s fine” he breaks the silence, moving his hand in a pattern.

And it hits you. He saw it, didn’t he? You try to say something, buy the subtle touch apparently put you under a spell, compelled only to look at him.

He keeps tracing your tattoo, the one you promised to get if he won his seventh title, back when you were just his fan, and he was just your idol. A nice, delicate 44.

“That’s fine” he repeats, applying the smallest of pressure on the side of your neck “as long as you remember who you belong to.”

[mads-weasley]

Epiphany Pt. 3: Haunted

Lewis Nixon x Reader

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: hey guys!! i had originally planned for operation market garden to be one chapter, but there were just too many things that i wanted to add, so it will be split up into at least two! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Summary: Things aren't as cut and dry as they seem when Easy jumps into Holland for Operation Market Garden, and (y/n) faces a heartbreaking reality.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: slightly graphic mistreatment of women (eindhoven scene)

SEPTEMBER 13, 1944: ALDBOURNE, ENGLAND

The pub was alive, bustling with half-drunken paratroopers when (y/n) arrived with Skip, Alex, and Don. They were missing their fifth member who they spotted across the bar playing darts with Buck. 

“How much money do ya’ think he’s lost?” Skip asked, snickering as they made their way through the crowd to an empty table. 

(Y/n) grimaced. “As long as he’s not asking me for a loan again, I don’t care. He still owes me $20.”

“Ehh, you’re probably not gonna get that back, (y/n/n), Penkala laughed, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “You should know George well enough by now.”

“Well, the first twenty bucks he gets is mine tonight, boys.”

Finding a booth in the corner, Don, Skip, and (y/n) plopped down while Alex went to get them drinks. They looked around the room and observed some of Bull’s new squad replacements sitting nearby. 

“They don’t look older than twelve,” Skip scoffed, shaking his head.

Don smacked the side of his head, rolling his eyes. “Skip, you don’t look much older than twelve, alright, so ease up.” 

“You’re telling me you don’t even feel a litt-”

“No,” (y/n) interrupted. “I don’t. They’re here the same reason we are.”

Before Skip could argue back, Alex returned with their drinks, and the first thing (y/n) did was gulp hers. To her dismay, Alex had started to ramble about the replacements to Skip, and the pair picked up right where she’d cut him off. With a sigh, she got up and walked over to George, Buck, Toye, and a replacement, who were crowded around the dartboard. They all watched Buck as he lined up a shot.

“Here we go. One shot. Here we go,” he muttered to himself.

When she slid into the space beside George, he smirked with a wink, nodding toward Buck, as if to say, ‘Look at this.’

“Lieutenant,” he began. “You gonna shoot lefty all night?”

Toye and the red-headed replacement’s faces fell, and (y/n) took a sip of her drink to hide her smirk. 

Joe looked between George and Buck in disbelief. “Hey, come on,” He groaned.

“Just curious,” George continued, “‘Cause he’s right-handed.” 

A sly smile grew on Buck’s face as he switched sides and lined up his shot. “George. What would I do without George Luz?”

The group watched as the dart left Buck’s hand and hit the bullseye dead on.

“Boop!”

Collective groans came from Joe and the replacement at George’s antics as he turned to the men. “Goodness, gracious!”

“Two packs, gentlemen,” Compton announced, holding out his hand.

“I know you’ve got them. Pay up.”

Joe looked at (y/n) who was still smirking into her drink. “You gonna let them screw us like that, (y/n)?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t see anything, Joe.”

Rolling his eyes, Toye grumbled as he placed a pack of cigarettes in Buck’s outstretched hand before walking off. The replacement approached (y/n) with a nervous smile, and she had to agree with Skip that he did look twelve, even if he towered over her. 

“Heffron,” he introduced, holding out his hand. “Babe Heffron. Nice to meet you. The guys have told me nothing but great things.”

She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Babe. You’re in Bull’s squad, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Raising her eyebrows, (y/n) snorted. “Ma’am makes me sound like an old woman. Call me (y/n).”

“Yes, ma’a-, I mean, (y/n),” he corrected, his face turning crimson.

Seeing the flash of a familiar silver flask near the door, (y/n) nodded at Babe. “It was nice meeting you, Heffron. You’re in good hands with Bull.”

She found him sitting at a table with Harry Welsh, who looked more tipsy than usual. “(Y/n). Speak of the devil. We wer-”

Nix’s eyes widened, and he kicked Harry discreetly under the table. “You meet the new replacements?” He asked as if Welsh hadn’t spoken.

Raising an eyebrow, she sat in the empty seat beside Lew. “What was that, Lieutenant?”

“Uhh, we were gonna ask you about the replacements,” he replied slowly, glancing at Nix for confirmation.

Though she didn’t understand Harry’s odd behavior, she didn’t push it. “They seem nice. I’ve just met Heffron after George and Buck conned him playing darts.”

Lew took a swig of his flask, throwing an arm on the back of (y/n)’s chair, his fingertips lightly brushing her shoulder. “Bull will take care of them,” he began. “He’s a good sergeant.”

(Y/n) nodded, unsure of her voice at his subtle touch. One touch and she was down for the count. Thinking back to D-Day and the way he held her, heat spread through her. She looked down at the drink in her hand and realized she needed a refill.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get another drink,” she announced, getting up from her seat.

Lew got up, too, grabbing his signature flask. “I’ll come with. Harry, don’t cause too much trouble while we’re gone, alright?”

He rolled his eyes, shooing them away with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah. Go on. I’ll survive.”

The duo made their way for the crowd before leaning against the bar. 

“I thought you only drink VAT-69,” she questioned, motioning to the barkeep for two beers.

Nix faced her, his eyes scanning her face. “My supply is running low, so I’ve gotta cut back until I can get some more.”

The bartender returned with two beers and she gratefully took them, returning to their table with Nix in tow. As soon as they sat down, he placed his arm around her chair once again, and she took a big sip of her drink, knowing she would need it to make it through the night. 

“So, how’s the officer’s life treating you two?” She asked, trying to hide the blush that crept up her neck.

Harry took a deep breath. “Well…”

An hour and a few drinks later, (y/n) was throwing her head back in laughter at something Harry said. Nix just chuckled beside her, knowing she was drunk due to the fact Harry’s comment wasn’t funny at all.

Her head felt as if was stuffed with cotton, and the world was tilted slightly off its axis, but regardless, she was chatting away with the two Lieutenants.

“Ya’know,” she giggled, waving her hands around emphatically. “Kitty’s a lucky gal ‘ta have ya, Har. Outta all-”

Her hand caught a glass and sent it flying, beer spilling across the table. 

“Oh no.”

Lew stood up and gently grasped her elbow, helping her to her feet. “Come on, doll. You’ve had enough.”

“Lewis,” she whined. “I’m not drunk.”

His chuckled. “Really?”

“Uh, ‘yeh.”

“Okay,” he smirked, pointing behind her. “Try to walk to Luz.”

(Y/n) nodded and wobbly took one, two, three steps before tilting to her right, arms flailing. Luckily, Lew was ready and caught her by her waist effortlessly.

“I guess I am drunk,” she murmured into his shoulder. 

Her attempt gained the attention of her squadmates who still sat at the same table from hours earlier. Don and George walked over, faces painted with concern.

“She alright?” Luz asked with a grimace.

“Yeah. She’s just a lightweight,” Nixon smirked, glancing down at the woman in his arms. “I’m gonna take her home.”

Lifting her head off his shoulder, she looked up at him. “Already there,” she whispered to herself.

To her dismay, Don had heard it, and the man’s eyes became saucers as he realized what she meant. Everything clicked in his head.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I’ll get someone to check on her in the morning.”

With a curt nod, Nix led her out of the pub and was hit with a wave of sharp, chilly air that had her huddling closer to him. He had a secure hand around her waist, keeping her upright as they walked down the cobblestone streets of Aldbourne. 

“You alright down there?” He asked, squeezing her hip gently.

(Y/n) basked in his warmth. “I like it when you hold me.”

The man got choked up on his saliva and coughed a few times at her confession.

“Well,” he began slowly, staring down at her, the moonlight illuminating her face. “I like to hold you.”

“Why?”

A smile formed on his lips. “You can ask me when you’re sober, but I doubt you’ll remember any of this, sweetheart.”

She nodded once against his shoulder as they turned onto her street. Aldbourne was a quiet town, especially on a Sunday night. It was easy for one to find themselves getting lost in their thoughts. The soft glow from windows reflecting off the pavement felt like home, even if they were thousands of miles away from theirs.

In different circumstances, Lew could envision him and (y/n) on their way home from a night dancing or movie picture, giggling as young couples do, oblivious to the horrors of the world. But that wasn’t reality. They’d seen the horrors firsthand, and he envied the people who lived and loved in times of peace.

A soft voice broke him from his thoughts. “Thanks.”

Looking up and realizing they’d arrived at her billet, he reluctantly let go of her. He felt the loss of her warmth and reached out to take her hand. “Drink some water, alright? I can’t have you being grumpy tomorrow because you’re hungover.”

She smiled blearily, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for ev’rythin, Lew.”

In a moment of weakness, he sighed and tugged her closer. As Lew’s strong arms wrapped gently around (y/n)’s frame, he felt her heart beating through her chest, as if it were trying to send him a message. The scent of her hair, a delicate mix of her shampoo, and the evening breeze intoxicated his senses. All he could think about was the woman in his arms. Standing there in the warm embrace of a quiet, moonlit night, it was as if the war wasn’t raging around the world. But just as quickly as it had begun, the hug came to an end. They pulled away, eyes meeting for a fleeting moment as if searching for answers in each other’s gaze.

“G’nigh,” she giggled, walking towards her door with unsteady steps.

“Night, sweetheart,”

Once the door had closed and he heard the familiar click of the lock, he backed up onto the street shaking his head with a bashful smile.

“I’m in trouble,” he chuckled, making his way back to the bar.

September 14, 1944: ALDBOURNE, ENGLAND

(Y/n) awoke with a groan, hearing dull raps from the front door beneath her. Each knock was like a drum banging inside her skull as she made her way down the stairs. The family she was staying with was on a weekend vacation, and she was thankful their children wouldn’t see her so hungover.

(Y/n) opened the door, squinting at the bright sunlight. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” a kind voice replied. Lip. 

Her eyes widened. “Sorry, Car, I didn’t realize it was you.”

“It’s alright,” he began softly. “You weren’t at the pub last night, so I wanted to let you know we’re moving out again.”

Already?.

“Okay. Thanks, Lip,” (y/n) nodded, eyes sinking to the floor as she closed the door.

Great.

September 17, 1944: Operation Market Garden

As Easy Company sat in ditches along the road to Eindhoven, an eerie silence hung in the air. Sure, Allied intelligence suspected the Krauts in the country were mostly old men and kids, but the paratroopers were on their toes, ready for whatever would come next.

(Y/n) was sandwiched between George and Skip, who were grumbling back and forth about a failed darts game the night before. 

“Will you two shut up, please?” She laughed softly. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

George smirked, adjusting his helmet. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

A squadron of Allied aircraft roared overhead, and soon after, they approached the town. A window opened, and (y/n) motioned for everyone to get down as she crouched beside a fence. The person pulled out a long orange banner and tied it around the window.

“Okay, hold your fire,” Bull appeared behind them, cigar hanging from his lips.

Staring at the town above her M-1 sight, a deep pang of worry shot through her stomach. Something didn’t feel right.

The paratroopers couldn’t believe their eyes as the people of Eindhoven celebrated their liberation from the German occupation. Bright orange flags flew from every window, and (y/n) found herself smiling at the pure joy that oozed from the town. 

(Y/n) and George had gotten separated from the rest of their squad in the crowd as they dodged kisses from the locals. Well, (y/n) dodged their kisses. After a few girls tried to land a smooch on her lips, she removed her helmet, showing she was a woman. Soon the town's men caught on and were trying to do the same. 

She tried to push through the crowd as quickly as possible staving off any attempts from them. Looking behind her, she groaned at the empty spot where George had been. “George,” she called, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Luz! Come on!”

A few seconds later, he appeared to her right, fresh red lipstick smeared across his lips that were quirked into a wide grin.

“Gosh, (y/n). Can’t a guy have some fun?” He joked, wiping his mouth with his hand.

Turning around, she rolled her eyes and made her way through an opening in the crowd only to be pulled to the side by her arm. “Hey!”

A familiar Philly accent filled her ears. “Come get in this picture, (y/n)!”

Babe pulled her through the crowd, and George followed, kissing as many girls as he could along the way. 

“There they are!” Chuck yelled, throwing his arm around a blonde.

George and Babe stood behind a few kids wearing orange hats and waving flags, all smiling from ear to ear. A wide smile grew on (y/n)’s face as she knelt beside the kids, placing her helmet on the little girl's head beside her. The helmet tipped down, covering the girl’s face except for her crooked, snaggle-toothed smile. (Y/n) quickly fixed it for her, and to her surprise, the little girl threw herself in the woman’s arms. Fighting off tears, she sniffled and hugged the girl back before pointing to the camera.

“Smile, everybody!” (Y/n) announced.

The picture was taken with a click, and (y/n)’s eyes wandered to the left of the cameraman.

She froze, her face falling. Time slowed as she watched the scene unfold before her. A local woman with long, flowing chestnut hair and a confident stride approached Lew. (Y/n) squinted to get a better look, her heart pounding. She watched in disbelief as the stranger reached up and placed a hand on Lew’s cheek, drawing him closer. The world around (y/n) seemed to blur as the stranger’s lips met Lew’s, and they kissed, and he didn't pull away.

Time seemed to stand still for (y/n). She couldn’t comprehend what she was witnessing. Her mind raced with questions. 

Why was Lew kissing her? 

Her hands clenched into fists, and tears welled up in her eyes. (Y/n) felt like a statue, unable to move or speak as the painful scene played out before her. She knew she had no right to be jealous, but not so deep down, she wished it were her instead. Her heart ached, and her stomach churned with anger, jealousy, and sadness.

George tapped her shoulder, his brows furrowed. “(Y/l/n)? You alright?”

Following her line of sight, he found what she was fixated on and softly sighed.

“He’s an idiot, (y/n/n). Come on,” he murmured, hoisting her up by her arm.

She stood and blinked away angry tears that filled her vision. She knew she had no right to be jealous, but not so deep down, she wished it were her.

A small voice below her broke her train of thought. “Dank,” the little girl nodded, holding out (y/n)’s helmet. She forced a smile and took it from the girl. 

George tugged her arm softly, pulling her in the opposite direction of Nix. She blindly followed in a haze, her mind muddied with hurtful thoughts. Townsfolk grabbed at her jacket as she and George made their way to the main town square where 2nd platoon was meeting. 

She was snapped out of her mind by the sound of screams. Her head moved on a swivel trying to find the sound’s source. Spotting a circle of citizens up ahead, she pushed past George quickly, squeezing her way through a few men to see inside the circle.

Before her, half-naked women were on their knees, crying as their hair was roughly shaved, leaving them with blood streaking down their necks and faces. Two Dutch resistance fighters bumped past (y/n) with another petrified woman in their arms. They threw her down and began to rip the clothes off her body. (Y/n)’s eyes narrowed as a burning sensation filled her chest. 

“Hey!” She cried, shoving one of them away from the woman. “That’s enough!”

The man recovered swiftly, but (y/n) didn’t give up. Unable to bend her to his will, he resorted to dirty tactics, shoving her forcefully and causing her to stumble and fall to the hard cobblestone street with a thud. 

“Stomme meid,” he spat.

Stupid girl. 

Her unclasped helmet skidded a few feet away as her head came in contact with the road. The impact knocked the wind out of her, leaving her momentarily gasping for breath. 

For a few seconds, everyone’s eyes were on the (y/n), then all hell let loose. Easy’s men were trying to get to her with enraged shouts but were unable to get through the crowd. With great effort, (y/n) pushed herself up off the ground, her face flushed but her spirit unbroken. She looked the man squarely in the eyes, refusing to show fear despite the pain in her chest. 

The man leered down at her with a smirk as he switched to heavily accentuated English. “Maybe we should teach you a less-”

(Y/n) lost all self-control as her arm reeled back ready to swing, but someone grabbed it tightly and tried to pull her away from the man. Seeing a flash of dark hair, she knew it was him, and her fury only grew. (Y/n) resisted, her heart pounding with adrenaline.

“No, Nix!” She protested, her voice filling with fiery determination. She wriggled free from his grasp for a moment, her eyes still locked onto the resistance fighters. “Let go of me! They can’t do this! We can’t let them do this!”

He stepped in front of (y/n), blocking her view of the confrontation, and looked deeply into her eyes. “(Y/n), I know, all right? I wish we could, but we can’t do anything about it.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, she tried to push past him only to hear a tone he had never used with her before.

“Stop! That’s an order, (y/l/n),” he gritted, his heart squeezing in his chest at the words.

(Y/n) stared at the Officer in disbelief. 

How dare he not help these poor women?

Tears filled her eyes for the second time that day as she took one more look at the poor woman on the ground. “I’m sorry,” she whispered before shoving her way back through the crowd.

Lew’s eyes followed her until she disappeared into the mob. Sighing, he ran a hand down his face.

What a difference a few days can bring.

One of the men behind him spoke. “She’s a lively one, no?”

“Shut it,” Nix snapped, scooping (y/n)’s discarded helmet off the street.

When he found Dick, Harry, and Buck, he handed the helmet to her platoon leader. “It’s (y/n)’s.”

Buck took it with a nod as the four officers watched the British Armored Division come rumbling down the street. 

It was going to be a long operation.

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[heartofhubris-a]

Is that never gunna be a partner try hard Lewis Litt

[sixminutestoriesblog]

blue men of Minch

The world is full of secret beings tradition has packed into almost every hidden corner and shadow. Wherever man has gone, we've brought our mirror realms and watchers in the dark with us. With scientific advances and steel and smog replacing the green grottoes and deep silences of the woods though, they've faded, slipping away from our consciousness as we filled it with TV sitcoms and internet cats. There's no room in our age of the fears of climate change for capricious elemental beings or for sea monsters over the roar of our whale hunting boats. Our grandmother's grandmother's folklore is far from us.

Most days.

On June 28, 2023, sitting on the sand at Eoropie Beach on the Isle of Lewis, a mother watching her family play in the water felt what she called a premonition.

"I was at the beach with my family and they were jumping in and out of the water – I've never felt uneasy and am in the water a lot, but I kept telling them to get out." [Story by Talker News • Yesterday 12:12 PM]

Everyone knows the capriciousness of the sea and, as the US's own Gulf Coast has recently proved, currents can snatch a person away without any warning. A mother of three children has a right to feel unsettled. It was what she did next that makes this a story.

She took pictures of the waves washing up on the shore.

"I felt uneasy about them being in there. I was taking loads of pictures but it wasn’t until I got home and looked through them that one picture stood out."

The picture in question was this one.

I - honestly see nothing. Or rather, what amazes me about the picture is how empty the beach is. I can't remember the last time I managed to find a beach that wasn't awash with people and it looks to me as if she had this stretch of beach entirely to herself, a mystery all of its own. For some reason though, she looked closer.

Stephanie Cranston thinks she might have caught a blue man of Minch on film.

“The way the sea is in that picture, you can see what looks like a figure coming out of the water.

My hair stood on end, it was pretty creepy – I've never seen anything like it before.

I don’t really believe in any stuff like that but I caught that in the picture and thought this is absolutely crazy.

The Hebrides has got myths about the blue men of the Munch – looking back at the picture it’s quite creepy.

I think if it is what I think it is, it’s the only one that’s ever been caught on camera.”

Let's roll this back a bit for those of us who aren't native enough to the area to know what's going on.

The blue men of Minch are basically storm kelpies. They haunt the waters of the area, looking to drag sailors and sometimes even their ships down to a watery grave in the darkness below the waves. When the weather is clear and the water is calm, the blue men sleep, sometimes drifting up to float on the surface, more often retreating to their underwater caves. When the weather is stormy however they rise to the surface and ride the cresting, wild waves, reveling in the chaos and looking for humans to drown. Woe then to any sailor who finds himself still caught out in the waters away from the safety of the shore. All hope isn't lost however. Sometimes, a clever and quick tongue can get you out of your approaching doom. Legend has it that, like the Mari Lwyd of Wales, the leader of the blue men will challenge a ship's captain to a poetry slam. Two lines a piece and if the captain can not only keep up but get in the last word of the poem, the blue men will let him and his ship go free. If he loses however, they will take their long arms and shake his ship to pieces, dragging anyone onboard to their deaths.

One of the odd things about the blue men is that they stick to a very small section of the coast. The Minch is a strait of water that separates the mainland of Scotland from a series of islands known as the Outer Hebrides or the Western Isles. It's only about 70 miles or 110km in length and can narrow down to as little as 14 miles or 23km across in some places. In the wideness of the world's oceans, that's not much. It's also believed to be the site of the biggest meteorite to ever hit the British Isles. The blue men are said to live here, and only here. Beyond those narrow shores, they're practically unknown.

The blue men are described as - well - blue. Sometimes its their caps that are described as blue and they themselves are grey faced. They skim either just on the surface or just under it when they swim, sometimes rising up as high as their waist in the water as they move like a dolphin, diving like dolphins too. They're human in appearance and size and even though they're described as kelpie I haven't found any references to them changing size or shape, never appearing as anything but regular sized human men in the water. There's no mention of women.

Clever poetry could appease them and like most ocean spirits, they could be bribed into bringing good fishing and weather. A candle lit on the shore at Halloween honored them and ale could be poured out into the wavebreak in the hopes that they would leave seaweed on the shore the village could use for fertilizer. Like most ocean spirits though they were the personification of the sea itself and just as capricious in mood and action.

The origin of the blue men might come from several points back in the island's history. There is speculation that the 'swimming above the water up to their waist' might have started with blue painted or tattooed Picts in low boats speeding along the strait, half hidden by the waves. Another explanation might be the North African slaves the Vikings brought with them when they wintered nearby, with both blue clothed Moors and the 'blue men of the desert' Tuareg people being suggested. Whatever the base of the legend was, it blended well with the idea of dangerous sea spirits along the coast and created the very unique blue men of Minch.

[mountttmase]

Just imagine you and Mason don‘t live together so you always stay over at his for a few days. So you were coming on the weekend for his game and then staying a week because Mase has a litte bit free time. And then you do a games night with him, Lewis and his boyfriend. And you have so much fun and enjoy it so much. And Mase is just so happy that he has his favourite people around him. Everytime he looks at you he can’t believe how lucky he is that you are with him, support him and that you get along so well with his family and friends.

I love this 🥺

And you keep catching him looking at you softly but it’s just hitting him how much he loves you and how lucky he is 😌

[alltheselights]

To continue on the previous anon. I entered the fandom last fall, I absolutely adore him as a person and the music he makes. I love fitf, I’ll blast that record full volume any moment of the day. I want to see it live, I want to see him succeed. But, I am getting exhausted already of the drama and of the ways his things are dealt with? I’m really looking at the Niall fans enjoying themselves, no lama no drama etc etc. And I can’t help ask, in 2023, why it’s gotta be like this?

Even if he’s dealing with whatever it is that led to this cancellation, if he’s trying to fix it or whatnot, he could at least say so? Like just tell us you’re dealing with some shit, trying to fix new dates to be there or whatever and that you’ll brb. What’s the matter? This kind of vague posting and odd silence around the matter just raises more questions.

I feel he ought to engage with fans a litte more in general, it’s a smart way to do promo and hype up the crowd. It costs him a minute or two of his week to post a short tweet/video/pic of what’s up. Niall’s killin’ it on tiktok/insta, Lewis is beyond amazing. I know H and L both have this brand of being off socials and kind of aloof but I’m not sure if it’s working in Louis favour…

Sorry for the delayed response, bub! Yeah, I really wish that Louis had handled things differently and I was really disappointed. I will say though that the fact that he's been lurking on social media but not saying anything over the last few days (he's been liking things on Twitter and Instagram) suggests to me that he has been lurking, which means he's seen the backlash from fans. And I hope that he's taken that to heart and will act differently going forward.

I don't see him getting rid of his useless team, but it'd be nice if he makes more of an effort to hold them accountable. Touring seems to be the most important thing to him and his team's lack of professionalism and competence in planning and executing the tour should be a massive problem for him. Also, their refusal to work to expand his fanbase should also worry him if he wants to continue touring worldwide. It's expensive to tour places in a lot of the places around the world that he wants to go and for him to do it, he's going to need to start making sure that his team is planning properly, promoting the tour properly, and both maintaining and growing his fanbase. It's amazing that he wants to tour places that most artists don't tour, but he really needs to realize that he and his team need to start putting in work if that's going to be possible for him long-term.

I'd really love for him to wait a few months and then announce tour dates early next year in Asia and Latin America. I'd like for it to be properly planned and announced. I'd like for those fans to be reassured that it will happen. I'd like for the ticket sales to be organized and for there to be verified pre-sale so the tickets aren't being plucked up by scalpers. I want them to go with smaller venues with the option to move to larger venues or to add dates so the shows are selling out early, which will also be reassuring to fans. I want the dates to be properly promoted. This is probably a dream that won't be realized, but those fans really deserve it.

[russilton]

I'm 99 % convinced it was Jenson, absolutely fits him. & it's not quite psycho enough for Nando. Although, yeah, Nico... maybe, just for how Lewis says "to piss me off"

Anyway, does Geoge even know how lucky he is? Also. Lewis' "you litte shit" smile while George is "complaining", they're so funny. I bet this was the first time he had George commenting on this, by the look on his face 😂 Dorks. I love George dishing sm

I think it’s petty enough for nando tho, bc for it to be something done just to piss him off, it implies Lewis asked that person to stop and they chose not to. Which I think jense GENERALLY probably wouldn’t. Nico idk, I mostly don’t think about Nico, but Alonso did the most insanely asshole shit BECAUSE it annoys other people, so I feel like it’s more likely to be him, bc when asked to stop he would make a massive stink about not being told what to do.

I bet George commented on it once, Lewis asked him if he wanted him to stop, and George immediately said no, cause he’s a fuckin nerd like that. Especially since George had Carmen at a lot of races, and she would have asked Lewis to stop if it bothered him. He probably misses it during the off season, it’s their routine.

[libelula202]

Gods I love Lewis Litt.

You just got Litt up!!

[speculativism]

Sometimes there are books I've really enjoyed and which nobody else ever seems to mention (subjective perception).

Here's some of them:

Behold the Man - Michael Moorcock

Breakfast in the Ruins - Michael Moorcock

Barefoot in the Head - Brian Aldiss

Beatniks - Toby Litt

Adventures in Capitalism - Toby Litt

The Screwtape Letters - C. S. Lewis

The Zoot Suit Murders - Thomas Sanchez

The Man Who was Thursday - G. K. Chesterton

Chrome Yellow - Aldous Huxley

The Beautiful and Damned - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Barbary Shore - Norman Mailer

The Sandman - Miles Gibson

The Hot Jazz Trio - William Kotzwinkle

The Unicorn Girl - Michael Kurland

The Exploits of the Incomparable Mulla Nasrudin - Idries Shah

The Guizer: A Book of Fools - Alan Garner

Cosmicomics - Italo Calvino

The Periodic Table - Primo Levi

Foucault's Pendulum - Umberto Eco

The Fool: his Social and Literary History - Enid Welsford

[multitudecontainer420]

some came running, kiss me stupid, seven year itch, witness for the prosecution, ace in the hole, bells are ringing, bad & the beautiful, the cobweb, harvey girls, the band wagon, undercurrent, brigadoon, cabin in the sky, till the clouds, ziegfeld follies, ziegfeld girl, on a clear day, yentl, my sister eileen, fashions of 1934, a free soul, sirk, lubitsch, 3 women, faerie tale theater, storyteller, dreamchild, hotel ozone, boy & dog, lost weekend, quiet earth, road games, duel, the car, death race, turkey shoot, dementia, the terror, little shop, hg lewis, final progamme, punishment park, two lane blacktop, vanushing point, figures in a landscape, boom, go between, secret cereminy, virginia woolf, suddenly last summer, umezu, rampo, beast from haunted cave, night tide, black lagoon, dogs in space, breaking glass, m tezuka, sakuran, picnic, swallowtail butterfly, memories of matsuko, im a cyborg, astaire, a miller, k grayson, dolores gray, telegraph hill, pal joey, busby esther, tourneur, cukor, the blue bird, borzage, ulmer, w castle, invisible man, litte shop, the terror, dementia, bedazzled, bed sitting room, casino royale, modesty blaise, bava, magic christian, sheila, myra breckin, sextette, demy, w klein, anna, les idoles, les poneyttes, georgy girl, beat girl, motorcycle, sister george, skidoo, just a gigolo, russian sf, ikarie, margheriti, queen of earth, field in, alch wedding, satans claw, naschy, frightmare, redemption, metzger, cronen, barker, loved ones, the woman, martyrs, x, final girls, ghostwatch, blair witch 2, raw, thelma, shiva baby, clue, kahn, bogdo, mafu, borden, breaking the, lovecrimes, fassbinder, jarman, russell, waters, drop dead gorgeous, debs, bring it on, roeg. barry lyndon, yorgos, greenaway , citizen dog, wayward cloud, boommee, the boys in the band, invisible waves, magic, 9 to 5, the trouble with harry, postcards from the edge, steel magnolias, the battle of mary kay, best little whorehouse, stick it, jawbreaker, death becomes her, hag horror, lang, welles, superman, popeye, in dreams, images, cotton club, de palma, pennies from heaven, into the woods, sweeney todd, devils backbone, they shoot horses, bloody mama, scorcese, dassin, ossie davis, crooklyn, cleopatra jones, book of numbers, night train murders, last house on dead end, spider baby, streets of fire, wizards, point blank, dirty mary, peckinpah

[ulkaralakbarova]

For decades, next-door neighbors and former friends John and Max have feuded, trading insults and wicked pranks. When an attractive widow moves in nearby, their bad blood erupts into a high-stakes rivalry full of naughty jokes and adolescent hijinks. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: John Gustafson: Jack Lemmon Max Goldman: Walter Matthau Ariel Truax: Ann-Margret Grandpa Gustafson: Burgess Meredith Melanie: Daryl Hannah Jacob Goldman: Kevin Pollak Chuck: Ossie Davis Snyder: Buck Henry Mike: Christopher McDonald Moving Man: John Carroll Lynch Weatherman: Steve Cochran Pharmacist: Joe Howard Nurse: Isabell O’Connor Fisherman: Charles Brin Fisherman: Oliver Osterberg Film Crew: Director: Donald Petrie Original Music Composer: Alan Silvestri Producer: Richard C. Berman Editor: Bonnie Koehler Director of Photography: Johnny E. Jensen Art Direction: Mark Haack Special Effects Coordinator: Peter Albiez Chief Lighting Technician: Patrick Marshall Key Costumer: Trina Mrnak Location Manager: Cat Thompson Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Rick Hart Foley: Ellen Heuer Dialogue Editor: Vic Radulich Special Effects Supervisor: Greg C. Jensen Musician: Tom Boyd Associate Producer: Kathy Sarreal Casting: Sharon Howard-Field Second Assistant Director: Molly Muir Leadman: Chris Gibbin Boom Operator: Mark Steinbeck Dialogue Editor: Mike Szakmeister Stunts: Bill McIntosh First Assistant Camera: Jimmy E. Jensen Costume Supervisor: Keith G. Lewis Music Editor: Andrew Silver Production Accountant: Kim Bodner Administration: Peter L. Mullin Costume Design: Lisa Jensen Dialogue Editor: Christopher Assells ADR Editor: Linda Folk Additional Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Kim Waugh Stunts: Spiro Razatos Title Designer: Wayne Fitzgerald First Assistant Director: Douglas E. Wise Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Tom E. Dahl Second Unit: Rosalie Seifert Orchestrator: William Ross Administration: Gregory J. Niska Set Decoration: Clay A. Griffith Makeup Artist: Linda Melazzo First Assistant Director: Randy Suhr Foley: Kevin Bartnof ADR Supervisor: Jessica Gallavan Foley Editor: Eric Gotthelf Sound Recordist: David Behle Best Boy Electrician: Hugh Langtry Assistant Editor: Trudy Yee Construction Foreman: Blaine Marcou Special Effects: Shelly Hawkos Administration: Tom Sann Hairstylist: Linda Rizzuto Key Makeup Artist: Rick Sharp Assistant Property Master: Jerry Swift Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Robert J. Litt Stunt Coordinator: Ernie F. Orsatti Chief Lighting Technician: Pat Blymyer Scoring Mixer: Dennis S. Sands Production Accountant: Susan Montgomery Executive Producer: Dan Kolsrud Property Master: Jim Zemansky Stunts: Ray Lykins First Assistant Camera: Christopher M. Fisher Unit Publicist: Michael Singer Associate Producer: Darlene K. Chan Researcher: Aryn Chapman Sound Effects Editor: Randy Kelley Supervising Sound Effects Editor: Mark P. Stoeckinger Still Photographer: Ron Phillips Construction Coordinator: Douglas Dick Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Wayne Heitman Foley Editor: Patrick N. Sellers First Assistant Editor: Adam C. Frank Color Timer: Dale E. Grahn Supervising Music Editor: Kenneth Karman Dialogue Editor: Chris Hogan Camera Operator: Dick Colean Assistant Costume Designer: Elizabeth Shelton Location Manager: Dave Halls ADR & Dubbing: Thomas J. O’Connell Key Grip: Richard Moran Key Costumer: Hala Bahmet Administration: Lisa D. Menke Hairstylist: Linda De Andrea Assistant Art Director: Jack E. Pelissier Jr. Assistant Sound Editor: Cybele O’Brien Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Elliot Tyson Assistant Sound Editor: Victor Ray Ennis Production Sound Mixer: Russell C. Fager Rigging Gaffer: Tim Marshall Negative Cutter: Donah Bassett Script Supervisor: Susan Bierbaum ADR & Dubbing: Rick Canelli Special Effects: Keane Bonath Associate Editor: Steve Schoenberg Production Design: David Chapman Producer: John Davis Writer: Mark Steven Johnson Movie Reviews: John Chard: Do me a favour. Put your lip over your head… and swallow. Grumpy Old Men is directed by Donald Petrie and written by Mark Steven Johnson. It stars Walter Matthau, Jack Lemmon, Ann-Margret, Kevin Polla...

[ondessiderales]

La matrice

« Matrix (The Matrix), ou La Matrice au Québec, est un film de science-fiction australo-américain écrit et réalisé par les Wachowski et sorti en 1999.

Il dépeint un futur dystopique dans lequel la réalité perçue par la plupart des humains est une simulation virtuelle en se connectant à la « Matrice », créée par des machines douées d'intelligence, afin d'asservir les êtres humains, à leur insu, et de se servir de la chaleur et de l'activité électrique de leur corps comme source d'énergie. Le programmeur informatique Neo apprend cette vérité et rejoint une rébellion.

Le film est classé dans la catégorie cyberpunk, un sous-genre de la science-fiction, comprenant Ghost in the Shell, qui a inspiré des cinéastes tels que les Wachowski. Il est parfois qualifié de « cyberfilm ».

Les exégètes y voient des références à des concepts et œuvres philosophiques et religieuses, en particulier à l'allégorie de la caverne de Platon, à Simulacres et simulation de Jean Baudrillard voire aux Aventures d'Alice au pays des merveilles de Lewis Carroll.

D'autres y ont vu une « métaphore particulièrement adaptée à toutes les thèses affirmant que la réalité est cachée ».

L'idée de ce qui est réel et de ce qui ne l'est pas, l'intelligence artificielle qui peut remplacer l'homme, le combat pour la liberté sont des thèmes forts et présents dans le film. »

« Le judo (柔道, jūdō, litt. « voie de la souplesse ») est un art martial, créé au Japon en 1882 par Jigorō Kanō en tant que pédagogie physique, mentale et morale. Par rapport au Kobudō, ou « voie martiale traditionnelle », le judo est ce qu'on appelle un shin budō, c'est-à-dire une « voie martiale moderne », dont une branche a évolué en sport de combat puis en sport olympique à l'occasion des Jeux olympiques de Tokyo de 1964.

Détenant, à l'âge de 21 ans, trois densho de maître d'arts martiaux (équivalents des menkyo, ou autorisations de délivrer l'enseignement), Jigorō Kanō adopta sa propre méthode, à laquelle il donna le nom de « jūdō kodōkan ». En 1920, il définit la philosophie de son art par deux maximes : « Seiryoku zenyo », la « bonne utilisation de l'énergie », et « Jita kyoei », « entraide et prospérité mutuelles ».

Kanō écarta toute technique dangereuse des anciennes écoles d'arts martiaux qu'il avait étudiées afin de faire du judo un système éducatif, à usage d'activité physique et morale, pour la jeunesse de son pays. Il transforma une méthode de combat à mains nues guerrière et brutale (aujourd'hui maladroitement désignée par l'appellation ju-jitsu3) en un art où prédominent l'éthique et la recherche de la maîtrise de soi, dans le but de développer sa personnalité ainsi qu'un état d'esprit constructif et non violent.

Le karaté (空手道, karate-dō) : En japonais, le kanji kara (空) signifie le « vide », plus précisément la « vacuité » au sens bouddhique du terme ; té (手) est la main et, par extension, la technique avec laquelle on la réalise. Dō (道) signifiant « voie », karate-dō peut être traduit par « la voie de la main vide » ou « la voie de la main et du vide », compris dans le sens « la voie de la vacuité (au sens bouddhique/zen), réalisée par la main (les techniques) » ou dans le sens « combat à mains nues », les différentes interprétations ne s'excluant pas mutuellement.

Le kung-fu est en Occident le nom généralement donné aux arts martiaux chinois externes comme internes, bien que l'on utilise rarement ce terme pour désigner le tai-chi-chuan.

Ce terme, transcription de 功夫 (gung1fu1 en jyutping cantonais, gōngfu en mandarin) a été introduit en Europe dans les années 1970 pour désigner les films chinois d'arts martiaux. C'est la lecture cantonaise de ce mot, Hong Kong ayant été la source majeure de films chinois dans ces années-là. Les termes « kung 功 » et « fu 夫 » traduits littéralement et séparément ont une tout autre signification que « arts martiaux » chinois :

Kung désigne la « maîtrise », le « perfectionnement », la « possession d'un métier » ou une action en laquelle beaucoup de temps a été consacré (coup utilisant nominatif granitique). Le terme est à rapprocher d'un point de vue sémantique de la notion d'artisan tel qu'il était usité en Europe au XIXe siècle : homme de métier qui par un apprentissage auprès d'un maître acquérait cultures, techniques et savoir-faire.

Fu désigne les techniques en tant que contenu, soit l'énergie qui a été investie dans l'acquisition des techniques les plus efficaces pour une possibilité accrue de fluidité.

On peut ainsi dire de quelqu'un qu'il possède le kung fu en gastronomie, le kung fu en peinture, le kung fu en musique ou le kung fu en informatique. »

[whiskerknittles]

My darkest cable tv secret is that I’m a Donna Paulson X Lewis Litt truther