#louis initiating kisses my beloved....

[lizardkingeliot]

And with the two dead priests in his purview, the accused raised up his hands and took your face in them with a kiss of acceptance.

[heliza24]

Chapter 5 of Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath, nor clean the blood is finally up!

Featuring debates about art and vampirism, the delicious in between of liminal spaces, and old Daniel re-embracing how much he likes submitting to Armand during sex (and Armand remembering how much he likes lightly torturing Daniel).

Here’s an excerpt that captures some of the trust they’re building in each other again. And also my own headcanon about Armand’s eye color:

Ah , Daniel thought. Back to the book. “You don’t get to be the judge of that. The readers, well, they’ll have their own opinion, which will probably be different than yours or mine.”

“And what is yours?” Armand asked. There was something achingly vulnerable in his voice.

Daniel shrugged. “You’re a monster, and I’m bringing you home to New York. You tried to kill me once, but I want you close to me now. I want to know where this thing between us goes. And I want to write about you. It’s how I process everything, you remember that. I want to figure out if I can capture you. The real you.”

Armand’s eyes deepened to a warm brown. Daniel had noticed fairly early on in the interview that Armand’s eyes shifted color with his mood. They used to lighten frequently when he was describing his early love with Louis, and Daniel had initially assumed that this brighter orange color was associated with happiness for him. But over the last few days he had seen more and more of this darker color, always in the moments where it felt like he and Armand were most closely connected. Maybe orange was reserved for Louis, and brown for Daniel. Or maybe the brightness when Armand talked about first meeting Louis in Paris was performative, like the rest of their relationship, and the darkness was a less calculated reaction. Daniel liked knowing that he could read Armand like this, liked knowing that there was a color of Armand’s eyes that no one brought out but him.

“Alright, beloved,” Armand said. “Tear me apart, Remake me in your image”

“That’s not what I–” Daniel tried to protest.

“I trust you,” Armand interrupted.

And then he kissed Daniel again.

[shark-myths]

You made a post a while back recommending being a lady with another lady tattooed somewhere on your body, but I think tattoos are cool in general so if you want to give a run-down of all your tats I would gladly listen :)

*cracks knuckles* HERE WE GO! in no particular order whatsoever...

medusa: the initial tattoo in question! i have a badass naked medusa holding the severed head of perseus on my leg, people glare at me in grocery stores, it’s GREAT, one of my bestest friends & ink daddy @alienfuckeronmain put her on me and it was every bit as magical as it sounds.

girl out boy: in the same weekend the same lovely aforementioned, phoenix tattooed a strawberry vulva with a cool knife and the words GIRL OUT BOY on my shoulder.

tasj portrait: i have the most perfect portrait of my beloved cat, who i had for nearly 17 years and who died this january. it captures her exact essence, and the exact color of her always-glaring eyes. it’s on my forearm and i talk to it a lot. i have also been known to kiss it?

poppies & oak leaves: one of my most beautiful tattoos, this one was about giving up control. I didn’t see it or know almost anything about it until i sat down with my trusted tattoo artist and he put the stencil on me. it’s beautiful and on my collarbone, and i didn’t realize until the end of the tattoo that he’d been leaning on my boob the whole time and never once made me feel creeped out or gross--it was just a body part and he didn’t make it seem any other way--which i am so so grateful for, especially as a bunch of assaults by tattoo artists in my city are coming to light this week. 

harry potter page stars: jk rowling made these taste bad. they’re on the front of my right shoulder.

stay fresh: a very beautiful silly tat in the handwriting of my most important ex, which says ‘stay fresh’ and for which i offer no explanation. it’s on my ankle

pirate ship: on my thigh, my post painful tattoo to date, a beautiful color portrait of an album cover from a band that was once my favorite, featuring a pirate ship, and a banner that reads “I AM BECOMING” because i think that’s what we’re all doing, and i hope to never stop

crystal ball: on my wrist, the crystal ball emoji in honor of the MANIA build-up. it says FOB in the base and ‘too much, not enough’ around it

these dumb nordic runes on my wrists i’ve had since i was 18

a phoenix on my shoulder blade, taken from one of king arthur’s shields and also because i really love x-men. i got it on my 18th birthday

astronaut: a really gorgeous piece from Angie Mueth of St Louis, the same extremely talented lady who did my cat portrait, is an astronaut on my upper arm floating through space. it’s inspired by the ezra furman song ordinary life, and there’s a banner that reads “you’re allowed to do anything you’ve gotta do.”

moth: i always forget this one! because i can’t see it and it’s unfinished, i’ve had it for a decade and it will probably always be unfinished. it started because of my obsession with a don marquis poem about a moth and a flame. it’s on my ribcage and kind of looks like an ice cream cone, and some jerky guy tattooed it on me while very clearly high. he took F O R E V E R

upside down compass: i have this gorgeous intricate lord of the rings compass on the back of my neck that GOT DONE UPSIDE DOWN BY MISTAKE and it’s tragic, i don’t even like to think about it??? ugh

narsil: my other LOTR tattoo is the broken shaft on narsil on my forearm. it’s cool as hell, and very delicately done.

i think that’s all of them? yes. i believe it is. tattoos are great and this post is so silly without pictures, but thank you for asking so that i could talk about all my beautiful artwork! to anyone considering tattoos, i cannot recommend enough getting tattooed by a lady who makes you feel safe. there are so many talented artists out there, there’s no need to go to a shop that makes you feel like shit for being there. use your money to fund someone whose art you will feel honored to wear for the rest of your life, and then get something sweet and YOU and dumb tattooed, like an emoji or donkey kong wearing chuck taylors made out of bananas.

thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

[tabloidtoc]

Star, November 9

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Hollywood Personal Assistants Tell All 

Page 1: Ellen DeGeneres’ funky new hairdo -- as her show suffers a dip in the ratings Ellen tries a sweeping new style 

Page 2: Contents, Tom Cruise 

Page 3: To honor Claudia Schiffer’s 50th she was gifted her own designer Barbie line, Kylie Jenner out in Beverly Hills with a mini purse, Chris Pine took his white Mercedes out for a spin 

Page 4: Matthew McConaughey’s shocking revelations -- the happy-go-lucky star shares some dark experiences that shaped him in his dishy new memoir 

Page 5: A week after Lily James was snapped kissing her married costar Dominic West in Rome she abruptly pulled out of a planned interview touting her project Rebecca and it was just the latest cancellation for her because she also ghosted on The Graham Norton Show and Today show appearances in the wake of the scandal -- Lily is pushing Dominic to leave his wife once the dust settles because she’s falling for him but she’s concerned about appearing like a homewrecker, on what would have been her son Benjamin Keogh’s 28th birthday Lisa Marie Presley took to Instagram to pay tribute to him, fans were shocked when Ant Anstead and Christina Anstead announced their split just a year after welcoming their son together and now Ant has revealed he enrolled in a breakup recovery program to deal with his own pain 

Page 6: Two decades after he rose to heartthrob fame as Brad Taylor on Home Improvement Zachery Ty Bryan is facing some serious charges after police were called to his apartment in Eugene in Oregon after he allegedly assaulted his girlfriend; the incident comes just weeks after the dad of four posted on social media that he and his wife of 14 years were divorcing, Lizzo has bristled at being linked with the idea of body positivity and instead would rather be considered body normative giving a shout-out to the girls who are in the 18-plus club but after reaching 300-plus pounds she was persuaded to adopt a vegan diet for the good of her health but that doesn’t mean she has to like it and exercise is going no better, Star Spots the Stars -- Olivia Wilde, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Miley Cyrus, Kelly Ripa, Lana Condor, Nico Tortorella, Charlotte McKinney 

Page 8: Star Shots -- Sarah Jessica Parker’s wardrobe malfunction during a photo shoot, Katie Holmes and Emilio Vitolo Jr. jumped on Citibank rental bikes for a tour of NYC, Heidi and Spencer Pratt at a local pumpkin patch with their son Gunner 

Page 9: Rachel Brosnahan raised her glass ahead of AFI Fest’s special presentation of her new thriller I’m Your Woman, Giada De Laurentiis 

Page 12: Following a ride on the subway Jaimie Alexander welcomed the fresh air as she strolled through NYC 

Page 13: Diane Von Furstenberg flashed the victory sign on a visit to her store in NYC, Kristen Taekman’s Halloween candy bag spilled, Molly Shannon pedaling her beloved blue bike, Larry David 

Page 14: Alessandra Ambrosio playing beach volleyball, despite being accused of defying Covid-19 regulations on set Dua Lipa had a laugh shooting a new music video in East London, John Waters at the 15th Rome Film Fest 

Page 15: Wiz Khalifa and girlfriend Aimee Aguilar walking their dog Prada in L.A., Kelly Clarkson brought her dog Henry to the beach in Santa Barbara 

Page 16: Angela Bassett at AFI Fest’s drive-in screening of One Night in Miami, Michael Strahan, Vince Gill stopped by Phil Vasaar’s home in Nashville for Songs From the Cellar

Page 17: Too Hot to Handle’s Francesca Farago and model Corin Jamie Lee Clark and a friend stepped out with a dog for a lunch date in West Hollywood, pregnant Kelly Rowland out in Brentwood 

Page 18: Normal or Not? Simon Cowell rehydrated during a sunny day in Los Angeles -- normal, Irina Shayk picked up her daughter Lea from school in NYC -- normal 

Page 19: Emma Slater of Dancing with the Stars used her teeth as a cup holder during a bike cruise -- not normal 

Page 20: Fashion -- stars stun in cape dresses -- Cate Blanchett, Camila Mendes, Daisy Ridley 

Page 21: Tracee Ellis Ross, Zoey Deutch 

Page 24: During the 16th season premiere of The Bachelorette Clare Crawley boldly announced she has met her future husband just moments after meeting Dale Moss and now they’re engaged but the two have to wait for their love story to unfold on camera so they can finally step out together in public 

Page 25: Zooey Deschanel and Jonathan Scott are engaged -- Jonathan held off proposing until Zooey’s divorce from Jacob Pechenik was finalized and now the pair are not only planning their trip down the aisle but they’re also designing their dream home and they’re talking about settling down in Las Vegas, for the first time since their initial date in January Reba McEntire and Rex Linn are back together again and their smiles say it all in a picture of the two catching up in Montana -- the reunion gave them the perfect opportunity to make up for lost time and plan their future which includes moving in together in a place in Malibu by the beach, Courteney Cox raised eyebrows when she admitted she and Johnny McDaid haven’t seen each other since March and though Court put on a brave face the pair have struggled to maintain their seven-year romance amid the global lockdown and she sometimes feels ghosted -- they talk every day and do Zoom dates but it’s excruciating that they’re stuck on separate continents

Page 26: Cover Story -- Personal Assistants Tell All -- employees reveal what their A-list bosses are really like behind closed doors -- Kelly Clarkson wine dials, Lady Gaga refuses to doze alone 

Page 27: Madonna put staff on diets, George Clooney hands out cash, Jennifer Aniston’s diva demands 

Page 28: Renee Zellweger sneaks junk food, Selena Gomez is a secret slob, Justin Bieber is the neighbor from hell 

Page 29: Mila Kunis keeps nannies away from Ashton Kutcher, blind items -- assistants spill on some unmentionable subjects 

Page 30: Kim Kardashian’s 40th freak-out -- she should be on top of the world but with her show cancelled and her marriage hanging by a thread Kim is a little shook as she enters her fifth decade 

Page 32: Secrets of The Crown -- the royal blockbuster welcomes a doomed princess for its fourth season 

Page 34: Little Ones Living Large -- kids reap the rewards when mommy and daddy are raking in the big bucks -- Kylie Jenner and Travis Scott’s daughter Stormi’s pricey pack, Beyonce and Jay-Z’s daughter Blue’s splashy tub 

Page 35: Cardi B and Offset’s daughter Kulture’s smooth ride, Sandra Bullock’s son Louis’ fine art, Khloe Kardashian’s daughter True’s flashy fleet 

Page 36: Kim Kardashian’s daughter North’s novelty gift, Jennifer Lopez’s daughter Emme’s career boost 

Page 37: The Jolie-Pitt’s wheelie cool yard, DJ Khalad’s kids Asahd and Aalam are tiny jet-setters, Mariah Carey’s twins Moroccan and Monroe are party kids 

Page 42: Entertainment 

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Drew Barrymore celebrating the launch of her Flower Beauty makeup line at CVS

[wordywarriorwrites]

Chapter 17: Deliverance

Masterlist: The Boss of Brooklyn  A03 Story Link Author: @wordywarriorwrites​ Summary: When it comes to being The Boss, James Buchanan “JB” Barnes rules with an iron fist. For him, there’s no room for sentiment, and certainly no time for distraction, even if it is in the form of an old flame. Steve Rogers had bowed out of the life a long time ago, but a twist of fate brings him right back into the fold, and face-to-face with a man he once loved. When a game of cat and mouse turns into a matter of life and death, both will be forced to decide whether they’ll be loyal to the business, or faithful to each other. A/N: Bucky Barnes Mob Boss AU. Stucky. For: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Star’s Multi-Fandom Follower Celebration with the prompt, “Why did you do it?” & @sherrybaby14 Sherry’s Fall Into You Challenge with the prompt, “Show me. Prove that you can handle me.” Warnings: Language, violence, drug use, alcohol, smoking, explicit sexual content, illegal activities. *Re-blogs are welcome. Plagiarism isn’t. *

Twelve Weeks Later…

Grand Bahama Island was nothing short of paradise.

Clear-blue waters and sandy shores. All-inclusive resorts, fantastic cuisine, and a population that consisted of friendly locals, old money, and the nouveau rich. Privacy, exclusivity, and luxury, all wrapped up in an idyllic package.

And now, Bucky owned a piece of it.  

The deed was discovered inside an understated, navy-blue letter storage box. It had been found crushed at the very bottom of the heap of customary tributes and gifts Bucky received on his birthday. Banner, Sam, and Natasha had been helping him sort through everything and write thank-you notes for weeks, and they were finally in the home stretch.

Those lower on the totem pole gave cash or a nice bottle of booze. Others higher up on the food chain arranged to foot the bill for more extravagant things, like a tailor-made suit or a custom watch. People at the very top spared no expense, and usually gifted items like a trip to a destination of his choice or an imported car, but in this instance, someone had decided to give him a multi-million-dollar mansion just off the coast of Florida.

“It’s from Fury,” Banner declared. “Paperwork’s legit and the place is legally yours.”

Sam let out a low whistle, “That’s one hell of a birthday present.”

Natasha opened the final envelope from the pile and pulled out a stack of papers, “And here’s another.”  

Bucky quickly scrawled a personalized message to Fury before he set his pen aside and accepted the file. The pages had little sticky-note flags that drew attention to each place that required a signature, and all corresponding lines had been properly dated, initialed, stamped, and notarized.

It had taken awhile, but Steve finally signed the documents, and had formally stepped aside.  

“I hope you’re happy now,” Natasha muttered.

Bucky sighed and turned to Bruce, “Take this directly to Wanda, and tell her to transfer the money as discussed. Sam, go with him. I want you both back here and ready to leave in thirty minutes.”

Both men nodded and hopped to it, and once they were gone, Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and gave him the stink-eye. He pointedly ignored her huffiness, left the office, and went to double-check his luggage. He, Sam, and Bruce were due to fly out to Bermuda in three hours to set up shop, and after Bucky made sure he had everything he needed, he left his bedroom, and dropped the bag by the door.

“He’s gone,” Natasha snapped as she entered the living room. “Are you satisfied?”

“Don’t start,” he warned.  

“Given enough time, you two could’ve taken the whole of New York. You could’ve been an unstoppable, untouchable powerhouse, and your influence at home and abroad would’ve been limitless.”

“He wanted his freedom,” Bucky bit out lowly. “And I granted it.”

She laughed and threw up her hands, “Well, if you won’t have him, others will. I know some guys here who’ve been chomping at the bit for years, and they just can’t wait to get their hands on him.”

Somewhere on the fringes of his brain, he heard Natasha point out that Steve was smoking hot, filthy fucking rich, and had that whole “wounded, bad-boy” thing going on – all of which his future bedmates would find exceedingly attractive. She also surmised Steve was bound to fall in love again eventually, and might even get married someday. Natasha then went on to say she hoped to be invited to the wedding, and that if Steve and his future husband ever adopted children, she would be the best auntie.

Bucky wasn’t entirely too sure how it happened. One minute, Natasha was prattling about baby clothes, in-home nannies, private schools, and how expensive college tuition was; the next, he had her by the throat, and slammed up against the wall. How the gun got in his hand was a mystery, and he didn’t know how the barrel ended up pressed to the center of her forehead, either.

All it took was one look into her triumph-filled eyes for Bucky to know she’d keyed him up on purpose. Natasha was the only person in his life he truly trusted and cared for, and Bucky had never raised a hand to her before, but his violent overreaction was proof he’d let his emotions overrule his reason yet again.

Bucky immediately released her and lowered the gun, “Nat… Shit, I didn’t…”

“An unacknowledged weakness is a dangerous thing,” she wheezed.

He cleared his throat and took a step back, “I just… I need you to leave it alone, alright?”

Natasha closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, “What you need to do is nut up, go to Steve, and beg for his forgiveness. You know he belongs here with you, so, stop fighting it.”

The long stretch of heavily-weighted silence was broken by the return of Sam and Bruce. Both men had been laughing and chatting excitedly about the upcoming trip, but when they saw the cannon in Bucky’s hand and the abrasions around Natasha’s throat, they fell silent.

“Everything cool?” Sam wondered.

Natasha coughed and waved him off, but it wasn’t until Bucky holstered his weapon that the tension dissipated. While Banner examined Natasha, Sam approached him, and asked if he was all good.

Bucky nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, “Just a misunderstanding. Won’t happen again.”

A few moments later, a text announced the arrival of their car, and as it was Sam’s job to ensure it was actually their ride and not some sort of ambush, he shouldered his rucksack, and headed down first. After Bucky received the all clear, Bruce picked up his duffel, mumbled that travelling with the Boss was a pain in the ass, and followed suit.

Bucky gathered his bag and told Natasha he’d text when they landed. He’d been waiting in the hallway for the elevator for some time before the door to his penthouse opened, and she came out to join him.      

“Can you forgive me?” he requested solemnly.

“Bring me back something pretty and I’ll consider it.”

“Just let me know what kind of jewels you want.”

Natasha said, “diamonds and rubies,” and on the heels of her quip, the elevator door parted. As they descended, she linked arms with him, placed her head on his shoulder, and confessed she didn’t want him to be alone. When he pithily told her that she’d end up with wrinkles if she didn’t stop worrying, she pinched his bicep hard, and called him an asshole.

Bucky grinned and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “Stop busting my balls, alright? I’ll be fine.”

Whatever she may have said by way of response was cut off when the elevator signaled that they’d reached the ground floor. The driver was quick to stow his bags and open the door for him, but before he could get in the back seat, Natasha tugged his arm, and halted him.

“Just promise me,” she insisted. “Promise me you’ll think about what I said.”

Bucky was saved from having to lie to her when Sam leaned out and yelled that they needed to get a move on. The last thing he heard before Natasha slammed the door in his face was, “Steve’s in Île Saint-Louis,” and her blurted declaration caught not only his attention, but Bruce’s as well.

“That’s not good,” Banner spluttered. “If Steve’s in Paris… Oh, that’s bad. Very bad…”

Sam glanced at him and made a motion with his hand for him to continue, “You want to fill me in?”

Bruce launched into what could only be described as an impassioned tirade that lasted for the entire drive to the airport and all the way through take off.  

He informed that Mason Dubois, the only child and beloved son of multi-billionaire and former mob Boss, Luc Dubois, lived in Paris. They were direct descendants of Jules Bonnot, who founded the Bonnot Gang in France in the 1900’s. Luc had followed in his ancestor’s footsteps, but unlike Jules, he hadn’t been an anarchist, and he’d never been caught. Before his untimely death, Luc ran the biggest game in the country; when the father passed away, the son stepped in, and his political ties, fortune, and Bonnot lineage meant he had more money, status, and power than God himself.

It was common knowledge that the Hornec gang was the most active and notorious crew in Paris, and though Dubois received a cut of the profits, racketeering, drugs, and illegal slot machines weren’t his stock and trade. He and his associates were definitely upper-crust, white-collar criminals, and they were extremely well-funded and very well-connected.

Sam still couldn’t see what the problem was, which prompted Bruce to reveal that Mason Dubois was Wanda’s cousin by marriage. He’d been in town the night of Bucky’s party and Wanda had introduced him to Steve. They were both in the business, knew some of the same players, and had common interests. Mason was also considered one of the most eligible bachelors in France, and for all intents and purposes, Steve was single as well.  

The not-so-subtle implications of Banner’s long-winded diatribe made Bucky close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. As soon as the plane landed and they got checked in to the resort, he retreated to his suite, and poured himself a more than liberal drink.

Bucky had done the impossible. He’d reclaimed Brooklyn; restored his people’s confidence in full; asserted complete control over the West Indies; and had come back from what could’ve been a very costly and fatal mistake. He should’ve been glad his long-term plan had succeeded, but he wasn’t, and the more he examined the reasons for his uneasiness, the more uncomfortable he became.

Steve’s acquiesce to the terms and subsequent departure to Paris meant he’d decided to free himself from the last vestiges of their strained, complicated relationship. He was no longer under any obligation to Bucky or the Families, which meant all bets were off. Wanda could play match-maker all she liked, and as a free-agent, Steve could conduct business -- and climb into bed -- with whomever he wished to.

And there was nothing Bucky could do about it.

His former best-friend, past partner-in-crime, and soon-to-be-lost love of his life was in danger of being taken off the market in more ways than one, and Bucky knew Natasha’s parting words had been a last-ditch effort to make him come to terms with it. She wanted him to not only admit his feelings, but also face the consequences of his actions, and repair the damage.

If Bucky had been honest – if he’d, just once, put Steve first – maybe things could’ve been different. If he hadn’t pulled him back in; hadn’t lifted him up just to screw him over; hadn’t betrayed him and rejected him and broken his heart so many fucking times…

The sound of his phone going off prodded him out of his thoughts; he’d forgotten to text Natasha, which explained why she’d reached out first, but before he could type a reply, another message came through.

The words, “Let me handle Bermuda,” appeared, along with a URL that redirected Bucky the website of his preferred airline. According to the departure schedule, if he booked the ticket immediately, and hauled ass to the airport, he could be in France just after sunrise. Natasha followed up again mere seconds later with, “You go get him and bring him home.”

Bucky scraped a hand over his face, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. With his heart somewhere in the vicinity of his fucking throat, he penciled himself into first class, checked in before he could change his mind, and called down to the lobby for a car.

Though the prospect of an uncertain outcome terrified him, Bucky was going to Paris, and in twelve hours, he’d know for sure whether or not his change of heart was just in time, or far too little, and much too late.

Chapter 18: On Va Voir

Everything: @jennmurawski13​​​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​

Steve Rogers: @patzammit @hearttoearth​ The Boss of Brooklyn: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety​ @captain-rogers-beard​ @lilliannaansalla

[floatingtoad]

Proposal.

Title: Proposal.

Pairing: Clementine x Louis.

Summary: Louis takes Clementine to the place where they first met and proposes.

Warning: sOOO much fluff, Louis being a freaking awkward dork.

Requested by: @clemmintime lmfao she gave me the idea when we were talking in dms, thank youuuu youre great pal

A/n: I thought this was cute, here you go (:

-

Soft hands cover her face as she stumbles into an unknown room, Louis snickering quietly behind her and if she didn’t have her eyes covered by her idiot boyfriend of 6 years, she would roll her hazel eyes to the back of her head. 

Today was a special day, very special in fact: It's their 6 year anniversary and as usual for every anniversary they’ve had Louis has done something special for his beloved darling.. But this time was going to top them all, hopefully. 

“Are we here?” She speaks up, annoyance in her voice with a hint of curiousness. Louis grins, nodding his head and leans over her shoulder, pecking her cheek ever so slightly. Six years and it still makes her blush, it makes him happy knowing she still likes him as much as he likes her.

“We are indeed, my sweet,” Louis mumbles out, panicking when she goes to take his hands off of her.

“Wait! Keep your eyes closed, I’ll tell you when to open.” His hands slowly slide off her eyes, the boy making sure they still closed.” No peaking!”

She groans out, rolling her head back as he shakes his head and quickly walks over to the piano he oh so loved, sitting down on the bench in front of it. Louis’ brown eyes land on their initials carved into the Piano with a very awkward looking heart around it, the boy remembering that night easily.

The couple haven’t been in the piano room for a while, too busy dealing with very serious things with the group that was still living. But this week its been peaceful, thankfully. Finally, they could have an anniversary without any trouble, unlike the other times. They made it work though, they always did.

He lets out a cough, hovering his hands on the keys of the piano before pressing down and playing the song he wrote her the night they confessed to each other. Louis would never admit this but he remembered all of the keys to “Clementine” for years just for this day if it happened, and here he was.

A gasp escapes Clementine’s lips, hazel eyes widening at the sound as a tiny smile forms on her face at the sight. She looks around the room, nothing changed and it made her heart skip a beat.

Clementine slowly walks over to the piano, a smile on her face as he slowly scoots over but continues to play. She sits beside him, looking at him with basically heart eyes at this moment. The girl hasn’t heard it in a while and every time he does play it, she gets so flustered.

Once he’s done, he looks at her and smiles even more-- proud of himself as she looked pretty fucking happy about it. Louis goes to say something probably dorky, but she shuts him up with a kiss. Their lips lock together and Louis’ eyes widen from shock, it caught him off guard but slowly melts into it as his eyelids close slowly.

Louis pulls back after a second, a blush on his face as he examines the look on her face before he looks away at the carving on the piano.

“Hm, wonder who they are?” He says teasingly, Clementine peaking over and also blushing at the memory. 

“A dork and a small orange..” She responds jokingly, laying her chin on his shoulder and dazedly staring at it as he lets out a laugh. Clementine lifts her chin up when he stands, walking to the back of the piano and looking at the strings.

“Can you blow on the strings, I think it sounded kind of messed up-- Don’t you think?” He asks teasingly, Clementine rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

“You can’t fool me again, Lou..” She speaks, crossing her arms as he smirks while leaning over the edge.

“ At least I tried,” he shrugs, still smiling ever so slightly. He digs in his pocket, his fingers grabbing a hold of the ring he was about to give her and confess his love.

“ I have something to ask you, uh... it’s kinda it's kinda serious?” he begins, still fiddling with the metal thing in his hand. “I mean.. in a way.”

Clementine gives him a look, raising a brow-- Was it bad?? Oh god, what did he do this time?

“What is it? You can tell me..” The serious look on his face made her worry.

“Okay, here goes nothing.”

Louis notices the nervousness in her eyes, the boy having the exact same expression as he sighs out. “ I love you, Clementine.. I really do, more than anything in this world. So, will you m-”  He cut off as he pulls the ring out, only for it to fall into the piano, both of their eyes widening as panic sets in for many different reasons.

“Oh my god, no!” He cries out, Clementine watching as he digs in for it-- tears in her eyes as she couldn’t help but smile at the dork.

He finds it eventually, grabbing the metal thing and lifting it up once more carefully as his eyes go to hers. Louis’ face was flustered as ever, becoming even more flustered when he sees the amused look on her face.

“Uh, oops, that’s awkward, hah, anyways will you marry me?”

-

You decide if she says yes lmfao

@orphic-days

[aritrevel]

beauty queen on a silver screen (living life like i’m in a dream)

To Alex ( @nextblackpaladin​ ), my giftee for the @voltron-ss​ event! One of your pairings was Shance, and boy do I love writing Shance. I hope you enjoy this virtual gift as much as your physical ones! Happy Holidays~ ^^

Also on AO3!

December 25th. Christmas. One of the most beloved and anticipated holidays in history. A holiday that has stores bustling even after the day has passed. A holiday that brings joy as much as it brings stress.

A holiday where Shiro always wonders what to get his boyfriend, who already seems to have everything. It’s hard shopping for someone who regularly buys from stores like Burberry and Louis Vuitton.

Shiro sighed softly as he added another finished pancake to the growing stack beside him. He reached for the mixing bowl and peered into it, seeing just enough batter for two more pancakes, give or take. Slowly, he poured some of the batter onto the griddle in front of him, stopping once a medium sized circle took up the middle of the griddle. Placing the mixing bowl back down, he shuffled to the right of the stove, picking up a discarded fork to flip the sausages, licking his lips as he stared at them. Cooking while his stomach growled and tried to eat itself wasn’t a good idea, but at least he had things to snack on.

Trading his fork for a half eaten banana, Shiro pulled at the peel to give himself easier access. Taking a bite, he let his mind wander back to his dilemma as he chewed slowly. A gift for Lance. It wasn’t like he didn’t have one. He was just worried how his gift would be taken. It was severely different from what Lance was used to, and, despite Lance being pretty open-minded, Shiro couldn’t stop himself from becoming nervous to the point that he didn’t want to give the gift at all.

Can’t do that. Mom would kill me, he thought as he swallowed his banana and returned his focus back to the stove, putting down his banana once more in favor of a wooden spoon to push around the scrambled eggs cooking on the back burner. Engrossed in making breakfast and worrying about Lance’s gift, he almost missed the sound of slow, quiet footsteps heading his way. He made no move to acknowledge the newcomer until he felt a smaller body press up against his back, mumbling something—probably a greeting—into the fabric of his pajama shirt.

“Morning, Lance,” Shiro said. “Did you sleep well?” He felt the movement of a nod against his back. “Well, you’re up just in time. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Lance’s head shifted and then, “You’re cooking?” The “Why?” wasn’t said, but the curiosity laced his tone, and Shiro picked up on it.

“I felt like it’d be nice since it’s Christmas,” Shiro explained. He got a hum and a squeeze around his midsection before Lance was pulling away, shuffling to one of the many cabinets to retrieve two plates. The noises of a busy kitchen—metal clinking against metal, sizzling food, pans being moved around—filled the comfortable silence between Lance and Shiro as breakfast was finished up and food was being placed on multiple napkin-covered plates.

“I was thinking that we should open gifts after,” Shiro suggested as he cleaned up and Lance made their plates.

“Sounds good. Then we can get dressed and head over to Allura’s,” Lance added. “Says she has gifts for us.”

Shiro tensed. “Allura got us gifts?”

“Don’t worry, we’re not going empty-handed. We got her one, too.” Lance smiled as he took their plates to the living room, bypassing the giant, fancy dining room that they rarely use. Shiro was left with his thoughts as he tried to remember buying a present for Allura. Knowing Lance, he probably suggested something and Shiro unconsciously agreed to it. That tended to happen more than Shiro would like to admit. Finishing the dishes, Shiro dried his hands and left the kitchen to join Lance in the living room, settling on their rug beside him.

“I love it when you cook,” Lance confessed as he ate, embarrassing Shiro. For Lance to love his cooking, despite always being fed by a professional chef, meant a lot to him. Especially since his cooking was nowhere close to the standards of a professional chef.

“Maybe I should cook more often. Give the chef some needed vacation,” Shiro joked, chuckling at his words. His laughter stopped abruptly at the wide-eyed, pleading look Lance was giving him. “Y-You really want me to cook that much?” Lance nodded eagerly. Shiro shrugged. “If that’s what you want.” There was an excited squeal before sticky lips pressed against his own, tasting of maple syrup and fluffy, buttermilk pancakes and bacon and something that was indescribably Lance. It ended before he could kiss back, and he was left to lick his lips of maple syrup.

They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence, and Shiro observed Lance in his good mood. He couldn’t fathom that his cooking would make Lance that happy, but he wasn’t going to question it. He’d do anything to please Lance, who always did so much for him. Lance took their empty plates back to the kitchen, leaving Shiro to get to his feet and make his way towards the room their tree was set up.

The tree stood six feet and was covered from bottom to top with decorations of ice blue, silver, white, and gold. A snowflake sat at the very tip of the tree. Memories of letting Lance sit on his shoulder to get to the higher branches filled his mind, making him smile fondly. Their hard work had paid off. Shiro has never seen a more beautiful tree. Its elegant appearance fit well with Lance’s tastes and the rest of the luxurious house.

“I’m going to be sad when we take it down,” Lance said from behind him, eyes fixated on the tree as well. Shiro felt the same, even if only slightly.

“Let’s see what we got underneath.” Shiro bent down, reaching for the sole two gifts underneath the tree. There was only two of them, after all. It didn’t help that Shiro disliked being showered with gifts from Lance, and he never knew what to get him either. He straightened up, handing the white box with Lance’s name to him while holding onto the other. “Do you want to open yours first?”

“You go.” Shiro began to tear away the generic wrapping paper, revealing a red jewelry box decorated with gold accents around the edges. With furrowed eyebrows, he opened the box to show a steel watch with royal blue Roman numerals replacing regular numbers. The longer he stared at it, the more his eyes widened. The name Cartier stood out like a sore thumb.

“Do you like it?” Lance asked softly, observing Shiro’s reaction. “You’ve been talking about getting a new watch for a while. I had another one in mind. It was so gorgeous, Shiro! All gold with the same blue. But I thought that steel would go better with your outfits because steel matches anything.” Lance chewed on his bottom lip as Shiro stayed silent, gently removing the watch from its box. “Is it too much? I… I know you don’t like, uh, fancy gifts, so I tried to… hold back a little bit.”

Shiro placed the watch on his left wrist. The cold metal against his skin sent shivers up his arm as he fastened it, twisting his wrist in awe. “It’s nice,” he admitted, eyes flickering from the blue of the watch to the blue of Lance’s eyes. “Not too much at all. Thank you.” He took a step forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Lance’s forehead. “I’m glad you went with this one,” he said as he pulled back. “The gold one? That would have been too much.”

“If only you seen it, Shiro! And it didn’t even cost that much. Only… thirty-two thousand, I think—”

Shiro choked, but Lance was none the wiser, too engrossed in his rambling.

“I would have expected a higher price. I would have paid it, too. A watch like that deserves half a million, to be honest. Don’t you think so, Shiro?”

Shiro couldn’t have agreed less. He was still recovering over the watch’s initial price. Hearing Lance spout such numbers like they barely made a dent in his bank account, which was probably true, only reminded Shiro of his own gift. His worry returned tenfold. But it was too late to back out now.

“We can talk about ridiculously high prices for watches another time. Right now,” Shiro gestured to the box in Lance’s grip, “you have a gift to open.”

Lance must have forgotten about his present, if the way his eyes widened was any indication. Shifting his focus to the white gift box decorated with a simple red bow in the corner, Lance removed the top, setting it down gently at his feet. Inside was two hand-sewn sweaters. One was white with the word ‘PRINCE’ sewn in navy blue across the front and a little, golden crown sewn on top of the ‘P’. The other was black with the word ‘KNIGHT’ sewn in white with the ‘I’ being replaced with a gray sword facing down. It wasn’t rocket science to figure out which sweater belong to who, and Lance wasted no time in taking his out, handing the box back to Shiro as he admired his sweater more closely.

“I know it isn’t much,” Shiro began as he watched Lance run his fingers over the visible stitches and patterns in the sweater, “but it’s a tradition for my mom to knit me a sweater every Christmas. And since you’re apart of the family, it’s only right that you start getting them, too.” Shiro paused, swallowing silently. “I-It’s nothing compared to your gift, but I hope you still li—”

“I love it!” Lance interrupted, tearing his gaze away from the sweater clutched to his chest and surprising Shiro with his watery eyes. He sniffed once and blinked, causing tears to roll down his face and catch on his chin for a second before falling, wetting his new sweater.

“Lance—”

“I’m such a crybaby,” Lance chuckled brokenly, wiping away at his eyes. His face was flushed a pretty pink as he futilely tried to stop himself from crying. “It’s just… n-no one’s ever made something for me,” he hiccuped, tears falling faster than he could wipe.

A fond smile graced Shiro’s features. Out of all of the reactions he imagined, Lance being so overwhelmed to the point of tears wasn’t one of them. But he wasn’t complaining. Setting the boxes in his hands aside, Shiro closed the distance between them, bringing Lance into his embrace. He rubbed soothing circles on Lance’s back and pressed his lips to the top of Lance’s head while he cried, babbling “thank you”s and gasping “i love you”s into Shiro’s shirt.

For once, Shiro actually appreciated the sweaters his mom knitted.

She’d be happy to hear that she has one more person to knit for every year.

[cometsheart]

Good Together Day 4: Comfort

Didn’t mean to post this right before the day ends but I guess that’s what happens when a fic ends up being like 3 times longer than you planned ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Shiloh slowly regained consciousness, eir mind fuzzy with pain. Why was ey in pain? “Mala-“ ey started, then jerked upright as memories came rushing back to em. That was a bad idea. Eir head was throbbing with pain but ey couldn’t care bring emself to care about that. The sight of Malachi, drained of Light and unable to move, slipping out of eir grasp and tumbling over the edge of the Cabal ship was playing over and over in eir mind. Ey forced emself to stand up, clutching eir side in agony. How do ordinary people live with pain for this long? Ghaul had kicked Shiloh off the ship not too long after ey’d dropped Malachi; ey had to have landed not too far from where he’d fallen.

Shiloh ripped off eir helmet – eir armor was in tatters after the fall and a broken helmet only served to impede eir vision. Ey needed as much help as ey could get to find someone as small as eir Ghost. If ey had survived the fall then Malachi surely had too, though he’d be very vulnerable given his catatonic state. Shiloh could hear Cabal troops passing through the area and shuddered. Ey didn’t want to think about what could happen if they came across a helpless Ghost.

Ey forced emself to take a step forward, then another, every breath ragged as ey stumbled through the ruins of the City. Shiloh didn’t know what ey was going to do – what ey even could do – once ey found Malachi. How could ey fight this? Ey had no Light, eir Ghost was essentially in a coma, and the only weapon ey had was a pistol with no ammo. One thing at a time, Shiloh. Just focus on avoiding Cabal patrols and finding Malachi. Everything else can wait.

Luckily ey didn’t have to wait long. “Guardian?” a familiar voice called. “This is awful – awful!” Ey felt relief wash over em. Malachi was alive, and by the sound of it had recovered from the initial shock of having his Light drained. Shiloh tried to walk a bit faster in the direction of his voice, but ey didn’t get very far, collapsing as ey felt a sharp pain in eir side.

The noise had caught Malachi’s attention and he cautiously floated a bit closer – then rushed forward as he caught a glimpse of the Guardian gasping in a puddle. “Shiloh,” he said as he began healing his beloved Guardian. “I thought I’d lost you,” they said in unison. Shiloh stood up and Malachi felt the familiar sensation of eir gloved hands cupping his shell. Ey rested eir forehead against him and he closed his eye, treasuring the feeling of safety and relief he felt at their reunion.

It didn’t last long, though, and he reluctantly pulled back. “It’s been two days since the initial attack,” he explained, his voice warped and filled with static. He forced himself to continue despite the stunned look on Shiloh’s face. “I can heal you, but I can’t resurrect you.” So please don’t die on me. “Not since…” he trailed off, hesitating. None of this was going to be easy to hear, but he had to say it.

“The Red Legion has taken the City, the Traveler, everything. The Light is gone and they’re killing powerless Guardians. They’re evacuating the planet and we’re on our own; we have to get out of here.” He knew Shiloh. Ey’d want to fight, to drive the Cabal out of their home. They’d faced countless enemies before, slain entities far more powerful than this Cabal leader, but they’d had the Light. They’d had the help of a fireteam. “I know you want to help, but we don’t have the Light anymore. You don’t even have a weapon!” he said, desperately trying to convince em to leave for safety. I can’t lose you.

“So it’s just like when you first rezzed me in the Cosmodrome, then?” Shiloh said, tearing eir eyes away from the sight of the captured Traveler to look at Malachi. Eir false bravado immediately fell away as ey registered just how bad a shape he was in. The parade shell that had been so shiny and new just a couple days – a couple days! – prior was battered, scratched, and covered in filth. Although it looked like Malachi was struggling to keep it around his core, ey could still read his body language well enough to tell that he was terrified.

Malachi saw Shiloh’s expression soften and ey leaned forward, pressing eir soft, warm lips against his shell. He floated closer, pressing himself further into the kiss. He’d been so terrified he’d never feel this again, and he wished they could stay like this forever. Eventually, Shiloh pulled away. “We survived then and we’ll survive now,” ey said firmly. “I think we still have some connection to the Traveler, even if it’s an extremely tenuous one.”

Ey pressed on before Malachi could protest. “I had…a vision of some sort while I was unconscious. Most of it didn’t make sense, but I saw a large shard of the Traveler in a forest by the shore. I have a feeling that’s where we need to go.” Ey saw him relax significantly. “I think you should stay fizzled; it’ll be easier if I only have to protect myself.” Malachi spun his shell in assent and his physical form vanished with a shower of sparks.

Shiloh felt the familiar warmth of his Light intertwining with eir own as ey made eir way to the outskirts of the City. And then they were gone.

***

They’d been traveling for a couple days, cautiously picking their way through the mountains, when they came across the camp. There were a dozen or so bodies strewn across the site – the bodies of other Guardians. “These Guardians…they had no chance without their powers.” Malachi said as Shiloh grimly searched them for anything ey could use. “That could be us. We need to be very careful.” “I know,” Shiloh said softly.

They found some sorely needed ammo and a functional submachine gun, and ey replaced the parade armor ey’d been wearing with some of the least damaged gear from the dead Guardians. None of these capes are any good, Shiloh thought sourly. The thought bothered em; there were much more important things to focus on than fashion.

They’d barely set foot outside the camp when the War Beasts attacked. Malachi tensed, prepared to heal the slightest scratch at any second. It was almost sad; normally Shiloh would just toss a grenade towards the charging pack and let them blow themselves up, but without grenades ey had to keep eir distance. Ey was constantly retreating and taking careful shots at the beasts charging at em. They couldn’t afford to waste any ammo.

When the last one had fallen, they decided to stay near the campsite for the night. Shiloh went to the smoldering remains of the fire started by the fallen Guardians and coaxed it back to life. Ey sat and stared into it quietly for a while. Malachi cautiously materialized in front of em. He didn’t have to have a mental connection with his Guardian to know that something was troubling em-well, that something new was troubling em. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

Shiloh continued to stare into the fire for a while, watching as sparks lazily drifted upwards before vanishing. “After everything that’s happened-the Speaker and the Traveler being captured, the fall of the City and the Tower, us losing our Light-all of this and the only thing I can think about is how much I miss my old cloak.” Cloak of the Exodus. Ey sighed and stared at the ground, drawing the Dead Orbit symbol in the dirt.

Did the Cabal wipe out their fleet? Or did their strategy of scattering humanity across the cosmos save thousands of lives that would have otherwise been in the City at the time of the attack? Shiloh didn’t know, and wondered if ey ever would. Malachi sensed eir distress and floated a bit closer.

“I’ve seen this before,” he said quietly. Shiloh looked up, suddenly reminded that he was hundreds of years old. He’d lived through the Dark Age, the Battles of the Six Fronts and the Twilight Gaps, and so much else. “Some people can’t process a tragedy of this scale, so instead they focus their grief on one, concrete thing that they lost, even if it was really minor.” He turned to make eye contact with em. “Besides,” he said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “It was a really nice cloak.” Shiloh gave him a slight smile. “Thanks,” ey said.

Ey was tired. Tired from all the walking, tired from the fighting, tired of all the horrible things that kept happening. Shiloh went over to a bedroll and lay down. “Good night Malachi, I love you,” ey said as ey closed eir eyes. Ghosts don’t sleep, so Malachi would be watching for any dangers as ey slept. “I love you too, Shiloh,” he said as ey dozed off.

***

Shiloh stared at the gap in front of them. Ey had never been good at jumping. Even with the abilities of the Light and the assistance of some snazzy boots, ey’d always managed to be just short, plummeting to eir death more times than ey cared to admit. They weren’t too far off the ground and ey didn’t think a fall from this height would be lethal, but ey really didn’t want to test that. Shiloh took a deep breath. There was nothing to do but go for it, so ey leaped-

Shiloh came back to consciousness, sitting up with a groan. Damnit. At least I’m not dead. “Hey, you. You’re finally awake.” Ey looked up, startled by the unfamiliar voice and Malachi popped into existence beside em. Someone ey didn’t recognize was standing over em, their arm outstretched in an offer to help em off the ground. Shiloh took their hand and they pulled em to eir feet.

“The name’s Hawthorne. And this-”  she gestured to a falcon circling overhead, which came down to perch on her arm. “-is Louis.” Shiloh recognized that falcon; they’d seen it several times as they’d been walking through the mountain and ey vaguely wondered if it had been trying to lead them here. “That falcon…it belongs to you?” Malachi asked. He was clearly having similar thoughts. Hawthorne smiled. “Best pilot we got. What about you? Fit to fly?” Shiloh nodded, distracted by the sight of several people behind her loading supplies onto ships.

An explosion rang through the mountains. “And that’s our cue. Time to go, people!” She picked up a shotgun. “Probably gonna need one of these, too,” she said, tossing it to Shiloh. “Time to make yourself useful, “Guardian.”” Ey looked at Malachi, wondering what was up with her tone, but ey didn’t have much time to think about it. “All right people, spin ‘em up! Got a long flight ahead of us!”

***

They were flying over a forest with Hawthorne’s group when her voice rang out over their comms. “Coming up on the European dead Zone.” They pierced through the clouds and Shiloh gasped as a large, white shape came into view. “Do you recognize it?” Malachi asked. Shiloh nodded. “That’s where we’re supposed to go.” “That thing?” Hawthorne interjected. “They call it the Shard of the Traveler. I call it: “Not a place you want to go poking around.”” They continued flying in silence for a while longer and finally a clearing with several buildings came into view. “This here’s the Farm; it’s gonna be our new home for a while.” Hawthorne said.

***

Shiloh stood in front of the Shard, panting. Ey’d fought through a lot of Fallen to reach this thing, and ey wasn’t entirely sure they were all gone. They were alone for the moment, though, and Malachi had materialized by em. He flew closer to a glowing crack in the Shard, entranced. “Do you feel it?” he asked. Ey could, though by the awe in his voice Shiloh guessed that his experience was much stronger. His voice was also no longer riddled with static, ey realized. It seemed that just being this close to it was already having a positive effect on them.

The crack began to shoot out Light and Malachi expanded his field to absorb it, glowing a brilliant blueish-white as the Shard restored him. Seconds later, Shiloh felt emself being lifted off the ground as the Malachi channeled the Light through to em. It felt amazing. Gradually, the Shard stopped glowing and ey was lowered to the ground.

The Light felt different, somehow, but ey finally felt whole again. Shiloh took off eir helmet-ey couldn’t stop grinning. Malachi was clearly ecstatic as well, flying circles around em before finally stopping in front of eir face and pressing himself against eir lips. Ey kissed him back, reveling in their shared joy.

Their celebration didn’t last long, however, as the sounds of approaching Fallen filled the glen. Shiloh put eir helmet back on and pulled out a knife, grinning again as the familiar static of Arc energy coursed through em and crackled onto eir knife. Malachi fizzled and his voice filled eir comms: “Let’s light ‘em up.”

[usnewsaggregator-blog]

<em>The Atlantic</em> Daily: Help Shape the World

New Post has been published on http://usnewsaggregator.com/the-atlantic-daily-help-shape-the-world/

The Atlantic Daily: Help Shape the World

What We’re Following

New Allegations: The radio host Leeann Tweeden has accused Democratic Senator Al Franken of Minnesota of kissing her against her will in 2006, and released a disturbing photo in which Franken is shown grabbing at her breasts as she sleeps on a flight. Franken initially responded to the photo by stating, “It was clearly intended to be funny but wasn’t.” He joins a list of comedians who have used humor as an excuse for bad behavior. Shortly afterward, he released a longer apology and expressed his willingness to cooperate with an ethics investigation—the solution his colleagues are calling for, and one that may give Senate Democrats cover to avoid pushing Franken to resign.

Monetary Misdeeds? A federal judge declared a mistrial after jurors deadlocked in the case of Senator Bob Menendez, the New Jersey Democrat who was accused of granting official favors to a donor in exchange for gifts. Meanwhile, Bob Bauer, a former White House counsel to Barack Obama, argues that the private messages Donald Trump Jr. exchanged with WikiLeaks are evidence that the Trump team broke campaign-finance laws.

DNA Developments: A 44-year-old man with Hunter syndrome—a genetic disorder that causes breathing problems, developmental delay, and other symptoms—is the first patient to receive an experimental gene-editing treatment that could be used to cure a range of genetic diseases. And a different gene-editing technology could help New Zealand in an ambitious project to eradicate invasive mammal predators—but the plan could have dangerous consequences for the rest of the world.

—Rosa Inocencio Smith

Snapshot

A woman drives a child to school on a scooter on November 9, 2017, in Greater Noida, India, where severe air pollution, combined with annual temperature change, has covered the region in a thick layer of smog. More photos here. (R. S. Iyer / AP)

Evening Read

Nathan Perl-Rosenthal on Barbara Cooney, an author of children’s books:

Children’s books are more than just entertainment. They reflect how a society sees its young and itself. By shaping the attitudes and aspirations of children, they help shape the world those children will grow up to inherit. Barbara Cooney went on to have a long and celebrated career in American picture books. She illustrated or wrote some 100, including modern classics such as Miss Rumphius and Ox-Cart Man (which garnered her another Caldecott Medal, in 1980). Her books are still beloved, nearly two decades after her death, by readers who admire their visual charm and rich historical storytelling. But Cooney’s greatest gifts, manifest in her work from the start, are more profound. Her singular vision of young Americans and her unique ideas about how to write for them make her books more relevant to Americans today—and perhaps more necessary—than ever before.

Keep reading here, as Perl-Rosenthal describes what Cooney’s books can teach kids about moral courage.

What Do You Know … About Global Affairs?

Political tensions have boiled over in several countries in recent days. In Poland, independence-day celebrations were marred by a march that gathered the racist, anti-Muslim, and anti-Semitic elements of Europe’s extreme right—a movement that includes Poland’s governing Law and Justice Party. Kenya’s Parliament has taken an unscheduled recess after violence over the contested results of the August 8 election overshadowed an October 26 rerun. And in Zimbabwe, 93-year-old Robert Mugabe, who has been in power for 37 years, was put under house arrest by his military in an apparent coup.

Can you remember the other key facts from this week’s global coverage? Test your knowledge below:

1. As part of its Belt and Road Initiative, China is building transportation infrastructure in more than ____________ countries.

Scroll down for the answer, or find it here.

2. According to Burma’s national census, the country’s Muslim population has remained at about ____________ percent since the 1980s.

Scroll down for the answer, or find it here.

3. A new fashion trend started by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has made the ____________ a mark of political loyalty.

Scroll down for the answer, or find it here.

— Annabelle Timsit

Answers: 60 / 4 / blue plaid jacket

Urban Developments

Our partner site CityLab explores the cities of the future and investigates the biggest ideas and issues facing city dwellers around the world. Gracie McKenzie shares three of today’s top stories:

Map nerds: We’ve now got a newsletter just for you!

The Thompson Center captured Chicago’s imagination, if not its heart.Will officials scrap or save the city’s decrepit “starship”?

The outskirts of Paris have been called “no-go zones”—regions where no rules apply. But to residents, they’re neighborhoods that are stigmatized and neglected, and where government intervention is doing more harm than good.

For more updates from the urban world, subscribe to one of CityLab’s newsletters.

Reader Response

Christine Bader asks: “Is There Any Way to Be an Ethical Moviegoer in the Post-Weinstein Era?” A reader in the Atlantic Discussions group reflects:

I’m conflicted on this issue. On the one hand, it is satisfying to not contribute my money to the coffers of terrible people, but those dollars put my daughter through law school. She was a child actor of minor success. The residual income helps keep “the little people” afloat, so rigid boycotts affect more than just the studio heads/directors/producers/etc.

Another writes:

I own plenty of books by writers who were guilty of anything from murder (Louis Althusser strangled his wife, Anne Perry murdered her [friend’s] mother with a brick, etc.) to simply being complete assholes (V. S. Naipaul, for example). In fact, I suspect I’d have to throw out at least half of them if I insist on reading only writers who were good people … I think I’ll rather focus on whether these are good books, and leave the moral judgments to God or Twitter. The same goes for movies.

More reader comments here, and more on what outrage in the film industry could mean for the Oscars, in March, here.

Nouns

Slam dunk, overwhelming success, tipping point, teaching challenge.

Time of Your Life

Happy birthday to Grace (a year younger than James Bond); to Millie’s husband, Randy (twice the age of websites); from Mary to Rick (18 years older than the moon landing); to Laura’s mother and moral compass (a year younger than the board game Monopoly); to Ryan’s wife, Amber (the same age as the Michael Jackson album Thriller); to Kathy’s husband, Ted (born around the time John F. Kennedy was elected president); to John (a year younger than human spaceflight); to Jennifer’s partner, Cormac (13 years older than Buffy the Vampire Slayer); and to our global editor, Kathy (one-fifth the age of The Atlantic).

Do you or a loved one have a birthday coming up? Sign up for a birthday shout-out here, and click here to explore the Timeline feature for yourself.

Meet The Atlantic Daily’s team here, and contact us here.

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Original Article:

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[morethanabelieber]

🤩🥵

And with the two dead priests in his purview, the accused raised up his hands and took your face in them with a kiss of acceptance.

[usnewsaggregator-blog]

<em>The Atlantic</em> Daily: Help Shape the World

New Post has been published on http://usnewsaggregator.com/the-atlantic-daily-help-shape-the-world/

The Atlantic Daily: Help Shape the World

What We’re Following

New Allegations: The radio host Leeann Tweeden has accused Democratic Senator Al Franken of Minnesota of kissing her against her will in 2006, and released a disturbing photo in which Franken is shown grabbing at her breasts as she sleeps on a flight. Franken initially responded to the photo by stating, “It was clearly intended to be funny but wasn’t.” He joins a list of comedians who have used humor as an excuse for bad behavior. Shortly afterward, he released a longer apology and expressed his willingness to cooperate with an ethics investigation—the solution his colleagues are calling for, and one that may give Senate Democrats cover to avoid pushing Franken to resign.

Monetary Misdeeds? A federal judge declared a mistrial after jurors deadlocked in the case of Senator Bob Menendez, the New Jersey Democrat who was accused of granting official favors to a donor in exchange for gifts. Meanwhile, Bob Bauer, a former White House counsel to Barack Obama, argues that the private messages Donald Trump Jr. exchanged with WikiLeaks are evidence that the Trump team broke campaign-finance laws.

DNA Developments: A 44-year-old man with Hunter syndrome—a genetic disorder that causes breathing problems, developmental delay, and other symptoms—is the first patient to receive an experimental gene-editing treatment that could be used to cure a range of genetic diseases. And a different gene-editing technology could help New Zealand in an ambitious project to eradicate invasive mammal predators—but the plan could have dangerous consequences for the rest of the world.

—Rosa Inocencio Smith

Snapshot

A woman drives a child to school on a scooter on November 9, 2017, in Greater Noida, India, where severe air pollution, combined with annual temperature change, has covered the region in a thick layer of smog. More photos here. (R. S. Iyer / AP)

Evening Read

Nathan Perl-Rosenthal on Barbara Cooney, an author of children’s books:

Children’s books are more than just entertainment. They reflect how a society sees its young and itself. By shaping the attitudes and aspirations of children, they help shape the world those children will grow up to inherit. Barbara Cooney went on to have a long and celebrated career in American picture books. She illustrated or wrote some 100, including modern classics such as Miss Rumphius and Ox-Cart Man (which garnered her another Caldecott Medal, in 1980). Her books are still beloved, nearly two decades after her death, by readers who admire their visual charm and rich historical storytelling. But Cooney’s greatest gifts, manifest in her work from the start, are more profound. Her singular vision of young Americans and her unique ideas about how to write for them make her books more relevant to Americans today—and perhaps more necessary—than ever before.

Keep reading here, as Perl-Rosenthal describes what Cooney’s books can teach kids about moral courage.

What Do You Know … About Global Affairs?

Political tensions have boiled over in several countries in recent days. In Poland, independence-day celebrations were marred by a march that gathered the racist, anti-Muslim, and anti-Semitic elements of Europe’s extreme right—a movement that includes Poland’s governing Law and Justice Party. Kenya’s Parliament has taken an unscheduled recess after violence over the contested results of the August 8 election overshadowed an October 26 rerun. And in Zimbabwe, 93-year-old Robert Mugabe, who has been in power for 37 years, was put under house arrest by his military in an apparent coup.

Can you remember the other key facts from this week’s global coverage? Test your knowledge below:

1. As part of its Belt and Road Initiative, China is building transportation infrastructure in more than ____________ countries.

Scroll down for the answer, or find it here.

2. According to Burma’s national census, the country’s Muslim population has remained at about ____________ percent since the 1980s.

Scroll down for the answer, or find it here.

3. A new fashion trend started by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has made the ____________ a mark of political loyalty.

Scroll down for the answer, or find it here.

— Annabelle Timsit

Answers: 60 / 4 / blue plaid jacket

Urban Developments

Our partner site CityLab explores the cities of the future and investigates the biggest ideas and issues facing city dwellers around the world. Gracie McKenzie shares three of today’s top stories:

Map nerds: We’ve now got a newsletter just for you!

The Thompson Center captured Chicago’s imagination, if not its heart.Will officials scrap or save the city’s decrepit “starship”?

The outskirts of Paris have been called “no-go zones”—regions where no rules apply. But to residents, they’re neighborhoods that are stigmatized and neglected, and where government intervention is doing more harm than good.

For more updates from the urban world, subscribe to one of CityLab’s newsletters.

Reader Response

Christine Bader asks: “Is There Any Way to Be an Ethical Moviegoer in the Post-Weinstein Era?” A reader in the Atlantic Discussions group reflects:

I’m conflicted on this issue. On the one hand, it is satisfying to not contribute my money to the coffers of terrible people, but those dollars put my daughter through law school. She was a child actor of minor success. The residual income helps keep “the little people” afloat, so rigid boycotts affect more than just the studio heads/directors/producers/etc.

Another writes:

I own plenty of books by writers who were guilty of anything from murder (Louis Althusser strangled his wife, Anne Perry murdered her [friend’s] mother with a brick, etc.) to simply being complete assholes (V. S. Naipaul, for example). In fact, I suspect I’d have to throw out at least half of them if I insist on reading only writers who were good people … I think I’ll rather focus on whether these are good books, and leave the moral judgments to God or Twitter. The same goes for movies.

More reader comments here, and more on what outrage in the film industry could mean for the Oscars, in March, here.

Nouns

Slam dunk, overwhelming success, tipping point, teaching challenge.

Time of Your Life

Happy birthday to Grace (a year younger than James Bond); to Millie’s husband, Randy (twice the age of websites); from Mary to Rick (18 years older than the moon landing); to Laura’s mother and moral compass (a year younger than the board game Monopoly); to Ryan’s wife, Amber (the same age as the Michael Jackson album Thriller); to Kathy’s husband, Ted (born around the time John F. Kennedy was elected president); to John (a year younger than human spaceflight); to Jennifer’s partner, Cormac (13 years older than Buffy the Vampire Slayer); and to our global editor, Kathy (one-fifth the age of The Atlantic).

Do you or a loved one have a birthday coming up? Sign up for a birthday shout-out here, and click here to explore the Timeline feature for yourself.

Meet The Atlantic Daily’s team here, and contact us here.

Did you get this newsletter from a friend? Sign yourself up here.

Original Article:

Click here

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<em>The Atlantic</em> Daily: Help Shape the World

New Post has been published on http://usnewsaggregator.com/the-atlantic-daily-help-shape-the-world/

The Atlantic Daily: Help Shape the World

What We’re Following

New Allegations: The radio host Leeann Tweeden has accused Democratic Senator Al Franken of Minnesota of kissing her against her will in 2006, and released a disturbing photo in which Franken is shown grabbing at her breasts as she sleeps on a flight. Franken initially responded to the photo by stating, “It was clearly intended to be funny but wasn’t.” He joins a list of comedians who have used humor as an excuse for bad behavior. Shortly afterward, he released a longer apology and expressed his willingness to cooperate with an ethics investigation—the solution his colleagues are calling for, and one that may give Senate Democrats cover to avoid pushing Franken to resign.

Monetary Misdeeds? A federal judge declared a mistrial after jurors deadlocked in the case of Senator Bob Menendez, the New Jersey Democrat who was accused of granting official favors to a donor in exchange for gifts. Meanwhile, Bob Bauer, a former White House counsel to Barack Obama, argues that the private messages Donald Trump Jr. exchanged with WikiLeaks are evidence that the Trump team broke campaign-finance laws.

DNA Developments: A 44-year-old man with Hunter syndrome—a genetic disorder that causes breathing problems, developmental delay, and other symptoms—is the first patient to receive an experimental gene-editing treatment that could be used to cure a range of genetic diseases. And a different gene-editing technology could help New Zealand in an ambitious project to eradicate invasive mammal predators—but the plan could have dangerous consequences for the rest of the world.

—Rosa Inocencio Smith

Snapshot

A woman drives a child to school on a scooter on November 9, 2017, in Greater Noida, India, where severe air pollution, combined with annual temperature change, has covered the region in a thick layer of smog. More photos here. (R. S. Iyer / AP)

Evening Read

Nathan Perl-Rosenthal on Barbara Cooney, an author of children’s books:

Children’s books are more than just entertainment. They reflect how a society sees its young and itself. By shaping the attitudes and aspirations of children, they help shape the world those children will grow up to inherit. Barbara Cooney went on to have a long and celebrated career in American picture books. She illustrated or wrote some 100, including modern classics such as Miss Rumphius and Ox-Cart Man (which garnered her another Caldecott Medal, in 1980). Her books are still beloved, nearly two decades after her death, by readers who admire their visual charm and rich historical storytelling. But Cooney’s greatest gifts, manifest in her work from the start, are more profound. Her singular vision of young Americans and her unique ideas about how to write for them make her books more relevant to Americans today—and perhaps more necessary—than ever before.

Keep reading here, as Perl-Rosenthal describes what Cooney’s books can teach kids about moral courage.

What Do You Know … About Global Affairs?

Political tensions have boiled over in several countries in recent days. In Poland, independence-day celebrations were marred by a march that gathered the racist, anti-Muslim, and anti-Semitic elements of Europe’s extreme right—a movement that includes Poland’s governing Law and Justice Party. Kenya’s Parliament has taken an unscheduled recess after violence over the contested results of the August 8 election overshadowed an October 26 rerun. And in Zimbabwe, 93-year-old Robert Mugabe, who has been in power for 37 years, was put under house arrest by his military in an apparent coup.

Can you remember the other key facts from this week’s global coverage? Test your knowledge below:

1. As part of its Belt and Road Initiative, China is building transportation infrastructure in more than ____________ countries.

Scroll down for the answer, or find it here.

2. According to Burma’s national census, the country’s Muslim population has remained at about ____________ percent since the 1980s.

Scroll down for the answer, or find it here.

3. A new fashion trend started by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has made the ____________ a mark of political loyalty.

Scroll down for the answer, or find it here.

— Annabelle Timsit

Answers: 60 / 4 / blue plaid jacket

Urban Developments

Our partner site CityLab explores the cities of the future and investigates the biggest ideas and issues facing city dwellers around the world. Gracie McKenzie shares three of today’s top stories:

Map nerds: We’ve now got a newsletter just for you!

The Thompson Center captured Chicago’s imagination, if not its heart.Will officials scrap or save the city’s decrepit “starship”?

The outskirts of Paris have been called “no-go zones”—regions where no rules apply. But to residents, they’re neighborhoods that are stigmatized and neglected, and where government intervention is doing more harm than good.

For more updates from the urban world, subscribe to one of CityLab’s newsletters.

Reader Response

Christine Bader asks: “Is There Any Way to Be an Ethical Moviegoer in the Post-Weinstein Era?” A reader in the Atlantic Discussions group reflects:

I’m conflicted on this issue. On the one hand, it is satisfying to not contribute my money to the coffers of terrible people, but those dollars put my daughter through law school. She was a child actor of minor success. The residual income helps keep “the little people” afloat, so rigid boycotts affect more than just the studio heads/directors/producers/etc.

Another writes:

I own plenty of books by writers who were guilty of anything from murder (Louis Althusser strangled his wife, Anne Perry murdered her [friend’s] mother with a brick, etc.) to simply being complete assholes (V. S. Naipaul, for example). In fact, I suspect I’d have to throw out at least half of them if I insist on reading only writers who were good people … I think I’ll rather focus on whether these are good books, and leave the moral judgments to God or Twitter. The same goes for movies.

More reader comments here, and more on what outrage in the film industry could mean for the Oscars, in March, here.

Nouns

Slam dunk, overwhelming success, tipping point, teaching challenge.

Time of Your Life

Happy birthday to Grace (a year younger than James Bond); to Millie’s husband, Randy (twice the age of websites); from Mary to Rick (18 years older than the moon landing); to Laura’s mother and moral compass (a year younger than the board game Monopoly); to Ryan’s wife, Amber (the same age as the Michael Jackson album Thriller); to Kathy’s husband, Ted (born around the time John F. Kennedy was elected president); to John (a year younger than human spaceflight); to Jennifer’s partner, Cormac (13 years older than Buffy the Vampire Slayer); and to our global editor, Kathy (one-fifth the age of The Atlantic).

Do you or a loved one have a birthday coming up? Sign up for a birthday shout-out here, and click here to explore the Timeline feature for yourself.

Meet The Atlantic Daily’s team here, and contact us here.

Did you get this newsletter from a friend? Sign yourself up here.

Original Article:

Click here