#were really offended by this and it has less to do with Louis as a person or an idol than you'd think (in my totally valid opinion. that yo

[thelastattempt]

Mischaracterisation “what”? I have been in this fandom over 10 years. Of course I am nostalgic about young Louis but I love where he is now. In many ways he has not changed all that much. He’s older, wiser, has a few of the rough edges scraped off and has found his place in the world, but he isn’t all that different to young Louis except in superficial ways like the clothes he wore. The things he is passionate about haven’t changed much nor the way he relates to other people, even some of his likes and dislikes. I get that people who are newer in the fandom don’t have the same emotional attachment to images of young Louis but it’s rude to suggest that people who have been here longer shouldn’t be nostalgic about them. It’s part of our fandom history. Those photos evoke memories of more than just Louis. Also I don’t particularly care about 1D and I prefer this era when we have whole albums and tours with just Louis’s voice. I don’t follow the other members and wouldn’t care if Louis never mentioned the band again but he seems to see it as an important part of his journey. Every time he does promo there is this constant whining from people who joined the fandom post 1D when ever Louis mentions 1D. He is obviously proud of the band’s legacy and it gets very tiresome when newer fans moan when mentions them. That behaviour seems very controlling. So for the matter was your poll. If you think certain tags are inappropriate, complain about them not people reblogging old photos. And if you are following larries for goodness sake stop. Their vision of Louis has always been warped.

I'm sorry angry Tumblr anon, I missed this; and tbf I'm a little reluctant to even answer this because the poll seemed to make a lot of people savage for... Reasons, I'm sure.

I appreciate that you're nostalgic, and you think Louis hasn't changed that much. Okay. Your view is totally valid. It cringes me out and I disagree with you. My view is totally valid too.

You didn't like the poll and found it rude - okay. You didn't appreciate my view, yet sent me this and then (I think) another nudge to respond to it. Okay. I've responded to it. Cheers.

[josefavomjaaga]

Ida Saint-Elme about Junot

Some of the most colourful descriptions of Junot's decline in 1813, while he was gouvernor of the Illyrian provinces, actually comes from Ney-fangirl No. 1, La Contemporaine, Ida Saint-Elme. And while there seems to be some doubt about Ida really going to Illyria during the first half of 1813, what she describes may still be very true. Her editor was one Charles Nodier, who had been called to Trieste as a librarian by Junot's predecessor Bertrand and who must have been an eye-witness to most events. But before she goes into details about her pretended sojourn in Trieste, Ida gives a short description of Junot:

Much has been said about the Duc d'Abrantès. Few soldiers have deserved to be immortalized in the bulletins through more brilliant and more numerous feats of arms.

I'm not quite sure was she is referring to here. What were Junot's major feats of arms?

But it would be unfair to see him as nothing more than a common soldier. A writing master would have envied his pen and a fencing master his fine bearing under arms. He held himself marvellously in a salon; a little upright, a little tense, showing off with some affectation his height, his legs, those natural and brilliant advantages which were disputed in the army only by Count Pajol, his rival in bravery and loyalty. He fired weapons like M. de Bondy, and recognised only Fournier and Delmas as his rivals for the pistol. He had less successful ambitions as a dancer. I think that his merit in this area has been somewhat exaggerated and I do not see that his memory has much to gain from succeeding in the Anglaise and the Montferrine.

Like Chamillard, the minister of Louis XIV, Junot played billiards in a remarkable manner. When it came to billiards in particular, he should not have been offended by any rival claims. In this genre, he had tried everything, executed everything, perfected everything. He was prouder of it than of the most brilliant memory of his military successes. For example, it was to him that we owe the instrument that cuts the billiard cue without slowing down the game, which Bouvard had just brought to him from Paris. I have seen high lords, grave diplomats, bishops and princes compliment him on it.

She then continues with the, I believe, rather infamous anecdote of Junot drinking "sulphuric ether" at dinner.

[licncourt]

who do you think is more jealous/possessive louis or lestat (and how do you think their respective possessiveness manifests itself)?

I had to think about this one because neither one of them comes off as particularly jealous or possessive in the books (more just protective later on), but of the two I'd say Lestat just because he's so insecure. It's pretty clear that on the page he deflects those feelings by creating emotional distance with fake indifference and even cruelty, but there's a very needy side of him that comes out too.

He's so desperate for validation and love and to be Good Enough that I think he would feel threatened sometimes once they have an established relationship. Before they make things official in the PL era, it seems that Louis has the upper hand in a lot of ways. Lestat is the one running away from their relationship over and over, but crucially, Louis doesn't really chase him. Throughout the books, he's not a sure thing and the only love interest Lestat has who will readily reject him or set boundaries if it's the right thing to do.

Lestat already seems like the type to have fears about being replaced, especially when there are so many beautiful vampires in the world with less baggage than him, and that's not to mention Louis' ability to be alone if he wants to be (something Lestat is not good at). Louis might be "stolen away" or he might just become unhappy with their situation and leave like he did before. It's not out of the question in Lestat's eyes.

I can see Lestat getting clingy and a little bit hostile if someone was on Louis' business, definitely making himself as noticeable as possible and as handsy as he can get away with, both to stake a claim and keep Louis' attention on him. There might also be some passive aggressive bureaucratic nonsense if the offender was part of the court. The rage can usually be soothed with some visible hand holding and/or a public kiss though.

I do think Louis is more sure of himself considering how many times Lestat has come back to him and been incapable of staying away, but there's definitely some insecurity there with him too.

Louis might get his feathers ruffled if Lestat was getting hit on by someone particularly charming, especially if they were more personable and exciting than him (though Lestat is equally worried when Louis meets someone especially intellectual and refined). He knows how much Lestat loves novelty and adventure, plus he has a history of jumping ship to go after what's new and shiny.

Ultimately I think he'd be too dignified to act on the jealousy, but he gets very bent out of shape and acts all snippy when they're alone until Lestat pets him a little.

[dankusner]

GIMME SHELTER Who Is Meant To Throw Louis C.K. His Comeback Party?

a charming Shelter Island cottage, nicknamed Primrose and once lived in by Babe Ruth, l

5:50

You know what I would really like?

I would really like it if certain older male comedians could just stop freaking whining all of the time about how it’s just not fair that people’s taste in comedy is changing with the times for the very first time in all of history.

Earlier this month we had Jerry Seinfeld out here talking about how you can’t make edgy shows like “Seinfeld” and “Mary Tyler Moore” anymore because of the “extreme Left and PC crap, and people worrying so much about offending other people” in the same damn interview in which he explained that George Costanza, a character based on Larry David, with a father played by Jerry Stiller, had to be made Italian because the president of NBC and noted “Saved By the Bell” guest star Brandon Tartikoff was concerned that the show would be “too Jewish” for Middle America.

(Is this yet another way in which Fran Drescher is a radical?)

He also complained about how you couldn’t do certain episodes of “Seinfeld” now.

To be fair, that’s very true. The Chinese restaurant episode would be about three minutes long now that we all have cell phones.

Then, this week we were treated to Bill Maher and Bill Burr (whom I generally like!) sounding off about how unfair it is that Louis C.K. is still canceled and how “people” need to welcome him back.

To refresh your memory: For years, Louis C.K. was known to ask up-and-coming female comedians if he could take out his dick and masturbate in front of them. It was an open secret in the comedy scene. It was reported as a very obvious blind item by Gawker in 2012 and was brought up as a non-blind-item multiple times afterwards throughout the years (and C.K. was repeatedly asked about it as well).

It didn’t become a thing that anyone actually cared about, however, until #MeToo happened and The New York Times did an exposé in 2017.

“Don’t get me started on that,” Maher told Burr, in regards to C.K. “Isn’t it time everyone just went ‘Okay, it wasn’t a cool thing to do, but it’s been long enough and welcome back!’”

Who is it, specifically, that is supposed to do this? Everyone? Like, are we all, collectively, as a people, supposed to get together and throw Louis C.K. a ReDebutante ball to reintroduce him to society? Or is it just women in general? Female comedians? Barbie?

“They took $50 million, I think they punished him,” Burr added. To be clear, no one “took” $50 million from him in some class action suit, so I assume he’s referring to the $35 million he said he lost when his movie got pulled on account of people being grossed out by his behavior.

“Enough!” Maher added. “I mean for Christ’s sake, it’s not the end of the world. People have done so much worse things and gotten less. There’s no rhyme or reason to the #MeToo-type punishments.”

Okay, but what if it’s not a fucking “punishment”? What if some of us are simply repulsed by the idea of a man who feels so free to ask women he has no existing romantic relationship with if he can masturbate in front of them? Because I will tell you, I don’t hear those stories and just think “Burn the witch!” — I hear them and I feel tired. I feel nauseated. I feel fucking annoyed.

I don’t really feel like laughing. Especially when there are so many people out there who actually do make me laugh and whom I would prefer to give my money, attention and support to. Is that allowed?

For the record, Louis C.K. is hardly being punished. The New York Times article about him came out in November of 2017, and by August of 2018 he was back doing comedy, with the support of an absolute shit ton of his celebrity friends. He won a Grammy, in 2022, for Best Comedy Album … for his comedy album about being cancelled. He’s been on tour, he’s put out four comedy specials, one of which was a live taping of his sold out show at Madison Square Garden.

If that’s “being canceled,” sign me up, because I’d say he’s doing okay! In fact, I would say that he is doing much better than the vast majority of people out there who have never just come out and asked anyone if they could masturbate in front of them before.

But it’s not really about that, is it? No one is worried about him starving to death, no one is worried about his ability to make money, they’re not even really worried about his ability to do comedy — because let’s be real, there is a built-in audience for men with such “credentials.”

Hell, half percent of Bill Maher’s entire career at this point is literally just whining about this shit (the other half being whining about college students and trans people). If it weren’t for cancel culture, he wouldn’t have no culture at all.

To his credit, Bill Burr did point out to Maher that people don’t really, actually get canceled anymore (if they ever really did), which Maher was not at all interested in hearing — insisting, in a truly incredible display of self-awareness, that if either of them said ever anything wrong they could lose their careers “in two minutes.”

Donate Just Once!

The idea of “cancel culture” has allowed a lot of people to give themselves passes on bad behavior or to explain away why they didn’t stay a huge celebrity forever. It’s not that they really did anything wrong, it’s not that they repulsed people to the point where they just weren’t interested in watching them do stand-up or star in movies or host late night shows, it’s that people are hopping on a cool bandwagon and destroying their lives because it’s trendy. It’s like saying that people don’t like you because they’re “just jealous.”

Bill Maher has an absolutely massive platform. He is absolutely free, if he likes, to invite Louis C.K. to be on his show — which you will notice he has not done since 2011.

Who’s doing the cancel culture now?

PREVIOUSLY:

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[fillyoursoulxx]

Teasing. Laughing. Silence. It was a bit of a pattern between them and it wasn't something he hated. Not really. He'd spent years in this kinda...holding sequence, acknowledged but never taken seriously. Forgotten but existing like some kinda faint echo until well, until he made himself known again. It'd repeat. Over and over and over. And yeah, there were times he felt like ditching it altogether. Times he had because yeah no, not even he could sit around just pining forever. He had to live his life to some existent. He did and if this didn't work out? Ok. He would keep on keeping on. But it was hard not to be a little optimistic given how fucking well he was doing. Maybe Eva could be a mystery to some, but he had her various smiles memorized, the way her micro expressions shifted when she was frustrated etched in his brain and that oh so rare hint of genuine surprise? He loved to hear that.

So he joked, about how under the radar he could move, about his various and totally not stalkerish 'notes' on her favorite sandwich combinations, they laughed, and then came the silence. The kind that twisted up his insides so tight he wanted to burst before just-- giving into it. Easing into it because yes. He wanted this. Every little gift, song, smile, compliment he'd ever directed her way led to this exact moment. His one fucking shot. But in all of that...patience. That's what he'd learned. Patience and the confidence that even if something didn't turn out, something else would. So he ignored his nerves and let himself sit in it, the moment, enjoying his sandwich and a tiny bottle of fireball, eyes on the skyline as the sun fades and the deep oranges and reds give way darker purples and blues.

It's not until she finally speaks he glances her way again, a chuckle falling from his lips. "Why not both?" I mean, if she was magic it stood to reason they could be. And maybe it was big headed, Louis knew he was too. He was a fucking catch and just because no one else had realized that yet, like really realized? Well, didn't make it any less fact. Just meant people could be pretty dense. Or blind. Or both. It was her next question that gave him pause and he took a moment. He wanted to think about it. She deserved that didn't she? An honest answer and those nerves sucker punched him in the gut, reminding him that if he answered wrong that could be it. KO. Game over.

So yeah. He was quiet, his head tilted, thoughtful expression on his face before he finally hummed and looked her in the eye,

"I don't know,"

Simple. Honest. But again, she deserved a bit more than that. "I wish I had some grandiose speech or answer, but I don't. I like you. I know that. I wanna fuck you. And I know, that's really fucking forward, but it's true. But it's more than that too. Like-- ok. Stay with me and stay un-offended, ok?" he paused long enough to angle himself toward her a bit more, knees brushing, "So. there's this cat. It's this beautiful, independent thing and it lives near by. It always has. It on one side, you on the other. You can see it, leave it treats, give it a name, call to it. You can watch it take care of other kittens and maybe sometimes, if your lucky, it notices you too. But you've seen it and you know-- you know how it moves. Meows. How it hunts. But as much as you want to you can't touch it. You can't know it, can't build a bond any deeper than what it allows you to see. But you know seeing it, being near it even without all that makes your day so much better. And all you can think about is how much better it could be to interact, really see it and have it see you and be--" He laughed, palming his face cause yeah, he was rambling and not only that but comparing her to some feral cat? It felt stupid. But really he couldn't-- it wasn't something he could articulate any other way.

"Just-- Something about you lights me the fuck up. I don't know why. Maybe it's magic. I don't know. But I want to. I wanna figure it out and that takes knowing you, not just this image I've got of you. And I can't do that if I don't try. Does any of that make sense?"

continued from here because tumblr is a bitch / @fillyoursoulxx

"You've given this a lot of thought," she said, mock-concern on her features. "I mean, I know your sisters are a lot but they're not that bad. I'm keeping one eye open around you from now on." The silly back and forth is another plus, another tick in the good column on his behalf because she couldn't joke like this with a stranger. A stranger didn't know her history like he did, even if it was more of a spectator versus an actual contributor. Though any premeditated murderous fantasies are gone when she hears the music and she can't help but hum along with it. "I didn't know you were capable of playing something at a normal listening level," she teases, letting him know that yes, she remembered.

The funny thing about all of this is that at the time, she didn't give a second though to the things that he did for her. He wasn't bowing at her feet, but there had been song dedications and corny jokes, all things she had attributed to a silly teenaged crush, and it was all things that she had forgotten the second they happened. But now, it felt like memory after memory was being pulled from the depths of her mind, remembering the moments he did this or said that. It was a surreal feeling to say the least. And it was that same feeling when he pulled out the food. "You remembered my favorite sandwich?" she asks, a hint of disbelief to her tone. Eva can't remember the last time a boyfriend had remembered the tiniest of details about her, but she chalked it up to the history and afternoons spent when she'd help Max babysit him and Dallas and they'd make sandwiches after school. Strangely, the sandwich felt better than any meal a restaurant could prepare.

She pulled the sandwich out of the plastic and took a bite, letting out a hum of satisfaction. "You even put honey," she groaned, looking over at him and when did he get so close? The arm behind her head did not go unnoticed but she didn't say anything as she took another bite, simply enjoying this moment. If she thought too long about it, she'd freak out and run away, not believing how well he was actually doing on this not-date. Peeking into the basket, she pulls out a bottle of water and, after a few seconds of rummaging, finds a mini Cinnamon Whiskey. "I wonder if these two go together," she mused, popping the top and drinking half the bottle before taking another bite of sandwich. It was definitely a combination but not an unpleasant one. The bottles reminded her more of his sisters than him, rummaging through their uncle's liquor cabinet, trying to keep things looking as if they were untouched. Failing more than succeeding at times.

So caught up in the food and the music and actually having a nice moment with him, she barely registers when he talks, though she actually listens this time, no quick jab or teasing comment falling from her lips. His words are deep, referencing her earlier thoughts about the fireflies, and she doesn't respond right away. Instead, she eats the remainder of her sandwich, and it's not until the song is over does she say anything at all. "Are you trying to say that I'm magic?" she asks as she tucks her trash back into the basket and she turns her body so she's facing him versus sitting side by side. "Or that there could be magic between us?" Maybe it's just the small whisper of alcohol running through her system because of the mini bottle, or it's the magic they both have spoke about, but she feels lighter, like she might actually believe there's something more out there. "I have something I've been wanting to ask you since you asked me on this not-date. Why have you had a crush on me for so long? Like ... is this some type of self-challenge that you need to conquer? Notch in your bed post type deal? Which I am totally not offended by, by the way." She reaches out, hands on his arms to assure him as much before she pulls back. "I'm just curious."

[tommodirection]

Little Sister

Harry Styles x Tomlinson! Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: swearing, playful mentions of Larry

Masterlist

A/N: Heylo! I hope you enjoy this! I’ve been working on this for about a month now, never being able to finish it, but I decided to sit down and finish it tonight instead of wallowing in self-pity! The Larry mention at the end is meant to be funny and playful, not something to take seriously! Thank you and have a nice day! ❤️💕🥰

—

When your brother went to audition for the X-Factor in 2010, you expected him to come home after, maybe with a signed record deal, maybe not, but home nonetheless.

Instead, he was put into a boy band with four other boys, and moved out. Your mother was proud, of course as anyone would be, but that also meant her oldest child had left the nest.

That left you, now the oldest in the house, and your four younger sisters. Your mum was handling it the best she could, but with Mark out of the house constantly, it got stressful for her.

You didn’t like Mark that much, sure, he was nice, and he treated your mother alright, he just didn’t seem like a commitment kind of guy to you.

You were adopted shortly after your mum left Louis’s father. Mark was accepting of the fact that she already had two kids, but became a bit offended when she took your side in an argument instead of one of their kids.

You loved all your siblings equally, well, Louis a bit more than the other girls, but you still loved them no matter how their father acted.

When Louis left, you were left to help your mother with the other girls, Mark not being much help. You were often left to help them get ready for school, get ready for bed, and you even had to run errands for your mother.

Since you were only 16, and hadn’t gotten a driver’s license, you had to walk almost everywhere, but you didn’t mind, not when you were helping your mother.

Having a brother who had recently become a famous member of a boy band, also meant you had to watch all the girls at your school drool over him. This also meant that a lot more people were trying to be friendly to you.

Most of the girls at your school loved Louis, probably because they thought they had the best chance with him, not that they had any chance.

However, you preferred Harry. You always had a soft spot for sweet boys with curly hair, but this time felt different. It probably was just a silly little crush, you’d obsess for a few weeks and then get over it.

You were so, so wrong.

You watched your brother and his mates smash their way through the charts for the next two years, becoming the best boy band of the generation.

The whole family was immensely proud of him, even Mark. You were particularly proud of Harry, though the rest of your family didn’t really care.

The small crush hadn’t faded, instead it had grown in the past two years, each time you saw him on a photo your brother sent, or on TV, you flushed and your heart started racing.

He was just perfect. Perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect dimples, perfect smile, perfect lips, perfect everything.

It honestly kind of upset you sometimes.

There you were, the sister of one of his best mates, same age as him too, and yet you had never met him.

That all changed when the band went to Madison Square Garden at the end of the year.

Since you were eighteen and finished with college, you were allowed to go with your mother to go see Louis perform.

As you and your mother approached the stadium, you felt a wave of awe wash over you. Your brother’s face was on the fucking front of Madison Square Garden. He was getting paid to be here.

Where the fuck did you go wrong?

The driver that Louis had hired pulled up in the front, allowing you both to get out along with Liam’s mum, Karen, who was a lovely lady.

You all climbed out of the car onto the busy New York City street, people busling past your trio to file into the large arena.

Your mother grabbed your hand and Karen’s as well, pulling you both into line.

Meanwhile, the boys were sitting in front of the camera, discussing their feelings about the upcoming show. Zayn and Liam were currently in the dressing room, and Niall was finishing his dinner, so Louis and Harry were left to be interviewed.

“You know, this is a big show for us, obviously,” Harry said, trying not to be gesticulative as he spoke, nerves buzzing through his body.

“Yeah, of course it’s big cos it’s MSG, but this is also the only one that all of us have at least one family member in the audience. Liam, Niall, and Zayn have their mums, Harry has his mum and stepdad, and my mum and sister are coming, which is of course rattling, you want them to be proud of you,” Louis said, leaning back on the couch.

Harry paused for a moment, “Wait, which sister?”

“Y/N, she’s finished with school, so mum let her come down, she’s ecstatic,” Louis smiled and Harry nodded, trying to keep a straight face for the camera.

He had never met you, he’s only heard stories from Louis, and seen pictures that his mum always sent him of all the girls.

He thought you were adorable, who wouldn’t? He wouldn’t call it a crush, he hadn’t even met you. However, there was definitely something about you that drew him near you.

Once you had gotten inside, Karen insisted on going to buy something. The concert was starting in a few minutes, so there weren’t many people at the tables, most already in their seats.

She was beaming, looking at all of the stuff with her son’s face on it, your mother bearing a similar smile. Karen spotted the cardboard cutouts of the boys. And her eyes lit up.

She rushed to buy one, your mother chuckling, but you could tell she was contemplating on buying one herself.

The pair began to walk away, the camera crew following them, but you stayed behind, stepping up to the cashier.

Your mother must’ve noticed you weren’t there, as seconds later she was at your side, rubbing your arm lightly.

“Whatcha buying?” She asked, humming as she moved her hand to your upper back.

You felt yourself flush as you ordered the Harry cutout. Your mother was laughing her arse off, clutching her stomach as she doubled over.

You felt embarrassed, but understood her reaction. Karen turned around to see the commotion and saw the cashier handing you the Harry cutout. She gave a light chuckle and waved you both over.

Your mother pretended to wipe a tear from her cheek, smirking at you, “Aw, my baby’s in love!” She teased and you bit your lip.

“Shut up,” you mumbled weakly.

The camera crew saw the interaction, getting the whole thing on tape. As you passed the camera, you gave it a small, awkward smile, stuffing the Harry under your arm.

The show was amazing, you didn’t expect any less.

The boys were energetic, entertaining the audience as they jumped and ran around the stage, clearly enjoying themselves.

You were placed in the front, along with the other mothers and Robin, Harry’s step-father. During Louis’ solos, you and your mother would cheer the loudest, the others doing the same for their respective child.

Each boy came to wave to all of you, grinning as they sang. Louis just made a funny face at you and your mother, almost missing his cue.

The other boys did similar things, running to wave while they were singing, but Harry hadn’t come over yet, something that was clearly disturbing Anne.

During a brief break in between songs, Harry came to sit on the edge of the stage in front of all of you. The fans surrounding you all were screaming, some laughing when he gave a bashful wave.

He brought the microphone to his mouth, interrupting Liam’s monologue.

“That’s my mummy!” He pointed to Anne, making her giggle as he bounced up and down where he sat. “Hi mummy!” He yelled, giving an over enthusiastic wave, the audience loving every second.

A grin spread across your face, watching the interaction warmed your heart. Anne was loving it, she blew Harry a kiss, and he caught it, pressing it to kiss cheek.

“I love you mum,” he said, seriously. The audience and all the boys on stage letting out a sweet ‘aw’.

“I love you, Hazza!” Anne tried to yell above the audience, her voice being drowned out, but Harry understood her perfectly.

He turned his attention to the rest of you, “Hi everyone!” He waved again, his grin still just as wide. His eyes scanned over each of you, and his met yours. “Y/N? You’re Lou’s sister, right?” He asked and you nodded, trying to ignore your mum poking your arm. “Damn!” He yelled and you felt yourself gaping, Louis standing up quickly.

“Excuse me?” He asked, in mock offense.

Harry realized his mistake, “No, no, no! That came out wrong,” he turned to you, “I didn’t mean any disrespect, I just mean that I imagined you being like,” he held up his hand a few feet off the ground, “this tall based on how Lou described you, and that is certainly not the case,” he affirmed and Louis playfully rolled his eyes.

“Sure,” he dragged it out, “I’m sure that’s what you meant,” he joked, and Harry stood, brushing off his bum.

“Anyways! On with the show!”

—

A few months later, the boys sat huddled around a table in the film director’s conference room.

The film was finally completed, and the boys were invited to watch it and suggest changes. The boys were a bit into the film now, mostly taking the piss out of it and teasing each other.

Then came the footage from Madison Square Garden.

The boys stayed silent the whole time that the mothers were speaking, being quiet for the first time since the film started.

After showing the mothers’ thoughts on them performing at MSG, it cut to the interviews backstage. It was mostly just the boys’ preparation. Harry and Louis’ interview showed up, and the teasing started right up again.

“Louis, did you see the way his face lit up when you mentioned Y/N?” Liam said through laughter, Zayn and Niall laughing with him.

Harry was glaring at the boys, trying to avoid looking at Louis, a furious blush coating his cheeks. Louis was trying to hide his smile, looking at Harry out of the corner of his eye.

Truth was, he didn’t mind at all. Sure, it was a little weird, but he knew Harry, and Louis knew about your little crush on him, your mum had told him about it and had even sent pictures of the Harry cutout, now set up in your room. He would rather you date Harry than some random kid from Doncaster. You and Harry would work well together, he may even dare to say you were perfect for each other. There was only one problem; you hadn’t met.

The boys had finally calmed down and the rest of the film continued. While Liam and Niall were talking about the time they had to be smuggled through a bread van, Louis took his chance. He leaned over, catching Harry’s attention, “Don’t listen to them, if I’m being honest with you, I wouldn’t mind if you dated my sister,” he whispered, Harry immediately getting flustered.

“I, what? I don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re mad,” Harry mumbled and Louis chuckled, patting Harry’s knee.

“It’s alright lad, no need to explain yourself.”

The topic wasn’t brought up again until the movie came out.

Well, it technically hadn’t come out yet. Each boy was allowed to stream it at their home, they were sent digital copies. Louis had invited you over to watch it a week before it officially came out, and of course you had said yes.

You decided to spend the week with him, needing a break from managing the house with your mother. You had felt guilty, seeing as it was now her alone, Mark had left early on in your brother’s departure. Although, Dan, her new fiancé, was there to help out a bit.

You pulled up outside his apartment building, parking and grabbing your bag from the passenger’s seat. You made your way into the apartment, keeping your head down as you knocked on the door.

Louis opened it, throwing his arms open with a large grin on his face. You set your bag down, giggling as you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

“I missed you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I missed you too,” he said, swaying with you in the doorway for a moment. He pulled away, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited someone else over too!”

“I don’t mind,” you said, squinting at your brother, why was he being so cheeky about it?

“Great! Alright, come on in! Harry’s on the couch, and before we watch the film, we’re gonna watch interviews!” He ushered you inside, grabbing your bag.

You stopped once you had entered the house, turning back to Louis, “Hold, go back there for a second, did you say Harry’s here?” You asked, quickly panicking.

You were answered by a voice behind you, “Louis, is your guest…” Harry trailed off as you turned around. He gaped for a moment, clearing his throat quickly, “Oh, uhm, hi Y/N, Louis didn’t say you were coming,” his eyes left you to quickly glance at Louis.

“Hi,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek.

It was quiet for a few moments, and Louis interjected, “Ready to watch the interviews?” He asked, not even waiting for an answer as he dragged both of you to the living room.

He sat down on the couch, pulling you and Harry on either side of him. “They sent me a weird version they made that has the interviews first, and the movie immediately after,” he leaned over and picked up a napkin he had set on the table.

On it were two times stamps, one that was pretty early on, and one that was presumably later in the film. He scrolled on the TV for a moment, getting the setting right and pressing start once the DVD was processed.

He began to fast forward through most of the interviews, you were a bit confused when he came to a stop in the middle of the interviews. You were about to say something, but he turned the volume all the way up, pressing play.

“If you had to set up your sister with one of the band, and you could trust them, who would it be?” The interviewer asked, leaning forwards as she spoke.

Liam and Zayn erupted, “None, none of them!” They both chided, clear looks of disgust on their face.

Louis sat contemplating for a moment, both Liam and Zayn looking at him with knowing smiles, “I have an ideal pair in mind, I’m not going to verify who, the lads already know who it is, my sister doesn’t, but I’ve got a plan,” he smirked, nodding enthusiastically.

The Louis next to you looked at his napkin again, fast forwarding it again, this time you were sat for a little bit longer, the tension in the room growing thicker. Both you and Harry had a feeling that he was talking about you guys, but neither of you dared say anything.

He unpaused it again, this time it was the actual film, iit showed you and your mum, along with Karen, it was the MSG footage.

You began panicking, trying to grab the remote from Louis, “Louis, Louis, turn it off, turn it off!” You yelled as you tackled him, reaching for the remote he was holding high.

He ducked to his side, quickly stuffing the remote down his trousers as the film continued playing. He gave you a triumphant smirk, but you narrowed your eyes, “don’t think I won’t look in there,” you threatened, and he shot up, running to the washroom, giggling the whole way.

You let out a grunt of defeat, collapsing on the couch and shrinking in on yourself, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, ‘m so so sorry Harry,” you grumbled, sinking further into the couch.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “It’s alright, love. I’ve already seen the movie,” he admitted and you let out an exasperated sigh.

“Shit,” you mumbled.

“Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assured, you felt him put his hand on your knee, making you flush even further. “In fact, if the roles were reversed, I probably would’ve bought a cutout of you too,” he began rubbing a small circle on your knee.

You removed your hands from your face at his confession, looking at him in confusion, “Wait, really?”

“Of course! When we first got together as a band, you called Louis, and he stepped outside for a minute to talk to you, when he got back, he had the biggest smile on his face. At first we thought that it was a girl he’d been talking to, but then he told us it was his sister, and I just had to know more about the girl who made him smile that big. He began talking about you, and about your other family of course, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how he described you, then he showed me pictures, and you just blew me away, as cheeky as it sounds,” he laughed lightly, your eyes traced his profile, “then I saw you at MSG, and I was even more shocked, you were much more mature than the last picture Louis had showed us. I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl who smiled brighter than sun, the one who loved her family more than anything, the one who could make anyone laugh just by speaking, and I hadn’t even met you! But now I’ve actually met you, and even seeing you wrestled with Louis earlier, it confirmed everything I already thought.” He paused, his eyes opening quickly, “I-Uhm, if you don’t like any of that, you can just ignore all of it.”

You sat in disbelief, joy overwhelming you, “Wait, so you like me?”

“I mean, yeah, if that whole speech wasn’t convincing enough, I can show you my diary,” he offered, and you put a finger to his lips.

“As tempting as that is, I really want to kiss you right now, is that alright?” You asked, scooting closer to him on the couch.

“Yeah, that would be amazing,” he giggled, placing his hand on your cheek as your lips met.

It was awkward at first, you were both angled on the couch, neither position comfortable. You shifted closer, slowly crawling onto his lap, quickly pulling away to make sure it was okay with him. When he gave you a subtle nod, you connected your lips again, his sweet, oddly sugary, plush lips. You ran your fingers through his curls, quickly tangling them. He put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as you continued to kiss. It was heavenly, everything you had ever dreamed of. Of course, your paradise had to be interrupted by something.

“Oi Oi!” Louis yelled from the hallway, “I get you like each other and all, but this is my couch, come on lads!” He complained, causing you to hurry off of Harry’s lap, taking a seat beside him. He playfully scoffed, pointing a finger at you, “Now, I’m going to get some food from the kitchen, no snogging while I’m gone!” He demanded as he walked out of the room.

You and Harry giggle to yourself, he turned to you, a playful smile adorning his face, “y’know, now that I’m dating a Tomlinson, maybe the Larries will finally back off,” he joked, earning a chuckle from you.

“Oh darling, you’re forgetting one thing,” you chided, he turned to you, obviously confused. “I’m the biggest Larrie of them all,” you teased.

“Oh shut it!” Both he and Louis yelled.

Permanent Taglist (If you want to be added just let me know!): @notsosmexy @ladytommomomoa @franchesca-791 @alwayshave-faith @bxtchboy69

[emisonme]

Lauren’s story...............

Guys, I can completely understand the way some of you have been personally offended, and down right hurt, by Lauren's words. But, at the same time, one needs to understand, what was actually happening, and the timing of everything. Not only the time line of her story, but the timing of the podcast.

She was talking about her feelings, toward Camren shippers, back in 2013 and 2014. Lucy very well MAY have been the friend that helped Lauren realize she was into girls, but she WAS NOT the girl that helped her accept herself. If you pay attention, it became obvious, Lauren had grown more accepting of her sexuality, BEFORE Lucy came back into the picture.

Back in 2013/2014, Lauren was still fighting her true feelings. She was doing exactly what I said she would say...Just making out with her friend, because that what friends do. No big deal. Every "straight" girl does it, right? She was "justifying" her actions, because she couldn't control her desires.

We all know, Lauren had a really bad bout, of internalized homophobia. She couldn't control her desires, and she HATED herself for it. It was easier to BLAME Camren shippers, than herself. "We" are the ones who put those desires in her head, because she thought she was pretty damn good at hiding her truth. "We" were seeing something that wasn't there, and putting thoughts in her head she didn't want. It BECAME "our" fault, because she couldn't BLAME herself.

The truth is, Lauren didn't hate herself for liking girls. She hated herself, for not accepting that part of herself. She hated herself, for giving societal norms that much power over her. She hated herself, because she couldn't control her desires, much less hide them. We had nothing to do with it, but like I said, it was easier to blame us, than to put blame where it belonged....homophobia, heteronormativity, and herself.

We are a part of her coming out story, but she can't tell us the WHOLE truth. She had to give Lucy all the credit, (without even saying her name) because saying that we saw her truth and accepted her truth, before she was willing to accept it herself, would have given validation to Camren...Because it was Camren that made us see her truth, NOT Laucy!!!

She blamed us, for making her feel like a "predator", for connecting her to someone that was "NOT queer" (lol). Honestly, that is the biggest load of bullshit, I've ever heard. Shippers don't make predators, we make art. Be it written, or visual, we made some wonderful art....That Lauren obviously consumed herself, or she wouldn't know so damn much about it.

IF, and it's a big IF, Lauren EVER actually felt like a damn "predator", it was her inability to take her eyes off of Camila, and particularly her ass, that would have made her feel that way, not us. (Camila enjoyed it, and stared right back. She loved Lauren's ass, as well.)

Instead of BLAMING us, she should have been thanking us. WE are the ones who accepted her, and loved her, even though she couldn't accept and love herself. But, like I said, she couldn't do that, because it would have VALIDATED CAMREN.

What she should have done, is not mention Camila, at all. The fact she CHOSE to say Camila's name, and NOT Lucy's, says a lot about what that whole thing was meant to accomplish.

She gave Lucy all the wonderful credit, then said how damn TOXIC that "relationship" was. She even "explained" why her mother didn't approve of Lucy. It was a load of shit, but needed to be "explained". No mother in their right mind, that accepts lovingly her daughters sexuality, would disapprove of her "relationship" with a woman, then turn around and approve of her "relationship" with a gang-banger that smokes weed like a forest fire, and snorts coke like a vacuum.

The whole damn point of mentioning Camila, by name, and not the name of the woman who had supposedly made Lauren accept herself, was to get the media's attention...and cross-promotion.

She didn't mention Lucy's name, because she didn't want to give Lucy any media attention. Lucy became Lauren's version of "that girl". (which should tell us something) She mentioned Camila by name, so the media would jump all over it. And it did. It served it's purpose. It cross-promoted BOTH of them. In turn, it also put a spotlight on Camila, and her current PR stunt. If Lauren says Camila "isn't queer", that must mean she's "straight" (LOL). That must mean shmila is real, right? (LMFAO)

This whole thing is a big load of bullshit, but it had it's purpose. That being said, I can understand why so many of you are upset, and hurt. It didn't affect me that way, because I see it for what it is, PR. With this type of PR, it takes the focus off of any relationship between Lauren and Camila, and puts the blame on "us" for "destroying" their beautiful friendship. This same tactic has been used multiple times before. The best example of this is Louis and Harry. THEY blamed the shippers for destroying their wonderful friendship, as well. Like I said before, it's a tried and true Industry tactic. They'll keep using it, as long as it keeps working... just as they do PR "relationships".

Lauren mentioning Lucy would not have gotten the desired media hype, that mentioning Camila would, and did. She had to do so, in a way that wouldn't validate Camren. That's what we got. Does it hurt? You bet your ass it does!!! Does it piss me off? Abso-fucking-lutely!!! Welcome to PR 101!!! IT SUCKS ASS!!!!!

[zillennial97]

My All-Time Favorites | Larry Fanfic Recs

*these works are the closest to my heart and my best recommendations*

Hiding Place by alivingfire | 365k | Explicit

Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance.

Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

And Then a Bit by infinitelymint | 158k | Explicit

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy | 149k | Explicit

Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes.- A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry | 136k | Explicit

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | Mature

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Fucking Animals by pointerbrother | 116k | Explicit

“Just, off the record,” she says, voice lower, eyes sharper, crook of her mouth quirking up a little, “don’t you ever miss it? A good knot? You must.”

Louis blinks and then swallows, thickly. “No,” he exclaims, offended that she’d even ask, “I love my husband. And anyway, how could I miss something I’ve never had?”

---

Louis is the frontman of an equal rights-movement, author of a book about beta-omega marriage and the struggles of being born and boxed into a personality you don't necessarily feel you fit. The notion that an omega must want to be with an alpha or else he or she's just settling for less, is bullshit.

But, fucking hell.

we're not friends, we could be anything by nooelgallagher, yoursongonmyheart | 115k | Explicit

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry. “What that supposed to be a fucking joke?”

Harry narrows his eyes right back. “It was a good joke.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Jokes require laughter, Curls.” Louis glances down at Harry’s thighs again, Christ. “Your pants must be so tight they’re restricting airflow to your brain.”

Harry wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Pretty sure yoga is supposed to increase airflow, blood flow, and all that,” he responds dryly, finally jumpstarting himself and walking away from Louis towards his own bedroom.

Louis can’t help but stare at his broad back, still sheen with drying sweat, and his perky bum in the tight yoga pants.

Louis swallows. Christ.

...Or, the one where Harry and Louis are unlikely uni flatmates who definitely don't like each other and definitely won't fall in love (even if Liam and Niall think otherwise).

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | Mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey | 113k | Explicit

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong?

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey | 95k | Explicit

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

This Wicked Game by cherrystreet | 70k | Explicit

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

Christmas-ing With You by dolce_piccante | 65k | Mature

Two writers from Loving Heart Television, the premiere network for holiday romance films, find that, sometimes, love is not only in their works of fiction.

Barefoot in Blue Jeans by indiaalphawhiskey | 24k | Explicit

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.

475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.

[shinazugawaswife]

If I Could Fly - Harry Styles

This was just a cute little thing I had in mind and I really didn’t use that much time on it so it’s not perfect, but I still think it’s sweet and I hope you like it<3

Summary: Harry has to do a show on your anniversary, but he still finds a way to express his love to you

This is just pure fluff

Gif’s not mine, creds to the owner

You and Harry had been together for a little less than a year when you wrote If I Could Fly together. You were sitting by the Piano Harry had placed in his living room around 2 am and the song almost wrote itself as you looked into each other's eyes, feeling like the world was yours to conquer. Maybe a little bit of alcohol had been consumed through the night, but when the song was finished after approximately thirty minutes and you stared into the green forest of Harry's eyes and he the blue ocean of yours (I'm really sorry if you don't have blue eyes I just thought it fitted), you were both sure that you wanted to spend a very long time together.

You wrote songs for a living. Writing them, selling them, and then often seeing them on the hit lists a couple of months later. You were talented and you had written many songs throughout the last couple of years, but never had you written a song with as much emotion as when you and Harry made If I Could Fly.

When Harry's fellow bandmates asked him one night about a week later if he had any new songs up his sleeve, Harry played them the beautiful song the two of you had written together. Both Louis, Niall, and Liam absolutely loved it and immediately started trying to convince him to put it on the album they were in the middle of making. Of course, they would've respected if Harry said no because they knew the song meant a lot to him. Actually, the song meant absolutely everything to Harry, and that was why he wanted it on the album. Because he was so in love with you that he wanted to scream it so loud that the whole world would've been able to hear. It had been physically impossible for him to do that though, so what better way to tell the world than through a song?

You were excited to see all One Direction's fans react to the song and once it was released many of them quickly figured out that it was about you and Harry's relationship because your names were the only ones on the credits given to the writers of the song.

Now, five years later, you and Harry still loved each other more than anything and you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together. You'd had If I Could Fly on repeat for many occasions during the last five years and the song had never failed to make you smile. That's why whenever you were sad you put on the song, whenever you and Harry were in a fight you put on the song, whenever he was on the other side of the world and you missed him like crazy you put on the song, whenever he was only ten minutes away but you still missed him you put the song on, but during the last scenario you would usually play the song on the way to his house.

Harry would do the same, but he would be listening to an old recording on his phone of the day you'd written the song together where your voice would echo beautifully through the speakers instead of the album version with his old bandmates.

The song meant everything to both of you and it had been written with so much love and emotion that it was almost impossible for you to listen to it without your eyes glassing over slightly, and that is exactly why Harry had planned to play it at his concert tonight. It was your six-year anniversary and even though Harry would much rather be cuddled up with you on the couch and watching old movies while drinking expensive wine as you usually did, he had been forced to have a show tonight.

When he had planned his tour many months prior, he had made sure to keep the date of your anniversary off his schedule so that he could grant all his attention to you solely, but his plan had been changed when it had been necessary to cancel one of his shows in London. He'd then been offered to change the date so that thousands of fans wouldn't get disappointed and of course, Harry had immediately said yes, disappointing his fans was the last thing he wanted. When Harry found out that they'd moved the date to today, your anniversary, he regretted the decision though.

Even though you'd told him several times that you really didn't mind he's still been unsure whether to do the show or not. "But I want to be with you" he had pouted like a puppy and your heart had completely melted. "You will be, I'll come to the show and we'll go home and be together afterward" you'd kept reassuring him. You'd always loved to watch Harry perform, so you were always happy when you got the chance to.

You did end up convincing Harry to do the show, but he still felt like he needed to make it up to you and he knew the perfect way how to.

All that led up to this moment, Harry on stage just having finished Sweet Creature, you backstage and the crowd screaming at the top of their lungs. "So," Harry started, the screams of the crowd dying down a bit, "today is a very special day."

"The day you realized you're shit at making jokes" a fan standing in the front line yelled from the crowd which had gone almost quiet. Laughter broke out through the room and Harry tried to look offended but couldn't quite keep his own laughter back. He walked closer to the edge of the stage to look down at the girl who'd yelled and pointed a finger at her once he found her. "I tell very very good jokes" he stated, trying to sound as serious as possible. The whole crowd broke into laughter again and Harry looked up with his mouth agape, "what? Why are you laughing? You shouldn't be laughing, I tell extremely good jokes" he said, playing offended.

He turned to you, standing on the left side of the stage, "y/n, my jokes are good, right?" he almost pleaded. The crowd went absolutely crazy at the mention of your name and you could only laugh in response which made him raise his eyebrows and his eyes widen, "why are you laughing?"

You blew him a kiss which he huffed at and turned to the crowd, "she blew me a kiss as if that makes it better" he rolled his eyes playfully, but the room went loud again as screams filled the air. "Let's get back to the point before my ego starts hurting too much," Harry said, making his fans laugh.

"I'm not good at telling jokes, but I still make you laugh don't I?" He just had to get his point through before continuing, which made the crowd erupt in laughter again. As he was proved right, he was able to continue. You shook your head at his narcissistic ass, but couldn't possibly wipe the huge smile you had on your face off.

"Today is a special day because," he squinted his eyes at the girl who'd offended his jokes before continuing, "six years ago I grew balls big enough to ask this girl out," he said and your heart automatically sped up as the crowd screamed uncontrollably, what was he doing?

"I love her a lot and I want today to be very special for her," he said as another microphone was carried onto the stage and placed beside his. Harry turned to you and motioned for you to come onto the stage as the screams from the thousands of people in the room went crazy. Your eyes widened and you quickly shook your head, whatever he had planned you weren't doing it. You knew Harry and all his "good ideas" and you were not doing something which required you and a microphone and a whole lot of people. Harry put up his finger and spoke to his fans, "one second" before running across the stage and towards you.

When he approached you he didn't say anything, just gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and pulled you onto the stage with him. He placed you in front of the microphone next to his own before holding your hand up in the air, "y/n everyone!"

Being in front of so many people had always made you uncomfortable, but Harry's naturally relaxed personality always shined through in situations like these and you immediately felt more comfortable being next to him. You locked eyes with him as he let your hand back down and he quickly leaned over to give you a peck on the cheek, before turning around and sending a thumps up to his band.

The melody to If I Could Fly started and a smile broke onto your face at the sound of your favorite song. You looked at Harry who was already looking at you with the goofiest smile you had ever seen on his face, and your smile only grew as he started singing the first line of the song.

"If I could fly, I'd be coming right back home to you" he sang and the crowd went crazy at the sound of the familiar song. His eyes remained on yours though as he continued, "I think I might give up everything, just ask me to."

"Pay attention, I hope that you listen 'cause I let my guard down" he gave your hand, which he was still holding, a squeeze, "right now I'm completely defenseless."

"For your eyes only, I'll show you my heart For when you're lonely and forget who you are I'm missing half of me when we're apart Now you know me, for your eyes only For your eyes only"

He finished the chorus and gave you a reassuring nod, encouraging you to sing. You eyes didn't leave his once as you sang,

"I've got scars even though they can't always be seen And pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing Pay attention, I hope that you listen 'cause I let my guard down Right now I'm completely defenseless" He joined you as the song came to the chorus again and your voices melded together beautifully and you knew you were never gonna forget this moment, with the screaming fans in the background. Harry was a very private person towards the public, so you knew that him presenting you to the crowd like this meant a lot and even though you'd been taken aback by his request to sing with you, you realized at that moment that there was nothing you loved more than singing with him.

When Harry was just about to start the third verse of the song, he turned his microphone so it was facing you, and let go of your hand to grab your microphone and turning it as well. You were standing face to face as Harry started singing, making your heart almost burst with all the different emotions currently occupying it.

"I can feel your heart inside of mine" he sang and you smiled, his voice had always been the most beautiful sound to you.

"I've been going out of my mind, know that I'm just wasting time" you continued before he finished the verse, "and I hope that you don't run from me."

As you sang the chorus together again, you looked directly into each other's eyes, your faces close as you sang your hearts out. You got lost into the deep depths of his eyes and it was like the rest of the room disappeared, only you and the man who carried your heart present. Harry looked at you and you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. As his eyes pierced into yours, they carried all the love he had for you and as the song ended he embraced you in a tight hug and you couldn't stop the tears welling up in your eyes.

"I love you so much, baby" he whispered into your ear and kissed you on the forehead before letting you go and made sure you returned to the side of the stage safely to watch the rest of the show.

[closedcoffins]

baccano! verses for the un-baccano!’d: part 1.

cahir aep ceallach is a member of the runorata family, provided personally by the house of dormentaire as a gesture of goodwill ti counterbalance the suspicious-by-nature homunculus melvi dormentaire. cahir remains in the crime family against his will---the house of dormentaire had privately and cunningly threatened his family’s safety if he did not comply---but carries out the things he is asked to do without complaint. he’s starting to mind it less, though, after developing a positive relationship with the young carzelio runorata.

dandelion---known formerly by the name julian alfred pankratz---hides from everyone the fact that he was thrown out of his family home at a young age, and had come to lotto valentino under the pretense of being nothing more than a startup traveling bard with better chances in a smaller town. after sneaking onto the advena avis in order to safely leave the city before it fell under the rule of the house of dormentaire ( with whom dandelion’s family had close relations ), dandelion becomes a complete immortal in the year 1711. rather than panic, after escaping that nightmare of a ship, he... just keeps traveling the world and singing songs like he always has.

cyran azerrad kapral is a lost, helpless man. or at least he’d have you think that, anyway. something like a modern terror in the small town of lotto valentino, he assures the city never sees a decade of rest, springing up as a threat to rival even the mask makers with how dangerously he strikes. what people tend to miss is that cyran is actually a vampire, and while he doesn’t intend to subside on lotto valentino forever... it’s certainly a small town, so there might not even be people left when he’s decided he’s had his fill.

mark twain is a man with a strange modus operandi. “the thrill of life comes from near misses with death,” so he says. it’s probably for this reason that twain finds himself among the gang of killers that loyally follows ladd russo. though he didn’t kill anyone aboard the flying pussyfoot, twain found himself nearly becoming a victim of the rail tracer by association, before the man who’d paired up with him let slip that he’d been too cowardly to actually want to kill anyone on the train. spared, and with the memory of the train tracks just inches from his face, twain makes an abrupt about-face and swears that he’ll help the rail tracer clean the train up, and hey, maybe we could do that kind of thing again sometime...

louis james moriarty, with his two brothers and some company, has recently moved into millionaire’s row in manhattan, sparking some discussion among the more well to do crowds. it’s surely a coincidence that their movement coincides with the murder of a corrupt stock trader with a side gig as a loan shark; these sorts of things happen all the time. oh, but with threats on the lives of people such as manfred beriam and cal muybridge, it might only be a matter of time before people grow suspicious...

taryon darrington has gotten himself in deeper than he can reasonably handle with the mafia, which comes as little surprise to everyone who has ever met him. after accidentally offending one of the higher-ups in the runorata family, taryon decides to fight fire with fire by seeking shelter with the gandor family. unfortunately, having underestimated how terrifying the gandors were, taryon once again finds himself in a position of fear vs. survival, and is thusly relieved when he’s unceremoniously swooped away by a strange duo of robbers known as isaac & miria for a supposedly brilliant adventure. really, he’d only mentioned once that he liked tales of old heroes...

kashaw vesh has never really known peace. a homunculus created by huey laforet and handed over to renee parmedes branvillier, his life has been nothing more than a series of endless experiments, small pinpricks and trauma. that’s probably why, at the first opportunity, kash accepted the offer of help from a fellow homunculus who called himself sham to escape the care of renee and the nebula corporation. now, hunted, kash spends his time ensuring that he’s ready for when the day comes that he faces renee again. immortal or not, he’s not letting her go without some serious damage.

[beamystar]

Could you do a reader x Louis fic where maybe he falls hard for white fox with the fluffiest tail? 👉🏻👈🏻Like maybe he met them outside of school during the meteor festival before the anime ends or if that’s too hard you can come up with your own scenario..sORRY I HOPE IM NOT BEING COMPLICATED! Thank you !

A/N: thank you for the request !! I’ve definitely got a few in my inbox and I think what I’m planning to do is a louis insert/legosi insert/louis- back and forth like that, bc they’re basically the only requests I’ve gotten haha!

There will actually be a part 2 to this because it got a little long, so look forward to it! :)

Clouds— Or Something Along Those Lines (Louis x You)

The meteor festival was busy, like always. Every year the school helped participate in the event- all the clubs suddenly had their hands full of activities, regardless if they were a very popular club or not. Everyone had to chip in at least a little bit!

You were one of the students in your sort-of-elitist school who wasn’t a part of a club. You never really found a specific interest in anything that was offered, and your attention tended to waver between multiple things at once. So you really wouldn’t make a good club member to begin with- that was your reasoning for not joining. But, to counter that- you decided to be the helping hand if anyone found themself in need of one.

And no one needed a helping hand more than when it was the meteor festival. There basically wasn’t a moment that you weren’t on your feet, helping several of the clubs with their more tedious chores that they’d rather hand off to someone else so they could focus on something more important.

Not that you really mind. This is what you signed up for! You’re definitely not the fastest animal out there, or the strongest, but you think you’re a good enough compromise for most things. You’re in the middle of fast-walking through the park with multiple boxes in your hands- kind of towering over you so that it was hard to see, but it should be fine.

And then, of course, you had to run into somebody. Of course you did. Thankfully, whoever you bumped into was tall and fast, and they helped steady the boxes in your arms before any of them could fall.

“Whoa!” You exclaim before you laugh a bit under your breath. “Thank you- I’m real sorry about that!” Looking over the boxes, you see who you ran into-

And of course! It’s the most pretentious member of your pretentious school, Louis the red deer.

The deer actually looks frustrated- which is new- before he quickly fixes his tense features and tries to look undisturbed. “It’s fine,” he assures you. “But you should probably lighten your load so it doesn’t happen again.”

“Oh, is that an offer?” Your ears perk up and you can see the flash of irritation on his face. Your tail wags just a bit in interest.

You’ve never been this close to Louis before- you never had a reason to. You were never a big fan of plays to begin with and you didn’t like how everyone idolized Louis- and you especially didn’t like how Louis idolized himself. But seeing the deer struggle to keep his usual perfect composure intrigues you.

“...I suppose I have time,” Louis sighs through his nose and picks up the boxes sitting atop your stack with ease. “Where are we headed?”

“Just to that stall over there- I’m delivering some more supplies.” You take the lead, walking ahead of Louis as you walk down the path. You have to pace a little in order to be in the front- his legs are much longer than yours- but you manage. It’s easier now that your load has been lightened a bit.

“...Sound supplies. Are you a part of the music club?”

“Ah, observant. I’d expect nothing less,” your tail wags casually between your legs as you smile. “No, I’m not a part of any club. I just like to help out- ah, you can put them over here-“ you reach the stall and walk around it, toward the tall oak tree it’s next to. You huff as you drop the heavy boxes, Louis placing the others right next to it.

You sigh and stretch your back before you look up to him, meeting his eye as you smile. “Thank you, Louis. Is there anything the theatre club needs help with?”

The club president waves your offer off with his hand. You don’t miss the fact that he’s the first to break eye contact. “No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you for the offer, though.”

“So polite,” you eye him in interest. “And so well trained, too. No wonder you’re popular.”

You hold back your grin as you see him get angry again. It’s only a split second- but a second is all you need.

“Trained?” He sounds throughly offended, as he should. That was the point.

“I’m just tugging your tail, don’t worry,” you put your hands on your hips and shrug. “You’re very emotional today. Your nose flares when you’re angry, you know. I can see it.”

Louis doesn’t say anything back- perhaps because he’s dumbfounded or perhaps because he doesn’t want to feed your nonsense. Which is fair enough.

“I guess that’s just my foxy nature or something- being a little shit sometimes,” you chuckle. “I’m sorry if I offended you. But if you do need my help, give me a holler, yeah?”

You leave him alone beneath the oak tree, making a quick retreat as you have more music supplies to deliver. You know when you push your luck with some animals and you were definitely doing that with Louis- you can practically feel his glare on your back as you casually walk away.

Surprisingly enough, though- one of the club members for the theatre comes up to you eventually and asks for your help. “Louis said to find the fox with the fluffy tail,” it was a tall peacock who found you. He points to your tail with his feathered hand. “I’m assuming that’s you?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Apparently you had left somewhat of an impact on him- enough to actually tell his club members about you. And when you head over to the tall, impressive structure that you’ve honestly been eyeing the entire time it’s been here, Louis is standing nearby with his hands on his hips as he instructs several other animals about something or other.

You’re instructed by the peacock to help paint the large dragon, and you do so happily, though you can’t help but wander off eventually so that you creep up to Louis when he’s distracted. Silently, you get close enough so you can tickle the hand by his side with your supposedly fluffy tail.

The feeling shocks him and he looks down at you with wide eyes, and you look back up at him with a wide smile. “It’s you,” he barely manages to hold back what’s probably disgust in his tone as he holds his hand close to his chest. You laugh.

“Don’t act surprised, you’re the one who basically invited me here! I knew you’d eventually need my help.”

“Oh, you knew, did you?”

“Mhmm. And I wasn’t wrong.” You wave your little paintbrush around, circling it between your fingers. “Thanks for the compliment, by the way.”

Louis looks like he doesn’t know what on earth you’re talking about, making you snort. “Fluffy tail? That’s a compliment if you ask me.”

The deer’s mouth falls open- closed- and then open again- until eventually he gives up and looks away from you completely. “It’s not a compliment,” is all he manages to say.

Your tail wags. “Sure it’s not.”

His twitching brow and flaring nose tells you otherwise.

[suburbanbeatnik]

The short and very miserable life of Napoleon II, aka the Eaglet, aka Franz, Duke of Reichstadt: PART TWO

Although the beatings had ceased, Franz’s life continued in refined isolation until his fifteenth year, when his cousin Franz Karl married the beautiful and charming Sophie of Bavaria.

She was only six years older than he, a fine, pretty girl of sweet features and merry lips, with light chestnut brown hair arranged in great loops on her temples. She had done away with the stiff sumptuousness of her apartment at the Burg, and refurnished it in a more intimate atmosphere. In her salon, with its mahogany furniture covered in yellow velours and minus the usual gilding. Reichstadt would often come and sit beside her, looking through the pictures in her albums while she would paint, or play graceful Italian airs on her piano. And they would talk. She sided with him when things went wrong, pitied him, loved him. She was the only one to whom he could talk to with an open heart. Thanks to Sophie, in those troubled years of adolescence when the child is disappearing and the man is trying to find himself, he had at last found what had been refused him for so long: a friend.  [Aubry pg 140]

Franz was growing into a handsome young man, with his mother’s blue eyes and blond curls, but his father’s striking bone structure and deep-set eyes, and the emotional Bonaparte temperament. Though he was robust and “glowing with health” as a baby, by the time he was an adolescent he became more frail. Doctors said he had a “scrofulous tendency,” which was 19th century medical gobbledygook for some sort of disorder connected with the lymphatic glands. It seems to me that this kid was isolated and beaten for years, and suffered from pretty severe depression— on top of that, he didn’t eat (Aubry records that he had “a poor appetite”). Throw in an inherited tendency from his mother to have lung trouble, I’m not surprised he struggled with illness going forwards.

Apart from Sophie, there was no one to really look out after him. She encouraged him, his interests, his passions, his keen desire to be a soldier, his love for his father and of France, helping undo all the years of Habsburg brainwashing. As the years passed, he even learned how his father’s executors were continually frustrated in trying to pass on the legacy his father had tried to leave to him. “They had been kept away, or driven away: or else the relics they had brought had been politely taken from them and stuffed away into strongboxes, thus cheating the son of the only material inheritance his father had left him. Who had so ordained? Metternich, none other!” [Aubry pg 154]

Metternich, the true ruler of this not-so-holy and not-so-Roman empire, was the one man who had schemed and plotted to keep Franz so isolated and alone. Metternich, and this is no exaggeration, hated every atom of Franz since he was a baby, and he never let Franz forget it. Franz was under police surveillance at all times: the Chancellor had the Corsican’s son in his grasp, and would not lose him. He wouldn’t even allow the young man contact with his own grandmother, Letizia, Madame Mère, now eighty years old and blind from cataracts. He wouldn’t even allow a single letter— a single sentence.

That statesman, who had a government for a soul, had made Austria a prison for him instead of the home it should have been! Metternich had been his father’s enemy; he was his enemy too, and always had been! The young man felt the hostility underneath the Chancellor’s icy courtesy, and he hated him. Altogether without basis in fact are those accounts of numerous conversations between Metternich and the Duke of Reichstadt during this period. Prokesch maintains that the Minister talked to the Prince just five times in seventeen years. Far from seeking to influence the Duke of Reichstadt during this period, Metternich avoided all contact with him. He hated him as he hated his father. The likeness to the Corsican which he found again in the young man’s features offended him like an insult. He could not bear the sight of that forehead, the sound of that voice. At a Court reception on the evening of the Duke’s eighteenth birthday, the Chancellor paid the obligatory compliments and turned away hastily. Those who spoke to him immediately afterwards found him more distant than usual. As soon as he could do so without attracting attention, he left the palace. [Aubry pg 162]

After years of being force-fed Austrian propaganda, Franz had started reading as much as he could about the greatness of Napoleon— obsessively reading Las Cases’ Memorial of St Helena, which he found on one of the top shelves of the library. Imagine his feelings when he read his father’s will for the first time, discovering what affects and relics were left to him, but which he would never see, thanks to Metternich’s machinations (and Louise’s clumsy attempts to lay claim to Napoleon’s inheritance, which had sabotaged the work of the executors in the first place, did not cease until 1837). Franz, fascinated with his father’s campaigns and personal history, threw himself into his studies. Through books, he vicariously experienced Lodi, Arcole, Marengo, the Pyramids, Jena, Austerlitz… He became drunk with the glory of the past. A spell had been cast, and Franz became determined to make his father proud of him. When one of his tutors began to lecture him on his father’s shortcomings, Franz replied impatiently:

“The actions of great men are not to be weighed with ordinary scales.” [Aubry pg 156]

Franz was slowly shedding the relationships of his childhood. When, upon Neipperg’s death in 1829, he had discovered his mother had contracted a morganatic marriage with the one-eyed Neipperg, he “felt deeply insulted and humiliated.” He was enraged enough to discover just that: of course, keep in mind he had no idea that she was sleeping with Neipperg and had given Franz two illegitimate half-siblings while his father was living with the rats on St. Helena. I doubt he would have ever talked to her again if that was the case. Even without knowing that, he withdrew, “his letters were less affectionate and he mentioned her name more rarely. She had been expected at Schoenbrunn for the summer. Her son learned with relief that she preferred to take a cure in Switzerland.” [Aubry pg 160]

Of course, Louise kept doing her thing, weeping for Neipperg over “gay dinner tables and at the opera,” being annoyed whenever the name of Napoleon reached her ears, and then finding “a substitute for the one-eyed general in the person of the Count de Bombelles, at first Grand Master of her Household, then her lover, and then finally her third husband.” [Aubry pg 161]

Meanwhile, for years Franz had struggled with depression. The July Revolution had happened, with the kind and comfortable Louis-Philippe installed on the throne, and even though the King of Rome was still a popular figure in France, with perhaps a chance to ascend the throne, Franz was still, for all intents and purposes, a prisoner. And the older he got, the more obvious this became. Suggestions to become a monarch in Poland or Greece were pushed asides by Metternich. Attempts by his uncles Lucien and Joseph to discuss Franz’s future with Metternich were completely blocked. All he wanted to do was to start his military career, and make himself useful, but he couldn’t even join his regiment, or even visit his mother in Italy. His health was floated as the reason why he should stay inactive, but Franz doubted this was the only reason. Bouts of rage alternated with deep sloughs of “sadness and tedium,” and he could barely summon the interest to hold a conversation. Not surprisingly, his mother lacked sympathy. In 1830, when Louise was summering in Baden, taking the waters, she “rebuked him for his apathy. She could not understand why her son could be ‘so little like other young people.’” [Aubry pg 181]

It grew worse a year later. Italy was on fire with the revolutionary activities of the Carbonari, and Louise had fled Parma in fear of her life. Franz pleaded with his grandfather to let him go rescue her, but Metternich intervened. Let the son of Napoleon, the King of Rome, go to Italy, where his father won his own fame? Of course not! Emperor Francis gave into Metternich, and poor Franz was left feeling torn between misery, fury and desperation. Even Prokesch, his best friend apart from Sophie—a major in the Viennese army, a loyal soldier, scholar and diplomat who had worked for Metternich, but had defied him on a few occasions-- couldn’t calm him.  

His despair was palpable. He knew he would spend his entire life bound and trapped, with Metternich as his jailer.

The young man had sealed himself up in a silence that was almost complete, venting his feelings at the most in talks with Sophie and Prokesch, during which he expressed many severe judgments on members of the Imperial family. He loved Sophie and he had an affection for his grandfather, but he did not like the Empress, fond as she was of him. He thought the Archduke Ferdinand, heir-apparent and King of Hungary, was a ninny. [Editor’s note: Ferdinand was actually a brain-damaged hydrocephalic epileptic who couldn’t even consummate his own marriage with his wife Maria Anna, married in 1835.] He hated the Archduke Franz Karl, Sophie’s husband, calling him deceitful, mean and vulgar. Table conversations at the Hofburg were stupid, the Court life was cheap and in bad taste. Comparing himself with those pious, submissive and conceited Archudukes and those ugly, insipid Archduchesses, he felt himself of a superior race. He even said one day— and Prokesch recorded the words in his secret notes:

“If Josephine had been my mother, my father would not have gone to St. Helena, and I would not be languishing in Vienna. My mother certainly has a kind heart, but no backbone! She was not the wife my father deserved!”

And he added, burying his face in Prokesch’s hands:

“You do not respect her, do you?”

And Prokesch replied:

“She was what she could be. The woman your father deserved for a wife did not exist. But he chose her, and she is your mother…”

Reichstadt was now weeping, and a long silence followed. [Aubry pg 207]

And that was when he seriously began to think about escaping.

While the two began to consider exactly what they could do, Franz decided that he had had quite enough of the chaperonage of Count Dietrichstein, his head tutor. This was the man who whipped him when he was five, who thrashed him when he was ten, who drilled him for countless hours on his German and his Italian translations and all the minutiae of court etiquette. He claimed to be utterly devoted to the young prince. Maybe he was, in his own weird way. But Franz was spreading his wings (or at least attempting to— even when he was 20, his imperial grandpa was still prone to treating him like a child, forcing him to dine with him in austerity if his own personal dinner parties became, in Francis’s opinion, too extravagant). In addition to the sensible and devoted Prokesch, Franz had befriended a few other young men, rakes and dandies all, like Neipperg’s eldest son and the young Esterhazy. Franz was gorgeous, brooding, romantic, and with perfect manners, and the women were obsessed with him (a Polish nun who had never met him but only saw him from a distance once swore undying love, even writing letters to this effect).

There was one woman that Franz danced with at a masquerade ball, a certain Naudine Karolyi, black-haired, handsome and bold, and not only did they manage to dodge Metternich’s spies, but they exchanged a lot of letters. This was 1831, and he was 20. But Dietrichstein soon found out about the correspondence.

At any rate, he strode into the Duke’s room, began rummaging through his desk, and finding a drawer locked, commanded him to open it. Reichstadt did not dare refuse— he obeyed, and his governor saw before him a pile of letters from Esterhazy. He opened a few, ran through them, and turned around livid with anger:

“What?” he cried. “You have a love affair?”

“Yes,” replied the prince coolly. “You can see with whom.”

“Do you write to her directly?”

“No, sir.”

“Then through an intermediary? Someone I know?”

He was besides himself with rage and almost shouting. Other persons had just entered the room and stood looking on in surprise at the strange scene. Reichstadt begged the Count to calm himself.

“Come downstairs with me,” he whispered. “You shall have all the letters afterwards, I promise you.”

The Count mastered his anger and went down with him to the Emperor. On the return, the Duke scrupulously handed him the entire correspondence, and it was forthwith consigned to the flames. [Aubry, pg 212]

But this didn’t stop Dietrichstein from trying to intercept Franz’s personal letters. At one point he saw that Esterhazy called him “the old woman,” and Dietrichstein was “extremely hurt.” He tried everything he could to break up the friendship from that day on, but didn’t succeed, as Franz could be extremely stubborn and loyal to a fault.

The affair with Naudine didn’t go anywhere, but there were others— there was even a reputed bastard daughter who later called herself the Comtesse de la Pommiere— but no matter what happened, his heart belonged to Sophie.

* * *

I’m cutting this off here, because LONG POST IS LONG, but more angst and drama will be coming with the next post!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

[cockasinthebird]

“I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.” -William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act 3 Scene 5

Brown and blue both stare up at the many a love declarations on the underside of the bleachers of Hawkins High. Football practice has begun, along with their ever so faithful cheerleaders, and while Robin was here just for how short those skirts went, Steve was here for both those legs, and the sweaty muscles of the blonde haired quarter back; how he shone like diamonds underneath the ruthless summer sky.

Robin hands him the roach, and he has possibly never felt more at peace than now, in the shade with the occasional breeze. But of course, he thought so every time the two of them decided to get high and lie in the grass.

“Tommy + Carol 4 Ever,” Steve reads out loud. “Fucking asshole.”

“Aw, does poor Steve still feel abandoned?” Robin pouts falsely and puts both hands behind her head.

“Shithead was my best friend for most of our lives, and now he's off somewhere licking Billy Hargrove's boot.” He frowns whilst pressing the final embers of their joint into the grass.

“You're just jealous,” she laughs mockingly at him and turns her head to peek out through the seats.

And Steve leans up on his elbows to look past her and in the same direction, to where he sees Billy Hargrove tearing off his helmet with a victorious smile, mullet done up in a low bun, bangs clinging wetly to his forehead.

“Fuck no,” he lies.

“Come on, Dingus.” Robin knocks their shoes together. “You know you can't lie to me.”

“I can try,” he huffs a laugh and looks at how she mimics him genuinely.

“You think I got it any better?” her laugh turns to a scoff and points up. “Tammy Thompson loves John Johnson.” And there's a deep silence for a few short seconds as she keeps her finger in the direction of that etching. “Who the fuck names their child John Johnson?”

Steve cannot contain his chortle, and she is right behind with her usual snort; the one that only comes forth when they're this high.

“It would be like-” Steve takes a deep inhale. “If you were named Robin Robinson!”

“Or you Steve Stevenson!”

“Is that a real name?!”

“Y-yes?” Robin fights against the grin that wants to spread all too wide, and looks at him. “Robert Louis Stevenson!”

“Who?” Steve keeps breathing slowly to try and calm down from something that isn't actually that funny, but when you got bloodshot eyes like these, everything is.

“The famous writer? He wrote Treasure Island and Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.”

Steve leans up on his elbows again to stare down at her with the most bewildered look this illiterate teen can manage. “Mr Hyde as in... our chemistry teacher?”

“Oh...” Robin's blue blue eyes grow as wide as they can. “My God... Steve... No wonder you're failing literally every class.”

And his expression falls from confused to somewhat offended, but it is the inevitable truth. “It's fine,” he says with nary a worry, “I will get a job at my father's office as... I dunno, coffee guy? Mailman?”

“You really think he'd put you in charge of something as important as their postal service?”

Rather than come up with a sensible reply to that remark, he simply grabs a fistful of grass and throws it at her.

He smiles, she laughs, and the both of them settle down once more with only the loud cheers from the girls in uniform to fill the comfortable silence they find themselves in again, as they continue reading everything that's been carved and written into the far too old wood.

Steve's name can be found numerous times, both in forms of compliments-

“I wish Steve Harrington would notice me.”

“Mrs Harrington is my dream job.”

“Steve Harrington the Keg King.”

All surrounded by hearts.

On one step it reads, “Steve 'The Hair' Harrington” in suspiciously familiar handwriting.

He used to bring girls down here, too, and would have them watch as he reached high above them and wrote his name + theirs.

Steve + Laurie. Crossed out. Steve + Amy. Crossed out. Steve + Becky. Crossed out.

He never got to bring Nancy here. Brought Robin here originally for the same reason as the rest, but she was quick to tell him the truth as he stood too close.

At least they remained friends.

“Is your name up there somewhere?” he asks her, having never actually found it.

“I'm a band dweeb, what do you think?” she sighs but acts like it doesn't bother her.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Nope,” she lies and pops the p.

And of course he doesn't believe her, but he considers himself too nice to press her on any of it.

Silence drags on for what feels like eternity crammed into one minute, and he's got something on his mind, but has absolutely no clue how to work it into conversation all casual like, because it's kinda a big deal, but he doesn't want to seem a fool for thinking so.

So he tries to just flat out say it, “Robin?”

“Steve.”

“You're... smart, right?” He feels himself failing at just saying what he's thinking.

“Smarter than you, although that's not saying much,” she chuckles out and looks to him, but he seems... nervous, and she stops. “What's up, dingus?”

“I... I got a note in my locker today, and I don't really know what it means,” Steve speaks hesitantly and rips small pieces off of a blade of grass.

Robin's brows quirks up. “Oh? And you want me to decipher it for you?”

He sits up far too fast, and even though his body remains still, the world spins for longer than what is possible. “Would you?” There is such a brightness to his tone.

“Sure, what does it say?” She gets up as well and crosses her legs.

Steve fishes out a paper that has become impossibly crumbled up in his front pocket, to a point where the letters written in beautiful cursive is almost unintelligible.

“I love you more than words can wield the matter; dearer than eyesight, space and liberty.”

And while she turns the paper around and re-reads those words, Steve stares unblinkingly so at her.

“So?” he finally asks, bursting with anticipation.

“So, it's a love letter.” She hands it back, and he looks at the paper with such admiration, as if he had forgotten he was worthy of such, just to be reminded of it now. “It's Shakespeare, King Lear. It means that she loves you more than words can describe.”

At that he looks up, beaming with elation as he asks for reassurance, “Seriously?”

“Yup.” She is clearly far less excited, but there's optimism to her tone, to know that he might find what they're both longing for, whether out loud or in secret.

“Someone wrote me a love note...” His smile wide with shocked disbelief.

“Congratulations.” She rolls her eyes although with raised lips, and lies down again.

-

The very next day, shortly after lunch has begun, he finds another in his locker and runs to where Robin would be eating her lunch alone in the unattended library.

Steve slams down the paper in front of her, and she pauses just before biting into her boring ham sandwich.

“Well well well lover boy,” she mocks lightly and places her food back down on the tray. “I assume you're in need of my service once again?”

The chair next to her screeches across the floor as he sits down with a hard bump. “Yes, and it's the same handwriting as last, so that means it's the same girl, right?”

“Hey now, I haven't agreed to anything yet!” She slaps her hand down on top of the paper, and smirks. “I will help you with this, again, if you buy me pizza after school.”

“Yeah, deal, whatever, just-” He gestures wildly to the neatly folded paper. “Tell me what it means!”

Robin shakes her head and slumps back into her seat; slipping down a bit with her legs splayed out all comfortable and taking up far too much space.

“Love is blind, and lovers cannot see, the pretty follies that themselves commit.”

She nods for a moment in thought, fully ignoring the way Steve's eyes could drill holes in her skull.

“I think it's from The Merchant of Venice. It means... something like, how love makes you act different?”

And since she seems satisfied with that, nods more and lets out a little “Yeah,” so is he.

“Okay, so, someone that acts differently around me?”

Robin taps her temple with a blackened nail and continues nodding like it's all he understands. Still, to ensure he gets her point, says, “You got it.”

Now it is his turn to slump into his chair, but far more confused. “How... how am I supposed to know that they act differently around me? Isn't that how I'll always have seen them, then?”

She raises her brows at that and sits up a bit more straight. “How astute!”

As if he knows what that means.

-

Through the weekend he waits on his bed, each note in hand and smiling so wide his cheeks grow sore.

Two love letters in two days? They are meant for him, right? This girl didn't accidentally put it in the wrong locker, right?

Steve catches himself briefly hoping she's beautiful, but pushes that aside by the fact that she's so poetically inclined, so sweet and shy that her looks hardly matters, for her choice of words warms his heart and makes it beat in a way that he has oh so missed.

Another thought is what if it's Robin, but he shakes his head violently at that stupid little thing, because no, she's his best friend and that's all they'll ever be, and he truly is happy with that. But everyone gets wrong and bad ideas from time to time, so he won't fault himself for her name popping up, as he mentally goes through a list of all the girls he knows. Or thinks he knows.

And though he tries to distract himself with TV and swimming in his pool and letting Robin paint his toenails, Monday always feels so far away.

-

It is the first thing he does when he shows up at school; pushes his way through his peers to fling open his locker, and sure enough a little note slips out.

He skims it for just a second before he rushes off to stand by Robin's locker for when she eventually moves to it and shoves him aside.

“Another?” she asks with her head in her locker as she rummages for gum.

“I knew she was gonna leave me another! I could feel it in my body the entire weekend!” his tone pitched high with excitement.

“Ew, gross, I don't need to know that!” she jokes and yanks it from his grasp.

“Come what sorrow can, it cannot countervail the exchange of joy, that one short minute gives me in her sight.”

And Steve folds it, lovingly so, before placing it inside his wallet, and thankfully he doesn't have to wait long for a more modern translation of it.

“Something something about how her pain and misery goes away in your presence; in the presence of a loved one. Romeo and Juliet, which is not a happy love story!” she says ardently and points a stern finger at him for emphasis.

“Okay, but does that mean we have classes together at least then?” Steve shrugs and runs a hand through his shiny hair.

“Probably? Or maybe some extra curricular activity,” Robin's tone careless and she starts down the hall, with Steve right behind.

“But the only other extra whatever I take is basket.”

“So maybe your admirer is a guy.”

He shakes his head with conviction. “Nah, I doubt that completely, I mean you've seen the handwriting! And what guy is into Shakespeare?”

“Anything is possible Steve, don't be so close minded.”

-

For once he is early to first-period history class, and he sits on the desk Robin usually occupies, to which she responds with throwing her bag into his lap, accompanied by a cocked brow and strong stare.

Steve doesn't say a thing, simply lifts up a fourth note, and she snags with from his fingers with an exasperated sigh.

“I would not wish any companion in the world but you.”

She groans out loud now and pushes him off of her table. “Come on dingus, this one is easy! You cannot be this stupid.”

“Just tell me what it is!” he says as he shuffles into the seat in front of hers.

“She only wants you, no one else, Jesus.”

“Oh,” he breathes out, his wide grin that of pure joy, and although this is a tiring thing to be bothered with every day now, she does appreciate his happiness to some extend.

-

Wednesday morning Robin is already by Steve's locker, arms crossed and a friendly smile painted across her face.

“Let's see what your stalker has come up with this time,” she says and leans away so that he can twist the lock in the right order.

And today it is a far shorter note.

“Love hath made thee a tame snake.”

She doesn't bother waiting before saying, “Love will humble and soften even the most hardened individual.” And there's a glint in her eyes, so short and easily missed, revealing that she might have an idea as to which hardened individual this could be. Not that she hadn't thought about him before already.

For she had seen his copy of As You Like It by Shakespeare fall from his bag in English Literature, but it is not her place to out anyone.

“That's a weird one, right?” His brows furrowed as he awaits affirmation. “Hardened individual? What does that even mean?”

“Steve, I-” She rubs her eyes hard and nods. “Yeah, it is a weird one. But it probably means someone who's acting tough, but in truth softens around you.”

He folds it back up and slips it into his wallet together with the other four.

“Tomorrow, then,” Robin says and pats his shoulder a few times before heading to class.

Steve stays still for a moment, looking at how the five notes stretches the leather of his wallet. His thumb runs over their ripped edges, all seemingly from the same piece of paper, thinking about the dainty fingers that must hold the ballpoint pen to write him such loving words.

Cheeks flushed, smile tender, eyes soft, he wanders towards class as well.

-

Months ago when he and Robin became best friends, she took a very slight interest in him and his education, because he very clearly needs help with school, and she's suspicious of the fact that he might be dyslexic, but when asked about it he gets mad.

So instead she demands food and favors from him whenever he starts screwing up in school again, starts falling behind, or shows up late to class. And of course he has slept through his alarm for the first time in weeks on this Thursday, the one day of two where they have first-period together, and now he'll have to pay for dinner at the diner, but he has a good excuse!

Sat up all night with several books written by none other than William Shakespeare that he had checked out at the library.

He's hungry and tired and in a goddamn hurry to get to class ASAP; the hallways empty and silent save for the occasional teacher yelling at an unruly student, but even that he can hardly hear over the beating of his heart, which is just great, because now he'll spend all day with floppy hair and reeking of sweat.

He just has to make a quick stop by his locker to see if there's a new note, the only thing that truly matters and overshadows the importance of getting passing grades or upholding his deal with Robin.

Around the next corner and... and...

And it never dawned on him at any point, even with Robin's constant droning of “Guys can read Shakespeare, too!” that his secret admirer might not be a girl at all. Maybe he was just so stuck in the expected reality of the world, the one he's so used to, before Robin helped him see the light, to help him realize that there's other options than gay or straight.

No he never even bothered thinking that way, till he sees Billy Hargrove slip something into his locker.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Idk how to describe what I’m feeling but I feel like you can hear it without getting offended unlike my friends. I’m not a fan of Harry. Used to be a long time ago, now he doesn’t make music I like and also he annoys me. I am a fan of Louis. And I (this is the part that’s hard to parse) think I’m jealous maybe? Because I love Louis and his amazing personality and his music. But he will never do anything like Harry does that’s out of the box or fun. He does cool things sometimes like the hotspot releases and the mural we got to watch being painted, but none of that stuff showed him. I think Louis is really smart and creative which is a big reason I love him. But the ways in which those traits come through are kind of in behind the scenes/you have to infer ways.

I hate to say it but Louis is kind of…boring? In today’s terms especially. And I kind of think that in order to be a boring artist you have to already be a megastar to keep being a boring artist and still keep your audience. I don’t say that because I’m scared of louis’ audience shrinking. I’m saying it because I’m scared of not being interested in being his fan anymore. Like I will always like his music probably. But……idk. I don’t know if any of this is coming out right. I just want Louis to do something new and/or unexpected. Because I feel like I keep getting sold the same thing over and over in a way. And yeah. I’m definitely jealous that Harry fans get to see their fave engaging with queer culture so often. Just like the other traits I love about Louis, that’s something I just have to guess at or infer. And I actually have much less evidence to infer that Louis is queer than to infer he is smart and creative.

Idk what Louis wants.

Oh anon - I'm sorry you're struggling - I think it's really good that you're thinking about how you're responding and why.

I could tell you how I see Louis and his career differently from you, but that's not really the point. Neither what you want or what Louis is doing is the problem.

This reads to me like you've got a lot of your anxieties tied up with stan logic, and I don't think that's good for your wellbeing.

Stan logic says that who you like is part of who you are. It also says that the people who you follow have to be the best in all the ways. And if there's something you're not into that suggests that either you or the thing you're a fan of needs to change.

I do have two pieces of advice - I don't know if they'll help.

So often when dealing with anxiety accepting that the thing you're afraid of might happen can be a really useful way of loosening rather than tightening the knots you're struggling against. What if you were no longer interested in Louis' music? Would that be so bad? What you feel now and what you experienced as a fan would be still be valid and important.

The other is much more concrete piece of advice - which is if you want artists who engage with queer culture unambiguously - then follow out artists. There are lots of them. Whatever music you like you will find some queer artists to follow.

I am going to give some New Zealand specific recommendations (as well as mentioning Grace Petrie again, because I love her and want her to be successful enough to tour NZ regularly). Anika Moa - especially good if you have children in your life because as well as her song for adults she has amazing songs for children. Or Ladyhawke - who is married to the amazing Madeline Sami who is a co-presenter on the NZ Bakeoff.

Please don't be scared that one day you'll like different things than you do now and that there will be new things that bring you joy - that's one of the amazing and exciting things about life.

[sumukhcomedy]

How To Cancel “Cancel Culture”

In his speech at Mount Rushmore, President Donald Trump attacked “cancel culture.” It had been one thing to see this phrase constantly brought up on social media but now we were seeing the leader of the free world bring it up on the anniversary of the country’s independence. I have no idea where the term “cancel culture” came from and it doesn’t even matter anymore anyway as it has become yet another term that has been molded into its own strange definition by whomever may use it. In a general sense, “cancel culture” appears to now be pared down to the erasing of something because it’s offended someone.

The problem to “cancel culture” is that it’s become a broad term to represent many complicated, in-depth concepts. I’m going to put what’s been labeled as “cancel culture” into 3 separate groups (there probably could be more but, for the sake of this essay, I’ll keep it to 3).

1. Legitimately disturbing or criminal acts that were done by individuals

2. Correcting a wrongful history for the betterment of society and our nation

3. Revisionism in an effort to address uncomfortable topics

The first, “Legitimately disturbing or criminal acts that were done by individuals” is seen most prominently in entertainment and politics. As a comedian, I’m going to look at the most recent claims against Chris D’Elia and then subsequent backlash towards the “boys club” mentality that exists in stand-up comedy that led old videos of Joe Rogan, Joey Diaz, Theo Von, Brendan Schaub, and others to surface on Twitter. Diaz is a good example of where “cancel culture” goes wrong but it’s where it’s also not well-defined. Almost immediately after the disturbing commentary of Diaz drew widespread attention on Twitter, numerous women in comedy defended him and discussed how he helped them. Diaz has always had a unique and honest sense of humor. He addressed on his podcast that he’s talked about the mistakes he’s made in the past and getting better. It is the crux of his act and his brand of humor. But, on his podcast, he then goes off into talking about “cancel culture.” These situations are always framed under the notion that it’s an attempt to get the comedian “cancelled.” The reality is that all it’s doing is to open up a more intelligent discussion on why this behavior is occurring, holding responsibility for it, and ensuring that a culture that has long existed within stand-up comedy and treats women as less doesn’t continue. In D’Elia’s case, the accusations against him were criminal. They didn’t come out of nowhere. They came from one woman opening herself up on the Internet and then other women connecting with that and revealing that they had also been victimized by this man. This is not some sort of conspiracy to end D’Elia’s career. It’s women opening up that a high-profile man is a predator and ensuring that he does not continue this behavior and hurt others with his position. For D’Elia, he needs to address it and hold responsibility for it and, for now, he only appears to be showing the usual behavior from high-profile men which is to deny the accusations without any further discussion. From this point, there isn’t really a “cancellation” that is even happening. Look at Louis C.K. The story came out and still C.K. has a career and there are people that wish to watch him and do business with him. His career didn’t end up being over even though his apology was terrible and he hasn’t particularly shown any sense of remorse or compassion. Sure, he doesn’t have a TV show or movies anymore. But he also isn’t a destitute hermit. He’s still existent and earning money in this capitalist, patriarchal structure of entertainment.

The second, “Correcting a wrongful history for the betterment of society and our nation,” is seen currently with the removal of statues, which was the major reason behind Trump bringing up “cancel culture.” This is about properly addressing the negative and detrimental history of our country. A statue is a form of honor. This is why if anyone receives a statue, they express a great deal of gratitude for it. No one really learns anything from a statue because, unless all the history you want to learn is on a small plaque in front of the statue, there is not much to be gained from something placed in a public place as opposed to a museum or a book in a library. The statue is there for one reason: to glorify the individual and what they represent in history. What does the Confederacy represent in history? A group defeated in the Civil War and whose flag now stands as a piece of racism more than anything else. What does Christopher Columbus represent in history? More of a violent raider than a peaceful explorer. This is a history that you wish to glorify with a statue? This is a history that you want to have where you live? There is no need for this type of history and glorification in public places. That’s like saying you’d rather have a statue of Donald Sterling outside of Staples Center in L.A. rather than Magic Johnson. And this history isn’t going to go away. Pick up a book, watch a documentary, and really learn about it. That’s more history and nuance than any statue can provide, and it can do it without turning villains into heroes.

The third, “Revisionism in an effort to address uncomfortable topics” is where the people angry at “cancel culture” get their most energy from. It’s again most seen in Hollywood because Hollywood, for as liberal as it may seem, is still as backwards and uncomfortable with race and history as conservative America can be. This is best seen as of late with production companies and streaming services beginning to remove episodes of shows because they may touch on race in an uncomfortable way. A good example was Hulu’s decision to remove an episode of The Golden Girls, “Mixed Blessings,” in which Blanche and Rose appear in “blackface.” The episode occurred in 1988. Even though they are wearing mud masks and not specifically blackface, is it uncomfortable to see that as a source of humor in 2020? Definitely. But, the point of the episode is about Dorothy’s son entering into an interracial marriage. It’s about Dorothy coming to grips with that and the age difference between the two of them as well. Hollywood doesn’t seem to be capable of telling the difference between a piece of art that comments on our society’s racism as opposed to a piece of art that is flat out racist. Nor does it seem to factor when the art was created. Sure, I don’t like that The Golden Girls writers and producers made such a decision in 1988. But it was 1988. The episode still addressed important issues in 1988 and did so with the best intent. This is highly different than, for example, D.W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation, which was as racist in 1915 as it is today or Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph of the Will in 1935. You may laud them for what they did for film but you must teach that they were racist propaganda. They were not well-meaning films at all and they, in fact, contributed to a deadly history. There is no purpose to banning this art. But it’s important to provide better education, better understanding of intent, and better knowledge of history when it comes to viewing this art. Blackface is terrible and has no place in 2020, but in order for it to have no place, people have to understand its history, the manner in which it was used, and the reasons why it is bad. The reality is that few people of color are asking for this third type of “cancel culture.” It’s more so coming from well-meaning white people who do not know how to properly handle race.

“Cancel culture” has become a simple term tossed out by individuals who simply do not want to address their own behavior, responsibility, or history. They would rather say to themselves that they are right than to challenge themselves that they could be wrong, that our society could be better, and that they could progress. All of these situations of “cancel culture” get labeled by the opposition as being “You’re too sensitive!” as opposed to “Let’s have an intellectual discussion to make this better.” It continues to be passed off as some sort of offense or political correctness issue when it’s just an effort to address one’s potential role in a bigger issue in society (whether that’s racism, misogyny, sexual assault, etc.)

“Cancel culture” is just an easy phrase. It’s an easy card to play to avoid dealing with one’s own behavior, speech, history, and art. Strangely enough, it’s a term that’s dismissive when it’s defending itself out of a fear of being dismissed.

[shutterbug2012]

Hi!

Tell me your top ten Louis highlights this year! Please tag me- and I’m sending love to you. 🌸☀️

Hello!!

This ask is such a pleasant surprise! Thank you, @ssfoc :D

Long answer alert, I apologize in advance U_U

First off, for some context, I actually started getting into 1D mid-2020. You know how it is, start streaming their songs, the people's singles first and then on to Fireproof and Diana; then the YouTube rabbit hole; then the slow realization that they’re never getting back together, like, ever. That was me for a couple of months, until November.

A very specific incident concerning an ex band member happened, which prompted me to go on tumblr for the first time in ages to see what people were saying about it. And that’s how I discovered your blog. At that moment, some interesting opinions were being reblogged which got me thinking... had I been living under a rock all this time? I read your masterposts, looked through multiple anon answers, and that was it. Not stanning that ex band member again. And definitely supporting the hell out of Louis.

Top ten moments! I’m sure there have been at least ten noteworthy moments, I hope I’m able to list them all.

1. Live from London

Easily at the top. It was the most warmth I had felt in a while, and I’ll never stop talking about it. I wasn’t able to buy a ticket, ticket giveaways didn’t work out, and my heart had almost dropped when two literal angels came to my rescue (shoutout to @bernielovesrandomshit and @tomlinsno, I don’t have enough words to thank you both). My biggest flex these days is that I heard Coacoac live ^^_^^ and the analyses you people have put out, I agree with it all. It was magical.

2. Walls 

The first time I streamed the album in its entirety was in October, and y’all. I stared into empty space for 15 whole minutes, wondering why the hell had I not heard it before and what exactly was preventing mainstream media from shoving it in my face 24/7 ‘cause I would absolutely not be offended (realized the reasons a month later). It’s my comfort album now. I love it when songs like these grow on you and gradually become a part of your life’s soundtrack.

3. Rediscovering JHO

Alright so I heard JHO on my friend’s phone a few days after its release, while we were on a bus. And it stuck to my ears, I streamed it non stop for a week. That was four years ago. Fast forward to September 2020, when it hit me that I really miss that one song from that very specific time in my life, and I streamed Just Hold On all over again. To hear those lyrics, that safe voice, and that sick beat drop properly again after so many years... it was ethereal. 

4. Louie Tumblr

I discovered so many nice people?? To think that you nice Louies were hiding in this hellsite and I never knew?! In the last month of the year it’s been very sobering for me to know I can still make friends (albeit over the internet) after 9 months of quarantine. Sending hugs to all you amazing people (special mention: @tomlinsno, @bernielovesrandomshit, @goodmorningtoyouuniverse, @seasurfacefullofclouds1, @silverfoxlou) (please don’t hate me for mentioning you 🥺👉🏼👈🏼)

5. DLIBYH

DLIBYH came on my daily Spotify this time last year. I remember because there was trouble in the paradise that was my life during 2018-19, and this song was (and still is) the friend who sat with you when you were crying your heart out, sitting alone on the staircase. Louis’ voice lends an indescribable charm to this particular song, makes you feel less alone. 

6. No radio, no major label

Like,,, sir??? I didn’t know I could love you more and then you do this??! It somehow always reminds me of what Steve Aoki said, that we Louies are what a music label wishes they were. He wasn’t wrong.

7. Fan interactions

The warmest, loveliest interactions (after Miss Swift). I might not get to see him in person ever, but the pictures and videos that keep floating around my dash are * heart eyes * isn’t it great to know that he always has your back?

8. Louis’ Social Media

The way Twitter goes into meltdown the second louist91 uploads a picture and tweets will never not be hilarious xDDD the man got cucumbers trending under pop, hell he has his own category on there. King shit.

9. Walls (title track)

I had heard it when the MV premiered, and it struck a chord inside of me. Something about starting the song with “Nothing wakes you up, like waking up alone” is just so pragmatic in a way that it reminds me of emotions I’ve felt too well. This guy is a gem of a songwriter, I will not be taking criticism.

10. 

The tenth highlight is when you sent me this ask T_T T_T T_T 

I’m the smallest of blogs, honestly, and this is probably the most coherent thoughts I’ve put out on this website. All the brilliantly thought out posts, gifs, fanart and every single piece of creative media regarding Louis and his music make this a better place and I’m so glad that I get to experience the shared love.

TL;DR : I’m kinda new here, I mostly don’t make sense but I do love this fandom and Mr Tomlinson.