paris press

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Only an Illusion?, Chapter 2, in The End of Certainty. Time, Chaos, and the New Laws of Nature, by Ilya Prigiogine, in collaboration with Isabelle Stengers, Editions Odile Jacob, Paris, 1996; First Free Press Edition, New York, N.Y., 1997, pp. 57-72. Designed by Carla Bolte 

/ «[…] In order to make fundamental progress, we needed to introduce new physical concepts, such as deterministic chaos and Poincaré resonances, and new mathematical tools to turn these weaknesses into strengths. In our dialogue with nature, we transform what first appear as obstacles into original conceptual structures providing fresh insights into the relationship between the knower and the known. » Prigogine, I., The End of Certainty, pp. 188-189 /

billboard.com
Harry Styles Sells Out First World Tour in Seconds
Tickets for Harry Styles’ first solo world tour went quickly this morning, selling out in seconds across 29 markets -- but his team already knew that it would.

The One Direction alum breaks a record for Ticketmaster’s Verified Fan signups.    

Tickets for Harry Styles’ first solo world tour went quickly this morning, selling out in seconds across 29 markets, coming as no surprise to Team Styles, which had seen ticket signups far outpace demand.

That’s because by using Ticketmaster’s new “Verified Fan” signup program, the One Direction singer saw seven fans register in advance for every one available ticket on his 13-date tour of North America, breaking the record for fan-to-ticket signups on the anti-scalper initiative rolled out earlier this year. Styles also went on sale with 10 shows in Europe and six dates in Australia, New Zealand, Singapore and Japan. With registered U.S. and Canadian buyers able to purchase four tickets each, only a small fraction of fans will be able to see the singer on his tour of intimate venues, which include the Ryman in Nashville, the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles and Radio City Music Hall in New York.

Styles is touring in support of his debut self-titled album on Columbia Records, set for release May 12. His latest song, “Sweet Creature,” hit No. 1 on the real time Billboard + Twitter Trending 140 chart shortly after its release on May 2. The song is expected to debut on the weekly Billboard + Twitter Top Tracks chart dated May 20 – a chart where Styles has already hit No. 1 with his debut album’s lead single “Sign of the Times,” and No. 4 with the set’s “Ever Since New York.” “Sign of the Times” also debuted and peaked at No. 4 on the Hot 100.

Styles is the latest artist to try out Ticketmaster’s Verified Fan platform, which requires fans to sign up in advance to purchase tickets, weeding out accounts created by scalpers, bot operators and resellers looking to flip the tickets for a profit. Asking fans to provide their name and email address in advance, Verified Fan uses a process similar to the two-step verification protocol used by sites like Facebook and Google to prove one’s identity. Both Ed Sheeran and Twenty One Pilots have used Verified Fan to power their tickets sales in recent months.

Styles’ decision to play smaller, intimate venues meant the ratio of fan signups to available tickets was higher than it’s ever been since Verified Fan rolled out earlier this year. Although Styles could have played much larger venues for his debut solo run, sources close to the artist say Styles chose smaller venues to give his diehard fans a more intimate performance of material from his new album.

He wanted to do right by his fans and show them he’s serious about working his new album,” a source close to the Styles tells Billboard.

Styles kicks off his world tour Sept. 19 at The Masonic in San Francisco, wrapping up Oct. 14 in Phoenix before heading to Paris.

This is obviously super random, but @khakikyrie and I decided that Seung-gil should have a (hella gorgeous) super model boyfriend, so I wrote a short ficlet with Seung-gil and Yuuri talking about it.

I named his boyfriend Min-jun.  He’s just as reserved as Seung-gil, but they open up with each other.  They’ve been dating for years, but are very private about it, and they live in a nice apartment together with their dog.  They both travel a lot for their respective work, but they always make time for each other when they can.


Yuuri hesitated when he saw Seung-gil.  His face was as closed off as ever, but for some reason, Yuuri thought he looked almost depressed.  Yuuri glanced over his shoulder, frowning.  Victor was talking with Chris, so he’d be occupied for a little while.  Resolute, Yuuri settled by Seung-gil’s side.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, voice low.  “You seemed…  Well, you seem a little sad.”

Seung-gil hesitated, toying with his champagne flute.  He frowned at Yuuri, silent for an uncomfortable beat. Yuuri waited patiently.  “I did not plan to attend this party alone.”

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Unmarked

Soulmate au oneshot full of Marichat

AO3

They always thought they’d be alone forever. There had been stories of people whose soulmate mark didn’t appear by their thirteenth birthday, but for their first thirteen years Marinette and Adrien thought it was only a story. When their birthdays came and passed, they knew.

Sometimes Adrien felt like that’s why his mother left, because he was defective. He thought maybe that’s why his father became cold. He felt truly lucky to at least have Nathalie, who was the closest thing to a parental figure in his life. Maybe the lack of a mark was why his father forbid him from attending school, to protect him from the ridicule and hate. It took years to convince his father to let him attend school. Whenever magazines asked about his mark, he lied and said it was a secret. Nobody speculated that he didn’t have one for two reasons; one, a lot of famous people refused to reveal their marks, and two, it was practically unheard of to not have one. The last case of an unmarked person was decades ago in the United States; there was no documentation of an unmarked in Paris in all of history.

Marinette’s family was much more understanding. They gave her options and kept their promise of unconditional love. Instead of being forced to hide, Marinette chose to be open. She did not advertise her lack of a mark, but whenever someone asked she told the truth. Some were disgusted, others confused. The bakery even lost some customers but her parents never blamed her for that. She wasn’t happy with the hand life dealt her but she was determined to make the most of it. Years of consoling words from her parents prepared her for a lonely life.

Then a misunderstood blond gave her an umbrella and everything changed. For the first time ever she felt a romantic attraction, a craving for love.

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‘It’s 3.23 in the morning and I’m awake, because my great-great-grandchildren won’t let me sleep.
My great-great-grandchildren ask me in dreams
“What did you do while the Planet was plundered?
What did you do when the Earth was unravelling?
Surely you did *something* when the Seasons started failing?
As the mammals, reptiles, birds were all dying?
Did you fill the streets with protest when Democracy was stolen?
What did you *do* once you knew?”
—  ‘What Did You Do Once You Knew’ by Drew Dellinger
I'm noticing a trend amongst some black people whenever they speak about Michael Jackson and his kids

Before anyone says shit, let me say that I am a black man and a Michael Jackson fan so I should have a say in this whole thing. I noticed that whenever black folk (yes specifically black folk since they do this the most compared to other folk) want to question or doubt that Michael is the biological father of Prince, Paris and Prince II (Bigi/Blanket) they do one of two things: 

  1. They compare pics of his kids with him in the Thriller era. (Dark skin MJ before the vitiligo). 
  2. They compare pics of his kids with him with plastic surgery in the late 90s/2000s, post-vitiligo. 

Since they are basing their doubts whenever they do these things above, it seems to me that they have: 

  1. Disowned Michael since the BAD or Dangerous eras (when his skin was getting lighter due to vitiligo and NOT bleach). Or just pretended that the only Michael Jackson to exist was dark-skin Michael. 
  2. Never trusted Michael on any damn thing (ESPECIALLY after the child molestation allegations in 1993 and 2003 which were all proven to be bullshit PLUS his race).
  3. Thought that MJ hated being black (this pisses me off the most). Or that he’s too black and shouldn’t have white-passing/lighter skinned children (while totally ignoring that he married a white woman - Debbie Rowe - and had vitiligo which took his black skin over time) 

Can they just admit that they hate MJ? They never got the chance to rip him to shreds while he was alive so they express their hatred of him by attaching his seed (especially Paris, who’s on a roll right now in the modeling business). People were so pressed when Paris came out identifying as black despite her white passing appearance? 

How more mad would they be if Paris chose her whiteness over her blackness? WHITE-PASSING BLACK PEOPLE DO EXIST YOU KNOW!!! JUST BECAUSE THEY DON’T LOOK IMMEDIATELY BLACK OR DON’T “ACT BLACK” DOESN’T MEAN THAT THEY AREN’T BLACK. Nobody does this sort of shit to Sofia Richie (Lionel Richie’s daughter) who is white-passing as well, but everybody wanna crucify Paris just because….she’s MICHAEL’s child.

I and many others have spoken on this topic here, here, here, and here. Feel free to review them. Or just continue believing in the tabloid media’s lies about MJ and his kids that played y’all so much until the day MJ dropped dead. Keep in mind, those some tabloids were key in MJ’s downfall.

/rant

identity crisis

 summary: chat noir takes a break. in marinette’s room. how inconvenient.

pairings: marichat and adrinette. [not actually a reveal fic, surprisingly enough]

sidenotes: i apologize for this in its entirety. also, i used a different take on their relationship. hope u guys can at least take something enjoyable out of it :,)

.

.

.

I have a surprise for you.

Marinette let out a dreamy sigh and draped her legs across the sides of her large bed. “And what may that be?”

Gimme a sec,” the voice of Adrien grunted on the other end of her phone. Marinette shifted her eyes to the side and held in a laugh. He sounded like he was having a lot of trouble.

Dammit!” He cried out gruffly. “Why is this so damned – argh!”

“Having trouble there?” She asked in amusement, still clueless as to what his ‘surprise’ was.

“I – yes – you know what? Screw it! Mari, baby, can you come open the window for me?” He pleaded with her cheekily.

Marinette blinked. Once. Then twice.

“The…the window?” She repeated, slowly standing up and peering around the corner to get a glance out her window. It was dark outside, so she doubted that even if there was something there she’d be able to see it.

Yes, darling. The window. It won’t – come – open!” He made a groaning noise with every syllable, in tune with a dull thumping sound, which Marinette now realized was the sound of her window being jimmied up and down.

Sighing in exhilaration, she walked over to her window and made an effective gesture of exasperation.

Chat Noir grinned at her, caught in the act, on the other side.

She gently unlocked the hinge and lifted it up to greet the masked superhero. His grin stayed intact as he rolled through the now open window and into the safe haven he recognized as her bedroom.

“Ahhh, that’s more like it.” He said, stretching out his long limbs and pressing end call on his baton.

“What in god’s name were you doing out there?” Marinette asked him blankly, holding her hands out questioningly. He fake pouted and held his arms out to her.

“You don’t enjoy my company? I’m hurt.” He poked his heart and hung his head. Marinette exhaled and willingly led herself into his open arms. He gleefully hugged her as tight as he could, lifting her feet up off of the ground for a few seconds before placing her down with a steady plop.

“Alright, alright.” She gave him a little bit of credit and pulled back, pink blush dusted across the apples of her cheeks, his open affection never ceased to impress and flatter her. “But…really…what are you doing here? I thought that you were going out with Nino. Not…not that I don’t want you here…”

He cocked his head to the side and gave her a proud smirk, obviously happy that he had managed to bring her to a blush.

“Nino cancelled, so I went out on the town, trying to find an ice cream place that would give me a Chat Noir discount. Figured I’d stop by and see my best girl while I was at it.” He informed her.

“Any luck?” She asked him, decidedly ignoring the part where he had complimented her plentifully. If she had a dollar for every time he’d made her blush, she’d have no trouble dominating the entire world economy.

“None.” He bowed his head like he was truly dishonored by not receiving one.

“Dear oh dear. You must be the shame of Paris.” She sympathized falsely, pressing her finger to the underside of his chin and kissing his jaw chastely.

“Make me feel better,” he begged her, collapsing his forehead against her shoulder like his ice cream folly had left him powerless.

“Do me a favor, first.” She requested, patting the back of his long blond hair affectionately.

“What’s that, goddess divine?” He asked her dutifully. She smirked, and leaned in, real close to his neck. Then, she kissed the patch of skin just below his ear.

Change back.” She whispered.

He leaned in and smiled.

Suddenly, his black mask disappeared, and his cat-like eyes regained their soft, peridot color and his leather costume became a set of normal clothes.

“As you wish,” he told her, leaning forward and kissing the back of her hand.

“Ewwww,” the distinct voice of Plagg, upset from being ejected so quickly, muttered in the background.

“Get lost, Plagg.” Adrien murmured.

“Excuse you, ungrateful scumba-“

“There’s some camembert down in the kitchen.” Adrien reminded him without missing a beat. Plagg cut off his insult immediately.

“You two kids have fun!” He cheered, zooming out of the bedroom and racing downstairs to retrieve his beloved food item.

Marinette giggled a bit and Adrien smiled. He loved it when she wore her hair down, like she always did before she would to go to bed. He played with the tips of her bags and started pushing her backwards carefully, leading her towards the bed without a trace of subtlety.

“Adrien,” she protested with a blush. He shook his head.

“I just want to cuddle with you, I’m tired. I got denied free ice cream all night.” He frowned, like he was hoping to gain her sympathy.

“Well, that’s…” she looked around for a reason not to. She found none, and shrugged. “Alright, fine. But if you’re hungry, you should go downstairs and get something to eat.”

“I’m not.” He told her before jumping onto the bed and bouncing happily a few times. “But I have to say, it is a shame you no longer live in a bakery. It would’ve been extraordinarily convenient to get free sweets whenever I wished.”

She sighed and laid down next to him on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Alas, you’re stuck with me, in a house where the only food source is cheese for your gluttonous kwami.”

He made a face and pressed his nose into her hair, inhaling the scent of fresh pomegranates from her shampoo. “Finally, someone understands my pain.”

“Oh you poor, poor boy…” she exaggerated, pulling his face into her hands lovingly. “If only there was something out there to ease your suffering.”

His lips squeezed together and he wiggled his eyebrows.

“I can think of a few things…”

She dropped his face into her stomach and laughed. “God, you’re awful.”

He kissed her cheek. “And yet, you still love me.”

“I know, it’s a tragedy.” She sighed, patting his cheek softly.

He responded to her kindly, flopping over and moving closer to her so he could throw an arm around her collarbone and press his face next to hers warmly.

After a few moments of content silence, his hands playing with the strings of the hoodie she was wearing (one that actually belonged to him in the first place – not that he minded, he rather enjoyed seeing her in his clothes, it reminded him that she was dedicated to him, and no one else). His other hand entangled itself with hers, fingers intertwining together with ease. He breathed out a sigh of utter happiness – god, he was so stupidly happy, it was almost disgusting.

“Marinette,” he murmured, breath warm against her head. She shifted a bit so that her cornflower blue eyes could focus on him better.

“Marry me,” he whispered, voice deathly quiet, as his hands stopped all movement in anticipation.

Marinette was silent momentarily, before her lips spread into a smile.

“Adrien,” she began, tapping his shoulder playfully.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“We’re already married.”

He blinked.

“Ah.” His voice cracked. “Yes. That’s right, isn’t it.”

She burst out laughing, sitting up and clutching the muscles of her stomach tightly.

“Oh my god, that was adorable, you actually asked me to-“

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckled lightly. “I guess you’re just so wonderful I wanted to marry you twice.”

She looked at him skeptically and laughed. “Sure, sure. I believe you.”

“You’d better.” He warned her, reaching out and grabbing her around the waist tightly.

“Always,” she told him, pressing his nose with her fingertip. “Always.”