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#sophi screeches
squipedmew · 3 months
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something about how every single one of BigB's final deaths has been unceremonious, and usually when he's running away
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baeshijima · 2 months
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oh fuck me
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liam-summers · 1 year
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BTVS | 1.07 | Angel 
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bb-8 · 8 months
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OKAY BUT LOOK AT THE PRETTIEST BOOKS I OWN
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Gallifrey: War Room The First Days of Phaidon really is just like “let me look at you!!”/“we thought you were dead” & “this is Narvin!! my…. Narvin…” & “together, then”/“together" & “it is lucky for us both that I do trust him. with my life.” & “how long as it been since you left us?”/“last I counted… 70 years. maybe 80. not long”/“too long.” & “do not let go of my hand” & “we’ll figure it out together.”/“together.” & “what a terrible Time Lord I’ve become”/“I only like the terrible ones” & "You risked your life. your only life”/“of course. and I’d do it all over again. Leela, I-I—“/“I know.” & so so so many soft sayings of the other's name and really I don't know how ANY of that is allowed I really don't but it's making me all absolutely INSANE
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synonymroll648 · 1 year
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happy ayyám-i-há Izzy I drew your little guys for you <3
MAKING THIS MY PFP NOW ILYSM <33333 /p
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katestrophic · 1 year
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So, The School for Good and Evil Movie
Verdict: Good movie, not so great adaption. 6.5/10. I’d recommend it if you’re curious, but if you are a fan of the books (like me) you should turn your brain off for maximum enjoyment.
If you haven’t seen the movie or read any of the books I suggest you turn back now because spoilers are up ahead.
By itself, the movie stands well on its own. The pacing is good, the story is fine, and the characters and characterization is decent. The movie still has that same cringe-inducing charm of the book (if you’ve read the book you will know). Sure, some characters could’ve used more time to establish themselves so that they aren’t shallow, like Tedros, Beatrix and her princess friend group, and the Coven but I will forgive it as the movie only has 2 hours and 28 minutes to establish everything while the books have 560 pages. Plus, this story is about Sophie and Agatha primarily.
And speaking of Sophie and Agatha...
They’ve completely changed the whole relationship and dynamic of the two. In the books, Sophie was only nice to Agatha as her pet project to add to her list of good deeds and Agatha only tolerated her because Sophie was the only one who showed some care to her besides her mom and cat. In the movie, these girls are considered the outcasts of the town and just kinda own it together. And while I do not mind this change, I find their friendship quite cute.
But it now makes even less sense in the movie as to why Sophie and Agatha were placed in their respective schools.
In the books, Sophie is vain, conceited, and self-centered. She’s only nice just to look good. Her persona is completely fake. This is only a front so that way it increases her chances of being placed in the School for Good, even outright admitting this to Agatha. That way, it makes sense as to why the switch happened. After all, is someone really good if they’re only being good just to make themselves look better?
Sophie in the movie is just...nice. She comes off as “a barbie girl living in a barbie world” kind of gal. Like, okay, I understand you want your protagonists to be likeable, but since they stripped Sophie of her selfishness, it makes the whole “these girls are in the wrong school” plot point make even less sense now as mentioned previously.
Not only that, without her vanity, the moment where she willingly becomes evil has less of an impact now. In the book and movie, the turning point for Sophie is when she got her hair forcibly cut off. In the book, this kinda breaks Sophie where she’s no longer playing around, she’s gonna get what she wants and do what she wants (henceforth, the F is for Fabulous sequence from the book). In the movie, she kinda just mopes around after the deed is done and Rafal now enters the picture for Sophie to begin to sink his claws into her. They have to get the villain, who, in the books I may add, doesn’t start playing a major role until books 2 and 3, to influence Sophie to become evil. The scene just comes off as that “Oh no! Anyways...” meme.
I don’t know how to segway into the general talk of how the movie adapted the book’s events outside of what they did to the characters, so I guess I’ll start talking about it here.
I guess this is as good as a time as ever to discuss the villain. In the book 1 iirc, his only role is to tell Agatha and Sophie to prove his decision wrong and he’ll return both girls home and then doesn’t do anything else. Sophie just plays against herself and turn evil. Again, as previously mentioned, he only becomes an antagonistic force in books 2 and 3. But here, they gave him a bigger role and moved his manipulating Sophie and giving her power plot point from book 3 to this movie. I guess it’s because they wanted a conflict that would result in a major climatic battle at the end? I thought the whole interpersonal drama of the conflicting goals of these girls was enough drama on its own but the movie doesn’t share the same sentiment I guess.
They changed the whole introduction and even the worldbuilding reader world. Outside of including the duel between the two brothers and the change to Agatha’s and Sophie’s relationship, the reader world has no clue about The School for Good and Evil outside of the bookstore lady. And what from the movie says, outside of Leonora (we will get to her in a bit), Agatha, and Sophie, no one else has been kidnapped which is vastly different from the “every four years two kids get kidnapped from this village who turn up later in fairy tales” lore that the book takes out. They also remove any other characterization of the village besides “everyone is a jerk except for Sophie, Agatha, and Agatha’s mom”.
After the girls get kidnapped and dropped off at their schools, it proceeds normally besides cutting a bunch of book events, like the Circus of Talent, F is for Fabulous, the actual Trial by Tale, and THE MIRROR SCENE.
YOU KNOW. THE PEAK OF AGATHA’S CHARACTER. HER MOST IMPORTANT SCENE. OF ALL THE SCENES THEY HAD TO CUT IT HAD TO BE THIS ONE.
Gregory, an original character for the movie, is a nice edition. I’ve only had him for a few minutes and I will do anything for this boy. And a few minutes is all I had for him because they turned him into a stymph and killed him off. This makes Agatha question the real morality of the two schools, seeing the fate of failed students, which I think is a nice touch to the movie.
They also had Rafal be more involved, directly influencing Sophie to be evil and cut a lot of the antics Sophie did to get Tedors’ attention. But, they also added one more unwelcome edition.
They made Leonara Lesso the reader who got kidnapped and have her be in love with Rafal. She was an evil reader who failed Rafal, making him seek out Sophie, They decided to merge her and Evelyn Sader together. LIKE WHY. This change makes the LEAST amount of sense besides further connecting Rafal to the plot and the girls!
Okay, after that gripe is out of the way, the ending. The ending’s fine. Rafal gives Sophie access to his blood magic. The school for good and evil begin to fight and swap places in terms of morality since the Good attacked and the Evil defended. Sophie and Rafal kiss and when all is loss Tedros and Agatha come in to save Sophie. Sophie takes a hit for Agatha and Agatha slays Rafal using Excalibur. At this point I was mentally checked out so I thought it was fine.
And yes, before anyone asks, they included the kiss scene between the two girls.
After that, the girls return home and the status quo is restored. Good and Evil are now supposedly friends. Happily ever after for these two obviously platonic girls.
But, the ending implies the next book, A World Without Princes, will be adapted in the future and I just let out a sigh. I kinda wished this movie was a one and done deal given my thoughts overall with this movie. And, because of this sequel tease, Rafal will inevitably come back.
Overall, this movie was a fun and nice watch, especially as a fan of the book series since I was in high school. I’m glad the movie was made and I could watch it, even though it was a letdown. I will say, those who like making mood boards and enjoy a fairy tale aesthetic in general, you will eat this movie up because the outfits and environment are FIRE.
Ok my rant is done I’m going to bed byeeeeeee.
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2kmps · 6 months
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Morning Routine
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howl pendragon x reader | 1,534 words
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synopsis; it could never just be a peaceful morning in the castle. not while howl was around, not as long as he had time to disturb your bath.
notes; book!howl-coded bc he's a massive fucking brat here, slice of life moment, implied established relationship, roughly proofread, written 2021.
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The cataclysm that was your life often began just as dawn broke across the sky, all with its hues of pink and orange spearing through the shroud of night. You knew it not by the caress of light seeping through the slithers of space between your curtains, nor by crowing roosters in their tragically optimistic song. In fact, by comparison to what you typically endured, a rooster would by far be your preference.
At that point, you had become attuned to stirring right around that time as it was; the fog of sleep still sat in your mind like an anvil, inciting your head back to your pillow for just a bit longer. You always resisted because it would never amount to anything anyway.
So there you sat, legs hanging like lead over the edge, shoulders and back rolled forward in such a way you felt the pull of gravity teetering you towards the floor.
You eyes were the last thing to adjust, keeping them closed for the most part until you found the bravery in you to put forth your feet and stand.
Most days, however, you waited for the castle to erupt.
And that it did.
Although notoriously not an early-riser, Howl had quite gotten into the habit recently for reasons you didn’t bother to explore, aside from petty teatimes with Sophie. His gait was unmistakable as he pounced down the stairs, attempting all the lightness of an antelope in his movements, but only ended up like a clumsy giraffe stumbling down them.
You thought you caught a waft of his new cologne or another from the gap beneath your door.
From there, you listened with an increasingly steady heart, anticipating the next things to come.
Below your feet you heard a mishmash of voices, all their owners very distinct, though their words were dulled by the splintery floorboards supporting your feet, and probably the fact your ears were still deafened to most sounds right now.
Sophie was likely asking what everyone wanted for breakfast, encouraging Michael to fetch you out of bed, to jab you a couple times in the ribs with a broom handle if you were being particularly fussy. He gave some affirmative, you were sure, listening to the lethargic groan of staircase.
Next came Howl’s voice, damn bold, bright, and too fucking chipper for this early in the morning. He was speaking with rapid succession, you could only assume it was a complaint about burnt bacon, or insisting he cook up his own eggs. It wasn’t unfathomable the dolt made mention of some travesty Sophie committed yesterday as well.
“Why you—first thing in the morning! This is what you let fly out of your flap?! I should’ve known you’re no good. Eat your bacon! Shush!” Sophie’s screech was clear and loud, jolting you upright from the remnants of your sleep. “The eggs are fine, you buffoon. There’s nothing—no, there’s nothing wrong with them!”
“I shouldn’t have to make breakfast every morning!” Howl rejoined, being the only thing you could discern through the floorboards before an awful, cacophonous contest of bellows erupted from downstairs.
You rose to your feet then, swaying back on your heels for just a second as you propelled yourself towards the door, throwing it open against the wall just as Michael’s knuckles had come forward on it to knock.
“Oh, mornin’, figured you were awake.” Michael said, rubbing away the sleep in his eyes. “I think Calcifer overcooked the bacon, but you know Howl.”
“Mmmya,” came the grunt from your throat as you sidled past him in the doorway, onward towards the bathroom, missing the kid’s utterly apathetic, distant stare after you.
Even with the thick door shut and the ferocious hiss of water gushing into the bathtub, you still heard traces of their argument downstairs. You tried to pay little heed to it as you sat along the rim of the rub, a foot hiked across your knee as your fingertips glided in a dance across the rippling surface, testing the temperature by plunging your hand to the wrist, smacking your palm on the bottom of the tub.
At this stage in the morning, you didn’t have the capacity to understand and express emotion let alone meditate whatever their spit was today.
As the mirrors dotted throughout the bathroom began to fog, steam swirling around you in white puffs that touched your skin the same as a warm breath; familiar yet always new enough, you shucked off your night clothes and stepped in carefully. You had ran the temperature too high, but your shared frugal nature with Sophie made it but impossible to drain the tub—or worse, use even more water.
The heat nipped at your toes, searing the pads of your feet as you bounced from one to the other. It crept higher to your shins, to your thighs and groin, hips, waist, and finally the rest of you as you slowly submerged your body beneath the fragrant waters. The eucalyptus and lemongrass floated inside your nostrils as you breathed; both a classic, yet harmonious meld that brimmed your lungs and parted from your lips.
“Ah! I knew it! You were the one who stitched a patch into my suit! Michael, look at this hideousness! I can’t wear this!” Howl lamented, his sheer agony managed to seep through the crevices in the floorboards into the bathroom.
You weren’t sure how.
There was a pause, presumably of reluctance before Michael offered his thoughts. “Why not? It looks fine to me.”
“Michael!” Howl exclaimed, his voice jumping a to a higher pitch, clearly affronted. “My own apprentice says such things. Where did I fail? Was it when, out of the kindness of my soul—my very being, Michael, when I let Sophie start sleeping on the cot?”
“Can’t you pipe down?” said Sophie in exasperation. “Some people are trying to enjoy their morning. Now, stop being a baby and go put your suit away.”
Of course, the fighting did not end, and you resigned to drowning out their voices to incoherent shouts for the sake of enjoying your bath. Even still, your eyes floated about the bathroom lazily; noting the many absolute useless trinkets that decorated the walls, to the bottles of dyes and cosmetics rammed haphazardly atop the sink, stacked thoughtlessly.
It was much the same on the adjacent rim of the bathtub touching the wall, Howl’s collection of mysterious dyes, shampoos, scrubs, and washes were all in unmarked glass bottles.
You thought some even glowed.
You could barely bring yourself to look above the containers at the white walls stained like an artist’s palette after a time of mixing, dabbing, adding, and stippling. It was mostly curiosity that led you to reaching a hand above water, attempting to dig a nail under a splotch of vibrant red, grimacing once you realized it was not coming up.
“God, he just needs to suck it up and take some bleach from his sister.” You groused, scraping dutifully at the stain with some hope any amount of red would chip away.
You had anticipated for the fighting downstairs to eventually migrate to the top floor. It was less an attempt of escape on Howl’s part and more of his desire to complain to you until the evening at this new wickedness of Sophie’s.
Predictably, feet pounded up the staircase, rattling the oddities on the walls and jingling others as the hallway exploded with all the ferocity of a thundering stampede. You heard first the noise stop at your bedroom door, Howl’s voice echoing your name urgently before tromping onward.
The eucalyptus was getting deep into your muscles at that point, you didn’t even consider the fact that the tips of Howl’s boot-clad toes peeked beneath the bathroom door.
For some reason, you expected a smidge of courtesy and rapping knuckles against the wood door, not it swinging open hard enough to strike the wall behind it and bounce off it.
Howl surged forward into the bathroom, swiping the steamy air with his suit as he thrust it out at arm’s length. “Look! Look at what what that sad old woman did! Can you see it? This patch is hideous, and right in the elbow! I’m beside myself, you need to stop her—”
“What in the living hell, Howl!” You shouted, unsure of what parts of you were appropriate to cover, so you simply ripped the shower curtain over until all except your head was hidden. “I don’t care! Get out!”
Howl let out a horrified gasp, clutching the suit jacket closer to his chest. “You don’t care? What world am I living in that my sweetest, my beloved does not share in my pain? We swore ourselves to share agony and hardships and—”
“Oh my god, Howell! I’m trying to take a bath! Scram!” The first bottle flung was in plastic, an orange dye to be precise. Your hands felt along the cluttered wall for anything else light. “Git! Git! Git!”
Howl ducked around your onslaught, nearing closer to the door as he went. “That awful woman! Look at how she’s rubbed off on you! I won’t forgive her.”
“Holy hell, Howell! Go!"
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divider by; @/anlian-aishang
reposted from my deleted blog, cardeneiv
please interact and reblog if you enjoyed!!
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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 6 months
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take 2
nico hischier x actress!f!reader
fc: sophie turner
warnings: swearing
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liked by treaclychild, landonorris and 840,971 others
ynofficial: i heart nj
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claudiasulewski: first
maya_henry: mother is mothering
user1: WHO IS COWBOY
ynofficial: you mean you haven't heard 'cowboy like me'?
user2: what of nico?????
user3: DID HE SLIDE INTO UR DMS
taylorswift: i heart u
liked by ynofficial
user4: POV you came from deuxmoi's blind item 👀
user5: oui
ayoedebiri: ur pretty
jackhughes: yo
user6: no
user7: this is the wrong nj player commenting, i forbit it
user8: jack baby snap out of it
user9: only y/n could get the captain to wink at her and the social media heartthrob to comment on her ig
user10: ✨✨✨ BEST BELIEVE I'M STILL BEJEWELED ✨✨✨
liked by ynoffocial
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deuxmoi: there were a few blind items submitted relating to the same A lister and athlete, and others also hinted at said sports star's respected status in the city, and his private nature, thus the lack of photos from the night
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user11: LOVING HIM WAS REDDDDD
user12: no bc i ship it so hard
user13: there's absolutely zero way that they're not talking about y/n and nico 😭
user14: in y/n's recent post she was wearing a sparkly star dress too
user15: me bc nico won't be protected from all the y/n girlies anymore: 😢😢
user16: THEY MOVE FAST IF THIS IS TRUE
user17: okay but my thinking is that they knew each other prior to the hockey game???
user18: RIGHT???
user19: THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT THE WAY HE KNEW WHERE SHE WAS SITTING THERE'S NO WAY A HOCKEY PLAYER CAN PINPOINT SOMEONE'S SEAT THAT QUICK UNLESS THEY ALREADY KNEW WHERE THEY WERE SITTING
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nicohischier posted to their story...
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hockeygossip: LATE ARRIVAL FOR Y/N L/N TO NASHVILLE HOCKEY AWARDS 2023. PICTURED WITH DEVILS HOCKEY CAPTAIN NICO HISCHIER MOMENTS AFTER HER LATE ARRIVAL.
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ynofficial: because the first launch failed ☺️
📸: nicohischier ❤️
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user21: IT'S HAPPENING IT'S HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CALM
user22: [tyres screech] [distant crash] [sirens] [crying] [heartbeat monitor]
user23: AHHHAH AHHAA HAHA *faints*
user24: he's taking a photo of her 😭
user25: the way she's looking at him and his concentration 😭
user26: your honour they're in love
user27: YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THE GAME THING WAS THE INITIAL HARD LAUNCH BUT WE ALL MISINTERPRETED IT???
ynofficial: ...yes
user28: WE'RE DUMB WE APOLOGISE
jackhughes: this is cute
nicohischier: can i get your number?
ynofficial: sure, it's #13
nicohischier: 😲😲
user29: you know it's SERIOUS bc she's never been ig official before
user30: fr she didn't even post callum mf turner, if i was her i'd have been yelling from the rooftops
user31: SHE SAID ALL THAT ABOUT HIM IN AN INTERVIEW OH MY GOD I'M DYING
user33: 'he's patient, kind, intelligent, calm, and just a really beautiful soul' I BELIEVED IN YOU NICO ALL THIS TIME
user34: nico fans are really winning here
user35: SHE MADE IT FOR THE END OF THE AWARDS
user36: but that pap photo from instagram? the way they were looking at each other has me in my own puddle of tears in a nest of already used tissues bc they're adorable
user37: that photo single-handedly instilled in me the belief that love does exist
user38: they're my 'don't take risks on dangerous roads' couple now
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nicohischier: it's come to my attention that there's been a lot of talk about my relationship lately, and i just wanted to come on here and confirm that i am batshit crazy for this woman, and pathetically in love with her. so, yes, the rumours are true 😊
ps i have the dad seal of approval
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jackhughes: first
john.marino97: whipped
nicohischier: yep 💪
jackhughes: why are you ignoring me
nicohischier: because you haven't said anything worth commenting on
ynofficial: i'm a sports watcher for you
nicohischier: appreciate it, thanks
ynofficial: you're welcome
user39: i think i love this awkward conversing
user40: it's my aspiration in life to have that
lhughes_06: happy for you, cap 😁
jackhughes: *cough* suck up *cough*
tmeier96: ABOUT DAMN TIME 👏👏
ynofficial: you can rip that NDA up now
tmeier96: i might frame it for sentimental purposes
ynofficial: really?
nicohischier: that's suspicious
siegenthaler34: in my defence i did try my best with the jumbotron incident
nicohischier: and we're very thankful for that
ynofficial: if anything it helped thicken the plot 😂
siegenthaler34: it was pretty funny
user41: THE y/n l/n being the captain's wag wasn't on my bingo card for this year
nicohischier: you and me both
ynofficial: please, i was a goner from the very SECOND you smiled
nicohischier: the very second? 😏
ynofficial: stfu and bring the coffee
nicohischier: as you wish
+ BONUS: Spittin Chiclets Podcast
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saintmeghanmarkle · 4 months
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Markle's psychopathic stalker obsession with Catherine is unprecedented in public life. Can you think of anything to compare? by u/ElectricalAd9212
Markle's psychopathic stalker obsession with Catherine is unprecedented in public life. Can you think of anything to compare? OK so its clear that the book by the Eunuch Scobie is nothing more than Markle's psychopathic hatred and obsession of Catherine in particular wrapped up in nonsense and 'woke' rhetoric occasionally (like saying that Sophie is bigoted because she didn't acknowledge Oprah Winfrey)But I have a deeper concern.I first stepped back and began to think Markle is a sociopath when the Ghoul and Vampire of Uvalde took a camera crew to get publicity from murdered children.However this really is something else.I cannot think of anyone in public life who has engaged in a multi-year stalker obsession of hatred against someone else like this ever.Its the level of psychopathic obsession that would warrant a restraining order in normal life.Dare I say Markle's hatred and obsession of Catherine appears to be almost violent, and murderous in intensity?It has been years and years and years and years since she moved to America.But her sole reason for existence even today is to spit hatred and bile at the Princess of Wales. She acts like she screeches at the sky about Catherine.I can just picture Markle sitting in the attic and cutting out magazine pictures of Catherine and scratching her eyes out. And Scobie helping her.This is not normal. It is unhinged and psychiatrically unhinged.There has never been anything like this before.People need to start calling her the psychopath.She needs to be called what she is.Can anyone else think of a comparable person in our lifetime like her? This psychopathic obsessiveness is inexhaustable. post link: https://ift.tt/rEd6AMV author: ElectricalAd9212 submitted: November 27, 2023 at 11:22PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit
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sgiandubh · 4 months
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Anon rebelde
Como bien señalas en la cena hay matrimonios entonces, que impide que Cait acuda a la misma con el que dice que es su esposo? O ese *esposo solo le sirve de vez en cuando para para calentar los ánimos en un fandom fácilmente caldeable? Ya sabemos que Sam está en Londres así que Cait no puede estar allí y en Glasgow tampoco, esas obras no acaban nunca 🤣
Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,
Y muy reactiva, hoy. 😉 Como se dice en Chile: 'a ver, a ver/por qué llora esta mujer'?
'As you very well observed, there were couples invited to that dinner. So, why would Cait not be there with the one she says it's her husband? Or would that be that the *husband* is only useful once in a while, to fire up tempers in a fandom that's easily heated? We know that Sam is in London, so Cait cannot be there or in Glasgow, so it never ends. 🤣'
You know I agree with everything you wrote, spare one detail: S was apparently not in LHR in October, when the Belfast dinner took place. I had to go look at my archives and make some sense of the context. And although I am not Marple, I couldn't help but notice last October was a very active networking/promo/shit show month for both of them, as the SAG-AFTRA strike was still not over yet.
Just a short summing up:
October 4, 2023 - C's 44th birthday and another mysterious donation to Project CaiTreena/One Tree Planted. S in NYC for drinks and Departures interview with Sophie Mancini. Fandom gets ballistic speculating - an empty 💩, of course.
October 5, 2023 - S in NYC for the Keepers of the Quaich US Chapter gala, with Norouzi (as I predicted) and Mancini. C's whereabouts unknown - not the US, I suppose. Maybe in LHR, re-enacting that Prophet Song excerpt, on behalf of the Booker Prize?
October 8, 2023 - C spotted in LHR for Harrods Iconic Dining Hall Relaunch hosted by Stanley Tucci, with McIdiot (the only time, that month!). Hullaballo ensues for something very close to a nothing burger. S supposedly in GLA, as shown by FaceTime snippet convo with Amanda Tutschek, Venice Beach topless artist extraordinaire. Date of above FaceTime snippet - unknown.
October 10, 2023 - S confirmed in GLA, likely latergram (IG SS gin pics taken on own driveway). C confirmed in LHR, first by Gareth Bromell, then by Getty Image pics at Loewe Foundation's Studio Voltaire Award. Sans McIdiot.
October 17, 2023 - S signs APUK's Palestine letter, whereabouts unknown (my bet is on NYC/Nevis). C confirmed in LHR at the Portia Coughlan play Press Night/After Party, Almeida Theatre. Sans McIdiot, but with Tobias. LOL.
October 19, 2023 - S on Jimmy Fallon's Tonight Show, in NYC. Ring ding ding proves to be a very effective lookie here, not there prop. C's whereabouts unknown, as S's in the October 10-17 interval (Nevis? both? That would be my best bet, and yeah, go ahead and screech. I DGAF).
October 25, 2023 - S confirmed in GLA, despite posting 'from Nevis' the same day and shirtless thirst trap the next day. C's whereabouts unknown? Not really, I should say.
Back to the Northern Irish dinner - bear with me, Anon Rebelde, I am trying to pinpoint a date, here. Begin Again, Jeffers' book that prompted it, was out in the US on October 2 and in UK/Canada and Ireland on October 10:
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October was a dementedly busy month for the author, as shown by the excruciating dates of his North American and UK book launch tours (https://www.oliverjeffers.com/begin-again-book-tour):
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One of the events surrounding this launch was held at Belfast's Crescent Arts Centre in partnership with No Alibis Bookstore, on October 24. Best thing? He is dressed exactly like in the NYT article pics.
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My best bet is that dinner took place in Belfast on October 24, Anon Rebelde or at the latest on October 25 (next to 0 chance, given the identical attire, but let's allow some margin of error to our estimate).
As for Jeffers' position on the Israel-Hamas Gaza War (which, may I remind you, started on October 7), I think this is a very clear statement:
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You draw your own conclusions, Anon Rebelde. I am here to try and bring some clarity in a shitstorm, not brainwash you.
Always waiting for your input, which is much appreciated! Hasta luego, hija de la rebeldía!
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PS: The timeline game was fucking exhausting. I am not the Securitate, so you won't see me play at that any time soon :)
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squipedmew · 5 months
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to celebrate secret life dropping today heres a meme i drew a while ago
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baeshijima · 3 months
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my pretty rofan sooae
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u will always be famous to me 🫶
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checkoutmybookshelf · 2 months
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You Have My Attention: Bridgerton First Lines
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I literally cannot believe I haven't done a First Lines for Bridgerton yet!!! Thanks to the Netflix series, Bridgerton itself needs little introduction. However, Julia Quinn still had to catch her readers, and those first sentences are crucial for that. House rules for this one are that we will do the prologue and first chapter first lines (with the exception of When He was Wicked, which just doesn't have a prologue for some reason), because let's face it: We want to meet both our love interests. Let's see how she does it!
Prologue
The birth of Simon Arthur Henry Fitzranulph Basset, Earl Clyvdon, was met with great celebration.
Chapter 1
"Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh!" Violet Bridgertin crumpled the single-page newspaper into a ball and hurled it across the elegant drawing room.
Her daughter Daphne wisely made no comment and pretended to be engrossed in her embroidery.
-- The Duke and I
Prologue
Anthony Bridgerton had always known he would die young.
Chapter 1
"Please don't tell me," Kate Sheffield said to the room at large, "that she is writing about Viscount Bridgerton again."
-- The Viscount Who Loved Me
Prologue
Everyone knew Sophie Beckett was a bastard.
Chapter 1
"Sophie! Sophieeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
As screeches went, it was enough to shatter glass. Or at least an eardrum.
-- An Offer from a Gentleman
Prologue
On the sixth of April, in the year 1812--precisely two days before her sixteenth birthday--Penelope Featherington fell in love.
Chapter 1
"Look at this!" Portia Featherington squealed. "Colin Bridgerton is back!"
-- Romancing Mister Bridgerton
Prologue
It was ironic, really, that it had happened on such a sunny day.
Chapter 1
Eloise Bridgerton smoothed the well-read sheet of paper across her lap.
-- To Sir Phillip, With Love
Chapter 1
In every life there is a turning point. A moment so tremendous, so sharp and clear that one feels as if one’s been hit in the chest, all the breath knocked out, and one knows, absolutely knows without the merest hint of a shadow of a doubt that one’s life will never be the same. For Michael Stirling, that moment came the first time he laid eyes on Francesca Bridgerton.
Chapter 2
For all his faults—and Francesca was willing to allow that Michael Stirling had many—he really was the dearest man.
-- When He was Wicked
Prologue
There were four principles governing Gareth St. Clair's relationship with his father that he relied upon to maintain his good humor snd general sanity.
Chapter 1
"Why do we do this to ourselves?" Hyacinth Bridgerton wondered aloud.
-- It's In His Kiss
Prologue
His lungs were on fire. Gregory Bridgerton was running.
Chapter 1
Unlike most men of his acquaintance, Gregory Bridgerton believed in true love.
-- On the Way to the Wedding
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liketwoswansinbalance · 3 months
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Round III of Excerpts from The One True School Master of Vault 41
Agatha turned to the Rafal. "Interesting,” she nodded. "I'm sure you don't remember the names of all the masses you've murdered, but tell me, whose face do you see in your nightmares?" she prompted expectantly.
“Rh—h-hACK,” said he, the Evil sorcerer.
“What? Come again?” Agatha prodded all too knowingly as she got to her feet.
Rafal seized up and started to convulse silently. Something was obstructing his airways.
Sophie hopped up from her seat. “Aggie! He’s choking, Aggie!” she squawked.
“Oh! Well, do something then! He’s yours to look after!” Agatha crossed her arms and stared Rafal dead in the eye as he suffocated, daring him to try anything.
“B-but, I don’t know how to—" Sophie’s voice died in her throat as she fluttered her hands in distress. She looked at Agatha in askance. "Would you revive or resuscitate..."
Agatha shook her head stubbornly. She was Sophie's savior and no one else's. On occasion, she would save Tedros, but he usually wouldn't let her save him. "If he dies now, there'll be no one to blame and it'll be of natural causes. And, I'll be doing Tedros a favor by sparing him a heart attack. He's been through so much already, I'm not sure his heart could take another shock, like the one in front of us."
Sophie exhaled, ready to blow up, flustered and red. She could barely get words out, and froze in place. Her ribcage throbbed with panic, like she’d swallowed her heart whole.
She turned to Kiko, next, to seek help, but found that Kiko was gone! Sophie hadn’t noticed that the Evergirl, the only one she could expect a scrap of human decency from had fled from the table!
Turning bluer by the second, Rafal stopped clutching his throat.
He stood up abruptly, chair scraping the glass floor as it skidded back with a screech. He motioned with his hands to signal to the girls that they didn’t have to intervene, dismissing them.
Gripping the table, he leaned on it, bent over its edge, and thrust his fists against his diaphragm hard, dislodging what had caught in his throat.
A saliva-coated coin of cucumber shot out of his windpipe and hit Agatha squarely in the eye.
Sophie sagged in relief.
The slice of cucumber slid down Agatha’s cheek leaving a trail of spittle. “Well, that’s settled,” she griped sullenly. She flumped down on her seat cushion again, long, rangy limbs askew. “Too bad you’re alive.”
“Too bad indeed. For you,” Rafal smirked, stretching his tensed jaw so it clicked.
Agatha winced. “After yet another run-in with death, you’re still here. Guess my luck’s run dry for good. Will Lady Fortune ever be on my side?”
“Not if you don’t cease with the complaining,” he taunted, “If only I could stretch you beneath her wheel, but alas… I’m beholden to your dear friend.”
“Enough,” Sophie boomed as she slammed her hands on the glass table. The table shuddered, and the filigree bone china jittered as several serving dishes clinked together.
Agatha and Rafal swiveled to look at her.
“That’s it,” Sophie fumed, “I’ll put up with none of this infantile bickering while I’m present. You two must learn to cooperate. I know you don’t trust him, Agatha, darling, and admittedly, I don’t either, but I think he’s trying, at the very least, to be helpful, so be civil. The same goes for you as well, Rafal. At least try to look contrite. And remember: my say is final.”
All three fell silent for a moment.
"If you actually were wondering,” Rafal told Agatha, "The answer is Rhian. His face has haunted my dreams every night since he died.”
[Note: A lot comes to pass between these two scenes, so don’t expect them to be perfectly chronological. I just thought the shift could be fun to see.
And, this second section takes place earlier on in the plot by the way. We're nowhere near the climax with these two excerpts.
Also, watch what you think, Agatha. Some dreadful irony will come back to bite you, and everyone to be fair.
Oh, and did anyone catch the Shakespeare reference?]
Good's glass walls beamed back the moonlight like searchlights spilling from the columns. The walls were truly a spectacular sight, the mazes of halls all illuminated in silver.
Yet beauty and brilliant lighting do not the optimum conditions for breaking and entering make.
Every polished facet contained Agatha’s reflection, exposing her in her black robes. And, she was well-aware of this disadvantage, but she would never be able to slip away during the day, so night it was.
She rounded the bend and her spine prickled with the familiar sensation of being watched.
After her run-in with Professor Anemone, she now roamed the halls with much less fear. This time, she encountered a different petrified faculty member. Pollux.
She reached up and knocked lightly at the space between his eyes. Nearly soundlessly, it echoed, muffled by his thick-skulled, furred brow.
Just what she’d thought, he had nothing but a load of fluff in there. Agatha laughed to herself.
The labyrinthine glass breezeways, went winding and overlapping every which way, breathtaking in their complexity, but Agatha had discovered that no matter which corridor she turned into, the swathes of friezes lining the walls would direct her, pointing her in the same direction, hopefully the right direction.
The pearlescent friezes were inlaid with nacre, and they cast ribboned, iridescent rainbows when it was day. Though now, they gleamed a dim silver.
There they were, the figures frozen in motion, a goose girl’s tresses, a farm lad’s cap blown in the wind, trees doubled over, all bowing to the same current.
Certainly, they had been revised, but by whom?
All in one, singular direction they went, one after another in a sundry procession: fairy godmothers’ crystalline wands, soldiers’ spears, kings’ scepters, shamans’ pipes and tapering beards, Seers’ gazes, wizards’ staffs, fair maidens’ dismembered, white fingers, birds’ beaks, mermens’ tridents, agrarians’ pitchforks, crowds’ pennants, jousters’ lances, heraldic banners fluttering aloft, sylphs’ wispy tails, cupids’ arrows, and quixotic princes’ swords.
Agatha could not make heads or tails of these strange alterations to the scenes acting as her guides. They were most probably leading her to her final destination, as if they were conspiring to help her. But her theft would be a far cry from a Good Deed. It breached the Rules.
It was as if the School itself were supporting her theft from it. Or, could it be?
She stopped short.
And a prideful voice projected from somewhere sounded, reverberating through the glass-enclosed tunnel. “Move,” it told her with marked disdain and thinly veiled impatience.
It was coming from the walls, she concluded. Agatha looked about uneasily, thoroughly unsettled, and spun on her heels to face them. The carvings.
She stared intently at the wall closest to her.
A lean, cloaked prince was posed in the midst of slaying a serpentine creature that curled in on itself, swallowing its own tail. It was circular, made of a writhing mass of things.
Agatha shuddered involuntarily as she studied it. The beast’s scales resembled Japeth’s Scims a great deal. All snakes reminded her of Japeth these days. A wyrm, was it? No, it was an ouroboros.
And the prince’s banner, it was a gloomier, storm-cloud grey, silver like the Wish Fish. And it had a swan gracing it, an odd, obsidian piece of glass set into the frieze, looking darker than the rest of the banners. Still, it held gleams of iridescence. It was just duller and darker in finish than the other coats of arms. Almost, just almost, Evil’s banner.
The prince turned to her from his carved position, pointed his sword ahead and glared right at her. His swan crest blinked and seemed to glare down at her as well.
“Move, you imbecile,” said a cold, villainous, not particularly princely voice from the carved figure. “We don't have all night.”
Agatha stared dumbfounded.
"Yes, it's me,” Rafal’s voice seethed. “And I can't hold them frozen forever. So, go.”
Agatha stepped away from the wall, and proceeded down the last few lengths of the hall.
No, impossible. Rafal helping her was impossible, she thought breathlessly. Laughable. She was tempted to scoff, but held herself back since she didn’t want to take this one-time occurrence for granted.
Rafal. Of course. Always had to represent his own side, she supposed. The depraved madcap. Couldn’t masquerade as Good for a day, could he? If he had to be Good, he’d croak. She was sure of it. There wasn’t a single thing in these green Woods he could do to repent, help or no help. Not a thing.
He always had to be so maddeningly obvious about his darker, murderous instincts. His cold voice had been a dead giveaway. Even Sophie was subtler. And Sophie, subtle? No chance of it! He was just worse by comparison, that was all.
All the doom and gloom and the no-nonsense demeanor, it got tiring after a while. Christ, had she been like that before?
Agatha had masqueraded as a witch her whole life and look where it had gotten her. Just once, she wished she could see him beaten down and forced to act a harder role. Imagine, him, dealt a harder role to play. Like hers.
Had he ever been oppressed in his life? He was an oppressor! Well, Evil had been oppressed, but that was his own doing. He’d brought the curse upon himself by slaughtering his own brother!
You could do anything while Evil. But Good came with restrictions. The Nevers were freer, truly. They didn’t chastise bad manners and loud chewing. Well, Rafal seemed to, for Sophie’s sake. But Agatha knew most Nevers wouldn’t care a jot about tea party etiquette.
So long Rafal and thanks for all the help. I hope you wind up dead.
She had the urge to look back, but nevertheless, she turned away from the carved prince as he took up his sword and animatedly resumed fighting his battle with the ouroboros, blade clashing against scales, as if he were fighting his own violent rebirth.
Agatha was certain that this robbery wasn’t exactly the sort of cooperation Sophie had in mind, but it would have to do. It was the most they could muster up. And what did it matter now?
She gripped the crystal knob to Professor Dovey's office and turned it. Locked. Drat!
Then, she heard a clink and something pin-like skidded across the floor. The carved prince’s tiny sword.
She inserted it into the lock, and silently thanked Rafal. Maybe, he wasn’t so corrupt after all.
She tucked the sword into her pocket, and tentatively entered Professor Dovey’s office. She didn’t look back at the frieze, now converted into an ivory scene of bloodshed instead of victory. Nor did she catch sight of the tiny prince being disemboweled by the ouroboros, gutted through the gaps of the plating in his armor, leaking entrails, and succumbing to a theatrical “death” without his tiny sword.
The miniature black swan banner finally tipped and sank with a metallic clank, fluttering up like a flag of surrender before it settled on the ground.
After he was “killed,” Rafal exited the wall. A decent practice session in dying, he thought. Though it wasn't quite right. And being eviscerated wasn't a pleasant way to go, he found. He mentally crossed that method off his list.
The frieze reverted back to a prince frozen in the motion of slaying the ouroboros once again, banner branded with a white swan, as if Rafal had never been there at all.
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sea-owl · 17 days
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The Cain instinct thing is so funny to me especially if I imagine it with the Modern Spouse Group. Like imagine Anthony's last thought of Simon is with the lone wolf single child vibes and then years later (after meeting Kate), he goes to visit Simon in his office and hears unholy screeching only to stumble in his office watching dumbfounded as Kate and Simon are fistfighting and rolling on the floor tearing each other apart like they were in a death match inside a cage because Simon ate the lunch that Mary made for Kate (who left it in Simon's office because she thought he would be busy with meetings the whole day). "HOW DARE YOU EAT MY LUNCH!!!" "WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE IT UNATTENDED HUH??!! YOU KNOW I GET HUNGRY AFTER TERRORIZING WHITE MEN!!!"
Anon, I want you to know I had to set my phone down I was laughing so hard at this.
I adore the thought that the spouses Cain instincts just unleashing on one another as they all grow closer.
Simon was perfectly (not) fine until these heathens came crashing into his life. He'll do anything for them but he swears to all that is holy if any of them steals his good snacks ONE MORE TIME HE'S DROP KICKING THEM!
Mama bear Kate will show no mercy to those who would dare try to hurt her weird little found family. But she's also merciless to them during game night and god forbid you're bad at cheating.
Sophie, being the one to tattoo them all, has seen the scars each one of them hides or wants covered up. She takes great consideration of the meaning of each symbol they bring to her to put on their bodies. She has even done some research to make suggestions. Sophie is also gonna make fun of them during their tattoo appointments based on their level of pain tolerance. Simon's is the worst. He's the biggest baby in her chair. Meanwhile, some of the girls have literally fallen asleep while Sophie was tattooing them.
None of the group would blink if they walked into the trio's flat to find Michael and Phillip fist fighting on the floor. Meanwhile, Penelope is climbing on the back of the couch to pile drive on both of them because she WILL NOT BE IGNORED! But they also won't blink if they find the three of them platonically cuddling because one of them was having a bad day and the other two offered comfort.
Gareth and Lucy will 1000% use the knowledge that they are the babies of the group to get Simon and Kate to do what they want. Rarely works on the other four, though, who, as the middle children, are required to put the two in a headlock so Simon and Kate won't give in.
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