#renée: thread

[dhampiravidi]

"You’re okay, you’re okay." (Roguey comforting Renee after a nightmare or after something scary happened ;u;)

Renée was like her Mama in a lot of ways, even if they weren't related by blood. They had very distinct accents, got defensive fairly easily, loved acoustic covers, and, most notably, they really weren't afraid of much. So if Renée Michele was sobbing and shaking like she was, especially at the age of ten (when she and her peers were hellbent on being tough X-Men) something awful had happened.

"H-he had me, he hurt me..." She was sitting in her Mama's lap, curled up and trembling like a newborn pup. Anna Marie had been the second one in the room, but she was the only one who could pick up Renée, whose skin had been crackling with electricity. Hestia had to fight to keep Stitch under, and she was almost shaking as much as her daughter. She checked the window and the closet just to make sure nothing was lurking, then assured everyone in the hall that things were being handled, all while holding back tears. Remy had taken a seat by his little girl as soon as her powers had come under control. He held her hand, and he couldn't help but remember how small it'd been when she was born. Hestia finally sat next to him. They both looked as if they'd aged ten years.

"Who did, petite?" Remy asked softly, thinking he could make whatever monster she'd dreamed up seem silly. She wasn't old enough to go on missions, and her parents had been careful not to let any strangers see her mutated eyes, for fear they might be anti-mutant.

Renée had kept her eyes shut tight ever since her parents had turned the lights on. But when her Daddy spoke to her, she opened them, red irises looking into the same.

"De vampire man."

All three adults traded glances before turning their attention back to Renée. Except for that time Wade had been left with her (long story; would not be happening again), they really were careful to restrict what she was exposed to. What could she have seen that resembled a murderous vampire?

"What--uh, what was he doing, hm?" Hestia asked. Renée shivered and tried to curl up even tighter. Her Mommy immediately regretted speaking.

"H-he put wires in me, n' he kept pokin' at me..."

"Wires, like in a robot?" She shook her head.

"Like n' a hospital." Remy's jaw clenched. He made sure he wasn't holding onto anything he could charge up.

"She's talkin' about Sinister," he hissed, only calming down when he saw that he was scaring Renée. Hestia wiped her own tears away. Sinister had had one of his minions take their daughter only two years after she was born. According to what the rest of the team found in his lab, Sinister was curious to see what the child of a symbiote's host could do. He also had a sick fascination with Remy. The three parents still felt like they had failed Renée since Sinister had escaped. He was out there somewhere. They couldn't lie and say he was dead, just for him to show up again.

It was amazing and horrible that their daughter even remembered him at all.

"We are always going to be here for you. Even if things get scary, we will never let anyone take you away," Hestia managed, holding back a sob.

"Promise?" She got nods and weak smiles in response.

"You wanna come sleep wit' us?" Renée was about to turn her daddy down, to lie and say that she wasn't really that scared--"We'll play cards firs'. I got a new game t'show ya."

"Really?" She sniffled and tried to make herself presentable in the way that only a spunky ten-year-old could, scrambling out of her mama's arms so she could stand up. "Y'sure it's new? 'Cause ya taught me gin rummy yesterday," she reminded Remy. He just chuckled, leaning in to kiss her forehead before he pulled her into a quick hug.

"Yeah! Ya t'ink I got ya' somethin. C'mon, girl." And so Remy led Renée to the big bed in the next room.

[yuichiroswife]

{ I should bring back my Renè muse that I used on Discord with @s-talking just so him and Envy can beat the shit out of each other again... like they did before. 🤔 }

[torpublishinggroup]

GET BOOKT

A guide of books to gift the people in your life and yourself!

For the people looking to put a different kind of magic into their holidays…

The Fragile Threads of Power by V. E. Schwab

For the genre connoisseur with a love for high concepts in short form… 

Africa Risen edited by Sheree Renée Thomas, Oghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki, & Zelda Knight (now in paperback!)

For the treasured party member who’s saved your character’s life many times on TTRPG night…

Bookshops & Bonedust by @travisbaldree

━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━

For those who love (or possibly are 👀) gay werewolves

Wolfsong by TJ Klune

For the mutual who devoured the epic highs and lows of Riverdale and craves more…

The Luminaries by Susan Dennard, now in paperback!)

━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━

For your brave and luckless friend, constantly trapped in transit purgatory and upset about it…

The Dead Take the A Train by Cassandra Khaw & Richard Kadrey

For the true buckaroos trotting beside you…

Camp Damascus by @drchucktingle

For the friend who says “but have we considered burning it all down?” on an alarming and refreshingly regular basis…

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin

━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━

For the friend who has a hot date on Friday night (with their book)...

Fall of Ruin and Wrath by Jennifer L. Armentrout

For the avid doodler who sketches plans for their future volcanic villain lair equipped with a space laser…

Starter Villain by @jscalzi

━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━

Not enough books? We agree. Check out our other GET BOOKT guide.

[yoursweetvalo]

List of books and movies mentioned by Acchan!

Might post an anime version of this soon <3

BOOKS:

仮面の告白 “Confessions of a Mask” by Yukio Mishima (1949)

生きるヒント “Living Tips” by Itsuki Hiroyuki (1993)

斜陽 “The Setting Sun”  by Osamu Dazai (1947)

“The Picture of Dorian Gray” by Oscar Wilde (1890)

こころ”Heart” by Natsume Soseki (1914)

“Crime and Punishment” by Fyodor Dostoevsky (1866)

人間失格“No Longer Human” by Osamu Dazai (1948)

死霊“Death Spirits” by Yutaka Haniya (1948)

猫鳴り “Neko Nari” by Numata Mahokaru (2007)

“Coin Locker Babies” by Ryu Murakami (1980)

グロテスク “Grotesque” by Natsuo Kirino (2003)

“Notes from Underground” by Fyodor Dostoevsky (1864)

“The Brothers Karamazov” by Fyodor Dostoevsky (1879-1880)

“Salomé” by Oscar Wilde (1891)

破局 “Catastrophe” by Tono Haruka (2020)

新宿鮫 “Shinjuku Shark” by Arimasa Osawa (1990)

堕落論 “Discourse on Decadence” by Ango Sakaguchi (1946)

五分後の世界 “The World Five Minutes from Now” by Ryu Murakami (1994)

*Manga*悪魔の花嫁 “Bride of Deimos” by Etsuko Ikeda, illust. By Yuuho Ashibe (1974-1990)

九月が永遠に続けば “To Continue Forever in September” by Numata Mahokaru (2005)

彼女がその名を知らない鳥たち “Birds Without Names” by Numata Mahokaru (2006)

怒り”Rage” by Shuichi Yoshida (2014)

悪人 “Villain” by Shuichi Yoshida (2007)

MOVIES:

The Green Mile by Frank Darabont (1999)

Bohemian Rhapsody by Bryan Singer (2018)

The Godfather by Francis Ford Coppola (1972)

Pierrot the Fool by Jean-Luc Godard (1965)

The Elephant Man by David Lynch (1980)

老ナルキソス Old Narcissus by Tsuyoshi Shouji (2023)

時計は生きていたThe Clock was Alive by Seijiro Kouyama (1973)

The Mission by Roland Joffé (1986)

Poongsan by Juhn Jai-Hong (2011)

Midnight FM by Kim Sang-man (2010)

Pusher by Nicolas Winding Refn (1996)

Misery by Rob Reiner (1990)

From Paris with Love by Pierre Morel (2010)

異人たちとの夏 The Discarnates by Nobuhiko Obayashi (1988)

Purple Noon by René Clément (1960)

Bonnie and Clyde by Arthur Penn (1967)

狂い咲きサンダーロード Crazy Thunder Road by Gakuryuu Ishii (1980)

Undo by Shunji Iwai (1994)

犬神家の一族  The Inugami Family by Kon Ichikawa (1976)

The Shawshank Redemption by Frank Darabont (1994)

The Brave by Johnny Depp (1997)

Here is the link to my actual twitter thread, I update it every time I run into a new book or movie he has mentioned! The information to make this list was taken from several inerviews, radio programs, and even some of the Fish Tank Bulletins. If you know any other book/movie he has mentioned but is not here, do not hesitate to let me know!

ENJOY!

[pretzel-box]

Sebastian scowled deeply, his broad, muscular frame wedged uncomfortably into a plastic chair. A certain blue-haired menace had shoved him into it with no concern for his dignity—or the fact that his sensitive tail was now crammed awkwardly against the hard plastic. His back screamed in protest, and all Sebastian could think of was how much he wanted a brick—preferably two—to hit Sasha square in the face.

“Anyways, that’s why we’re here,” Sasha concluded her rambling monologue, sipping cold instant coffee as if it were the finest brew. She perched on her own plastic chair, clipboard on her lap, annoyingly comfortable. Why? Because she had a pillow. A pillow that Sebastian was now actively fantasizing about smothering her with.

“What?” Sebastian growled, trying to focus despite the torture device they called a chair. He hadn’t been listening, not really. The only thing he cared about was why in the world she had trapped him in this nightmare of cheap plastic. Maybe he could jot down her reason on her gravestone later.

Sasha shot him a smirk, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “God, Seb. Did the plastic chair squeeze your brain cells out of your bu—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he warned, his patience hanging by a thread.

As the two bickered, the scene around them was no less ridiculous. They were seated in what could only be described as a half-finished construction hall, with a makeshift stage in the middle. Lanterns hung haphazardly above it, casting a dim, uneven light, like a knock-off Broadway production. And across the stage, a banner hung proudly, the black letters sprawled in a tragically misspelled announcement:

**R O O M M A T C A S T I N G**

Roommat casting.

Sebastian squinted at the banner, incredulous. "Roommat... Casting?"

Before he could even digest the absurdity, you strolled onto the stage, taking in the scene with your unique creation, called OC. You glanced up at the banner, eyes widening slightly before you burst into laughter. “Roommat Casting, huh? So, what, we're auditioning to be someone's far cousin of a doormat?”

Sebastian groaned, sinking deeper into the torture chair. "If I survive this, Sasha's definitely getting a brick.”

“So, who are you?” Sasha asked, leaning forward with that signature smirk of hers, eyeing you curiously.

Sebastian was about to jump in and argue that this whole thing—interview, or whatever Sasha was pretending it was—was an absolute waste of time. In fact, he was mentally preparing himself to smash the plastic chair beneath him and storm out. The chair, after all, had it coming.

Around 3 hours passed, 15 cups of coffee, and a bunch of people that live here in the blackside.

“Are we done?” Sebastian groaned before Sasha stood up. Unlike him, she wasn’t stuck in a chair.

“Indeed. I found the perfect people.”

And with that, welcome to the final announcement for the House of Entities.

I got plenty of submissions and would like to thank everyone for the support and the opportunity to try out such a funny community project!

Please, welcome our newfound blackside residents!

@pretzel-box with Sasha

@glowingsquiddragon with Tapu

@kairikibearist with René

@hampterfae with Cheshire

@fuyunoshimo with Amilia

@pompohills with Angela Meri

@immahuman with Violet

@frazilfraz with Roxy

@creator-of-creativious with Allo

@the-reader22 with Osiris

@iamactuallyacrow with Asterion

@nicksies1 with Nick

@seaxarchives with Casimir

@chamomilesweettea with Nautilea

@agonybell84 with Garpol

@hightoasterr with Cyrus

@splatting-stampede with Cordelia

@xyurishux with Yuri

@bombcake with Pearl

and finally @theroseofazrael with Hanako

[This author may or may not forgot to ask for some peoples tumblr tags. Will be added once I recieve the names. Sorry. If someone is missing, please text me.]

Credit for all ocs goes to the original creator, thank you all for participating and letting me use your ocs!

I can't guarantee 100% accuracy, but I hope you all will like seeing your creation in this project anyway.

[randomishnickname]

Just reread A Civil Campaign and my gooood i had forgotten how funny and thrilling and complex that book is. There's so much stuff happening! It's pure chaos everywhere! And yet it's all intervowen and makes perfect sense! Wonderful.

Quick overview of all the plot threads in A Civil Campaign, please help me out if i forgot some:

Miles' "secret" (*cough*) and catastrophic courting of Ekaterin

Ekaterin starting a new life in Vorbarr Sultana and fending off suitors left and right

Kareen Koudelka fighting to get her parents to accept her new galactic mores

Mark launching the Butterbug Business and all the delightful messes that ensue

René "Ghembretten" fighting for his claim to the Vorbretten Countship

Dono Vorrutyer fighting for the claim to his own Countship and all the shenanigans and intrigues that ensue

Escobaran police trying to get their hand on the wicked Doctor Enrique Borgos (Enrique ily <3)

Miles and Ekaterin fighting against awful rumors to preserve their reputation and protect Nikki

Gregor and Laisa's imperial marriage and its stressful preparations

And final special mention to Count Vormuir and his 118 daughters

That's like, 10 different plot threads at once, and wielded with such skill! Never a dull minute. I'm in such awe of LMMB 😵🤯

[katrin-katharsis]

OMG! What the fu--???

Oh, calm down. These are just my original TADC characters :D

1 picture:

René: "Hello! Have you come to visit me and ask questions? I will be happy to answer everything and show you a couple of illusions~"

Rene is a sweet and shy guy who is an illusionist. He spawned in TADC without eyes, but this absolutely does not prevent him from living. His body contains many red threads that are hypersensitive. When he touches objects with his hand, he can read recent digital memory from them. The same ability to "read" works for digital characters too.

2 picture:

AAAAAA THIS IS A PENTACLE

His height is 2.5 meters. His legs are like acrobatic stilts. Doesn't take anyone or anything seriously in TADC because he thinks the place is a strange dream. Perhaps experiencing constant derealization. Poorly understands other people's emotions, his own emotions and the boundaries of his body. Pint often trips, and also perceives all characters shorter than 1.9 meters as toys. He will gladly take you in his arms and caress you, but will soon throw you away like a boring toy, ew...

3 and 4 picture:

This is a Diptych. Just a Diptych.

Diptych: “Ahaha, did someone really decide to visit me?? Thank you:) But let’s meet tomorrow? Not here. I value my personal time. And please don't ask unnecessary questions."

Oh... This is my most intentionally evil OC. He appeared in TADC already somewhat abstracted. He hates himself and others terribly, but has no idea why. A terrible hypocrite. Using hypocrisy, he tries to fit into the digital circus society, but in reality he wants to harm everyone. Avoid him, please :"D

All this information is duplicated from my VK and communities from there.

[purplespacekitty]

Magnifying Glass: "Explorers"

Episode: "Explorers"

Series: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Season 3, Episode 22

Original Air Date: May 8, 1995

Teleplay Writer: René Echevarria

Screenwriter: Hilary J. Bader

Director: Cliff Bole

“Explorers” provides a window into which we, the audience, peer and see dimensions of Sisko’s character and his relationship with Jake that he is not often allowed to nurture. He’s the captain of a space station; he’s busy at all times of the day with the demands of his crew, of the governments of Bajor and Cardassia and with the imminent threat of invasion from the elusive yet brutal Dominion. In this episode, Sisko gets the time to spend doing something he is purely passionate about, exercising his creativity and the side of him that’s a big history nerd (”Why [build an ancient Bajoran lightship by hand]? Because it’ll be fun!”). We also get to see him spend some quality time with his son, Jake.

For a project of mine exploring Afrofuturism and Black masculinity, I chose this episode as one of three to study and analyze under Sisko’s importance as a character not just within the Star Trek franchise but in the broader world of television.

Benjamin Sisko’s role as a Black father is particularly pertinent to the plot of “Explorers”. Star Trek: Deep Space Nine first aired in 1993, not far removed from the hell that was the Reagan Administration. Reagan contributed grossly during his presidency to the denigration and humiliation of popular notions of the Black family and the framing of Black Americans as criminals. Mainstream films and television during and before the era, if they include Black characters at all, portray Black men as aggressive, violent and insolent, an image very much in line with Reagan’s manipulative message. Avery Brooks’ casting in Deep Space Nine as it’s Starfleet commander was an historic first for the Star Trek franchise and a step against the popular stereotypes of “welfare queens” and “absent Black fathers.” Ben Sisko - whose most defining characteristic aside from being the commander and later, captain of a space station is being a father to his son Jake - completely demolishes the “absent Black father” stereotype and all the others, firstly, by just existing. Sisko is very present in Jake’s life. Even with his duties keeping him at the station’s beck and call, he makes the time he spends with his son an unconditional priority and is quick to assure Jake of that fact. The two of them share common interests in cooking and baseball, threads that bind them to each other and to Jake’s grandfather, Joseph, who owns and runs the family restaurant back on Earth. Sisko is diligent in his care of Jake as he is for all that he loves. He is an actively loving, caring, protective and supportive father every step of the way. Sisko’s strong sense of justice means that Jake can’t really get away with his and Nog’s various shenanigans, but he is lenient and fair and always there to comfort Jake when anything goes wrong. There are multiple moments throughout the series in which they both learn from each other (this episode being one of them): a quality of their relationship that Sisko warmly welcomes. It is Jake’s care for and faith in his Ferengi friend that helps Nog earn Sisko’s respect. Their closeness allows them to have difficult conversations, to resolve arguments in a place of understanding and compassion, to be vulnerable with one another unconditionally. While initially disappointed when Jake tells him he’d rather be a writer than follow in his father’s footsteps by enrolling in Starfleet Academy, Sisko is ultimately supportive of his son’s interests because all he wants is for Jake to be safe and happy. Which is where this episode picks up from the last time the two of them discussed Jake’s future.

At this point in the series, Jake is ready to apply to college and has been hard at work writing pieces to submit to schools he’s interested in. Yet, even with his father’s enthusiastic blessing to pursue what brings him joy, Jake is hesitant to share his acceptance to Pennington back on Earth. Not because he thinks his father will be angry with him about going behind his back but because he doesn’t want his dad to be alone. By no means would they be losing each other to this new stage of Jake’s life. However, it would be the longest time they’ve spent truly apart from each other and they wouldn’t even be in the same region of space. They certainly won’t be able to go off on impromptu trips in ancient space ships on a whim or watch historical baseball games in the holosuites together as often as they do on DS9. And above all, what this episode most emphasizes is their father-son relationship, this relationship in which they are each other’s security in a turbulent, violent world that placed them at the threshold of a wormhole in the middle of a war-torn sector of the galaxy directly after losing Jake’s mother and Ben’s wife, Jennifer. Whether or not either of them are ready for it, Jake going off to Pennington means that that security in each other will change. Hence Jake’s ultimate decision to defer admission for a year to spend more time with his father and gather more experiences to write about.

This episode showcases our hero doing exactly what Starfleet is all about: exploring the cultures of other worlds and engaging with their ways of knowledge. At the same time, he is beginning an exploration of what life will be like with Jake off at school (and what life will be like with a beard) and he is also getting an insight into his son’s inner world. Both are journeys the two of them embark on together, even if one must be undertaken across many lightyears of space.

Sisko stands out as an intentionally Black character against the backdrop of the undeniably important if, comparatively, rather flat representation in Lt. Nyota Uhura and Lt. Geordi LaForge. Deep Space Nine’s writers and Avery Brooks made a conscious effort to ensure that Benjamin Sisko’s Blackness was not simply seasoning sprinkled sparsely on top of his character, but instead the essential binding factor that brought all the elements of the Captain’s personality together. Not only do we know he has his family’s Creole restaurant to thank for his cooking skills, but we get to see him be at home and with family more than once in this series. And aside from what is clearly directly tied to his Blackness, he has other interests and hobbies, like baseball, building, art and studying ancient technologies. He uses his experience as a Black man and father and his deep knowledge of Black Earth history to inform his actions multiple times throughout the series (i.e. “Far Beyond the Stars”, “Past Tense“, “Badda-Bing, Badda-Bang”, “The Abandoned”, “By Inferno’s Light”, “Waltz” and “The Maquis”, to name a few). In this episode, we even see him wearing a top inspired by West African dashiki patterns.

Commissioned on Deep Space Nine, his identity as a Black man, even in the supposedly utopian Federation, positions him as someone able to sympathize with the Bajorans in a way that none of his contemporaries Kirk, Picard, Archer, Pike, Lorca or Janeway ever could: both his people and theirs have histories of violent systemic oppression and persecution, as well as continuously developing histories of liberation. He understands their need to reclaim their land, knowledge and ways of life because that is what his ancestors began and saw through. And it is what he, Jake, Joseph and Kasidy, their descendants, carry on and embody in the 24th century. He builds the Bajoran lightship in order to prove that the ancient Bajorans were capable of such technological prowess as to get all the way to Cardassia without a warp drive despite dubiety from both his coworkers and the Cardassians themselves. So not only does he connect with the Bajorans’ struggles in a way that a white human captain cannot, but he actively participates in bolstering the repatriation of their culture and history. Little wonder why the Prophets chose him as their Emissary.

[ravenkings]

The 2024 rerun is already being viciously fought. Since 2020, the technological landscape has shifted. There are new social media platforms in the mix, such as Bluesky, Threads and Truth Social. Election integrity policies and enforcement priorities are in flux at some of the biggest platforms. What used to be Twitter is under new ownership and most of the team that focused on trust and safety was let go. Fake audio generated by artificial intelligence has already been deployed in a European election, and A.I.-powered chatbots are posting on social-media platforms. Overseas players continue to run influence operations to interfere in American politics; in recent weeks, OpenAI has confirmed that Russia, China and others have begun to use generative text tools to improve the quality and quantity of their efforts. Offline, trust in institutions, government, media and fellow citizens is at or near record lows and polarization continues to increase. Election officials are concerned about the safety of poll workers and election administrators — perhaps the most terrible illustration of the cost of lies on our politics. As we enter the final stretch of the 2024 campaign, it will not be other countries that are likely to have the greatest impact. Rather, it will once again be the domestic rumor mill. The networks spreading misleading notions remain stronger than ever, while the networks of researchers and observers who worked to counter them are being dismantled. Universities and institutions have struggled to understand and adapt to lies about their work, often remaining silent and allowing false claims to ossify. Lies about academic projects are now matters of established fact within bespoke partisan realities.

–Renée DiResta, "I Study Disinformation. This Election Will Be Grim," The New York Times, June 25, 2024.

[daisiesonafield-blog]

Storytime of a 'fan' partying with Louis and Oli in Los Cabos, Mexico on the night of Jan 18-19 2023

[I copied the google translation of his tweets bc the story is too long for screenshots. For the original in Spanish check his thread here.]

I was born here in Cabo, so I know very well, my friends are not from here, but a friend had told me that she had never been to a bar called "The Jungle" and I took her to meet her and say hello. to some friends who work there that I love them (René and Yen)

We got to jungle and everything was shido, there was a live band and as always very full and we had to be outside, for this we realized that Louis was there, total, I was with my friends having fun, dancing, singing and so on

Anyway, they were already closing and Louis and Oliver left, we stayed until jungle closed and we went to other bars that we like, especially one called "Dice" but it was very empty and only I went to the bathroom and we turned back, when we saw him again

My friend came to talk to Louis (it should be noted that we are not fans) and while we were entertaining the night I bought some beers to which I gave Oliver one, we were talking for about 10-15 minutes and obviously people asked him Photos

My friends talked with Louis and I with Oliver or we made jokes about how it is difficult for them to pronounce the "R" in Spanish and I explained to both of them that they should use the language more, that they needed more practice and they laughed, they understood the double meaning hahahaha

I didn't have much battery on my phone, I think 6% and since I'm not a fan of Louis, I was talking with a person that I "met in the peda" (met while drunk) something typical here in Los Cabos or nightlife in general (many will understand )

A boy came up to talk to Oliver while we were still joking with Lou, and he looked angry and I heard Oliver say "I don't want problems" so I approached with Lou and put myself in the middle of the boy and Oli in case he wanted to do something or something

(I forgot to mention, when we were joking he asked me something about my phone and I said "do you have WhatsApp?" To which he said yes, I take my phone, he added himself and told me to send him a message and I sent him a sticker, typical of meeting someone in the peda [while drunk])

Anyway, they told us to go to another place, I suppose they liked us, and we went to a bar that was nearby, that to enter there was a bouncer and my friends are friends of the bouncer and we went by, we sat at a table and because people realized

We asked for a bottle, they brought it to us at the table and I told Louis not to drink too much, also trying to make them full (not too drunk), we were singing, dancing and well, many came up to say hello, he would greet anyone who came near without problems, photos It's not understood)

Oliver took a lot of photos, with all of us, the truth was that we were having a great time, until someone asked for a one direction song and he asked Oliver please to tell the dj to change it, I saw Louis's face and he smiled, someone must have recorded that I guess

I told them I was going to the bathroom, I went, I came back and I had about 2% battery, it was already like 3 in the morning I think, I sat next to Louis and that's when I took my phone to take some selfies, I helped him turn on the flash and the photos came out I don't know how they got them

For this, Oliver saw when Louis took the photos with my phone and applied the law of ice to me, how do I explain that Louis asked me? 🤣🤣

My friends went out to smoke together with the two of them and I waited for them at the table, I don't smoke and I'll tell you, I was at my party and I'm not a fan, when they returned Louis saw a shirt that a very special person gave me and he liked hahahaha

We ran out of juice, we stayed a while longer dancing and it was time to leave, I paid for everything we had consumed and we went downstairs

This is when we stayed for about 5 minutes, since we were saying goodbye and that's when my taxi driver friend came up to me to tell me if it was Louis and I said yes, he asked if he could take a picture with him and I asked him I said ask Louis, for me ahead

Here we were saying goodbye (it should be noted that I have many friends and I received more photos of why or what he was doing with Louis hahahaha) and well I promised him that once we left with Louis I would post something, which I would rather than anyone else I knew for that night

It should be noted that I'm not a fan, I'm not telling them to offend by any means, I enjoyed my night with my friends and with them and that's not going to change the fact that I continue what I do, I think we spent 3 hours with them, such again if you count the time since we were in jungle

Lastly, I want to say that he is a super warm, fun, energetic person, he likes the riot as much as I do, if you are a fan of Louis I want to tell you that I enjoyed a great night for you and seriously if you approached me to tell me that You wanted a photo and I told you no, 1/2

It wasn't because I didn't want everyone to have his photo, but he just wanted to enjoy the night like anyone else, like you or I enjoyed it, I'm really sorry! It was a bit of luck that my friends and I had 🤘

And now yes, how do I explain that I ended up really drunk with Louis? I hope they enjoyed it as much as we 🤞🤞🤞

And that's all, I was looking at my messages and I'm not telling you so you can believe me or not, just my experience with them, the whatsapp is Oliver's, but my friends have Lou's, do you think if I send a message to Oli to pass me the photos, he'll tell me no?

Annexed when he called with my phone and I sent him a message, I still wonder if he would get mad if I ask for the photos 🤣🤣🤣

Good night babe! It was a pleasure to share my anecdote with you, please, don't hate me, I told you with all my heart 🙋‍♂️ have a nice night anyway!

[dalesramblingsblog]

Idly thinking about the brilliance of TNG's Lower Decks, so please do bear with me for a little while here... The show's seventh season often gets a not entirely unjustified rap as being a piece of filler while various parts of the writer's room were off shepherding the launch of Voyager and the transition to film with Generations, but here at last the season manages to attain the lofty heights of exactly what we expect from the "final season" of a show like this, in a fashion far more satisfying than simple continuity references or closure to running plot threads could ever be.

What I mean is that it demonstrates the inherent perks of the writer's room as a model of television production, something that has kind of been lost in the age of streaming and micro-writer's rooms. There isn't enough space for someone like, say, Brannon Braga with his weird exploration of body horror and/or temporal fuckery, or Ronald D. Moore with his cynical realpolitik.

Lower Decks very much hinges on René Echevarria's proven talents as one of the strongest writers in the TNG stable when it comes to intimate, character-driven pieces. The pitch came from outside the writer's room, but that hints at the real function of the room as a machine, whereby an abstract idea is subjected to a very particular finesse that helps bring out particular facets of a given script.

Ironically, Echevarria's own Star Trek career is another instructive proof-of-concept in this regard. His first script was The Offspring, but it was given an extensive do-over by Michael Piller and Melinda Snodgrass to better fit the aesthetics of the show. And here, his talents have developed far enough that he's effectively put on the other end of the process.

And it works. The script is beautifully constructed, with so many clever bits that invite the audience to become an active participant in the very procedure of watching Star Trek. The Alaska/Canada screw-up from Lavelle and Ben, the decision to cut away from the transport of Joret Dal and only show the hint of a Cardassian uniform, and of course the central set piece of the intercut poker games. (Here, for the visual triumphs, we should also commend director Gabrielle Beaumount.)

The episode derives its power from the audience's understanding that there were 165 episodes before this one, with their own rhythms and cadences. It disrupts it, but ultimately, in Worf's mutual connection with the lower decks personnel at the very end, collapses the narrative back into its familiar form. Of course, like all good narrative collapses, it comes at a cost, namely that of Ensign Sito.

It's brutal, and soul-crushing, to have spent so much time with this character only to have her swept away by the vicissitudes of fate, but it never feels cynical.

(In fact, one of the more bitterly memorable moments in watching the episode with my parents tonight - who had not seen the episode, or at least not recently - was my mother worriedly voicing her suspicions that Sito was not slated for a happy ending, and my father noting how bleak it would be for them to bring back this character to tell such a story. Crucially, he did not say this to disapprove, and I think it speaks volumes to how much Echevarria's script relies on the audience applying the televisual grammar of Star Trek to the episode.)

I'll admit I haven't seen any of the more modern Trek shows beyond Season 2 of Discovery - not out of conscious choice, mind you, I just have only so many hours of the day to watch Star Trek - but I can absolutely understand why this was the episode that got to pretty much single-handedly inspire the concept of an entire show, even if only in spirit.

For a show that can often feel rather formulaic - which isn't a problem, because the formula is a very, very good one that leads to some fantastic episodes - Lower Decks is proof that TNG wasn't *entirely* content to just coast by and rest on its laurels. It would have been justified to do so, but it still threw in the odd stylistic leap here and there.

And in so doing, it inadvertently prefigures more experimental modern television techniques - and contrasting against some of the more frustrating tendencies of the streaming era - all amidst a genuinely heartfelt and moving story. With all due respect to The Pegasus, Parallels and All Good Things, for me I think Lower Decks has now emerged as the champion of Season 7.

It's just that fantastic.

[histoireettralala]

About Marie d'Anjou

After losing four children between 1436 and 1439, Marie began to dress all in black. She was devoted to her household, her religious duties and her children. She was admired for her piety, leading a devotional life. Marie appears to have had no chancellor in her household as her seal was kept by one of her ladies-in-waiting, perhaps in an effort to keep her household out of internecine politics at court. She normally resided at Tours or Amboise and did not usually travel with the court.

Marie kept a large menagerie of pets including starlings, parrots, a wild goat, stags and does, in addition to her greyhounds. She also received a porpoise as a gift. Perhaps this is where her son Louis learned to love such exotic pets. Marie was an expert needlewoman. Her account books for the years 1454 and 1455 attest she embroidered every day with gold thread from Cyprus, Genoa and Venice with a cushion stuffed with bulrush and patterns on canvas from Cambrai.

Marie had a musical chapel with fifteen members. Two of these chaplains were composers of polyphonic music. Marie was the first queen to officially have an astrologer in her household according to the account books of 1450. His name was Arnoul de La Palu and he was regularly paid by the queen until Arnoul left to go into the king's service. He was quickly replaced by Jehan de Lormont.

Marie remained very close to her family and frequently kept in touch with her brother René, Duke of Lorraine. René visited her and she borrowed his boats to sail up the Vienne and Loire Rivers for visits. A list of New Year's gifts for 1455 for the most part included gifts to her brothers and sister-in-law Joan of Laval. Marie and the king made a pilgrimage together to Le Puy in 1424. In 1447, Marie made a pilgrimage on her own to Mont St. Michel.

Susan Abernethy - Marie of Anjou, Queen of France

[urds-lover]

˚୨୧˚⊹YAN RENÉ SIMM X S/O⊹˚୨୧˚

S/O has hated René from the first time she saw him, viewing him as the embodiment of her nightmares. But can she truly escape the vampire who has fallen for her, even with a heart that is dead? Their dynamic forces her to confront the complexities of love and hatred in a world where darkness reigns.

In the dim light of the abandoned warehouse, the air was thick with tension. S/O pushed René away, their voice icy and sharp. "Stop fucking touching me."

René smirked, unfazed by the hostility. "That's like asking me to cut my own fucking heart"

"Your heart is dead René." S/O shot back.

René took a step closer, stubbornness in his gaze."And it started beating when I met you for the first time "

"Spare me your bullshit" S/O retorted, anger bubbling beneath the surface. "I'm not some light to save you from the darkness"

"Why do you keep pushing me away?" René demanded, his tone low and insistent.

"You think I don't know how you feel? You wanted to be a part of this"

"I wanted nothing to do with you" S/O snapped, fist clenching at their sides "I can't stand you"

In a moment of reckless impulse, S/O grabbed René's spear, pointing it toward themselves, the cold metal gleams ominously in the moonlight, a symbol of their turmoil.

"Put it down!" René shouted, panic threading through his voice.

"Maybe this is the only way to escape you" S/O spat, venom lacing their words

"Slap me, punch me, kick me, kill me but don't fucking point my weapon at yourself"

René's voice was a mix of desperation and fury, his heart racing.

S/O hesitated "You don't get to decide what I do"

"I get to decide that you're not throwing your life away"

He stepped forward, "You're everything I thought I could never have"

Trembling, S/O lowered the weapon, their anger slowly melting into something more vulnerable "I hate you"

"Then stay and fight that hate" René urged

In that moment,surrounded by shadows, they both understood that their battle was far from over. Two souls locked in a struggle, torn between hatred and the undeniable pull of something deeper — a heartbeat of hope which refused to fade.

[jeannie-youre-a-tragedy]

believe it or not i am not actually a theatre kid, i have an unreasonable aversion to musicals and a personal dislike of some actorial pretentions of the process. i'm a subdued person. however it would be irresponsible to act like my entire life's trajectory was not set, in part, by my viewing of two particular plays (the Juan Torres translation of Red by John Logan and the María Renée Prudencio translation of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time as adapted by Simon Stephens from its original book) at the young ages of six and ten, respectively. i lost the thread looking up the people involved in these adaptations but the point is i love theatre even if i can't stand the idea of it sometimes.

[joannanora]

First review I’ve seen in Norwegian so I copied the text in Google translate 😄

You really have to love Céline Dion to put up with this trash.

IN THEATER MAY 12, 2023: I have absolutely nothing against romantic comedies, as long as they are genuinely fresh, sweet and funny.

"Love Again" is neither, but leans on tired clichés, chemistry-less leads and a silly story that will cause frequent rolling of the eyes.

In addition, it cultivates Céline Dion, the Canadian superstar who both plays herself and is one of the film's producers. If you are one of Dion's followers, and are deeply moved by her songs and lyrics, it can be thought that "Love Again" has its mission, because it is shaped by the same reading.

If, on the other hand, you find her music intolerable, this will feel like torture, because the film is like a Greatest Hits cavalcade of it. She even mentions the Eurovision Song Contest, which she won for Switzerland in 1988, which perhaps explains the film's strategic release date the day before this year's final?

"Love Again" has no ironic distance from either the genre or the music, and maintains such a low quality that it is difficult to see what this has to do with cinema. You really have to love Céline Dion to put up with this moth.

Sending text messages to deceased boyfriend

The premise of the story could have been used for something halfway interesting. The children's book author Mira (Priyanka Chopra Jonas) witnesses the death of her boyfriend John on the streets of New York - in a scene with a comically bad presentation of the shock.

Two years later, she starts texting him in an attempt to process her grief and loss. Little does she know that everything is being read by music journalist Rob (Sam Heughan), who has unknowingly taken over John's old number on his new work phone at The New York Chronicle newspaper.

He does not respond to these messages, but becomes obsessed with finding out who the mysterious sender really is. But he doesn't think to look up the number or call it from another phone. Not much for a journalist, that is.

That their paths nevertheless cross is hardly a revelation, but he remains silent about having received and read the messages, which according to the recipe creates the conditions for a small twist in the thread.

At the same time, he has been tasked with writing a large article about Céline Dion, who will embark on her first US tour in 10 years. And then, incredibly, it will turn out that she would much rather help the journalist with his private love life than promote herself, which seriously lowers the film's credibility into the deepest abyss.

Stiff-legged romance and predictable complications

The best thing I can say about "Love Again" is that it is filmed with beautiful people in an urban setting.

Indian Priyanka Chopra Jonas ("Quantico", "Baywatch", "Citadel") and Scottish Sam Heughan ("Outlander", "The Spy Who Dumped Me", "Bloodshot") seem like sympathetic actors.

Unfortunately, they have little chemistry and are unable to play their way out of the script's horribly stiff romance, which is as unconvincing as the thinnest and assembly line-produced weekly short story.

Director Jim Strouse ("The Incredible Jessica James") is also behind the script, or was it written by ChatGPT? It has so many generic "qualities" that one can be fooled.

He throws his characters into several predictable entanglements that could have been playfully prevented, so that the artificial moments of tension maintain a very low temperature.

The scene that gets the most chuckles (which means "a little") is a Tinder date where Priyanka Chopra Jonas as Mira meets the sleazy hottie Joel, because he is played by her real-life husband Nick Jonas.

Smeared with sugar and syrup

And then there's Céline Dion, then. You have to respect what she has achieved in her genre, but she is definitely not a good actress.

Even when she speaks seemingly candidly about missing her great love, the manager René Angélil, who died in 2016, it seems as flat and fake as her unnatural interest in the music journalist's private life.

At one point, she also gives Mira, who is a writer and illustrator of cute children's books, the task of designing her new tour posters. Hello? In what world would we have believed this? We never get to see the result, but are left with the impression that the film's raison d'etre is to promote Dion's generosity and warmth of heart.

Sure, I know this is supposed to be a romantic fantasy, which doesn't necessarily have to follow normal standards of quality, but gods know why Dion thought this would be career-boosting.

Devoted fans, excuse me, but "Love Again" is like the most excruciating, sugar and syrup-smeared 1980s power ballad imaginable, only it lasts 1 hour and 44 minutes.

One star might seem a bit harsh, but if the entire grading scale is ever to be used, it must be for films like this.

[landfilloftrash]

It was much like the human task of sewing. Stitching and mending a mangled piece of abused time like a threadbare blanket only to be dissatisfied and start it all anew.

The tear of reality is not quite a sound that can be heard or felt when you’re inside of it’s life giving touch, but to those cursed, blessed, or born into a existence outside of reality’s all encompassing reach, it echoed against your essence. Rippling and panic inducing, if you’re unprepared for it.

Just like fabric.

Figures then that most mortals call it something along those lines; clothes worn by life, the sash that binds, etc.-- or in human vernacular, as he’d been woefully using all too frequently as of late; the fabric of reality.

When it resounded through the Continuum, everyone had paused. New things always drew attention and curiosity, and the fact none of them had done this brought its own wave of questions. Who did that? Was there a Q that cut themselves off? A mortal species, or even just one of their kind, ascending without Their knowledge and had just tried to change something but caused a wound instead?

But no. It was a mortal. Just a mortal. And the curiosity wore off. Oh it’s just one of them.

He hadn’t exactly, well, hidden the burst of bright and loud anger that had ricocheted violently through his dismay before he suddenly was gone-- the rapid undercurrent of panic hastening his movements through the flurry of breaking time.

Because none of them checked which mortal it had been, and how prone he was to causing changes that would ripple across the entire tapestry and timelines.

And this one had been a huge one. A paradox that had crunched reality into a fine paste, unraveling it until it would be a ball of unusable string, locking him in with the rest of the mortals until it was fixed-- as the future that came after it could not be told, and everything that came before suggested nothing that would lead to this.

The very strings of fabric falling apart at their seams, melting and fracturing in equal hearing-splitting measure, and they dismissed it because it was a mortal.

Sure, it would all be rewritten. All start again. The cosmos would be born again and everything that ever was and ever will be will be stitched into a beautiful masterpiece that They would admire— for as long as it was new and different. Reality would fix itself as it always did when confronted with things that didn’t fit it’s intricate embroidery.

But it would do it in a way that removes the things causing it problems. A method the Continuum adopted from the quilt they could interact with, but never truly be apart of, he could only presume. ‘Get rid of it so it was never wanted.’

Aghck-! Damn. Watch your focus, you forsaken fool.

It was almost funny, the irony of showing this one mortal how the tapestry of life was made, connected through intricate threads that could not be severed without changing the whole picture, and yet he did so, uncaring of the consequences until he got there.

And got there he did.

Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

The initial tear had been by his renowned mortal Jean-Luc Picard, but every tear after that was by Q himself, trying to fix what he’d helped set in motion.

Ticking clocks mocked him.

Every time the clock’s timer ran out, Renée not talked back into doing the mission, or dying in a multitude of ways gone wrong, the Borg assimilated them all-- conquering the human race for the first time, (as they would have been without his warning over centuries later) the 21st century ICE detained Rios out of the mortals reach, Raffi and Seven arrested and detained, Soong gaining too much ground, Picard dying-- every time they failed, he tore out the lining in the tapestry and started again, cursing it all the while.

They always changed slightly. No two tries were exactly the same, so he’d always have to be ready for the minutiae to shift, for different events, but many things stayed firm. Multiple of these rehashes, he’d told Picard exactly what was happening-- no tricks, no playful words, not even a smidgen. But he refused to listen, claiming him to play tricks and this was just that. A trick.

A trick he says! Like the stars weren’t melting outside of this stitch he was making, sealing it every time they got closer to what they needed, and tore it out to start again when the wrong path started to manifest.

Three days. Over, and over, and over again.

Insanity at the very heart of its definition.

But his game was no longer broad strokes of a brush on a canvas— a trial for all of humanity— but the needlepoint accuracy for one being alone. Someone who’s lining touched so many, would need to continue to intertwine carefully with the loved ones of the future past, and would continue to influence the tapestry if he had any damn say in it; and, oh, look at that-! He did. 

He was almost 100% sure that had he been forced to be a mortal again, (not that he’d ever wish that— not even for—- becoming less than and suddenly so, so hindered was…) right this second, right the very nanosecond he was existing in, that he would have become a semi-decent embroiderer.

Just-- get it right, would you? Then we can all call it a day. I’m bleeding all over this from how much I’ve pricked myself on this darn thing.

Occasionally he did have to drop in so things would stay on course, but that was any good director’s job. Let them play this out. Let them play it out over and over until the final cut, until Jean-Luc learned he was worthy. Someone who was not his father, understanding be damned, and worthy— so so worthy— of love. Most of the time, he didn’t— well— have the time to play the dramatic ‘villain’ of their little escapade; his efforts and energy focused on the tear.  Drama was the heart of how he did things, but saying he was ‘a suture in the wound’ wasn’t... quite the exaggeration he could play it off as. His anger had revealed a shade too close to how invested he was. He was running out of threads to pull from his own pattern, his ‘life-blood’, his very own being to stitch into the gaping wound. In addition, all the repeating the exact same times over and over was almost like a motion sickness, a nausea gripping him as the same seconds ticked by— making him ill. A madness creeping into the very essence of his being and his fervor. He could feel it. His chaos no longer just playful— a very real and diseased part of him, now clawing it’s way into his actions and movements. At this point he should just throw in the towel, accept that reality would rewrite all the offending parties out, destroy the Borg, destroy-- but, what did humans call it? Sunk-cost fallacy? He had put too much effort into it. It was tiring. Too much time into it. They were running out of time. He was running out time.

One more time. I’ll be fine. We’ll get it right this time. Heed the stars, Jean-Luc, mon capitaine, this time, they will lead you home.