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Benedict Cumberbatch CBE, president/chancellor of LAMDA, gives a little masterclass on method acting at ‘The Cast and Director of The Current War Speak on Film’ (source)

“…I mean seriously, I lean on a good script, I lean on a good director, I lean on a colleague, I lean on collaboration. You know that if you get to the privileged position where you’re overworked, it’s really nice to use a costume fitting to go, oh that’s what that feels like, that’s what that looks like. I’ll play a bit with that.

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NEVER fluffed up her CV???? Bitch, there are fucking p a g e s of posts from right after the engagement news that proved that it was fluffed up harder than mainstream porn. Fuck right the fuck off with that magic eraser-bullshit of yours, like no one can go back in the archives and look at it for themselves.

Right?! Of course, that anon is probably one of the ones who thought that “farmer role play” article was real!

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Not fetchless? Why not leave her CV as is? Instead they fluffed it. Not a famewhore? Why smile wide at paps while her privately private fam's privacy is being invaded? Not for PR? Why'd a pap yell at BC & body block him to make sure he waited for her SEPARATE vehicle to arrive so they were photographed entering the restaurant together? Twu wuv? That's why BC didn't know he was engaged & forgot he was married? 3 Pilos & live together but stalkers & neighbors have never seen them as a fam in 5yrs?


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Originally posted by desingyouruniverse

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Letters Live: Benedict Cumberbatch, Olivia Colman, Sharon Horgan read letters on Dogs vs. Cats

“I cannot believe I am alone in feeling outraged and appalled by Nicholas Lezard’s assertion that dogs are inherently fascistic whereas cats are independently minded. Speaking as someone who has nearly always shared his life with both, it is unmistakable that dogs are community-minded, socialist, eager to make the world a better place. Now look at cats: smug, entitled and clearly interested only in themselves and their I’m-all-right-Jackery.

There will always be some dogs who are corrupted, misled and – like Stalin – born to the left but end up on the fascistic right. Just as there must be rare examples of cats who have abandoned their life of comfort – Che Guevara comes to mind – and given their lives to the betterment of others (though I am yet to meet one). Which brings us to the one undeniable truth shared by anyone, of any political persuasion, who has ever canvassed door-to-door: dogs vote Labour, cats vote Conservative.
Jonathan Myerson
London”

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You keep getting anons who insist there are 3 CumberChildren. Well, *I* insist on proof. Receipts. Something besides imdb that mentions a third child has been born. And no "But privacy!" either. If they bring up #3, so can everybody else.

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  • Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x reader
  • Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol & a club, bad attempt at hitting on someone, slight violence & threat, uncomfortable Sherlock
  • Summary: reader brings Sherlock along to a party hosted by her boss at his nightclub and they dance the night away. 
  • All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound
  • Word Count: 1,243
  • A/N: Wahoo I’m back again. This fic was inspired by a formal I went to last night, though no alcohol was involved and I took certain liberties. As of now, I’m thinking of adding a steamy part two to this fic, or possibly making a whole new fic I’m considering calling “Little Black Dress.” I hope you all enjoy and thank you for all the support! *gif not mine!*
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“So the murderer could have been right there in the house with…her,” Sherlocks calculating eyes peered away from the wall cluttered with odd and end photographs of his suspects. She smirked as he noticed her presence in the room, struggling to pry his eyes away. The watery depths of his eyes filled with confusion, his brain struggling to remember what he had forgotten this time. 

“Did I-?” he mumbled, somewhat ashamed.

“No, of course not!” she smiled, knowing she must have looked like a fool, barging in on him during what she presumed another important case. “There is an impromptu dance planned at work this evening and I thought, well, would you be my date?” she fought down the blush threatening to burst through on her pale face. 

His gaze softened, glancing at the short black dress which he noticed clung to all the right places, accenting her curves perfectly. She also became well aware of her hair as he smiled softly; he knew she rarely ever let it down. It was unusual for her, but he was glad she had made the effort. Even her dark luscious lipstick made his thoughts wander.

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