Fourth Wing Reread~ Declarations
The parallels of them declaring themselves to each other are magnificent.
~Violet, Fourth Wing
~Xaden, Iron Flame
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The end of Mockingjay is my nemesis because it does everything that I would do as a writer, makes all the exact same choices that I would make, but in a wildly different tone. There’s a layer of pure coldness and apathy that cuts the reader off from entering into the moment and feeling it for themselves. And I know the point is that Katniss’s brokenness is framing the narration but to me all that’s achieved by that is that we aren’t allowed to feel the grace of the ending, which in my own prideful opinion, makes the whole thing kind of pointless.
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A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske
Robin thought about the string that Edwin used in his spells: how a particular cradle might have five or six or eight lines of the pattern joining one hand to another. Binding them close. Robin and Edwin had already shared a handful of secrets, and now they shared another, and this awareness of their common nature—in a way that had nothing whatsoever to do with magic—hung delicate and unspoken between them as they left the room.
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i think that everyone currently going through aemond targaryen withdrawal should go read the wolf and the woodsman by ava reid because the love interest is a one-eyed religious second son prince with daddy issues AND it’s just an overall amazing fantasy novel inspired by jewish and hungarian history with a fantastic exploration of nationalism, nation-building, religion, and jewish identity and culture.
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The Beatrice Letters by Lemony Snicket
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Robert Browning, upon finding a review (twenty-eight years after the event) where the critic thanked God that Elizabeth Barrett Browning had died and would not inflict any more verse upon the world, inflicted some verse upon the critic.
To Edward Fitzgerald
I chanced upon a new book yesterday;
I opened it, and, where my finger lay
'Twixt page and uncut page, these words I read -
Some six or seven at most - and learned thereby
That you, Fitzgerald, whom by ear and eye
She never knew, "thanked God my wife was dead."
Aye, dead! and were yourself alive, good Fitz,
How to return you thanks would task my wits.
Kicking you seems the common lot of curs -
While more appropriate greeting lends you grace,
Surely to spit there glorifies your face -
Spitting from lips once sanctified by hers.
Anyway, moral of the story is, don’t pick a fight with a poet unless you want to be savagely flayed. (And get you a husband as devoted as Browning).
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i would like to think of neilman less. desperately. but unfortunately he is. who he is. and searches his own name a lot. and i have been moved by some of his writing.
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oh sometimes i'm overcome with the realization of just how sentimental a bitch i am
like i really am straight up just playing make-believe with these characters like they're digital barbies
okay so in Iona's inventory, i've had this necklace
since very early in act 1.
it was in Aradin's chest at the Grove, and it was the first thing "we" managed to get with the "I distract them with conversation/busking and you steal everything that isn't nailed down" act/trick I had thought up for her and Astarion. I thought it'd be kinda cute for him to, at the end of this test run, present it with a ~theatrical flourish~ once just out of earshot of its original owner, and for her to ~graciously allow~ him to drape it around her neck, as a hamfisted and silly act of mock-courtship they both know is false. (it was kind of a... "we both know what this is all about and where it's headed, but wouldn't it be fun to play make-believe and pretend it's something entirely different" type of thing.)
I thought it'd be cute, if a touch bittersweet for her to keep it, just slotted away in her little "sentimental items" pouch, like.... next to the dog toy, her old wedding band, and the other useless junk she couldn't bring herself to throw away or sell.
and then today, i found this as I was selling stuff in the Glittering Gala.
it's the same design. and i like to describe Iona's eyes as "amber" when I write about them (they're kind of a reddish/yellowish, pretty medium brown). and she looks much better in golds and reds than she does in blues and silvers.
so. um.
guess who got this bloody thing "sneaked" into her inventory at the long rest.
if you think i won't 1.) exit a trading screen abruptly, 2.) switch controlled characters, 4.) buy a silly and utterly useless junk item AS that character (thought about just picking her pocket but.... we have 35k gold. why would i.), and 4.) keep it in that character's inventory until it "seems like" the PC isn't "paying attention", and then 5.) drop it into their inventory "unnoticed", all for LITERALLY NO GOOD REASON other than just to act out a silly little gesture and support the little fanfic in my head, well.
you'd be very wrong.
((and i was grinning and giggling downright embarrassingly the whole time too))
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shoutout to the time i was opening my mouth to describe a book as relatively low-stakes and fun, JUST in time for my therapist to call it “dark” and “gripping”. oh. well. okay.
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I want you to come home — you've never had a home — I want you to come home to me.
Iris Murdoch, from The Book and the Brotherhood
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Who knew being honest and direct could be so sexy? Gemma (right) spares no time in taking a little white lie about them dating told by book nerd Tansy (left) and turning it into a deal that could benefit them both. Confidence is hot!
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Before my parents left for three years, leaving me alone in France when I had just turned eighteen, I felt like they didn't listen to me, didn't really understand when I told them I was in pain (which, also, if the pain was there before they left, that is chronic pain indeed).
Tonight my mom cleaned my kitchen for me, because at lunch I told her I wanted to do it, needed to do it, but physically couldn't, as my hands, back, legs, and everything, were acting up.
She just started doing it without saying a word, just asking if I had more dishsoap.
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DID EVERYONE KNOW
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my mother texted me while i was with a friend and i called her on purpose while my friend was nearby so he could offer emotional support and she had the cheek to get rude and dictate that she would call me later because i was busy even tho I said i was free to talk then jesus fucking christ who does she think she is
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recently came across The Beatrice Letters by Lemony Snicket which screams love in every possible way. So I had to make my own version of it. Dramatically speaking: An homage if I may.
The Beatrice Letters: Unsent
I will love you if this is the last time I get to tell you, and I will love you if this is the only time I get to tell you that I do. I will love you as an empress loves her emperor, and as the emperor loves his subjects, and as his subjects love their empire. I love you as a moth loves flame and as flame loves metal. I love you as a warrior loves her sword and as the sword loves to draw blood. I will wait for you as Olaf waits for summer and as a pied cuckoo waits for rain. I will love you if our forever starts today, I will love you if our forever ends today, and I will love you if we never even stood a chance.
I love you as the sun loves the sea and as the sea loves the salt. I will love you as long as it takes to separate the salt from the sea and the salt from my tears. I love you as Shakespeare loves tragedy, and as tragedy follows every hero, and as the hero slowly starts to fall in love with the villain. I will learn to say I love you in every existing language, and then I will learn to speak your love language. I will love you as the poets love the moon and as the moon loves to chase a car. I will love you when you think the world of someone else, I will love you as that world falls apart, and I will love you as my world falls apart. I will love you when my world is full of light, and I will love you from the shadows of my mind.
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sometimes I see notes on the random posts abt the structure of the romance genre I make & I’m like. They Don’t Know I’m Talking About Pamela Regis’ Eight Elements Of Romance Novels
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