Can we talk about Finn for a minute? I keep reading that Finn gets described as “flat” or “boring” by some in the Star Wars fandom. Obviously everyone’s entitled to their opinion. But I’ll tell you, from my perspective? He’s one of the most unique, charismatic Star Wars characters out there.
1. Finn humanized stormtroopers. Made us experience panic and terror at the terrible choices they have to make. Stormtroopers, who were practically a joke in the other movies - white plastic statutes that existed just to get shot and clatter into a pile.
2. Finn’s flight with Poe Dameron is an explosion of emotion. That scene blew me away. Both of them had so much fun with it, and you can see Finn feel the real impact of having a name, rather than being a number.
3. Finn is profoundly empathetic and protective. Hell, I swear he cares about BB8 when he has to describe the plane crash, and Poe’s “death”, to the droid.
4. Finn shows tremendous range in this movie. Traumatized (stormtrooper battle), jocular (”you got a boyfriend?”), joyous (”that’s one hell of a pilot”), wistful (”Take care of yourself. Please.”), angry (ligthsaber battle), I could go on. I like Luke Skywalker as much as the next fan, but I think Finn shows more range in this one film than Luke did in all three.
5. Finn’s story arc is powerful, subversive, and inspiring. Going from a number to a name. Finding a family after being taken from his home as a child. Turning his back on the First Order and then realizing he needs to go further, and embrace the cause of the Resistance.
6. Finn’s relationship with Rey. I’m gonna get choked up about this, so I’ll just say John Boyega is an amazing actor, and I loved every scene he had with Daisy Ridley.
Anyway that’s my fangirling contribution. To me, Finn’s amazing.
This started with my child. She was the first to see them. I feel bad for her; she was the first one to experience the terror my wife and I would soon feel for ourselves. It began about a week ago, and I don’t know what to do.
Nelly Sachs (1891-1970) was a Swedish poet and playwright of
Jewish-German origins who won the 1966 Nobel Prize for Literature. She is best
known for voicing her experiences of persecution and terror as a German Jew
during World War II.
the onset of the war, she managed to flee with her mother on the last flight
from Germany to Sweden, where she settled and lived for the rest of her life.
She received the Nobel Prize for her writing which ‘represented the tragedy of
the Jewish people’. In 1961 she was the first winner of a literary prize
awarded biannually in Germany, the Nelly Sachs Prize, which bears her name.
*chucks angsty alyanette drabble into the void at 1:30 am and runs*
Marinette screams in her sleep.
It’s a jarring realization for Alya. Never would she have ever expected her friend - her sweet, kind, sheltered friend who grew up in a loving household and only experienced minimal abuse from a playground bully - to experience night terrors that make her yell and choke and writhe in her sheets. The pink covers twist around her arms like chains, tangling and tightening the more Marinette flails. Her voice is hoarse already, desperate and terrified as she begs with words that don’t fully form but sound suspiciously like “please” and “don’t” and names.
…the terror the ego feels in contemplating the dissolution of boundaries between self and world not only lies behind the suppression of altered states of consciousness but, more generally, explains the suppression of the feminine, the foreign and exotic, and transcendental experiences.
Mozart’s Requiem begins with you walking towards a huge pit. The pit is on the other side of a precipice, which you cannot see over until you are right at its edge. Your death is awaiting you in that pit. You don’t know what it looks like or sounds like or smells like. You don’t know whether it will be good or bad. You just walk towards it. Your will is a clarinet and your footsteps are attended by all the violins. The closer you get to the pit, the more you begin to have the sense that what awaits you there will be terrifying. Yet you experience this terror as a kind of blessing, a gift. Your long walk would have had no meaning were it not for this pit at the end of it.
Built into any commitment to a relationship is the requirement that we strive to understand how our partner came to be who he is. We want to understand exactly where his attitudes, beliefs, and reflexes came from so we can hold them supportively or help him work on upgrading them.
In any relationship, we are liable to experience the original distress and terror of our past. It can only be healed if we do not take that out on a partner. A relationship is meant to be the new holding environment in which old wounds can be examined and sutured—by both of us. This is why our work on ourselves is aided so much by a partner who understands us.
Last song I listened to: I just watched/listened to Jensen singing Brother at VegasCon again.
First Fandom: Supernatural is the first I am really involved with, but I guess I would have to say One Tree Hill.
Book that I’m currently reading: I’m about to start one by Karina Halle, I haven’t decided which one yet. If you have never read any of her books, I highly recommend you do! Her Experiment in Terror series might be my favorite books ever. (Don’t tell Harry Potter)
Worst thing I have ever eaten: Food is generally my friend, but one of the worst things I have ever ingested would have to be Castor Oil. I tried it while I was soo pregnant with my son and was ready to meet his cute little face. I would never recommend it, it was like drinking a tube of lipstick. I shudder just thinking about it.
Favorite Places: My couch, with a blanket and a good book…or Tumblr
i think there’s a lack of positive casual trans stuff. a lot of the time people are emotional -entirely justifiable- and idk it just riles up more anxiety.
so i think this might help some of the people new to the trans idea.
I got so worked up about the idea of coming out as trans to my family and friends that i ended up sobbing more than once, thanks to all the terror experience stories online.
With my upbringing it was totally irrational though (Seriously my family formerly found out i liked girls by asking if i was still dating someone and me casually responding with “Yeah but now i have another boyfriend and a girlfriend too” and it was just that. no big deal.
SO! i was wondering if anyone would be interested in a video about the general opinions around me and i’ll try and ask the general public as well.
oh yeah and send in any questions you want me to answer in said video!
Sorry I’m so late responding, but that sounds like a great idea!
Blh blah blah insert kinda obvious post here about how Vriska didn’t just hate (Vriska) because of the fear that she herself could end up like (Vriska), but because she 100% knew that (Vriska) is just like she used to be before she found out about Mindfang, and that she thought she’d killed that part of herself ages ago.
The big factor in (Vriska) becoming the person we know and love was that she witnessed Aranea’s betrayal, and saw how pointless and self-aggrandizing and cruel and unpleasant a fully realized Mindfang imitator could be, and started to drop her own Mindfang act that she’d been building up since she was a little kid, revealing a face of Vriska that hadn’t been fully seen for sweeps: a Vriska who could experience terror without completely repressing it and express weakness instead of assuming she’ll be destroyd and left behind if her facade wavers.
Vriska talks a good talk about how (Vriska) disgusts her because she’s an impossibly, ridiculously weak degradation of the original Vriska Brand
™, a decline of personal integrity, but yeah, no, it seems to me that Vriska’s real main issue with (Vriska) is that she’s a visceral reminder that without the Mindfang persona she’s been inhabiting for sweeps, she’s still the same scared little kid she always was.
“As siege-hardened as I was before my arrest, the truth was that I had no more courage in January than I had in June – contrary to popular belief, the experience of terror does not make you braver. Perhaps, though, it is easier to hide your fear when you’re afraid all the time.”
Unlike anything else I’ve read―within the prologue of this book I just knew that it was going to be a masterpiece. Never mind the fact that this guy is one of the co-writers for the HBO series Game of Thrones (yes, you did just read that) but I went into the book without knowledge of this little tidbit and it definitely explains A LOT.
I started off reading the first page when I slowly grew confused. Why does this book, which is supposedly about Russia in the twenty-first century, sound as though it takes place in modern day Los Angeles? And then it hit me not four pages later. David Benioff introduced us to his story by showing how it came to be, how he interviewed his grandparents and was told “David, you’re a writer. Make it up (the rest of their story).” And so Benioff goes on to writing in third person―an intriguing perspective that I usually don’t read―and boy, does he deliver. City of Thieves is a wintry tale of savage beauty. I cried, I laughed, I tore my hair out in distress and nearly threw the book across the room on multiple occasions. It was, simply put, fucking awesome.
Kolya and Lev have two choices. They can die as prisoners for breaking curfew, stealing from a German corpse, and becoming a deserter, or…they can venture out into the wild snow and war torn terrain in pursuit of a dozen eggs for a powerful soviet colonel to use in his daughter’s wedding cake. Brash and defiant as they seem, they’re not going to go down that easily.
Lev, a young boy without a family, is our narrator. He’s afraid of many things, but death is at the top of that list. His character development from the first to final pages of this novel astonished me to the point of tears. But nothing had me crying more than his partner in crime.
Kolya is the ever-jovial companion of Lev that just doesn’t know when to shut up. He’s flirtatious and ambitious, constantly making people melt before him with just a few teasing words. However, his endearing speech often fails him when it comes to negotiating with soldiers or generally anyone who isn’t a female or Lev. Kolya is slightly older of the two, and therefore he fits the brother bear role quite smoothly, but he’s also terrified of many things, and his fear is delicately hidden beneath his sarcastic guise. He has a deep passion for literature, which was ultimately what made him a “deserter” although he likes to wave that off, and since Lev’s father was a famous poet, one of the many who were the first to be picked off by the Germans, the two boys share a common ground when it comes to the great writings of Russia.
Ultimately, this is a story about growing up.
One of the bet things about this novel is the sadistic humor. The whole point of the story is to find a chicken that will provide a dozen eggs by the upcoming Thursday. It’s plenty obvious that that task would prove to be more challenging in 20th century Russia than perhaps tracking down the Yeti. So of course things like this scene would occur….
“Darling’s not for the pot,” said Kolya. “We need her for the eggs.”
“The eggs?” Timofei looked at us, at Darling, back to us. He seemed to think we were joking.
“Everyone’s quitting on Darling,” Kolya continued, “but I think she’s got it in her. Do you know anything about chickens? You think she can lay a dozen by Thursday?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
The surgeon seemed more and more irritated. Konya glared back at him, insulted by the man’s tone.
“Don’t you speak Russian? We’re waiting for the eggs!”
For a moment I thought the conversation would turn violent, which would have been a bad thing for the Red Army; we needed our surgeons and Kolya would have splattered the man with a single punch. But Timofei finally laughed, shaking his head, waiting for us to laugh with him.
“Laugh all you want,” I told him. “You’re not touching the chicken.”
“It’s not a chicken, you idiot. It’s a rooster.”
DAMN, they were so close!!
This book, for all it’s light hearted banter and humorous phrases, demands attention. For every sentence you read, there will be a thousand images rushing through your mind offering beautiful and horrific scenes that will appear almost like a memory, as though it’s a recollection of the past rather than the awful present. The ending of this book was as gripping as the prologue, if not more because, by then, I had fallen in love with the characters. Of course there were many deaths, but one death in particular truly made my heart ache. City of Thieves is ferocious and chilling, but the friendships that grow from such a black time are the ones to be most cherished and remembered. This book was amazing.
Disclaimer: You’ll need some tissues and something to scream into by the end.
This morning I woke up to a few texts from friends and family asking me if I was okay or if I was in downtown Orlando last night. I didn’t understand until I turned on the news and saw the 100+ victims being carried out of a popular nightclub in stretchers.
When the Paris attack happened, everyone was sad. The Orlando Eye turned blue, red, and white to show support for the victims. The France Pavilion in Disney’s Epcot did the same.
When the school shootings happened everyone hugged their children and shed a few tears for those who wouldn’t be able to hug theirs again.
But when it’s your town, your home, your friends, something changes.
When you have to call friends and family or look on Facebook to see who has “checked in as safe during the Orlando Shooting.”
I realized this morning that while I was dropping a friend off at their house at 2:30am that night, I was 5 minutes away from it all.
Here in Orlando it feels weirdly quiet. Drivers aren’t as rude. Cashiers aren’t making small talk. The roads are clear. It feels like everyone is moving in slow motion and like no one can wrap their head around this tragedy.
I know I can’t.
I might show up to my class on Monday and find someone missing. Or someone mourning.
We have to drive these streets and see the police, fbi, and swat trying to hide the gruesome inside of the club.
We see the blood banks with lines out the door.
We see the mother weeping over the last texts her son sent her and the sister asking if anyone has seen their loved one who they lost in the club.
Orlando has changed.
Being the new girl was by no means easy, trust me- I know.
But lucky you had an older sister who would experience the terror of moving to
a new school as well. You were a few months younger than her so you were in the
same grade. You walked through the hall way trying to navigate where your
locker was but found it rather difficult seeing as you came late and, first
period was ending- people rushed out of their most hated classes just to enter
another on a few minutes later.
As you looked down at the paper that had your schedule you
collided with another person, who was significantly taller than you resulting
in you falling down as people started crowding the hallway. “Oh my God, I’m so
sorry,” the boy said holding his hand out to you. “a-ah thank you,” you said
taking his hand, allowing him to pull you up to your feet. “Are you new here?”
the boy asked, you nodded. “Yeah, My names Y/N Argent,” you said looking the
boy up and down. He had chestnut hair, whiskey colored eyes, and his face was
covered in adorable moles and freckles.
“Welcome to Beacon Hills, Y/N, I’m Stiles Stilinski,” he
smiled. “Thank you stiles, you wouldn’t mind showing me to this general area
would you?” you questioned, showing him the small map you held in your small
hands. “Yeah sure, It looks like your next class is around there too, I take
you to both,” he smiled and guided you to a section of lockers before
approaching one and opening it. You scanned the area to see a locker missing a
lock. “Why did you change schools?” Stiles said, smile unknown to you from
behind his locker. “My family recently moved here, I’ve never been anywhere too
long- my dad travels for work,” you said shoving your backpack into your locker
after pulling the needed things from it. “Ah, cool,” he said slamming his locker.
As you followed him you both paid no mind to the bell as he
showed you which classes were where on your way to the class you both were
supposed to be in currently. “Down the hall is Mr. Finstocks class, he’s also
the lacrosse coach,” Stiles pointed towards a door further down the hall as he
stopped at another. “We’re here,” he said pulling the door open for you. “Ah if
it isn’t Miss Y/N Argent, the Principal said you and your sister would be
coming, did you find your way alright,” The teacher smiled at you. “Y-yeah, I
got lost trying to find my locker, so Stiles helped me get to it and showed me
around a little,” You said covering for him as he walked to his seat. “Well
welcome to beacon hills, why don’t you just take an empty seat?” she waved
gestured to the empty seats that scattered the room, you could’ve sat by your
sister but found yourself drawn to sit next to Stiles.