Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

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February 15, 2017

1,959 notes

imsfire2:
“ kafrenes:
“how long do you think it’s been since cassian last held someone, or was held? few months? years? over a decade maybe? this man’s family was killed when he was six and his only friend was a droid, i think it’s pretty safe to say...

kafrenes:
how long do you think it’s been since cassian last held someone, or was held? few months? years? over a decade maybe? this man’s family was killed when he was six and his only friend was a droid, i think it’s pretty safe to say it’s been awhile. there is so much bullshit here: like the way his eyes close slowly, savoring the feel of her, the weight and warmth. he breathes out, grips her tighter. the way she pulls him closer in response, the way they just ease together, like holding this person is the most natural thing they’ve ever done. GOD!!! what the fuck!!!!!!! this is bullshit. fuck diego luna and fuck lucasfilm
Okay, I have a lot of emotions about this.
I know all the rebelcaptain shippers like me love to tell our stories of Jyn and Cassian falling in love, making out in corners, etc, and in particular we love all our AUs where they survive Scarif and have a relationship, and make their way towards some kind of happiness together - & clearly we are a bunch of the most hopeless soppy ha’porths imaginable - but in allowing ourselves to wallow in all that we are half-forgetting how immensely subtle the canonical relationship is, how well scripted and how brilliantly acted.
Don’t get me wrong, I want as much as anyone to believe this could/should/would have been a love to sway the sun and the other stars! And I’m one of those who went into the film the first time really hoping that the script was not going to push another slightly-forced “we-only-just-met-but” romance on me. The love story crept up on me unawares, and tore my heart out; because incredibly, and largely by resolutely focussing on not telling it as a love story, they made it a completely believeable one.
Yet what we actually get to see is almost entirely platonic; two people who discover a kindredness of spirit, and who help one another to recover a sense of belonging; who become comrades, and are edging towards being friends, and who may be just beginning to wonder if they could be more; and then in the end they don’t have time. And yet, they manage to say everything that has gone unsaid, including all the might-have-beens, without a single word, in those two last scenes; the elevator, just looking at one another without speaking, and finaly on the beach by this simple act of holding one another in the face of death, being there for one another right through to the very last - which is an ultimate act of love.
Words, confessions of love, kisses, would snarl up the clear and unabashed emotion of this moment and burden it with too much thought, too much consciousness. It all stays interior, instead, and is shown only through their body language; through the things the OP here remarks on, they way they hold one another, so close and yet so gently, they way they fit together so tightly and find so much comfort in that closeness. All their awareness of the future they’ve laid down in order to complete their mission, all their awareness that they have come to like one another, that they would have been glad of the time to know one another better; their awareness that their chances have finally run out, but they won, is all carried just in the way they embrace. It’s that simplicity, that acceptance of the fact everything else must be left unsaid, as these two really quite ordinary, and very damaged, people - who in the end have found it in themselves to be consumately brave and honourable - accept their fate and roll with it, and pack all the years of comradeship, friendship, love, hope, that they could have known, into giving one another the last blessing of not dying alone.
And because we have two very good actors here, they don’t need any lines to do it. They just show it.
The result is almost a Sci-Fi equivalent to Hamlet’s “If it be now, ’tis not to come. If it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all… Let be.”
And - the rest is silence.

(Source: bossard, via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

Tags: THAT LAST BIT NO FUCK YOU BUT ALSO I LOVE THIS AND AGREE WITH MY WHOLE SOUL SO UNFUCK YOU OR WHATEVER rogue one star wars Cassian andor jyn erso otp: welcome home

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July 15, 2016

57,841 notes

To all the Tumblr users who tend to use tags very liberally:

thejadedkiwano:

Let’s play a game.
Type the following words into your tags box, then post the first automatic tag that comes up.
you, also, what, when, why, how, look, because, never

(via muteelfmoonmoon)

Tags: fuck you i also use flinching to describe things like supernatural i see what you did there I BURST INTO HYSTERICAL INCONSOLABLE TEARS DURING THE LAST SCENE WHEN MY ROOMMATE SHOWED IT TO ME this is actually why i stopped watching how did i not know this look if weird abstract shit that is the written equivalent of blue plywood is your thing because it's obscure as balls and you're not going to miss much else (I WILL NEVER BE DONE BEATING PETER JACKSON WITH THE 'FUCK YOU' STICK ON BEHALF OF FARAMIR) tag meme

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April 29, 2016

3,758 notes

ink-splotch:

ifallelseperished:
_{Remember old Fleur Delacour? She’s got a job at Gringotts to eemprove ‘er Eeenglish. And Bill’s been giving her a lot of private lessons.}
But my Bill and Fleur feels, my Bill and Fleur feels. The eldest boy, the best boy, with his accolades and his earring and his dashing escapades, breaking curses in pyramids, the boy who comes home when he’s called. The girl so beautiful she is inhuman with it, vain and selfish until you see quite how selfless she is.
They are both of them monsters: the werewolf, scarred fighting his parents’ war returned, and the veela, struck beautiful by her grandmother’s life, something ghastly hidden in her bones. They both carry an otherness they did not ask for. They are both judged for their perfection (head boy and champion of Beauxbatons, brave and beautiful, honorable and fair), judged for the way they seek after it (his long hair and his earring, her prettiness, her vanity), and judged for its lack. He is scarred and she loves too hard, she is not a gentle soul.
During the second task, they took each of the competitors’ most precious people: Harry’s best friend, Cedric and Krum’s sweethearts, and Fleur’s little sister. I like to think she worries about it, how much her own life orbits around this little life almost a decade smaller than her. I like to think she worries about it, worries about Gabrielle but also worries about how much she worries, worries about what people will think. I like to think that at fifteen, when a tiny Gabrielle climbed into Fleur’s lap, Fleur decided she didn’t care. She gathered her sister close and worried all she wanted about everything except what other people thought.
I like to think she worries about Bill, when she first starts feeling her orbit shift in his favor. Gabrielle will always be tucked under her wing, but Bill’s hand is in hers, and for the first time in a life of flights and flitting and others’ eyes on the hem of her robe, that hand feels like it should be there. And Fleur worries, because she can feel her orbit shifting, toward this handsome ex-Head Boy with Egyptian sand still between his toes.
I like to think she worries about it, about him, up until the first time she sees Bill with his brothers, amid a gaggle of Weasleys, until she sees him with his one and only baby sister.
Ginny is small and wiry, sharp as a sharpened rosebush branch. Fleur knows something about beautiful, dangerous things. Ginny hates her at first, and Fleur smiles, flits by, moves on. She decided a long time ago not to care about what other people thought. The important thing here isn’t the way Ginny rolls her eyes at Fleur, or the way Ginny will one day learn that they both have hard darknesses under their pretty skins; Fleur likes the way that Bill teases his little sister, falls into the rhythm of his family, wrapped up in a warm possession of these people he loves. She remembers that they are both here because they have wrapped themselves up in a war, to save lives, to save others, to save their own. She stops worrying about Bill. He will understand about Gabrielle.
The beauty and the beast; the boy and the land-bound siren; the least interesting quality in either of them is the shape of their skin. She is vain, selfish, petty, pretty, and she falls whole-heartedly into a war that isn’t hers.
Fleur is horrified when Molly thinks she will leave Bill for his scars, she is horrified that anyone would think her love skin deep, because Fleur Delacour, above all, knows what it is to be skin deep. They have been casting her as that all her life, this perfect beautiful child, the talented student, the lovely young lady. People swoon around her in the hallways when they aren’t rolling their eyes at her vanity.
This was her skin, not her vanity. This was her birthright, as much as Harry’s green eyes or Bill’s red hair and the war on his heels, This was so far from her self.
These were her selves: Fleur weeping furiously on the shores of the lake, and kissing Harry and Ron when they bring Gabrielle back to the air; Fleur at Shell Cottage, gracious, exhausted, in love in a war zone; Fleur shouting a grieving Molly Weasley down in a Hogwarts tower, declaring how foolish it would be to stop loving a man based on his scars. She is beautiful enough for both of them, after all. They are brave enough for each other. They have both always had the monster in their bones, perfection hounding their heels, little siblings who are all the reason they need to fight to make the world a brighter place.
Few look past Bill’s scars, past Fleur’s luminous beauty, but they look at each other, hold hands, cling tight. He sees her sharp, sharp smile while he grins with his wolf’s teeth, bleeds from his big heart. Between them, they make the world a brighter place, a better one, and don’t care who notices, who sees, who understands. They do, and that’s enough.

WELL OKAY THEN

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

Tags: wow just *clenches fist* went for it didn't you i'm barely awake fuck you just fuck me up harry potter

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April 24, 2016

9,288 notes

thefederalistfreestyle:

there’s a grief that can’t be spoken

okay but what if you diDN’T DO THAT???

(Source: twitter.com, via punkrockpatroclus)

Tags: hamilton WE DO NOT INTRODUCE THAT SONG TO ALREADY PAINFUL SITUATIONS FUCK YOU

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April 23, 2016

421,205 notes

stele3:

lynati:
lectorel:
hazel-the-space-ace:
sarsparillo:
thatwriterchickyouknow:
jezunya:
singoallala:
fieldbears:
hellisbucky:
fieldbears:
queercakes:
yeinns:
webelieveinyoukris:
Being gay is natural? Okay.
You have three islands. Divide them into groups of one. The straight island, the gay island, and the lesbian island. The straight island is going to reproduce and keep going strong for millions of generations to come. The gay and lesbian islands will both wipe out in not even one century. This isn’t just about religion or morals, it’s just simple common sense. Being gay is unnatural, and not just because God said so, but because you yourself wouldn’t even be born without a REAL natural man and woman. And no, there is no such thing as a lesbian bone marrow “thing” to have children. That’s a biased fact that came from a lesbian scientist who has false opinions. If it’s not a real penis or vagina, then it’s fucking false and you’re just opinionated by dumb facts. I’m done here. Read over what I said and if you still think that being gay is normal and natural, then I hope you achieve some common sense one day. Bye
Where is this gay island located.. asking for a friend
I just have SO MANY questions. Why were we all separated onto different islands? Did the government sanction this? If so, why? Why didn’t we revolt against this tyrannical government? Where are these islands? How were they chosen? Are the continents of the world abandoned? What kind of resources are on each island? Are they the same or different? Does each island have a right to form its own government or does the government that segregated us still rule? If so, what island do they rule from and how do they communicate with the other two islands? If they can communicate with the other two islands, can all three islands communicate with each other? If the straight people keep reproducing, won’t their island become overpopulated and their resources depleted? Islands only have so much space right? Do straight people stop having gay kids? Isn’t it a fact that, to date, straight people are the largest manufacturers of gay kids? If a gay kid is born on straight island, do they get sent to their appropriate island? Wouldn’t that aid in the re-population of gay and lesbian island? What about people who are attracted to more than one gender? Are they just lost at sea, floating aimlessly? Is the ocean full of listless pansexuals, floating nowhere? Or are they trapped in some sort of purgatory because they don’t fit on any one island? Are there trees on lesbian island? Is it conceivable that if there were, a large group of lesbians could build a boat? Have you ever seen lesbians around timber? If they built a boat, could they travel to gay island? How far apart are the islands? If they could travel to gay island, would they be able to collect semen, return to lesbian island, and repopulate the island? Would they be able to send some of those children to gay island? Do trans people exist in this world? If so, wouldn’t they be able to aid in repopulation? If the lesbians decided to declare war on the heterosexuals, would they be able to reach their island? On the way to heterosexual island, could the lesbians pick up the gays and scoop the floating bisexuals from the sea? If so, would they all be able to go and attack heterosexual island together, wiping out its people’s, stealing its children and taking all its resources? Does this fantasy world get you off at night? Please write back soon!
Speaking up from the pansexual archipelago: I too have these questions
Checking in from bisexual bay: The boats are nearly complete and are equipped with a special invisibility function. We attack at dawn
Fuck the questions, lemme on that boat, I’m coming with you
*random ace just floating away into the sky like a balloon*
I am so here for an asexual sky nation. We live in floating cities and master the wind currents. Newly minted ace youths are sent up to us in baskets suspended under hot air balloons. We breed giant birds to bear us through the skies, or else build ourselves wings and gliders to fly in their midst. The only land we know are the tallest mountain peaks and the world is a bright blue gem spreading out beneath us.
(And we will of course be providing air support for the impending attack on Straight Island)
OP’s nasty-ass post got turned into a goddamn sci-fi dystopian adventure and I’m so here for it.
oh my god Bisexual Buccaneers from Both-Ways Bay is both a porn tile and my new life goals
i’m an asexual homoromantic does this make me our young heroine torn between worlds
You spend part of your time on lesbian island, learning the stories, and traditions, and part of your time in the vast floating asexual cities, training with your eagle so that you can one day become one of the chosen few: the messengers, who carry letters and passengers between islands, jumping the heterosexual blockades. When you enter this select group, you’re assigned the job of collecting reports from spies pretending to heterosexual on straight island, flying in at the dead of night, risking discovery to collect vital intelligence. You fall in love with a pansexual girl who’s chosen to hide her orientation so she can aid the Resistance. At the climax of the novel, you swoop down from above on your giant eagle to rescue your lady love from a frenzied mob. As straight island burns in the background, you share a chaste kiss and cuddle while discussing the possibility of a mountain-top pansexual outpost.
IT CAME BACK AROUND AND IT GOT BETTER!
THE EAGLES ARE COMING THE EAGLES ARE COMING
AND THEY’RE ACE

All right so who’s writing the best selling novel?

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

Tags: I LOVE EVERYONE IN THIS BAR except you op fuck you I WANT THIS BOOK MAKE IT HAPPEN AND A TV SERIES

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April 18, 2016

11 notes

It’s only Monday and I’ve reached the point of sleep deprivation where I’m making up bad Organic Chemistry pickup lines. Highlights include:

Damn, girl/boy/gender-neutral/…comrade(?), I hope you’re a peroxide, because I’m having trouble getting oxygen.
Are you a cyanide compound? Because those lips look toxic.
Are you a carbene? Because this feels explosive.
I’ll conjugate my double bonds with yours, all night long.

And my personal favorite….

Are you an aromatic ring system? Because I can tell from here that you’re chemical perfection.

Tags: i'm fucking killing myself here fuck you i'm hilarious organic chemistry adventures in college and kind of adventures in adhd bad pickup lines honestly this is my sense of humor in a nutshell there's also the obvious two 'i think you and i have chemistry' and 'i want to do you like my organic chemistry homework: long hard and over a desk' i came up with a good one about the grignard reagent too yep i'm dying

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March 31, 2016

9,375 notes

wildehack:

mamonna:
the return of the Prodigal son
#[whispers] nO #star wars #oh no what if one day he just—shows up #no fanfare no grand surrender no chains or lightsaber duels; he’s just…….there #her son wearing a strange man’s face and going to his knees and leia can’t breathe can’t think #it’s third shift and the halls are mostly empty; she was just going to get her datapad from the command center she hadn’t—#“how did you….” (she means: get away from snoke; she means slip onto a rebel base without tripping the alarms #she means: find me)#and he opens his mouth to answer (I killed my father; the force; I have always been able to find you)#but what comes out instead is “mama”; said in a small and heartbroken voice that neither of them have heard for over a decade #and leia is moved by an instinct she thought dried up; withered long ago and broken away from lack of use #but she opens her arms #and gathers her son up the way she once did; stroking his hair as though he is still a boy frightened of thunder #(he smells different the angles are all wrong the proportions are off but she knows him; her body knows him #she carried him inside her there is nothing he can become she would not know as she knows her own skin)#“oh ben” she says very softly so softly she’s not sure he heard but #she feels his shoulders hitch and then the alarms are sounding #………..when the resistance soldiers arrive kylo ren is on his knees before general organa; his hands tucked behind his head #his lightsaber held loosely in the general’s hand #then there are chains and that surrender; interrogations and talk of a trial #but for that moment in the hall it was very simple #leia’s son had come home (notbecauseofvictories)

This is okay. I’m fine.

Wow, Sauron, maybe slow your roll there just a little.

Tags: UNCALLED FOR FUCK YOU star wars tfa I DON'T EVEN LIKE THIS LITERAL TRASH HUMAN BEING HE IS A MASS MURDERER AND A WAR CRIMINAL AND A PATRICIDE UNLESS THERE IS SOME REAL SERIOUS BRAINWASHING EVIDENCE BROUGHT FORWARD I DON'T WANT A REDEMPTION ARC that being said if they had to do a redemption arc there would be worse ways to do it than this it's fine i just have something in my eye

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March 27, 2016

459 notes

fuckyeahisawthat:

I want to know how long it took Furiosa to figure out that her home was just on the other side of the mountains from the Citadel, less than twenty-four hours’ drive away. It seems clear in this scene that she’s bullshitting confidence a little. She doesn’t know precisely where it is–if she did, she’d recognize that the dead bog is exactly where the Green Place should be. But she knows which direction to drive, and that it’s not terribly far to go. And in fact she does lead them right to the place where her home used to be.
Imagine young Furiosa in the back of the slavers’ truck, unable to see where they’re going or just too scared and in shock to keep good track of time and direction, being driven for days and days and days around the mountains, or maybe on a circuitous route through different trading posts/raiding opportunities. She gets to the Citadel and assumes she must be thousands of kilometers from home; she was in that truck for so many days and nothing looks familiar here.
Maybe it clicks on a scouting run, that the mountains she can see are her mountains, the same ones that shelter the Green Place from the worst of the storms and give birth to the trickle of underground water that feeds their oasis. She’s never seen them from this side, but now that she really looks, she’s certain they are the same. Which means that home is right there, RIGHT FRIGGIN THERE, if only she can figure out how to get to the other side.
Now imagine Furiosa driving east through the night and into the next day, the Fool and the girls and the surprisingly useful War Boy sleeping through the midday heat, thinking it must be here, it must be. Maybe beyond the next dune, or the next…. Seeing the strange metal tower that her Mothers told her used to carry electricity and feeling a wave of relief, because she definitely knows that; she must have just confused the eastern border of their territory with the western one; it’s been a long time after all. The Green Place must be just beyond those dunes, just a little further away than she remembered, waiting for them…

Tags: mad max fury road furiosa FUCK YOU

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March 15, 2016

1,258 notes

halfdesiqueen:

sometimes i think a lot about what would have happened if sirius had actually been exonerated at the end of book 3 and harry had gone to live with him and also snape kept his mouth shut and remus kept his job
in the time between sirius being cleared and the end of the school year, sirius starts an intensive course of physical and mental therapy
sirius picking harry up from king’s cross
i know it’s not canon that sirius was an auror after graduating hogwarts but i really like to think he was
anyway once he passes a psych eval he’s reinstated as an auror
kingsley is his partner; they trained together back in the day
it takes kingsley a while but he gets over “sirius black escaped convict and former death eater” and they grow to have a really strong partnership
the rest of the aurors follow suit
the head of the auror office (is it scrimgeour at this point? probably) forming a task force to find pettigrew
sirius wanting to be assigned to that task force but being denied because it’s such a huge conflict of interest
sirius picking up harry from king’s cross when school gets out
both of them really nervous but smiling really big
sirius got a new flat in london in the same neighborhood as his bachelor pad but this one with enough room for both him and harry (and a room that is ostensibly a guest room but really remus uses it all the time that summer)
(he tries to get sirius to let him help with rent and sirius says no because it’s a guest room, remus, you’re a guest, and guests don’t pay rent)
harry spending a lot of time with remus that summer while sirius works
sirius and remus and harry going to the quidditch world cup
ron staying with them in their tent
they get to the top box and they’re in front of the malfoys and sirius just kind of smirks at lucius
sirius’s heart in his throat when he can’t find harry after they’ve gotten the muggles down
sirius almost physically attacking barty crouch for accusing harry of casting the dark mark in the forest
(sirius almost physically attacking barty crouch a lot, tbqh)
sirius trying to be gruff and cheerful when he drops harry off at king’s cross on september first, and thinking about meeting james on that same train 23 years ago
hugging harry tightly but quickly, and harry gripping the back of sirius’s jacket
sirius worried but knowing that remus will look after harry at school
because of how slowly the wheels of justice move, pettigrew’s trial isn’t held until after harry is back at school
remus is there too because they’re both testifying witnesses
it’s a rough day
sirius wondering for a moment if azkaban is a place he’d wish on anyone, even wormtail
then remembering what it felt like to open the door to the cottage at godric’s hollow and seeing james’s body
there on the floor
remus pulls a block of chocolate out of his pocket and hands it to sirius
and then i honestly think sirius would have found a way to get harry out of the triwizard tournament, even if it meant kidnapping the kid
now i’m sad

(Source: bengaliprincess, via academicfeminist)

Tags: oh no fuck you who gave you the right harry potter sirius black SIRIUS IS MY FAVORITE OKAY CAST OUT UNWANTED CHILD OF A FAMILY TOO DROWNED IN PRIDE TO SEE THE WORLD CHANGE AROUND THEM I KINDA CONNECT OKAY LITERALLY NONE OF THE DEATHS IN THE LAST BOOK HIT ME AS HARD AS SIRIUS (that's a lie fred fred hit me that hard i can admit that) (and remus was a close second)

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January 21, 2016

346 notes

Anonymous asked: Through plot device of your choice, Kylo Ren has a child. Given the history of relations between the generations in his family, he decides infanticide is a great option. Unfortunately for Kylo, this goes about as well as infanticide usually goes in stories. So, if you'd like, tell us this kid's story!

wildehack:

….anon, I love me some dark shit. you know that, I know that. however, the first thing that my brain offered up upon hearing this beautifully fucked up scenario you presented me with was this:

The mission went south with Finn still inside the temple and a bomb about to detonate. “We’ve got six minutes before this whole island is space dust,” Poe yells down the comms, powering the ship back on, sensors be damned. “Get back here.”

“Shit!” Finn yelps into his ear, followed by the sound of blaster fire. “I’ve got the plans, but–shit!”

“Finn?” Poe demands. “Finn!”

“Poe,” Finn’s voice says, a little dazed. “You’ve got to come to me.”

There are five big guns and two walls between Poe and Finn, and five minutes to get away from the impact zone. “I’m on my way,” Poe says grimly.

Four absolutely insane minutes later Finn runs up the gangplank, curled defensively around something in his arms, and Poe guns them straight up, miles into the sky, the island exploding into light and heat beneath them. Poe lets out a whoop of exhilaration and sails them directly into hyperspace, laughing with relief.

He stops laughing when he hears the baby crying.

He turns around, and there is Finn, looking vaguely stunned, holding a baby.

“That’s a baby,” Poe manages, his mind utterly blank.

“They were gonna kill her,” Finn says in a soft voice, adjusting her carefully in his arms. “They left her on the altar, like some kind of–they were just going to leave her, Poe. I couldn’t leave her.”

“No,” Poe says faintly. “Of course not.”

There are three days between them and base. The baby is Human, blue-eyed, black-haired, toothless, and horrifically prone to wailing, which makes Poe want to weep with sympathy.

“I don’t get how you’re so bad at this,” Finn comments, rescuing Poe from a shaky attempt at bottle-feeding, one day into it. “It’s like you’ve never seen a baby before.”

“Only child,” Poe explains, wiping spit-up off his shoulder with a wince. “All my cousins are older. How are you so good at this?”

Finn smiles. “We all had creche duty, before final conditioning. I was the best at it,” he says, a little pride creeping into his voice.
“Clearly you have a gift,” Poe comments, because the baby is dozing against Finn’s shoulder now.

“We can’t just keep calling her baby,” Finn says, ignoring that. “You should name her.”

Poe laughs, a little unsteady. “I don’t know if I’m up for the honor.”

“You named me,” Finn says reasonably.

“I had something to go on, that time,” Poe says. “Besides. She might already have a name. Maybe they’ll be able to find her parents, or her home planet, back at base.”

Finn seems to take that seriously, giving the baby a searching look. About three months old, head full of curly hair, abandoned in the ruins of a Sith temple by the First Order. Not much to go on. “Who are you, little girl,” Finn says softly, and Poe rubs a hand over his mouth to distract himself from the abrupt ache in his chest.

“Let’s call her niña for now,” Poe suggests. “That’s ‘little girl’, on Yavin 4.”

Finn smiles at him, and the ache intensifies. “Niña,” he tries. “I like that.”

It takes six hours for “niña” to become “Nina”, and apparently that’s what’s sticking.

–

The General comes running as soon as they land, blaster on her hip, her eyes wild. “Where is he,” she rasps, looking past Poe to Finn.

“Sir?” Poe says, and she shakes her head abruptly.

“I thought I felt–” she breaks off with an indrawn breath, her eyes falling on Nina.

“Lieutenant Dameron rescued her, sir,” Poe says, his hand falling automatically on Finn’s shoulder to offer support. “I’ve got the full details in my report.”

The General swallows. Twice. Her eyes are full of tears, and Finn’s shoulder tenses under Poe’s hand. “You’d better take her to the medic tent,” she says in a hoarse voice, and then nods once. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Commander. You’ll report to me directly, once she’s safe.”

WOW FUCK YOU TOO.

Tags: I'M NOT CRYING THERE'S JUST SOMETHING IN MY EYE LIKE A FUCKING PIECE OF REBAR I DID NOT NEED THAT IN MY LIFE NO JESUS LEIA DESERVES BETTER THAN HER SHIT SON OKAY LEIA ORGANA DESERVES A FUCKING FAMILY FUCK YOU star wars tfa general leia moran becomes a tremendous fan of general leia organa: news at eleven like i know the boys were in there but that's literally all i got out of this