I’M SORRY, BUT IS THAT A SPOOL OF GUTERMANN BLACK THREAD SITTING ON THE WEIRD RAGGEDY RECLAIMED WOOD TABLE THERE????
I mean, did Derek preface the creepy fingernail ouija party by SEWING ALL THE HOLES IN HIS BLACK CLOTHING, WHICH IS ALL OF HIS CLOTHING????? Oh man. Oh MAN. Derek must hit up JoAnn Fabric all the TIME, and the ladies who work there think he’s just this fun crafty guy! A dude who SEWS! They love it. They tell him when they get new fabrics in. They ask him if he’s been thinking about upgrading his old Singer (he doesn’t actually have one, but there was a weird conversation he didn’t know how to get out of and he mumbled “uh-huh” at the wrong moment, it was a whole thing). They ask him if he’s ever considered trying HeatnBond for his hemming needs. They ask him if he’d be interested in their upcoming quilting seminar. They give him reminder cards about when the scissors sharpener person is coming to the store, in case he has any blades that have gone dull. One of them notices that one of his buttons is barely hanging on and she shows him how to sew them on securely. One time he bought one of those embroidery floss organizers (for storing bullets and poisons and broken dream fragments in) and now they think he does needlework.
I’ve never seen (and probably never will) Teen Wolf, but I still couldn’t resist reblogging this…
Okay, okay, I’m going to tell you what Hermione sees in Ron.
A trio is a balancing act, right? They’re equalizers of each other. Harry’s like the action, Hermione’s the brains, Ron’s the heart. Hermione has been assassinated in these movies, and I mean that genuinely—by giving her every single positive character trait that Ron has, they have assassinated her character in the movies. She’s been harmed by being made to be less human, because everything good Ron has, she’s been given.
So, for instance: “If you want to kill Harry, you’re going to have to kill me too”—RON, leg is broken, he’s in pain, gets up and stands in front of Harry and says this. Who gets that line in the movie? Hermione.
“Fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself.” Hermione doesn’t say Voldemort’s name until well into the books—that’s Dumbledore’s line. When does Hermione say it in the movies? Beginning of Movie 2.
When the Devil’s Snare is curling itself around everybody, Hermione panics, and Ron is the one who keeps his head and says “Are you a witch or not?” In the movie, everybody else panics and Hermione keeps her head and does the biggest, brightest flare of sunlight spell there ever was.
So, Hermione—all her flaws were shaved away in the films. And that sounds like you’re making a kick-ass, amazing character, and what you’re doing is dehumanizing her. And it pisses me off. It really does.
In the books, they balance each other out, because where Hermione gets frazzled and maybe her rationality overtakes some of her instinct, Ron has that to back it up; Ron has a kind of emotional grounding that can keep Hermione’s hyper-rationalness in check. Sometimes Hermione’s super-logical nature grates Harry and bothers him, and isn’t the thing he needs even if it’s the right thing, like when she says “You have a saving people thing.” That is the thing that Harry needed to hear, she’s a hundred percent right, but the way she does it is wrong. That’s the classic “she’s super logical, she’s super brilliant, but she doesn’t know how to handle people emotionally,” at least Harry.
So in the books they are this balanced group, and in the movies, in the movies—hell, not even Harry is good enough for Hermione in the movies. No one’s good enough for Hermione in the movies—God isn’t good enough for Hermione in the movies! Hermione is everybody’s everything in the movies.
Harry’s idea to jump on the dragon in the books, who gets it in the movies? Hermione, who hates to fly. Hermione, who overcomes her withering fear of flying to take over Harry’s big idea to get out of the—like, why does Hermione get all these moments?
[John: Because we need to market the movie to girls.]
I think girls like the books, period. And like the Hermione in the books, and like the Hermione in the books just fine before Hollywood made her idealized and perfect. And if they would have trusted that, they would have been just fine.
Would the movies have been bad if she was as awesome as she was in the books, and as human as she was in the books? Would the movies get worse?
She IS a strong girl character. This is the thing that pisses me off. They are equating “strong” with superhuman. To me, the Hermione in the book is twelve times stronger than the completely unreachable ideal of Hermione in the movies. Give me the Hermione in the book who’s human and has flaws any single day of the week.
Here’s a classic example: When Snape in the first book yells at Hermione for being an insufferable know-it-all, do you want to know what Ron says in the book? “Well, you’re asking the questions, and she has to answer. Why ask if you don’t want to be told?” What does he say in the movie? “He’s got a point, you know.” Ron? Would never do that. Would NEVER do that, even before he liked Hermione. Ron would never do that."
Deleted scene from the critically acclaimed film, Gravity.
oh my god, you tried
Fact: If there were a button I could press to make Sir Patrick Stewart a regular fake news correspondent I would never stop pressing it
dagger | petite | bashful | persian | bird of prey
Everyone has it, but no one can lose it. Everyone has it but no one can lose it. What is it, Stiles?
I’m selling all my ASOIAF pieces as prints at the Ltd Art Gallery “WINTER IS COMING” show! They are all available online as easily frameable 8x10 giclee prints on watercolor paper for $20 each, should you like to buy one. They’re each limited to only 25 prints, too!
In the past I haven’t offered all of these for sale as prints because the original files were kinda small, but I went back in and reformatted, tweaked colors, and cleaned everything up.
It’s so funny, you go to acting school thinking you’re going to learn how to be other people, but really it taught me how to be myself. Because it’s in understanding yourself deeply that you can lend yourself to another person’s circumstances and another person’s experience.