#and i support this message
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
gibbearish · 1 year ago
Text
love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking
59K notes · View notes
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
With the end of season two comes a second redraw!
[Nov 2022] [June 2023] [June 2024]
1K notes · View notes
anbaisai · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
Happy New Year!! 🎉🐍
It's the year of the snake, so who better to celebrate it with than our resident snake boy?
I may not be the best with words, but I really appreciate everyone that has showed me support in the past year. You guys have been amazing, and I hope to see you around in the new year too ❤
Thank you for an incredible 2024, and wishing everyone a wonderful 2025!
504 notes · View notes
rjshope · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Namseok through the years for @raplinenthusiasts ✨
+bonus:
Tumblr media
431 notes · View notes
nevertheless-moving · 18 days ago
Text
So You Just Killed Palpatine
In Which, Much To Obi-Wan Kenobi's Surprise, While Dealing With The Consequences of One's Own Action's Can Be A Lot, It Isn't Always Entirely A Bad Thing
originally inspired by this and this from anon and husborth Part One, Part Two, Part Three ... Part Fo ... uh ... there's memes somewhere... Anyway Here's Part Five:
Obi-Wan blinked awake, head cloudy and body heavy, as if under unusually high gravity. But no, there was the all-too-recognizable ceiling of the temple healing halls, its mosaic ceiling drifting in lazy, clockwise circles.
What did I do this time? Wait, there was something I had to tell the rest of the Jedi...something important...
Oh dear, he was on the good painkillers, wasn't he?
“Obi-Wan?” someone familiar asked, voice and force presence ringing with a startling jab of hope.
“Bant?” he tried to reply, only to be met with burning pain in his throat. The only thing he managed to get out was an unintelligible coughing fit which pulled sharply at his gut.
“Take it easy!” she urged, moving into his blurry line of sight. “You’ve had extensive abdominal surgery, and your throat was — was crushed rather severely — it’s going to take more time for the grafts to heal.”
Obi-Wan nodded, chastened, before cautiously starting the process of pushing himself up in bed, Bant hovering nervously all the while. The effort made his muscles ache and the room spin faster, but things settled down once he was sitting up.
He looked around, sagging in relief at a small oily handprint on one of the otherwise sterile visitor chairs. Anakin had been here recently, and was in good enough health to be tinkering. Good, that was good. That was important.
He suddenly realized half his vision was obscured and sluggishly raised a hand to his face, only to find heavy cloth.
“I’m sorry, we weren’t able to save your eye,” Bant said softly. “Once you’re a little more healed we can discuss artificial or bioengineered replacement options.”
She plucked a cup off a counter overcrowded with a dizzying array of flowers. “Here, drink some of this if you’re feeling up to it, it’ll make talking a little easier.”
Obi-Wan accepted the drink, only to feel it slide out of numb hands. Bant gently closed her hands around his, helping to guide the drink to his lips. He grimaced at the taste.
“Bacta infused water,” she apologized. “You’re going to be drinking bacta infused liquids for some time, I’m afraid.”
A wave of exhaustion swept over him and Bant set the cup down as Obi-Wan sagged.
“Anakin?” he managed to rasp out.
“Anakin’s fine, he’s completely safe,” Bant said with a comforting squeeze of his shoulder. “He’ll be annoyed to know he missed you waking up, he very much wanted to be there.”
Obi-Wan was going to say something else, but sleep dragged him under first.
//
Obi-Wan opened his eyes — his eye — to the sight of Quinlan Vos scowling over a datapad. The dark spot on the left side of his vision was more noticeable than before. What the kriff did I do to myself?
He shifted, irritated at how lethargically his body responded. The pad fell to the ground with a clatter as Quinlan lurched towards the bed.
“Obi-Wan! Hold on, let me — you’re supposed to have the water before you try to talk.”
Quinlan helped hold up a cup and straw so Obi-Wan could take several short sips of the unpleasantly viscous and vaguely pineapple flavored water.
“How are you feeling?” Quinlan asked, hovering with uncharacteristic anxiousness.
Obi-Wan paused to think. “Weak,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “How long have I been...”
Guilt flashed over Vos’s face. “You were in and out of Bacta tanks and surgery for a full two weeks. And then another week in an induced coma. And then another week in a self-healing trance. You had...a lot of internal injuries. I’m so sorry Obi-Wan—this is all my fault.”
Obi-Wan stared at Quinlan blankly for a moment. His face helped the memories to start trickling in.
"Yes..." he said slowly. "Yes — you knocked on my door... you said... Vos... please just... just tell me if I hallucinated anything — did I try to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?"
"I'd say you succeeded," Quinlan replied, half-smiling, half-grimacing.
"Did I — did we think he was a pedophile, only—”
He had to pause, throat burning as he fought a coughing fit. He swallowed more disgustingly flavored water before finishing the thought.
“—only to discover that he was in fact not sexually grooming Anakin, but was doing a number of other terrible things? And did he... did he — did he electrocute me...”
Obi-Wan’s voice trailed off and he took several more sips, throat filled with an uncomfortable fizzing sensation.
Quinlan nodded, wincing. “I mean parts of that you know better than me but yeah, that matches with what I understand.”
“Hm.” Obi-Wan finished the cup, mulling it over.
Quinlan Vos muttered something under his breath that Obi-Wan couldn't quite make out, but the word "dramatic" almost definitely featured.
Grey crept in around the corners of his vision, then black.
//
When he opened his eyes — his eye, he'd have to get used to that — next, he was greeted by a convenient and increasingly familiar cup at his bedside, as well as Master Windu. Obi-Wan quickly reached for the water, clutching it in both hands and taking a long drink.
Spurred on by the sight of the Master of the Order, he also reached for the urgent thought from earlier, wanting to get it out before he slipped back under —
“Chancellor Palpatine’s a Sith Lord!!”
The corners of Mace’s eyes crinkled. “Yes, Knight Kenobi," he said. "We’re aware of that now. You’ve proved it to be the case quite publicly. And ended the threat with remarkable... thoroughness.”
Obi-Wan head fell back. “A Sith Lord... the Chancellor!” he said in amazement. He was relieved to find his throat only barely twinging at his outburst.
“It truly stretches the imagination,” Mace agreed tolerantly.
“You’re telling me!” Obi-Wan took another long drink, head spinning.
Master Windu smoothed a crease from his robe before saying, with extreme delicacy, “I don't wish to pressure you into speaking before you've healed... but I admit, we’ve all been wondering how exactly you knew.”
"He force choked me and electrocuted me with Sith Lightning. Lighting! I thought that was a myth!” He drained the cup, hands shaking slightly.
“Yes,” Mace said quietly. “The healers were amazed you survived so long... let alone had the strength to fight back with such strength. We’re all extremely grateful to the Force for keeping you alive long enough for us to reach you.”
Obi-Wan made a mental note to feel grateful later, but his mental space was a bit of a mess at the moment, and he wasn't entirely certain he had filed it away correctly.
Master Windu sighed. “We would have been there sooner but I’m afraid none of us had any idea that you were going to confront a Sith.” A twinge of reproach crept into Windu's voice, but Obi-Wan set it aside along with the gratitude, to be examined at some later date. Ideally when his head felt less full of bantha wool.
“I had no idea,” Obi-Wan said numbly.
“Well you figured it out before the Council at least,” Mace replied, not without humor.
He couldn't help but snort. “Yes, because he shot lightning at me. I mean the force choking happened first but... lightning. Lightning!”
Lines formed between Master Windu's brows as he looked down at him. “As much as it pains me, I understand the risk assessment in not telling the High Council about a Sith Chancellor of the Republic, and goading a public fight was probably the best political move possible. But why start the confrontation so privately? It seemed rather — apologies, we can debrief on that when you're rested. I presume you were trying to get a confession about the droid and clone armies?”
Obi-Wan stared at Mace Windu wide-eyed.
“The what.”
The lines on Master Windu’s face deepened. “The... Kamonian clone army — the clones of Jango Fett...”
Obi-Wan’s eyes got wider. “Jango Fett—you mean Galidrean Jango Fett? The Jedi Killer? Palpatine made a clone army of him?”
Mace was silent for a long while, staring at Obi-Wan as though he were a particularly concerning puzzle. Obi-Wan chewed on the straw, mind wandering to whether or not it would be appropriate to ask Master Windu for a refill. As unpleasant as the flavor was, the fizzing did make his throat feel better.
“Knight Kenobi...” Mace finally said, speaking very slowly. “Do you remember why Chancellor Palpatine attacked you? The soul healers were quite certain the Sith Lord didn’t breach your inner shields but I think you might be suffering from some memory loss...”
His left eye itched; he resisted the urge to reach for it. Obi-Wan sank further into the cushions behind him, trying to think. Were there gaps in his memory? No, as usual, it all seemed a fairly clear path from Quinlan Vos knocking on his door to Obi-Wan ending up unconscious in the healing halls.
“Why Palpatine starting attacking?" he mused. "I suppose he wasn't going to just dance around forever — force, when he dodged my blaster shot, I simply could not understand how — it all happened so fast, but the next thing I knew I was pinned against the wall by a Dark —”
“Stop,” Master Windu ordered, raising his hand. He took a deep breath, radiating calm into the force.
“Do you remember what Palpatine said immediately before you shot him?” he asked patiently.
Obi-Wan shifted, feeling a pang of awkwardness as he muttered the answer guiltily under his breath.
“I’m sorry, Knight Kenobi, I didn’t quite catch that.”
“He said, ah, ‘you’re a Jedi’ and ‘you can’t kill an unarmed man.’”
Mace Windu stared at Obi-Wan.
There was a long pause while Obi-Wan fidgeted with the straw. He was starting to feel that perhaps his thoughts were even less clear than he had assumed them to be, and he was not handling this conversation particularly well.
Windu took another deep breath, radiating slightly less calm then before.
“Knight Kenobi. Why did you shoot the Chancellor of the Republic?”
“...I was trying to kill him,” Obi-Wan said, looking down.
“Why?”
Obi-Wan mumbled.
“Kenobi, speak clearly.”
“Well—ah—it actually turns out that I had misunderstood...I mean it had certainly seemed like...but he wasn’t actually...doing exactly what I thought...”
Windu stared at the recumbent Knight, who flushed.
It occurred to Obi-Wan for the first time, that, considering his plan of running away and becoming a bounty hunter was no longer possible nor, perhaps necessary, he could have misrepresented some of the timeline of events vis a vis sith slaying. Or better yet, pretended to have memory loss.
In his defense, the whole experience had been extremely unnerving! For all that weeks had clearly elapsed for everyone else, Obi-Wan was still processing Chancellor Palpatine shooting lightning out of his fingers.
A wave of exhaustion flooded over him, and he sank into it with relief, recognizing now the sickly sweet painkillers pulsing through his blood, clouding his thoughts and pulling him under.
//
Unfortunately, Mace Windu was still there when he woke up. Kriff.
He opened his mouth to try and backtrack, but Windu raised his hand, cutting off any poorly thought out explanations.
Master Windu took a deep breath, radiating very little calm by this point.
“Let me get this clear. Nod if yes, shake your head if no, did you go into the Chancellor’s office with the intent to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?”
Obi-Wan nodded.
“Did you know he was a Sith before you went into his office?”
Obi-Wan shook his head.
“Did you suspect he was a Sith?" Mace asked, slightly desperate.
Obi-Wan shook his head, cringing in apology.
“Before you went into the Chancellor’s office, were you aware that he was working with the Kaminoians to commission a clone army?”
Obi-Wan shook his head, biting back questions.
“Did you know he was working with the trade federation to commission a droid army?”
Another no.
“Did you suspect anything about these armies? Anything about a larger plot to destabilize the Republic? Destroy the Jedi? Become Emperor?”
Obi-Wan shook his head at each question, eyes widening with shock.
Mace Windu was radiating absolutely no calm at this point.
“Knight Kenobi...” he asked with a pained expression. “Did you... attempt to assassinate the Chancellor of the republic for personal reasons born out of some sort of misunderstanding? Only to inadvertently save the Republic?”
“I mean once I found out that he was a Sith... I of course changed tactics... and personal is a bit... but... that... Well. More or less sums the situation up, yes.”
Mace WIndu stared at Obi-Wan Kenobi, who wasn’t sure if he should keep talking or not. He didn't entirely trust his ability to explain things well at the moment, and ultimately decided to err on the side of silence.
Obi-Wan vaguely wished he could slip into sleep, but was fairly sure that it would be rude and possibly obvious to do twice in one conversation. His throat itched and he considered once again asking for more water, ultimately deciding against it.
Minutes passed, Master Windu staring blankly at the wall above Obi-Wan’s shoulders, while Obi-Wan's mind started to wander.
Who on earth had been paying to feed a clone army? How was Quinlan doing at getting Anakin to brush his teeth? Am I going to prison? Ohh that’s why the force was so insistent on killing Palpatine. Maybe that would help explain things to Master Windu? Though 'the force told me to' is  generally not considered a good excuse, in of itself, for acts of violence...though this is a rather unique situation...
Eventually Master Plo walked in, letting out a pleased noise.
“There he is! The Hero of the Republic!”
Mace Windu closed his eyes.
“Is that what they’re calling me?” Obi-Wan asked weakly, when it became clear Master Windu wasn’t ready to address everything wrong with that.
“Oh! Your drink is empty! Mace, Vokara was very clear with her instructions!” Master Plo scolded.
Mace Windu didn’t reply.
Plo-Koon snatched the cup, filling it up from a pitcher across the room and talking boisterously. “Well, the public is throwing around a lot of titles, but since you already had Sith Slayer...”
“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan said faintly, accepting the terrible water and drinking it for lack of anything better to do.
Plo-Koon patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “I’m afraid to tell you it’s going to be very difficult for you to dodge commendations for your actions. Now that you’re awake you’re going to be faced with quite a backlog of requests for ceremonies and interviews—”
Obi-Wan choked. “Ceremonies?” he repeated in a higher pitch. He snuck a look at Master Windu. His eyes were closed, though he didn't appear to be meditating.
That probably wasn't a good sign.
"Yes, ceremonies," Plo-Koon said with far too much relish. "Turns out there are quite a lot of old traditions on the books regarding —"
Master Healer Vokara Che entered the room at brisk pace. “I thought I heard voices — I will remind you that before he is the ‘Sith Slayer Returned’ or ‘The True Chosen One’ or any such nonsense he is first and foremost my patient.”
She gave a sharp look to both Council Members. Plo-Koon nodded contritely while Master Windu continued to not say or do anything.
“The — no, no Anakin’s the chosen one —" Obi-Wan sputtered. "Anakin’s the reason — people aren’t actually calling me that, right?” he asked, drugs doing an admirable job at suppressing the panic he was fairly sure he was going to feel later. The device in Master Che's hand beeped faintly in answer.
“That and more, young Kenobi,” another familiar voice suddenly added, below his field of vision. “To collect your honors, expect to survive, you did not, mmn?”
“Master Yoda! No, I—I really didn’t expect... any honors... at most I was hoping that people would understand...” Obi-Wan protested weakly, shooting Windu a beseeching look which yet again failed to garner a response.
Che rolled her eyes, flipping a lek behind her somewhat sarcastically as she attached a glowing device to his chest. "Of course you didn't."
He barely refrained from wincing as several needles bit into him.
“Perhaps we would have had a better chance of understanding had you left us any of your evidence,” Master Koon chided gently.
“Put together the pieces we did, in our time,” Yoda added, hopping up on the nightstand to affectionately poke his shoulder.
Obi-Wan leaned back, feeling increasingly light-headed.
“Your vitals look good, all things considered,” Master Che said, sounding smug. “You should be back to getting into trouble in a year or so.”
Obi-Wan jerked his head in her direction, aghast. “A year?!”
“Busy, you will be, if work you wish. A seat, open there is for you. Comfortable chair, good company, important duties.”
Master Windu’s eyes squeezed further closed.
“What?” Obi-Wan asked, bewildered.
The healer scowled. “You were bleeding heavily into more or less all your major organs, including your brain. Really, it would be faster for me to list organs that weren't damaged. The fact that you recovered at all is only because Master Gallia conducted ill-advised on-scene amateur healing—"
"Is she alright?" Obi-Wan asked.
"—ill-advised, but successfully non-self-detrimental amateur healing, and I’m a miracle worker, and, credit where credit is due, you’re a stubborn bastard; not to mention your padawan has far too much energy to throw around — you really should consider enrolling him some healer’s courses—”
“Is he alright?” Obi-Wan asked, more urgently.
“He’s fine,” Master Plo reassured him with a gentle hand on the shoulder. “Everyone is fine except for you. He just tired himself out a few times, but Knight Vos has been keeping a close eye on him, and Anakin understands that the best thing at this point is to let you heal under your own power."
“Can I see him?” he asked. His voice was growing hoarse despite the dutifully refilled cup.
Vokara’s face softened. “Of course. He’ll be stopping by after class, in another hour or so. He’s been very punctual.”
“Master Windu? Alright are you? Silent, you have been.” Mace flinched upon being prodded with a stick. He opened his eyes, pinning Knight Kenobi with a steely gaze. Obi-Wan shrunk back, but Windu just sighed.
“You...” he trailed off. He stood up slowly, as if the movement pained him.
"I —" he said authoritatively, quieting the room. "—am taking a sabbatical. Call me when—” Windu gestured vaguely. “—you all sort out this mess.”
He walked out.
A long moment passed. “What did you tell him?” Master Plo finally asked in a hushed whisper.
"Ah..." Obi-Wan paused, limbs heavy with fatigue. "Well — you see— " He closed his eyes, feeling slightly cowardly as he did so.
//
When he opened them again, the light hadn't shifted nearly as much as other inbetweens, and his bandages hadn't been changed. Master Plo was still there, speaking quietly with Yoda.
Shit.
"Not too long that time," Vokara said, pleased. "I've lowered the dose on some of your medications, it should make it easier to stay awake."
"Oh. Good," Obi-Wan replied.
"Young Kenobi." Plo-Koon moved closer. "I dislike pressuring you in your current state, but... Master Windu appears to have left the temple. We were wondering..."
Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it again, considering. His mind was, at last, starting to catch up with mouth. “He asked me... some questions. About how I came to suspect Palpatine," Obi-Wan said carefully. "It would appear I may have forgotten some details. About the evidence...Master Windu was — distressed regarding what I did and did not recall."
Vokara nodded. "Memory loss is completely understandable with the type of injuries you recieved."
"Alright, it is, if remember everything, you cannot," Yoda added kindly. "Our own investigations, ongoing are."
"So if I, ah, can't quite remember everything that led up to our fight," Obi-Wan asked, feeling guilty, but force, that blank look in Master Windu's eyes. "I mean I definitely remember the force willing me to decisively seek his end — really it was unusually loud about it," he added hastily. "If that helps."
Yoda nodded slowly. "This reason, understand we do. But, present to the public, perhaps not a good idea would be."
"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "I think — I'm not certain but I believe Quinlan Vos may have helped me collect some evidence..."
"Said as much, he did. Wait to confer with you, he wanted."
Obi-Wan sagged backwards with relief. "Yes. Yes! We had security concerns... Palpatine was so highly placed..." he trailed off.
"Considering Sifo-Dyas's and Count Dooku's entanglement in all this I can hardly blame you for hesitating to reach out to the council," Plo-Koon said, exhaustion audible even through his vocoder.
Obi-Wan choked on his spit; the following coughing fit was soon rewarded with a fresh bacta drink from Vokara.
Dooku?? Sifo-Dyas??
"Perhaps after I speak with him I'll be able to better assist with the current investigations," he offered hoarsely after recovering.
"Of course," Plo-Koon said gently. "Again, we apologize for interrogating you so early into your recovery but you really can't imagine the public and political scrutiny we've all been under —" He hesitated. "Master Windu was joking about taking a sabbatical right now, was he not?" he asked, sounding strained. "I know he's been under a lot of pressure, but surely you having memory issues couldn't—"
He was thankfully interrupted by the sound of small feet moving rapidly and a gangly body launching itself at highspeeds through the doorway.
Vokara just managed to snag the back of Anakin's robes before he crashed into Obi-Wan's medbed.
"Padawan Skywalker," she said, voice tight. "I believe I have mentioned the numerous injuries your master is recovering from and the need for —"
"Care in my movements," he said sheepishly. "Apologies, master, thank you."
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, something in his chest relaxing at the sight of his dangling student.
"Obi-Wan." His padawan's eyes immediately started filling with tears.
Obi-Wan reached out instinctively. "Oh, Anakin."
"Give you a moment, we will," Yoda said, hobbling out, as Vokara sighed, then gently placed his pupil on the floor.
"Of course," Plo-Koon agreed. "Take all the time you need." He hurried to catch up with Yoda. Obi-Wan heard him begin to say, "Mace can't actually be leaving us to deal with this clusterfu—'' Then the door closed, and Anakin was weeping at his bedside.
"Shh," Obi-Wan said, tugging his padawan up, ignoring the protestations of his abdomen. "There, there, it will be alright."
Anakin crawled up, movements ginger and uncertain around Obi-Wan's numerous injuries. Together, they somehow managed to shift Obi-Wan enough for Anakin to fit beside him. His padawan shook with suppressed sobs, and parts of him were almost certainly hanging awkwardly off the edge of the bed.
Obi-Wan ran one hand through Anakin's hair, the other hand gently resting where he could reach without twisting too much, probably an elbow, though the boy was pointy enough these days that he couldn't be sure. If Obi-Wan was also shaking, well. There was reason enough.
"Sheev," Anakin finally said, oozing misery and an overwhelming tangle of other unpleasant emotions into the force.
"...I know he was your friend—" Obi-Wan said, after what was hopefully not too long a pause. This was another conversation that probably wouldn't be helped by painkillers.
"But he wasn't, really." Anakin curled up, even more miserable. "I know. I should let go."
The side of Obi-Wan's head throbbed. On second thought, painkillers were the way to go here. "That's not what I meant," he said. "He was a friend to you. He's gone now. Because of me, your master. And... I'm sure you've found out a lot while I've been asleep. I can't imagine a single padawan learner who wouldn't be struggling with their emotions right now. I'm struggling."
"I'm angry," Anakin said into his side. "Master, I'm so full of anger."
"You think I wasn't?" Obi-Wan asked dryly.
Anakin hiccuped a sob. "I'm angry at everyone."
"It's alright, Anakin," Obi-Wan soothed. "You'll work through it in time. I'll be here to help, whenever you want. Even when I'm the one you're angry with."
Anakin sobbed another minute, force presence roiling, before finally pulling himself in with a deep breath, and wiping his nose on the sheets. "You looked so cool when you were angry," he mumbled into Obi-Wan's side.
"Oh force," Obi-Wan groaned. "Of course there was holofootage. Of course you watched."
"Are you... still angry?" Anakin asked.
Fuck.
Obi-Wan tried to think of the right answer for a padawan learner. His head throbbed again.
"Honestly? Right now I'm mostly just tired. I feel like I was run over by a pack of bantha. It's never a good idea to try and deal with large emotional gnarls while you're this exhausted, remember that my young padawan."
"You've been asleep for years," Anakin whined. "How are you still tired?"
"Years?" he asked, amused.
"At least three," Anakin huffed, curling up against him.
Obi-Wan stroked his hair in peaceful silence for a moment.
"...Did you really smash in his skull with a metal chair to protect me?"
"I would do a lot of things to protect you," he confessed. "I'm sorry Anakin — I should have talked with you when I grew concerned with his behavior. I felt at the time I had to act swiftly, but I worry I only caused you more pain."
"It was a really cool fight."
"...Thank you, padawan."
"Can you teach me how to choke people with my ankles like that?" he sniffled.
Obi-Wan groaned internally. "Of course, as a Jedi, violence—" 
"Violence is our last resort," Anakin interrupted. "Right, yeah —but if it is needed—"
"—Such as when someone," Obi-Wan said over him. "After careful consideration, is found to be both politically insulated and positioned to commit great further harm—"
"Actually, I think you, the person who killed my trusted friend, lecturing me on why he was ultra especially irredeemably evil is traumatizing, even more traumatizing than all those holo compilations of you —"
"Oh force above, of course there's — oh. Oh no — please don't tell me—"
"The latest Jizz music," Anakin said, far too gleeful.
Obi-Wan groaned. Unfortunately, the extra movement in his chest triggered an admittedly ghastly sounding coughing fit and Anakin immediately lost the small edge of grace he had managed to cultivate during their back and forth.
"Master?" he asked urgently. "Master — hold on — I'll go get—"
"I'm fine," Obi-Wan rasped. "Any more of that —"
Anakin was already scrambling to fetch the pitcher.
Such a good boy, he thought affectionately, watching him pour and carry over a glass with the same care others might have when handling molten gold.
Obi-Wan drank with a reciprocal amount of delicacy, knowing his padawan was watching falcon-eyed for any wasted drops.
"Perhaps we should finish this conversation a little later," Obi-Wan said, once his airways calmed down.
Coughing should not be this exhausting.
"Of course," Anakin said, subdued, but he crawled back into bed readily enough when Obi-Wan patted it.
“Really, though —” Obi-Wan started to say, feeling it was duty to try and wrap up the lesson, but he was fortunately cut off before he was forced to figure out exactly what that lesson was.
“It’s alright,” Anakin chimed comfortingly. “We have time to talk about it, master. Can’t you tell?”
“Hm?” Obi-Wan replied, fighting the droop of his eyelids. 
“The force clears,” Anakin said, voice sonorous. “The dark retreats.”
“Oh.” Obi-Wan’s eyes started falling closed. “That’s nice.”
“So we have time. To figure out the rest.”
 “Very nice,” Obi-Wan murmured.
His padawan curled against him, force presence like ocean waves rocking him to sleep.
“The force says it’s going to be alright,” Anakin whispered, wonderingly. “It’s going to be alright.”
Obi-Wan smiled, then once again slipped back to sleep.
215 notes · View notes
majoruyeda · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Morning coffee
If you enjoy my fanarts and art, consider supporting me through Ko-fi! Hologram message:
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
bellenotthebeast · 3 months ago
Text
Hello.
I want you to listen. Don’t scroll away because of the buzz word ‘Lando’.
Listen.
This has gone beyond hate for Lando. This about all the drivers.
This is about treating drivers respectfully. This is about your parasocial relationships with the drivers. This is about you reading into everything they say.
This is about the F1 media taking clips out of context because they don’t want a race they want a drama.
This is about you taking those clips and not bothering to find the original source, and taking it to fuel a hatred for someone you don’t know.
This is about you hating on a new driver because you miss the old one.
This is about you sending hate to fans of a driver you don’t like.
When I dislike something I scroll- I ignore, because it’s not worth my time. Why should I let the social media algorithm think I like the video because I watch it? I block a person I dislike. I don’t go onto their account and spend time out of my life to comment.
But unfortunately the amount of hate I’m seeing it’s getting hard to ignore it.
Haters and fans. Opposite end of the spectrum, still on the same spectrum.
You’re still thinking about the guy you supposedly hate. You talk about him under other driver related posts, you make it your entire personality.
You make it toxic.
The difference in drivers is what makes the sport fun. I’m friends with people who have other favourite drivers. What we do is we talk about the race. We talk about how their driver did really well and what mine could’ve done better. We have fun.
Because it’s the sport that bonds us.
I don’t send death threats to them. People have become so obsessed with other peoples lives and it shows.
A driver can’t say he feels lonely without getting jumped on for it. A driver gets asked his opinion after a high adrenaline race, one he feels he didn’t do well and he sounds a little bitter. Of course he’s going to. Yet you read into it.
He celebrates and you read into it.
And then dislike them when they decide not to do anything anymore.
You criticise them for the mistakes they’ve already owned up to and refuse to even acknowledge the good they’ve achieved.
New fans get scared to join because they worry everyone will hate them. Which kills the sport in turn.
Lando. Max. Every single driver on the grid do not know you. And you do not know them. You know of them. You do not know them.
You do not know what they do or who they are the moment they’re away from the cameras.
You do not need to like a driver. Nor do you need to dislike them. I don’t dislike drivers, I just have drivers I favour a bit more than others. Because why would I hate them?
I dislike some of the things they do- during the race. Of course. I’m bitter after a race doesn’t go well. I’m a fan of the sport.
But that’s as far as it goes.
I do not care for their personal life as it’s theirs, nor do I care for what minuscule thing they’ve done.
If you don’t feel called out, then good- I’m not talking about you. You’re the good ones. If you are feeling ‘attacked’ then perhaps it’s time to rethink what you want to spend limited time, that is your life, on.
We only have so many minutes in our lives to actually live. So live it. Don’t spend it on hating on others.
Good day/night. 😊
316 notes · View notes
rinamata05 · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
Art vs Artists 2024
Thank you always for all the support <3
198 notes · View notes
theshitpostcalligrapher · 1 year ago
Text
yall wanna know how badly they fucked up my minecraft migration?
while moving some files around to unfuck my storage issues i have discovered that my minecraft authentication lives SOMEWHERE in my local files. on my pc.
as in
if i log in to literally ANY OTHER DEVICE
if I utilize ANY other minecraft launcher (for modded minecraft presets, for example)
it's missing whatever MYSTERIOUS authentication file is in here:
Tumblr media
that tells microsoft that yes, I DO have the game key, I DID purchase the game in 2020 legitimately, PLEASE let me play the game as my established fockinorb handle
because if I dont, it logs me in as my default microsoft xbox account and asks me to buy the game.
'mia why don't you just go to your settings when you're logged in as fockinorb and fix that'
oh you mean this???
Tumblr media
yeah that takes me to the exact same default ass microsoft xbox account that thinks I don't own the game
that mojang fockinorb account goes nowhere
713 notes · View notes
sensiblereblogifposts · 1 year ago
Text
Hi.
I'm going to break my very strict format for once because I need your help. For the past 9 years, the irl human behind this blog has been involved in the effort to save a museum from incompetent and money hungry executives.
The museum is filled with precious objects, telling the story of the history of technology, and how it relates to art and society.
Many of these are objects are large, but delicate and have been in place for over 30 years.
No one within the museum's community trusts the CEO, who was appointed by a hostile former government, and prefers renting out museum spaces for business functions over educating the public.
In a few days, the museum is set to close down for renovations. Yet none of the staff or volunteers have been given any clear details about these plans. All we know is displays which have inspired generations will be torn down, likely never to be restored.
We have a petition asking the new government to step in and stop the closure:
If you could sign this, you'd be doing the human behind this blog a massive favour.
960 notes · View notes
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Happy Valentine's Day! (and this blog's first post anniversary!)
911 notes · View notes
stoupax · 1 year ago
Text
“but what if other people follow Aaron Bushnell’s example and go killing themselves?!”
if our leaders give a shit, they’ll answer his call to action and prevent that from happening, which is the whole goddamn point. he didn’t want more people following suit. he wanted to be the last fucking straw. if other people copy him, then you know who to blame, he TOLD us: the ruling class.
798 notes · View notes
daily-spooky · 8 months ago
Note
Thank you for making this blog
My pleasure
Tumblr media
373 notes · View notes
fridgefanatic · 1 year ago
Text
Wall-E (the character) is a great demonstration of how being curious about the world echoes our level of care for it. And that caring can quite literally course-correct humanity His playful fascination with what humans left behind, his ability to find "new" on a dormant planet of waste refuse-- he continues to care and be amazed by and change things in a world that has not effectively changed for about 700 years. Wall-E commemorates artifacts of life by treasuring them on their own special shelves in his home. He lovingly makes sure The Plant is secured in a way that won't crush it as he's going home. He accidentally runs over his cockroach and worries about it. He tries to make an inactive Eve comfortable at his expense, not knowing when or if she will ever wake up again.
Wall-E has such an impact on Eve and other passengers on the Axiom because he invites them to care about small interactions they took for granted. They make meaningful connections and changes in their own directive because-- simply by being interested by them and what they're doing-- he offers a new perspective of looking at themselves. (Remember when he gives the elevator robot that little wave and it's so taken with that gesture it starts to copy it? It was seen and acknowledged when its role has always been to punch numbers.)
The spark that Wall-E shared with Eve, I think, is not only symbolic of his love for Eve (though it is clear he loves Eve more than anyone). It was that care. It has to be that same care. Because if his little acts of wonder and determination inspired every other character to break from their programming, who's to say it can't overcome a factory reset?
Oh, and "curiosity" and "care" have the same etymological root, apparently
720 notes · View notes
mariigoldzz · 1 month ago
Text
No offense but I feel like a lot of those pretentious hunger games posts about how the fandom "continues to ignore the message!" and how the movies "are bad representations of a great series and Suzanne Collins is a poor misunderstood author😡" are written to make the OP seem smart. There IS some truth these posts, but don't forget that Sunrise On The Reaping's book and movie were announced the same day. She clearly has SOME sort of contract or wants Lionsgate to make movies on her books. If she was THAT "misunderstood and angry at the film industry." like some people in this fandom claim then Haymitch would only get a book, not his own movie to go with it. Sorry.
Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion. You don't have to like the movies, and you can be mad at the fandom. These posts are starting to get on my nerves though and I needed to rant. (More in the tags)
127 notes · View notes
kooldewd123 · 6 months ago
Text
At the start of each Animorphs book, before the first chapter begins, there is a page. On it is a simple acknowledgement. Two names. The first name is Michael - Katherine Applegate's husband and co-writer on the series. The second name is that of a boy. This name belongs to their son. Or, should I say, belonged to their son. Because they don't have a son anymore. They have a daughter. Every time I pick up an Animorphs book, I can't help but linger on this page as I quite literally hold her deadname in my hands. It's a peculiarly beautiful feeling. Peculiar because the context behind that name makes it seem all the more personal. I feel like I've violated her privacy simply by knowing it, even though it's openly out there for anyone to read. But beautiful because dammit, doesn't this represent this series's relationship with the queer community so well? Animorphs is often regarded as a queer (and especially trans) narrative, despite the fact that such subtext was completely unintentional. Applegate did not write Animorphs to be queer media, but she's embraced the fact that it has became so in the hands of the fans. How perfectly fitting is it, then, that she unknowingly dedicated the entire series to a trans woman?
366 notes · View notes