genuinely soaring cuz when any woman says "men who prey on girls, traffic them, abuse them, manipulate them should die" its a month long debate over the 1 viral tweet so respected rapper Kendrick Lamar came in with "men who prey on girls, traffic them, abuse them, manipulate them should die"
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Dear Dennis, you gave birth to a master manipulator
Even usin' you to prove who he is is a huge favor
I think you should ask for more paper, and more paper
And more, uh, more paper
I'm blamin' you for all his gamblin' addictions
Psychopath intuition, the man that like to play victim
You raised a horrible fuckin' person, the nerve of you, Dennis
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wip wednesday (early cause im offline tmrw)
When the dust settles, Obi-Wan is surprised to find himself still standing.
It takes all of him, he thinks, the end of the war. It takes everything he has.
He used to wonder, in a distant, nebulous way, what it would feel like in the aftermath. How his life would return to the routines he held before Geonosis, if the cadence of Temple life would feel strange and unfamiliar to him after so long spent in the trenches. If he would miss the sound of his men behind and around him, the steady stream of words and laughter and presence of others, at all times, surrounding him.
It’s only when the dust settles, when the first grains of sand whip through the arid desert air to sting his eyes, that he realizes that every time he ever allowed himself to think about the end of the war, he’d always assumed that they would win. He had never truly thought they would be defeated. That the Jedi Order, the Temple itself, so strongly entrenched in the galaxy and in Coruscant and in Obi-Wan’s world view, were capable of falling.
He had cautioned others against the same assumptions the moment he heard them. He had warned his own padawan to not look too far into the future, to not plan too much for the war’s end. He had told many people—clones, civilians, holonet reporters, other Jedi—that it was dangerous to think of the war as something they would inevitably win. Nothing was inevitable, especially not victory.
But he realizes now, only now, only as he traverses the desert on the back of a stolen eopie, wearing robes still smelling so strongly of volcanic sulfur that his eyes are stinging with reactionary tears, that he’d thought. He’d always thought.
He’d never really considered…this.
This aftermath, where he is still standing on shaking legs and everything that he has ever cared for in the world has become ash, has become the dust settling around him.
Everything he has ever known and loved and fought for has slipped through his fingers. When the dust settles, when he looks down at his hands, he expects to find them empty.
Instead, there is a baby in his arms.
And he knows—he knows intimately how much damage these hands are capable of. What hurt these hands can inflict even on those he loves. Loved.
He knows, as the homestead rises up in the fading light of the two suns, that these hands should not cradle this baby. Not the son of the man he has murdered. Not his brother’s son. Not his padawan’s. Not Anakin’s.
He knows the babe is safest here on this farm in the care of this couple. He knows he must leave the child with them, to raise and love a thousand times better than he is capable of. He has tried before. He has failed one Skywalker already.
He knows.
And he can’t. He cannot let him go.
While the Galactic empire rises on one side of the galaxy, the dust settles on the other and Obi-Wan Kenobi looks down at the babe in his hands and realizes that he cannot let him go.
Not another Skywalker.
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one thing i noticed looking back at the start of trimax volume 12... we get that whole sequence where Vash is standing at the precipice & thinking about his past
i'd like to draw attention to This bit:
i didnt notice it when i first read it, but... that sleeve bit there? he's holding his arm. we don't get to see what he's actually thinking, but he's holding the bicep of his left arm - the arm he lost. considering he's standing in wait of Knives for their final battle, he's clearly remembering the time he lost it. to Knives.
(more notes under the cut)
he proceeds to think through the mistakes he's made and the people he's met... but something noteworthy that I find really interesting is that anime-only characters are present in the lineup.
take these two pages.
it's the sheriff lady and the rich dude from 98 episode 2
the plant engineer from Lost July, episode 6
the fake Vash the Stampede & Frank Marlon (not the other Marlon we meet in the manga, who's his grandson) from episode 3
the boomerang guy (who is in the manga Technically, though we didnt see vash meet him) & the blonde gunman from episode 1. and the dancing girl & her guy friend from episode 11.
all "filler", supposedly, but Vash knows them. the implication of this being that Vash has had some amount of those adventures even in the manga (though the different Marlons makes that part a little more muddied - maybe he knew Frank Marlon in a similar way to the anime, though the girls couldn't have been there in this version if he's the current Marlon's grandfather).
also please just admire this pic of meryl and milly bc i love them so much
anyways.
the spreads continue until we reach this iconic page:
Vash went through his memories of all the people he met to steel himself for the battle to come, but these are the last two he thinks about. The two he arguably holds dearest in his heart, and the two whose losses hurt him the most. He remembers Rem as she was, smiling lovingly down at him. He remembers Wolfwood as he left him. Just a grave.
Their memory calms him. He's thinking of the reasons he's fighting, and they're the most important ones.
Bolstered by the memories of the people he loves and the mistakes he's made, he's ready to face his fate.
(all pages from @trigun-manga-overhaul)
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Bakugo 100% teaches you some kind of code; so he can always check in - just in case anything ever happens to either of you.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a hushed word whispered into his ringing ears after he winds up in the hospital. His body bruised and broken, nerves too frayed to feel the warmth of your palm on his.
An awkward hand gesture he flashes during a TV interview as he makes his way home from a no-contact overseas mission.
Or a giggled ‘…’ as he calls you, checking in because his patrol has run a little long.
He just wants to know you’re okay… And that wherever he is, he’s thinking about you.
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