g00seg1raffe
It starts with lotr let's see how this goes... random useless thoughts I must share with strangers on the internet or I will go insane
98 posts
Latest Posts by g00seg1raffe
hey guys. guys. hey. get this -
submissive and breathable
Lemme do some quick googling
I see your Padme as a force ghost in her flowing funeral gown with flowers in her hair and i raise you, force ghost Padme in her hospital gown.
Since early childhood Padme has always been painted and decorated and a lot of that comes from Naboo’s culture. But as someone else put it, there’s an intense kind of body horror in a 14 year old girl repeatedly having to change outfits and put on heavy makeup and wigs while her entire planet is under seige.
For that to continue into death feels unfair to her. Let her be in her bloody hospital gown with sweat plastering her hair to her forehead and red swollen eyes, tear tracks down her cheeks. Let her not have to maintain her image after fucking dying. Let her be angry and bitter and want people, want her husband to see her pain.
Let Vader look at his wife’s ghost and see that although she didn’t die directly by his hand, she still suffered and she’s not trying to hide it from anyone.
Commander "Thunder Thighs" Cody is known and loved, but consider, for extra bonus points - Captain Rex has thee most Incredible Forearms known to man, woman, or nb fan.
Controversial Take: the whole 'chosen one' thing in the prequels is completely pointless, serves no narrative purpose that could not be easily filled by any number of other factors, and actually makes the films worse by being included but never actually explored in any meaningful detail other than the fact that it's just. kinda there.
I feel like it's not addressed enough that Obi-Wan was so not ready for Anakin at the end of TPM. He wasn't quite ready to be a Knight, let alone take a Padawan, let alone Anakin.
Like, imagine you're 25 years old, already dealing with plenty of issues from your shitshow of a teen-to-young-adult experience when your Master - your father, your friend, your teacher, your guardian of 12 years, who you didn't always have the best relationship with but goddamn it you tried so hard and overcame so much to get to where you are - is literally murdered in front of you by a fucking demon, the ancient bogeymen of all your childhood stories who are suddenly very real and killing the people you love. Everyone looks at you now with so much awe and fear because, in a haze of grief and panic, you managed to become the first to kill a demon in a millennium - which is somehow that's enough of a qualification to immediately graduate your apprenticeship with full honours even though you never actually got the chance to finish it. Five minutes of pure terror turned your life upside down, and now you have to shoulder the burdens of a knighthood that you know you're not ready for, and find some way to live with the crushing expectations that come with your newfound, accidental and very unwanted semi-legendary status. And, if that wasn't enough already, within 24 hours of all this going down, you're also legally responsibly for raising a hyperactive 9 year old ex-slave Child of Prophesy with crippling CPTSD and more power than god. You somehow, somehow have to raise this boy to be both a good Knight - which you haven't had a chance to figure out how to be yourself yet - and a functional person - which was never and easy thing for you to be but is getting harder by the day. You desperately want to do right by your new Padawan and honour your Master's dying wish but you're not ready for any of this, you didn't ask for it, and you're trying so hard to not repeat Qui-Gon's mistakes whilst also being painfully aware that you can never live up to what he could have been. Then there's homework and missions and nightmares and you worry that Anakin isn't making friends and you haven't slept more than 3 hours a night in weeks and the President of the Galaxy is pressuring you for some Private Alone Time with your child -
How the fuck is anyone supposed to handle that?
Currently on 73,810 signatures
once we hit 100,00, the petition will be considered for debate in Parliament. We can do it, yall!
Uk peeps!! Let’s get this going! 🏳️⚧️🇬🇧
@frenchkey gave me the prompt 'getting the blood out' last night and I turned it into CodyWan angst
He shouldn't have taken it. It wasn't his to take, and had been abandoned as unimportant. It was just cloth, after all; empty and useless and bloodstained.
Bloodstained. Because Obi... Because General Kenobi had helped a wounded soldier to their transport before the Sith had attacked, and the General had discarded his cloak in order to give chase. There was no reason for Cody to have retrieved it, and less reason to have kept it, rather than returning it to its rightful owner.
The bloodstains bothered him, though. It seemed... rude to return the cloak in its dirtied state. So he'd kept it.
The fabric was soft under his fingers, well worn and thick enough to provide protection from the elements for a wide range of human and near-human species.
For a wild moment, Cody felt the urge to slide the garment over his shoulders and feel the weight of it falling into place, to feel a sensation that was so familiar to his General. He gave himself a mental kick in the shebs to move on from the urge, rather than do something so ridiculous as try on a Jedi's robes.
Instead, he moved to the 'fresher, glad that, as Marshall Commander, he was afforded his own berth with attached cleaning facilities. He had everything needed at hand to remove blood from clothing, though he usually sent his blacks to the laundry rather than washing them himself, regardless of their state. It wasn't as though his blacks were any different from anyone else's, so he was hardly worried about them getting mixed up in the wash.
The cloak held onto the dried-in blood more stubbornly than Cody's blacks ever had, crafted more with the intent to be sturdy and long lasting than with consideration for the number of bodily fluids likely to soil the fabric. Still, Cody was patient, refusing to devolve into frustrated scrubbing and risk damaging the cloak.
It felt almost soothing to work the flakes of blood out of the weave, and while the harsh scent of chemicals stung at Cody's nose, he found great satisfaction in the results of his work.
He hung the garment up to dry, resolving to bring it to General Kenobi in the morning.
His berth seemed cold when he finally made it back, though Cody was sure that the cause was entirely emotional.
They'd been betrayed. The Jedi had turned on the Republic; tried to murder the Chancellor. He couldn't understand what would drive them to such an act. Obi-Wan had always spoken of a desire for peace, for an end to the war and senseless killing. Why would the Jedi - why would Obi-Wan - then try to undermine the Republic in such a way? Had it all been a lie from the start?
Who would fight for the clones, now that the Jedi had turned traitor? They'd been among the few to treat the clones as anything more than droids made of flesh and bone, and that made the betrayal sting deeper. How could Obi-Wan abandon them like that? How could he leave them to face a galaxy that saw them as unthinking, unfeeling tools? How could he leave Cody?
Buried at the very bottom of his footlocker, under his spare blacks and his dress greys, Cody withdrew a bundle of brown fabric, worn soft and still smelling faintly of tea and cleaning chemicals. He'd never had a chance to return the cloak, having been thrown into an ambush before the ship's night cycle was over, and then running from one engagement to the next until it had seemed far too awkward to reveal he'd had the cloak the entire time, and Obi-Wan had soon requisitioned a replacement, leaving Cody to hide the original away.
He should have thrown it away long ago. There was no good reason to have kept it at all, and yet...
The fabric felt warm as it settled around his shoulders, the scent of Obi-Wan's favourite tea mingling with the ozone smell off blasters and lightsabers. Cody's eyes began to burn, and he lowered himself to his cot, wrapping the voluminous folds of the cloak around himself like a youngling in a blanket, swaddled safely by a parent.
Obi-Wan was gone.
Cody had killed him.
Traitor or not, Cody had killed the first and only natborn to call him a friend. Obi-Wan was his friend, and he'd betrayed everything they had fought for, everything they had sacrificed and bled for, and so Cody had been made to do the unthinkable.
Lifting one overlong sleeve to his mouth to muffle his sobs, Cody fell apart, tears soaking the fabric in a matter of moments as he shook with the force of his grief. Obi-Wan was dead, and Cody had killed him, and now he would never have a chance to beg for answers, never know why Obi-Wan had chosen to betray the Republic.
He fell asleep still wrapped in the cloak, unable to bring himself to forgo the comfort of one last embrace from the man he'd called his friend.
...that is the most terrifying whale noises i have ever heard. feed me more.
NASA Data Sonification: Black Hole Remix
In this sonification of Perseus. the sound waves astronomers previously identified were extracted and made audible for the first time. The sound waves were extracted outward from the center. (source)
Elizabethan Husband: Belovéd wife? Elizabethan Wife: What tis't, my husband? Elizabethan Husband: Where lies my Raiment of Power? Elizabethan Wife: Pray speak again? Elizabethan Husband: Where. Doth. My. Raiment. Lie? Elizabethan Wife: 'Tis, uhhh, stowéd. Elizabethan Husband: Whence dids't thou stow it? Elizabethan Wife: Wherefore doth thy heart cry out to know? Elizabethan Husband: More dearly than life do I need it! Elizabethan Wife: Nay, faithless rogue, conscious thou no swift flight to battle - marry, for two months hath this feast been contrivéd! Elizabethan Husband: Peril and doom lies over the sweet Christendom! Elizabethan Wife: Peril and doom lies over this sweet evening! Elizabethan Husband: Balk not but tell me where my Raiment lies, tyrannous wretch! Of the greatest duties of honour and goodness do we speak! Elizabethan Wife: O, "the greatest duties" - spew not such dotage, for I am thy wife! I am greatest of thy duties of goodness!
Elizabethan Peasant 1: Look yonder! Someone has writ upon that ceiling that thou art most easily gulled!
Elizabethan Peasant 2: More fool they, for I cannot read.
Elizabethan Peasant 1: *sighing, lowers his visage unto his palm*
Ah yes, the Seven Genocidal Sons of Feanor -
Helen of Troy, Beyoncé, Bear Grylls, Scrooge McDuck, Nikola Tesla and the Grady twins
Whoever mentioned a post about going to war and meeting Maglor is like going to war and meeting Beyoncé, I love you lmao- Now consider, going to war and meeting Maedhros, which is basically like going to war and meeting the world's top super-model✨
the house of fingolfin as bizarre t shirts
tag yourself im well paint me green and call me a pickle
Note for fingon's shirt: article 7 sections 553-4 of the maryland annotated code prohibited sodomy, oral sex and “any other unnatural or perverted sexual practice with any other person” - aka anything fun.
The house of Finwe (first gen) as bizarre t shirts
tag yourself I'm Mitskibidi
The house of Feanor family tree feat. bizarre t shirts
tag yourself I'm notice me sin pi
the fellowship of the ring as bizarre t shirts
tag yourself I'm delululemon
Hc that the clones' pigdin evolves so fast over the course of the war that each battalion ends up having it's own distinct accent, influenced by the different languages, accents and cultures they're exposed to via their jedi, the planets they visit, the other battalions they interact with, even trending holo-series. (did anyone else have a very intense Brambly Hedge phase as a child that included imitating the weirdly upper-class accents of those funky lil play doh mice???)
Eventually this leads to a multi-layered Disaster of a 'language' (like english) where there's 18 different words for everything, grammar is for squares, and your CMO can cuss you out non-stop for the entire 45-minute shrapnel extraction surgery without ever repeating himself.
Mandalorian head cannons part three: Accents
Concord Dawn: A thick, country western accent. Often noted for its roughness and harsh sounding words. To Mando'ade living on Mandalore, it is intelligible, and it is considered butchered Mando'a by the upper class. Jango Fett and Jaster Mereel have really strong Concord Dawn accents, Jaster slowly lost his as Mand'alor. It only comes out when mad or frustrated. Kal Skirata also has a Concord Dawn accent, but it as not as thick, unlike Jaster's and Jango's. Arla Fett had one, but she lost it due to her time as Death Watch's prisoner. Pre Vizsla had one as well, but Tor 'conditioned' it out of him. Boba Fett has it, but it is softer than Jango's or Jaster's.
Mandalore: Standard Mando'a accent. It only changes when one is in Keldabe or in Sunduri. This is the accent a lot of Mando'ade have.
Sunduri: Sunduri accents mirror High Coruscant accents, with soft flowery words. It is jarring to traditionalists, who are used to the roughness and bluntness that is Mando'a.
Concordia: A bastardization of so many different accents. But similar to Concord Dawn's.
Krowncurst: Very rough. It is often described as being blunt and short to the point. No room for BS.
The clones: Pidgin Mando'a. No describable accent, due to the different trainers they had. The ALPHA-class and the CC clones have an accent that was the closest to a Concord Dawn accent. The Corries lost theirs due to being in Coruscant during the duration of the war.
I HAVE HAD AN EPIPHANY!!!!
because of, you know. the conspiracy theorist phase.
501st as bizarre t shirts
tag yourself im little miss fully developed frontal lobe
perfection
501st as bizarre t shirts
tag yourself im little miss fully developed frontal lobe
@casualfoxwitch mind if i spread the word
No
Sons of feanor as bizarre t shirts
tag yourself im life is dragging me along by the thong
oral fixation alignment chart
. Chaotic. Lawful.
Punk. Apple. Cigarette.
Emo. Bubblegum. Toothpick.
now this is my kind of politics
seems like the fairest way
does anyone wanna hold hands until we feel a little braver
Percy Jackson vs Melkor lets fuckin GOOOOOOOOO
combine your first real fandom with your current one to create a terrible, terrible au
Fuckin pigeons warbling their bastard drunken coo-coo-coo right in my ear at 5am on Sunday in every goddamn season no matter what fucking continent I'm in. Gotta rank them right beside seagulls, slugs and 13 year old boys as my absolute least favourite creatures on God's Admittedly Kind Of Ok Earth.
Me: that "younger man" vibe tho... Me: *is 18 years old* Me:...right well I guess we have that to look FORWARD to in 20 YEARS TIME
clone wars era update
oh boba... they grow up so fast :_) ⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡
The Fetts as bizarre t shirts
you and me both, boba. you and me both