This Is Something He Would Totally Do Though, On The Battlefield Or Not

This is the greatest thing I've ever seen and it made my day

Op’s caption was: Single father supports his sons :)

Honestly... Yeah this makes sense. But he'd probably get tired of me cause I'm chaotic stupid

How can you support this show

Creating content does not imply unequivocal support. But I'll bite. Despite its many sins, particularly with regard to representation (which is not unique among Lucasfilm stories - please read that linked post if you haven't before), I would ask, after viewing the show:

💀 Could you have more compassion for a veteran struggling to transition, recalling the whiplash of a tremendously capable Sergeant suddenly barely being able to feed his family while they live out of their car?

✋🏾 Could you more readily accept that trauma recovery is a fractious, nonlinear path, and "grumpiness" might actually herald the affected regaining sense of self by re-asserting their commitment to justice?

⚡ Could you have more patience with people whose brains work a little differently, appreciating that a blunt and unemotional communication style might not belie callousness, but represent their genuine effort to connect?

💣 Could you create more space to recognize that a scarred and physically intimidating person might also have the greatest capacity for gentleness, kindness, and emotional intelligence?

⌖ Could you offer more grace to people who are difficult to reach, because perhaps a facade of cool, unaffected competence punctuated by a quick temper is a natural reaction to achievement-based acceptance culture and the fear that if we lose control even for a moment, the consequences will be our fault?

None of this changes anything. It doesn't redeem the show's inherent issues; in fact, the good qualities only stoke my frustration because a viewer has to claw through some pretty devastating failures to see them. But that trade-off is not an anomaly in television, media, or frankly in the world. The meaningful themes that make The Bad Batch more than pretty pixels still persist. I'll leave it there.

Every reblog removes one HP from the queen

Art by Boris Groh

Dystopian novels be like “there’s no music but our national anthem and this forbidden rebel song” as if all of earth really let go of ABBA music

I haven't seen dancing pumpkin guy ONCE this year, are you guys okay?

Vader: [opening a desk drawer in Obi-Wan’s old room] Let’s see what this old fool kept in here…[picking up a piece of paper]  Obi-Wan: [in a letter] 

Dear Anakin, 

If you’re reading this, then you must be rifling through my belongings, which means you are either extremely bored (in which case I suggest going and tidying up your quarters, which I don’t need to see to know are a disaster,) or I’ve been missing for an extended amount of time and the Order needs the room to store extra chairs, or I’ve died, possibly while trying to rid the galaxy of General Grievous. If I am in fact dead, I hope this letter finds you well in spite of it, and that you have not gone off the deep end or murdered anyone in an attempt to avenge me. (…unless it’s Grievous, I suppose.)

You will find attached to this letter the receipts for several items in my room, such as the electric tea kettle. I hope you can at least return them for store credit. 

I’ve set up a college savings plan with the Galactic Bank of Coruscant, because I noticed that Senator Amidala is obviously pregnant, and since I am not nearly as dense as you apparently think I am, I presume the child is yours. The account information is in my safe, which I would give you the combination to except that I know you have been breaking into it since you were 14. 

If you do intend to eventually leave the Order, as I suspect you might, please make sure that you give the Council two weeks’ notice. It’s only polite, and you never know when you may need to use them as a reference. Even though I know you clash with them, they do care about you.

Finally, please make sure Duchess Satine’s nephew gets the inheritance I’ve left him (the information is also in my safe, and no, I’m not going to tell you any more details about this. I realize how much this is going to torment you, and I’d be lying if I said that’s not bringing a smile to my face.) 

Your blanket is in the hamper. Wash it on the gentle cycle. The password for the wi-fi, in case you’ve forgotten, is BuyYourOwnDataPlanAnakin.

Be well, my Padawan, and I shall see you again someday – hopefully many years from now – when you, too, rejoin the Force. Don’t forget to change the payment settings for Netflix now that I’m dead or you’ll fall behind on your programs. 

Yours,  Obi-Wan Kenobi  PS: Don’t let Vos speak at my funeral.