I just finished all the trigun manga in 2 days because of goddamn Bigolas Dickolas and I have So Many Thoughts I am going to die if I don't write them down somewhere.
He made wilbur stay in the viewing platform to witness his suicide and the destruction of what they had made together. He made him philza, the pressure plate the button, to prove a point. To defuse the bomb, wilbur. Holy fucking shit
me: okay time to go to slee-
my brain: in the sign of the four, holmes professes decisively that he will never marry, lest it clouds his judgment, nor will he ever love. in later stories, however, we see him saying things like "should i ever marry" or "should i ever have a son". he seems to have become quietly more open to the possibility of love ever since his relationship with watson flourished because watson makes holmes believe in love
me, crying: fuck you
Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
Poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye
www.hermitagemuseum.org
britishmuseum.org
www.louvre.fr
www.museodelprado.es
collections.vam.ac.uk
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www.khm.at
www.digitalsculpture.org
www.tnm.jp
artsandculture.google.com
collections.lacma.org
collections.rom.on.ca
As the police escalate violence, beat and attack students and professors, and conduct mass arrests, student protesters should know their rights.
Here is the link to the National Lawyer's Guild booklet for protesters.
If you plan on going out to support the protests, please take some time to read through this and know your rights.
A slightly different take on that chicken soup scene in Releves. For @messy-scandinoodle
Hannibal generally isn’t one to argue with himself. He knows his own mind, he knows what he hopes to achieve, and he knows how to either get what he wants or how to adjust any situation so that it is more advantageous to getting what he wants. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he can still at least amused by the process.
Except…
There is now the Will Graham issue to contend with.
Where Will Graham is concerned, Hannibal does find himself second-guessing some of his choices. There are too many choices, or not enough of them. Hannibal wants certain outcomes more than others, and he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with just amusement at the process.
So as he prepares the soup he intends to bring to Will’s bedside table, Hannibal wonders how best to approach a recipe he’s recreated many times.
Should I leave the dates whole, or chop them? Might they infuse the broth with too much sweetness? What if Will doesn’t like dates?
Have you thought of that?
And the star anise…surely Will knows not to eat them. Perhaps you should remove them after they’ve imparted their flavor.
Even on the way to the hospital, with the soup done and packed in its carrying case, Hannibal frets over how best to introduce the meal.
Make it sound artistic and complex. Impress him with the exotic components, like a composer showing off rare instruments.
But what if he sees the truth? What if he sees your true intentions?
He won’t. He’ll be dazzled by the ingredients.
In the hospital room, Will stirs from sleep as soon as Hannibal begins unpacking the meal.
“Smells delicious,” he says, hair tousled and eyes still drowsy.
“Silkie chicken in a broth,” Hannibal explains. He decides on a small history lesson. “A black-boned bird prized in China for its medicinal values since the seventh century. Wolfberries, ginseng, ginger, red dates, and star anise.”
Will’s eyebrows go up. A cartoon light bulb practically goes on over his head.
“You made me chicken soup?”
Hannibal freezes in place. His inability to respond lasts only a split second, but it feels like ages. His mind screams at him.
HE KNOWS. WILL GRAHAM KNOWS WHAT YOU’VE DONE. HE HAS SEEN THROUGH YOUR ARTISTIC RUSE.
Time slows to a crawl, nearly stops entirely.
YOU FOOL. YOU FOOLISH FOOL.
Will’s expression bores into him like a tunneling electron microscope, ferreting out the purest essence of the truth.
HE KNOWS YOU HAVE MADE FOR HIM THE NUMBER ONE ILLNESS REMEDY MADE FOR LOVED ONES SINCE TIME IMMEMORIAL. CHICKEN SOUP! CHICKEN SOUP! WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE, YOU MAKE THEM CHICKEN SOUP!!!!
Hannibal forces himself to remain outwardly calm and waits for time to begin moving again.
“Yes,” he finally says, his tone curt.
CHANGE THE SUBJECT, YOU FOOL.
“The nurses tell me you’ve been wandering, Will,” he says, and hopes the burning he feels inside cannot be seen from the outside.
(end)
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And yet, some will still claim: “The protests are antisemitic!”
y'all ever notice how Hannibal can’t seem to look Will in the eye when he admits “for both of us?” Like, when he says “this is all I ever wanted for you, Will” he looks straight at Will, because this is something that Will already knew, he isn’t admitting anything. But this seems to be the first time that he admits to Will that he wants them to be together, to kill together and do other stuff together, he’s looking down away from Will as if he’s afraid of the reaction he’s going to get.
And then, after that “it’s beautiful,” you see, in those famous Lecter microexpressions, the relief that Will feels the same, and he looks at him with this sort of wonder, his mouth opens, like he can’t quite believe it.
And when Will hugs him, and pulls him close, his eyes close in disbelief that after so long, he’s finally able to do this, before he leans in close to nuzzle Will.