#and twiggy was like ‘’bet’’

[revvethasmythh]

The Mighty Nein are so funny because Matt’s just there like, “Lorenzo was supposed to get away. You were not supposed to keep the Happy Fun Ball. You were NOT meat to go to Xhorhas. Trent was supposed to escape—” Mighty Nein just steamrolling their way through their own campaign. They do what they want. The DM’s long-term plans have no authority over this party

[tropical-lazor-beams]

homestar/strong bad: popularly enjoyed homsar/strong sad: also well enjoyed homeschool/strong mad: ?????

[mabelstone]

hello babie

little angst fic in light of the new matt pics? gruffy stubborn horknee matt? a little christmas miracle?

love u miss u

hi sugarpie miss u more

hope this suffices <3 i couldn't think of a 'christmas miracle' i am sorry xx maybe i'll write a soft christmas fic after this

18+ ofc, you know me by now

Nobody Compares to You

matt stone x reader

word count: 2.1k

***

Being with a prolific near-billionaire with a ridiculously successful TV show and a close-to cult following has its downsides. The copious amounts of groupies, stalkers, etc, etc. Not to mention that he's the textbook definition of a workaholic, which often meant you would go days without seeing each other due to your conflicting work schedules, despite sharing the same bed each night.

You knew this going into your relationship with him and you swore you wouldn't have it any other way.

That was until you found out about the new hire at South Park Studios. A painfully beautiful, bubbly young woman around your age, funny and oh, so intelligent. To your dismay, everyone in the studio had grown very fond of her, including your beloved boyfriend. The part he failed to mention was that she was now his personal assistant, hence why she would text him at inappropriate hours and was practically glued to him each time you visited him at work on one of your days off.

You could look past the groupies and die hard fans as you knew they wouldn't ever stand a chance. But a young woman so full of life, someone who made Matt cackle the way only you and his friends could unearthed something deep inside you. An unmistakable hatred for this girl, though she hadn't done anything wrong, per se. This created a rift in your relationship with him, and though you wanted to blame her, it was painfully clear that it was your doing.

One day you'd surprised him with lunch, taking in a container of his absolute favourite meal that you'd slaved over all morning.

"Oh, thank you, gorgeous," he'd kissed you tenderly, though his words to follow suggested he wouldn't be eating it any time soon. "I wish you'd called... Belle and I just got Chinese, I'm stuffed."

Your smile faltered, peering over at the twiggy blonde tapping away at her laptop with her long, neon orange nails. "I wanted to surprise you. My mistake."

Belle looked up intermittently with an unreadable expression, "yeah, so sorry. What was your name, again?"

"Y/N," you shot her a fake smile that was about as friendly as a kick to the jaw. He mustn't talk about me often. "Ah," was all you could muster, a pang of disappointment flooding your veins.

"I'm sorry," he frowned lightly, a gentle hand taking yours. "I'll have it for dinner! You know me so well."

"So you'll be staying late again?"

"At this rate, it's a safe bet," he smiled sympathetically. He looked tired, no surprise. You sometimes selfishly wished that he'd get a bad cold or something so he'd be forced to stay home with you. "I'm really sorry."

"Meeting in five, Matt," Belle spoke up, her tone a lot friendlier than it was with you.

"I'll get out of your hair then." You didn't say bye, instead speed walked to your car, fuelled by your rage toward his assistant.

Matt: Not even going to say goodbye to me?

Matt: This isn't my fault

You: i just didn't know you were having lunch dates with your assistant

You cursed yourself straight after your message sent, realising just how ridiculous you sounded. Like a jealous teenage girl.

Matt: Lunch date? You mean having lunch with your coworker is now considered a date?

You: does she even know you have a girlfriend?

Matt: Do I really have to share my personal life with my assistant? She does, yes. What has gotten into you?

You: she gets to spend every minute of every day with you

Matt: So this is about her? Don't be so jealous, this is a work relationship.

Matt: Gotta go.

Your eyes blurred with tears as you drove home in silence, your jaw ticking in frustration. You couldn't help but wonder if you were in the wrong. Surely he would have had to pick her as his assistant, right? Why couldn't he have picked a man. Or, as awful as it sounds, a girl who wasn't so attractive. Or maybe a girl who wouldn't have graduated the same year as you.

He got home at 11pm, a bit earlier than you had anticipated. You couldn't sleep though, your mind running wild at the possibilities. With all the time spent with her and away from you, would he fall for her? Would he stop loving you? Was she planning to whisk him away from you? Was your little argument today just pushing him further into her arms?

He walked into your bedroom and didn't say a word. He walked straight into the ensuite and locked the door before you had a chance to speak, closing your mouth immediately.

When he came out, he looked visibly more relaxed, newly grown out curls dripping beads of water onto his skin. He sat in front of you on the bed, only a towel keeping him decent.

"Care to tell me what that was earlier?" His voice was stern, eyebrows slightly raised.

"You tell me," you tone was unwavering as well, arms folded across your chest.

"I wish I could," he huffed, the frustration clearly creeping back. "I can see that you're jealous. But I think theres a bit more to it, isn't there?"

"I miss you."

"Of course I miss you too. But I have to go to work. I can't control the hours!" He raised his voice slightly. Maybe there was more to this for him, too.

"We haven't had sex in two weeks, Matt," you sighed, looking toward the ceiling as that awful, sad feeling reared its ugly head again. "You used to want it- need it, every second day, at least."

"We haven't had time!" He sighed now, running a hand over his face. "I've had to... deal with it myself."

"Does your assistant have to be there for that too? Does she add it into your calendar?" You bit, meeting his eyeline again, that now had narrowed on you, angry brows knotted together.

"You are a brat, you know that?" He spat, appearing as if he were about to double over in anger.

"I'm a brat, huh?" You laughed humourlessly, shaking your head at him. "I spent all morning cooking for you. Every day I do all the cleaning after I've been working all day. I iron your clothes for the next day and have them ready for you every night before I even think to do anything for myself. Before I even have dinner!"

He just stared back, not interjecting for a change. His expression softened as he let you get it all out.

"I have done that for you for four years now! Four years! But I'm a brat, huh? All because I miss you and yes, I'm upset that you have a pretty new assistant. I'm upset that she spends all day with you, gets to have lunch and sometimes dinner with you. She gets to eat and laugh with you, all the while I come home to our house alone. I go to sleep alone and wake up alone. Do you know the things I would do to have lunch with you just once a week? The fact that I'm even explaining myself is ridiculous, I-"

Your rambling was cut short but warm lips pressing gently against yours. Your hands instantly found damp curls, fighting the urge to cry at the fact he was finally at your fingertips, and not when he was snoring beside you in the small hours. He was finally there, finally, you had his undivided attention.

His fingers quickly hooked into your panties, pulling them off in one autonomous motion. He wasted no time disconnecting your lips, positioning himself between your thighs. His warm tongue flitting over your clit sent a shockwave of electricity through your body, a sharp gasp from your lips piercing the overwhelming tension in the room. You grabbed a fistful of his hair without a second thought, grinding down onto that beautiful face. The coarseness of his beard scratched your inner thighs, sending a chill down your spine. With your eyes screwed shut, you moaned his name just as you had imagined for nights on end, his own groan vibrating against your core. You opened your eyes when you thought he'd pulled out your vibrator, soon realised it was just his phone buzzing somewhere on the bed spread. He didn't slow his motions, continuing to lick dizzying stripes across your clit. You felt around for his phone, wishing you hadn't when you saw her caller ID on the screen.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Mm, what?" His voice was muffled against you, only pulling away when you pulled your hips away. "Oh, come on. I can't control when she calls me, babe. It's probably something really important."

You realised you weren't angry at him, but absolutely livid with her. You just had a gut feeling about her. You knew girls like her, you could tell from he minute you laid eyes on here. She just wanted to climb the hierarchal ladder that was your beloved boyfriend. Unfortunately he was going to have to figure that out on his own. You couldn't help but give him the cold shoulder that night.

***

Things had slightly improved between the two of you. You'd been intimate more frequently, things often getting so steamy that one time he'd bent you over the kitchen counter, resulting in very burnt chicken for dinner.

For the sake of your own sanity, you'd stopped torturing yourself with your imagination over his beautiful assistant. He loved you, he was as faithful as they come.

Matt: I'll be home in 30 xx

He'd messaged you that two hours ago. You were worried you'd have to start calling police stations, but he finally responded to your missed calls with another text.

Matt: Long story. Talk soon.

He returned home an hour later, the door slamming behind him. You startled from where you sitting on the couch, having stress drank through half a bottle of red wine at this stage. He scooped you up from your position on the couch, eliciting a loud squeal of surprise from you, followed by the thunk of your wine glass hitting the carpet, effectively painting the rug crimson.

"Don't worry about it," he breathed against your skin. "Missed you," he trailed kisses along your jaw and neck, your breath hitching when he would hit your sweet spots.

"Mm- what happened at work? Where were you?" You grabbed his jaw in an attempt to slow him to no avail. He continued to carry you to the bedroom, physically in front of you, but mentally somewhere deep between your thighs.

"Don't worry about it," he echoed, placing you down onto the bed. You felt a little worried - he only got like this if something really stressful happened. He was usually great at talking about his feelings, especially when something happened at work.

He continued to kiss down your body, trying to strip your clothes with such haste you could barely keep up.

"Babe- stop. Stop." You huffed, finally getting a grip on his tireless wrists. "What happened? Were you with her?"

Then he came back into his body, eyes narrowing on yours. "We're seriously still on this?" He groaned, sitting back on his knees. "I fired her."

"Fired her?!" You couldn't hide the surprise in your tone, but masked the happiness very well. "Why? I thought she was a hoot, no?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," he sighed. Catching your expression, he realised you weren't going to let up until you had the full story. "Jesus- okay, she tried to make a move on me. Happy? You were right." He rolled his eyes.

Now you were beaming. You thought you'd be more upset, but his obvious disgust debunked that thought immediately. "Say that last part again."

"You were right," he rolled his eyes again, playfully this time. "Now take off your clothes."

"Yes, sir!" You laughed too, stripping off your clothes so fast, you'd miss it if you blinked. Immediately, he was on top of you, a growing hard on pressing into your thigh.

"Nobody compares to you," he mumbled against your lips, stripping his boxers without taking his eyes off you, drinking you in. "Nobody."

His words warmed you to your core, words you didn't know you needed to hear. Despite the intensity leading up to this moment, he slid himself in slowly, stretching and filling you inch by glorious inch. You arched your back into the feeling, bare chests rubbing against one another.

"I love you," you breathed, grinding gently into him, both of your hips connecting in slow synchronicity. His warm arms surrounding you, pulling you impossibly closer.

"I love you," he kissed you slowly, "so, so much."

You felt more connected than you had in weeks, months, even. And in that moment, you too though, nobody compares to you.

you know me by now. no proof reading sozzy and this ending sucks balls... but its dry out here

[prism-empurress]

chat do we think siffrin has a hip dip be honest

In my head, Siffrin is a scrawny, twiggy thing. BUT WHO KNOWS WHAT HE'S HIDING UNDER THAT CLOAK. It's possible! I think that'd be cute tbh.

Idk! If I ever do a full body, cloakless drawing of him, I might draw them with hip dips! I could use the practice after all.

AIN'T NOTHIN' WRONG WITH HIP DIPS, MEANS THERE'S MORE TO LOVE!!! XD

Siffrin probably avoids skinny jeans or pants that might show hip dips?? I could be mistaken. Ok I looked at his clothing ref underneath his cloak, the pants are just labelled as pants. So...that might hold up! Also, when he bumps into that one counter...that could totally be because of having hip dips. Siffrin is probably super embarrassed to have them to begin with, but I bet if he saw more people with them, he'd be like "oh, having hip dips is okay actually". Or it could be a body dysphoria issue. I think Siffrin with hip dips would be super cute! Thank you for your question :3

[brandyschillace]

It’s 3:30pm, and I’m having a coffee break. So how about some story time regarding one of the most embarrassing moments of my young life… which was revelatory about my character overall, if not exactly formative. it begins on a school bus. The afternoon school bus taking me, 7th grader, home.

Now, the high school and junior high were near one another, and took in students from the wide rural area surrounding. that means junior high kids rode the bus with high school kids. This is important for the story. I should also mention that my friend Tanya was also on this bus. And she had an idea.

The captain of the football team, junior, lived near her house. She had been watching him all her young life, and had developed a very serious pining crush. Now, three or four years, doesn’t make much difference to adults, but to said high school junior, she was a little kid. Hopes dashed. And yet:

When you are 13, hope springs eternal. Beyond that, there is a delicious almost tangible high that comes from being proximately near the beloved. An acknowledgement is heaven. What might help the strapping lad see and acknowledge young Tanya? Because obviously that is all that true love requires… Her brilliant plan: when her crush walks to the front of the bus for his stop, I should ‘accidentally’ bump into him, causing him to fall/sit into Tanya’s seat. (And acknowledge her in some love misted way that apparently worked in the movies she’s seen.) simple. Would I be a friend and so do?

I am also 13. I am not interested in boys. I am not at all sure about this plan. But Tanya knows my weakness. In the hallowed foyer of our school was a magical machine—a VENDING machine. It was new. It was the first one I’d ever seen. (Did I mention it was rural?) And the machine sold brownies. —Fudge-y, terrible, iced brownies with nuts, and I freaking LOVED them, but rarely had a spare 50 cents. Tanya pulls one of these bad boys out of her bag. NOW would I shove the football crush into her seat?

Oh yeah. You bet.

And here is where I begin to learn a thing about me:

1. Will work for food

2. When I commit… I COMMIT. Time is wasting, and bus slows. Here he comes from the back, jansport tossed over one shoulder, books in hand. My moment has come. I’d moved to the opposite seat along the aisle. Tanya gives me a sage nod. DO IT. Hee crush enters optimal shove zone. And I go for it.

Problem. Her crush is a junior. AND captain of the football team. There is no slight bump from a twiggy 13 year old strong enough to be noticed much less effective. The mission should have failed and I should have mumbled an apology.

BUT I DO NOT.

BECAUSE I AIN’T NO QUITTER.

So… Honestly, some of this is sort of a blank. At some point, it seemed using my entire body like a line backer would be the better option. Maybe I was influenced by his football jersey. The rest is like movie scene where all the drama / action suddenly stops and you get a freeze frame in total silence.

When I ‘come to’ as it were… I’m on the floor of the aisle. Sort of. I am straddling a man’s leg and sitting on his foot. I have been shoving (or sort of clawing at?) his rather broad torso. I *may* have been saying SIT! But I hope just in my head, as it’s weird enough. And the boy looks TERRIFIED.

The bus has stopped. Kids are staring. The driver is staring. I can mainly see upward, so take in the full view of a junior footballer holding his bag and books over his head as though I’m a rabid dog. And I can see Tanya. She has gone seven shades of WTF and is trying to disappear into her purse.

Now, there are only so many ways you can extricate yourself from a situation like this one. (Note: it is still totally silent). I scramble backward into the nearest seat, which — yes— means unwrapping myself from his leg. And then I look him full in the eye and say: “oh, excuse me” just as planned.

He says *nothing*. Just very quickly gets off the bus. Now I’m sitting next to Tanya, and the full force of what I just did washes over me so hard that I still feel it. Tanya, now squeezed so low in her seat as to be near invisible: ‘what the hell was THAT?’ I don’t know, so I say ‘you told me to!’

She very much did not tell me to squid attack a footballer. But in principle…

She tells me she will never be able to face him again. I don’t know why, I’m the one he’ll have nightmares about. Some threats about never being my friend again ensue, but ultimately end in exasperation. But—BUT:

I did a days work, dammit, I want a days wage. “You still want the stupid brownie??”

The look of surprise mixed with confusion and maybe disgust doesn’t phase me as it ought; she hands over the prize and then gets off the bus. I’m subjected to sniggering. I’m blushing.

But I ATE my brownie.

… I think there are life lessons. At least one is that I am WAY autistic. But hey. I commit. I mean, I WILL do the thing.

[dani-the-goblin]

Bold the Facts: Twiggy ♥

tagged by @cloudofbutterflies92

tagging @medtech-mara @fly-amanitaa @streetkid-named-desire & @shimmer-like-agirl ...for now, since I'm doing this at least three times ;)

This is accurate up to and including Yeehaw Chucklefuck. A spoiler version for future stories is below the cut, with additions italicized. That is also only accurate to what I have planned as of right now. Things could change.

Killed Someone Under Orders | Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defense | Spared Someone's Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It I Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome | Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid | Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them| Eaten An Insect | Been Groped By A Stranger | Been Groped By Someone They Know | Been Dumped/Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High | Flirted With Someone To Get Free Drinks | Put Someone In A Headlock | Won a Bet | Lost a Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Has A Noticeable Physical Defect | Gotten A Noticeable Scar | Been Permanently Disfigured Through Injury | Kneed Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush| Laughed Themselves To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Sexually Assaulted | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotized | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor's Guilt | Been Tied/Chained Up | Given Someone A Massage| Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone's Life | Cheated On Someone | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship(..kinda) | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone's Trust | Broken Someone's Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing | Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name | Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured/Tortured Others | Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love | Suffered From Sleep Paralysis | Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language*he has tried| Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/ Uncle|

♥ Spoiler Version ♥

Killed Someone Under Orders | Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defense | Spared Someone's Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It I Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome | Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid | Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them| Eaten An Insect | Been Groped By A Stranger | Been Groped By Someone They Know | Been Dumped/Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High | Flirted With Someone To Get Free Drinks | Put Someone In A Headlock | Won a Bet | Lost a Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Has A Noticeable Physical Defect | Gotten A Noticeable Scar | Been Permanently Disfigured Through Injury | Kneed Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush| Laughed Themselves To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Sexually Assaulted | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotized | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor's Guilt | Been Tied/Chained Up | Given Someone A Massage| Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone's Life | Cheated On Someone | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone's Trust | Broken Someone's Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing | Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name | Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured/Tortured Others | Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love | Suffered From Sleep Paralysis | Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language*he has tried| Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/ Uncle|

[lucysarah-c]

It may not make it to the final cut of Erwin's spin off in Holy Ground. Yet, I love how dark humoured Twiggy and Erwin are when they are left alone:

"Of course, if I were to die and become a restless pacing ghost, I would haunt people, bother those that I knew, ruin lives. After all, what else is there for me to lose because of it? Nothing; I'm already a peaceless dead," she argued.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "You could lend me a hand, make my life easier."

Quickly, she frowned, clear from her side profile, as the teacup was raised to her lips. "If you want some divine protection, go to a church."

"What makes you believe that God would give me, in particular, his protection?"

Her loud scoff was followed by a soft laugh. "You're an upper-middle-class, tall, blonde, white man. God's agenda is full of giving men like you his protection," she said. "I dare to bet that if you were to run back into religion, God would quickly kick out some poor little street orphan kid and put your name right into the priority list."

It made me smile, how grotesquely acidic her humor was. "Look at you, more religious than I believed. If you believe, why don't you think God is protecting you?"

She chuckled once more. "I acknowledge God's existence... not that they were on my side."

Erwin's pov must be the funniest I have written after Thomas concepts somehow.

[vertonghen]

ben davies dream girl here again! no new dreams but I wanted to ask if you could share your fav ben moments :3

hiii ben davies dream girl, thank u for asking!!! i’ve got so many so this will be long, @erik-lamela helped me out with so many of them 🫶🏽

(links are all hyperlinks!)

i feel like there’s been such an influx of davieson all over twitter and tumblr recently, these are three of my recent fav posts of theirs:

x x x

the welsh (korean) mafia in general is just so dear to me, i love all of them so much but ben and joey’s relationship killsss me they’re so funny. this gifset of them messing around is so cute

somewhat related, ben speaking welsh & why it’s so important to him

also ben speaking in near perfect korean??? i shouldn’t be surprised because it’s ben but wow

EMILY. his wife is just as wonderful as he is and they are both so loving and sweet i love them so much. during covid he and emily were caring for one of their elderly neighbours during the lockdown

ben helping out this local bakery during covid to serve front line health workers 🥲🫶🏽

also ben with their dog (twiggy) is just too cute

and one that’s veeery important imo is ben having such an impact in the dressing room…i feel like some fans might not realize how important he is to the club so it’s nice to see it written out

some random videos that he’s in that i love are this embarrassing tweets one (might be biased because dele and chris are in it and i love them very much also), the quiplash video (i always come back to this one it’s sooo funny), and this ben and joey pals video (their bickering makes me laugh)

he’s so amazing and this post doesn’t even cover a fraction of his wonderfullness, but i hope you like it!!! i’m definitely a huge ben davies lover, but if you want to follow or look thru the tags of even bigger ben davies lovers then @jamesmaddisons @erik-lamela @heung-mins are your best bets 🫶🏽

[pompeiisystem]

Friend: "I like em thick!"

Me: "bet."

Friend: *proceeds to show me a scantily clad woman with her ribs, hip ones, and clavicle showing*

Me: "...Dawg..."

So anyways I had this long ass discussion about how fatphobia and modern expectations of beauty make people brainwashed to think a body like 2015 Nikki Minaj is the 'thick'/'chubby' body type

That that's the acceptable fat/lean ratio to find attractive

I WANT ROLLS

I WANT FAT

I WANT TO BURY MY HANDS IN THEIR SIDES AND DIG MY FINGERS INTO PLUSH FLESH

FAT IS SEXY

FAT IS HEALTHY!! ITS HEALTHIER TO BE OVERWEIGHT THAN UNDERWEIGHT!!

And *NO* I'm not shaming thin people! I love my cute twiggy fellows that I can manhandle and give piggy back rides to!!

I'm specifically shaming people who allow themselves, or push others, to follow or believe in modern beauty norms!!!

Yes, you may be 100 pounds but you're gorgeous! I'm giving you all sorts of affection and flowers!

Same with my bigger peeps!

Yeah, you're 300 pounds, but you're so fucking warm and soft and I know you get a lot of shit for being thick, but FUCK THEM.

I cast Fire Ants in the Urethra upon them/gen

Nobody should police what is beautiful because beauty is in every fucking single thing, person, plant, animal, atom, etc!!!

Big nose? Hot

Far set eyes? Cute

Thin lips? Sending you smooches rn

BEAUTY IS NOT ONLY IN THE EYES OF THE BEHOLDER, IT IS IN THE *HEART* OF THE BEHOLDER!!! YOU DONT NEED EYES TO ACKNOWLEDGE BEAUTY!!!

Im so dead serious when I say that if you cannot find a single beautiful thing in life, and the reason is not depression, the fault lies within you, nobody else.

Literally every day I make it a mission to fight the sad, nihilistic thoughts by pointing out and complementing people and things. (Yes you can compliment the sky and thank them for the pretty clouds today, or the grass for being that specific shade of green)

See anything you like in a person at the store? Go out of your way to compliment them on it!

Never a day goes by where I don't walk outside and pet my farm animals or domestic pets or feel appreciative of how the natural world works and how it affects me positively.

You're never too old, too tired, too sick, too sad, too anything to appreciate beauty in whatever form you'd prefer. Just don't let Taylor Swift, Channing Tatum, or Megan The Stallion be your Adonis, alright?

Those people are literally denied jobs and tours of they don't keep a certain weight, muscle mass, or physical 'attractiveness' up to the standards of media.

You shouldn't hold yourself to those stands because they're ridiculous!!

Be fat! Be skinny! Be hairy! Wear those round glasses! Don't wear concealer! Don't conform to someones standards who never cared about you in the first place!!

Be you, whatever that is!

I guarantee you are 1,000,000 more confident once you get used to living in your own skin, not the designer shit they try to sell!

-written by a fat, trans masc with crooked teeth and a happy heart

[ellieellieoxenfree]

52 weeks, 52 movies: april

yeah whatever i finally got around to it rewatches denoted with *; bold denotes favorites watched.

straight-jacket (usa) — after a gay scandal potentially threatens to end movie star guy stone’s (matt letscher) career, he’s forced to marry an unaware secretary (carrie preston) to keep up appearances, which becomes considerably more difficult after he falls in love for real.

it PAINS me to give this movie a bad review. it really, really does. it has all the ingredients i should like — matt letscher, carrie preston, homosexuality, mid-century american satire — and yet it has all the life and wit of a damp paper towel. letscher appears pained to be in the thing, not so much sleepwalking through the role but actively grimacing through it. carrie preston is usually reliable, but you can see too much of the glue holding her performance together and what should be frothy and campy just comes off as almost embarrassingly try-hard. the chemistry between letscher and adam greer, who plays his communist boyfriend, rick stone, is…well, nonexistent. greer is trying, again, but one person cannot carry a two-person relationship, and stone really isn’t so much of a character as he is a stereotypical hodgepodge of liberal talking points.

straight-jacket was a play first, which shows up in glaringly obvious and detrimental ways — it’s blocked like a play, with stagey sets and shoddy CGI standing in for actual era-appropriate sets. the whole thing feels claustrophobic and limited, and there’s no immersion into the 1950s because the set design only takes us about a quarter of the way there. combining the clumsy, amateurish visuals with characters who spout viewpoints decades ahead of what they should be makes for a jarring experience. (rick, again, is the poster child for this, and i doubt anyone could have salvaged the character.)

it also just doesn’t know what it wants to be tonally. it starts out as fluffy camp, then takes a hard left (ha!) turn into serious social commentary and a shoehorned plea for tolerance and acceptance. rest assured, it does none of these things well, and its preachiness manages to drown out whatever scraps of fun could have potentially been gleaned from the comedy. the dialogue aims for pointed zingers and is instead defanged and limp; the pathos just is creaky and gloopily sentimental. i struggled mightily to figure out who this movie could have been for, and what kind of story it was trying to tell, because i don’t think at any point anyone involved in the production knew, either. it kept trying to take flight, but it’s hard to do that when every level of your story is dead on arrival.

pygmalion (1981) (uk) — linguistics professor henry higgins (robert powell) makes a bet that in six weeks, he can pass eliza doolittle (twiggy), a cockney flower girl, off as a duchess in high society.

the 1938 pygmalion is one of my favorite movies of all time — hiller and howard are lightning in a bottle, and the movie sparkles and crackles and shimmers. this was poised to do the same, because robert powell and twiggy are near and dear to my heart and i would watch both of them read the phone book. (yes, i stand by this. have you seen twiggy in the boy friend? delightful. i adore her.) and i did enjoy it, truly! but not quite as much as i thought i would, which was no fault of either lead. instead, it’s damned slightly by being a faithful adaptation of the stage play, and thus it robs us of some of the more emotionally satisfying scenes contained in other versions. twiggy suffers the short end of the stick here most; she’s a fantastic eliza, but we just don’t see enough of her. when she does get to shine, she utterly nails the role. she starts as a live wire of a girl, chaos and noise, but she transforms into composed steel and ice as she undergoes higgins’ tutelage and begins to realize the magnitude of how he’s used her and how disposable he sees her. i was particularly disappointed that her trumph at the society ball is entirely erased from this version, because it robs us of the power of seeing how effective her transformation has been, but she still takes the limited material she’s given — her confrontation with higgins, which is one of the finest moments in any adaptation — and renders it with quiet, chilling devastation. this eliza is not the hysterical woman-child higgins drags off the streets; this is a woman fully in control of her power and destiny and wise enough to know to keep her anger on a controlled simmer. i loved her restraint here. she doesn’t raise her voice or lash out in anger, but delivers her lines with precise, pointed viciousness.

likewise, when she’s fled the higgins household to stay with his much more agreeable, pleasant mother (helen shingler), she knocks it out of the park. this, unlike straight-jacket, understood the importance of adhering to social norms. eliza here feels like a proper edwardian lady, who understands the roles and limitations placed on her, and she carries herself with a quiet grace and dignity that fully centered the production in its historical context in a way i hadn’t seen to such effect before (even in 1938!).

powell, of course, is magnificent, and he relishes the chance to play higgins. higgins is one of the great roles to me, conniving, brilliant, thoughtless, condescending, full of swagger and bravado. he is an awful man but a great character, and powell inhabits him fully. when he and twiggy spark off one another, they’re delightful together. unfortunately, we just don’t get the chance to see them do it often enough. many of the major bones of the story are intact — the ‘gin was like mother’s milk to her’ line is as screechingly funny as always; the aforementioned post-society ball confrontation twists the knife. but we don’t see much of the actual training and eliza’s struggles to learn; we see higgins and his colleague, pickering (ronald fraser) celebrate their success at the ball, but eliza’s actual achievements remain frustratingly off-screen. it feels very appropriate to shaw to give us an adaptation about a woman coming into her full power and still sideline her in favor of giving us more from the men.

still, frustrating flaws aside, this is a real treat to watch for me — two of my favorite stars in one of my favorite plays. it won’t dethrone the 1938 masterpiece, but still glad i was able to get my hands on it. thanks, random amazon seller in the UK. you’re a real one. cadejo blanco (guatemala) — after her sister goes missing, working-class sarita (karen martínez) infiltrates a gang to figure out what happened to her.

there is a scene late in this movie where a young gangster — much like other members of the gang, most likely in his mid-20s at best — tells the protagonist about a criminal he knew growing up. the man stole vehicles, caused chaos, and terrorized the neighborhood, until the day he was found shot in the middle of the street. his death was unmourned; the cops did nothing to apprehend the shooter. the neighborhood, instead, greeted the news with a profound sense of relief.

that, the gangster tells her, is the fate that he knows waits for him. there is no one who will grieve his own early demise. he has no purpose in life other than to fight for an uncaring boss who will just find another warm body to replace him if and when he’s killed. it is an utterly crushing, tremendously powerful scene. he’s a gangster but he’s also just a boy. he’s too young and gangly to be considered a man yet. he’s still figuring himself and his life out, and he’s horribly aware of his own fragile mortality and the limited amount of time he has left.

and the rest of the movie is a miserable, dragging, tonally inconsistent slog around it. it is over two hours long, for some godforsaken reason, anchored by — i’m sorry, but it’s true — a flat, emotionless lead performance from karen martínez. martínez is admittedly a non-professional actor, so asking her to shoulder basically the entire movie is a tall ask, but she’s not up to the challenge. she has some great moments, such as when she corners the rich boy who keeps her around as a side piece and tells him that he’s going to cover for her while she heads off on her quest to find her sister, or she’ll spill all of his dirty sex secrets to his upper-class friends, but she doesn’t convey the emotional range needed for someone who’s heading into almost-certain death. and sarita faces some truly horrific stuff as her gang infiltration progresses, none of which ever quite lands. not all of this is martínez’ fault, because much of it does lie with the writing/direction/editing/cinematography. there’s not really a sense of urgency or dread that ever comes through. things happen, but that’s…it. i say this with the same tone i would use to say that breakfast happened for me this morning. it was a thing that occurred, without emotion or energy. the plot unfolds, but i never quite felt anything about it. sarita’s sister going missing should fill me with something. the violence (of many stripes) she faces should rouse horror or pity or anger in me. it doesn’t. it’s there. it exists. it just sort of…is.

it’s just boring, is the cardinal sin, which is insane considering the subject matter of the movie. but i kept hovering my mouse over the progress bar and asking how in god’s name i still had another 45 minutes to go. remember when you were in elementary school and each minute felt like it lasted twelve days? that was me with this movie. utter drudgery.

but hey, guatemalan spanish is beautiful, so that’s balm in gilead.

the lady assassin (vietnam) — a kidnapped upper-class girl joins forces with a trio of female assassins masquerading as tavern owners to take revenge on visitors.

this movie might be the dictionary definition of ‘i didn’t say it was good, i said i liked it.’ i cannot in any way defend it as a good production — the plot is nonsensical, with more than a few heavy dollops of fanservice; the fight choreography should credit the wires used as an extra cast member; the characters aren’t exactly rife with personality or understandable motivations beyond ‘kill everyone.’ and yet i fucking loved this movie. fucking adored it. it’s ridiculous, it’s idiotic, and it is a fucking blast. it has no pretensions about what it is, which is 75 minutes of beautiful girls in color-coded fancy dresses killing people, having vaguely homoerotic encounters, and playing hands-free beach volleyball (because why not). it has a melodramatic subplot that is best left discovered by the viewer, but it, like everything else in the movie, is dialed up past 11. it’s deliciously campy, but also, if you let yourself get swept away by the nonsense, it’s also oddly sweet and affecting.

information on the movie is limited. it plays like a wuxia satire, really leaning into the overeating and the extremely dramatic moments, but i don’t know if that was the intention behind it. i know it was a box office smash in vietnam, but is almost unheard of in the west (i ordered my copy from a specialty distributor in the UK for a song), and the few people who have seen it seem more critical than anything else.

these people are stupid and wrong and have no joy in their hearts. i’m an expert and i can thus tell you that this movie, if you open your heart to it and let it take up idiotic residence, will change your life for the better. i’m not really sure what to tell people to sell them on it. either you like hot girls with swords or you don’t. either you like fun or you don’t. either you understand that a movie does not have have legitimate artistic quality to be good, or you’re a buffoon. watch the lady assassin. it’s a good time.

other viewing

stomp! shout! scream! (usa)

mean mums s2 (new zealand)

song of summer (uk)

working girls (usa)

the thirty-nine steps (uk)

the prince and the pauper (1937) (usa)

yes, madam! (hong kong)

tattoo (iran)

who framed roger rabbit (usa)

beverly of graustark (usa)

pride (2014) (uk)

quiet on set: breaking the silence (usa)

super mario bros: the search for princess peach! (japan)

rikky and pete (australia)

naz & maalik (usa)

in person (1935) (usa)

spirit of wonder: miss china’s ring (japan)

weird: the al yankovic story (usa)

lights in the dusk (finland)

sordid lives (usa)

adorables (belgium)

the wind phone (japan)

cartoon all-stars to the rescue (usa)

evil bong (usa)

super troopers* (usa)

utama (bolivia)

dredd (usa)

wings (1966) (russia)

while the city sleeps (usa)

h is for happiness (australia)

dillinger (usa)

dune (1984) (usa)

trópico (guatemala)

breath (2018) (australia)

the divine order (switzerland)

[wreywrites]

Happy WIP Wednesday!

(It's still Wednesday at my house!!!!)

In honor of the occasion and me being in total panic mode over next week being the END (and I'm betting it'll be a doozy), have this fun little snippet of TBB + Omega + Order 66 survivor who they worked with exactly once during the Clone Wars.

Haven't worked out where the AU starts/how hard to AU, so I'm waiting for next week to see what all to change.

But Tech will still be alive, so there's that.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Remember that night at 79’s?”

Zara nodded, a soft little smile settling on her face. “You told me I was the prettiest girl you’d seen on seven systems.”

And that was totally sober. Now, with half a bottle of whatever this was in his system, he leaned forward. “You’re still the prettiest girl. And I’ve been to a lot of systems.” Tomorrow he would hate himself for that, but tonight… Well, maybe tonight Fives’s ghost was hanging an arm around his shoulder and laughing too. She’s so pretty, Echo, ’n’ someone’s gotta tell her, or how’ll she know? Except Echo was quite sure Ridge told her exactly that, and often, but there was no arguing with a drunk Fives.

Her nose crinkled as she laughed. “Thanks Echo. You’re still pretty cute yourself. But,” her expression fell and she stared over his shoulder and through the wall behind him, “you look an awful lot like someone who shot me.”

“Damn these genetics.”

She laughed again, her mood as changing as the tide. “Sorry, pal. Not like the Purge was your fault.”

They lapsed into silence and kept on drinking.

They were still drinking when Tech walked by and climbed up to the cockpit and Crosshair climbed down and stalked by going the other way.

Zara raised her bottle in his direction. “Here’s lookin’ at you, twiggy.”

“Kriff you, personally.”

“Oh, I am not drunk enough for that. But I’m honored you thought of me.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and left without further comment.

Echo waited a good long while, and for Zara to drink a fair bit more, before he asked, “So… you two…?

She took another swig, looking philosophical. Then, “Have you ever felt his hair?”

Echo blinked. “What?”

“It’s very soft. Shockingly soft.”

“What?”

She finally looked at him, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, just like the one she had right before she pulled Fives up on the bar at 79’s. “That’s why he’s mad. Back on Etnex—the GAR sent us the Bad Batch because Ky and I couldn’t get it done fast enough for them. So they showed up, and he showed off, and then he took that damn helmet off…” Zara smiled and shook her head. “I actually interrupted a strategy meeting to make Ky go look at his hair. Then at supper I, uh, tripped on my way by their table and landed on him. And he’s not stupid, so he knew what I was doing. His hair is incredibly soft.”

Echo snorted, almost relieved by this turn of events. “Here I thought you two had some horrible betrayal of one-night stand etiquette in your past or something.”

She laughed. “You really thought I had a hit and run in my unofficial GAR file?”

Echo buried his head in his hands, laughing with her. "That's not what we called it, but... yeah."

[ink-and-dagger]

Okay but here's the thing ...

Did Silco ever been inspired by Astrid's antics , and decided to prank her ? Like the sexy snake he is, it surely wouldn't look like an ordinary " prank" , but I bet this old man is trying , okay ?

I am right, or does he still have this massive broomstick stuck in his twiggy ass ?

I’ve spent days trying to think of a good prank Silco might play and my mind is drawing a blank 😭

Not to say he wouldn’t! I think he definitely would if the opportunity arose.

Whatever it was, it would be clever and calculated, and specifically designed to teach her a lesson. He’d also be a smug bastard about pulling it off.

“Do you understand why this has happened?”

[mumbled and shamefaced] “…..cuz I kept calling you a sexy beanpole even tho you asked me nicely to stop.”

“Precisely.”

[iwonderwh0]

Watching again movies about androids, this time it's Ex Machina (watching it for the first time)

Below is just commentary as I'm watching it, no intellectual value in it whatsoever, just documenting it because I feel like it

+ spoilers

It's the most Kevin-looking Kevin I've ever seen

That local Kamski (I've missed his name if it was ever mentioned) creeps me out, and I'm not even 20 minutes into the movie. It's just how he looks like he's about to get angry, but then expresses a compliment or something

Kevin is too obviously into machines and they've been only talking for like a few minutes

Stop being dorky, Kevin.

Why did they have to give Ava this manner of talking 🙄

Damn, Kevin has the most typical sad character backstory and we've also got genius programmer Nathan who wrote something big at 13, oh fuck off

Honestly at this point it kinda looks like it'll be bad, I dunno.

The omnious red lighting was absolutely necessary for power cuts

Fuck Nathan honestly. What is it about rich fucks surrounding themselves with pretty young women just to treat them as shit?

Kevin, you fucking idiot. I feel like you made a mistake

Oh, I didn't expect to see Twiggy

Flirting already. I mean, she was kinda flirting the first scene she was introduced, I mean even her damn voice...I bet Nathan specifically had chosen Kevin because he knew he'd be into robots. He's just the kind to be.

Is that housekeeper a human, what's her deal? 🤔 She's not just a background character, is she?

Oh, knew ittt

This frame slaps

FUCK, fuckfuckfuck the cutting scene

WAIT, his name was CALEB not Kevin??

There's absolutely no way Nathan isn't suspecting Kevin Caleb doing whatever he's doing

Ooh, tell me they'll form an alliance (Ava and Kyoko)

Damn, it's like this knife is cutting through the butter

Love the twist

Oh, I love that she locked him lmao

I mean, I feel bad for him, poor dude was used, but I'm glad it didn't turn into the story about saving woman in trouble

I liked this movie more than I expected, for some reason I didn't expect much from it at all, despite it being so famous

[icannotgetoverbirds]

I posted 6,358 times in 2022

That's 6,305 more posts than 2021!

223 posts created (4%)

6,135 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-cooler-anon

@twiggyfrogblog

@afreshlywoundgoose

@wisteriaalu

@carameloshaemployee

I tagged 1,331 of my posts in 2022

#byrd saves for later - 152 posts

#ty twiggy! - 142 posts

#byrd is an exmo - 81 posts

#byrd chirps - 72 posts

#exmo - 71 posts

#exmormon - 69 posts

#ex mormon - 68 posts

#im feeling very exmo in this chilis tonight - 66 posts

#ex cult - 65 posts

#ex religious - 35 posts

Longest Tag: 128 characters

#im out of the v̶̨̻̳̮͈͖̖̦͓̻̏̉͂o̶̖̝̳͒͜į̷͈͍̣̭̥̫̹͍̙̆̄́̍̍͒̀̓̎͒̈̚d̷̨̧̠̞̲̣̮͔̹̟͘͘͝ͅ so now maybe i can actually do something worthwhile

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

the model and the letter

a piece written by a friend of mine, who goes by Kea, about growing up as a little mormon girl.

A little girl does her best to sit quietly, her arms folded, her eyes closed, in the tiny plastic chair. She wears a dress that is too warm and a little itchy. Somebody is praying at the front of the room. Her eyes open accidentally, and her heart rate speeds up before she squeezes them shut, admonishing herself for making a mistake.

The sacrament is in a few minutes. She can repent of her sins then - though she reminds herself that she’s too young to need this: her sins are not her own until she turns eight. Her sins belong to her parents, and she feels a twinge of guilt for burdening them with her mistakes. Still, it’s such a small thing, which she recognizes, and it was an honest mistake that was immediately corrected.

When the sacrament is passed, she eyes the young men bringing around the bread and water. They look awfully nice in their suits. I bet I’d look nice in a suit, she thinks. I bet they’re more comfortable than this dress.

She does not realize that, despite what everyone tells her, she will grow up to be a man with a severe appreciation for button-downs and ties.

At eight, the little girl has spent much of her time wanting to tuck her hair into a baseball cap, to be the girl that everyone assumes is a boy. She doesn’t really want to pull the cap off to let her hair fall out, though. She’s not really sure what’s so exciting about that.

She wears a white dress as an older man conducts an interview for her baptism. He asks her questions. He asks her if she has what she needs.

She lies.

She does not have what she needs. She believes that being baptized will bring it to her. She believes that this lie is okay, because he does not catch it, and if she needs the baptism to gain what she does not have, surely it must be acceptable to say what is necessary to be baptized.

She changes into a white jumpsuit, and her father chants a predetermined prayer before pushing her under the water. When she comes back up, she feels… something. 

If nothing else, she has completed the ritual that will allow her to be accepted by her family and the people around her. The water is warm, and she takes great pleasure in swimming away from her father with movements she categorizes as frog-like.

After she dries off and changes back into her ceremonial white dress, several men put their hands on her head, one chanting a different predetermined prayer to confirm the baptism.

She never truly receives what she was looking for.

At fourteen, she is confused, worried, and unsure. She is anxious, and she has realized that she is queer. She thinks she belongs, anyway. After all, her sexuality is the single most acceptable within her community: asexuality makes abstinence incredibly easy.

Her next ritual is with a prophesier of sorts, called the patriarch. Again, a man lays his hands on her head, and speaks her future. She hoped he would have answers for her.

He does not.

She leaves deflated but with a smile anyways - his words still meant something, right?

At seventeen, she begins to question things. After all, she wants to date eventually, but dating a man seems to not be in the cards. She wants to try and date women, but it’s forbidden by God Himself.

She tries to think her way out of it - if God loves humanity, how can He hate love? If He asked us to love one another, how can He accept the hatred His people have for those that love differently?

She can no longer think her way out of it. She shelves the issue, files it away neatly in her brain under conundrums she may never understand.

At nineteen, it hits him. First, that he refuses to be a part of an organization that treats queer people as less than human, as less worthy of glory in God, and secondly, that he is, in fact, a trans man.

Of all the things he is excited to do now that his community no longer restricts him, by far the most thrilling concept is being himself.

He finds a new community with others like him, and learns from the people within that there is more to his old community than he realized.

He learns of an evaluation first. The BITE model, which damns the organization he grew up in entirely, labeling it a cult.

He wants to think his way out of it, but he knows that he simply can’t do that anymore. His filing system has to be recategorized entirely. It’s time to relabel many of the things he learned as belonging to a cult.

On the bright side, he can now remove several concepts from the conundrums he may never understand and sort them into proper categories.

Suddenly, he is no longer an inactive or former member. He is a cult survivor, and he sees startling connections between the actions of the cult and the actions of abusers.

He tries to make a molehill out of a mountain, to level his cult with religions that have similar traits.

Then he hears about the CES letter. He reads it, and suddenly there is more recategorization to be done. An uncomfortably significant amount of fog clears from his thoughts. Things have never been right here. 

See the full post

100 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

#4

if you've got any ex-mormon friends/moots, be sure to check up on them this weekend. conference is happening and it can be a really hard time for us.

to all my exmo moots and any exmos that may see this post: it's going to be okay. i may not know what it is that you need to hear right now, but above all else, it's going to be okay.

it's okay to be scared. it's okay if this is triggering. it's okay if you watch it or don't. it's okay if you need to take some time away from everything today. it's okay if you need to keep yourself busy today. it's okay to be angry, to be bitter, to be sad.

be extra gentle with yourself this weekend. it's going to be okay.

110 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#3

so many mlm yearning blogs, so many of them single. WHERE ARE YOU PEOPLE. I'M LONELY TOO. CAN WE AT LEAST BE FRIENDS. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CAN WE AT LEAST BE FRIENDS.

224 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

#2

resource: good picrews for fat people

If anybody wants to help me put together a proper rating system, I'd love to hear about that. In the meantime, this post will be used as a place where I collect and share picrews that have any level of fat representation.

The following have fat in the title or are made specifically with fat people in mind:

Just a warning, I'm not sure if the second one was actually made benevolently or for less kind reasons than representation.

This one isn't made specifically for fat people but has a larger body type that's done surprisingly well.

See the full post

569 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Fat people deserve better.

We are not repulsive. We are not vile. We are not appalling.

We are people.

If my existence "promotes obesity"? Good!

You want to know why?

I am not promoting the idea that someone should become obese. I am not going to attempt to police someone else's body and lifestyle like sizeist people do.

I am promoting the idea that people of all sizes are deserving of the bare minimum of basic human respect.

This should not be a radical idea. This should not be something we have to fight about.

99% of the time? Being fat is not a choice. And you know what? Even if it was - even if I was shoving big macs into my greasy fucking maw every 2 hours?

I would still be deserving of basic decency.

I would still be deserving of proper medical care that takes into account things other than my size and diet.

I would still be deserving of comfort, of clothing that fits.

You want to know the worst part of all of this?

Fat kids deserve better, and all too often, they don't get it.

Fat kids deserve to be able to be active without being mocked for the way their body moves.

Fat kids deserve to be seen as children rather than medical problems that need solving.

Fat kids deserve clothing that fits them and makes them feel good about themselves.

Fat kids deserve to eat, and to eat good food.

Fat kids deserve to eat cake at birthday parties like everyone else.

Fat kids deserve to go trick-or-treating like all the other kids.

Fat kids deserve love. Fat kids deserve respect.

Fat kids deserve a proper childhood without having to pay a toll of trying to change their bodies.

Fat kids deserve acceptance for their bodies as they are and as they will be - not pleasantries about how they'll grow up to be skinny, so they don't need to learn to love themselves before then.

Fat people deserve better.

1,667 notes - Posted June 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[grayintogreen]

WIP Wednesday

I had a hard time picking what scene to do today because there's so many I want to share, but I also wanna save stuff for when it's posted so you can imagine how difficult this has been.

Here's a scene from the IMPOSSIBLY LONG Chapter Two of YCDHN!

Molly knew what the person who called this happy fun ball of nightmares home was doing the second they walked into the laboratory and the strange itch of his blood magic intensified into something new and maddening. He hadn’t even wanted to enter at all, but the moment Cree and Fjord looked at him with concern he pushed past it, brushed them off, and then the bottom dropped out of his stomach the moment he stepped within.

Most of the wall space was dedicated to diagrams and madman’s notes pinned up between snapped off horns and bits of bone and what Molly was certain was skin tacked up like it was ready for the tanner, spread taut and still marked by strange veins and sickly gray in color. Most of the diagrams depicted night hags though some were of a fiendish persuasion. The scribblings were in a language Molly couldn’t have read even if he was much of a reader.

He backed up against the wall closest to the door and smacked right into the closed bars of a human-sized cage that creaked and protested on hinges gone stiff with disuse.

“What was he doing?” He choked out.

“Research on the gathering of souls.” Cree pulled notes from the wall with reckless abandon, gathering them up and spreading them across a blood-covered wooden table set at the center. She was in a fervor about something. “See? These are diagrams of the bags that night hags carry with them. You remember, don’t you?”

“How could I forget?” Flashes of memory played before his eyes- Caleb under her thrall, fighting him, locking him away… Those claw marks on Caleb’s arm came from that fight, ensuring neither of them would ever forget what she had done.

That was also the only time he and Lucien had proven they could work together. It would likely be the last unless something gave.

“Why would that be of interest?” Fjord paced restlessly, fingers clenching and unclenching. It was a rhetorical question, but Cree answered anyway.

“To him? I have no idea.” She squinted at the notes and cursed when they failed to yield some arbitrary information for her. “All I know is that he was quite preoccupied with beings that can remove souls and trap them.” She shifted one of the notes around so Fjord could see. “See? This is a design for a soul jar- a device within which to hold a trapped soul for an eternity- or until it has use to him.”

“Y’know that means nothin’ to me, Cree.”

Twiggy had been uncharacteristically silent through all of this and, removing himself from this conversation that sent horrible shockwaves down his spine, Molly searched for her, hoping she wasn’t going to steal one of those jars (who knew if they were full or empty at this point) on accident somehow, but all he had to do was look down to find her right by his knees, touching the cage he was still pressed against.

“He put them in here…” She laughed, but it was humorless. There was a twitch in her smile like she couldn’t quite help wearing it but something in her wanted to scream. It reminded him a little of Vess’s annex in a way. “I bet he poked and prodded at them, too. I bet he made them feel so small and helpless.”

The idea of someone making night hags and fiends feel small and helpless was laughable, but Twiggy wasn’t talking about them, was she? She was faraway, just like Caleb had been when they first stepped into this space.

“Twiggy?” He glanced down at her. She looked up and her bright and cheerful smile returned like something had just clicked back on inside of her.

“I bet you guys would never do horrible things like that. I like trusting people, but sometimes you trust the wrong people. And I don’t know how to not do it, ‘cause a lot of people are great.” She folded her hands behind her back. “Some of them though…”

Oh fuck him sideways. What had <i>happened</I> to this girl? For a brief moment, he was reminded of Toya and all he wanted to do was pick her up and hold her. He didn’t like kids in spaces kids don't belong as a general rule, but Toya was an exception- Toya was circus and she could handle herself.

Twiggy… probably wasn’t a kid, though. He’d thought it before idly, but as she stepped into a patch of shadow cast by the cage he could almost see the telltale laugh lines that suggested age.

Seeing him staring at her, she stepped out of the shadows- like magic the lines vanished- and tugged his coat. “Don’t make that face. You have a <i>great</i> smile that lights up the <i>whole</i> room! And you’re so colorful! Frowning just makes you all gray.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Besides that mean Sir Cadigan can’t get at me anymore.”

Molly made a mental note to add Sir Cadigan of Port Damali to his shitlist.

“Hey, Molly?”

He looked up at Fjord, which made him vaguely aware of some moisture on his upper lip. Probably some post nasal drip from being in that cold water and the shift in temperature. Thanks for the susceptibility to colds, Lucien.

Fjord gestured to his own nose, his green skin a little paler than usual. “You got a little-“

Molly ran his fingers under his nose to wipe away whatever the hell Fjord was indicating.

They came back smeared with blood.

[likeamothtofame]

“Woah you’re super tall and imposing. Are you wearing heels under that fancy coat to gain some more height? I bet you are!” Dog brain definitely being dog brained

"Excuse me?" Valentino sneered down at the psychiatrist with a look not unlike the one you'd give a wad of gum stuck to your shoe, seemingly offended by his mere existence. Jeez, who shoved a stick up his ass today? Oh yeah. Nevermind. At least the chance to be a dick to some undeserving fool seemed to lift his spirits if only temporarily as a smirk slowly replaced his scowl.

"These are not heels," he hissed, sticking a twiggy leg out from under his wings to show Jack. The unflatteringly short shorts he was wearing really made him look like he was naked under there. "These are motherfucking platforms, and they're worth more than you are."