#anyway. the agonies. etc.

[milkweedman]

Am in so much pain right now its unreal

[sergle]

genuinely @ that ask you answered: as a trans woman some of the most genuine kinship i have found has been with fat queer cis women. especially if they have PCOS or something similar because like. their story mirrors mine so intensely (and their perscriptions, lol) and it's so natural to relate on literally everything about conventional attraction and clothing not fitting quite right and the way society views you

it's refreshing and delightful to find yourself in people who are different from you 💜

I REALLY think there are so many shared experiences there!! yeah! and god, with PCOS, that has even more similarities in the shared experience venn diagram. I don't talk from that perspective but just being a fat woman, in both cases, womanhood/girlhood isn't inherent and it isn't given freely, it's conditional, it's worked for. the specific types of clothing to look feminine, the clothing not fitting, the makeup, the hair, the nails, the body shaping, the put-togetherness, all in the pursuit to be read as "girl" first, instantly, before anything else. something that another woman might have already, in her default state, regardless of the clothes she leaves the house wearing, or if she can do makeup well. She can dress up and wear makeup and enhance her femininity too, but she doesn't Have to do it, not in the same way. I have actually literally already been thinking about this, bc it's a funny thing!! in some ways, I never got to Be a girl, I was fat first and girl second. nobody looked at me and just saw a girl. I've talked to some other fat women about this, and apparently it's a pervasive feeling, that "fat" is, in itself, treated almost like some other third gender. so there's a lot to relate to lmao, in friendships and relationships w trans women, going "ah, those things you feel obligated to do in order to meet the standards of womanhood, I recognize those, I do them too"

[kordbot]

I'm very insane about our sillyguys so I drew a thing. patches belongs to @hackingmachine , steven is mine [though he's just a hand and bloody puddle on the floor] the song is photographic memories by steam powered giraffe !!

[oatbugs]

pls i need to provide updates

[wizardfvcker]

keep thinking about writing a gomens fic in disco elysium style simply because it would be fun

[albatris]

YVONNE!!!!!!!!! three of she......

[image IDs: three digital drawings of the character Yvonne Tozier, a fat woman with medium brown skin, long wavy brown hair, red glasses and a few moles scattered over her face.

1. Yvonne is shown from the knees up against a pale yellow speckled background, wearing a floral button-up crop top, pale blue shorts and earrings shaped like orange slices. she is wearing an insulin pump clipped to the top of her shorts with tubing attached to the side of her stomach. her nails are painted red, she has brown eyes, and her hair is neat and hanging loosely. she is sipping boba tea she holds in one hand and making a peace sign with the other. a small doodled sun is next to her face.

2. Yvonne is shown from the thighs up, hunched over slightly, clutching a red shovel with a crazed look in her eyes. her hair is up in a messy bun, with a number of strands hanging loose over her face. she is wearing a pale turtleneck jumper, dark pants and earrings shaped like strawberries. her clothes, the shovel, and her face are splattered heavily with blood. the image is coloured in heavy purple and pink hues, with a pale pink background.

3. a small chibi-style Yvonne is sitting cross-legged with a mug next to her, holding a nintendo switch in one hand and smiling triumphantly. her other hand fist pumps the air. her hair is hanging loosely, her eyes are red, and she has two sharp canine teeth poking out from her mouth. she is wearing a purple, pink and yellow striped jumper, red jeans, purple sneakers and flower-shaped earrings. there are three exclamation points next to her head.

end ID]

I’ll reblog with taglist in a minute! tumblr isn’t cooperating! also we’re outta camp nano now so I’m gonna start tagging all you regular taglist folks again. mwah

[bihters]

bihter + favourite outfits

[merverelli]

happy (late) anniversary kill jse!!! 🔪👁️🩺

[mejomonster]

(One of the sucky things) about healing dissassociation/not being able to feel shit. Is first u feel the stuff u did not notice u were feeling, which u disconnected from, which is mostly big Yikes heavy stuff. And only after u feel miserable a while do u regain the ability to feel like... happy. Excited. The pleasant stuff that has more feeling to it than the neutral content zone that's been your "nicest" felt emotion for the last year.

[tennessoui]

"Who were you with?" if you want

ooo hello!! hello!!! this was supposed to be set in the practice kisses au, but i did a complete 180 because of my mood so this prompt fill is actually set in the agricorps au!!! basically its an au where obi-wan time travels back to his 13 yo self and decides that he's just going to go to the agricorps because the galaxy and all his loved ones will be better off if he just removes himself from that picture......

only for baby anakin and shmi skywalker to be sent to Bandomeer by the Jedi Council after Qui-Gon's death in TPM. obi-wan tries his best to keep his distance, but eventually they end up in the exploracorps together. even more eventually, they fall in love.

(1.3k)(only the very slightest nsfw)(mostly just bitter/sweet vibes)

“Who were you with?” A boy’s voice interrupts the flow of Obi-Wan’s speech, and it makes him pause. He blinks at the children sitting in front of him, all wide-eyed and eager to hear more. He’s been telling the Night Story on Bandomeer for three decades now, ever since he arrived.

Everyone believes he has the best and wildest imagination in the entirety of the Agricorps.

The part of him who is still and will forever be Old Ben knows that he simply has memories living inside him, ones that are too heavy to carry just by himself. He needs to tell someone. Anyone. After living for so long in the desert wastelands of Tatooine by himself, separated from himself, he needs to speak these things.

They will never happen in this universe. But he needs someone to know that they happened once. Somewhere. A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, he always begins his stories with. There was a very young padawan learner and his very old Jedi master.

This story is different though, a misadventure he’d had on Tatooine instead of anything involving Anakin at all. It has gotten complicated, telling stories that involve his padawan, now that he knows another version of the same man so differently. 

So…intimately.

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry? Oh, little one, this story isn’t about me. It is about a Jedi Master named Ben, and I’m sorry to say this Jedi Master was quite alone.”

“Oh,” the child sinks back to his knees. “Really?”

“Why would I lie?” Obi-Wan asks with a wry twist of his mouth. The truth is, of course, that he has been lying ever since he woke up in the body of his thirteen year old self, his dead master standing over him and looking concerned. He’d figured things out fairly quickly, though he still does not know the why. Maybe he never will

When Qui-Gon Jinn offered to train him, he knew enough about himself and his failures and the future to say no thank you. To take himself out of the eyes of the galaxy. To put himself where no one could ever suffer from his decisions and choices ever again. He’d stayed on Bandomeer, joined the Argicorps, and he has been lying ever since.

“You know,” a voice says from the doorway. The younglings turn around to look at the newcomer, and Obi-Wan allows himself the same privilege. Anakin Skywalker is leaning up against the wood of the community lodge, flight suit still on and Exploracorps medal pinned to his chest. His hair is windswept and falling to his shoulders.

The Anakin Skywalker Obi-Wan Kenobi raised did not look like this when he was twenty-seven. That is Obi-Wan’s fault.

The Anakin Skywalker Obi-Wan Kenobi raised also never once looked at him the way this Anakin does: like he is poised to eat him alive. This…might be Obi-Wan’s fault, but at least it is a refreshingly new fault. No one can accuse Obi-Wan Kenobi of making the same mistake twice at least.

Anakin raises his eyebrows, and Obi-Wan realizes he’s quite forgotten to listen to anything he’s said.

“Pardon?” he asks, eyes focusing again on that beloved face. There is a bruise on Anakin’s neck, just at the corner of his jaw. When Anakin turns to look at the door—presumably checking the level of sunlight–-it moves with his skin, becomes apparent and darker for it. Obi-Wan’s teeth ache with the memory.

“Alright, kids,” Anakin tells the younglings. “Obi-Wan here has had a long day. He just got in this afternoon. We can pick this back up tomorrow after morning chores, yeah?”

There are long, drawn out groans of protest. Ben had been in the middle of saving a sandy-haired boy from the mouth of a Sarlac pit, but Anakin has the same commanding air he’d worn during the Clone Wars. 

One by one, the children stand and stretch. Most say thank you, a few beg to know how Ben and Luke survive, if they survive.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan tells the inquisitive children. “I can assure you that Ben and Luke’s stories are not over.”

Finally, it’s just Anakin in the room with him, and the man  pushes off the doorway and ambles across the hardwood floors to sit next to him on his bench. Their thighs brush. For seven months when Anakin was twenty-two, the most painful age, that would have been all it took to have Obi-Wan pull back, away, and out of the room. Sometimes off the planet.

“Sometimes when you tell your stories,” Anakin rumbles, and his hand comes up to stroke up the run of Obi-Wan’s spine, “your eyes get so distant. So lonely.”

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat.

“I noticed it when I was a kid,” Anakin tells him. “I sat right there my second night on Bandomeer.” He gestures to a spot in the corner, and Obi-Wan nods before he can stop himself. He remembers. Of course he remembers feeling that familiar Force presence, light and hot and so bright, for the first time in….in so very long. “But I moved all around, every night somewhere different, trying to find a place to sit where you would look at me. You never did.”

He’s right, too. Every night during Storytime, Obi-Wan would try to convince himself to make eye contact with the boy. But it felt too much like a betrayal to his Anakin, the one he raised, to tell another version of him about their adventures while trying to cut as much of him out as possible.

Anakin’s hand, rough with calluses and scar tissue, runs down his arm and then envelopes both of Obi-Wan’s from where they are clasped in his lap. Three years ago, he’d lost his left arm after an Ancient temple collapsed on top of them. It still surprises Obi-Wan, the way the Force can rhyme.

“You’d look so lonely,” Anakin whispers, raising their clasped hands and kissing the back of his knuckles and then over each finger. “I wanted to help. I wanted—I don’t know. I was a kid. But I wanted you to see me. And then…see me as someone who could go on adventures with you, just like in your stories.”

Obi-Wan swallows. “We do that now,” he points out. They’re usually paired together on off-world missions for the Exploracorps. They’re still the team. They’ll always be the Team.

It’s just that sometimes in this universe in the middle of hyperspace travel, Anakin will sink between Obi-Wan’s legs and bring him off with his mouth.

But the Team still. Just slightly different. Slightly slanted.

“Yeah, we do,” Anakin agrees. With their tied-together hands, he raises Obi-Wan’s chin until they must make eye contact. “But sometimes, your eyes, Ben….” He trails off and bumps their foreheads together. “You have old man eyes, sweetheart,” he tells him. “Kind, but…still lonely.”

Obi-Wan works his mouth, trying to find words.

He can’t. He’s used them all in his stories.

“Promise you will tell me one day?” Anakin asks, and Obi-Wan is nodding before he even realizes that Anakin has just called him Ben and Obi-Wan did not correct him.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” he whispers.

Anakin smiles. There are crinkles by his eyes that Obi-Wan’s Anakin never had. Laughter lines. “Obi-Wan, sweetheart, I just told you. I’ve been listening to you tell stories since I was a kid,” he presses a warm hand to his cheek and kisses him quickly on the lips before standing. “I know what you look like when you lie.” He stretches as if he has not just waltzed in here and given Obi-Wan a heart attack, and cards his mechno hand through Obi-Wan’s hair. “Mom wants to plate dinner in ten, alright with you, baby?”

“Um. Yeah,” Obi-Wan replies, thrown for an even bigger loop at this abrupt change in conversation. “Yes?”

“Good,” Anakin says. “I’ll let her know and meet you there.”

And then he’s gone, just as quickly as he came.

This time, Obi-Wan follows. 

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

I barely watch dunmesh why is this getting notes !

[cerealmonster15]

i feel like ur a fellow has read almost every jamiazu fic in the ao3 tag so . if u do know what im talking abt what are ir thoughts on the jamil crushes insect/bug and had to kiss azul so he can wash his hands fic . the hilarity of the situation is so silly to me

kjfdlsjflsdf Yknow for a while i was pretty good with keeping up with the jamiazus within my comfort filters LOL. ive fallen behind more lately bc it's gotten so much more popular i feel. i hadn't read this one but it did not take me long to find it on ao3 just now SDJKFLSD. i have read a dif fic by that author tho after further investigation 🔍👀

fave line from this one tho: "while normally Jamil could have been able to foresee that he would end up alone in the hallways with Azul, his vigilant instincts chose today of all times not to work." my boy and his annoying classmate radar sklfkjdslejl SO SILLY!!! azul being a little smug bitch about it was so funny and so #real. god get jamil outta there SAVE HIM!!!

[darabeatha]

Absolutely feral that after getting kicked from heaven and falling down for 9 whole days (and then staying burning in agony in a pit of fire down in hell for another 9 days) s.atan and his army of millions of fallen angels just crawl from the shores of hell, decide to make a hugeass palace for themselves and then discuss what the heck are they going to do now, only to come to the conclusion that the way to hurt god the most would be to destroy his newest creation (men) which from then on they can further take on earth and make it their new kingdom (bc during the council, one of the fallen angels argued that even if they made a new kingdom in hell, at the end of the day they are still essentially 'trapped' in a box, so would that even count as a triumph?)

[parsleymusic]

waiting for someone to deliver a critique they promised to deliver in september is agony

[sanchoyo]

well talking to my mom went well (I just told her I’m really unsure rn. Her first response was ‘oh well what’s the rush, ur not dating rn are u?’ Which. What does that have to do with gender??? It made me stop and laugh at least lmao). Also she suggested I just keep the clothes in a box or smth for a month or two so that if I change my mind abt dresses and skirts I don’t throw them out and regret it. Which was an awesome suggestion bc quite frankly I’m very emotionally attached to my clothes. A lot of the dresses are real vintage or actually worth a lot too and very unique and…a part of me wants to try and rework them and sew them into either shirts or pants bc they’d fuck severely but 1. I don’t have a sewing machine 2. I…feel weird about modifying such old clothes. It feels kind of bad…like what if I fuck them up bc lack of sewing experience!! I’ve only rly done basic mending (…and I guess that Ichigo cosplay years ago but even that didn’t turn out great bc it was my first project. aaa)

[sunliv]

buaa.........