#there's so much fandom in this fandom...

[samstree]

more courageous to overcome

(behold! my first obikin fic :'D, rated G, and it's also on AO3)

The rain makes Anakin soft.

They are in the quietest corner of Tython, the heart of the forest, where the air is cool with condensation. The first raindrop hits the ground, and then another, the steady rhythm morphing into the constant patter against the roof of the cabin.

Everything about Anakin softens when it starts to rain, a sigh releasing from his lungs, his shoulders relaxing as if all weight has been lifted from them. He opens all the windows, letting the wind bring in some of the rain. A cold gust fills the room, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Obi-Wan sits on their bed, a book in his lap. Soon, he finds himself joined by Anakin, long limbs curling around the space next to him, pushing away the book to make room for his head.

Anakin lies down on Obi-Wan’s lap, blinking blearily at the soft patter of rain.

He’s still trying to look out the window despite the sleepiness clear in his features, despite his breaths slowing down. Stubbornly, his eyes fix on the mountains far away, on the misty green that stretches into the clouds.

The sky is grey, but Anakin’s eyes shine with hope. It’s warm in the Force, wrapping around his being and seeping into Obi-Wan’s touch.

Even years after leaving Tatooine, raindrops from the sky are still a sight to be admired. It brings out a side of Anakin that was hidden in childhood, pushed away to survive the harsh realities of life in the desert.

Obi-Wan remembers the first time Anakin saw rain at the age of nine, the padawan braid still fresh by his ear. The wonder in the boy’s eyes was brighter than any sun in the galaxy. He tried to catch every drop of water with his hands, laughing and splashing all the puddles, even though his robe was soaked through.

The wonder doesn’t show as overtly these days, as the boy has grown to be the man that he is today. Underneath the softness in Anakin’s eyes, he is still drawn to the rain, amazed by its existence.

Obi-Wan smiles, threading his fingers through Anakin’s hair. It’s growing long, nearly reaching his nape, softer from the moisture in the air, the curls more pronounced. He keeps playing with it, brushing across Anakin’s hairline patiently until he drifts off reluctantly.

The traces of war fade away when Anakin sleeps, his features relaxed in the soothing sound of rain. The scar across his eye is hidden from the soft curls. When Obi-Wan tries to touch it, Anakin mumbles quietly, a frown forming between his eyes, so he retracts his hand.

They stay there for a long time. Obi-Wan meditates to the steady rise and fall of Anakin’s chest, surrounded by the warm presence of him in the Force. The forest murmurs with stories untold, ancient wisdom lost in time. The mountains are peaceful, serene, and protective of all creatures inhabiting their homes. The green foliage covers every inch of the ground, making the planet hum with life.

When Obi-Wan opens his eyes, it is to a gentle nudge in his side. The sky has grown brighter, the downpour slowing to a light shower.

“Why did you let me fall asleep?” Anakin says, voice heavy from sleep. He shifts onto his back so he’s looking at Obi-Wan with bleary eyes. “I meant to listen to the rain.”

Obi-Wan huffs. “It has rained every day since we arrived. It will rain again tomorrow, and every day after.”

It’s the reason they came to the rainforest of Tython in the first place, to find somewhere away from the horrors and simply rest, and Anakin can only rest where there is rain.

But Anakin’s mouth is forming that pout of his, a displeased grumble under his breath. He rolls onto his knees, with arms around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and face buried in his chest.

“I still want to see it,” he says, voice muffled, before looking up in excitement. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

“Anakin…”

Without a pause, Anakin has scrambled out of bed and thrown a cloak in Obi-Wan’s direction, who catches it with an exasperated huff. Obi-Wan doesn’t particularly enjoy getting wet in the rain, but Anakin is already out of the room.

Letting out a quiet curse, Obi-Wan dresses himself quickly to find Anakin by the door, facing the forest outside and its murmuring sounds. He stops in his tracks.

Here Anakin is, reaching out his left hand to catch a droplet in his palm. Even though Obi-Wan cannot see his face, the happiness that fills the Force is unmistakable.

Perhaps, getting a little wet is not the worst thing in the world.

“Let’s go, old man.” Anakin beckons him, looking back at Obi-Wan. His hand is still there, reaching out absently to feel the rain, never realizing he’s kept this habit since childhood. “If you don’t hurry, I’ll just leave you here.”

“No, you won’t. I taught you better than to use empty threats, dear one.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, pulling up his hood to follow Anakin despite the cheeky comments about him being slowed down by age.

With damp moss beneath their feet and the fresh smell of dirt in the air, they trek up a hill side by side. The trail weaves through uneven terrain, the towering trees forming a canopy of dark green. The leaves rustle in the wind as if trying to reveal a secret.

They find each other’s hand somewhere along the way.

The rain has nearly trickled to a stop when they reach the top, the clouds giving way to the first ray of sunlight. The ruin of an ancient Jedi temple sits at the top of the mountain, the broken walls still standing tall after millenniums.

Anakin’s hair is soaked, the curls wild in the mountain wind. He brushes the wet locks back, shaking away the droplets.

“Anakin, stop that.” Obi-Wan blinks when the water flies into his eyes, and it only makes Anakin’s grin wider.

He adjusts Obi-Wan’s hood so he’s shielded from the light drizzle. With their faces only a hand’s breadth away, Obi-Wan stares into those clear blue eyes he no longer knows how to live without.

“There,” Anakin says quietly, eyes crinkling in happiness.

When they are the only two people on a planet like this, away from the pain and destruction of the war, Anakin looks much younger than he ought to be. Obi-Wan keeps forgetting how young he was when the fighting began, how fast he was forced to grow, how young he still is.

The past is in the past. They are simply existing in this moment, healing and resting in the rain.

Anakin turns away to watch the view—the forest that stretches into the horizon, the dramatic rise and fall of the land. The fog lifts from the mountains, letting the sun cast its golden light. It’s one of the most beautiful things in the galaxy, but Obi-Wan cannot find it in himself to care.

He keeps his eyes on Anakin, on the wonder on his face. The Force is balanced with serenity, its ancient power thrumming with an energy that can only be found on the mystical land of Tython.

“Thank you,” Anakin says with an exhale, meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze.

“What for?”

The question comes out as light as a breath. Perhaps the rain has a similar effect on Obi-Wan, he reckons, softening everything about him.

“I’m more at peace than I have ever been in this life, Obi-Wan, and it’s because of—well…”

He trails off, but Obi-Wan tries to fill in the silence. “The rain?”

The rain that seeps into every flower, every leaf on this planet. The rain that washes away all the hardened lines on Anakin’s face, lightens all the darkness in his eyes. The rain that is everything good and hopeful in life.

But Anakin shakes his head.

“The rain helps, the mountains too, but there is more,” he says, lifting both of Obi-Wan’s hands and pressing a kiss in his palms. “There is someone.” Anakin leans in, resting their foreheads together, his damp curls brushing against Obi-Wan’s skin. “There is you.”

“Oh.”

The planet carries whispers of lost wisdom and forgotten treasures, of powers from the very beginning of the Jedi. None of it compares to the love that bursts into the Force.

Love is all Obi-Wan feels when they are the only two people in the rain, left alone by the hustling noise of the galaxy. It’s all he feels when he catches Anakin’s hand, the memory of a raindrop still in his palm.

“Dear one,” he answers. “There is also you.”

Their lips meet carefully, gently. Anakin’s cheeks are cool to the touch.

The force hums around them, and Obi-Wan realizes, against all odds, peace has also found its way to his heart.

The rain has stopped, but Obi-Wan tastes it on Anakin’s lips anyway.

[hkthatgffan]

ALEX PLEASE! I CAN'T TAKE HANDLE THIS MUCH BABY BILL CONTENT IN ONE YEAR! 😭🥺

"These horrible wretched babies birthed from the pen of Emmy Cicierega."

[kik1draws]

I feel like it would definitely be them lol🤧

[emberfaye]

You know what?

I love you, fics that take months to update. I click on the newest chapter and have no memory of this place and get to go back some chapters and rediscover how much i love everything about this story.

I love you, fics that take years to update. I think of you fondly, and know your names, go search for you and see an update from this year and scream, diving in uncaring of any missed details (i will finish the update and read you in reverse because this is a treat you have bestowed)

I love you, fics that probably will never update again. Thank you for being a roman empire for my mind, thank you for teaching me about the ephemeral fandom experience, for inspiring a thousand million what if-s, for being a comfort read and a nostalgia read and a reread.

I love you fic writers, who jump into projects and stories with enthusiasm. I love you when you succeed in pumping out those chapters and that love doesn't go away when you stop.

I love you fic writers who post and then get in your own head and never feel confident enough to update, whether it's at all or whether it's just that one story.

I love you fic writers, who have a fandom or media hurt you to the point of abandoning or having a hard time with their WIPs.

I love you fic writers, who lose interest or have life changes or illness or bad memory. Thank you for being part of the fandom, a core part of the fandom. Thank you for the time spent in the fandom.

I love you, fic writers who try out something new and then stop. You're so valid.

I love you, WIP fics that may or may not ever get finished. Thank you for brightening my day in the way only you could have.

[penny-anna]

fanfiction writers when a character is remotely non-human

[morganbritton132]

The funniest thing Stranger Things could do is reveal that Steve’s parents are like, really liberal. They donate to AIDs research. They were arrested protesting the Vietnam War. They campaigned for Mondale. Steve tells them that Nancy broke up with him and they’re like, “Thank god, that family believes in Reaganomics.”

[sketchy-doge1]

Jedediah and Octavius wish yall a happy pride!!

[kimdokjas]

though the movie might be cancelled, yuri on ice will live forever in our hearts. thank you yoi fandom, it's been real ♡

[sabh0]

And then they went back home and watched a movie or something

[dano-or-not]

I find it really wonderful and comforting that Mob Psycho 100 is so inherently optimistic, even though its main message, “you are not special” sounds so mean at face-value. Being special means that something matters more than something else of the same category. Being special at baking? Great! Being special at math? Super! Being special at bodybuilding? Neat! Having so many people have such unique special abilities is what makes the world work. But having a special ability doesn’t mean that someone who doesn't match your special ability matters less than you. You can't be special for simply existing, because that would mean someone else isn't. You aren't special because you inherently matter.

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

I am such a big Werewolf Stan advocate I had to jump on this particular train 🙏 (but I didn't really wanna commit to full line art, you guys understand)

Oh, and you guys aren't gonna believe this, but here's part two 🙌

[lil-lemon-snails]

sometimes you just need to hear it v some stills below the cut v

[iveoy]

they make me SICK

[paperlignes]

WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS (2019-2024) SEASON 6, EPISODE 5: NANDOR'S ARMY

[somewhereincairparavel]

"jason is a knockoff watered down percy" NO hear me out, jason actually parallels annabeth immensely, sharing SO many similarities with her personality, not percy, in this essay I will-

edit: my full analysis is out now! here

[the-names-quinn]

I have changed a lot from the kid I was when I was 13. Any type of love apart from cis/hetero relationships used to not compute for me, and now I'm out to 5 people in my day-to-day life. And honestly, I do kind of owe it a little bit(a whole lot) to Undertale for opening up a different life path. I could have ended up really freaking stupid and probably super depressed without it.