#give him a few examples

[seraphdreams]

yuuta and spit. preferably, you spitting in his mouth.

i let out the deepest sigh when i saw this, youre killing me..

yuuta’s such a good boy, it’s almost embarrassing. you could speak to him in the same cadence you would a dog, and he’d think nothing of it. he’s completely at your mercy, vulnerable to your every touch . . “yuuta, open up.” you tell him and you really don’t have to since his pretty lips are already parted to let out little whines n hiccups as you ride him crazy . . running your thumb along his plush bottom lip as you spit into his mouth :( he feels so dirty, like he’s being used but god, does that make him harder than a fucking rock, he can feel himself cumming from just that…, oh, how you croon in his ear, tell him not to swallow just yet,,, asking him if you taste good and all he can do is nod his head like a pussydrunk idiot.

he just wants to be your fucktoy, poor baby.

[13eyond13]

underrated funny thing about lawlight is they never actually did get to confirm that 100% of the time they were basically thinking exactly what the other person thought they were thinking every single time

[lyril]

alright, enough polls focused on the main adventure time characters, we all know marceline is sweeping them

i misspelled lady rainicorn but it's ok we'll live

[jamiesfootball]

What are your thoughts on Ted? Is it good he went home?

These are two separate answers but I'm gonna try to combine them into one thought bubble (bear with me).

My short answer regarding Ted's ending is that you can't create a fully fleshed out character for 2-3 seasons and then in the final hour decide he was Mary Poppins all along. The Mary Poppins is meant to be strange, not-quite of normal ilk. She's the static character who leads the change in others, the one who inspires. You don't usually see the inner thoughts and workings of a static character.

From the very first time the audience meets Ted, we understand that this is not a static character because he is literally one of our starting POVs. We see his uncertainty about flying across the globe to go teach a sport he doesn't understand. We see him turning to Beard for reassurance. We see him stick his hand out where it isn't wanted while he tries to find common ground with people in a new country. We see the beginnings of a panic attack at the press conference.

That is is episode one. He is not a static character. He is not a strange and unusual person impossible to understand. He is inspiring, yes, but that is because of his humanity- his kindness.

He is not a Mary Poppins.

Ted is at his most interesting when he is a complicated, struggling, but ultimately kind man who tries his best to show genuine empathy and compassion towards others. The fact that this same trait doubles as a flaw is equally intriguing.

Ted can reassure Sam that Jamie won't be coming back, or Ted can reach out to Jamie when he's struggling and ask him to come back. Both are acts of kindness. He can not do both.

Ted can show Rebecca empathy and understanding for her trying to sabotage Richmond, but it ties his hands on being honest to Jamie about why he was sent away in the first place.

In trying to balance kindness, Ted struggles to be direct. He struggles to come right out and tell people how he's feeling about situations. Despite encouraging other people to talk about their feelings, he dances around his own and avoids awkward confrontations. I think that is the flaw that Ted most needed to explore. At the same time, I hesitate to say he could have learned too much given how he was struggling to process his own trauma with his dad and how it effected his relationships with those around him. (Put a pin here, I'll be back for it in a later.)

Pivoting back to Ted's purpose in the narrative, unfortunately as the show ran through season three, it became too near-sighted on The Message and in turn lost sight of making sure the characters had fulfilling interactions with each other. This especially becomes apparent when it comes to Ted, whose motto in season one is 'be curious not judgemental.' I maintain that season three was a low point for Ted emotionally, and if I were to assign a reason in-universe as to why Ted seemed so off from his usual self, it would be that in his depression, he no longer had the energy to realize he wasn't being curious. One indication of this would be how many times Ted casts assumptions on people in season three, compared to his hey-do-you-think conversational openers from earlier seasons. Some examples would include:

-never trying to figure out what makes Zava tick (this is a big one to me. I think season one Ted would have been all over trying to crack Zava like a nut)

-assuming he already knows why Jamie is upset about Zava joining the team and brushing it off

-assuming that Dr Jacob would propose + assuming that Michelle would say yes instead of trying to ferret out whether

-his assumptions about Henry being bullied (the knee-jerk reaction as a parent to protect your kid is understandable, the lack of delving into the situation and why it happened are more what I mean here)

-his whole conversation with Jamie about his dad. Other people in more succinct words have pointed out how it feels like he fully projected what he needed to hear onto Jamie's situation, and I think that's fairly accurate. This was not a 'talk to me and tell me what's going on so I can better understand how i need to help you' conversation. This was a 'oh that's whats going on? how about you do this? that work? alright then' talk.

So the finale struts back around and Ted has made a decision. He's going home. And it's meant to feel like closure. They play the Cat Stevens song and it's supposed to feel like Ted has finally made a step in the right direction (which is certainly one take on those lyrics but I digress). He's going back home. He's going to be with his son. He's letting go of the damage his father leaving did to him. He's giving up on something and he's finally okay with that. He left Richmond better than he found it and that's what matters.

Everyone else can cry but he's not crying. He's finally with Henry again.

So here's my two cents. And this is definitely just my opinion but-

THAT'S FUCKING STUPID.

Because the only way that Henry OR Richmond exists is in a false dichotomy wherein the two cannot possibly coincide, despite the fact that there are MANY KIDS' SHOWS ABOUT CHILDREN MOVING TO NEW LOCATIONS EVEN NEW COUNTRIES because that is a NORMAL THING THAT HAPPENS IN THE NORMAL WORLD ALL THE TIME.

Like holy shit that is. That is just the plot of a Disney channel show. 'My dad the football coach moved to england to coach the other football.' That is just the plot of a Disney channel original movie with a $300 budget that magically gets a sequel. Is that what I'm supposed to say 'oh no, that could never happen' over? Because I"m already watching a TV show. You can put a show in another show- I'm fine with that.

Remember that pin above? Time to pull it out. Because you know what would have been a more narratively satisfying conclusion?

If Ted had actually asked Henry and Michelle if they'd liked to move to London to be closer to him. If he had actually expressed his fucking need to have both his Kansas family and his Richmond family close to him. Maybe they would have said no, maybe they would have said yes, but you know what? It would have at least opened the door to the discussion about what Ted might need as a person moving forward, whichever way the chips fell. At least he would have done the one thing we didn't see him do all show:

Ask for something for himself. Because he wants it. Not for the good of his family, or the team, or anyone else. Just for Ted.

I am not saying his son isn't the most important thing in his life. I am saying as a goddamn adult person, you can NOT mold your life around your kids. You can't. Full stop. It is not healthy. You put your kid's needs above your own, but as a parent your needs have to come second. You have to take care of your own emotional health so that you have the bandwidth to give them support. You have to set the example of what healthy boundaries and taking care of yourself looks like.

Could Ted make new social connections back in Kansas? Well that's the thing isn't it- season one Ted could have. Easily. Season three Ted? The one who's checked out and looks tired all the time and isn't even following his own motto anymore and didn't even cry like he'd miss his friends when he was leaving? I'm not sure about that Ted. I'm worried about that Ted. I'm worried he's going to put himself in a situation where for the next 9 years of his life his only priority is going to be keeping Henry happy by giving Henry the attention he never got from his own father. And after that? Henry's an adult. Henry has to go live his own life.

And Henry's going to be able to tell, by the way, if his dad is struggling. Whatever Ted's emotional health is like, Henry is going to pick up on it. This isn't a one way road. Kids notice.

Ted untangled himself enough to admit that what he wants is to be close to Henry. I commend that. But then he decided that there was only one way to do that, and he didn't look any further than that. The narrative didn't look any further than that. For a show that itself raises the topic of mental health, it feels tone-deaf to pretend that Ted moving away from his entire support group is a happy ending. He doesn't even have Beard!

So to summarize: what do I think about Ted? I think he's a fascinating character. I think he has a genuine kindness to him that is rare. I think he is flawed, and a little bent up on the inside, and he's got a lot of issues to work through. And I think the show did him a disservice by painting him going back to Kansas as a sign that everything was going to be okay.

[lesbianralzarek]

its a rule of fandom that any black companion in a video game is going to inspire posts dripping with white guilt explaining that theyre underdeveloped and that thats why its totally not racist when everyone ignores them

[ibrokeeverything]

I just started a rebels rewatch and I can't get over how touchy the ghost crew are. It's just constant reassuring or steadying hands on shoulders, kanan cuffing ezra on the head for being dumb, zeb shoving Sabine when she's being silly, hera laying a hand on chopper since he's family too.

It's making me insane and I'd kill to see stuff like this in more media!

[sonknuxadow]

it's kinda funny that some people seem to think eggman has a soft spot for kids or something because of his relationship with sage like have you guys not seen the way he interacts with 90 percent of the other characters in this franchise . hes constantly fighting with teenagers and little kids and putting them in danger he does NOTTTT care lmao

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Shigidi and the Brass Head of Obalufon

follows an unhappy nightmare god in the Orisha spirit company - the corporate structure of gods & spirits in the modern world who deal in prayers and belief

he meets a succubus who convinces him to go freelance, and they travel the world getting their own sustenance and building a relationship

but the elder gods aren’t finished with him, and he’s tasked with stealing an artifact from the British museum, with the help of a human magician from the succubus’ past

nonlinear storytelling

[thewatercolours]

King's Quest Fic: "The Fairy" (Goblin Graham, #12)

"Gwendolyn. What are you still doing in here? Didn't you hear the guards order everyone out? Can't you hear everything creaking?"

"Um - what? Sorry?"

"Something's wrong, cousin. The castle's shaking on its foundations. Has been since early morning. Something strange here, making it go unstable all of a sudden. You didn't notice? There's... Oh my stars. Gwendolyn! Did those bricks fall while you were in here?"

"Maybe? I didn't really notice. The mirror -"

"I know, I know, you were too busy watching the mirror. I mean, look! It's taken out a quarter of the ceiling? What would you have done if it had collapsed on your head? Look, we'll take the mirror with us, but we've got to get out! Did you even hear me?"

---

Perhaps it was the rich overground air, or the long hours spent escaping, or maybe the cold was more comfortable these days. Graham drifted off as easily as any sleeper could wish. As he blinked away his last moments of consciousness, he felt vaguely that he ought to toss and turn now that he’d been told of Manny and the goblins’ siege of the castle. Insomnia felt more responsible. But exhaustion smoothed his fears away before he could wake himself to make a plan. Three quarters asleep, he snuggled deep into his cloak between the roots of a burly yew. 

Mid-dream, something roused him. He rolled onto his right side, meaning to squint at the bedside clock in the castle’s royal chamber. Instead, he found himself eye to eye with a face, glowing blue as midwinter stars. The face giggled.

Untangling himself from the cloak, Graham yelped and scrambled to sit up, back against the tree.

The person before him was close to his own goblin size, and knelt to one side of him with a starry-eyed smile. Unnaturally lithe and dainty-featured she looked, just as he had always heard wood sprites described. He could not see much of her wings, but they appeared to be coolly golden and folded neatly behind her shoulders. Tittering musically, the fairy tapped the end of his nose with one shining finger, sending specks of light he could only just make out skittering over his skin. “Well, aren’t you the wee little goblin man! How precious!”  

Half awake and wholly thunderstruck, Graham could not choke a single word from his throat.

She took hold of his long ears. They twitched away reflexively, despite her gentleness. She laughed in gleeful surprise. “Awww! Did I make you flinch? I’ll be careful. You’ve got such big, swoopy, droopy ears, haven’t you? Yes you have, yes you have,” she crooned, reaching again to stroke them.

“Who are you?” whispered Graham, but his voice was even hoarser with sleep, almost nothing like speech. She did not seem to notice.

“A sleeeepy goblin, a tuckered out little goblin,” she went on, fondly rumpling his hair. Her hands were kind, but cool to the touch, even to his strange skin. And though it was hard to tell what she was doing, it appeared that every time she made contact, her hands glowed the brighter, just for a moment. “Oh, your pupils are so big right now! Great big eyes to see in the dark. What are you doing up here in the forest? A bit lost? Or were you just too dozy to crawl downstairs to your home? Are you a tiny bit scared?” she asked as Graham made another attempt to speak up. “Don’t be frightened, little friend. I know something that might make you happy.” She spread her luminous golden wings wide, and flapped them so that gleaming dust dropped in their wake. Her grin grew broader. “See that? I’m a fairy! Yes, you know all about us, don’t you? From your games?”

Graham straightened up where he sat, and cleared his throat pointedly. “For your information -”

Enraptured, she paid no heed. “Just look at you, though.Your little tummy, and your nubby little fangs, and those little pink… freckles…” A suspicious look flashed across her face. She poked an interrogative finger at his chin and cheekbones, considerably less gently. “Not freckles,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes. “You, good sir, have holes in your skin. Or growths, maybe. That’s human flesh, that is.” She sounded positively disgusted. “Or possibly mould. Comes to much the same thing.”

He had never demanded this of anyone, but enough was enough. “You,” said Graham firmly, “will call me ‘Your Majesty.’”

The fairy leaned back, looking him over from tuft to toe. She still smiled, but her merriment had changed to mockery. “‘Your majesty,’ eh?” she drawled. “A little king, eh? Look here. I happen to know the goblin king, and you ain’t him, sugarplum.”

“I’ve met him too,” said Graham with dignity, squaring his narrow shoulders. “I am the King of Daventry.”

A flicker of doubt passed over her, but she regained herself a moment later. “I don’t keep up much with politics, but even I know the king of Daventry is your standard, garden-variety human. Now, you,” she leaned in again and began connecting the dots on his face with her finger, “are just a goblin with human pimples. Ugh! They’re warm!”

He brushed her arm aside, frowning. “Look, I don’t particularly care if you believe me,” he said, mind whirring, “but if you don’t quit touching my face…” What could he say? “… you’re gonna be going home with spots yourself.”

The fairy recoiled, and turned from blue to something slightly closer to violet. “It’s catching?” she shrieked.

“Like a fishing line,” said Graham brightly. “Take the warning where I didn’t.”

The fairy backed off further and rubbed her hands off her sides, but there still seemed something unconvinced in her. “You’re very well-spoken for a goblin,” she said slowly. “Why did you say you’re the King of Daventry?”

“Because I am. I’m under a spell of sorts.”

“A spell. Oho.” She stroked her chin. “Well, that’s easier to check up on, isn’t it? All right, cupcake, on your feet.”  

“Oh, but my -”

Graham’s body parted ways with the forest floor. He rose three feet into the air, and tilted into a standing position despite himself. His dark hair billowed out as though he were underwater. Even his clothing did not drape in the ordinary way. His green wrists stuck out of his sleeve cuffs without the fabric touching them. His satin-trimmed cloak followed his trajectory up into the air, and then wandered gently and randomly like cream on a hot drink. “Hey!” he cried, throwing himself forward, hoping he could dive back to the ground. But he only found himself turning the slowest of slow-motion somersaults in the air. Head over heels he spun, groping for anything solid, but the fairy had lifted him into the middle of the clearing. Nothing met his grasp.

As he turned right way up, he came face to face with the fairy. She tapped his nose again, with just enough force that he lost momentum and didn’t fall into another somersault. “You know you go cross-eyed when I boop your nose?” She crossed her own eyes exaggeratedly. “Adorbs.”

He had no intention of using his claws on her, but this couldn’t go on. He glared and held up a warning finger. “I’m gonna have to ask you to put me down right this second, or this is going to be a diplomatic incident under Daventry Decree 90983.”  

“Yes, yes, that sounds fun. But now, let’s have a better look at you.” She twirled her finger playfully.

A mellow warmth kindled in Graham’s core, kind as hot soup and a blanket when you’ve just come in from the cold. It fanned out through him to the tips of his overlong toes and gnarled, spindly fingers. His eyes widened in shock, and he gasped. Gentle as fog melting off a window, his claws flattened and pulled back into themselves, and his fingertips softened into tender pink skin. 

The forest quieted. His vision dimmed, and the luminescent greens and purples of the night faded into a largely detail-less darkness.

Then he found himself laughing giddily as he changed and changed. He could hardly see a thing, but oh stars, could he feel it! He threw out his arms above his head as though he had just woken up, and stretched. Never had it felt so rewarding, for his arms actually stretched along with him. He could feel his spine and legs doing the same as that warmth spread through every inch of him. Meanwhile, his hands and bare feet shrank, growing less supple but so wonderfully familiar. And yet, remarkable in their unfamiliarity too. He flexed his goblin hand, and then his human hand, which hadn’t deserved that name in so long, marvelling at how new the sensation of closing his own fingers felt after only a few weeks. It all seemed so much more real than anything had since his transformation began. There was a clarity and quickness in his head that made him wonder how much his mind had been damped till now.

And his face, his face which he hardly ever dared touch, thawed into its true self. He ran his fine fingers over his great big nose, his cheeks, his eyelashes.  He knew every line. His fingers came away from his eyes wet with tears. He couldn’t help but smile through them, a smile full of the greatest gratitude he had known in his life. “Thank you,” he murmured, turning to the fairy, hardly able to see her through the mist in his eyes. “Thank you!”

His real voice.

She nodded, smiling wryly. “Well, I guess you are human.” Casually, she snapped her fingers.

Almost instantly, Graham’s whole body reverted. His arms and legs snapped back like stretchy putty released, and he lost half his height. His skin shuddered, rippling and goosebumping. The sensation was something like plunging into a freezing pool through a layer of algae. The warmth inside him extinguished. Then green, and claws, and long, floppy ears flattening against his neck. He plopped to the ground, landing gracelessly on his bottom. 

He hardly processed the jolt his ankle took when he made impact, or the forest’s restored brightness. She had turned him back. Back into a goblin. “What?” he growled, rounding on her and shaking with sudden fury. “Didn’t you see? Couldn’t you tell? I wanted to be myself again! I thought you were helping me!”

“Aww,” the fairy jeered, crouching down to the ground with him and tilting her head to one side. “Are we having a tantrum? Is that the king or the goblin side coming out, I wonder?”

“Turn me back,” he said sternly, stumbling to his feet. “I need to be human. My kingdom’s under attack as we speak. They need me.”

She rose and patted his cheek. Her touch only made him aware that his skin had curdled again. “Take it from me,” she said. “As a human, you’re not much to write home about. Better stick with the twitchy ears, little guy. You’re cute as a button.”

With a surge of ferocity, Graham snarled and shoved her backward. She squeaked and tripped over her own feet into a tall patch of bracken. He started forward angrily, unsure of anything but that he would make her understand the gravity of his situation. But with its customary unfortunate timing, his ankle buckled, and he sank to one knee, wincing and sucking his teeth to keep from snarling further. The voice of reason surfaced. Keep your head. Don’t give in to that side. Anything but that.

The fairy sat up and stared, her jaw hanging open. “Oh. Oh. Did I do that?” There was a long pause as they pulled themselves together. Then the first note of sympathy since her realization that he was human entered her voice. “I see you have a bad foot. Do you… do you want me to put you back up in the air a while longer?” “I’m fine. I’ll just sit down,” said Graham, leveling his voice and grabbing at a branch to support himself. He nearly pitched over. It was a flimsy evergreen, and it wobbled in his hand.

The fairy chewed her lip uncomfortably, and her hands glowed again, though he hadn’t seen her touch anything. “Okay.” 

In a moment, he was steady again. The same unseen power carried his legs out from under him. “None of that now!” he shouted, but he need not have worried. The magic set him down carefully in a seated position, propped up against a generous oak, and his foot elevated on a mossy stone.  

She settled herself on the farthest side of the clearing from him, folding her hands in her lap. “I don’t like seeing a little goblin hurting,” she mumbled, hanging her head and sounding a bit ashamed. “Even if they’re actually a human king.” She spoke more slowly. “I won’t touch your foot if you don’t want me to, but I’d like to make this better, if you’ll let me. I mean, not magically. But I could find food, or a change of bandages, or something.”

Graham took a deep breath, and pushed away the sneering, angry remarks he could have made. “I… am grateful you want to help me,” he said carefully. “But you would help me and my people a lot more if you worried less about my foot and more about the spell I’m under. You’ve already shown me it’s easy for you to break it. So…”

Yet again, she interrupted him, twiddling her thumbs and shaking her head with a doleful smile. “I think you’ve jumped to conclusions here, um… What’s your name?”

“Graham.”

“Graham. Mine’s Orri. Yeah. So, I didn’t break any spell just now. I just took a quick peek at your real form. It’s a pretty basic magical maneuver, and it doesn’t actually change anything.”

“Well, it certainly felt real,” Graham said, rubbing his ears.

“I guess it would. But it would have undone itself in a few seconds anyway. It’s just a peeling back of the magic for a moment to get a glimpse. It’s not a transformation.” Orri looked up and met his gaze with a disheartened shrug. “I couldn’t turn you into a human if I wanted to - not without a wish, and those are, um, pretty serious.”

“A wish?” Graham stiffened, and he stared at her fixedly. “You mean you could grant a wish?”

Orri heaved a sigh that was more sincere than anything she had said thus far. “Full truth here for a second? I’ve never done wishes before, exactly. Humans aren’t really my thing, if you couldn’t guess. I mean, technically I could probably do it. But it’s messy. Messy for you, messy for me. And give me another ten minutes and I won’t feel so bad about hurting your foot, and I’ll just be mad at you again for not being a real goblin.” 

Something crinkled in the corner of her eye. A new light came over her features, literally, and traveled all the way to the ends of her hair. “I mean, I suppose I could make you into a real goblin. That’s loads easier than going the other way ‘round, and it wouldn’t take a wish!” Orri's enthusiasm grew with every word. She practically bounced up and down where she sat.“Oh man. Oh man, I could totally handle that! We’ll just sand down your mind a bit, make a few simplifications …”

“Oh, no, no! That won’t be necessary,” stammered Graham. He forced himself to stay calm, trying to pull her back to her more collected state. “Er, ouch, my foot, my poor foot!”

But Orri  was back in full swing, already leaping into his personal space again. “Oh Graham, that would solve everything! Just a few tweaks in that little head of yours, and no more sad king. Your mother taught you all your nursery rhymes and fairy tales when you were a boy, I hope?”

“M-my sister, actually,  but that’s -”

“Then you’re ready! You’d be so happy. I mean, you could still be a little grumpypants if you wanted to. It’s not like they don’t get mad sometimes. But most of the time, they just act out stories, and make costumes and stuff. Not a care in the world.” Her fingers began to glow an intense white, and she wiggled them playfully in his direction. “Why don’t you just give me your hands, and I can - ”

In spite of his resolve to stay even-keeled, Graham started crawling backwards, crab style, trying to put the oak between himself and Orri. “Oh, I’m sure being a goblin is a real barrel of laughs, but um, I can probably help my kingdom better with my mind intact. So let’s just reroute and-” 

He cried out as she leapt, making a deft grab for his hand. Even before they made contact he could feel power surging from her fingertips like static, connecting with his.  Something vital in him wanted to grab hold of her hand and draw that energy in. But he wrenched himself away in a side roll, panting nervously as he came to a halt lying on his front. He tucked his hands under his stomach as she fluttered down beside him, the blue-white of her skin more intense than the fullest moon. Again, the instinct to use his claws came, but not only would that set him further down the goblinification track, probably, it would only give her access to his hands.

She clicked her tongue consolingly. “You know, little friend, your mind’s already changing to match your body. I took a peek at what you really are, remember?  You don’t have a duty anymore. That’s for humans. You couldn’t help your kingdom for much longer, anyway. Just give me your hands now. It’s just the human side of you being stubborn.” She prodded his side with her foot.

Graham swallowed and dug his fingertips into the patch of soft earth beneath him. “But if I can help them even for a bit, I’ve got to go for it. You said you technically could grant wishes. Can’t we try that first? Nothing to lose, right?” This felt utterly ridiculous, to fight a fairy by lying flat on the ground. But what choice did he have? To this overenthusiastic sprite, he was more or less just a cuddly puppy who was going to the vet’s, whatever he might think about the matter. What would he do if she flew him up in the air again, and he couldn’t hide his hands anymore? Play the world’s highest stakes game of ninja slap until she caught him?

Orri hunched over, and whispered in his enormous ear. “Graham, I don’t have ideas I can be proud of very often,” she said, almost confidingly.  “Just let me have this.” Then she seized his ear, and twisted it where it attached to his head.

“Augh!” It was more than he could stand. He didn’t have much understanding of goblin biology, but he did know that twist was about ten times more painful than he would have expected. Before he could think, he pawed wildly to yank his ear out of her reach, to pry her fingers free.

Her hand clasped his. She didn’t seem to care about the claws. She just held on tight, and twined her fingers through his. He felt the magic lock on to him.

Graham’s thoughts windchimed off each other, too fleeting to follow. His head grew light. She pulled him to his feet. The ground seemed to shake underfoot, but all that felt faraway. Everything outside himself was irrelevant, because it felt like his mind was turning inside out. Something surfaced in his head. Something dauntingly clever and complicated and warm and royal red, and everything in him knew it didn’t belong here in his head. He had to get rid of it now before it could struggle. But it hung on awfully hard as he tried to reject it. But here was something else, edging it out, filling his mind. Yes. Something. Pushing it out for him. Something… good. Something yes. Yes, yes. Something something something rum-tee-tum-tee-tum, yes yes yes. Oho, filling up the corners. Hehehehehehehehe! Yes yes yes!

And then ow! Ow! Hand gone. No more hand! No more yes! Rage! Not fair! Ow! Whack you! Whack you! Someone grabbing. Someone pulling him away. No more magic. Turning it all outside in again. Everything spilling over again. Maybe a touch of nausea - in his mind? If that made sense? Nothing made sense, but it was coming back. His feet weren’t touching the ground, but neither was he floating this time. There were huge, pudgy arms lifting him up. No, not arms. Gigantic fingers. 

Clarity shot through him. Olfie had him in his careful grasp, and the forest clearing below was a good twenty feet beneath him. Even with dark vision, Graham couldn’t see Orri anywhere. He craned his head back to look up at the bridge troll’s honest, hideous face. “Olfie!” he cried, overwhelmed with relief. “Oh, Olfie!” Olfie smiled, not without concern, lifting him up to look at him straight on. “You okay, King Goosie? Saw you were havin’ some fairy trouble down there. Did she try something?”

“No, I’m good.” Graham said, his chest still tense with stress but trying to let it go. His head bobbled on his neck and the world swam a bit, but fixing his eyes on Olfie’s face gave him a point of reference to stabilize from. “I think you didn’t arrive a moment too soon, though! Is she - did you see where she went?”

“Disappeared as soon as I got a hold on you.”

“Praise the consultations.” Graham muttered as Olfie propped him up in his palm. “I mean the consolati- no, the constellations. Sorry. She tried to mess with my head, and I might still be coming back from it.”

Olfie nodded, about as sagely as a troll could. “Gotta watch out for them. Always pulling tricks. One time they got Pillare thinking she was croissant, and you don’t want to hear how that went down at the meeting. Glad it’s all okay for you. So, I went and got them like you said. You ready for this?”

Graham tried to collect his disoriented thoughts. “You went and got who, now?”

“You told me to get them,” said Olfie. And before Graham could ask any further questions, the troll brought his two hands together - the palm where Graham leaned against his fingers, and the other - where to Graham’s astonishment, sat two of his royal guards, cross-legged in full uniform. Numbers One and Two. 

Number One gasped.

[osamid]

an interesting (unpopular? i think?) soukoku opinion i have is i don't think dazai was oblivious to his feelings towards chuuya, like ever. i understand WHY people interpret dazai as having trouble identifying and reckoning with his emotions; i'm not knocking it! there's plenty of evidence to suggest that and also i think it fits with his actions. HOWEVER. for me dazai is the most fun when he's deliberately suppressing and neglecting his own feelings. dazai realizes at the tender age of like 15 that he's at least infatuated with chuuya, and his first instinct is "well how do i compartmentalize that. how do i make sure this doesn't interfere with my plans and our job at the mafia." and then he compromises with his emotions by keeping chuuya close but not allowing himself to seem too affectionate or "trick" chuuya into liking him back. i think this version of dazai is most compelling to me because then the struggle isn't "get blockhead dazai to realize he's in/can love" its "get blockhead dazai to realize he's allowed to indulge in love" which is much more fun, especially when you have seven (or even more, i don't think this mindset would be limited to chuuya) years worth of distancing himself from his own emotions to contend with.

[skitskatdacat63]

This being Wikipedia's picture of Jenson for the 2009 season is insane, every time I open the page, I'm like "my god Jenson please, put your tits away 🫣" ALSO ALSO IM CRYING, I checked the pic's descrip and it's literally: "A very fit Jense", so true!!!

[youjustfeelthemforever]

Cried over an English test but hey I'm alive

[iniziare]

Muse Aesthetic / Feelings

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒.  being unable to stop smiling. laughter. bear hugs. happy tears. waving arms around. dancing. contently sighing. eyes twinkling. laughter lines. childlike playfulness. skipping. talking more. affection. cracking more jokes than usual. gesturing more when talking. higher pitched voice. squealing. jumping around. clapping.

𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒. tearing up. self-hugging. one-arm cross. an aching chest. scratchy throat. a runny nose. turning away. deep breaths. quivery smiles. crying. infantile sobbing. hands gripping each other or an object. covering mouth. puffy eyes. eyes appear red. voice breaking. a distant or empty stare. monotone voice. asking for comfort. faking a smile. crumbling. shaking. whimpering. depression. abusing an unhealthy habit (excessive training). withdrawing from others. big teary eyes. doing something even if it could hurt them.

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑. furrowed brows. baring teeth. passive-aggressive comments. avoiding eye contact. sarcasm. headache. sore muscles. hiding clenched fists. irritability. jumping to conclusions. raising voice. going silent. demanding immediate action. keeping it all in until exploding. body tensing. making risky decisions. middle finger.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑.  wanting to flee or hide. what-ifs. images of what-could-be flashing in mind. uncontrollable trembling. rapid breathing. screaming. a skewed sense of time. irritability. keeping silent. denying fear. turning away from the cause. pretending to be brave. nail-biting. lip-biting. scratching skin. a joking tone but a voice that cracks. fainting. insomnia. panic attacks. exhaustion. substance abuse. tics. rushing adrenaline. face draining of colour. hair lifting on the back of the neck. feeling rooted to the spot (!!!) making body as small as possible. staring but not seeing. crying. a shrill voice. whispering. gripping something or someone. stuttering. flinching at noises. pleading.

𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.  constantly yawning. blurring words together. dark circles or lines under eyes. mood swings. hallucinations. calling people by the wrong name. dizziness. denying they’re tired. slow blinking. trouble concentrating. stumbling. leaning on a doorframe for support. sluggish movements. falling asleep someplace that isn’t a bed. becoming irritated by the smallest things. “i’m awake, i’m fine.” shaking so bad they spill their drink. fall asleep in their clothes. lay their head on the table because they’re so tired.passing out.

Tagged by: @militus an age and a half ago 🤍 Thank you, I had fun! Tagging: /cracks knuckles. @sicsemper (Gee, I wonder who), @rcdfcxr (initially I wanted to request just Rufus, but I'm really interested in Reno as well, so both!), @inventorem (@aworldofyou because I don't know if you'll see this otherwise), @svnsworn (Jessie), @blitzrod, @tscng, @sentmail (I'm on the 'Lemme learn about Kunsel' train, shh), @lionfated (I've been missing Leon, pretty please), @annjiru (I also am on the Angael train still), @cwarscars (I need you to envision me as a koala very dramatically clinging to your leg), @spynorth (if you tell me you've done it already Lucas, it doesn't matter, do it again and again!), @trickstercaptain, @freedomhasfangs, @lighthouseborn (I can never have enough Henry Turner in my life, ever), @weaponiised, but also— @liifestreams (please give me Reeve, the novel is killing me slowly and he killed me a little). And anyone else? Steal it, I'm sure I've forgotten people and it's nothing personal whatsoever!

[just-an-enby-lemon]

While is very clear that love is the biggest feeling Cecil's has: for his comunity, for his friends, for his family, for radio, for life itself. His biggest motivator is fear.

His phobia of mirrors is actually the smallest of the traumas and fears his mother left him with. No, he is actually deeply afraid of being alone and even more afraid of not being liked. He is terrifield that someone- anyone - might not like him and with the exception of Telly, the Barber all his very petty hates (and I'm only talking about the ones that aren't clearly justified) happened as a defense mecanism because he wrongly assumed the person wouldn't like him and decided to attack first, to be the one who dislikes them instead and that's also why he is soo vocal about it: he needs everyone to know he is the one who has the hate or else they might think the other person hated him first and question why this happened and as a consequence start not liking him as well.

Is also why he over compensates after making peace with Steve, because deep down he knows Steve didn't forgive him, couldn't forgive him and he needs to change that, he needs to be liked (and that is why Steve pretends he forgave Cecil because he cares even if he is hurt and angry and Cecil's overbearing care is not helping and he knows that if he ever confronts Cecil over it either their truce will break or Cecil himself will break). Is why he tries to befriend even the most clearly evil people before going against them because what if everyone else likes this person and they decide to attack Cecil for not liking them. Cecil is absolutly terriefiled people will stop liking him and leave. Even his few fights with Carlos are about it.

It's a constant characther trait and a very interesting one to have.

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

i think i've finally come to understand why i'm so bad at communicating with friends 👍 at one point or another i've thought i was in love with every single person i've ever been friends with (for the most part, at least) because i don't expect other people to like me. OBVIOUSLY this is not true but platonic feelings are not dissimilar to romantic ones (baseline they're the same: you want to love and be loved by someone) but i always end up realizing that i'm not in love with them, just that they matter to me very much and i wouldn't know what do to w/o their presence in my life. BUT this brings me to facet number 2 of my awful communication skills: i hate it when things Get Real. i find myself retreating any time it seems like Something Could Change in my day-to-day life due to them being around and "forcing" the change. i run away from talking to one of my only irl friends on almost a daily basis bc i dread the idea of having to do anything she might want me to do. i think, at the end of the day, my problem might just be that i don't want to change... ANYWAYS

[lesbiancarat]

sometimes i randomly remember that instead of 'cute, innocent, funny guy' jun's fandom-assigned archetype used to be 'narcissistic fuckboy' back until like 2018ish 🧍‍♀️