theres too many pokemon games where you play as a kid whos full of life and full of potential. there needs to be a pokemon game where you play as a college dropout who lives in a shitty apartment
your starter pokemon are trubbish, rattata and glameow. which symbolise the trash you keep forgetting to take out, the rats living in your walls and the stray cat you keep trying to befriend but it keeps hissing at you.
you guys dont get it its not supposed to be dark and edgy its supposed to be living in a mundane setting and slowly rediscovering the wonder in the world by going on a journey with a magical trash bag that is your friend, its about love and recovery and coping with the stress of your adult life with your friend who is made of sentient garbage
Literally immediately after reblogging this to correct it I went "wow, it has a reblog already?" And got all the way to checking my notifs before I realized. That it was me.
I'm gonna start slowly posting memes I've made for this fandom onto this site. Drip feeding it so to speak, because I love the attention. If I get any.
there’s sixteen Colorado counties that their most searched was “wolf furry”, plus thirty-odd counties (not counting either Arapahoe or any of the ones marked here as “Insufficient Data”) which may well have had plenty of searches for “wolf furry”, just fewer than for whatever they’re labeled here
and “skunk furry” searches in Arapahoe County outnumbered “wolf furry” searches in the entire state of Colorado
what ralsei does with her hands is so important to me
call it a pattern more than a hard rule - but often, whatever's desperate enough to be expressed finds its way into the hands. thought, coalescing into action. affection, pooling into touch. fear, stalling into hesitation.
which may well be why i'm so fascinated by the way ralsei stows hers at the back
kept like that, they're removed from the situation - too far back to reach or interfere, merely ever cinching around what was antecedently given
ralsei is the ultimate embodiment of hands tied.
the prophecy's "prince" from the dark, meant only to assist and interpret, never to do. then comes chapter 5, and - SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT! -
suddenly... her hands are everywhere...?
her hands help when she wants them to and clench when she doesn't
her hands twine with kris', guiding them both through a puzzle she would've ordinarily waited to see solved first
her hands push flowery away
they swat at him, also!
her fingers pluck up the drink vouchers, eyes gleaming at her favorite among them
they help themselves to a bit of cheese, purely on a whim of taste
her palms cast an offensive spell for susie, instinct overriding a lifetime of learned passivity
and... loveliest of all... her hands fall naturally to her sides. loose and comfortable. tasked with nothing whatsoever, only where they happen to be.
in the wake of it all, ralsei kneels by the water, palms pressed together, praying like begging, begging like praying - doggedly convinced this is the far shore of who she can be.
and if the water answers at all, it does so with a reflection. one whose hands protected and defied. the change plain to any with eyes.
…you'd think a prophecy would know a better knot than that, wouldn't you?
ralsei's none the wiser. ask her, and she'd vehemently insist she can't alter a thing - least of all herself. but why ask at all? just take a gander at those mitts; they tell you plenty.
save some faith and belief for yourself, too, princess
origamiaround
titsay
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
turnnoffyourmind
gracieabrams
blakekathryn
amandla
