#“I need a mental break”

[ll-but-its-random]

Sometimes I just think of how it was for Five between FoT and UaO. With the others trying to make sure he doesn't escape and him knowing damn well he can but just.. not doing it.

Tied him with a rope? Untie it with telekinesis.

In one of those prison vans with several guards? Turn to metal and bust out.

In a confinement room? Slam into somebody to break the door.

[inkskinned]

i wrote an interactive poem for my girlfriend in 3 parts. she said you need to read it.

go here: take only the final quiz or take all 3. i don't mind. it's sad, though. this is a poem about choice. about fate and mental illness and how love fits inside of all of it. this is a poem about a long dark hallway. mostly this is a poem about mango sushi rolls.

good luck. i love you. despite it all, i'm hopeful.

[wolfwarrior142]

Aaravos with his first child: *loves her so deeply, profoundly devastated for a century after she's unfairly killed, causes chaos for centuries after*

Aaravos with his second child: Fuck this little freak lol

[s0fter-sin]

something people just don’t think about is how often chronically ill and disabled people just don’t have access to good food. not healthy food, good food; well made, tasty meals that don’t come from a jar or a freezer. how many of us are housebound or can’t drive? delivery services only offer within certain distances, if you live outside a city they aren’t an option. many people don’t have the energy or ability to cook for themselves if they have the skill to begin with. many certainly don’t have the ability to learn how. it’s something that goes completely unnoticed, just the opportunity to have a good meal and how much that wears you down

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

hope you feel better soon!

I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!

[that-satireguy]

Please be normal.

Just for a second.

I have a raging headache.

I'm about 3 seconds aways from passing out.

Just.

Please be normal.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 322

Danny squints up at the slightly older realms being, even if technically he’s older in human-age. The Chaosling is practically vibrating in place, the massive realms feline peering out from over their shoulder. Huh. So this is his Clockwork-assigned babysitter-cousin? 

He didn’t know how to feel about the whole suit thing, but well, he won’t say no to a good prank. C’mon Cujo, they’re going to the daycare dimension-place!

[karinadele]

TFP S1 EP1

[sodapopper]

TW: // death, implied suicide

-

There were seven of them, bruised and shining, electricity under their skin. Boys; young enough to shake the world, futures unexplored, untainted, unwritten. They were buddies. They fought together, bled together, loved together. The streets echoed with their laughter and the sky wept for their tears.

There were seven, and then…

Johnny Cade was the best of them—that’s why he went first. He died in a fire, but was doomed long before Windrixville, before the fountain or the knife or the blood gushing over his hands. Nothing gold can stay. Johnny was more golden than any of them, burned up in a blaze of glory.

Then there were six.

Dally, vice and violence, backed into a corner. He couldn’t imagine a future, couldn’t see himself on the other side of the fight. Desperation drove him to it. Sorrow kept him going. Just a scared kid, bleeding out under the streetlights, a bullet in his chest. Just a kid, after all. Nothing more.

Then there were five.

Soda, beautiful Sodapop. He laughed when he got the draft notice. “Grease goes international,” he said, all jokes, untamed and untamable, too wild to see death written in the words. Reckless, sensitive Soda, who hugged his brothers tight and raced off to war with a chuckle and a grin, hair wild in the wind. The last thing they saw of him was that smile—they weren’t even given a body to bury.

Just like that, there were four.

Two-Bit never wanted much from life. A drink and a laugh, a smoke and a fight. Good food, good company. A pretty face by his side. Two-Bit had no goals outside of Tulsa, no dreams beyond each passing moment. They found him in an alley. The bottle still in hand, like a murder weapon. Alcohol poisoning, the doctors said. Two-Bit drank his life away; he had no reason to grow old.

There were three.

Steve simmered in his anger until anger was all he knew. Years passed, the tireless slog, every day the same: he wakes with rage held tight in his fists, holes in his wall, dents in the door. Work until his palms bleed grease. Home again, where a family should have been, where the absence of parents burns a hole through the carpet, where his anger coils like a noose. He sleeps, and dreams of Sodapop, beautiful beneath the sky. One day, he doesn’t wake at all. The pill bottle beside his bed, refilled only the day before, lays discarded on its side: empty.

Now there’s two.

Darrel lives a long life. He made his peace with what could have been, a version of the future never meant for him. That part of himself, laid to rest long ago. People cast him pitying glances, think washed out has-been Darry Curtis but his back is broad and his skin is thick, impenetrable. “I’d do it again,” he says, holding his baby brother’s—his last brother’s—hand, as the monitors beep around them, antiseptic in the air. Their hands are wrinkled now. Their faces faded. “Every moment was worth it,” he says, old and sick but still burning with that secret strength he never lost, not even in the hardest times. “For you. For our brother. I’d do it again.”

The jagged line goes flat. The beeping stills. His hands are cold, but even still, strong. The hands of a laborer. The hands of love.

One.

One goes home. Cane, limp, faded sight, grey hair. He climbs the worn porch steps, presses his fingers to the doorway and blesses the wood. The halls of that house are haunted. He hears voice, trapped like a smell in the carpet, the plaster. There is the sofa where vagrant boys found refuge. The dent where Soda’s elbow hit the wall too hard. The scratches from Dally’s knife, a name carved into trim. There is the coffee stain, Darry’s, a full mug dropped. The table where Steve arm-wrestled anyone and everyone.

There is the drawing little Johnny Cade gave to a mother not his own, who hugged him closer than his ever had. It’s still taped to the fridge, brittle and yellow, the faded pencil lines impossible to make out. He’s drawn a family. A gang of boys. Seven.

Now there is one.

Ponyboy Curtis. The last of them, the best. He stands on the threshold of everything they had to give. He holds their love like a beacon inside, trapped where the eyes don’t see, where the hands can’t touch. He is the monument of their combined greatness; he is a patchwork quilt of all their best parts.

They were children once, running free, dirt on their faces and grease in their hair. Those children never made it out of Tulsa. They were never meant to.

Doomed by the narrative, some say, born to fail and suffer and be broken.

But they were children, once.

Ponyboy Curtis strokes the faded photographs on the walls. His gnarled hands touch unblemished faces, a snapshot of time, gap-toothed smiles, unbowed shoulders, messy hair.

They were children, once.

“We were happy.”

[h0use-fly]

custom for a mutual

[kaiserouo]

never touched 2077 nor watched edgerunners but god i WANT them

god fucking bless

[milkbreadtoast]

doodle... the cutie big bro protags ^^

[literal-fiction]

Anyone who is going around saying that we shouldn't vote or should vote for a third party (which is why Trump won the first time and could be why he wins again) is getting blocked on sight at this point for the sake of my fucking mental health.

Many of you are too young to but I REMEMBER this exact same discussion happening in 2016 ON TUMBLR and it was that attitude that got Trump elected! It was that attitude that got those three conservative judges put on the Supreme Court. It was that attitude that got Roe v. Wade overturned.

If you chose to ignore the threat of Project 2025, it will be your fault when it happens. It will be your fault when a nationwide abortion ban is put in place. When women (especially pregnant black women who already have more than twice the mortality rate of pregnant white women) are dying it will be your fault. When trans people are stripped of their rights and commit suicide at even higher rates because they're trapped in a country where they're not allowed to be themselves it will be your fault.

And if you don't think or don't care that Trump is worse than Harris: you are wrong.

[fumifooms]

Chilchuck analysis speedrun: As a hardworking half-foot who grew up poor and discriminated against and had his gullibility taken advantage of multiple times in his early adventuring days, Chilchuck thinks optimism is a dangerous flaw. He’s stressed and strict all the time because his job is noticing details like traps that could get everyone killed before anyone knows it, he takes the lives of everyone to be on his shoulders, and with the way he speaks about it that probably partly reflects how he felt about taking it upon himself to provide for his family too. His life’s always been pretty centered around work and has become even moreso now that his wife left and everyone is independent, and due to past events he’s very iffy with bonding with coworkers. He thinks feelings and job are a disaster mix. Like with his wife or with parties hiring him as sacrifice, being open or having good faith is vulnerability which can get you hurt, so he processes and shows all his stress as anger instead of worry. Doing strict dieting probably isn’t helping the irritability what with hunger, and on top of being a hunger suppressant alcohol might be the main stress reliever he has.

His grey hairs are so earned

[90ekz]

across the map.

☾ summary: usually onyankapon likes to keep his face shaven and sleek, but once he notices how you can’t keep your eyes off his new facial feature, he has other plans.

☆ tags: black fem reader, chubby reader, facial hair kink (??? idk man), sub!ony for like 2 seconds, overstimulation, porn w small plot, teasing, creampie, p in v, liberal use of “ma” & “mama”, mention of pregnancy, not proofread, vaginal fingering, onyan & y/n are roommates in college, business major onyan <3

♡ a/n: sorry for being gone so long, i’ve literally been so busy 😭😭, but thank y’all for 500 followers !!! the support means the world to me.

it wasn’t even intentional.

onyankapon had gotten so busy with his classes overseas that he’d slipped up on his weekly shave. he typically didn’t grow facial hair very fast anyway, but all of a sudden his goatee was sprouting like weeds.

he couldn’t figure out why, until he’d locked eyes with the facial serum connie had gifted him for his birthday. dumbass.

in theory, onyankapon should’ve already shaved it. he told himself that he wouldn’t do it the night before his flight, but he really didn’t have time to keep up with that promise.

and he was lazy.

onyankapon tried to ignore it, but everytime he went to touch his face he was reminded of it, and it just made him cringe. he was finally going home to you tomorrow, and he wanted to look perfect for his baby.

when he’d left home three weeks ago, you were so sympathetic and understanding about the lack of time you were gonna have to talk but still a bit somber, knowing your conversations would be reduced to good morning & good night texts.

now, he stood over his hotel room sink, attempting to both not fall asleep and shave at the same time.

it wasn’t working.

“fuck it. not even finna do allat,” he just flicked the bathroom light off, knowing had a long flight in the morning and it was already nearing one in the morning. he just hoped you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable with his stubble.

the next morning, onyankapon felt his lips curl upward when he received a million texts of you being so giddy about him coming home.

sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: BAE

sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: OMG BABY UR COMING HOME 2DAY

sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: HAVE A GOOD FLIGHT BABY ILYSMMMM

the whole flight home, all onyankapon could think of was your plush lips against his and that round ass that he would inevitably be fondling soon. the woman next to him probably thought he was a psychopath from the way he was randomly giggling to himself.

walking off the plane and eventually into the baggage pick up area where he finally saw your face for the first time in almost a month, onyankapon was overwhelmed.

the way your face lit up when you saw him, your body in that pretty little skims dress, god.

he felt like he was in love again for the first time.

you threw yourself into his arms and he was just as excited to see you, but he couldn’t help but kneed the fat of your ass as you kissed him senseless.

“have some shame, we’re in public.”

“can’t help it. my sweet lil’ thing, i missed you…” you gasped as he gripped your ass once more, but not for the reason he thought you did. your eyes had finally zeroed in on his newly bearded face, and you couldn’t help the ache that suddenly appeared downward.

you never saw onyankapon’s facial hair, or rather, he never even gave you the opportunity to see it. as soon as you jokingly commented on how his stubble was tickling you, he was in the bathroom with the door locked while the clippers released a small whirring sound in the background.

you’d always been curious. you liked a lil goatee here and there, but it was never a major turn on or anything.

but on your nigga? yeah, you needed him bad.

he wet his lips as he peered down at you, even giving you a peek of his shiny diamond grill as he smiled at you. you trailed behind him slightly as he led you to your car, trying not to stumble from the heartbeat down below.

“shiiii, slut me out.”

“whatchu say, ma?”

“nun! cmon boy, you walk slow.”

onyankapon let his hands wander the whole drive home. on your thigh, rubbing against your nipples, even rubbing small circles onto your clit at one point.

you two barely got into the house before onyankapon was caging you against the wall and attacking your neck with his teeth. all you could hyperfocus on was the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin.

your hand snaked to rub the sweet spot on his neck, smiling to yourself as he turned to putty. he smiled into your neck, his own hands wandering under the seam of your dress. his eyebrows jumped upward at your wetness.

“fuck.. all this for me mama?” you nod weakly as he immediately pushes two fingers knuckle deep into you, already knowing that you’d been preparing yourself for when he got home.

any words this man was saying to you were barely making it into your ears. anytime onyankapon spoke, you were immediately drawn to his lips and chin, and just how mature he looked.

it was almost sophisticated.

“been gone for so long and you won’t even focus on me. makin’ me sad, baby.” onyankapon breathed out, still a bit in disbelief that you were finally in his arms again. his fingers worked an almost melodic rhythm inside of your cunt, while his palm kept your clit company.

“more—fuck, onyyy,” you couldn’t help but whine out louder as his stubble scratched against your neck once more. the scratch only added to the knot threatening to burst in your stomach.

“shit, get these off mama.” onyankapon tugged at your dress and the panties underneath, silently begging you to get rid of them.

“you nasty.”

“you want me to make you nut or nah?” you just smacked your lips and removed your dress. his eyebrow quirked when you didn’t immediately take off the panties and bra accompanying it, but he dropped to his knees nonetheless.

you shivered at his warm breath ghosting against your clothed pussy. he continued to lap and lick at you, leaving a heavy feeling in your gut.

yet you still wanted more.

you wanted more for the sole purpose of feeling his chin hair scratch and rub against your pussy, your neck, all over you, wherever he wanted.

“c-can you—fuck!” onyankapon just smiled at you, already knowing what you wanted him to do, all you needed to do was beg for it. he just continued his skillful movements, just wanting to tease you for a little longer.

“what can i do for you, my love?”

onyankapon struggled to conceal his laugh, because he expected that you wouldn’t beg to him, not without a lot of coaxing that is.

what he didn’t expect was for you to slip your panties down while he wasn’t looking and stuff his face nose-deep in your cunt without warning. his eyes grew wide as you started shamelessly fucking his face, while he struggled to not choke on his own moans.

between your essence dripping down his chin, the grip on the back of his neck and your whines, onyankapon’s cock found itself getting much stiffer much quicker than he anticipated.

every bump of your clit against his nose against his nose sent a zap to his dick. he just sat and took it, his grip on your thighs tightening so much that he started to wonder if he was gonna break skin.

sex with ony’ wasn’t usually this rough, but three weeks away from each other had your bodies screaming the second you came together again. he really didn’t know how you’d react to seeing him again, but he hadn’t considered that you’d be this dominant.

neither did he think about how much he’d like it.

you pulled him away suddenly, presumably so he could catch his breath. onyankapon could swear that you were talking to him, but his mind was completely gone.

“‘m sorry, mama. ‘shouldn’t have done it, just lemme please you.”

before you could respond, his tongue was roughly digging you out, his grip on your waist being the only thing keeping you on earth. he didn’t stop licking until you’d cum on his tongue twice and were begging him to stop.

“ooh, ony—too much..”

he barely cared, making that known as he continued to press kitten licks to your sensitive hole.

“hey—boy are you even listening to me?” onyankapon gave you a stank look as you pushed him away with your foot. you couldn’t help but laugh at how badly this nigga wanted you.

“i wasn’t done.” suddenly you were being flipped over and onyankapon’s thick cock was laying against the skin of your stomach. he looked just about ready to rip you apart.

he gave your clit a few taps before pushing home, the action making your eyes roll back. he didn’t hesitate to slam himself into you roughly back to back, the meat of your ass slamming against his balls.

onyankapon began to kiss on your neck, and smirked into the crook of it when he felt your cunt spasm around him.

“missed you so much ony—needed t-this..”

“fuck, missed you so much more.. such a good girl…” his thrusts only sped up as you whined his name louder and louder with each kiss his cock placed against your cervix. his grip on your waist was tight enough to leave bruises, as he latched onto you like he was afraid you’d slip away from him.

without any warning, onyankapon strokes his fingers against your clit, and your losing your mind while cumming on his cock. he just coos at you, wondering what he did to deserve you. the overstim quickly sets in though, and you’re not-so quietly begging him to slow down.

“shhh, i know you can give me one more ma, i know you can…”

‘one more’ turned into two, three, and eventually four drawn out orgasms, all sprayed onto onyankapon’s lower abdomen. fuckin’ liar. “mmhm, want me to nut in you mama? want this mini-me in you, yeah?” all you could do is nod weakly as he pumped you full, his thrusts finally slowing. your eyes cracked open to see him smirking down at you while he languidly stroked your cheek to make sure you were still with him.

“you so cute. you still with me?”

“mmm.”

onyankapon just smirked as he got some things to wipe you up with. after a few minutes, you finally started to sit up and recover, only to get an immediate attitude with him.

“i can’t believe i let you nut in me,” you mumbled as he turned on the newest episode of General Hospital. he just laughed at you, not being worried considering you’re on birth control.

“you’re so into the beard, you woulda begged me to anyway.” you just scoffed before walking to the bathroom to pee, knowing that he was right but not wanting to admit it.

“i was not.”

[prince-kallisto]

In regards to the Crowley-Raverne theory, theories related to amnesia or memory magic are quite popular: usually revolving around the mask Crowley wears. It does make sense, since it’s such a unique part of his design that is never removed or hardly even mentioned. And now, there’s even more mystery regarding Crowley, as there are question marks for his age, birthday, birth place, and student club. Is it out of mystery? Or does he simply not know himself?

However, there are these particular lines from Book 6 that make me think there’s a different possibility (heavily related to this past Raverne-Styx theory I wrote. Lmao literally just saying the same thing just from a different angle)

How does Idia, and STYX, know so much about how the River Lethe work on fae? Knowledge and certainty of the sciences take countless trials and errors, often from the result of unethical experimentation. STYX as of the modern day is presented as a rather positive and somewhat ethical group, but I don’t believe that’s always been the case with the organization.

What we know: the River Lethe can work on fae as powerful as Malleus Draconia. The Lethe needs to be adjusted for fae. If not, it can erase information that long-lived fae would be expected to know

Did STYX have an incident in the past that tampered with a fae’s memories so much, that it had to change how STYX approached the River Lethe system? Did they accidentally erase the memories of a powerful fae- to the point of erasing his entire identity?

STYX and the Shroud Watchmen have been around since the Age of the Gods- even the Draconia family is well aware of their grand influence. They were around during the Briar Land era. And in the era of the Silver Owl’s, humans from other countries were able to get in through the human ports by Cape Sunrise.

Raverne wasn’t the only fae to disappear to the Eastern Fortress/Citadel to deliver Meleanor’s letter- which is NEAR the coast. Team and after team of envoys disappeared without a trace. Not even a sign of their deaths remained in the land, not a mention from the gloating Silver Owls. Were they kidnapped by a third party?

Wen you look at Book 6’s Phantom enemies, we can see foes referencing ONLY monsters from Hercules, and other villains from unmentioned films like the The Sword in the Stone or Robin Hood. But…? The one exception: soldiers resembling Maleficent’s goons, clad in armor and all. Did these phantoms originate from Briar Land soldiers that STYX kidnapped?

Now that the modern day STYX and the Draconia family are on relatively decent terms, having worked together to quell Malleus’ Overblot, how would this relationship fare if it was discovered that STYX had heinous origins? 👁️👁️ If STYX had tampered with not only one of the Draconia royals, but with Malleus’ father himself? It’s a faint possibility that I’m curious by, because this amicable partnership feels almost too good to be true…

Something else that caught my attention was when General Lilia mentioned both Meleanor and Raverne to us in the dream world. When Grim asks who Meleanor is, Sebek is quite outraged! Everyone should know who Meleanor is as the former princess of Briar Land- despite her passing centuries ago.After all, Sebek has read countless of books about Briar Valley's history! He also mentions his grandfather, Baul, has told him a lot of stories about the war time.

But when Lilia mentions Raverne BY NAME, Yuu and crew assumed he was a separate person from the Draconia family. Raverne's role revealed as the Dragoneye Duke, Malleus' father, and as Meleanor's HUSBAND though...even Sebek looked surprised. Did Baul never tell him? Does almost no one remember who Raverne is 👁️👁️