mustardsprite

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when you cook for everyone and they tell you how much they like the food

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Gale's emotion flow in Act 1 (and I love him)

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jeeves, fetch me the cool, wet washcloth – my weird emotions about being creative have returned

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Whatever you do, don’t think about Gale’s experience the night he tried to offer that sliver of Weave to Mystra.

Don’t think about young Gale excited, hopeful that his goddess will finally see him as more than a mortal lover, holding the artifact with reverence.

Don’t think about the jolt of joy as the book opened, only to be overtaken instantly by the terrible, crushing feeling that something was wrong.

Don’t think about the Netherese Weave tearing relentlessly through his chest, blinding him with agony as he convulses, crumpling to the ground, stricken with awareness that he was dying, being unmade.

Don’t think about the apologies from a torn throat, screaming, begging incoherently to Mystra, to anyone, to help him, to end this torture.

Don’t think about Tara returning home to find her beloved Mr. Dekarios shattered on the floor of his study, lying in his own blood, half lucid, his veins pulsing with malevolent magic, unable to move.

Don’t think about him sobbing and nearly vomiting from pain when Tara tries to move him to the bed, his body ravaged.

Don’t think about it being days before he can sit up on his own, weeks before he can walk unassisted, months before he can cast basic spells without collapsing.

Don’t think about Tara having to feed him because his hands shake too violently to hold the spoon.

Don’t think about a constant hungry aching in his chest, limbs that won’t cooperate, permanent, chronic pain, a shredded voice that still calls to Mystra in desperation as she lets her Chosen, her lover, rot alone.

Whatever you do, don’t think about that.

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MY BOYS

I'm still on my bullshit, so have the Gatorland boys. Inspired by @mustardsprite's See Ya Later, Alligator and an ancient picture of Steve and Terri Irwin.

If you haven't yet experienced Gatorweave, it answers an important question we've all had: "What if Gale Dekarios were a Florida Man?"

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sometimes thinking abt all the gaming youre gonna do later is what gets you through the workday and then you get home and do no gaming. not even a little bit of gaming

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Night encounter in Yellowstone National Park-Michael Block

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we must defeat the netherbrian

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Grandpa gator and his rowdy grandsons

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i love every single person who has ever commented on my self-indulgent talky-ass fanfic in which anxiety is a discrete character and they barely touch each other or communicate. i am kissing all of you on the forehead and making you dinner and dessert and you can sleep over if your parent or guardian says it's okay

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watch out

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Crocodile

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happy father's day i can't wait to write my dead dad/dying dad fanfiction later

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hello people who had complicated relationships with their now dead fathers. how are we feeling today?