#i had a BLAST that session

[kidovna]

How howww do you render folds so well digitally?! Your art as me in a chokehold I swear I study it every time u post something new! The Doctor fan-art dress ahhhh!

!!! thank you, this is the biggest compliment 😭💗 I think the more i’ve been observing it i’ve just retained an understanding of how cloth looks like when folded. that being said, there are definitely time i mess it up spectacularly haha

[ryanthel0ser]

Star ~ Colde

[jessicas-pi]

Some people kill their darlings. Me, personally? I mortify my blorbos. sounds like a very interesting fic that would probably vaporize me with secondhand embarrassment easily, so im very curious about it

YEEEHAAA

Okay okay so this scene, which I have temporarily dubbed In Which Tristan Steals Half A Letter And Mandalorian Sibling Rivalries Get A Little Violent, is from the very beginning of Paint Bombs, Pixie Cuts, And Elopement, and it is only the first of MANY increasingly mortifying situations!!

---

Sabine had been so distracted, she hadn’t realized she was no longer the only person in her library.

Tristan had breezed in, settled down in her abandoned spot on the lounge, and picked up the letter from Ezra.

��Hey! That’s personal!” she snapped, jumping up and snatching it from him.

Her brother looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

“What does that mean?”

Sabine stomped back over to her desk and sat down, pulling out a second sheet of paper. “It means that it’s my business, not yours.”

“As your older brother, I think it is my business. After all, you’ve been sending a concerning amount of letters to him, and you won’t let anyone else see his replies.”

“Because it’s personal,” she repeated, not bothering to explain that out of the last six letters she’d sent, he only bothered to reply to the last one, and not very nicely, either.

“Which is exactly why we’re all worried.” She hunched her shoulders and focused on writing.

She was a few paragraphs in when he spoke again. “And it looks like I was right to be worried, because this, little sister, is a pretty compromising letter.”

Sabine blinked, bewildered. “Compromising?” She turned around in her seat and let out a furious cry. That letter—it had had two pages, and Tristan must have let her only snatch the first page without her noticing, because he had the second one in his hand now. “Tristan!”

“Oh, yes, very compromising. I quote—” He held up the letter and read aloud. “It was so nice of you to use all those tender words in your last message to me—have you been writing love notes?”

What she had been writing was a horribly rude letter where she called Ezra every name she could think of, and he’d got sarcastic over it in his reply, which Tristan had to know because the next sentence of that letter was a few of those phrases quoted, but he was apparently being a very selective reader now.

So, Sabine didn’t explain, and just stood, clenching her jaw. “Give me that, and get out of my library.”

He just reclined on the lounge, grinning and kicking his feet up. “You know, I’ve had a few… ah… romantic escapades, in my time. I can be trusted with a secret. So confide in me. Exactly what sweet nothings have you been writing to your adoring Prince?”

“Give it to me and get out, Tristan!”

“Should I make some guesses?” Tristan asked, jumping to his feet to avoid the sofa pillow she hurled at him. Sabine followed him, advancing slowly, fists clenched. “I bet he sends you long letters about his earnest and eternal love, and you send him back coquettish garbage acting like you don’t understand anything he says, so he’ll say it to you again.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped, snatching at the sheet of paper that he held away from her.

“Oh, no, it happens all the time. I’ve fallen for it myself. I still have the letters I got from my old sweetheart when I was your age, if you need proof. Or reference materials for the next time you write—I’m sure the little minx wouldn’t mind you borrowing a few of her shameless hints for your own flirtation.”

“It’s not a flirtation!”

“My bad,” Tristan sang, dodging around a chair so it was between the two of them, and moving side to side in time with her to keep it that way. “But in my defense, I had no idea you and he were serious.”

“We’re not!”

“When did you two first get an understanding?”

“We don’t have one!”

“Now that I look back—this all started last summer, when we were in Jedha, didn’t it? He must have been trying to win your heart then, and I can only assume you strung him along for weeks like the sadistic little witch you are, before you gave in.”

She cursed at him, no longer cold from the drafty walls but so warm she felt like she was crawling out of her own skin. She didn’t know if it was from the excitement of finally getting the letter, the heat of the fire, or the flustered burning in her face, and she didn’t really care.

“I may regret asking this,” Tristan said without a trace of regret, whatsoever, at all, in a million years. “But how did ol’ Prince Di’kut manage to woo you? Did he act gallant and noble and play at courting you? Or was this a…” Tristan wiggled his eyebrows and leaned in to whisper, momentarily dropping his guard. “A passionate-midnight-meetings sort of affai—”

Sabine’s fist connected with his nose.

[happyhyenaminis]

any battletech enthusiasts have a favourite novel/s they'd recommend? 👀

[melanin-ticklequeen]

Had a hangout/ tickle session with @txtickles last night and it was SOO MUCH FUN!! Not only was it nice to hang out & smoke with someone I’ve been wanting to see for almost a year, but also being a witness to his amazing teases & t wording skills 🙈🫠

He is a kind and true gentleman, and hopefully we get to meet up soon again 🥰💗

[swamp-tastic]

Gotta say, my favorite part of dnd yesterday was absolutly tormenting Avareen.

The most intimdating fairy ever showing up at your door, together with a giant dragonborn cleric barbarian, who proceed to teleport after her to her hidden torture room. And when she tries to escape through the window, the monk pierces through the window, grows to giant size and claws his way towards her.

[geekiemire]

To the sundering art party thank you all for making the end of the cloud server the best it could have been. Genuinely brought tears to my eyes may we meet again as other wols

[six-improbable-things]

DMing the end of my "oneshot" tomorrow (only a whole month later), and I really really hope it goes as well as I want it to. I mean, I know everyone in the party is great and I trust them all and I know they'll be kind to me. I'm just hoping that I genuinely make it as fun as I know it has the potential to be.

And I'm also excited to potentially start plotting my next oneshot!! I am exceptionally bad at organization so DMing takes a TON of effort for me, but I really really really do love it. My ultimate goal is to DM a campaign someday, but I know I'm nowhere near ready for that. But I'll keep practicing and keep getting better and someday I will give it a shot.

[sastiel-is-my-serotonin]

Why were all my dream segments so vivid?

I'm just going to talk about the one that took me out the most and is the least personal.

I was at a convention, and they were showing new upcoming shows and movies. To everyone's surprise there was a movie for Supernatural.

There was a trailer where it starts as Jensen and Misha talking, seemingly an old video, and out of nowhere Jensen pushes Misha who falls and within that fall, it cuts to Sam and Castiel falling together and Sam asking Cas, "Are you okay?" and panning to a shot of the big bad.

It clicked then that it was a trailer so huge gasps throughout, and the rest of the trailer plays. We thought that was the biggest surprise until Jensen, Jared, Misha, and Alex all in unison said, "We're back." And they were on stage ready to answer questions.

They answer some as a group but then people start getting divided into different groups, some go watch and talk with Jensen, others Jared, same with Misha and Alex.

I was put in Jared's group and he decided to ask the audience some questions, and his main one was, "What's a moment, a day, or a week, month, year, where you've had to just take a deep breath because it was all too much." A lot of people answered and quite honestly, it felt like a therapy group or something, but this fucker turned to me and asked me, I tried giving a simple answer but he wasn't having it. So I gave a real answer making everyone cry. And that's when Jared quit asking the audience questions. Can't imagine why...

That's when the dream segment basically came to an end mostly because it seemed like the convention was over but later inside another dream segment I was retelling what happened but as if this was something that actually happened. So when I woke up I didn't immediately register it as a dream.

I'm very surprised about it all because I never dream about supernatural, not really, let alone about the actors, hell, I've hardly had a dreams lately. So, an interesting segment indeed for me.

[ctl-yuejie]

saw tove lo's tits live at the concert

the trains are on time

pride month is saved

[the-ipre]

life hack: forget to prep the name of the country your pcs are in, pull something off the top of your head, realize it is actually a spell, go ha ha wizards are fucking things up, and improvise your ass off until youve actually developed something narratively interesting for your world

[crewofthegoldrush]

pure gold (the best i've ever known)

"Shocked this hasn't gone belly up yet," you mutter to her in the hushed space.

Aubrey nods. "That little mouse was a good call. Can your tinkering do anything in here?"

"They seem to have it handled," you grit out; she immediately picks up on your petulance.

"So you're saying yes it could, but you're too…stubborn?"

[CONTINUE TO CHAPTER FOUR]

-

in which i feel personally vindicated about dragging an assassin around with me

SIXTY FUCKING DAMAGE IN ONE HIT BABY

[creativesplat]

I was playing a side quest with a DM (who plays the fighter in our campaign normally, but they wanted to give DMing a go) and my PC (the rogue from our normal campaign). Our rogue is currently unwell and the party is getting him some magical cure. This mini quest was supposed to be a fun little dream quest, right? 

Turns out his consciousness and soul were transported to Limbo where he found out he had accidentally made a pact with an ancient eldritch crab back in our third D&D session and is now a warlock (something I had wanted to do but didn’t know how to, so thank you DM!). He then fell into the Pandemonium, rescued a celestial being of some sort, found his girlfriend who had been trapped in Cocytus (Pandemonium’s second layer), rescued her, went back to Limbo to escape, found a feywild faery who had gone mad from planar dissonance and loneliness, fell into an abyssal portal, escaped, fell into another one, didn’t escape, watched the faery get beheaded, was rescued by a drow, was tortured by the drow’s brother, was rescued by his girlfriend, and now he’s awake with a confused drow (the good one), the celestial creature, a tonne of scars, a missing finger, and a truck load of trauma he’s going to have to unpack. 

[cosmos-dot-semicolon]

Lady Luck is an old concept. The Obscure Goddess Online Directory even traces her back to Fortuna, the Roman goddess of luck and fate. Dobbe shared that when designing the Dicey Dungeons version of Lady Luck, the character became a very aloof, very confident-looking woman.

“Mostly thought of her as a character you would definitely see as in charge of a casino,” Dobbe said. She also described Lady Luck as someone “ready to crack a joke at your expense.”

- Cliqist, Marlowe Dobbe on the art of Dicey Dungeons