#10/25/23

[aewmoves]

[reavenedges-lies]

[rattkween86]

I wish I tasted Like sugar on peoples' tongues And not bitterness.

Daily Haiku #7

[hazelplaysgames]

Steel Eel's on me, but the layout of the far island is pretty safe to let me ignore it.

[theswandragon]

Daily Poem 10/25/23

Oh hey, the masc is back— Long time, no see. Feels like it's been a while Since this was the gender for me. What a fluid mood As it comes and goes Just seeing how it flows. How will I wake up? Who knows!

~Swan

[ethanslaterupdates]

Ethan Slater via Nik Walker’s Instagram stories (10/25/23)

[absenceofinternet]

hi

[ancientcatbuddy]

[kan-artblog]

Daily environment study 3/7

[dinasilvertongue]

[aewmoves]

[jackalspine]

Last session was the first time my winged party member joined me in my disguise so we became AsMorbius The Long a traveling soothsayer capable of communing with the dead….

^fleur under the robe

So an ongoing bit in my dnd session is that whenever we need money or anyone needs a disguise…. We break out Asmordious The Awesome.

In which my character dons a beard and two other party members fit under my luscious robe and suddenly we are THE GREAT WIZARD ASMORDIOUS

^in this drawing my character isn’t wearing the beard cause I failed my disguise roll so it fell off. (The other two under my robe rolled high on stealth so it was just me…

[jtl-fics]

Tbd? Perhaps?

10/23/24 WIP Wednesday (Closed) | TBD AU

Then Andrew came to Atlanta, to the wolves and…and Neil knows he never would have won that argument all those years ago for Andrew to let him go. Not when he’s so weak to Andrew, and he had been stupid enough to think that they could be friends. Neil could have friends and those friends could be safe. Then Andrew and him got closer and Neil told himself that they could even be best friends. Then Andrew-

“Uncle Neil?” Dion’s voice startles Neil out of his thoughts, looking up from his long gone bowl of pasta. There’s daylight streaming through the windows and Dion’s looking at him worriedly. “Did you sleep?”

Neil looks at Dion and down at the Wolves uniform and shakes his head, “I guess not.”

“It’s really not good for you to stay up all night.” Dion’s chastisement is far cuter than Kevin’s ever managed to be. “We don’t have to do practice together this morning, you should get some sleep.”

Neil wonders if Kevin would have been this endearing if Wymack had the opportunity to raise him. He dismisses the thought as he reaches over and ruffles Dion’s hair, “Thank you.” He gets up and Dion takes his plate before he can reach for it.

“Go to bed. I can handle this.” Dion says with pride as he walks over and puts the pasta bowl in the sink before turning and looking at Neil triumphantly.

[hazelplaysgames]

Bloblobber lobs got lobbed through the Lid.

[zhansww]

[rainbowcaleb]

FICLET FRIDAY: Welcome Home

Prompt: hearth | Pairing: shadowgast | Rating: G | Word count : 510 | Warnings: none

Caleb loves his students, he does. He squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment. No, he really does. He tosses a friendly wave behind him as he exits the lecture hall and tries to keep his deep exhale as quiet as can be. He loves this job, he does. Their bright minds, the questions that show they’re really listening, the big smiles when they work it out themselves and the magic alights their fingers. But sometimes, the exhaustion catches up to him. The busywork, the constant grading, the students skipping class with a flimsy excuse, the endless faculty meetings that really could have been a letter left in his office to read on his own time. The petty disputes between lecturers that simply summed up to everyone having their own way of doing magic but were utterly sure that their way is the only possible way that exists. He’s defeated minor gods and yet the bone weariness sunk in after the first few months teaching faster than any adventuring scars did.

He steps outside the heavy hall doors into the brisk air, thankful for its bracing wind against his skin, cooling his thoughts. The air is tinged with that ever-present woodsmoke of autumn. He can imagine the hearthsides, the kettles being boiled, the bread being warmed. Caleb tucks his nose down into his gifted knitted scarf and kicks his pace up from stroll to power-walking, imagining his own fireplace waiting at home. He needs quiet, and perhaps a blanket and a cup of tea, before facing classes again tomorrow.

Caleb reaches his cottage after a short while, having set up his home on the outskirts of the city but not too far to travel into work with non magical means. He brushes his boots off on the doormat, toeing at the corner with practiced nonchalance. It is hard to see under the dried leaves and dusty mud, but tucked under the mat is a freshly picked violet, its bright purple a sun amongst the clouds. He smiles but tucks it inside his scarf, ever paranoid still of distant neighbors watching, but he is glad to have picked up extra sundries earlier that week. He has a companion for dinner that night.

He unlocks his door, the key in his hand not nearly as important as the whispered verbal and hidden somatic, and walks into his home. He hasn’t invested much in furniture, other than a secondhand overstuffed couch he loves more than he’d admit, and more bookshelves than are worth the trouble if he ever moves. And in the center of that couch, with a velvety green blanket draped over, and two cats snuggled in fluffy mounds on top, is the gently napping form of a familiar elf. Quietly as he can, he drops his work bag at the door, re-locks all his enchantments, and crosses to the hearth to stroke the fire. Tonight, he is brewing tea for two.