#these game mechanics are so funny to me

[awetfrog]

a pathetic little man whose bones turn to dust if he holds an armour plate

[doobledabbadoo]

first tumblr post of 2025 & its mouthwashing fanart. unbelievable

btw the comic was inspired by this absolute nutcase comic:

[rockethorse]

The basegame wedding dress has a pregnancy morph??

[arthursfuckinghat]

One thing I really love with rdr2 and rdo is that whenever you get knocked over, bucked off, etc, your character just lays on the floor for a couple of seconds.. simply processing what just happened..

[counterspellthisyoucasual]

Look, Never Stop Blowing Up is brilliant but it’s never gonna be my favourite season, because it’s not for me, the themes don’t get me going like some of the other seasons of D20 do.

That being said, with the props and the storyboards and the dome projections? NSBU is shaping up to be the best season of D20 so far and I will fight you on that.

[ohsweetflips]

my neutral dragon age trait is that 50% of the time i'm like "the more i critique the games, the more i love them. i can appreciate each game for what they are but my criticism and frustration over what they could be are a sign of love" and the other 50% is like "this is the writing of the dragon age series. sure. why not. this may as well happen."

[necrotic-nephilim]

thank you for the tag, @sasheneskywalker!!!

rules: answer and tag nine people you want to get to know better and catch up with.

favorite color: it changes regularly, but currently, a dusty/greyish purple

last song: Maps by The Front Bottoms

currently reading:

Butcher & Blackbird by Brynne Weaver is my current fiction read and i *hate* it with my entire being. don't read it.

Postcolonial Astrology: Reading the Planets through Capital, Labor, & Power by Alice Sparkly Kat is my current non-fiction read and so far, it's very good

i'm reading a lot of comics at the moment, but my main read is Manhunter (2004) which so far, is very good, i highly recommend. i'm also planning to read Midnighter (2007) and Black Widow (2014).

currently watching:

The Acolyte has been my most recent fixation so that's just on loop rewatching over and over in the background. a lot

i've been watching Pennyworth which is far better than i expected it to be, i'm really enjoying it

i also started Invincible, which i've been enjoying

idk if it counts but i've rewatched Madame Web a concerning number of times in the past few days.

currently craving: i'd kill for an Italian Cream Soda from tea2go rn

coffee or tea: tea. i used to be a big coffee person in my teens but my chronic illness doesn't like caffeine and it *really* doesn't like coffee so i just drink tea now, but i do love tea

hobby to try: the unrealistic hobby i'd like to get into a fanfiction binding, but that takes materials and resources i do *not* currently have. i think a more realistic answer is i've been meaning to get into marvel comics more.

current au: tbh the main AU i'm working on is a Lance Brunner-centric Post-Crisis fic where i'm completely rewriting his origins to make his death as Robin more significant but still something no one talks about, leading to the ressurection of Jason also reviving Lance and Jason going on his little spree, having no idea he's not the only dead Robin. i've figured out all of the backstory and how i want to characterize Lance, but the actual plot of the fic i'm still working out. i'm leaning toward Lance/Dick as a ship, but i haven't decided. i have so many notes and ideas though and i think it's funny to take a random one-off character from a random 60s comic and actually turn him into something substantial and how he'd shape the Batfamily. trust me i'm so close to infodumping about it here everyday.

i'm also working on a *really* messed up unhealthy Damian/Tim fic, where Damian purposefully breaks the timeline so Tim was never Robin and Damian was the third Robin instead. but when Bruce "dies" Damian realizes he has no idea where to start with finding Bruce so he has to go to a civilian!Tim for help, who has no idea the timeline was changed or that he was ever Robin in a different world. it's gonna be fun and fucked up and full of Damian's jealousy complex over Tim.

i don't know if i can come up with nine whole people to tag for this since i'm still new here but i can try: @searchforahero @divine-dominion @kevin-day-is-bi @kerakeriza @deepwithintheabyss

@maryshellyswife @alicemaem @justmyshittyspace @sandmanwhore and yeah that's all i got.just tagging some mutuals/ppl i see on my posts a lot!!!

[sysig]

Finally made a Parapluesch OC, introducing Mama Oz ♥ (Patreon)

[layalu]

managing Deadfire approval is SO much more stressful than DA2 approval could ever be

[scopophobia-polaris]

first female loz director and the gerudo seem to be written fine enough? wow... there ain't no way I thought we were in the worst timeline after totk

Yeah got through the main quest with the gerudo, it wasn't painful! It wasn't even bad! Still got them outfits but for the most part it was like oh cool!

I would say a lot of that oh cool is from the fact they didn't do a lot to even fuck it up to begin with, I'm gonna be real with yall this game is NOT worth $60USD

Edit: lemme say one thing, you know when people were being like damn totk story wasn't dark or mature at all why was this compared to Majora's mask again? And then all the zeldatwt people came out and said zelda is just a kid series domt expect good writing uH

This one feels like a kid's game. That ain't to say it's terrible I would say, hell I'm not far in it if I get something crazy that's like OH FUCK I'll reblog this post and say something but uh.....game for babies I'm gonna be shocked if anyone struggles with any puzzles cuz you CAN CHEESE THEM EASY ITS 🫢🤭

EDIT EDIT: I SWEAR IM NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE A DOWNER..... @ezlo-x HAS BEEN THERE THE WHOLE TIME IVE BEEN PLAYING....THEY KNOW I HAVENT BEEN A PARTY POOPER.....

[lu-polls]

wait op 👀 can i ask who your favorite boy is? 👀👀 (sorry im too shy to reply to the post and im curious now because of your tags)

4️⃣

[saltycharacters]

Capcom hire me right now I literally have an entire hypothetical Klavier Investigations game in my head and it's so cool i promise

[lucanls]

herald of andraste more like herald of being the nosiest bitch in all of thedas who enters an empty home/barn/whatever sees a letter there feels inclined to read it and goes yes that concerns me i need to add it to my *rolls out cartoonishly long scroll* fuck around and find out to do list

[inoankin]

Rodeo Tricks (scrapped)

i think i might be incapable of writing smut, because i keep trying and getting stuck just before it gets good. no clue what that's about but. okay.

ANYWAYS. this has been lying in my drafts. it's kind of a newer one in comparison, but it's been long enough since i've touched it that i'm pretty sure it's never getting finished.

enjoy :)

______________

The day is bright and warm with spring in Tulare County. Leo watches Vincent’s back shift in rhythm with his percheron’s slow, steady steps as a breeze combs through the valley. He’s been quiet, so far. Just leading them along an invisible, winding path through hills springing with golden poppies. Leo doesn’t mind too much. He hasn’t exactly known the man for long, but he’s well-enough acquainted to know he’ll speak when he needs to; as it is, he’s contented enough to watch the rocking of his hips in that sturdy Mexican saddle.

They ride for a while longer before Vincent pulls Belle to a stop beside a brook, in a relatively flat clearing. He peers at Leo as he stops beside him, a quiet smile on his lips. “Fancy yourself a showman, cowboy?”

A raised brow. “I don’t see no fuckin’ broncos out here, if that’s what you mean.”

“What, no rodeo tricks?”

“None that you ain’t already seen. ‘S not like we got time to train for that kind’a thing. We got jobs to do.” 

Kalahari snorts as if to agree. Vincent clicks his tongue, more as a response than a command, but Belle starts forward, and he has to pull back gently on the reins to stop her again. Leo does not laugh.

“Real shame. I thought you might have saved something special, just for me.”

“Tell you what, granjero: we ever come back ‘round here again, and I will.”

“Always the charmer.” Vincent then directs his horse across the brook and strolls farther into the valley, his back to him once again. Leo follows. “You ever wrestle steer?”

“Well, sure. Been a while, though.”

“You remember how?”

“The basics.” He taps his heels into Kalahari’s sides and comes up to walk beside Vincent, frowning curiously. “What’s all this about?”

“I figure you could put on one performance for me, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

With a confused look, he gestures around. “With what steer?”

There’s a certain glimmer in Vincent’s eye when he meets Leo’s gaze, tightening his hold on the reins. “You can do with a substitute, can’t you?”

Through his teeth, he throws a whistle sharp enough to kill, and in the next moment he’s gone, carried on the wind. Leo blinks a few times before it clicks. The cheeky bastard. 

He kicks into his horse’s sides and they race after him. Vincent is but a spot of brown and grey among miles of green and gold. From the distance comes a joyous shouting, though he has no idea what he’s saying over the roar of wind in his ears. Hais Stetson tries to fly away, so he pulls it off and slaps it on Kalahari’s thigh to urge him on.

It’s not long before he’s close enough to hear Vincent’s laughter floating on the breeze. Leo tries to get on his right side, but swears when he darts to the left. Yanks the reins to keep up. Belle is surprisingly agile for a draft horse, her rider equally deft for a farmer; but if Leo knows anything, it’s how to out-maneuver a slippery bastard, steer or otherwise. So he tightens his jaw and picks up the pace. Vincent’s quick but he knows he’s quicker. The only issue is trapping him. Rock and a hard place, or so it goes. 

They get up and stick to Belle’s haunches, and surprisingly, Vincent allows it. He laughs like nothing in the world. Leo answers in kind. The glen is just a blur to his senses as they gallop on.

And suddenly he’s there, staring him in the face. Vincent only grins. This has got to be the stupidest idea he’s ever had.

Leo leaps. 

He’s not sure who it is that yelps, or if it even matters. The impact of the ground jars them both, but they have no time to gather their bearings before they’re tumbling, rolling over the grass and the poppies. He reaches out to take hold of whatever he can, which turns out to be a wrist as they come to a stop. Vincent twists and kicks, bucks like a bronco. Leo wrestles them around and forces him flat on the ground, finding his other wrist and pinning them both above his head.

Vincent blinks, his eyes wide and chest heaving. Leo grins. “You’re lucky I left my lariat with the coach.”

“Is that so?” He says, sounding positively breathless.

There it is — that helpless, almost bashful look he got when he caught Leo’s eye yesterday evening. He’d offered him a drink and told him about the grain farm he labors with his brother, and Leo had told him about the other vaqueros he works with on Five Lakes Ranch a few towns farther south. They stayed and drank until the barman kicked them out. Vincent had looked at him with a quietly fond expression from atop his percheron that night, before he’d headed home. And just a few hours ago, something more hopeful as he invited Leo out for a ride.

He releases Vincent’s hands and sits up on his hips, considering the man under him. 

“You wanted this to happen.”

“Clever guy,” he pants. “Or am I just that obvious?”

“You’re pretty fuckin’ obvious, granjero.”

“I guess I’ll have to find subtler tactics.” He reaches up, then, which Leo doesn’t expect, but allows. Finds a loose grip in the front of his shirt and pulls him down, all doe-eyed and cautious in that reserved way of his. Leo plants his hands on the grass either side of his head. A golden flower crumples beneath his thumb. “May I—?”

“Yes.”

And then he does. 

Vincent’s mouth is already open when they connect. His lips taste like Vaseline and his tongue tastes like oranges. Stubble prickles Leo’s palm as it glides up his throat to hold his jaw, a small sigh escaping Vincent as it does. When they pull apart, he’s even more breathless than before, staring up at him with flushed cheeks and an awed expression. Leo tries not to laugh.

“That’s…”

He quirks a brow. “Good?”

A nod. “Yeah.” Vincent’s eyes dart around his face, searching for something as his brows slowly pull together. “And you’re…”

“Fantastic?”

Leo expects a laugh, or a smile, or something, but all he gets is silence as Vincent lies there and studies him, like he’s trying to find God in the work-worn lines of his face. He stares long enough that he starts to worry that was somehow the wrong thing to say, until he sits up, forcing Leo to move back and give him space.

“Leaving.”

Oh. Right.

Him and the rest of the cattlemen are leaving in the evening. Packing up and heading home. Of course, he’d like to go home; but there’s also this, here, now, and it’s making Vincent upset, and that’s the last thing he wants. He just kissed the man, for fuck’s sake. He can’t leave it there without some kind of conversation, at the very least — which is impressive, coming from him. Harv would be proud. Problem is, he hasn’t got the first clue what to say, how to make this not such a bad thing. He has to leave. Vincent is upset. 

“It doesn’t— I mean, you make it sound so final, but we could— it’s not like I just… you… um. Hola.”

Leo’s train of thought comes to a stop as Vincent grips his shoulder and guides him around until he’s sitting on the grass, fitting himself neatly, perfectly, on Leo’s lap, without so much as asking. They’re close again, breathing the same breath, and he’s all flushed with this half-unsure, half-wanting look as he just hovers there. Like he’s not completely certain what to do now that he’s gotten himself here.

“Howdy,” he says as he continues to study his face, though it seems more now like he’s committing it to memory. “Figured we best… well, make the best of it. Right?”

“We can come back around. This isn’t— it doesn’t have to be forever.”

“I know. I know. But you are leaving. And I won’t see you. And I want…”

A warmth blooms in Leo’s chest as he trails off. The words don’t need to be said, not really. Still, he wants to hear them. 

“What do you want, Vincent?”

The distance between them closes. It’s not much more than a peck, though Vincent lingers on his lips as if that alone will answer the question. A man of few words, or so he tries to be. And after a moment, he pulls away. Goes back to studying him. Not that he minds the attention. If there would be one reason to stay, it would be to lie under that calculating gaze for the rest of his days. And, shit, he’s not gonna think about the implications of that. 

Vincent thumbs absently at the collar of Leo’s shirt and finally focuses on his eyes. “I want you. If I can have you. If you’ll let me.”

It sounds almost like he’s asking a different question, though Leo would probably say ‘yes’ to whatever came out of his mouth, proposition or otherwise.

“I think I can do that,” he says, unable to stop the lopsided smile that pulls at his lips. He gets a bright smile in return, and that’s all it takes.

This time, he pulls Vincent down, pushing eagerly into the heat of his mouth. Vincent opens up easily.

fin.

[setaflow]

Sorry WHAT HAPPENED to your war domain cleric??? Can I have the DETAILS???

Unfortunately resolution is somewhat scant only because this all happened over the course of the last two sessions of a freshly rebooted campaign and we're all on an extended break for the holidays lol, but absolutely you can have details--

In my DM's homebrew setting, my cleric is a noble from a country that's ruled over by several half-brothers that each control one chunk of territory. The brothers are all related to the other by their father, but one of their mothers had a daughter as well who doesn't have a title claim but is more of a Princess Diana-type: adored by the people and has political sway through sheer force of social standing. My character is 29 and the princess is roughly 26-ish, so my DM and I improvised we'd know each other in our childhoods (thanks partly to a relatively high history roll), but weren't exactly on positive terms due to my character's haughty and hyper-competitive personality.

Flash forward a few sessions. My party is in this same country solving a string of serial killings, and I get a letter from the princess to come and meet up after dark. I go to the location with my party's fighter and bard, but I head up to meet her alone. A few shenanigans ensue that result in my cleric accidentally breaking an artifact of hers that was letting her see visions of something. As she was apologizing, the princess started kissing her, and I was like "Welp, my cleric absolutely doesn't pull away and starts kissing her back in the attic of this hat shop".

As I was mentally trying to pick what flavor of childhood-rivals-to-lovers sapphic revelation my girl was going to have through the rest of her story, my DM asks me to make a wisdom saving throw. I have a +9 to wisdom saving throws. I rolled a 2 on the dice.

My DM: "As you're kissing her, you feel your mind shut off for a quick minute. In the next moment of genuine awareness you have, you're standing in a blood-filled room with a sickle you don't recognize in one hand, and the princess's head in the other as you finish carving through the last few tendons in her neck."

End of session. I had my head on the table for five straight minutes.

My character spends the next session in basically a horror-filled fugue state as everyone with a shred of political power (plus her family, who she's on so-so terms with) puts on a sham trial and pins all 27 serial killings on her. Some more shenanigans happen and I think the real killer's about to take us all into a dungeon to murder us there, but that was the last session we had and I don't get back to the table until mid-January thanks to a work event I have to attend right after the holidays lol.

I know it was actually the princess and not someone disguised as her thanks to casting Locate Creature beforehand, and the flavor text/saving throw of the situation definitely aligns with Dominate Person, but basically all the whos, hows, or whys haven't been revealed because this was all the last two sessions and our party hasn't had the chance to look for clues.

As soon as my girl ceases to be an enemy of the state, I have to teach myself a nifty little resurrection spell so I can be like "So....sorry about murdering you, but can we give that other thing another shot pwease 👉👈 👩‍❤️‍👩❓".

[rioblitzle]

whgat is wrong with you........