#thimble

[chumbyy]

[rosiethorns88]

Dropping the latest Sketch-a-Wish voted on by my lovely Patreons for June! A cozy scene from Legends & Lattes (by @travis_baldree), featuring Viv and Tandri trying out Thimble's scrumptious Cinnamon Roll! If you missed it, reading this book for this SAW prompted me to make my own Cinnamon Rolls from scratch (for research, of course!) I have a highlight of these shenanigans on my Instagram. 😂 Are we excited for the Bookshops & Bonedust prequel? 🔥

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

Mandolin thimble holder, 1820.

[pudsim]

There can only be one true victor.

[asexualbookbird]

I finished Legends and Lattes and I am obsessed with this little guy

[olekciy]

Thimble - "Little Gargoyle". 2 cm - 4 cm. Pear, rosewood, stained oak.

[i-love-alina]

sometimes a family is you, your artistic succubus girlfriend, a hob who isn’t always there but makes sure he’s there when he needs to be, your quite rat-kin chef, the bard who’s reinventing music, the old lady across the street, a cryptic old man (who can see the future?), a loitering college student, your old adventuring buddies, the dire-cat that goes where it wants when it wants, and the leader of the mob.

[claypigeonpottery]

I'm making another one of these for my mom. one of the most annoying things about pottery is the amount of planning you have to do for gifts. I already carved the second one and it's for mother's day. you know. in may. and it's currently barely 2024

[casmiick]

dads:-)

[chumbyy]

[9musesandanoldmind]

Thimble from Legends and Lattes has my heart~

(yes, I'm back for now, still safer to follow my newsletter though)

[clnclm]

.🧵.

[pudsim]

Gerald's save has been getting buggy and it's starting to get on my nerves, so I'm taking a little break until I can figure out how to stop the constant queue freezing issue (does anybody else get this?)

So I've started a fantasy save world. This is Thimble (left) and Gimble (right) Strongarm. Delvers of the Coperdale mine and local blacksmiths.

[ori-anna-v-58008]

HOUR 43

I ran out of adrenaline a long time ago, I'm pretty sure. The stores get refilled every time I suit up for the cockpit. I can't do my job without it. But I haven't been in the cockpit in days, as I earned.

I missed a shot. My hands jolted with pain and I gripped them tight in shock, squeezing the trigger into the horizon. I missed so badly that Handler called for immediate retreat like she was reading my last rites over the sound of explosions less distant than any of us would've liked. I haven't been given an assignment since.

I wanna prove myself. I have to prove myself. My body is so weak, and I miss THIMBLE terribly. But to earn her, to earn the right to feel like myself again, I have to prove I can overcome that weakness. This tremble, this pain, this uselessness means nothing if I don't let it. That's what Handler always says.

I hoist my rifle in my hands. I've come to know this weapon like it is a part of me, and yet every movement is still paired with a shock of pain and weakness, the gun suddenly becoming so much heavier than I can manage. I suppose it only feels like it belongs to me from behind THIMBLE's powerful, capable, useful form.

I hear the shifting noise of a target zooming through the shooting gallery and send three shots whizzing straight past it. The first two crush into my shoulder, my willpower as weak as my hands to keep the gun steady. I clamp my fingers shut, wincing and whining and biting my tongue, forcing my hand to keep it steady. When the trigger snaps back into place it nearly breaks my finger.

And the only thing I can think, failure after failure piling up as the target disappears behind a wall, is that it should hurt so much more. Adrenaline isn't the only thing I'm out of - chemicals that dull my pain when I succeed, or maximize it when I fail. Both my stores are completely empty. I hear a small beep, usually the harbinger of the horrible pain I adore, and instinctively flinch. Handler offers a pitying frown when I do that. I used to lurch for her when it happened, limply trying to steal her contact. She would take single step back, and the pain would only worsen as she looked on with still grief for me, whispering about how sorry she was. I don't do that anymore.

I hear another shk noise behind me. I whip around, swinging my rifle like it's a lead golf club, and my sights fall on Handler standing by the entrance, completely unarmored as though I were some banal pet and not a supposedly battle-hardened soldier. She either knew I wouldn't shoot, or knew I would miss. I lower my rifle, breathing in jagged chunks, my back arched toward the floor. Her eyes fell on me, regarding me like near-dead roadkill.

"Poor thing. Were you trying to impress me?"

I nod, sending her into a chorus like one hears when a kitten fails a jump.

"Come, pilot. Let's get those stores refilled. Maybe you'll land a shot if you have some kind of incentive... Those hands are getting you nowhere."

[thatfourleafbitch]

So I just finished Legends & Lattes

[queenpopcorn]

Was stuck waiting for a bit after putting some food away, couldn't help myself after listening to the most recent audio book.