Same game as Napoleon Blownapart’s coat

GM: (talking about cybernetic limbs and guns) Now I have to think about what things are made of!
Me, a ferrokinetic superhero: Can I have a list of things I can manipulate?

Me: (about the rest of the team having no usable money) “That’s your own fault for not looting forks!”

Me: I want to take the guns I broke earlier, and with Wallflower’s help fix them. (I had closed the barrels of two revolvers earlier)
“Wallflower, can I get some help unbreaking these?”
Wallflower: *roles poorly to examine them* I’m invoking ‘Confidant’ because she wants my help on this *rolls a +2* “I think these will not blow up in your face, but I mostly deal with sniper rifles, not pistols.”

Later: one player is zoned out
Me (in character): “Wallflower! Wallflower!”
Me (ooc): I pick her up and shake her.
Wallflower: ( noticing what’s going on) “What?!”
Me: I put her down. “Wallflower, can you take potshots at this please?”

anonymous asked:

OK but it's painfully clear you referenced from dovahs drawing to spite her. You even drew the little planets and stars in the background lol. Just because you have tons of people blowing smoke up your ass doesn't make you right.

i kind of..just said i sketched it a week ago…lol… I do see why you would say that though. But that’s literally just involving myself in more unnecessary crap–the opposite of what i want to do. youre..telling me i referenced off of something that was referenced from me. Literally why would i do that. even to spite someone. why

yikes smoke up my asshole sounds not cool. not painful, but not cool either rip

!!! look @ what is painfully clear! stars/space related backgrounds..:

u can look in my gallery to see that almost everything w/ a background has stars in it, so im gonna show you my stored stuff.

yes yes it is painfully obvious i did something i’ve done for a long time to spite her, u got me

in all seriousness though, i put stars on this drawing because im not going to stop doing something i’ve done long before this even started. (Some of those have planets on them but they’re really badly drawn because 15 yr old me thought they’d look better like that. 15 YR OLD ME WAS WRONG)

i’d show the drawings i did that resemble the one I just did but i dont think i have anymore space. lol.

anonymous asked:

if sweaty bakugou and the clothes sharing are combined, does that mean he has certain shirts that he makes sure are sweat free just for the girls? so no one will get hurt if his clothes blow up?

this is the sweetest headcanon i’ve ever read

tbh i think Bakugou keeps all of his clothes really clean, particularly if he’s super sweaty and he has the explosive sweat everywhere (not just on his hands). b/c otherwise it’s just dangerous, so he has to keep them clean. it’s just the clothes he’s just worn that are Bad and Sweaty and Smelly

but yes, after the clothes sharing becomes a Thing, Bakugou takes more care to wash his clothes more carefully, and keep track of where he’s put his non-washed stuff so no one accidentally gets hurt

it happens to Uraraka first. after their fight she’s much less afraid of him, and she’s the first person to barrow one of his tank tops, but there was some extra sweat soaked int the fabric and there’s a small explosion on her side. she recognized it immediately, and Bakugou saw it happen. after that he takes much more care with his clothes

Kirishima doesn’t really give a fuck tho he’ll wear some of Bakugou’s shirts and not even notice the explosions b/c of his quirk. Bakugou lets out a frustrated sigh b/c goddammit Kirishima

Remember remember, the 5th of November

I can’t believe summers vanished. I already miss it. Here in the UK we have bonfire night or Guy Fawkes on the 5th of November which is basically an excuse to set off thousands of tonnes of explosives and set fire to gigantic and morbid stuffed models of the guy who plotted to blow up parliament. Its a pretty dark and messed up celebration. But a few years ago it gave me a chance to have my own messed up celebration.

I was living quite close to where a large display is held at the time so I was able to walk there. I still remember it quite clearly and it was well planned. But I was so nervous. I hadn’t really delved into public shame much back then and even though its still a big deal I was even more nervous than I’d be now. Which called for another dalliance with wine.

I was able to plan it as I had the house to myself that weekend and managed at least three days without going to the loo. I rarely have evening missions and I remember it was tough getting through the day beforehand; I had to cross my legs a lot, trying not to let the waves of urgency fully take hold. I started having a few drinks at 5ish before leaving at 6 to walk into town. The drinks helped my nerves but they went to my head a little as when I’m desperate for the loo I lose my appetite and hadn’t eaten much all day. I wore some stretchy pale blue high waisted jeggings over red sloggi briefs, over cut and rolled up tights, over white multi pack briefs, Its always been a safer approach layering as such and it helps me to feel protected against leaky leg bands if things turn out to be overly messy. I also wore a leather jacket and a scarf as it was quite chilly.

It was a lovely little town that I miss so much, having moved away from there since. On bonfire night, preceding the actual fireworks display, they have a large procession through the town with lots of floats driving by with bands and performers along with hundreds of people dressed up with torches walking down the narrow highstreet which they close to traffic. I’d arrived a little early so went into a very old pub that the procession goes directly by for another glass of wine. I don’t usually go into pubs alone but wanted to allow a wave to take hold in the ladies as I was getting desperate. There were so many people there, it’s got to be the busiest night of the year. Just ordering a drink took about fifteen awkward minutes, trying not to give in to the gassiness at hand. I remember going outside the front of the pub as they let you take the plastic cups away and watched the procession begin. The atmospheric smell of burning wood from all the torches and the general air of excitement was thrilling. But I was still nervous. I had to cross my legs a little a few times and eventually gave in and went into the ladies. There was a large queue so I decided to bail, I didn’t need to wee much so was fairly confident but it meant I couldn’t let a wave properly take hold. It was for the best as the way things felt it would be tough to recover from without losing it badly.

I finished my wine and set off with the crowd for the field nearby where they have the display. I now felt really light headed and seriously full. I started uncontrollably farting on the way and a few were audible, but hopefully not witnessed. I didn’t really have a plan, apart from to put myself in the situation for a large accident at the display and as we were all funnelled down into separate lanes for paying the entry fee I started sweating. The pressure was huge and the gassiness had stopped which was worrying as that usually means there’s a dam that’s holding back more gas and it could be noisy.

There were some teenagers behind me, mainly girls, and a family in front. I felt a bit weird being alone but it added to the thrill, making it more of an adventure. Then a very bad wave started. If I allow them to take hold then I can only ride it out by totally crossing my legs, something that wasn’t possible in that crowded environment. Nearly at the front of the queue now I tried to cross my legs a little but it didn’t help and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I was seriously desperate now and was fumbling around in my purse getting the entry money ready when a powerful spasm struck and I had to lean forwards slightly. I was straining to brake but it was no good and I suddenly gave an involuntary push. A messy load about the size of an apple quickly crackled into my pants before I managed to stop the flow as my heart doubled its pace. There were still a few people in front before I’d be able to pay and get through to some much needed personal space. And then the smell hit as I was struggling to regain control. I had to cross my legs now otherwise I’d obviously lose the whole load while trapped with too many people. I didn’t dare reach back to examine whether it had stained or whether it was visibly bulging but it felt quite wet and messy and pleasantly warm on the cold evening. I heard the girls behind quiz each other on who farted although I don’t think they rumbled me. But I was still so desperate and as I paid the people on the gates I asked where the toilets were which may have been a giveaway if they’d smelled it.

There were a line of portaloo’s, which barely qualify as toilets, and people were already queuing. It was so crowded and it felt surreal being in that situation with messy pants. The wine had helped to take the edge of my nerves and as I queued I crossed my legs again, trying not to lose total control yet. Someone joined behind me, and then they changed line which made me paranoid and I felt back. It felt wet in places! When I’d went into the portaloo, which had a small basic mirror, I could see that the staining was noticeable and I panicked a little not knowing what to do and was now in the grip of a powerful wave. More poop starting crackling out but again I didn’t want to lose the whole load just yet and fought through it somehow. It really stank. I stayed there like that for a good few minutes until I’d just about settled enough to walk out and find some space. The display was due to begin and I found a dark spot which was a little less crowded. Thankfully the darkness would have been enough to cover the visual side but people would still be able to smell me.

More and more people piled in and I again felt more and more nervous. My pants were already terribly messy and it was bulgy, maybe the size of an everyday poop. They’d lit the Guy to much applause and then unexpectedly they let off a gigantic banger to commence the display and it gave me a shock which brought on a severe cramp. As everyone cheered the display erupted into life and I stood there, trying to act naturally as the remainder of the movement moved towards the exit. I was now breathing heavily and surrounded by people as I leaned forwards and totally lost it. With a forceful push I could hear my own explosion between the larger explosions in the sky as a lot of mush and warmth spread further into my pants. And then it got slightly firmer and I could have regained control here but was utterly absorbed into accident mindset and slowly pushed this monster out. It took a long time but at least it was quieter. I felt back and the bulge was getting enormous and it was starting to make its way towards the top of my underwear. I don’t know if anyone had seen it as it was happening but now the smell in the air was a total giveaway.

It was such a surreal and strangely satisfying moment, being around others and totally filling up my underwear. The warmth and the feeling of it spreading out against my skin along with the messy relief was amazing but the size of it wasn’t good. On top of the staining now the bulge felt ridiculous and I had to push against it to try and flatten it out a little which caused it to stain my jeggings more. Some of the huge rockets were lighting up the field so much that people would have been getting glimpses of my predicament and adding up the source of the smell. It was even overpowering the strong gun powder haze from the fireworks. After I’d heard a few people questioning it I started walking away, closer to the exit.

I really hadn’t thought this through. The walk back was going to be tough with this many people around. I watched the fireworks continue as I left the field and stood with my back to a tree, trying to figure out a route that would avoid the busy highstreet. I felt back again and noticed that I’d wee’d a little too and there was wetness now on my upper inner thighs. This was a disaster and the smell just seemed to get worse and worse. I still remember thinking that this was one of my largest poops of that year, and definitely my most public up until then. I didn’t really go much more public than this until recently with this years lunacy.

I had to walk straight past the people on the gates where it was well lit and I have no doubt they saw the mess I was in, And even worse there was a squelching sound a little as I walked. The Jeggings stretched sufficiently helping me to feel secure against pants leg band leaks but it was all so over the top and I held my bottom a fair amount as I walked, making my hand slightly messy.

The journey back is hazy. I passed so many people and kept changing sides of the road to keep maximum possible distance but I do remember hearing a girls voice saying “poopy pants” in a higher pitched teasing way. I’d managed to leave before the display had finished and avoided getting stuck in the bottleneck of people leaving but I remember looking in the mirror when I’d got home and thinking oh my god. There’s no chance that anyone who’d caught sight of my bottom would have missed it. I’m still trying to find a picture, I’m sure I took one, but it isn’t in the obvious folder, which is worrying..

I’d been meaning to type up that one for a while. It was by a long way the most epic pants poop of my life up until that point. It’s also that time of year again now, and there are a lot of fireworks displays on next weekend. Hmmm :)

hinotorisan said: I hope tomorrow’s eggs are not the orphaned kids of Evil Lizard cause that’d give this whole thing a dramatic turn and idk if they’re ready to have little talking lizard kids… Tho it’d be hilarious to see a smol lizard calling Genos “mama”.

Ahahaha it wasn’t… but I liked your idea better LOL

Inktober 24/31 prompt “dozen”

Keep reading

I feel as though people often forget that Regulus and Sirius are not different because they were raised differently- they are two different results of the same toxic household. As somebody who unfortunately knows a thing or two about abusive/toxic situations - there are a lot of them in my family although thankfully my parents are lovely- I have seen examples of people BOTH like Regulus and like Sirius as a result of very similar home environments.

Sirius is a very headstrong, outgoing person- very typical of a first born child. He reacts in a classic way- he knows that he’s going to be punished no matter what he does, so he acts out purposefully to agitate his parents, to bring on another fight- it jumpstarts the cycle and helps to ease the anxiety of waiting for another blow up. Even in situations where no physical abuse is happening, many people will express that sometimes they would act out, hoping that things would escalate, so that at least they could finally have physical evidence to point to to “prove” the abuse was happening.

Regulus, on the other hand, is more reserved, “Soft” in Sirius’ words. He sees what happens to his brother when he acts out, and as a result becomes obsessed with making sure he is the perfect child in a futile effort to soften the blow on himself.  I know people like this- perfect grades, a teacher’s pet, good at sports, projecting an image of normalcy, because anything less than entirely perfect is grounds for punishment. People like Sirius are the people who are more likely to eventually leave because they can at least see - even if it’s hard- that they are not being treated the way they should. For people like Regulus, it’s likely that he thinks his upbringing is normal in comparison to Sirius. He thinks that any punishment he receives is deserved because he failed to live up to expectations, even if the expectations are impossible. As an adult, he would similarly feel intense self loathing at any perceived shortcomings.

tl;dr I just have a problem with people (mostly just fanfic i’ve read, etc) who portray the Black Family as having fundamentally different approaches to their children, as if it wouldn’t have been a toxic environment for both children

Hello, my beloved friends :)

So, in light of the metric ton of mess happening in our fandom right now, I feel it’s only fair that I make a post here about what happens with DGT in the event that everything I write about is a thing of the past.

(Fuck, that sentence hurt to write.)

First, I want to apologize. I myself have contributed to the uncertainty. First I said I wouldn’t post anything until things were looking positive, then things were briefly looking positive and I said I’d be posting something again, then things started to look unbelievably negative for the fandom and I immediately regretted having said a word. So for whatever role I played in the rollercoaster of emotions we’ve all been on for these past few months, I am so sorry.

Second, I want to say that this blog and all the fics contained on it are not going anywhere until Tumblr literally blows up on us all - and even then, I’ve got the originals and I will find them a nice warm home where you can continue to access them. This place means too much to me to let it go. And it’s meant a lot to many of you. It stays. Period, full stop, the end.

I think we can all agree that things are not exactly looking rosy for our fandom right now. I refuse to take a baseball bat to anybody’s fledgling hope - because that’s been done to me repeatedly in the past few weeks, and it’s a real dick move - but even the most optimistic among us can now say pretty conclusively that things appear to be on very shaky ground at the absolute best.

I don’t want to say I will never write these two again. Because to do that would hurt my soul in a way I can’t even begin to articulate. But I will say that, unless and until there’s some kind of incredibly convincing evidence that suggests that our favorite duo is thriving together, I think it’s disrespectful for me to write about them as a couple. It would be painful for me to write, realizing I’m nursing a delusional hope. It would be painful for you to read, knowing that what I’m writing is nothing but a trick of the light. And it would undoubtedly be painful for Grace and Chester if they ever stumbled upon it. While I’ve always tried to keep my fic out of their tag and away from their eyes, if we know anything after all this time, it’s that they see everything. And I’ve always tried to write fic that might make them smile if they ever came across it.

I am not saying goodbye. I’m not saying it because I might be back. I’m not saying it because I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not saying it because I don’t want to leave this place. I don’t want to let this go. Even if it’s inevitable, I’m not ready to let this go.

I love Grace and Chester to bits. And writing them - for you all - has been an unparalleled privilege. I maintain hope that it will be again, even if that hope is in vain.

No matter what, know this: I have grown to truly love all of you. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for your praise and your prompts and your incredible kindness. Thank you for elevating my own standards for my writing to new heights. Thank you for giving me this wellspring of creativity that I didn’t think I’d ever find again. DGT is more than a blog to me, and my dinky little fanfics are dearly beloved creations. You made that possible.

I’m not saying goodbye. Even if things are different, I’ll be here.

I love you all. So, so much.

Thank you for you.