Context: my party got smoked and went unconscious. Faerona, a half elf sorcerer, wakes up first and finds herself alone in a metal cube with a skull on the opposite wall. After blasting the thing to bits with Fire Bolt, the skull cracks and reveals a gemstone. In dwarvish above is written ‘the hammer is mightiest’. The sorcerer rolls to see if she recognizes the stone.
Dm: *after a successful arcane check* you recognize the gemstone. It is a kind that reacts to a certain kind of touch, and when that happens it lights up and often sets things in motion. What do you want to do?
Sorcerer: *in posh accent* I wanna spit on it.
DM: … What.
*after a pause* …. Roll to hit.
Sorcerer: *rolls nat 20*
The rest of the players start to cry with laughter.
DM, who can barely keep their laugh in: You spit on the stone with such force it cracks the gem and the shards begin to glow. The door slides open.
Cue even harder laughter.
Needless to say, this little event has lovingly been dubbed ‘critspit’ and it’s the best thing that has happened this campaign.
Gemini moons are my favourite moon placement! Always have 100 thoughts racing through their heads at once and are always talking to themselves. Restless and excitable they can’t sit still and they have a certain kind of enthusiasm to them. You can see their eyes light up when they’re interested and there’s not a feeling quite like keeping a Gemini entertained and happy. They have the best sense of humour and they always leave me rolling around the floor laughing, all the Mercurian energy creates a hilarious, intelligent, excitable person who I cant help but love. You have to keep up with them and they always keep you on your toes!
Yoongi’s ass is very small. Most would say he doesn’t have one. It looks pretty bony and flat, just like the rest of him. In certain lighting though, in certain pants, he kind of looks like he’s not an overgrown stick-bug, like he maybe has some dimension; heft and weight to his bird bones.
These are those pants, he observes triumphantly in the dressing room mirror. They’re some kind of leather, spandex hybrid, clinging and stretching in the right places so you can actually see that he has thighs and ropy muscles. Yoongi’s not vain, but sometimes it’s nice to feel attractive considering that most of the time he feels anything but.
He pokes the curve of his butt in the mirror, watches the flesh depress and bounce back. Grinning, he giggles to himself, “Peaches.”
He hears a snort behind him and whirls.
Taehyung is hovering against the dressing curtain, a hand to his mouth covering his wide grin. His shoulders are shaking.
Yoongi has no idea what to say. He feels his face burning up.
Finally, Taehyung drops his hand. Licking his lips nervously, he agrees, “Peaches.”
A small nod in the affirmative as he meets Yoongi’s eyes, and Yoongi knows they’re alright. Taehyung’s not gonna rat him out to the rest of the guys.
hi Hoang Anh (can I call you Hoang Anh?), I love your Fitzsimmons poetry. The latest one you wrote completely destroyed me. If you take requests, can you please do one where Fitz describes Simmons in colors? Thanks!
1. You. Your eyes in a certain kind of light. Your
binder filled with chem notes and lab reports in my messy handwriting.
2. Late afternoon when the sun is less vicious and
you get nostalgic for the cornfields beyond your childhood window.
3. Midnight underneath the streetlight, you place
your hand on my chest and say, “Let’s go see the world.” I breathe lightly knowing
I would follow you for the rest of my days.
1. You. Your smile caught in the glass, full of too
sad and too much longing. Your tears heavy on your eyelids, drenching my bloodied
2. The unkind sea below, the blinding sky above,
and the cursed bliss of not dying.
3. You. Your absence curling its cold fingers
around my neck. Your presence choking the air out of me.
4. “Maybe there is” and a kind of weightlessness like
1. You. Your heart. The way it thrums against my
chest like a butterfly’s wings, a trembling bird.
2. You. Your lips. The way they sear onto my shoulder blades
and kiss away the ache in my bones. I never knew it could be like that, that
your touch could burn and my skin could spark, but I’d gladly be set ablaze and
dissolve in the heat of your flame.
There is only a certain amount of kindness in the world…just as there is a certain amount of light. We cast a shadow on something wherever we stand, and it is no good moving from place to place to save things…Choose a place where you won’t do very much harm and stand in it for all you are worth, facing the sunshine.