roll right

Scion game. We are trying to break in to a building we suspect is run by titanspawn. We decide on a plan to enter from the roof, with our heaviest hitter taking the lead.

Player: “Ok, so I am going to dive off the roof, grab the edge and swing feet first through the window and punch the first thing I see.”

ST: “Now, to be clear, do you mean the first thing that threatens you? Or really the first thing you see?”

Player: “The first thing I see!“ 

The player makes it through the window.

ST: "Ok, uh, make a karma roll. Ok, now roll to attack.”

ST: “Right, so, you crash through the window and punch a toddler. He goes flying down the stairs while his mother screams.”

so i’ve been confusing friends in the discord chat because of these shitposts i’m making so i feel like i should clarify that i’ve been using a copy of the tomato subs text file to fuck around and make fauxsubs in vlc player. which results in adventures like this:

daily life of a digital artist:

  • is that a not coloured spot or a stain on my monitor
  • I didn’t save for at least 2 hours god is real
  • my playlist ended 1,5 h ago I’ve been drawing in silence this whole time
  • ‘ “asdf11.png” already exists. Do you want to overwrite? ‘
  • I resized this very part of a picture but now it looks too small so let’s ctrl+z ohMYGOD IT’S SO B I G
  • this idea seemed cooler yesterday at 3 am
  • I want to pee but right now I’m doing so well and if I go I will leavE THE ZONE
  • opacity 67% or 68% I can’t decide
  • well this pic looks nice //*flips it horizontally*// I regret having eyes
  • where the fuck is my pen

Brave Paladin, reveal your hopes and fears. Redbubble

2

Now I’m just messing around ‘cause I like throwing  these sparkles and screen tones everywhere—-like I know what I’m doing ahahaha I really don’t.
           
Any who! Some Vanilla Promptis for your dashes today! 
I drew the smooching girls, so this time I drew the smooching boys, but in their high school days! Their kisses would totally be cute and vanilla until they get the hang of getting too know each other huehuehue~
          E
njoy the cute squishing faces if these two losers lol 

so, i imagine s15 takes place a while after s13, and just

someone: did you name a section of the new capitol’s library after general doyle?
kimball: yep
someone: it’s labeled “shakespeare’s works” but there’s nothing actually by the author there, so—
kimball: [wiping a tear away] it’s what he would have wanted

Here’s a very smol piece of the Hunter x Hunter animation that I’ve been working on! Sorry if it’s really super pixely, I’ve been working on a small canvas so it looks kinda grainy on a portable device. On a computer it looks decent though. I plan on resizing it so it doesn’t look grainy like that but I’ll do that when I’m actually done with it lol

  • looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you: poisoned cinnamon roll
  • looks like it could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll: cinnamon roll in a halloween disguise
  • looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll: Plain cinnamon roll
  • looks like it could kill you and would actually kill you: probably a knife i am not sure i didn't research this info too thoroughly
Nine Months - Harry Styles Imagine

No piece of mine has never had as much interest surrounding it as this one has, so thank you for expressing your excitement to me. I hope you’ll find it was worth the wait. (Protip: if you’re reading on mobile, ditch the app and read on Safari or Chrome instead, as the app is prone to close on longer pieces of text).

This one is dedicated to @permanentcross, simply because she’s the best. E has listened to me ramble on and on about this story for longer than anyone should have to. She’s the inspiration behind many things beneath the cut, all of which I will leave up to your own interpretation. 

Without further adieu, I present you with Nine Months…

Keep reading

it’s so painful to love artists and bands especially from the sixties and seventies because you find this music that to you are so revolutionary and these people that speak to your heart and you feel the melody, the rhythm, the lyrics and the voice all through your veins, in your bones, and you see them as the young versions of themselves, and it’s like getting hit by a bus when they die, because to you, they are their young, vibrant and full of life selves, and it hurts so much when you’re reminded that they’re not

2

honestly sans is probably just mad that he can’t draw with a sharpie on a man made of fire.

This isn’t exactly following your prompt (Sorry!) but the idea of Grillby in Sans’ hoodie was too cute to resist and I wanted to try a fake Snapchat screenshot. <3

“Before I tell you anything else, I need you to know that I’m okay,” you said quickly when dean answered the phone. 

“Y/N what’s going on?” Dean asked gruffly. You could easily picture the scowl, the clench of his jaw, that worried look on his face. And it was only going to get worse.

“I’m in the hospital,” you said, wincing.

What?!” Dean exclaimed angrily, making you drop your face into your hands. Oh, this was going to be so very terrible… “What happened?” he growled, but before you could even open your mouth to respond, he changed his mind. “Never mind. Just tell me where you are, I’ll be right there.”


You heard him long before you saw him. He was practically shouting down the hall looking for you, stomping along in those heavy boots of his. Finally someone must have told him where you were, because then the door was slamming open, and a whole lot of panicked Dean came barreling through.

“Are you okay?” He demanded, grabbing your face in his hands. His eyes were darting around, checking you for injuries. That was when he saw your knee. “What. Happened.”

I fell Dean. I’m fine.”

“That doesn’t look fine.”

“I sprained it, okay? That’s all,” you reassured him, patting his arm. Thankfully he was interrupted as the doctor came in. 

“Mrs. Winchester,” he began, glancing up from your chart, “oh, you must be her husband.” Dean shot you a glance, but he nodded instead of blowing your story. It had been the only way they would let him in to see you. “It looks like a pretty good sprain, but nothing too serious. I’d recommend advil and some ice, but otherwise just rest and try to keep your weight off it for a few days. If you’re not better in a couple weeks, we can explore other options, maybe do an MRI. Other than that, you’re free to leave.” The doctor shook each of your hands, and then he was gone again. 

“Stay here and rest, I’ll go get the paperwork squared away,” Dean grumbled, still sounding angry despite the less-than-serious diagnosis. 

“Bullshit…” you muttered as he left, reaching over for the crutches leaning against the wall. You hopped off the bed, wincing as your muscles protested the movement. They were sore, but nothing felt too bad, so you snatched up the crutches and limped out into the hall. Dean turned at the sound from where he stood at the nurses’ station and gave you a look so terrible you stopped in your tracks and briefly reconsidered your priorities. But then you clenched your jaw and continued hobbling over to him.

“What are you doing? Go sit down.”

“No. We’re leaving, come on.”

“You’re insane, you know that? You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Screw you,” you retorted angrily, turning to go past him. But Dean reached out and snagged the back of your jacket, holding you in place as he signed the paperwork - with a fake name, so what the hell was the point? - and listened carefully to the nurse’s instructions. 

“Hey,” Dean scolded when you tried to rip out of his grip, “seriously, will you calm down for two minutes?”

“I’ve been here for three hours,” you hissed, “I called you for a ride, so get me the hell out of here already!” Dean narrowed his eyes at you, but you just glared right back at him. When a muscle in his jaw twitched, you realized he was really mad. Well, shit.

“Fine. Let’s go,” he said tightly, gesturing for you to lead the way down the hall. It was slow going with the crutches, but soon enough the two of you were out in the parking lot and Dean opened the passenger door of the impala for you. 

“I don’t need help,” you snapped when he went to grab your arm and help you into the car. Dean growled something under his breath, crossing his arms and watching you struggle until one of the crutches slipped and you went plummeting towards the ground. Strong arms caught you, and then you were pulled against Dean’s chest in a tight embrace. Before you could say anything, Dean was speaking, his voice right in your ear.

“I know you don’t need help, okay? But you also don’t need to do this by yourself. Let me help, sweetheart.” You pulled back and looked up at him, green eyes sincere, his expression worried. When you finally nodded, Dean cracked a smile and kissed your forehead, helping you into the car.


Submitted by @jesstherebel