Stranger Things
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Claire Keane
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
AnasAbdin
taylor price
trying on a metaphor

Janaina Medeiros

shark vs the universe
hello vonnie
Sade Olutola
Game of Thrones Daily
Peter Solarz
One Nice Bug Per Day
$LAYYYTER

@theartofmadeline
h
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation
Monterey Bay Aquarium

seen from TĂźrkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Canada

seen from Malaysia
seen from T1

seen from Singapore
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
@thatsupport

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Did some sketches while i was out of town
OwO
Reblog this with a 6 word summary of your last d&d session
Mine is âLost my religion eat a croissantâ
Body swapping is not fucking fun.
I greatly overestimated my playersâŚ
Weeding the yard followed by barbecue.
Drow wantonly murders many fish people
froze frog eggs, became a god
Whoops I killed three player characters.
Started dark, then pokemon died
World in danger, I am drunk
Loot the Bodies, They are Alive
Little sketch i did in my free time at work

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Aaaaaaart
I love anyone that shares food with meâŚ.
Cursed Items
just wanted to share a few magical items that I wrote for the campaign Iâm currently running. Nothing too crazy since they are pretty low level right now. They all have a pretty strong drawback but since they are given by a hag in the story it made sense.
Biting Shield, Shield, Uncommon (requires attunement).
This leather shield has the face of a mimic on its exterior, constantly moving while it still has charge, otherwise the mimic is asleep, snoring from time to time. While holding this shield, you have a +1 bonus to AC. This bonus is in addition to the shieldâs normal bonus to AC. In addition, the shield has 3 charges, and it regains 1d3 expended charges daily at dawn. When a creature misses you with a melee weapon attack, you can use your reaction to expend 1 charge to make a melee weapon attack with the shield. On a hit, the target takes 1d8 piercing damage plus 1d8 acid damage. However, if you roll a natural 1 on this attack roll, you suffer the damage instead. Curse: This shield is cursed. Attuning to it curses you until you are targeted by the remove curse spell or similar magic. Removing the shield fails to end the curse on you. When you finish a long rest while in possession of the shield, you realize that some of your belongings have been gnawed on and one of your food ration disappeared. If you have no food ration left, you instead suffer 1d8 piercing damage plus 1d8 acid damage.
Dark Shard Pendant, Uncommon (requires attunement).
Made from a jagged black rock from the Shadowfell, the size of an arrow head, this pendant weigh heavily. While casting a spell, you can choose to cut yourself on the pendant, reducing your maximum hit points by 1d4 or 1d8 (your choice). The reduction lasts until you finish a long rest. You die if this effect reduces your maximum hit points to 0. The spell casted inflicts extra necrotic damage equal to the hit point reduction you suffered and has its DC increased by 1 (or 2 for 1d8 hit points reduction). Curse. Once you wear this cursed pendant, you canât remove it unless you are targeted by the remove curse spell or similar magic. When you finish a long rest wearing the pendant, you must succeed on a DC 10 Constitution saving throw or gain a level of exhaustion.
Huntsman Axe, Greataxe, Uncommon (requires attunement).
This single headed greateaxe has a steel blade with silver glowing Sylvan runes carved on it. You gain a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon. When you hit a shapechanger with this weapon, the shapechanger takes and extra 1d12 slashing damage. For the purpose of this weapon, âshapechangerâ refers to the tag shapechanger in any creatureâs type, including lycanthropes. Curse. This axe is cursed, and becoming attuned to it extends the curse to you. As long as you remain cursed, you are unwilling to part with the axe, keeping it within reach at all times. You also have disadvantage on attack rolls with weapons other than this one, unless no foe is within 60 feet of you that you can see or hear. The curse lasts until removed by the remove curse spell or other magic. Whenever you finish a long rest without having killed any creature of size Small or bigger, you must succeed on a DC 15 Wisdom saving throw or go berserk. While berserk, you must use your action each round to attack the creature nearest to you with the axe. If you can make extra attacks as part of the Attack action, you use those extra attacks, moving to attack the next nearest creature after you fell your current target. If you have multiple possible targets, you attack one at random. You are berserk until you start your turn with no creatures within 60 feet of you that you can see or hear.
Weeping Bow. Long Bow, Uncommon (requires attunement).
Made from black twisted wood of the Weeping Fen, this awful looking bow slowly seeps poisonous sap. When drawn, it seeps sap on the arrow, dealing an extra 1d6 poison damage to any target it hits. When the bow reduces a creature to 0 hit points, a thornvine sprouts from the body to lash out at a creature within 20 feet of it that you choose. That creature must succeed on a DC 15 Dexterity saving throw or be pulled 20 feet directly toward the vine and take 2d8 piercing damage. Curse. This bow is cursed, and becoming attuned to it extends the curse to you. As long as you remain cursed, you are unwilling to part with the bow, keeping it within reach at all times. The curse lasts until removed by the remove curse spell or other magic. While cursed, when you finish a long rest you must make a DC 10 Wisdom saving throw or fall unconscious for 7 days on a failed save. For every 24 hours that elapses, roots and thornvines grow and cover your body. While unconscious you fall into a state of suspended animation. Time ceases to flow for you, and you donât age. If you remain unconscious for 7 days, you die, and your body turns into a treant of chaotic evil alignment. You awaken if someone uses an action to kiss you.
The metal chestplate was warm. The processor beneath, a firey core. Their liquid cooling system unable to keep up with the demand. Your arms hold the bot close. The sound of disk drives saving this moment, this embrace barely audible. Their optic lens focused upon starstruck eyes, a slight adjustment causes the aperture to shrink and grow. You're both tired, and rest is so comfortable. The ticks of their hard drive harmonieses with the beat of your heart.
N'aww. Das nice. :3
For the non aussies these birds are the swoopy ones. They are adorable.

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If Cthulhu can be summoned by humans who are so far beneath it, why canât humans be summoned by ants? The answer is they should be.
Well if a bunch of ants formed a circle in my house Iâd certainly notice, try to figure out where theyâd all come from, and possibly wreak destruction there.
Thatâs why knowing and correctly pronouncing the true name is so important to the ritual. Imagine how impossible it would be to not go take a look if the circle of ants started chanting your name. And theyâre like, you canât leave because we drew a line made of tiny crystals - now you have to do us a favor. And youâre like, letâs just see where this goes âyup, you got me⌠whatâs the favor?â and usually the favor is like, âkill this one ant for usâ or âgive me a pile of sugarâ and youâre like⌠okay? and you do, because why not, it isnât hard for you and boy is this going to be a fucking story to tell, these fucking ants chanting your name and wanting a spoonful of sugar or whatever. And SOMEtimes you get asked for things you canât really do, one of them, sheâs like, âI love this ant but she wonât pay any attention to me, make me important to herâ and youâre like⌠um? how? So you just kill every ant in the colony except the two of them, ta-da! problem solved! and the first ant is like *horrified whisper* âwhat have I doneâ
for some reason my brain wonât let go of this one, soâŚ. Meanwhile another colony of ants invades your house, and evidently that last ant has gotten some of them to join her in a circle and taught them the ritual because youâre coming out of the bathroom one day and you hear the ants singing your name. Sure enough itâs that ant, but sheâs dark and fucked up now, and sheâs like, âkill the queen. I will rule this colonyâ and youâre like, sure, I guess I kinda owe her, and you do it. And she manages to become queen, and they worship you. Which is cool, youâre not, you know, very important in the human world, but to these ants youâre practically all-powerful. You canât be just, doing everything a bunch of ants tell you to, though, when would you watch netflx? So you tend to only show up for super important ants; you teach them some extra words and when hear them you go see whatâs up. Usually. Also just to your name, if youâre bored. And, sometimes some of the ants are like, tell us more human names, and youâre kind of jealous of the idea of some other human diluting your private godhood, so you refuse. Your roommate Greg is like, yo, thatâs fucking awesome, I want ant worshipers! But whenever he approaches any, they run away, because it turns out that the illusion of control from the named summoning is what makes them feel safe around you. Thatâs great, because Greg is a dick who never does the dishes, and one day you decide to teach Greg a lesson. So you show up at the colony, and youâre like, âyo, witch queen, did you think there would be no price for all these things? Your colony must do something for me, go to the Room of the Housemate, I will meet you there.â And you go sit on the couch and play Overwatch for a while. Youâre like, right there, you can clearly see the ants all marching along the wall to Gregâs room, but to them youâre not even there, youâre so far away they canât see you. It takes them, like, an ant week to make the journey. They have to figure out ways to get over and around things. Some of them drown, or get stepped on by the dog, or whatever. You win a game, you lose a game, you look over, and theyâre trying to get through some cobwebs⌠looks like theyâre mostly going to live, you keep playing, you look over, okay theyâre all in there, and you stand up and walk over and by the time theyâve chanted your name once, youâre there. âright, hold onâ and you look around and you see a twelve-pack of Gregâs precious fucking soda, that he keeps in his room and refuses to ever share, even though itâs a communal food household and you share your hot chocolate with him all the time. So you gather the ants unto you, and you poke a little hole in each of the sodas and you leave the room to the sound of the ants rejoicing. Greg will suspect of course, but heâll never be able to prove the ants didnât chew holes in the plastic and steal his stupid drinks. But later, while youâre at work, Greg destroys most of the colony in a rage, and you come home to find the witch queen gasping her last âthe Dew of the Mountain, which you had us steal, was cursed - and so I lay my curse on youâ and then she dies. Well first of all, you donât really believe in curses, but last month you didnât believe ants could know your name, so thatâs unsettling. And second of all, you feel kind of bad. You know, not SUPER bad, cause sheâs like, an ant. But still. And most importantly, third of all, Greg must pay. But Greg has done more than kill a bunch of the colony. As you wait for eggs and pupae to replenish the ant population, you discover he has found some ants that didnât go on the Mountain Dew raid, and heâs spared them, told them his name, and made himself a good sized cult in YOUR fucking ant queendom. Greg has started locking his door. So now you NEED the ants. Once again you direct the ants loyal to you to journey to Gregâs room. You meet them at the door. A locked door means nothing to the ants, they donât even know there is a door, and can barely perceive the difference between it being open and shut - either passing the threshold on the floor regardless, or being on its surface no matter the position. But you need them to get inside. Youâre going to put itching powder in his underwear drawer and leave a raw fish under his bed. So you instruct the leading party of ants how to go into the Cave of Keyhole, and position the Magic Megaliths inside just right to enable the opening of the Great Door and allow you to pass into the Realm of Housemate. Crouched by the door, you can hear when your ants are met by a party of Greg Cultists, who insist that if the Great Door is opened, the colony will be doomed. There is fighting. Your ants prevail, the lock tumblers are moved into place, and you swing the door open⌠To find Greg! In his room all along! Itâs a trap! His cultists attack you! I mean, they canât do much real harm, but it kind of hurts and itâs super annoying. You order your ants to attack him, and they do, but he storms over and pours bleach down the colony entrance. Now you and Greg are at war, and you both understand the unspoken rules to your fight. You canât do things directly to each other, why, that would be assault. But anything you can get your ants to do is fine, because âshe told the ants to do it to meâ isnât going to get very far with any authority figures that get involved. Later, nursing your anger, you confer with your few remaining ants and stare moodily at your new prize, the ant farm that came in the mail. Bullet ants donât usually get along with sugar ants, but youâre betting they will if a god tells them to. Meanwhile, youâve got a laptop schematic to go over with your high priestess. Itâs finals week, and if you time it right, heâll lose everythingâŚ
Feel free to add your own stories paralleling human/otherworldly with insect/human interactions! Iâm going to have this repost a few times because I want to see which of my mutuals are into this kind of thing because Iâm preparing to test drive a fiction share and writing prompt project
The Idea of the old gods obeying us not because of supernatural reason, but because they think itâs funny to watch the tiny animals fight IS the answer to everything
Damn that's a writing prompt if i ever seen one.
ATTENTION WRITERS
Google BetaBooks. Do it now. Itâs the best damn thing EVER.
You just upload your manuscript, write out some questions for your beta readers to answer in each chapter, and invite readers to check out your book!
Itâs SO easy!
You can even track your readers! It tells you when they last read, and what chapter they read!
Your beta readers can even highlight and react to the text!!!
Thereâs also this thing where you can search the website for available readers best suited for YOUR book!
Seriously guys, BetaBooks is the most useful website in the whole world when it comes to beta reading, and⌠ITâS FREE.
Will be investigating this.
@guardianofscrewingup
@snakeslipstream
Reenactor throws a spear at a drone
What a time to be alive.
âThe medieval warrior, realizing the consequences of his impulsive act, immediately approached the owner of the drone and offered to pay for the damage.
The owner of the drone was so impressed by the brilliant attack that he suggested organizing a competition for bringing down âdragonsâ with short spears next year.
Drone owners have another year to develop a unique âdragon-likeâ design for their flying machines.â (x)
I am 100% cooler with this knowing that the spear-thrower realized âoops maybe I shouldnât have done thatâ and tried to make it right, and that the guy who the drone belonged to was cool with it
just so everyone knows, this has already been memorialized in a runestone
Everything about this post blesses those involved with a +4 on their next Today is Good Day roll
I crack up every time at seeing that runestone.Â
Every time this comes up on my dash I think of @thatsupport
An interesting sci-fi short story from 4chan.
[Imgur]
That is some fine writing.
The Imgur link is broken so:
[Series of posts on 09/16/11]
About twelve years ago, a man died in high orbit over Tau Ceti V.
His name was Drake McDougal, and aside from a few snapshots and vague anecdotes from his drinking buddies, thatâs probably all weâll ever know about him. Another colony-born man with little records and little documentation, working whatever asteroid field the Dracs deigned to allow them. Every now and then a Drac gunship would strut on through the system, Pax Draconia and all that. But that was it.
One fine day, one of those gunships had a misjump. A bad one. It arrived only ninety clicks above atmo, with all its impellers blown out by the gravatic feedback of Tau Ceti Vâs gravity well. The Dracs scraped enough power together for a good system-wide broadbeam and were already beginning the Death Chant when they hit atmo.
People laughed at the recording of sixty Dracs going from mysterious chanting to ââwhat-the-fuckâingâ for years after they forgot the name Drake McDougal. The deafening âCLANGâ and split second of stunned silence afterwards never failed to entertain. Drake had performed a hasty re-entry seconds after the gunship and partially slagged his heatshield diving after it. Experts later calculated he suffered 11Gs when he leaned on the retro to match velocities with the Dracs long enough to engage the mag-grapples on his little mining tug.
Even the massively overpowered drive of a tug has its limits, and Drakeâs little ship hit hers about one and a half minutes later. Pushed too far, the tugâs fusion plant lost containment just as he finished slingshotting the gunship into low orbit. (It was unharmed, of course; the Drac opinion of fusion power best translated as âquaint,â kind of how we view butter churns.)
It was on the local news within hours, on newsnets across human space within days. It was discussed, memorialized, marveled upon, chewed over by daytime talk-show hosts, and I think somebody even bought a plaque or some shit like that. Then there was a freighter accident, and a mass-shooting on Orbital 5, and of course, the first Vandal attacks in the periphery.
The galaxy moved on.
Twelve years is a long time, especially during war, so twelve years later, as the Vandalâs main fleet was jumping in near Jupiter and we were strapping into the crash couches of what wee enthusiastically called âwarships,â I guaran-fucking-tee you not one man in the entire Defense Force could remember who Drake McDougal was.
Well, the Dracs sure as hell did.
Dracs do not fuck around. Dozens of two-kilometer long Drac supercaps jumped in barely 90K klicks away, and then we just stood around staring at our displays like the slack-jawed apes we were as we watched what a real can of galactic whoop-ass looked like. You could actually see the atmosphere of Jupiter roil occasionally when a Vandal ship happened to cross between it and the Drac fleet. Thereâs still lightning storms on Jupiter now, something about residual heavy ions and massive static charges or something.
Fifty-eight hours later, with every Vandal ship reduced to slagged debris and nine wounded Drac ships spinning about as they vented atmosphere, they started with the broad-band chanting again. And then the communiquĂŠ that confused the hell out of us all.
âDo you hold out debt fulfilled?â
After the sixth or seventh comms officer told them âwe donât know what the hell youâre talking aboutâ as politely as possible, the Drac fleet commander got on the horn and asked to speak to a human Admiral in roughly the same tone as a telemarketer telling a kid to give the phone to Daddy. When the Admiral didnât know either, the Drac went silent for a minute, and when he came back on his translator was using much smaller words, and talking slower.
âIs our blood debt to Drake McDougalâs clan now satisfied?â
The Admiral said âWho?â
What the Drac commander said next wouldâve caused a major diplomatic incident had he remembered to revert to the more complex translation protocols. He thought the Admiral must be an idiot, a coward, or both. Eventually, the diplomats were called out, and we were asked why the human race has largely forgotten the sacrifice of Drake McDougal.
Humans, we explained, sacrifice themselves all the time.
We trotted out every news clip from the space-wide Nets from the last twelve years. Some freighter cook that fell on a grenade during a pirate raid on Outreach. A ship engineer who locked himself into the reactor room and kept containment until the crew evacuated. Firefighter who died shielding a child from falling debris with his body, during an earthquake. Stuff like that.
That Dracs were utterly stunned. Their diplomats wandered out of the conference room in a daze. Weâd just told them that the rarest, most selfless and honorable of acts - acts that incurred generations-long blood-debts and moved entire fleets - was so routine for our species that they were bumped off the news by the latest celebrity scandal.
Everything changed for humanity after that. And it was all thanks to a single tug pilot who taught the galaxy what truly defines Man.
bloodthirsty moira mains are vaild
bloodthirst moira mains make some noise!!!!!!
Death is the strongest form of croud control.

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If I owned you for 24 hours I'd just want you to do all those fire tricks you know
Id do that without the indentured servitude. I actually bought fuel recently...
REBLOG IF YOU WANT TO HEAR WHAT YOUR FOLLOWERS WOULD DO IF THEY OWNED YOU FOR 24 HOURS
Honestly this could be interesting
Just do it in anon so I donât get embarrassed đł