#co-op tactics

[fogaminghub]

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🎉 Hey, gamers! If you're a GTA+ Member, you're in for a treat! Get your hands on a FREE Enus Deity sedan along with a bunch of exciting weekly rewards throughout September. From discounts to unique outfits, discover all the incredible GTA+ rewards waiting for you! 🚗✨ Read the full post for all the details! 

[techdriveplay]

A Short Guide to Helldivers 2

Welcome to the action-packed world of Helldivers 2, where the battle for democracy spans across hostile exoplanets teeming with alien threats. At first glance, Helldivers 2 might seem like your typical co-op shooter: drop into enemy territory, unleash havoc on alien foes, and extract before the peril overwhelms you. Yet, delve a bit deeper, and you’ll discover a complex game ripe with strategies,…

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Leveraged buyouts are not like mortgages

I'm coming to DEFCON! On FRIDAY (Aug 9), I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On SATURDAY (Aug 10), I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

Here's an open secret: the confusing jargon of finance is not the product of some inherent complexity that requires a whole new vocabulary. Rather, finance-talk is all obfuscation, because if we called finance tactics by their plain-language names, it would be obvious that the sector exists to defraud the public and loot the real economy.

Take "leveraged buyout," a polite name for stealing a whole goddamned company:

Identify a company that owns valuable assets that are required for its continued operation, such as the real-estate occupied by its outlets, or even its lines of credit with suppliers;

Approach lenders (usually banks) and ask for money to buy the company, offering the company itself (which you don't own!) as collateral on the loan;

Offer some of those loaned funds to shareholders of the company and convince a key block of those shareholders (for example, executives with large stock grants, or speculators who've acquired large positions in the company, or people who've inherited shares from early investors but are disengaged from the operation of the firm) to demand that the company be sold to the looters;

Call a vote on selling the company at the promised price, counting on the fact that many investors will not participate in that vote (for example, the big index funds like Vanguard almost never vote on motions like this), which means that a minority of shareholders can force the sale;

Once you own the company, start to strip-mine its assets: sell its real-estate, start stiffing suppliers, fire masses of workers, all in the name of "repaying the debts" that you took on to buy the company.

This process has its own euphemistic jargon, for example, "rightsizing" for layoffs, or "introducing efficiencies" for stiffing suppliers or selling key assets and leasing them back. The looters – usually organized as private equity funds or hedge funds – will extract all the liquid capital – and give it to themselves as a "special dividend." Increasingly, there's also a "divi recap," which is a euphemism for borrowing even more money backed by the company's assets and then handing it to the private equity fund:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/17/divi-recaps/#graebers-ghost

If you're a Sopranos fan, this will all sound familiar, because when the (comparatively honest) mafia does this to a business, it's called a "bust-out":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bust_Out

The mafia destroys businesses on a onesy-twosey, retail scale; but private equity and hedge funds do their plunder wholesale.

It's how they killed Red Lobster:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/23/spineless/#invertebrates

And it's what they did to hospitals:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/28/5000-bats/#charnel-house

It's what happened to nursing homes, Armark, private prisons, funeral homes, pet groomers, nursing homes, Toys R Us, The Olive Garden and Pet Smart:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/02/plunderers/#farben

It's what happened to the housing co-ops of Cooper Village, Texas energy giant TXU, Old Country Buffet, Harrah's and Caesar's:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/14/billionaire-class-solidarity/#club-deals

And it's what's slated to happen to 2.9m Boomer-owned US businesses employing 32m people, whose owners are nearing retirement:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/16/schumpeterian-terrorism/#deliberately-broken

Now, you can't demolish that much of the US productive economy without attracting some negative attention, so the looter spin-machine has perfected some talking points to hand-wave away the criticism that borrowing money using something you don't own as collateral in order to buy it and wreck it is obviously a dishonest (and potentially criminal) destructive practice.

The most common one is that borrowing money against an asset you don't own is just like getting a mortgage. This is such a badly flawed analogy that it is really a testament to the efficacy of the baffle-em-with-bullshit gambit to convince us all that we're too stupid to understand how finance works.

Sure: if I put an offer on your house, I will go to my credit union and ask the for a mortgage that uses your house as collateral. But the difference here is that you own your house, and the only way I can buy it – the only way I can actually get that mortgage – is if you agree to sell it to me.

Owner-occupied homes typically have uncomplicated ownership structures. Typically, they're owned by an individual or a couple. Sometimes they're the property of an estate that's divided up among multiple heirs, whose relationship is mediated by a will and a probate court. Title can be contested through a divorce, where disputes are settled by a divorce court. At the outer edge of complexity, you get things like polycules or lifelong roommates who've formed an LLC s they can own a house among several parties, but the LLC will have bylaws, and typically all those co-owners will be fully engaged in any sale process.

Leveraged buyouts don't target companies with simple ownership structures. They depend on firms whose equity is split among many parties, some of whom will be utterly disengaged from the firm's daily operations – say, the kids of an early employee who got a big stock grant but left before the company grew up. The looter needs to convince a few of these "owners" to force a vote on the acquisition, and then rely on the idea that many of the other shareholders will simply abstain from a vote. Asset managers are ubiquitous absentee owners who own large stakes in literally every major firm in the economy. The big funds – Vanguard, Blackrock, State Street – "buy the whole market" (a big share in every top-capitalized firm on a given stock exchange) and then seek to deliver returns equal to the overall performance of the market. If the market goes up by 5%, the index funds need to grow by 5%. If the market goes down by 5%, then so do those funds. The managers of those funds are trying to match the performance of the market, not improve on it (by voting on corporate governance decisions, say), or to beat it (by only buying stocks of companies they judge to be good bets):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/17/shareholder-socialism/#asset-manager-capitalism

Your family home is nothing like one of these companies. It doesn't have a bunch of minority shareholders who can force a vote, or a large block of disengaged "owners" who won't show up when that vote is called. There isn't a class of senior managers – Chief Kitchen Officer! – who have been granted large blocks of options that let them have a say in whether you will become homeless.

Now, there are homes that fit this description, and they're a fucking disaster. These are the "heirs property" homes, generally owned by the Black descendants of enslaved people who were given the proverbial 40 acres and a mule. Many prosperous majority Black settlements in the American South are composed of these kinds of lots.

Given the historical context – illiterate ex-slaves getting property as reparations or as reward for fighting with the Union Army – the titles for these lands are often muddy, with informal transfers from parents to kids sorted out with handshakes and not memorialized by hiring lawyers to update the deeds. This has created an irresistible opportunity for a certain kind of scammer, who will pull the deeds, hire genealogists to map the family trees of the original owners, and locate distant descendants with homeopathically small claims on the property. These descendants don't even know they own these claims, don't even know about these ancestors, and when they're offered a few thousand bucks for their claim, they naturally take it.

Now, armed with a claim on the property, the heirs property scammers force an auction of it, keeping the process under wraps until the last instant. If they're really lucky, they're the only bidder and they can buy the entire property for pennies on the dollar and then evict the family that has lived on it since Reconstruction. Sometimes, the family will get wind of the scam and show up to bid against the scammer, but the scammer has deep capital reserves and can easily win the auction, with the same result:

https://www.propublica.org/series/dispossessed

A similar outrage has been playing out for years in Hawai'i, where indigenous familial claims on ancestral lands have been diffused through descendants who don't even know they're co-owner of a place where their distant cousins have lived since pre-colonial times. These descendants are offered small sums to part with their stakes, which allows the speculator to force a sale and kick the indigenous Hawai'ians off their family lands so they can be turned into condos or hotels. Mark Zuckerberg used this "quiet title and partition" scam to dispossess hundreds of Hawai'ian families:

https://archive.is/g1YZ4

Heirs property and quiet title and partition are a much better analogy to a leveraged buyout than a mortgage is, because they're ways of stealing something valuable from people who depend on it and maintain it, and smashing it and selling it off.

Strip away all the jargon, and private equity is just another scam, albeit one with pretensions to respectability. Its practitioners are ripoff artists. You know the notorious "carried interest loophole" that politicians periodically discover and decry? "Carried interest" has nothing to do with the interest on a loan. The "carried interest" rule dates back to 16th century sea-captains, and it refers to the "interest" they had in the cargo they "carried":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/29/writers-must-be-paid/#carried-interest

Private equity managers are like sea captains in exactly the same way that leveraged buyouts are like mortgages: not at all.

And it's not like private equity is good to its investors: scams like "continuation funds" allow PE looters to steal all the money they made from strip mining valuable companies, so they show no profits on paper when it comes time to pay their investors:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/20/continuation-fraud/#buyout-groups

Those investors are just as bamboozled as we are, which is why they keep giving more money to PE funds. Today, the "dry powder" (uninvested money) that PE holds has reached an all-time record high of $2.62 trillion – money from pension funds and rich people and sovereign wealth funds, stockpiled in anticipation of buying and destroying even more profitable, productive, useful businesses:

https://www.institutionalinvestor.com/article/2di1vzgjcmzovkcea8f0g/portfolio/private-equitys-dry-powder-mountain-reaches-record-height

The practices of PE are crooked as hell, and it's only the fact that they use euphemisms and deceptive analogies to home mortgages that keeps them from being shut down. The more we strip away the bullshit, the faster we'll be able to kill this cancer, and the more of the real economy we'll be able to preserve.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/05/rugged-individuals/#misleading-by-analogy

[velteris]

If Zoltraak so OP, why doesn’t Frieren/Copyren use it to fight each other?: a silly tactics essay

Madhouse is absolutely killing it with their gorgeous fight scenes that also make more sense the more you dig into them. In this episode, it's the senior citizen fight scene, where Frieren busts out the scary spells for the first time after telling us that Zoltraak is fast, efficient, powerful, the best combat spell etc etc. So why don't they use it against each other? The answer is this 2-second scene:

Let’s review what we’ve been told about Zoltraak. It’s “piercing magic that pierced through the defensive magic of humans and magic resistant equipment, and directly destroyed the body”. Zoltraak is generally good at destroying physical things.

In turn, the hexagonal shield magic—as Qual deduces—“synchronises with offensive magic and disperses the power”. But this costs lots of mana, and is weak against attacks of physical mass.

The rock-paper-scissors of modern magic is, then, Zoltraak-shield-physical mass.

Another note: it seems possible to cast both a shield and another offensive magic (maybe only Zoltraak?) at the same time, as in Frieren and Denken’s duel, and as with Methode vs golems.

Back to the Frierens.

Zoltraak is fast, efficient in mana usage, and powerful. It’s “enough for mages of the modern era”. Frieren and Fern usually spam this one spell; Copyren also uses it against Denken and co. So they would like to open with it.

Knowing that, they both bring up the hexagonal shield, ready to disperse Zoltraak. But, they both realize that Frieren’s Zoltraak cannot defeat Frieren’s hexagon shield. Edel states the two methods of getting past a shield: breaking it by force, or bypassing it with speed. Neither can get a single Zoltraak off strong enough that can shatter the corresponding shield, so they start shifting their aim, but they react just as fast to each other so there’s no openings.

Then what about multiple Zoltraaks? Presumably they could both keep the shields up while also casting Zoltraak, so they could turtle down into a battle of attrition and see who makes a minor inefficient mistake. But! Copyren is facing two mages, not one. It will definitely lose in a shield-whittling contest. Even if they had infinite mana, if they sit there playing chicken with the shields, Fern will eventually blast it from behind.

Additional hypothesis: the mana used to defend against an attack with a hexagon shield will always be greater than the mana used to make the attack. Therefore, a mage should aim to always be on the offensive. In Ehre vs Fern, Fern kept creating distance and refused to get pinned down; Ehre got pinned down and that’s why she lost. Both Frierens have a motive to use as little defensive magic and as much offensive magic as possible.

Sadly, it’s a pretty empty room, with not much physical mass to use against each other; Copyren in particular probably wants to avoid eating up the walls of Spiegel’s hideaway. So they need to cast offensive magic, that isn’t Zoltraak, and that doesn’t need existing physical mass.

Before Zoltraak leading to shield leading to mass attacks, it’s likely there wasn’t that much of a need for physical mass specifically. Edel says it takes more mana to conjure than it does to manipulate the environment. But if mass isn’t a requirement, then ye olde mages probably wouldn’t have focused on magics with the weakness of, say, needing a water source nearby (sorry Kanne). It makes sense that old-fashioned attacks were therefore magics that expressed some kind of energy without significant mass: fire, lightning, wind. (Ty @wtfoctagon for laying out this pre-Zoltraak idea!)

Simultaneously, this brings up an interesting question: what kind of defence were pre-Zoltraak (therefore pre-hexagon) mages using?

1. Some other [Defence Magic], but weaker

2. A Warrior

3. More offence!

Forget this newfangled modern mass stuff. Frieren and Copyren go right back to Cast Fireball, the force of which can be dissipated and defended against with Cast Fireball.

Not using the hexagonal shield is actually a more mana-efficient defence. If Zoltraak’s out of the question, then there’s no real need to invest in the heavy anti-Zoltraak shield. And we have already seen a previous example of offence as defence: Fern vs Lugner.

We also see one more example of this kind of old-fashioned mass-less attack in the other senior citizen brawl, where Denken uses Waldgose (tornado) + Daosdorg (fire). It eats up enough mana that even Denken is tapped out by the end. Of course, for Frieren vs Denken, she has so much more mana that there’s no problem spending it on a full-body shield. But if she did the same versus her clone, she would rapidly start losing the attrition battle. So she has to defend with a less costly though much messier method.

One more advantage of non-mass elemental magic: for Copyren, using Hellfire magic is much more of an area-of-effect spell, which might be able to touch Fern as well. For Frieren, it’s a no-brainer to go along with splashing mana everywhere, to help hide Fern’s presence.

Of course, that’s not to say that they won’t take advantage of mass when it exists. The use of Hellfire to make lava out of the falling pillar/wall is a delicious and nutritious anime original addition, and it also makes so much sense.

tl;dr: the Frierens tested and discarded the possibility of a modern-style Zoltraak fight in as much time as it takes us to say "holy shit".

all this of course brings up the question:

If Frieren so OP against Zoltraak, why can Fern use Zoltraak?

because Fern’s OP OP Zoltraak go brrrrr

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Hey, Jealousy

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, SMUT HEAVY CHAPTER, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: HELLO ALL! It's been a minute! This fic isn't going anywhere by any means, just had a bit of writer's block and lack of motivation to write for a bite lol. A special thank you to @lethalchiralium for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

“This is your target. Memorize it.” John paused as the surveillance photo of their target, a dark-haired woman with almond-shaped eyes, made its way between the trio. He placed a black cell phone in the center of the table while Soap regarded the image. “Freyja, you’re the best pickpocket out of all of us. Your task is to lift her phone and swap it out with the duplicate. Rumor has it there’s a major weapon’s deal rearing up, and I want to know when and where.”

Taking a moment to examine the photo now pinched between her thumb and forefinger, Freyja raised a brow. While she wasn’t one to judge solely based on appearances (a tactic she relied upon herself many times), the woman pictured looked far from an arms dealer. She seemed fairly young. “She has the details?”

Price nodded and partially sat on the table, arms crossed over his chair. “She’s the buyer. Rather unassuming, I know, but our intel is good.”

“Bloody hell,” Ghost mumbled, leaning into her space to sneak a peek. “They just keep gettin’ younger and younger…”

“Ah dinnae mean to be rude, but Ghost’s no’ exactly inconspicuous. A bit hard nae tae notice a giant with headgear at a social event.”

A fair point. Ghost was the tallest member of the team outside of König.

“Which is why you will be partnered with the Captain.” Freyja didn’t miss how her husband’s watchful gaze flickered between her and her co-captain. “You’ll have to couple it up to blend in; a single woman at an event like this would draw suspicion. Ghost will be going undercover as security detail and watch your six.”

“Me? Are ye sure, Captain?”

“Affirmative, Sergeant. I’d rather not have another incident like last time.”

“Last time?” Johnny looked between them. “What happened last time?”

THEN

It should’ve been a simple task, really. A pretty young woman lures a gullible, unsuspecting new hire to a roped-off room with certain expectations, only to be met with the cold steel of a knife to their throat.

As expected, the information burst from the young man’s lips like water through a broken dam, hoping to save his own skin. The quick execution Ghost offered was a mercy compared to what would happen if his boss found out he had snitched.

He could be merciful when he wanted to be.

The Simon she married was not a jealous man. A younger Ghost, at the beginning of their… “situationship”, however…

After the body was stuffed in the room’s closet, hopefully not to be found until at least the next day, he wasted no time hoisting Freyja up against a wall with ease and fucking her senseless. Her legs tightened around his waist immediately, her Venetian mask coming loose at the sudden movement and falling to the floor.

“Yes, right there. Hah, hah, nngh-”

“See what you do to me?” he growled against her cheek, hips snapping against her shaking thighs. “Can’t even get through a fucking mission without my cock gettin’ hard, and you’re over there, actin’ like a slag. Touchin’ that bastard like that-”

“I was just - doing - my job-”

Ghost’s brutal pace stopped and pinned her to the wall. One hand no longer supporting her weight, jumped from her ass to her throat, the bare, calloused skin squeezing the sides. 

“You took it too far. I should leave you high and dry for the show you put on.”

Her fingers scratched at the short hair near the base of his neck, earning a warning sound from the man. Freyja wriggled her hips to find some kind of friction, a release. “Fuck fuck fuck – please, Ghost, don’t stop. Make me come, please–”

“Yeah? Y’want me to make you come?”

“Yes, yes, please! Please, I need to come–”

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, so sorry! Fuck me!”

“You’re fuckin’ lucky I’m feelin’ forgiving.”

“Oh shit, thank you, thank you, I’m sorry–”

“You’d better be.”

NOW

The sergeant looked between Price and the couple, studying Price’s lifted brow and Freyja’s pressed lips and flushed skin. Ghost snorted beside her, which got him a sharp jab from his wife’s elbow.

“Bunch o’ rabbits, you two!” he snickered, laughing into his fist. Just how they managed to bone in the field so often, he’d never know. “It’s a miracle ye don’t have a thousand wee bairns by now.”

“Could’ve had them discharged for the mess I had to listen to.” 

“We said we’re sorry!”

“No, you said you were sorry. I won’t apologize if I don’t mean it.”

“I’m going to kill you–”

John cut them off, standing again and collecting his paperwork. “The target rarely comes out of hiding, so we can’t risk spooking her. Freyja, Soap, you’d better sell it.”

“Oh, I’ll make it believable, a’right.”

“And if somehow you find a way around this arrangement – please, for the love of God, no shagging on the job,” Price stressed, pointing at each of them for emphasis. “Got it?”

Johnny raised his hand.  “Ah would just like tae point out that, for once, I’m the good egg here,” he pointed out with a wide grin.

Multiple sets of eyes rolled. “Right then. Dapper up. I’ll see you all tonight.”

Ecstatic about their upcoming mission, the Scot jumped up from his seat, still beaming. He was already bubbling with ideas for their strategy, the backstory of the characters they would play, what he was going to wear–

“Johnny.”

“Sir?”

Ghost leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees as he looked up at the man. “Remember what I said about flirtin’ with my wife?”

“Aye.”

“Still in effect.”

.

.

.

Soap made it his mission to be as handsy as humanly possible the moment they stepped out of their vehicle. Ever the gentleman, he stuck behind Freyja when taking the steps up the grandiose front stairs into the venue; once at the top, his hand slipped across her lower back from one hip to the next.

Both operators kept their attire simple yet appropriate for the dress code. They complimented each other nicely; Johnny sported a simple black suit and a white collared shirt with the top two buttons undone, while Freyja donned a rich, dark purple, satin gown with an open back dipping to her tailbone. They were meant to fit in, not draw attention to themselves.

When they entered the ballroom, crystal chandeliers twinkling above, she glanced around the perimeter at the masked guards. Only taking in their stature for a second before moving on to the next, attempting to locate their backup –

There.

Ghost blended in seamlessly, dressed exactly like the other guards stationed around the room. All black ensemble, black combat boots, and a balaclava with a window for the eyes. They met briefly with Frey’s before she shifted her gaze up to her date, placing one hand on top of his at her side, the other between his shoulder blades.

All night, Ghost’s stare could have burned a hole through her skin straight down to her soul as her partner positively manhandled her. Nothing was safe. Her ass, hips, bare shoulders, and stomach were frequently groped, pinched, and caressed; you name it, Sergeant MacTavish did it. He came up from behind with a champagne flute for her, pressing against her as his hands snaked around to cradle her belly. Kissing obviously wasn’t off the table, his warm lips frequently finding hers; he had enough decency to keep that portion of the night brief.

Finally, after an hour and a half of loving it up with her husband’s best friend, Johnny turned Freyja into a pillar, forcing her to squeak in surprise. Gentle kisses pecked from her collar up to her ear, using his body as a shield.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispered, keeping up the appearance of a drunk, handsy couple by carding her fingers through the back of his mohawk.

He chuckled against her hair. “That’s the idea, Hen. Figure one o’ us should get a good fuck outta tonight.” Frey rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to shove him. “Eyes on the target. She’s had a chance tae get settled. Move in on yer mark.”

She followed his guidance, subtle pressure at the base of her skull pointing her in the direction of their target. Thankfully, a small purse dangled by the woman’s pelvis on a long chain, ripe for the picking. If all went according to plan, Soap would walk them into each other, allowing her to switch the dummy in his pocket with the real thing.

Freyja initiated their objective by stepping in that direction but allowed her companion to take the lead. Clinging to his bicep and stumbling slightly, she whined, “You are in so much trouble when we get home!”

“Aw, c’mon Bonnie! Ah just cannae help myself!” he purred, bending to nibble her ear and give her a reason to jerk away.

“Hey, stop that!” As she lunged to the left, she fell out of the Sergeant’s grasp and into the young woman, grabbing her to keep upright. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“What the fuck!” She wheeled on them, eyes wide at the sudden intrusion into her conversation. “Watch where you’re going!”

Freyja huffed angrily in Johnny’s direction, straightening herself and her dress. “I am so sorry about him. You know how men can be. Always impatient.”

“Unfortunately,” the woman mumbled, nose turned up in disgust. If Freyja could rely on anything, she could always lean on most women’s mutual distaste for men. While it always felt distasteful to manipulate while undercover, it got the job done.

With a soft huff, Freyja grabbed Soap’s hand again and departed with a soft wave, tugging him toward their exit point. Ghost was nowhere in sight.

According to plan, the Brit had dipped into the women’s bathroom when he was sure the lift was successful, and they would eventually follow. Going into the bathroom after two people clearly looking for a space to hook up would look suspicious. The real trick was leaving enough time between their entrances that nobody would notice, without waiting too long for the other guards to notice Ghost’s absence.

She used her best high-pitched, giggling squeal and ditzy movements, swatting at the wandering hands pawing at the shiny, smooth material of her outfit. It had been at least two minutes since Ghost had disappeared, and she decided that was enough leeway for them to follow without raising any alarms. But just as her palm pressed against the cool doorknob, her ally stopped behind her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Freyja felt the abdominal muscles under Soap’s shirt tense; otherwise, his composure remained unchanged. “Sorry?” he asked with a laugh, keeping his body turned toward her. She refrained from ripping the stranger’s hand off Johnny’s shoulder and ripping back his ring finger–

The man smiled, perfect white teeth nearly sparkling in the light. “Ye owe meh a drink! C’mon, one more shot fur a fellow Scotsman?”

“Shite! Ah completely forgot!” Johnny hovered over her still and bent to run his nose along the shell of her ear. “Ah’ll be right behind ye. Just give me a fiver to finish my drink, aye?”

“Sure thing.” Freyja hung her hands on the lapels of his jacket, anchoring him in place to stretch and purr in his ear, “Don’t take too long.”

She was so fucking dead when they got home. Likely won’t walk right for days.

Barely halfway through the door, a firm grip pulled her into the room, slammed the door shut with her body, then wrapped around her throat. Her heels brought her just a bit closer to her husband’s height, brown eyes practically set ablaze. Ghost had abandoned his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his button-down, exposing the black ink on one forearm.

I should put in for a day or two off.

“Did you not learn your lesson last time?” Ghost asked, low-pitched and gravelly as if he had been restraining himself for hours. He probably had been. “Must’ve been too generous. Let’s try this again.” A man on a mission, he swiftly twisted the lock on the handle and hauled her with him several steps away from the door before forcing Freyja to her knees. His touch moved to cup her jaw.

“Broke my fucking finger watching him touch you, touch what’s mine. This mouth-” His digits snatched her cheeks, making her painted lips purse with a soft whimper. “-is mine. Your cunt is mine. Your body is mine – facts you’ve apparently forgotten. Let me remind you.”

Freyja gulped helplessly when his other hand slid the leather strap of his belt out of the buckle, then looked up at him through her mascara-coated lashes.

“Soap-“

“I. Don’t. Care. Do it.”

Her cheeks were enflamed under her blush, but she still raised a brow at him. Again, Simon wasn’t known to be a jealous man; they were very secure in their relationship, trusting each other completely. Plus, Johnny was in a committed, loving relationship, after all. But still, watching his best friend all over her, purposefully egging him on and pushing boundaries…

Anyone would lose their patience.

Her nails, painted to match her color scheme for the evening, worked at undoing his slacks and dropping them and his underwear down enough to free his already hard member. Slacks which, by the way, were fitted perfectly to hug his ungodly figure. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight, her hole already clenching around nothing. 

As if he had read her mind, Ghost seized the back of her head and snarled, “I’m beginning to lose my patience, love.”

Suddenly he was buried down her throat, to the hilt. Tears sprang to her eyes; she moved to dig into his thighs for purchase, which earned her additional pressure at the back of her head. “No touching.”

All Freyja could do was blink up at him and hold her hands behind her back, hoping he understood the message. Thankfully, he let up and slowly drew out before easing back in, fucking her throat with soft moans and the occasional curse. Ghost groaned at the sight of his precum and her spit gathering in his blond curlies, her dark lipstick smudging on his cock, tear streaks running lines in her makeup…

She flattened her tongue, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm while breathing through her nose and intermittently taking him until her nose was enshrouded in coarse hair. Even if she wasn’t getting off, and Ghost’s pretty face was hidden by his mask, the expressions in his eyes as she edged him toward his release were almost as satisfying.

“Fuck, you like that?” he questioned, hoarse and needy. “Almost like you were – hngh, shit – hoping I’d p-punish you.”

Even submissive, vulnerable on her knees before him and choking on his cock, Freyja still made him stutter and whimper. How many hours had he spent uncomfortably hard, keeping his dutiful post as their backup? Observing the near obscene show Soap had put on?

Ghost leaned his torso forward, supporting his weight against the wall with his free hand. He didn’t have to tell her he was close; even with his controlled breathing, his eyes threatening to flutter shut was a dead giveaway. Still, the head of his cock popped out of her mouth, garnering her attention again.

“How much of me can you take?”

“All of it.”

“Bloody hell…” He presented himself again, the hooded tip resting against her lips. “Lick.”

She immediately ducked under him and laid her tongue against the vein on the underside of his dick, applying soft, slow pressure to the tip again before taking him back in her mouth. Freyja picked up the speed and hummed around him, pushing (or rather, pulling) him closer and closer…

“Fucking shit – take it, take it, take it–”

His warm cum spilled down her throat, but she continued slowly guiding Ghost through his orgasm as he pulsated and huffed quietly above her. Freyja basked in the way he flinched, eyes closed as her touch bordered on overstimulating and torturous.

Satisfied and out of breath, Ghost jerked his hips away to avoid any more of her touch and offered his wife his hands. She immediately took them and was pulled to her feet effortlessly with a moment to find her balance. When he was finished tucking himself back into his trousers and fastening his belt again, Ghost slid the delicate strap of her dress that had slipped off her shoulder back into place, his gentle touch dragging across her skin.

Freyja was about to speak when the door rattled, someone trying to open it before they both heard a familiar accent on the other side. “Bonnie? ‘S me, open up.”

She gestured for him to stand out of sight for a moment while she unlocked the door and opened it just enough to let Soap in, careful not to expose her current state to others who may be watching from the party. When it was closed and secured again, Johnny took in their appearances; Freyja, clearly dazed with her hair tousled and makeup smudged, and Ghost, with his fly down, shirt untucked, and blazer tossed carelessly onto the sink.

Then, with the absolute, most shit-eating grin, said, “Ye’r welcome, Hen.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67

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[bluetooththereptile]

Okay I came from the dead to just post an idea and the disappear again, leaving it here to both know your ideas and keep it for the record and develop it when I finally come back.

So, what if...

You were the villianess in a DC based otome game?

Yeah, yeah! I like to read those whacky Korean manhuwa stuff about otome games and reincarnation of the op in them as villians and stuff, so I want to give it a dc twist! Well bat family twist to be exact cos why not!

The villianess is Selina's kitten and her father and his family HATE her to her guts cos she hurts their little darling, you, so they try get rid of her in the end of the game, in each route she causes a different havoc to get rid of the little darling to take revenge for her neglect from her family, but in the end she end up dead in horrific ways, sure it's justified when you play the game from outside cos you are the one who's targeted, but what if, and what IF, you become the villianess in the story instead?

Different routes, Different tactics and you struggle to not die, but poor little you, the system of the game already has been set to fail. And by choosing to be a good girl you are set up to a much darker place.

Oh darling didn't you read the developer's note in the description box of the app your purchased?

It's a horror game.

[felassan]

Mark Meer: "Dropped by the @/Modiphius booth at @/Gen_Con to check out their new @/masseffect board game! Thanks for having me, folks. 😎 #/GenCon2024 #/MassEffect" [source] Modiphius: "It was a pleasure having you stop by! So glad you liked the minis" [source] --- Calvin Wong Tze Loon, board game co-designer: "hi devon! hope we can meet one day, was lovely working on the game" [source] Devon Gardner, Consumer Products Licensing Manager at BioWare Edmonton: "I hope so too! Had so much fun working on the game, your knowledge and revence for the Mass Effect universe was/is inspiring. :) Surreal to see it all out there with people playing!" [source] Calvin: "listen how else are we to spread the gospel of calibrations" [source]

Some more from the upcoming Mass Effect board game, which had playable demos at Gen Con this weekend just past. :) the rest of this post is under a cut due to length.

The game will be $50 (they were aiming for $40 but didn't make it) and is co-op but also one player. the game contains 12 dice, 2 books, 5 character sheets, like 40 cards, 6 minis (for painting if you like), tokens and a rulebook. the game will also be available in Spanish. the game includes calibrations hh. they hope to release in "Novemberish"/Q4. it also sounds like they plan to create expansions for it!

it sounds like everyone who played the game at Gen Con during the demos loved it! co-designer of the board game Calvin Wong Tze Loon (who designed things such as abilities and lore for it) shared some insights about the creation of the game, and the feedback folks who played it at the con had, on Twitter:

"'even people who didn't play mass effect liked it' this makes me so happy because this was one of our target audiences. people who enjoy games but aren't necessarily fans of the series. aaaaaaaaaa" [source] "'solved many problems the genre typically struggles with' also really proud of this. as huge tactics nerds Eric and I are always trying to sand down issues that get between the player and the game. clunky line of sight. long set up. lots of admin and bookkeeping." [source] "'got to do [classic thing favorite character does] what more can you ask for' i put many, many, many hours into the character abilities. this was really hard. asymmetric but balanced. accurate to the video game but simple and intuitive. play well off each other, replayable..." [source] "'the mechanics and paragon/renegade represent mass effect so well' one of the biggest compliments i got is that everyone who's worked on this game whether at modi or bioware cannot wait to get their copies so they can keep playing it." [source] "there's a type of person who will see this box and go fuck yeah take my money, no questions asked but we still wanted them to feel like they got their moneys worth with it. we crammed this box about as full as we could but we worked super hard to make the experience easy and fun" [source] "we worked really hard to make the game as replayable and enjoyable as possible whether on playthrough 1 or 10. we know mass effect players love to replay the game over and over so we built that in from the start." [source] "when we started making the game out target was actually 40 dollars so it would be so absurdly cheap people would just impulse buy it but we didn't manage to get there" [source] "seriously i can't wait for people to play it" [source] "mordin was planned but we had to cut him because dev time was pretty short and also we ran out of space for his mini on 1 mould :(" [source] "god i spent SO many hours on the ability design but it's one of my favorite things to do so that's fine. i'm so glad it paid off. shepard's ability alone had like 20 versions" [source] "one of our goals for this game was to take the things we personally found were 'getting in the way' from tactics games and present solutions. 'find tile 13A'->map book. make campaigns short&replayable instead of 'see you in 6months for mission 2'. super long teaches." [source] "eric paid super extra attention to the graphics cause the game is pretty complex we wanted minimum friction in terms of ux" [source] Gavin Dady, Senior Project and Process Manager at Modiphius, also commented - "We also wanted to make not just a Mass Effect game, not just a good game, but a good Mass Effect game. Everybody involved said early on that it had to be an authentic Mass Effect experience and, gosh darn it, I think it is." [source] "We have review copies heading for the local relays in the next couple of weeks. Some are already in transit with Quarian fast couriers using hot-tuned drives." [source] "We've worked very hard to make sure it's not just a good game, or a Mass Effect game, but a good Mass Effect game. It's a franchise that is close to my heart too (I'm the project manager and visionary) so we spent a long time making sure we got it right." [source]

[other post sources: source, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen]

[lunarw0rks]

Hi!!! Can you please do 141+ Alejandro with a black widow s/o who’s a super bamf 💗

All Bark, All Bite | 141 (+Ale)

Warning(s): canon-typical violence, strong language, established relationship, fem!reader, mil!reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I combined this w/ a similar request. they requested that reader is part of an all-female squad called "The Widows" so creds to that anon for a partial part in this request! Not proofread.

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? 𓆩♡𓆪 ask box

SYNOPSIS; if there were a side-by-side of you at work vs. at ease; the difference would be striking. You were with the best of the best, hand-picked to join The Widows five years ago, based solely on your battle smarts and physical durability.

You've retained dialects and languages after spending years doing covert ops around the world, as well as an array of fighting skills. The most significant thing you've accumulated? Your partner.

Dating in the same line of work, paths were bound to cross. Yet, seeing each other was both a blessing and a curse.

Price

When you limped up to the porch, the sight of the lights illuminating the inside made you both cringe and cheer at once. Time was precious when you both were home at the same time; though you were dreading the questions surrounding your appearance. You didn’t have time to wash off and instead went straight home after filling out your after-action reports.

John was in the sunroom with only a dim lamp on—forgetting once again to shut off the rest of the house lights. You weren’t in any mood to scold him, though, nor did you want to. In the least arrogant way possible; you were jaded from keeping the world safe. His gaze ascended from the paperwork resting on his lap, then scanning your striking appearance; in uniform and stained with crimson.

❝It’s not my blood, John.❞ You sighed, a look of both defeat and nonchalance—it was a conversation you two had many times before. This time, it really wasn’t your blood, except for a few measly scrapes and scratches.

He blinked a few times, as stunned as he was the first time he saw you after a daunting mission. ❝Is that supposed to make me feel better, sweetheart? Go shower off.❞ You couldn’t be aggrieved, it’s precisely what you would’ve told him to do. Besides, the last exchange you wanted to have right now was one about work.

John and you did that enough, probably to a fault—being that the two amplest workaholics found each other.

Simon

The work was daunting, sometimes downright depressing considering the things you’ve witnessed, and lived through firsthand. It wasn’t easy to get back out there, put on your bravest face, and work with skilled swiftness. Though your other half had conquered the art of appearing half-hearted—his mind was constantly buzzing with feelings, especially after getting involved with you.

Simon hated your guts, purely for making him fall in love with you. His co-workers either die in front of him, die apart from him, or go missing so long they might as well be dead. He couldn’t handle it, the prospect of getting a sit-rep declaring you had been KIA.

❝What’s on your mind?❞ The weight on the thin barrack mattress shifts as he sits beside you, eyes trained on your failed attempt at masking your gnawing thoughts. God, his observance was irritating at times—how you couldn’t conceal the slightest hitch in your persona.

In truth, it wasn’t any specific memory that was chipping at your psyche. It was… everything all at once. The constant reminder that you had to be a soldier—hardened, snappy, and with little emotion plaguing your every tactical decision. And your decisions? The pressure of choosing the option with the least amount of casualties—never was it a zero.

Unbeknownst to you, you were silently preaching to the choir. ❝It doesn’t matter. Can’t sit here and let feelings stop my day.❞

Simon reached across the cot, cupping each side of your face with a headstrong glare—one somehow sterner than his default frown. ❝With you, love, feelings do matter.❞ He shook you ever so slightly as if he was literally jerking some sense into you. Normally, he would agree and order the softie to keep going.

But you weren’t weak-kneed, nor did you let emotions affect your work.

You were the strongest soldier he knew, second to no one, not even himself. Your ability to feel so openly off the field was something Simon could only voicelessly yearn for. Something he didn’t want you to renounce, as he had years ago. What kind of relationship would it be, if you were both stoic robots trained to kill? It wouldn’t be one at all.

Soap

The two of you separate was enough to make any superior cringe, but together? It had them white-knuckling, all while assured that you two could get the job done clean. He was called Soap for a reason, and you—well, your squad had been picked for a reason. No one was privy to your relationship, and that’s how you both wanted to keep it, purely to not let a conflict of interest affect future ops.

Johnny had to bite the bullet and fight the urge to show you off, gush about you, telling very long and detail-heavy tales about how you two met, and how it was a rocky start. He was starstruck by your skills, and you were adamant about remaining tactical, nothing more.

Clearly, the stubbornness had budged, given the rule-bending involvement you two were in. ❝Ye sure you can handle the boom, lass?❞ Soap smirked, finger hovering over the button of the detonator. He was grasping at straws to rile you up because he knew you were both forced to work with him—and would come home to him that night.

For him, it was a win. For you? It was a persistent thorn in your side.

❝Press the damn button before I hurt you, Soldier.❞ You hissed, covering your ears to shield them from the explosion… or his pestering, it could be a mix of both. Soap grimaced as he signaled the boom, a deafening rumble in the distance, loud and close enough to make the building shake.

Once it passed, you scowled at the sight of his faux-dramatics. ❝It’s ‘soldier’ now, eh? Why not just shoot me, it would hurt less.❞ Soap retorted, taking one more glance at the ash falling in the distance—the result of his own pyro-artfulness.

Oh, how badly you wanted to tussle with him, then apologize to him with a kiss simultaneously. And he knew it too. Your toughness was an attractive quality, one that aroused him, even when you pressed a blade against his throat the first time you were stationed together.

Gaz

Your work with the 141 had gone off and on for some time now. You were glad to interact with Kyle but dreaded every mission together on the off-chance that something went horribly wrong. But that was the cost of your line of work—a sentiment you reminded yourself of nearly every day. The only thing you could do was do your job and find limited time to cherish with him.

It was your lucky day; you had time to visit.

Though you had told Price it was to visit with all of them, you only wanted to see Gaz. The others were great company, sure, but out of the field? They could be… both a complete mess, while being the most tightly-wound group you had worked with.

You made brief conversation with each member, a polite nod or greeting until the small talk became agonizing to get through. When you reached the end of the line, finding Kyle, your expression of professionalism became one of relief. After months of only communicating through comms or phone calls—you were finally face-to-face.

❝Shit, I should get going. Duty calls.❞ Your gaze diverted from Kyle to your phone, a precisely-timed interrupt you needed to tend to right that second. He understood entirely, and it only gave him an excuse to snake you into his bunk that night.

Without realizing it, you intertwined fingers with him for a few seconds, whispering a romantic farewell before parting ways with him. One of his entire Task Force witnessed with a slightly dumbfounded expression on their faces. You, high in the Widows’ chain of command, gone soft and holding hands with Gaz. Frankly, they were slightly intimidated by your skill, the way you always presented yourself in action.

To be flirting with Gaz, it was uncanny. And the headstrong Sergeant Garrick now plagued with an unavoidable flush? The snarky jokes wrote themselves.

Kyle’s eyes widened slightly as you walked away, a slow turn towards his co-workers, interrupting the inevitable comment slipping through their lips. ❝Not a word.❞

Alejandro

Your comms’ static was a constant reminder of the inevitable crisis arriving. Until an update finally came through after several minutes of pausing. Your allies were in need of sniper recon; not just any ally, either—Colonel Vargas was in need of sniper recon. Though you always made your best effort to remain tactical and move with purpose, this one was your purpose—the reason you fight to come home during each deployment.

You radioed back, signaling for the neighboring Widows to follow in your path. If something were to go wrong, Alejandro wouldn’t be left empty-handed, he would have your remaining soldiers to assist. Your squad moved swiftly, some sporting pistols, while the other half had their precision rifles at the ready. The rifle in your hands typically held little weight in your trained arms, but right now it only seemed to be restricting your snappy advancement towards the compound.

Perhaps it was the figurative weight of not getting there in time to relieve them. There was no time to interject personal affairs, however. It wasn’t just Alejandro that needed your assistance—it was his men, the allied soldiers, and most importantly, the innocents caught in the mix of this active warzone.

Your soldiers began to clean the house, allowing execute authority to eliminate any hostile forces. An order that was both the toughest yet quickest one you ever had made, given the circumstances you were plunged into. Behind the thick metal door, there was a blend of bellows in both English and Spanish—the Vaqueros deep in cover when you seized access.

By the time you got close enough, few enemies were left, thankfully. As you poked out of cover from your overwatch position on the skywalk, ready to make your presence known to them, an enemy had come into view.

One that is about to get the upper hand on Alejandro. It was moments like these where your heart stopped, as cliche as it sounded. All the years of training, fighting, hardship, death—it all needed to matter right now, or nothing would again.

You aimed down your sights, watching as the man you loved struggled against the hold. Your watchful eye observed the scuffle until Alejandro had moved out of the danger zone enough for you to get a disabling shot. Once you knew the bullet would be tactical and on the book, there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation.

The trigger was squeezed, a suppressed pop of the high-caliber bullet, then the limp splat of the man grappling Alejandro. His gaze skipped around the room, an instinctive point in the direction of the shot. You stored the precision rifle, jogging down the steps that led to the catwalk, until you approached the life you had just saved.

He let out an impressed chuckle at the sight of you, his savior. ❝Why am I not surprised, Cariño?❞ His eyes danced from you to the enemy that had him staring death in the face. Though he masked it with humor, his verbal gratitude would never make the cut. In the field and in his heart, you had yet to let him down.

[iifishizzleii]

könig & gaz - first meet

rare ship alert lmao. unedited :]

könig, who’s sent by kortac (much to his displeasure) on a co-op with task force 141.

he doesn’t like how they work, how their attention will divert from the mission the moment it comes to protecting civilians.

if there’s a chance that innocent lives can be saved, könig will do what he can. but, he won’t compromise a mission over a few lives, because what’s war without sacrifice? (not that their sacrifice means anything in the end, but to be fair, if you see a group of military men rushing one way, why wouldn’t you run the other way?) he has a job, and it’s a job that pays him to take lives. not save them.

the 141, on the other hand, work like they are. and it’s fucking annoying because they suddenly have a conscious for the lives they’re taking, as if the soldiers they’d killed in the field weren’t civilians in gear— as if they weren’t men who were someone’s husband, son, or father. but what does könig know? he’s just a colonel who’s been on the field longer than even price.

(the truth is, könig wasn’t raised knowing the value of human life. his father hated his mother, and his mother hated that he looked like his father. when he was diagnosed with social anxiety, it was just a label to the skin-crawling feeling he got whenever somebody stared at him for too long, the fraying to his nerves when the voices around him made the ones in his head scream louder. people had never done könig any good in his life. so, what did they deserve from him?)

he was forced to a briefing with the 141, and they were as insufferable as he remembered. price, with his unintelligible bear grunting that had könig leaning left because the hearing in his right ear had dulled, and the odor of cigarettes and stress that always followed him. ghost, who‘s staring was like a dissection he felt tugging at every nerve, dull eyes watching könig from across the table in a way that made the taller man want to peel out his eyes. soap, the blabbering bastard that never knew how to sit still without brushing up cozy against the masked lieutenant. all three of them were ripe for early retirement by könig’s hand, testing him with every indirect jab and comment made at the expense of their former enemy. then, a fourth man könig hadn’t bothered sparing any attention for asks price and question, and he turns.

his name was gaz. that’s what könig was told, at least, though he doubted it was the brit’s real name. not that he gave a shit. and ‘gaz’ was no older than thirty five.

he stood to price’s right, staring down at the map on the table with a sharp focus könig noticed. and while they weren’t many things on this Earth he enjoyed, one thing könig could appreciate was a weapon that was as lethal as it was transfixing.

he has big, brown eyes that swam with emotion, something könig’s bitter heart wouldn’t know a thing about. full, tanned cupid bow lips twisted into a thoughtful frown as price and laswell discussed their plans for the mission. his skin was copper, unlike the pale complexions könig was accustomed to seeing on Al Mazrah and Ashika Island. he has thick brows and sharp nose, and when he folds his arms across his chest, his biceps bulge under the grey-blue button up shirt he wears. the curve of his ass and muscled thighs are hugged by his tactical cargo pants.

he wasn’t stocky like soap, nor was he as intimidatingly huge as price or ghost. it was anything larger in size, after all, that people’s attention naturally gravitated to. könig would know. and between the four of them, gaz sits directly in the middle of being physically dominating. and it’s that which interests könig, because while any other less experienced man would chalk gaz’s size up to his skill, he knew better. gaz had every good of a chance of killing him as the rest of the men did. maybe even more, now that könig was aware of how his presence effected the group, and how easily gaz could use to his advantage.

“hübsche klinge,” könig muttered under his breath.

but, awareness seemed to lose meaning as he watched the young man across the room, dark eyes trailing up the thin fabric stretched across gaz’s stomach before lowering to watch his narrow hips as shifts to face price.

then soap cracks a joke and könig would have condemned him for it, unused to such easy going attitude while prepping for a mission, but the sight of gaz’s lips uncurling into a the barest hints of grin make könig freeze. he’s a grown man for christ’s sake, a force of nature feared by enemies and revered by allies. not even the sight of a his own family’s mangled corpses could sway him.

yet, watching that small grin on gaz’s face bloom into a full smile, an exasperated but amused laugh escaping plush lips at soap’s joke, has könig tightening his fists at his side, tracking the way gaz’s eyes crinkle in the corner from the stretch of his smile, his arms unfolding just to refold them oppositely.

könig decides at that moment that out of all the 141, gaz would be the biggest hindrance.

[dreamchaserguild]

We recently backed a project on Kickstarter and I wanted to ramble about that.

(This is not paid promotion and I have no association with the team making this project. This is just me gushing about something I think is cool.)

I grew up playing Heroscape. This game was my childhood. If you don't know what Heroscape is, here you go:

It was a simple tactical minis tabletop battle game where you make a team of different heroes with their own unique abilities. But what really sold this game was the landscape you could build yourself.

I used to have a table that sat out on our front porch that was filled with Herocape stuff as I constructed and deconstructed and reconstructed my maps.

And I didn't just have the starter set you see above. (Above is actually several starter sets. You don't get quite that many pieces from one box. I'm guessing it's three starter sets since there are six ruins, and Heroscape only came with two.) No. I had the ice set, the volcano set, the castle set, a Marvel set. The second starter set with swampy environment.

Heroscape was an amazing part of my childhood. Then Hasbro let it die.

They tried to revive it in the form of Arena of the Planeswalkers, a knock-off with a flat cardboard battlefield. But it got cancelled after two expansions. They're going to try again, but I have no faith that they'll stick with the Heroscape revival.

Which brings us to SOURCE.

SOURCE is a hex system made by indie-developers who themselves were Heroscape fans and inspired by Heroscape. Rather than connecting at the sides like Heroscape, the SOURCE tiles are held together by edges as you can see here. (I sure hope they don't mind me lifting the images from their kickstarter.)

A disadvantage to this is that you lose some of the modularity in being able to build in any shape you want. The advantage though is that it allows for terrain to easily be added and removed throughout gameplay.

(They're also working on special grip mats for those who just really want to build in any shape they want without being confined to shapes of the edges.)

And in my opinion, the detail looks way better than Heroscape ever did. Just compare the lava tiles above to Heroscape's:

There's no contest.

The SOURCE hexes aren't just the same thing in different colors. They're actual works of art.

And I'm not saying this to put Heroscape down. Like I said, it was my childhood and was fantastic for its time.

The game on the Kickstarter, Timestrike, is very similar to Heroscape. But with so much more stacked onto Heroscape's foundation.

Characters have move, range, attack and defense like Heroscape. You have the six-sided dice where three sides are swords and two are shields. Only now there is a special lucky sword and a lucky shield. These aren't relevant for most characters, but some characters will have abilities where they'll gain some bonus on lucky rolls.

If that's not enough, there's also a Contest mechanic where you can push another player's figure. This is great if someone is on a ledge and you want to cause them fall damage, or if you just want to steal the high ground from them to increase your attack.

You can also mine materials, build roads with the materials you mined, and go fishing for buffs. (Literally. You can stand near water and try to fish. If you succeed, you take a card from the fishing deck.)

There are wild monsters you can try to tame. There are even large figures you can mount and ride. See this guy:

That's a base on his back for you to place a smaller miniature on and ride him around!

The game is centered around not just beating each other, but also fighting a boss called a Sentience with space for three figures on its back.

(Note: the Gorilla Brute is not part of this first set, and will likely come with a future expansion.)

The sentience takes full advantage of the destructible terrain, leveling any space he lands on.

And they're tossing in solo and co-op rules for people who don't want to fight each other and just want to fight the boss alone, or to team up to fight the boss.

Oh! And it comes with STACKABLE WALLS!

That's a small thing, but it's a cool thing. (Okay, this is technically a stretch goal for $200,000 that they haven't put on the official Kickstarter, but $200K feels likely to me.)

The creators also seem genuinely committed to making this a reality and keeping it going for a long time, with talk of several expansions in the pipeline, introducing more playable characters, more rideable Brutes, and more bosses which will each have their own abilities and their own solo/co-op modes.

And possibly boats.

That's a picture of a prototype boat that can fit three figures and will NOT be included in this Kickstarter. But it is planned for a future expansion.

I don't know if the boats will come to fruition. I don't know if they'll look like that when they are released or if they'll look completely different by then since that would be a long way off.

But I appreciate knowing that there are plans to make this a long-term investment. I'm not worried that the creators will give up on SOURCE and Timestrike like Hasbro did Heroscape and Arena of the Planeswalkers.

And it's not just Timestrike. The SOURCE terrain can be purchased on its own and the SOURCE system is intended to be used for a variety of games by different creators. And it's already naturally compatible with Heroscape, Arena of the Planeswalkers, Battletech and other hex-based games.

I am incredibly excited and hopeful for the future of this project!

Here's the Kickstarter for anyone who wants to see more of this.

And here's a video review going over the Timestrike rules and how it plays:

[fogaminghub]

https://www.fogaminghub.com/post/experience-ea-sports-fc-25-the-game-changing-football-revolution

⚡️ Gear up, gamers! ⚡️ EA Sports FC 25 is set to change the football gaming landscape! Dive into its vibrant new features, including the 5v5 Rush mode and enriched gameplay strategies. With early access available on September 20 for the Ultimate Edition, the excitement is palpable! 🌟 Check our hands-on report for more on the stunning graphics and tactical innovations that are taking the beautiful game to the next level. 

✨

[confused-rat]

You ever read something so asinine that you instantly crave the taste of copper and dust that would come from bashing your head into the fucking pavement? So yeah, I saw Lily try to compare KH to Dark Souls. I crave the sweet release of unconsciousness by bludgeoning.

Dramatics aside, this is more than likely Lily saying shit to bait anons and deliberately piss off game nerds. (It’s me, I’m game nerd.) I know I’m falling for the trap, but by god, if I’m going down I’m taking Lily with me for being a mean spirited troll.

Anon made perfect sense actually Lily. Here, let me hold your hand as I walk you through this.

In KH, you start the game with a choice between three weapons/classes that’ll influence Sora’s stats throughout the rest of the game. You do not get to change this later. Your choice will influence which skills are learned faster, but you will still always learn said skills eventually as you play. And if you come across a boss that requires a different approach, you have the ability to immediately switch tactics/load-out.

In Souls games, you have to think about your build. You have to pick which stats you devote resources to and think about how said stats will affect your gameplay. It’s not hard, you just have to pay attention. You like big weapons? You need strength. You like magic? Go for intelligence. It’s DnD logic. However, if you devote time and energy to one build and later come across a boss who’s resistant to your strengths? You cannot simply pause and change out your equipment and spells. You either have to respec or push through.

Kingdom Hearts also has difficulty modes to choose from. Souls games do not. I know you can read Lily, come on, let’s sound this out — KH isn’t as punishing. It’s okay. I know it’s still a hard game. To this day, if I hear “Dance Water Dance” I go into a blind rage. Buuuuut, KH is still more forgiving with the fact it even has the option of a difficulty settings. You cannot “play Dark Souls on hard,” you can play Dark Souls and that’s it.

Now here I’ll concede that Kingdom Hearts can be immersive, but STILL in a very different way. Souls characters are blank slates. You have to create your character, you have to make choices that influence the story, the player character is completely apathetic to the world around them, you the player are the one who cares — which is contrasted to Sora because he is, you know, A FULLY FLESHED OUT CHARACTER. You have no influence over Sora’s decisions. Sora’s opinions. Sora’s reactions — they’re all his. Not the players.

KH is immersive in that you grow to like the characters and want to see them succeed.

Souls games are immersive because you alone want to succeed.

They were making a point about how the player characters are different (fully realized person vs empty player stand-in), don’t be a bitch Lily, I know you knew what they meant. For fucks sake, you play Bioware games, you KNOW customizable characters are inherently different from fully realized ones.

Again, stop being a bitch, Donald and Goofy and whatever extra party member you get from time to time are ai game mechanics made to support you throughout the whole game. Co-op Souls is optional, makes the bosses chunkier, and the only support they really contribute is an extra damage source and diverted aggression. The Summons effectively work the exact same. And you don’t have access to them for the majority of the game, unlike Donald and Goofy. Yes, you have the option to remove Donald and Goofy — but you don’t have the option to keep party members throughout Dark Souls. (“Oh but in co-op—“ I’m representing my psn account not-havers, we don’t get friendly randos online to help, we suffer through the bosses with ai or nothing.)

So yeah, it’s a completely different system.

Ah, a classic Lily tactic. One where you purposely withhold context to support your statement. Dark Souls was praised for not being as punishing…. as Demon Souls. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t still punishing.

I know what you’re trying to do here Lily. You think other gamers think Dark Souls is superior to Kingdom Hearts, so you’re trying to rage bait them by implying both games core mechanics are similar enough to require the same skill set (but somehow KH is still better?). But in actually, you just look really fucking insecure about your own interests. Kingdom Hearts doesn’t have to be Dark Souls to be good. It is challenging, it is silly, it is engaging and fun—stop demeaning its own worth by saying it’s the better version of a completely different genre of game.

You just want to imply you can do what any Dark Souls player can, and you can’t.

[cyberrose2001]

I got this headcanon or fanfic idea I wanted to see again, of optimus prime with a chubby reader who is always very shy or timid trying to avoid getting op's attention after the leader himself decided to be their guardian, they would do that by just acting like some bg character ,their own business in their own spot,but always liking to look at Optimus, admiring him, having this nice feeling.

Optimus always questioned and wondered why after they came ,why they where the one to be less interacting, always on thr corner wacthing everything while playing with their fingers, and with now him being their guardian, he could have a better chance to talk to them and know more of them

I always find chubby reader stuff so cute ^^, it can be any gender , I got a little carried away with my mind

TFP Optimus x chubby!GN!reader

"I perceive that you are going through some inner conflict." Optimus continues to speak softly, "If it is any consolation to you, you are free of judgement whilst you are with me."

(I'm running out of gifs to use oop-)

This one was such a pleasure to write due to my own experience, I am always willing to write chubby readers and the fluff that ensues <3

Warnings: SFW, fluff, chubby reader.

Word count: 1071

You've been the quiet type for as long as you can remember, opting to observe everyone and everything around you. You had always told yourself it was by choice that your feelings towards yourself had no influence on your interactions with others and that you were only shy. But ultimately, you've always felt self-conscious about what others think, often comparing yourself to the more extroverted individuals and their confidence in striking up conversations with strangers. You wish you had that confidence, but no matter how hard you try, you get tongue-tied and retreat to a safe space, usually away from prying eyes.

But sometimes, the prying eyes find you again, particularly one gorgeous pair of blue optics that belong to your guardian. Of course, you try your best to hide from him due to his large stature and commanding yet gentle voice. Still, over time you found yourself catching glances with Optimus more often, and when you did, he always gave you a soft smile.

Optimus Prime was a very observant bot by nature; it came with his job being both the leader of the Autobots and an expert ex-archivist. He had only been your guardian for a few months. Still, he has picked up on the differences between the personalities of the other humans and you. Optimus is familiar with the others, being loud and at least somewhat interactive. Still, he had never met a quiet and timid human like you. It made him wonder why you acted so that you would retreat to the room's corners and avoid all contact with everyone.

Well, all verbal contact, at least. Optimus had noticed your increasing stares directed at him. He decided to pull you aside to try and talk to you, hidden away in his berthroom. Hence, the conversation is private but also in hopes of making you feel more comfortable. He still noticed you fidgeting with your fingers and absentmindedly picking at the corners of your fingernails. Optimus knew this was a self-soothing tactic and a clear indicator that you were anxious about talking with him. So, Optimus reached his servos down to ever pry your hands away so gently from each other to prevent more scratches that tattered your delicate skin.

"I must ask," Optimus runs a digit across your wrist. He can feel the goosebumps along with your hair standing on end. Optimus needs to speak quietly to be as un-intimidating to you as possible, "Why must you avoid speaking to me?"

It was a simple question to most, but you struggle to find the words yet again, and you can feel the familiar knot in the back of your throat. Optimus senses your inability to speak and gently squeezes your wrist to bring you back to the present moment.

"I perceive that you are going through some inner conflict." Optimus continues to speak softly, "If it is any consolation to you, you are free of judgement whilst you are with me."

Optimus is surprised to find a quiet voice piercing through the cold air of his room. Your voice is so soft-spoken that Optimus had to strain his audio receptors to hear what you were saying.

"I'm sorry, Optimus." You breathe out, unsure what to say next or how to relay your emotions. You are not used to laying your feelings bare for anyone to see, "I just worry about how people see me."

Optimus gives you a gentle nod in encouragement and understanding; this was about your self-esteem regarding your body. He understood that humans have a specific preference for body types. It not only confused him, but he found it rather foolish that, for their very short lifespan, they chose to spend it tearing other people down. But, of course, Cybertronians are quite the opposite. For the most part, his kind has moved past such trivial matters. But what does Optimus expect from a species so young with so much to learn?

"Has someone made you feel this way?" Optimus encourages you to open up to him further. Of course, someone had to or Optimus would not think you would feel this way. He believes you are beautiful and endearing despite your lack of attention towards him.

You trace the seams of his servos with your fingers to distract yourself more. Optimus' lingering servo still wrapped around your wrist, and if you were honest, it was causing your heart to race. You pray that Optimus hasn't noticed, "Many people have. They say that nobody can love someone like me."

"And that is the reason why you avoid us? For fear of judgement, is that correct?" Optimus listens intently.

"Yep..." You pull your knees as much as you can up to your chest and hug them, "I also feel like I have nothing to offer. Jack, Miko and Raf all have unique talents, and I can't even talk to someone without becoming a nervous wreck."

Optimus pauses for a moment, his glowing optics flickering over your form. He feels thrilled because this is the most extended conversation ever with you, and he appreciates that you feel comfortable enough to confide in him. However, he doesn't let his excitement show and continues using a soft voice.

"Y/n," He gently whispers your name. Then, he squeezes your hands softly, "Do you know why I have chosen you to be my charge?"

You shake your head, enjoying the pressure of his servos on your wrists, "No, not really."

"It is due to how much you remind me of myself before I was a Prime and an archivist." Optimus lets a servo trail up your arm to rest on your shoulder, "I was exactly like you, and I have reason to believe that you will accomplish extraordinary things one day. So do not allow other people to drag you down."

"And, to the people who believe you are unworthy of love because of your outward appearance." Optimus brings a digit to your plump cheek, "They could never be more wrong."

Optimus Prime's words of love and appreciation made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch. You felt a smile creep onto your lips for the first time in a long time. For now, you knew that as long as you had Optimus as a guardian, you were safe. You could feel secure knowing no one would ever hurt or treat you poorly again.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

No, “convenience” isn’t the problem

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in CHICAGO (Apr 17), Torino (Apr 21) Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Using Amazon, or Twitter, or Facebook, or Google, or Doordash, or Uber doesn't make you lazy. Platform capitalism isn't enshittifying because you made the wrong shopping choices.

Remember, the reason these corporations were able to capture such substantial market-share is that the capital markets saw them as a bet that they could lose money for years, drive out competition, capture their markets, and then raise prices and abuse their workers and suppliers without fear of reprisal. Investors were chasing monopoly power, that is, companies that are too big to fail, too big to jail, and too big to care:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

The tactics that let a few startups into Big Tech are illegal under existing antitrust laws. It's illegal for large corporations to buy up smaller ones before they can grow to challenge their dominance. It's illegal for dominant companies to merge with each other. "Predatory pricing" (selling goods or services below cost to prevent competitors from entering the market, or to drive out existing competitors) is also illegal. It's illegal for a big business to use its power to bargain for preferential discounts from its suppliers. Large companies aren't allowed to collude to fix prices or payments.

But under successive administrations, from Jimmy Carter through to Donald Trump, corporations routinely broke these laws. They explicitly and implicitly colluded to keep those laws from being enforced, driving smaller businesses into the ground. Now, sociopaths are just as capable of starting small companies as they are of running monopolies, but that one store that's run by a colossal asshole isn't the threat to your wellbeing that, say, Walmart or Amazon is.

All of this took place against a backdrop of stagnating wages and skyrocketing housing, health, and education costs. In other words, even as the cost of operating a small business was going up (when Amazon gets a preferential discount from a key supplier, that supplier needs to make up the difference by gouging smaller, weaker retailers), Americans' disposable income was falling.

So long as the capital markets were willing to continue funding loss-making future monopolists, your neighbors were going to make the choice to shop "the wrong way." As small, local businesses lost those customers, the costs they had to charge to make up the difference would go up, making it harder and harder for you to afford to shop "the right way."

In other words: by allowing corporations to flout antimonopoly laws, we set the stage for monopolies. The fault lay with regulators and the corporate leaders and finance barons who captured them – not with "consumers" who made the wrong choices. What's more, as the biggest businesses' monopoly power grew, your ability to choose grew ever narrower: once every mom-and-pop restaurant in your area fires their delivery drivers and switches to Doordash, your choice to order delivery from a place that payrolls its drivers goes away.

Monopolists don't just have the advantage of nearly unlimited access to the capital markets – they also enjoy the easy coordination that comes from participating in a cartel. It's easy for five giant corporations to form conspiracies because five CEOs can fit around a single table, which means that some day, they will:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/18/cursed-are-the-sausagemakers/#how-the-parties-get-to-yes

By contrast, "consumers" are atomized – there are millions of us, we don't know each other, and we struggle to agree on a course of action and stick to it. For "consumers" to make a difference, we have to form institutions, like co-ops or buying clubs, or embark on coordinated campaigns, like boycotts. Both of these tactics have their place, but they are weak when compared to monopoly power.

Luckily, we're not just "consumers." We're also citizens who can exercise political power. That's hard work – but so is organizing a co-op or a boycott. The difference is, when we dog enforcers who wield the power of the state, and line up behind them when they start to do their jobs, we can make deep structural differences that go far beyond anything we can make happen as consumers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

We're not just "consumers" or "citizens" – we're also workers, and when workers come together in unions, they, too, can concentrate the diffuse, atomized power of the individual into a single, powerful entity that can hold the forces of capital in check:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/10/an-injury-to-one/#is-an-injury-to-all

And all of these things work together; when regulators do their jobs, they protect workers who are unionizing:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

And strong labor power can force cartels to abandon their plans to rig the market so that every consumer choice makes them more powerful:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/01/how-the-writers-guild-sunk-ais-ship/

And when consumers can choose better, local, more ethical businesses at competitive rates, those choices can make a difference:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/10/view-a-sku/

Antimonopoly policy is the foundation for all forms of people-power. The very instant corporations become too big to fail, jail or care is the instant that "voting with your wallet" becomes a waste of time.

Sure, choose that small local grocery, but everything on their shelves is going to come from the consumer packaged-goods duopoly of Procter and Gamble and Unilever. Sure, hunt down that local brand of potato chips that you love instead of P&G or Unilever's brand, but if they become successful, either P&G or Unilever will buy them out, and issue a press release trumpeting the purchase, saying "We bought out this beloved independent brand and added it to our portfolio because we know that consumers value choice."

If you're going to devote yourself to solving the collective action problem to make people-power work against corporations, spend your precious time wisely. As Zephyr Teachout writes in Break 'Em Up, don't miss the protest march outside the Amazon warehouse because you spent two hours driving around looking for an independent stationery so you could buy the markers and cardboard to make your anti-Amazon sign without shopping on Amazon:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/29/break-em-up/#break-em-up

When blame corporate power on "laziness," we buy into the corporations' own story about how they came to dominate our lives: we just prefer them. This is how Google explains away its 90% market-share in search: we just chose Google. But we didn't, not really – Google spends tens of billions of dollars every single year buying up the search-box on every website, phone, and operating system:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Blaming "laziness" for corporate dominance also buys into the monopolists' claim that the only way to have convenient, easy-to-use services is to cede power to them. Facebook claims it's literally impossible for you to carry on social relations with the people that matter to you without also letting them spy on you. When we criticize people for wanting to hang out online with the people they love, we send the message that they need to choose loneliness and isolation, or they will be complicit in monopoly.

The problem with Google isn't that it lets you find things. The problem with Facebook isn't that it lets you talk to your friends. The problem with Uber isn't that it gets you from one place to another without having to stand on a corner waving your arm in the air. The problem with Amazon isn't that it makes it easy to locate a wide variety of products. We should stop telling people that they're wrong to want these things, because a) these things are good; and b) these things can be separated from the monopoly power of these corporate bullies:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/08/divisibility/#technognosticism

Remember the Napster Wars? The music labels had screwed over musicians and fans. 80 percent of all recorded music wasn't offered for sale, and the labels cooked the books to make it effectively impossible for musicians to earn out their advances. Napster didn't solve all of that (though they did offer $15/user/month to the labels for a license to their catalogs), but there were many ways in which it was vastly superior to the system it replaced.

The record labels responded by suing tens of thousands of people, mostly kids, but also dead people and babies and lots of other people. They demanded an end to online anonymity and a system of universal surveillance. They wanted every online space to algorithmically monitor everything a user posted and delete anything that might be a copyright infringement.

These were the problems with the music cartel: they suppressed the availability of music, screwed over musicians, carried on a campaign of indiscriminate legal terror, and lobbied effectively for a system of ubiquitous, far-reaching digital surveillance and control:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/02/nonbinary-families/#red-envelopes

You know what wasn't a problem with the record labels? The music. The music was fine. Great, even.

But some of the people who were outraged with the labels' outrageous actions decided the problem was the music. Their answer wasn't to merely demand better copyright laws or fairer treatment for musicians, but to demand that music fans stop listening to music from the labels. Somehow, they thought they could build a popular movement that you could only join by swearing off popular music.

That didn't work. It can't work. A popular movement that you can only join by boycotting popular music will always be unpopular. It's bad tactics.

When we blame "laziness" for tech monopolies, we send the message that our friends have to choose between life's joys and comforts, and a fair economic system that doesn't corrupt our politics, screw over workers, and destroy small, local businesses. This isn't true. It's a lie that monopolists tell to justify their abuse. When we repeat it, we do monopolists' work for them – and we chase away the people we need to recruit for the meaningful struggles to build worker power and political power.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/12/give-me-convenience/#or-give-me-death

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[too-much-alphabet-soup]

The Adventurer and the Beekeeper

My partner and I started a Co-op Stardew Valley game. We just hit Year 1, Summer.

Our characters are

Vaughn Evans, Beekeeper, Flower and Fruit Farmer, Forager, Lover of Chickens, and Weeb. He has Natural green hair and has the sort of Corn-fed born to farmer's life energy; played by me.

Blair "Straw boy" Evans, Adventurer, Miner, Fisherman, Hater of Slimes, and Weeb. He was adopted into the family and brings a sort of mathematical ruthlessness to the farm; played by my partner.

For the egg festival, Straw boy took the hat, promptly adding it to his wardrobe, while Vaughn blocked out Abigail through basic brother tag team tactics. Obviously due to this sharp competitiveness neither of them were able to secure true dates to the flower festival and ended up dancing with each other.

Both have fallen unconscious in the mines, while searching for copper and iron to upgrade the fairly old tools they started the meadow farm with.

Art by me, pose by @adorkastock

Art is still WIP

[dare-to-dm]

So I finally started my couch co-op playthrough of Baldur's Gate 3 with my spouse. He doesn't play D&D and normally doesn't enjoy more complex tactical games, so I was worried he would find the gameplay overwhelming on his own. But with me to guide him, it's been going very well so far!

Couch co-op is definitely the way to go. It makes it very easy to get into actually role playing.

We're playing on the lowest difficulty, which is honestly a little boring for me. But he doesn't care about the combat at all, so this will probably remain our speed. But on the bright side, we have decided to form a polycule with the two of us, Wyll and Karlach. The forces of good have never been so sexy!