#gb: writing

[martyrbat]

[ID: Bruce Wayne and Minhkhoa Khan fighting in the snow. Minhkhoa kicks Bruce in the chest as his dialogue has been edited to be a post by @/electrificata. The post reads: “i am NOT gaslighting you. i am lying to you. gaslighting implies a level of effort that i am simply not putting in. deceiving you does not require much”. END ID]

[justalittlelilac]

Four days.

You had four days to tell Qiu Lin you were in love with them, and you just missed your first opportunity.

Part 1

The rickety "hideout" fort creaked mournfully under you as you climbed its weathered wall, pulling yourself toward the top. Pale, sun-bleached wood like dry bones brushed your skin, and you were careful with your hand placement to avoid splinters for the thousandth time.

The fort was a skeleton of your childhood, each wooden beam a brittle rib holding together a heart that beat with memories. The wood was warping in some places, and every nail was colored with rust. At some point over the years, you had to get creative with your foot placement because the rock wall was missing its original number of steps.

You could still hear Mrs. Lin's voice from a year ago, requesting Mr. Lin to tear it down, calling it a "safety hazard." It absolutely was—is—but that didn't stop Qiu, Tamarack, and you from protesting incessantly over keeping it up. The two adults eventually relented, much to your trio's pleasure of keeping a piece of your childhood a bit longer.

As you reached the top, you thought distantly that it'd likely come down now that Qiu wouldn't be here, the true reason for it still standing gone. Nostalgic bitterness coated your throat like a sour film with the understanding that next fall, this yard would likely be empty, and this fort would be nothing but another memory.

"Hey stranger," a familiar voice called, pulling you back from the brink of your common stormy thoughts. Your eyes snapped up, and there they were—Qiu, grinning down at you with that easy, sunlit smile and amused dark eyes, crouched against the post of the opening.

It was like everything else dimmed. Your breath caught, and for a moment, your mind went blank, as if spooked by their very sight, as if you had forgotten why you were here.

They were just as beautiful as you remembered. Even more so. Their hair was half up, dark and loose, a few strands framing their face. Their grin settled into a gentle smile as they reached out a hand to help you up. Schooling your features to be more nonchalant, you readily grasped it, relishing the warmth that spread up your arm from the contact.

"Hey yourself," you replied cooly while climbing into the hideout. Your nose was filled with the scent of old wet wood and earth as you righted yourself and briefly took in the interior. The thing hadn't changed since the last time the three of you were in it—a shrine to simpler days.

The ceiling was bordered with a string of battery-operated twinkle lights—long since burned out, victims of time and the elements. A rouge blanket lay crumpled in the corner abandoned. Some well-worn comics and magazines were scattered around it haphazardly as if the group had left in a hurry and just never returned.

No time travel was involved, yet it felt like only yesterday—this time capsule of youth.

Qiu settled themselves against the far wall, stretching their legs, and you did the same across from them. There was no way the two of you could stand in the space anymore. That ended around age 14, but somehow, you kept coming back, all of you. It was like a touchstone, a headquarters.

Now, the small fort was comfortably cramped with your legs stacked side-by-side. Qiu shoved their hands in their jacket pockets and leaned their head back to look at the ceiling. It was a routine of sorts; no words are needed right away. No expectation of entertainment in the slightest. Just the quiet calm between two people who knew each other better than anyone else.

"Oh, right!" Qiu exclaimed, suddenly remembering, twisting around to reach into the back pocket of their jeans. You couldn't help but smirk; it was so like Qiu to forget why they'd asked you to come in the first place. Even still, you were buzzing with curiosity.

After a moment of fumbling, they produced something, hiding it behind their back, and paused for dramatic effect with a grin. You laughed and nudged their leg.

"Come on, you're killing me here, and it's getting cold!" The sun had already dipped below the tree line, blanketing the world in the blues and purples of twilight. It had also taken the warmth, and you could start to see your breath puff small, visible clouds. As you waited, you could faintly smell smoke on the gentle wind of someone burning leaves. Qiu chuckled in response.

"Okay, okay, I've made you suffer long enough." With a self-assured smirk, they revealed what they'd been hiding. Dangling from their hand was a keychain—a small, smiling dolphin. It spun lazily on its metal ring like a leaf caught in a gentle current.

You blinked, then reached out to take it, turning it over and brushing your thumb over the warm, smooth plastic. The words were engraved in delicate cursive on the dolphin's side: "Prism Vista City."

Where Qiu was attending school.

It had been quite a story of how Qiu ended up there. Last year, seemingly out of the blue, back from the dead, an old childhood friend, Baxter Ward, had reached out to all of you wanting to make amends and reconnect. Somehow, that led Qiu and their parents to California to visit Baxter and see the university there.

Unsurprisingly, Qiu fell in love with the city. With its warm weather, bright lights, and something always going on—ever-changing, it was right up Qiu's alley. Moreover, the university held a highly reputable program that Qiu wanted to study, and they already knew someone in the area.

Of course, they had been accepted. Of course, they had decided to go. You had been happy for them. Thrilled, even. It had seemed like such a grand adventure—a reunion, a new beginning. How could you ever be upset about that?

Your fingers tightened around the dolphin, bending its top fin slightly.

"For your keys!" Qiu said with some pride, crossing their arms. That's right, you had car keys now. At the beginning of summer, your mom relinquished ownership of the old vehicle to you and bought herself a newer one. It had made you feel invincible, like a superhero, driving Qiu and Tamarack around on those late, warm nights with the windows down and music blasting. Another memory you held dear.

"Thanks! It'll be my first one, actually. This was really thoughtful, Qiu. You didn't have to get me anything, though," You gave them a genuine smile, clutching the little gift to your chest.

Qiu beamed at you like they'd just won the lottery. For a moment, that familiar flutter filled your stomach. You could tell them now. You could get it over with and let the words out into the open air, but then what? The thought flickered, and you brushed it aside.

What mattered was that Qiu was here now, and time was slipping through your fingers like water. You could tell them how you felt, risk losing them forever, or stay silent and lose them just the same. You opened your mouth to speak, but Qiu beat you to it.

"I absolutely needed to! I was at the pier with Micah and some of our other friends—you remember me telling you about Micah, right? Well, anyway, it's actually a pretty funny story. We'd all just got out of class, and Kacy said…" The rest of Qiu's story had faded into radio static.

Your eyes trailed down to the dolphin with its mocking smile. Right. Qiu was building a life there. They already had new friends, like you knew they would. Even outside of Golden Grove, they still shined.

They were already building new memories. Memories that didn't include you.

Like watching a movie that you already knew the ending to, you felt yourself drift away from the moment, just like everything else in this damn town.

Just like everything else in your life.

If only you were more like them, brave enough to leave, to chase the unknown. But you weren't. You weren't smart like that, determined—ambitious. You had chosen to stay, to settle, and that's where your life remained buried, while Qiu's only grew like vines reaching for the sun.

"Hey, you okay?" Came Qiu's voice. You finally snapped your head up to look at them, a dull ache forming behind your eyes. They wore an amused smile until it melted off their face at whatever expression they saw on yours.

You tried to school it into something more pleasant and failed miserably. Qiu's face morphed into concern, and they sat up straighter. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me."

You shook your head, shoving the dolphin deep into your coat pocket, where it felt like a lead weight. "It's nothing. I'm just super stressed about this last exam I have to do tonight," you lied.

The words tasted bitter in your mouth. At one point in your adolescence, lying came as naturally to you as breathing. Lying to teachers, parents, and, in one case, the authorities, but never Tamarack and Qiu. Nowadays, lying comes out in 'I'm doing great's and 'Yeah, I love school!'

A rock settled in your stomach, watching Qiu nod in understanding, believing you. "Man, I feel you there. I still have an essay due at midnight," they commiserated.

"How much do you have left to do?" You inquired earnestly, happy to have the shift in conversation. Qiu's eyebrows pinched together, and they winced.

"I, uh, sort of haven't started it yet," they confessed with a sheepish grin. "I wanted to see you first. Plus, there's no way it'll take all night anyway."

"Qiu!" You groaned exasperatedly. Their eyes darted away guiltily, and you reached down to lightly smack their leg, earning another wince. "Well, that settles it." You shuffled towards the exit and began to climb down the rock wall. From behind, you heard Qiu mutter something and then sigh.

"Aw, come on! I just got back. Just a little longer?" they pleaded. Your feet landed with a soft thud on the grass below, and you turned to look up at them, leaning over the rail, just like the first time you met—except you were not as merciful as your ten-year-old self.

"Only one of us gets to be the burnout, Qiu Lin, and that role is already taken so—" you claimed with mock pride while putting your hands on your hips. In the same instance, you jutted a thumb behind you to their house. "Get to it."

Qiu's smile faltered. They never liked it when you joked about that. But it was true—you were the former gifted kid turned crash-out stoner while Qiu was…well, Qiu.

"That's not…" Qiu began, but you cut them off.

"If you don't start now, I'll make sure mom doesn't bring her pumpkin pie tomorrow," you threatened with a devilish smirk. Qiu laughed and narrowed their eyes.

"You wouldn't," they challenged.

"Find out," you shot back. Qiu's eyes widened with panic.

"Alright! Okay!" They gave a resigned sigh. "You know too many of my weaknesses; you've become too powerful." With a final sigh, they swung over the rail and jumped to the ground. You laughed at their antics. The fall wasn't nearly as high as when you were kids, but Qiu still managed to make it look daring.

In the deepening twilight, you stood there, face to face, the stars now bright and clear above you. They seemed closer here, sharper, like little diamonds twinkling in an onyx net. One of the things you loved most about Golden Grove was the minimal light pollution.

You, Qiu, and Tamarack had spent so many nights stargazing. Even more so with just the two of you. It felt like it had been yours and Qiu's thing—a private ritual. Qiu followed your gaze, and their smile grew as they looked up to the heavens.

"Jeez, I forgot how bright the stars are. You don't get that in Prism Vista," they said, almost wistfully.

"Yeah, that's cities for you," you murmured, wondering if they had looked up at the same night sky in those last few months and thought of you.

"True," Qiu replied. "Then again, with so much to do there, who needs stars? We used to stare at them for hours just to keep from going out of our minds with boredom." They chuckled softly, still gazing upward, sounding so casual.

Your heart ached. This thing that had meant so much to you was a distraction to them. For you, it had never been about the stars. It had always been about the person beside you, the one who had put them in the sky.

"…Qiu?" Your voice came out small, almost fragile. They lowered their head from the sky to look down at you, a kind smile gracing their face. Silence stretched thickly between the two of you.

Qiu's brow softened, and their smile shifted into something gentler, sending a flush to your cheeks and making your heart race. You stepped back, wussing out from whatever you were originally going to say. "Uh, we'll be over around three tomorrow," you said instead, stumbling over your words. "Mom wants us to help." Qiu blinked, momentarily thrown off.

"Oh, right. Yeah, I'll let mom know," they nodded, still looking slightly confused. You turned, eager to escape, but Qiu continued. "You don't have to go, though! If you're not busy—I mean, you could help me with this essay?" they asked, hopefully.

You turned back with a tight smile. "No, I need to get back to do that exam, and besides, you know we'd never get anything done, and then my threat would be pointless because I'm the one who distracted you," you laughed, then added, "Thanks again for the gift," You held up the dolphin and quickly shoved it back in your pocket. Qiu nodded, half-smiling.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then." With your own nod, you turned and headed in the direction you came.

"Love you!" Qiu called after you when you were halfway across the yard.

The words flowed through you, brushing delicately against your heart like a breeze, but you didn't answer, letting the crunch of leaves underfoot drown out the silence.

You pretended not to hear as you went, knowing it wasn't that kind of love and you couldn't say it back this time. That was boundary of your lying.

"I love you too," you whispered into your scarf as you went, clutching the keychain harder.

This was going to be the hardest Thanksgiving break of your life.

Part 3

[just-french-me-up]

For the kiss prompts, Dreamling and joy, happiness, or adrenaline?

@just-j-really said : I meant joy, /habit/ or adrenaline lol. Should've just used the numbers.

How about I give you joy AND adrenaline? I can't get Olympics AUs out of my skull so here it comes! This is 100% inspired by Manon Apithy-Brunet's victory and what came afterwards! Also Death is called Thana in this, cause I couldn't have her go around named Death, so Thana, because Thanatos and all that

"And we're back with James Anderson at the Grand Palais, where the men's foil final is about to begin."

"Indeed, Anne. Team GB's chance to snatch the first gold medal of its history in men's foil fencing! The stakes are high at the Grand Palais tonight, but Team GB can count on Morpheus Endless after the stellar performances he gave us earlier today."

"It's going to be one for the ages!"

"It sure is!"

**

11-13

Hob had lost any semblance of control over his nerves ten touches ago, his legs bouncing up and down relentlessly while his eyes burnt holes into the piste below. Two touches. Two touches to strike gold. He could do it. He was so close.

The South Korean fencer on the other side of the piste wouldn't go without a fight, though. Morpheus was faster, but his opponent was taller, more imposing, covering more ground. Every touch scored was given right back, filling the Grand Palais with the deafening roar of the audience. It is too loud, Hob kept telling himself. He hates it when it's loud. It was everything, the lights, the sounds, the screams... God the overstimulation going on under that mask, he could not even fathom.

Morpheus lunged forward, aiming at the South Korean's flank. Hob felt his breath catch in his throat.

12-13

The room exploded again, members of the audience standing up, waving flags and signs. Hob buried his head in his head.

"God, I can't even watch."

"He's going to be alright," Thana told him, her hand braced against his knee.

Before Hob could look up, cheers erupted again, louder still. Thana's fingers tensed around his knee.

"Fuck! Who scored?"

"He's almost there! He's going to make it! Hob, he's going to make it!"

12-14

One more. One more to the title of Olympic fucking Champion. Hob hadn't even noticed he'd stood from his seat, his heart beating in his ears. He could not even hear the crowd. All he could focus on were the lights. Red or green. Red. It had to be red. Please let it be red. The South Korean came at Morpheus, lunging forward. Morpheus parried, lunged, fleche at the ready.

The red light blinked, sending the Grand Palais into a frenzy. It happened all so quickly, Morpheus yanking off his mask, his face glowing both with pride and relief, erupting in a disbelieving chuckle as the audience chanted his name, Thana's arms squeezing Hob tight, her voice saying words he could not make out under the uproar surrounding them. He did it! He fucking did it!

He didn't know at what point his entire body had decided to move, but Hob found himself rushing down the stairs leading to the pistes. Security met him at the bottom, preventing him from going any further.

"I'm his husband!" he kept saying, oblivious to the fact he and the man standing in his way probably didn't speak the same language. "I'm his husband! I'm―"

In a desperate attempt at communication, he waved his athlete badge under the man's nose. That seemed to do the trick, as the security guard stepped aside, leaving Hob free range to run up to the piste.

His chest could have burst from pride seeing Morpheus there, victorious, facing the crowd, sweat dripping from his brow, years of effort and sacrifice leading him to that very moment. Morpheus Endless, gold medalist, Olympic Champion.

As their eyes met, something in Morpheus seemed to give, all the pressure escaping his body as he fell to his knees, letting go of his foil to wrap his arms around Hob, the strength in them gone as the crowd and cameras, everything other than them, vanished.

"You did it," Hob took his face in his hands, ecstatic. "You did it, duck! You did it!"

Morpheus could barely speak, going from uncontrollable laughter to choked sobs. He pressed his forehead to Hob's before kissing him hard, salt, exhaustion and gold in his tongue. Hob leant into him, his hand combing the back of his hair, bringing them closer. The cameras probably got an eyeful, but who cared. Gold medalist was a once every four years kind of title.

And he couldn't wait for Morpheus to kiss him in front of the whole world again in 2028.

Send me a kissing prompt?

[shannonsketches]

Toei does not like Vegeta part #12849, this is their Vegebul moment.

vs Toriyama's Vegebul moment:

I will continue complaining under the cut (with additional samples)

toei's vegebul moment:

Toriyama's Vegebul moment:

toei's:

toriyama's:

ykwim??

I'm don't even want to talk about how bad they fucked up the Goku Black arc from what I can tell so far so just have this instead

LIKE THEY EVEN CHANGED WHERE VEGETA WAS SITTING??

WHY?

FOR WHO??

ANYWAY it's fine if you like the anime I'm just gently loudly suggesting reading the manga if you're a fan of Vegeta and Bulma separately and/or together

[oinonsana]

Tactical Combat, Violence Dice and Missing Your Attacks in Gubat Banwa

In this post I talk about game feel and decision points when it comes to the "To-Hit Roll" and the "Damage Roll" in relation to Gubat Banwa's design, the Violence Die.

Let's lay down some groundwork: this post assumes that the reader is familiar and has played with the D&D style of wargame combat common nowadays in TTRPGs, brought about no doubt by the market dominance of a game like D&D. It situates its arguments within that context, because much of new-school design makes these things mostly non-problems. (See: the paradigmatic shift required to play a Powered by the Apocalypse game, that completely changes how combat mechanics are interpreted).

With that done, let's specify even more: D&D 5e and 4e are the forerunners of this kind of game--the tactical grid game that prefers a battlemat. 5e's absolute dominance means that there's a 90% chance that you have played the kind of combat I'll be referring to in this post. The one where you roll a d20, add the relevant modifiers, and try to roll equal to or higher than a Target Number to actually hit. Then when you do hit, you roll dice to deal damage. This has been the way of things since OD&D, and has been a staple of many TTRPG combat systems. It's easy to grasp, and has behemoth cultural momentum. Each 1 on a d20 is a 5% chance, so you can essentially do a d100 with smaller increments and thus easier math (smaller numbers are easier to math than larger numbers, generally).

This is how LANCER works, this is how ICON works, this is how SHADOW OF THE DEMON LORD works, this is how TRESPASSER works, this is how WYRDWOOD WAND works, this is how VALIANT QUEST works, etc. etc. It's a tried and true formula, every D&D player has a d20, it's emblematic of the hobby.

There's been a lot more critical discussion lately on D&D's conventions, especially due to the OGL. Many past D&D only people are branching out of the bubble and into the rest of the TTRPG hobby. It's not a new phenomenon--it's happened before. Back in the 2010s, when Apocalypse World came out while D&D was in its 4th Edition, grappling with Pathfinder. Grappling with its stringent GSL License (funny how circular this all is).

Anyway, all of that is just to put in the groundwork. My problem with D&D Violence (particularly, of the 3e, 4e, and 5e version) is that it's a violence that arises from "default fantasy". Default Fantasy is what comes to mind when you say fantasy: dragons, kings, medieval castles, knights, goblins, trolls. It's that fantasy cultivated by people who's played D&D and thus informs D&D. There is much to be said about the majority of this being an American Samsaric Cycle, and it being tied to the greater commodification agenda of Capitalism, but we won't go into that right now. Anyway, D&D Violence is boring. It thinks of fights in HITS and MISSES and DAMAGE PER SECOND.

A Difference Of Paradigm and Philosophies

I believe this is because it stems from D&D still having one foot in the "grungy dungeon crawler" genre it wants to be and the "combat encounter balance MMO" it also wants to be. What ends up happening is that players play it like an immersive sim, finding ways to "cheese" encounters with spells, instead of interacting with the game as the fiction intended. This is exemplified in something like Baldur's Gate 3 for example: a lot of the strats that people love about it includes cheesing, shooting things before they have the chance to react, instead of doing an in-fiction brawl or fight to the death. It's a pragmatist way of approaching the game, and the mechanics of the game kind of reinforce it. People enjoy that approach, so that's good. I don't. Wuxia and Asian Martial Dramas aren't like that, for the most part.

It must be said that this is my paradigm: that the rules and mechanics of the game is what makes the fiction (that shared collective imagination that binds us, penetrates us) arise. A fiction that arises from a set of mechanics is dependent on those mechanics. There is no fiction that arises independently. This is why I commonly say that the mechanics are the narrative. Even if you try to play a game that completely ignores the rules--as is the case in many OSR games where rules elide--your fiction is still arising from shared cultural tropes, shared ideas, shared interests and consumed media.

So for Gubat Banwa, the philosophy was this: when you spend a resource, something happens. This changes the entire battle state--thus changing the mechanics, thus changing the fiction. In a tactical game, very often, the mechanics are the fiction, barring the moments that you or your Umalagad (or both of you!) have honed creativity enough to take advantage of the fiction without mechanical crutches (ie., trying to justify that cold soup on the table can douse the flames on your Kadungganan if he runs across the table).

The other philosophy was this: we're designing fights that feel like kinetic high flying exchanges between fabled heroes and dirty fighters. In these genres, in these fictions, there was no "he attacked thrice, and one of these attacks missed". Every attack was a move forward.

So Gubat Banwa removed itself from the To-Hit/Damage roll dichotomy. It sought to put itself outside of that paradigm, use game conventions and cultural rituals that exist outside of the current West-dominated space. For combat, I looked to Japanese RPGs for mechanical inspiration: in FINAL FANTASY TACTICS and TACTICS OGRE, missing was rare, and when you did miss it was because you didn't take advantage of your battlefield positioning or was using a kind of weapon that didn't work well against the target's armor. It existed as a fail state to encourage positioning and movement. In wuxia and silat films, fighters are constantly running across the environment and battlefield, trying to find good positioning so that they're not overwhelmed or so that they could have a hand up against the target.

The Violence Die: the Visceral Attacking Roll

Gubat Banwa has THE VIOLENCE DIE: this is the initial die or dice that you roll as part of a specific offensive technique.

In the above example, the Inflict Violence that belongs to the HEAVENSPEAR Discipline, the d8 is the Violence Die. When you roll this die, it can be modified by effects that affect the Violence Die specifically. This becomes an accuracy effect: the more accurate your attack, the more damage you deal against your target's Posture. Mas asintado, mas mapinsala.

You compare your Violence Die roll to your target's EVADE [EVD]. If you rolled equal to or lower than the target's EVD, they avoid that attack completely. There: we keep the tacticality of having to make sure your attack doesn't miss, but also EVD values are very low: often they're just 1, or 2. 4 is very often the highest it can go, and that's with significant investment.

If you rolled higher than that? Then you ignore EVD completely. If you rolled a 3 and the target's EVD was 2, then you deal 3 DMG + relevant modifiers to the DMG. When I wrote this, I had no conception of "removing the To-Hit Roll" or "Just rolling Damage Dice". To me this was the ATTACK, and all attacks wore down your target's capacity to defend themselves until they're completely open to a significant wound. In most fights, a single wound is more than enough to spell certain doom and put you out of the fight, which is the most important distinction here.

In the Thundering Spear example, that targets PARRY [PAR], representing it being blocked by physical means of acuity and quickness. Any damage brought about by the attack is directly reduced by the target's PAR. A means for the target to stay in the fight, actively defending.

But if the attack isn't outright EVADED, then they still suffer its effects. So the target of a Thundering Spear might have reduced the damage of an attack to just 1 (1 is minimum damage), they would still be thrown up to 3 tiles away. It matches that sort of, anime combat thing: they strike Goku, but Goku is still flung back. The game keeps going, the fight keeps going.

On Mechanical Weight

When you miss, the mechanical complexity immediately stops--if you miss, you don't do anything else. Move on. To the next Beat, the next Riff, the next Resound, think about where you could go to better your chances next time.

Otherwise, the attack's other parts are a lot more mechanically involved. If you don't miss: roll add your Attacking Prowess, add extra dice from buffs, roll an extra amount of dice representing battlefield positioning or perhaps other attacks you make, apply the effects of your attack, the statuses connected to your attack. It keeps going, and missing is rare, especially once you've learned the systematic intricacies of Gubat Banwa's THUNDERING TACTICS BATTLE SYSTEM.

So there was a lot of setup in the beginning of this post just to sort of contextualize what I was trying to say here. Gubat Banwa inherently arises from those traditions--as a 4e fan, I would be remiss to ignore that. However, the conclusion I wanted to come up to here is the fact that Gubat Banwa tries to step outside of the many conventions of that design due to that design inherently servicing the deliverance of a specific kind of combat fiction, one that isn't 100% conducive to the constantly exchanging attacks that Gubat Banwa tries to make arise in the imagination.

[griem]

ijbol idk man releasing screenshots of very polarizing things said in a private discord server between friends in a public "callout" post is #the most #tumblrific thing ive ever seen LOL.

#opinion 😱 in tags

[crowdeerdire]

OLBA boys with a Gamer MC

Featuring: Cove, Baxter and Derek Synopis: How the boys would be around a Gamer MC (whether they're in PC gaming, console gaming, cozy, shooters, etc)

Cove

Honestly would be happy with any interests you had

Although he prefers to go outside and be at the beach, he would probably also try to learn about whatever game you're into at that moment

maybe he wouldn't fully understand (aka 'MC... all you're doing is farming and cleaning? Can't you do that irl?', or 'why are you making a sims character that looks like me? I'm right here? You can talk to me?')

but if you're excited, then he's excited

he would support you, and hell, maybe you could get him into a game or two? (M/C: 'Cove! This one has mermaids!' Cove: 'What?? I wanna play!')

If you're the type to get up early for things like Nintendo Direct or some other video game announcments, he would be there with you too. I mean, he's a morning person anyways, but he would still wanna to hang out and find out why you're so excited

would ask questions and be genuinly interested when he get excited over an announcment

If you're the type to swear and get angry at video games, Cove would be surprised at first but depending how you are with him normally (like do you usually have a potty mouth?), he would laugh it off

If it starts getting too much he would definetly come over to you, concerned and worried that you're getting too heated

talks to you in a gentle voice and tries to ground you/calm you down

M/C: 'F**K THIS MARIO GAME WHY CAN'T I MAKE THIS STUPID F**KING JUMP?!' Cove: 'I don't know but you're getting really riled up, M/C... Why don't we take a break and just breathe? I'll listen to you rant, if you want?'

would play Mario party with you if you ask :)

The 'downside' would probably be Cove pouting if you're gaming too long (some new expansion came out and you wanna play it for 12hrs straight? oops) and ignoring him. He's all for you enjoying yourself, but he wants attention too...

would probably have to get him an extra chair if you're a pc gamer

or sit in his lap if you're playing on console

I think he would REALLY enjoy watching you play too? Like honestly watching people play games is really relaxing and I think it would be relaxing for him because he gets to spend time with you

would force you to take breaks/eat/hydrate and whatnot

Cove: 'You've been playing four hours straight.. At least stand up and walk around M/C!!' M/C: 'Just one more game...'

He WILL pick you up and drag you away from your game if he needs to

Baxter

he may not get it either, like Cove, but he would support you

honestly all three boys are like: if this makes them happy, then I'm happy :)

I feel like he may get more into the tech side of it, tho, if he starts taking an interest?

and help figure out what best specs to use for whatever kind of games you are into?

he seems like the type to be willing to do research for whatever, especially if it helps you out and you're overwhelmed

Baxter: 'If you want M/C, you can go for this version of the console since you tend to play less intense games. That's why you don't have to overspend on something overpowered.' M/C: 'Oh, you're right! Thank you!'

Although I feel like Baxter might want to spoil you too...

M/C: 'YOU BOUGHT ME A PS5??? AREN'T THOSE SOLD OUT EVERYWHERE???' Baxter: 'I have my connections :)'

Would say 'My uncle works at nintendo/playstation/microsoft/etc' in the most serious tone, but we all know he's bullshitting... right?

Would probably enjoy watching as well, especially RPGs I think?

Like he would get into the story and ask questions and maybe even theorize with you

If you got up early for a game announcment, he would give you a thumbs up from bed before falling back to sleep. He ain't getting up for that, but he loves and supports you

If you get really heated playing a game, I think he would egg you on as a joke

M/C: 'F**K YOU I SHOT YOU!! HOW DID YOU KILL ME FIRST??' Baxter: 'You tell them, honey'

Of course if you get too rilled up, he would be beside you, gently putting his hand on your shoulder and suggesting a break and something to eat. Maybe just spend some time with him and relax :)

He can't blame you also if you get super hyperfixated on a game and play for hours on end

I always think Baxter is a work-a-holic and would get what those kind of moods would be like

Would bring you snacks and drinks tho :)

Derek

Derek is a gamer as well, which we know from his DLC

not a huge gamer maybe as yourself

BUT

would enjoy playing party games and racing games with you

Would really get into it as well. Maybe try to win by giving you smooches and tickles if you're too good

He would also be the type to be excited if you're excited by something

Would also get up early with you for game announcments - would even skip the gym if it was something you were really excited about

Would ask lots of questions but also do his own research into the game so he could talk about it as well with you?

I feel like out of the three boys he would most liking get into gaming with you

Maybe nothing too crazy, but you could convince him into something more casual

If you were playing something competitive, he would be cheering you on

Probably REALLY enjoys watching you play

Like honestly, watching someone play video games can be really relaxing and almost intimite somehow? Cause you're sharing their passion? idk man :)

If you're getting heated over a game and are swearing up a storm, he would be at your side quickly, trying to calm you down.

He gets games can be frusterating, but you need to breathe or you're gonna get upset and he does not want that

Will force you to take breaks

Derek: 'M/C... You gotta eat and drink properly if you wanna keep gaming! C'mon, we can have something together!'

Would probably make sure you keep a semi proper sleep schedule as well because he's a worry wart and wants to make sure you're healthy

Will carry you away from a game if he has too (will wait inbetween matches if it's something you can't pause. He understands that much)

a/n: my mind is unhinged today :)) Hope y'all enjoyed and I hope non of the boys were ooc? Let me know what you think :)

divider by: @/cafekitsune

[luvmomoiz]

>self indulgent qiu lin stimboard!! probably gonna make more our life and xod boards cause these games are huge spinterests of mine

🖊️ 🍂 🖊️ / 🍂 🍂 / 🖊️ 🍂 🖊️

[aweslasharc]

first trigun fanart lets go

[mistyscenter]

I love that this fandom doesn't understand Baxter's character, I adore how they patronize him,a whole ass adult, for facing the consequences of his actions.

I love how people make him feel like a sad little baby when he leaves mc as if that's not something he made extremely clear. I love how people treat this 19 year old as if he's not old enough to understand the consequences of his actions. I love how Baxter is aware of his flaw's but feels like he can't break them because people only see him as a tool and this fandom reinforces that.

I love how people will get mad at Nico for doing the cardinal crime of being 6 years old but will baby a 24 year old Baxter. I love how people make him this charismatic rich guy when it's shown that he's a hot mess that doesn't know what he wants. I love that Baxter's whole character arc is about his self sabotaging tendencies and how everyone ignores that. I love that people fell in love with the mask he had for most of the dlc.

I love that this fandom lacks reading comprehension skills and understanding of nuance characters, great job everyone for not understanding how writing works :)

[bearofohu]

crushing on clifford holden is the most fatherless thing the MC can do in this game. like no king you dont want a dilf what you want is a father figure. jfc

[a-memory-a-distant-echo]

so i've been watching/making gifs of the donghai fight for the usual reasons (love to cry and overthink media) and i noticed that li xiangyi has an injury that comes from nothing. close eyes will catch it in the first gif, but let's slow it down.

ok so it opens with li xiangyi turning around, and if you look closely, you can see that he's uninjured, at least on his torso.

he swings at di feisheng, who blocks him with an upwards movement that's well clear of li xiangyi's body, and it's clearly a block—it doesn't connect. we can be sure of that because li xiangyi swings his arm up and out, giving us a very good look at his uninjured chest.

he swings widely at di feisheng and is diverted, and then goes to block di feisheng's blow, and even as he moves in to block, you can see that he's injured, now, that there's a not (yet) terribly bloody slash above his heart.

it is, in fact, the injury that di feisheng gives him a minute later, di feisheng's moment of victory before he realises that li xiangyi means for this to be a duel to the death.

(the range of colours in this means the gif isn't as good as it could be, but you get the point.)

on one hand: continuity errors happen to the best of us

on the other hand: soulmark au in which you're scarbonded, in which some of your soulmate's worst injuries will appear on your body days or moments before they actually receive the injury.

[desceros]

symphony update tomorrowwwww

[king-mera]

Everyone else:

Podcast:

[ramenthroughthe6]

Moment 1: Brunch

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Note: I hope I was able to service with this one, folks! It's on;y slightly longer than the intro and I feel like it's a good starting point. The ones later on are probably gonna be longer, but for now ENJOY!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That following day, after everyone helped find Jeremy, the Kings invited both your families to brunch. Mom had gone on a few brunch excursions with friends in the past, and you’d gone to brunch at the Cypress Country Club when you were younger, but

> All you knew is you didn’t wanna see Jeremy again

> You were mad about having to wait later to have breakfast 

> You were confused about why the Kings would host brunch at a house that wasn’t theirs

> You didn’t think much of it 

Surprisingly, at the promise of free breakfast, Elizabeth even opted to tag along. You went through your morning routine but got stumped when it came to changing out of your pajamas. Moms told you there was no need to be in your Sunday best for something so casual, so you and your family opted to wear their regular clothes.

The June afternoon sun beat lightly against the skin of your back as you made the trek across the street to check on the Holdens and Kyra. You knocked out of habit, despite knowing the door was always unlocked, and before long Mr. Holden popped open the door. 

“Hey, Kiddo! What can I do you for?” 

“My moms wanted to know if you wanted to walk to brunch together?”

Mr. Holden barely put any thought into the question before tossing a thumbs up, “Sure, sure! I’ll get everyone ready.” 

Before Mr. Holden could even close the door, he nearly bumped into Cove who was right there to catch it. He was waiting for you. 

> “Good morning” you said calmly

> You waved at Cove

> “Hey Cove!” You cheered excitedly

“Hey.” Cove smiled happily at your presence before closing the house door behind him. 

For a minute or two you and Cove chatted in the middle of the street like you always did; he told you about a dream he had last night, and you told him about the show you watched this morning. It felt like you and Cove were in your own little world for a while until the door to Cove’s house opened. 

“Well, good morning! I see everyones ready to get their brunch on.” Kyra greeted you and Cove happily before reaching out to smooth over Cove’s long, choppy hair, much to his chagrin. Moments later, your house door opened. Ma patted herself down, ensuring she had her phone, wallet, and keys, before allowing Elizabeth to close the door behind moms. Though it felt more like a slam. 

“Alright so its a 242 address so we’d go…that way.” Mom said, turning towards the shopping district as she read the address off a torn piece of old envelope. As a unit, your and Cove’s families began walking the familiar route with anticipation of stopping way shorter. 

As you walked side by side, Cove leaned to you in a whisper, “I wish we were walking to get pretzels. I’m so hungry right now.” 

> “I hope so, you’re a growing boy.” You joked

> You jokingly told him to be patient

> You seriously told him to be patient

> You laughed at his comment 

At your response, Cove let out a chuckle, it was clear he was only partially joking.

The house was relatively easy to find once your group reached the right row of addresses. It had a light blue and white exterior with a quaint blue door. 

> You thought it looked better than your house

> You thought your house looked much nicer

> It looked like a regular old house on the beach

Mr. Holden took the initiative to leave firm raps of his knuckles on the door. Barely a moment passed before it swung open, making the non-seasonal shell wreath on the door jingle and clank. 

“Oh! You’re all right on time! Come on in!” Mrs. King said with a large smile and a wave of her hand. 

The interior blasted you with the crisp air of the central AC, making you realize just how hot it was outside. The interior also held a blue, vaguely-beach theme, and it made all the furniture look almost too pristine to sit on. Mrs. King greeted everyone, even being introduced to Elizabeth, as her husband waited shyly behind her. 

“The more the merrier, especially with the feast we’ve got!” Mrs. King led everyone into the wide kitchen and dining room. Spread along the table was home-made pancakes, bacon, and eggs, pre-cut fruit, meat, and cheese trays, and store bought club sandwiches.

“Oh my, with a spread like this I feel like we should’ve brought something.” Mom said somewhat guilty. 

“Please, you’re our guest! And we owe you one, truly!” Mrs. King seemed overjoyed to be the sole host for the meal, and you could tell mom felt a little less tense about the whole thing.

 Mr. King shuffled aside to hand everyone a plate they could load themselves, before swiftly moving to the second story of the house. Kyra cocked her head to the side, scrunched her brows, and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Mrs. King waved it off with a laugh.

“Sorry about my husband. He’s a little shy so he doesn’t say much. But don’t let it distract you, feel free to dig in!”

With her prompting everyone did just that, filling their plates with desired portions all while chatting about the food spread and where to sit and continue the conversation.

“It’s a little warm out right now, but a nice breeze should come through around this time. Why don’t we sit outside?” Ma was always one to enjoy the ocean breeze, it was the most obvious suggestion she’d make.

“That’s a great idea,” Mrs. King paused momentarily biting her lip, “but I know Jeremy’s gonna hate the sun.”

“I think it’ll be a good chance for the kids to have their own conversations with out the grownups there to drag them down.” Mom said jokingly. And so it was agreed: You, Cove, and supposedly Jeremy, where set to sit at the dinner table inside, while the adults and Elizabeth sat outside. Of course Mom promised you that you weren’t barred from coming outside if you were uncomfortable, but it would be nice to stay inside and make friends she supposed.

>You hoped you could be friends with Jeremy

>You did not want to be friends with Jeremy at all.

>You didn’t care either way

Mr. King finally came downstairs. His once neatly rolled up shirt sleeves where messy and uneven, as he scooted a fuming Jeremy into the dining room. Though, it seemed there was rarely a time he wasn’t upset. Jeremy gave his dad a death glare, causing him to back away slowly.

“H-have fun, kids.” Mr. King spoke so fast and so quietly it was hard to hear him before he swiftly closed the sliding glass door. Jeremy immediately turned to you and Cove, a menacing glare in his eyes.

“You people…again.” He said ‘again’ like it was the most disgusting word in the world.

>”Good morning, Jeremy,” you said.

>You didn’t say anything to him.

>You glared back at him.

Jeremy looked seemingly unimpressed before turning away to get a glass of orange juice from the fridge and a small plate of pancakes and bacon, seating himself at the table with it. Far, far away from you and Cove. 

The three of you ate and drank from your respective plates for what felt like ages before anyone said anything. 

“Remind me why you’re here?” Jeremy cocked an eyebrow, still with a stale look on his face. 

“You’re mom invited us as a ‘thanks’ for finding you the other day," You said taking a sip of your drink. Jeremy made a scowl at that too.

“Of course she did! My parents are always getting into other people’s business! If they wanted to find me so bad they should have done it on their own!”

“Maybe they needed help because they were worried about you?” Cove questioned, though it sounded more like a statement. 

“Shut the hell up.” Jeremy retorted blankly, making Cove wince under his icy gaze. The silence persisted momentarily between the three of you, before Cove, likely to fight off the awkwardness, spoke again. 

“Why’s your dad so,” 

“So what?” Jeremy answered sharply

“Nervous?” Cove shrugged as though ‘nervous’ wasn’t the exact word he was looking for. You could tell he was scared to ask the question in the first place. 

Jeremy rolled his eyes, “He’s always like that,” he paused for a moment to adjust his large glasses that were slipping down his nose, “probably more so than usual since I bit him yesterday.”

You felt your jaw drop as you looked over to Cove at neck-breaking speed to see if he heard the same thing you did. Cove was making the same face at you before turning back to Jeremy.

“YOU BIT YOUR DAD?!” Cove was just as gobsmacked as you were.

“Yeah, and?”

“Dude, you can’t just bite your parents.” You said barely above a murmur.

“Says who? You aren’t the boss of me! He was holding me and I told him to let go, he didn’t so I bit him. I’ve bit dentists, doctors, I’ve never been able to catch my mom though.” Jeremy said all this with closed, almost proud, eyes as he listed off each bite victim on his fingers. 

“Why?” It was the only response you could muster. 

“If you were shorter than everyone, getting picked on everyday, being forced to talk to hicks in the middle of nowhere, you’d be mad too! You’d wanna go crazy. It’s kinda relieving honestly.”

>You thought Jeremy was a hell child.

>You found Jeremy kind of funny.

>You had no opinion on what Jeremy just said.

“What is your problem.” Cove grimaced at the idea that biting anyone could be considered a healthy outlet for anger. 

“Wah wah, what’s your problem,” Jeremy mocked in a high voice, boring holes into Cove, “Grow up! Sometimes you get bit, that’s just how the world works.”

Shifting somewhat uncomfortably, you could tell Cove was just about ready to stop talking with Jeremy, the same way you’d probably want to stop talking to a dangerous prisoner. He half-way got out of his seat before sitting back down again and opting instead to twiddle his thumbs and look down. 

There was another break in conversation. All plates had been picked clean, so there was nothing to fidget with anymore. Jeremy had occupied himself by cleaning off his glasses, while you and Cove tried your best not to look the ticking-time time bomb across the table. The swishing of an open screen door broke you all out of your trance, as Ma peeked her head inside.

“You kiddos doing alright in here?” She smiled so sweetly; she had no idea of the horrors you and your neighbor were forced to bear witness to. Cove gave a thumbs up with a fake smile that was far too wide. You,

> Also gave a strained fake smile

> Cringed silently while shaking your head ‘no’. You wish she’d take you home. 

> Gave a light smile and a thumbs up. You were handling your own well enough. 

Ma’s cheer was semi-washed away, like a sand castle in a tide, and she tensed her eyebrows a bit. 

“Well, I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay. Let us know if you need anything.” The tail end of Ma’s statement sounded more like a question than a suggestion. You felt you heart sink a little as you watched your Ma slide the glass door shut, once again locking you indoors with Jeremy. As the door closed, Jeremy turned back around sinking into his seat and crossing his arms. He seemed to be more bored rather than aggravated by the whole situation, and left out a hefty sigh. 

“What do you two do out there all day anyway? Sit around?” Jeremy looked flatly at you and Cove, a silent judgement. 

“I mean, we go to the beach mostly. Or hang out at my house or Cove’s house.” You said trying to avoid eye contact. That made Jeremy scoff.

“Thats it?! No wonder you two seem weird, you live in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do!” 

“We’re not weird! We go other places too,” Cove lurched forward in his seat, a feeble attempt to defend himself. Jeremy didn’t flinch. 

“Name one place.” 

“I-“ Cove stopped short in his sentence, his mouth pulling into a taught frown as he blanked, “uh. The park?” 

“Oh okay. So that’s all you do then? Play in dirt? Real stimulating there, dumbass.” Jeremy snorted rolling his eyes. Cove’s frown only deepened as his aquamarine eyes went downcast. You could tell he was getting ready to cry, only pissing Jeremy off further. 

“We don’t have to take that from him, Cove. Come on, let’s go outside.” You offered him a hand as you got up from the table and together you went opened the sliding glass door.

“Running from the truth isn’t gonna get you anywhere!" was all you could hear before Jeremy’s voice was muffled by the glass door. Once outside you took the time to check on Cove who was still trying to compose himself, but you could tell he was beyond grateful for you saving him from the situation. Just like you always had, and always will. 

You family seemed pleased to have you join them outside, and it had cooled down significantly since the peak of the morning. You both joined the adults at the table, and learned lots about the Kings; like how they owned their own local business and were originally meant to stay in Sunset Bird for a few days, but decided to make it an extended vacation for Jeremy, despite the fact he was having none of it.

As late afternoon turned the sky into a vibrant orange and blue ombre, rife with clouds and the barking of seagulls, your families concluded it was time to go home. Your moms shook hands with the Kings, as did Mr. Holden and Kyra, thanking them for the amazing chat and wonderful brunch. Just as you and Cove walked past the kitchen, you noticed the seat Jeremy had once occupied was empty and the plates now removed. Your mind was taken off the empty table as you felt a tap on your shoulder, it was Mr. and Mrs. King. 

“Thank you both so much for coming over,” you looked to your side to see the ‘both’ Mrs. King was referring to, to notice Cove had joined your side, “I know today probably could’ve gone better, but Jeremy is a really, really sweet kid once you get to know him. I hope we’re not asking too much, but if your parents are okay with it, would you two wanna hang around Jeremy a little more this summer? He could use some friends.” Mrs. King looked back and forth between you and Cove with pleading eyes, and Mr. King looked just as desperate as he adjusted his thick glasses. You were hit with the strongest deja vu, and nodded ‘yes’ involuntarily. This made the Kings light up with overwhelming joy.

“Oh thank you both so much! You won’t regret it, you’ll all have so much fun!” 

You sincerely hope she meant that.

[transparentgameboy]

Being sent to check something in the hot, cramped server closet that’s gone unchecked for like 8+ years and feeling a rack of devices breathing their hot air on me while I just stared at yards and yards of cabling, some just sliced through and hanging like some sort of arterial severance. Nearly every port is occupied in every switch and server and patch panel it’s a fucked up virtual overstimulation like a data bukake. I got so hard typing that I went cross eyed sorry