#how the hell are you spelling player's names wrong*

[transformersandturtles]

Couldn't find any of this SO I WROTE MY OWN FOR A ONE SHOT‼️ I will write more but I thought this would be good for now‼️ I'm really sorry if this seems out of character for either of them, I've never written anything for them before. 🥲

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CW - Swearing, reference to explicit content, possible spelling errors (non reviewed)

Word Count - 2,017 words (10,995 characters)

𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝑮𝒐 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈!

"Wade, is there anything you need from the store?" The gruff voice of Logan Howlett grumbled from the kitchen table, reading glasses resting on his nose as he held a small notepad and pen. He'd asked Al earlier if she needed anything, that wasn't illegal substances he had no way of getting his hands on, so now it was just a matter of asking his partner, who had just gotten back from walking Mary Puppins. He tapped the closed pen on the wooden surface, peering over the ridge of the glasses Laura made him wear. Who knew it was easier to read with glasses? He'd have to get something to thank her next time she came by.

"Oh! You're going shopping! Ooh, let's see!" Wade had quite the grin on his expression, taking off the harness and leash from the ever loving Dogpool, who he totally didn't get the owner of murdered so he could take her, and he picked her up, letting her lick his face as she was coddled like a baby in his arms. "We need more dog food," he spoke as he waltzed over to Logan, his hood falling down as he did so, "and more milk. Maybe some more eggs, and a pack of XL-" before he could finish, he felt something sharp poke at his throat.

"All that's on the list, except that last one. YOU can get that on your own time." The old Canadian scoffed a bit, not exactly in the mood to entertain Wade's thoughts. But he couldn't hold back a small grin when the other Canadian whined at the threat.

"Whaaaaaat? But Honey Badger, I can't go alone. They'd look at me weird." He protested, trying to be dramatic all for the sake of being dramatic.

"Uh huh, sure bub. . ." Logan put his claws away, grabbing the napkin off the table by his empty plate to wipe the blood away as the spot between his knuckles healed quickly. "So, there's milk, eggs, toilet paper, new beddings, steak, vegetables, beer. . ." He mumbled, setting the notepad down to write a few more things that came to mind. Wade set down Mary Puppins and he leaned over Logan's shoulder to figure out what other things were added. Toothpaste, mouthwash. . .

"Oh absolutely not." Wade reached for the pen to scratch out the body spray. "No way in HELL are you gonna buy Axe. Are you TRYING to smell like a skunk? Your musk is enough to make a room full of E-Sports players sick!"

". . . The fuck is E-Sports?" Logan wasn't sure if he should be insulted, confused, or both. But he wasn't too happy about the comment either way. "Also what the fuck is wrong with Axe? It's cheap and smells fine." He scoffed a bit. "I'm not trying to spend over $100 to smell good." He took off the metal framed glasses and placed them on the collar of his T-shirt under the teal-blue flannel.

"And I'm not saying you need to spend $100 to smell good, I for one think you smell amazing. Gets the body goin'. . ." Wade gave a cheeky grin with a chuckle, looking Logan up and down for a moment before looking back at the list. "But Axe is the worst one to use. If you want something to smell decent for work, I'd recommend Old Spice at the very least. Sure, the smell names are weird as fuck, but that comes with all male hygiene products. Women get all the sweet and nice sounding scents like peach vanilla or sunset cinnamon. . . Meanwhile we get stuff like Pine Jizz or Whales Fucking or-"

"Shut the fuck up, Wade. . . . Just shut up. . ." Logan let out a groan of annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. Wade had a grin on his face, laughing a little at how Logan told him to stop talking.

"I'm just saying, Peanut, if you get Axe then you're sleeping on the couch or out in the hallway." Wade warned, before leaning in to kiss Logan on the cheek. "I'll go get ready." He hummed, and left to the bedroom to change out of his sweatpants and hoodie.

"Yeah, yeah. . ." Logan mumbled in annoyance, putting his hand to his cheek to hide the light blush across his face. He huffed and stood up, stretching as his joints popped and cracked, from his lower back to his legs and neck. He popped his jaw a bit, before going to the coat rack to grab his brown leather jacket he got for a fairly good price last week. It was nice, not too tight but not too lose, and had some decent pockets. Perfect for carrying booze. . . Or other stuff he didn't want to pay for, maybe. He was THE Wolverine, and taxes were too expensive sometimes. Who was gonna throw him in jail if he shoplifted? No one, that's who. He adjusted the collar of the leather jacket, getting it how he wanted before stopping when he heard the bedroom door open. He looked at Wade, and stared at him almost dumbfounded. "You are NOT going out like that. . ."

"Why not, Peanut? You always like it when I dress this way." Wade teased, he wasn't serious about wearing the outfit in public, but he wanted a good reaction out of Logan. Besides, the outfit was pretty comfortable but no way in hell was he having enough confidence to show off his unicorn crop top and short-shorts. He didn't mind wearing it when he was having his great days; where he was overly confident and eager to show off his body despite the scarring. But today wasn't one of those days, especially since it was getting cooler as Autumn was coming in after what felt like eons of Summer. Wade did notice how Logan's complexion had turned a few shades of a deep red while looking, which also made Wade's cheeks turn a soft pink.

"Alright, alright, hurry up then. . ." Logan sighed softly, not even making a comment or retort to what was said because Wade was right. Logan crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for Wade but was surprised when the bedroom door closed again and he frowned. Did he say the wrong thing? Did he upset Wade? The mutant stood quietly but worriedly, his nose twitching a bit as he sniffed the air, trying to figure out if Wade was upset or not. It was hard to tell, so he stepped closer to the door. There didn't seem to be any low serotonin levels, they seemed about as normal as they could be for Wade. His nose continued twitching as he kept sniffing past the door, still trying to figure out if he upset his boyfriend or not, his ears twitching a little as well as he listened carefully. Before he could figure it out past the smell of everything else on the other side of the door, he was met once again with the face of Wade who seemed surprised at how close Logan was to the door. But that surprise soon turned to playful, mischievous grin.

"Aww, was someone worried about me?" He teased, wrapping an arm around Logan and leaning in to rub his nose against Logan's cheek. The gruff man scoffed with a growl, not out of hostility but annoyance, as he bit Wade's cheek with his big canines.

"Like hell I'd worry about you, dumbass. . ." Logan grumbled, moving away from Wade but didn't move too far so they could at least hold hands. "Let's go. . ." He sighed heavily, taking Wade's hand and going to the door to get their shoes on as Logan grabbed the keys to the apartment and put them in the pocket of his leather jacket with the notepad.

At the store, Logan had to keep holding Wade's hand so the younger wouldn't run off, who knows what that undiagnosed dork would go find and beg to have. Logan had his glasses back on as he looked down at the list in his hand. He had a specific order to get everything in, and if he had to deviate from that plan he might just lose it. Wade was very aware of his boyfriend's thoughts and methods, and honestly he didn't mind holding hands and walking with Logan, though he did stop a few times to look at something that caught his attention.

"We really gotta get you an appointment. . ." Logan mumbled as he gently tugged Wade along so they could keep shopping to get everything on the list. He headed over to the produce section, his hazel eyes gazing over the different fruits and veggies, letting go of Wade's hand for just a moment so he could find the perfect vegetables to cook for dinner. He'd started learning how to cook lately and had a nice dinner planned, so he made sure that the ingredients would be edible and not rotten inside or anything of the sort. He grabbed some potatoes, a few peppers, and for something sweet as a snack for later he grabbed some apples, a grapefruit, and a cantaloupe though it was slowly coming out of season and probably wouldn't taste as good as it does in the summer but he didn't care. He goes to check the ingredients off the list and turns to hold Wade's hand again, only to find the other Canadian had vanished. "Great. . ." Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before grabbing the shopping cart and continued with his shopping, knowing he'd find Wade eventually, tracking his scent wasn't that difficult due to the constantly dying and regenerating cells, along with the citrus-pine smell he had. His ears and nose twitched every so often as he leaned his elbows against the cart to push it, walking around and glancing around as he got cheese, milk, eggs, and some other things in the aisle, a gruff and raspy hum vibrating in his chest as he tapped his sharp nails against the metal bar of the cart while listening to the music playing through the store. It was crappy compared to what he liked, some hit pop song the youth enjoyed, but damnit was it catchy in the kind of way that it was really annoying but kinda good. He whistled a little, getting everything on the shopping list and went to the aisle full of booze before an announcement rang over the store's system.

"Logan Howlett, please come to the front. Your child is waiting." A bored teen girl sounded over, the tone of her voice a mix of boredom, with a hint that screamed she did not get paid enough to watch over someone or help. Logan raised a brow at this, confused. Laura wasn't here, was she? But then it clicked, and he groaned slightly with some annoyance. He grabbed two packs of the good beer and headed to the front, finding Wade near a desk who seemed happy and relieved once Logan arrived.

"Honey Badger! I was so worried you left without me!" Wade nearly tackled the older man the moment he could, and Logan grunted, a bit startled.

"You're the one who ran off, idiot. . ." Logan scoffed, glaring at Wade before looking down at the soft thing between them. "Wade. . . What the hell is that?" He frowned. Wade looked down, and a big grin was plastered on his face.

"Pompompurin! He'd be great to sit with Hello Kitty and Cinnamoroll!" He beamed, excited even as he held the large dog plush. Logan wanted to say no, to make him put it back, because who knows how much money that thing cost, but the longer he saw those big eyes, Logan eventually let out a groan of defeat.

"Fine. . . But you're payin' for it, bub. . ." Logan patted Wade on the shoulder, before taking him and the cart to the self checkout aisle so he could scan everything himself. Logan didn't like strangers touching stuff sometimes.

"Fine by me!" Wade grinned, watching Logan scan everything and he snorted a bit, amused by his odd yet loving boyfriend.

[lestats-ovaries]

biggest thing bugging me during this germany/australia game is that they're spelling bühl and schüller's names buehl and schueller, like my guy you're the OLYMPICS how hard is it for you to download a font that includes german characters

[non-fantasy]

!!!!! tell me!!

OKAY SO

i couldn't sleep until 1:30 am for unimportant reasons but . at 1:30 am, i was suddenly haunted by a question, right. there are these events in tokimeki memorial girls side 3 and 4 called ADV events, where you get to see a short story from the point of view of one of the main love interests. but like. why the hell was it called adv. is it an acronym for something? what does it mean

so at 1:30 in the morning, i went to look up what tokimeki memorial girls side adv means

i do not receive an answer from search engines

instead, somehow, google heard me ask "tokimeki memorial girls side adv meaning" and gave me THIS.

it's insane, right. it's really insane. this is a 27 page essay claiming that tokimeki memorial girls side (2002), beloved romance simulator, is responsible for teaching girls to view themselves in terms of real-life stats, that rejection from anime guys will give gamers self-esteem issues, and how to view yourself through the male gaze to win love.

i look at this 27 page paper and pass out for the next 5 hours, because it is 1:30 am.

BUT. when i wake up. i am READING. i liveblogged it all to my friend in discord dms (HI @nenestansunsthings) and here are. some INCREDIBLE highlights

"the game teaches you that men expect women to change their clothes from time to time"

the author has cited japanese 123 website, livejournal, and tumblr

"japanese players are more receptive to the series' lessons on femininity than overseas players because of the constant affirmations of the japanese cultural setting" the daily affirmations of being in japan

"players are encouraged to save before making choices and reload if they do not satisfy the object of their affections, teaching women to discard their desires and preferences to please men" HAVE YOU NOT PLAYED A VIDEO GAME BEFORE?!

the author can't make up their mind over whether the game has 7 or 9 love interests

they are basing their analysis on the first game specifically but they bring up the second and third game if it supports their point. but information from the second and third games is ignored if it undermines their point

example 1: they complain about rivals mode portraying women as jealous and willing to throw away their friendships for the sake of a man's love, ignoring that game 2 allows you to calmly talk things out with your friend and game 3 entirely does away with girls being rivals entirely, the game 3 girls are always on your side 100%

example 2: they bring up tumblr posts of fans talking about how they'd date the girls to point out how heteronormative the games are. they are talking about the first game. the tumblr posts are talking about a girl from the third game

weird racism

"this game MAY cause players to develop self-worth issues" "this game MIGHT cause players to see themselves in real-life stats" THESE WORDS ARE DOING A LOT OF HEAVY LIFTING.....

the author is WRONG???? ABOUT THE GAME MECHANICS????

they claim that a guy rejected their invitation for a date because they weren't smart enough but once they were smart enough they launched themselves into a monologue about how this is PROBABLY a guy wanting a girl who is smart enough not to embarrass him but not smart enough to surpass him

THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS. IT'S RNG. THERE'S NO MINIMUM STAT REQUIREMENT TO ASK SOMEONE OUT HE JUST FLIPPED A COIN AND SAID NO

out of the four love interests they mention by name in this, THREE OF THEM HAVE THEIR NAME SPELLED WRONG

look at this fucking bibliography

they have cited, in order.

a shitpost

someone's entire blog

and all of tumblr's search results for tokimeki memorial girls side 3.

which is not even the game they're talking about.

[quipxotic]

Spoilers for c3e91 below:

Honestly, the campaign is in such a good and interesting spot after the last episode. FCG's death is tragic and heartrendingly sad, but it ushers in so many possibilities.

If they reincarnate them, what does that look like for an aeormaton? What kind of body would they end up with? Would the new body change their stats? The spell may not call for that, but going from a robot to a flesh being would seem (to me) to demand it. What would it be like for FCG to finally feel and experience everything they've been longing to understand about "soul-touched" people's existences?

If they don't try to reincarnate them or FCG refuses to come back, it's still a terribly satisfying and earned ending for a beloved character AND we get to meet whatever new character Liam tells Sam decides to play. New people bring new interpersonal dynamics, potential for conflict, or new alliances, which is always interesting.

Regardless, I think we'll get to see Bell's Hells deal with FCG's death, what happened during the moon mission, AND the events at Nana Morri's house which they still haven't discussed in any depth. Both Ashton and Fearne are going to be down 2 points of exhaustion after their titan forms wear off, so it would make sense for the party to take a breather once they're back on Exandria and have debriefed Keyleth, Percy, and Co.

Even though unearthing the conflicting emotions about what they've been through will probably be volatile in the short-term, I would expect BH's to come out stronger in the end. I don't see them breaking apart or abandoning their mission, especially after FCG's death.

Speaking of their mission, I've seen a lot of people guessing that BH will go off to do something else while the high-powered players in the Exandrian Alliance (not their name, but I'm a Star Wars fan, so whatever) face off with Ludinus and his allies on Ruidus. But the Volition don't know Keyleth and the others, they know Bell's Hells. At least in the short-term they're going to have to be moderators between the two factions just to get them working together. And again, given FCG's death and their various ties to events or people on the moon, I don't see them leaving the moon while the battle is being fought unless they're sent somewhere else by someone they trust.

Sing it with me: "What do you do with a problem like Liliana?" I don't think she'll go to Exandria with them. (Prove me wrong, Matt Mercer, please! I can't wait to be a fly on the wall if Liliana has to face Keyleth in person.) And if she does, what then? Does the Alliance try to take her prisoner or kill her? What does Imogen do then?

Whether she stays on the moon or goes back to Exandria, just showing up to (maybe) try to save her daughter from Otohan doesn't mean anything has really changed for Liliana as far as what she believes. How much can they trust her? What will she do when confronted with a difficult choice where she has to actually give up on one of the things she wants? Who is Liliana as a person really?

So many interesting questions and on top of it all is whatever Ludinus and the Weave Mind are cooking up.

[thelastbicorn]

The Metaphor: Re Fantazio hype train isn’t quite chugging at full speed yet, so I thought I might share some of my theories regarding the plot: Specifically: who is the *real* villain? The Big Bad? The final boss? I can identify a few candidates, who I’ll list in order of increasing likelihood (in my opinion).

1. Louis - This is the obvious one. Too obvious, methinks. I honestly think this guy is going to turn out to be an anti-villain/hero in the end. We’re probably still going to have a big climactic battle with him (bonus points if he has an archetype), but it won’t be the final battle. I predict that he will be defeated, die staring into the Protagonist’s eyes as they realize they weren’t so different after all, and then...the Prince’s curse doesn’t wear off. Uh-oh. We did exactly what another bad guy wanted us to do. Fuck. Who is that nefarious villain, you ask? Read on...

2. More - I’m not sure I trust this guy. We know he’s a prisoner in Akademia. For what? Writing a book that the powers that be didn’t like? Maybe. Or perhaps there’s another reason that he’s not telling us? I dunno. I might just be having P5 flashbacks. (They wouldn’t pull that twist AGAIN, would they?)

3. Forden - This is the “other bad guy” I was talking about. The game seems to be setting him and Louis up as foils and rivals for the throne, and while we’re being led to believe that the latter is the more dangerous/evil one, I don’t buy it. I seriously wonder if Louis is really the one responsible for the Prince’s curse. We see the masked figure cast the spell, but how do we know it’s Louis? If Forden wants the throne himself, he would have just as much reason to want the King’s only heir dead. As the leader of the Sanctist Church, he’s already seen as a de facto leader, and he starts the election in the #1 position anyway. He probably wouldn’t have killed the King with his own hands like Louis did, but as a Rhoag (with their long lifespans), he could afford to play the waiting game once the Prince was out of the picture. I’m rambling now, but you get the picture. This guy is potentially just as villainous as Louis, if not more so.

4. Hythlodaeus V aka the late King aka the Big Giant Floating Head of Doom - Yes, I’m serious. I mean, just look at him/it! That thing is just screaming Final Boss. Hell, it could be a final dungeon in itself, like Sin in Final Fantasy X. It’s present in the battle UI from the moment it appears. Why? Because it’s watching you. It’s watching *everyone*. In-game they mention a “royal magic” that only the King can wield, which isn’t described in detail but is said to be a deterrent to invasion. That sounds pretty damn powerful, whether it’s defensive or offensive in nature. It sort of seems like it has a will of its own, activating after the King’s death right in the middle of his funeral. The election “seems” a tad fishy to me too. Sure, it seems progressive for a high fantasy setting, but consider this: What if the purpose of the election isn’t necessarily to find a new ruler for the kingdom, but for finding the royal magic a new *host*?

Honorable Mention: “Scheming Man” - As shown in the latest preview, this character appears in the beginning, breaking the fourth wall to ask the player for their name. So...what exactly are they scheming, anyway? If they can perceive our world, then they could easily know some things that no one else in-universe does. That already makes them more dangerous, potentially. There’s also the possibility that it’s someone we know already. It could be More; I need to listen to their voices again. If it is More, then he belongs at the top of the potential villain list. If not, then he stays where he already is. This is why this entry is off to the side. I don’t know if he’s somebody we’ve seen or not.

In any case, I’ve talked enough. I can’t wait until next month, when all of my predictions get proven completely and utterly wrong. I’m honestly hoping for some kind of mind-bending twist at the end of the second act, but only time will tell.

[illarian-rambling]

Hello! I heard you like DnD!

What has been your favorite campaign so far? My current friend group is completing a 5e WotC one, but I have also seen some great homebrews done. Do you prefer WotC campaigns, or homebrews? What were some memorable moments? ✨

Oh god, you've got me started, now I'm never gonna shut up >:)

So, I've played in four games and ran one, all homebrew, over the course of my time. My first campaign I was a life cleric with a pet goat that I saved from being a sacrifice. I didn't really know what I was doing, as it was my first game, but I had fun. My second game, I was a rogue snakeoil (and crack) salesman, which started the trend of all my characters selling drugs. Game three, I played an evangelist artificer and fell in love with the class. I adore robots, what can I say? In my current game (which is an original story, but in the planescape setting), I play a barb/fighter hazily struck out of time. She's up to three mystery voices in her head now, one being the sword of Kas, sells drugs via cranium rats, and was in a pro-wrestling tournament.

Probably one of my most memorable moments was perma-killing my artificer, Gillaria. To start, Gillaria was a bit of dunce. She was smart, yeah, but had balls wisdom and even worse charisma. She tried to fly into a portal to hell once on a wooden broom so she could take an energy reading. She got kidnapped in like three separate alleyways and gave her full, legal name to a devil. This is all to preface with the fact that this character didn't make the smartest choices.

The other thing about Gillaria was that she was a priest of Relhan, the setting's god of innovation. She and her two robot buddies, Anatolius and Aenira, would preach the word of this dying god on street corners, since the main temple to him had been destroyed. Usually, given that the highest charisma score between them was an 8, this ended up with tomatoes being thrown.

Anyways, though the campaign was supposed to go a little while longer, our dm got a new job, so we had to end early. The party decided that our last hurrah would be to raid the Golden Trident, a rival faction we'd been eyeing for some time.

One Gillaria project she wanted to get done before the end of the campaign as well was the squirrel laser. The construction of such a laser is as follows:

The druid Awakens 6 squirrels with their magic staff. The squirrels are now sentient.

Our warlock signs these squirrels onto warlock pacts. The squirrels can now cast the cantrip Bonfire.

Gillaria has a Decanter of Endless Water and the spell Magic Mouth

Infinite steam power has been achieved

We did the math and we would've been able to power a railgun with this set-up, so our dm decided, fuck it, campaign's almost over, they can have a death laser. It was decided it would be a DC 16 dex save against being zapped into ash.

Anyways, cut to us raiding the Golden Trident. Our level 10 warlock is being chased by an anctient dragon, our barbarian fell off the airship (We had a dragon ghost powered airship. Long story, also Gillaria's fault) and we're being chased by the enemy's airship.

Gillaria tells Anatolius, her steel defender with an intellect headband that she treats like a son, to point the laser at the enemy skyship, ready to fire once it warms up in four rounds. Gillaria then flies over to the enemy ship, hoping to disable its engines. However, like any good artificer, she's immediately enamored by the engines themselves. At this point, I the player forget I have a four round count down.

Yeah, you can see where this is going... The dm has me pick high or low on a d100 to see what part of the ship my laser hits, and I invariably pick wrong. And that is how Gillaria got blasted to ash by her own automaton, wielding her own laser, atop her own airship. Her final consolation was finding out that her god was not, in fact, dead and being reincarnated into his steel and steam avatar.

This is one of sooo many dumbass stories for this character, she was a piece of work. Thanks for asking though, I love talking about dnd! Feel free to share a story of your own or ask any questions :)

[lord-of-hollows]

The Gunn

Stop me if this sounds familiar. A niche interest is formed. Over years its slowly built up, a little community forms around it and it's enjoyed until it becomes its own distinct subculture. I don't care what it is, D&D, Fanfiction, Board Games, Gardening, Firearms, Revival of Dead Languages, Wicca, literally any niche interest you can name. No matter what, each of these things has the same problem. People who don't respect the hobby at all grow in the community and cause a bunch of drama within it, then cry harassment.

Nobody really wants gatekeepers around. And certainly nobody is voluntarily spending time with deliberate harassers. So when people show these habits, we kick them out of our subcultures. However a lot of these subcultures simply trade one type of gatekeeper or harasser for another.

Enter, The Gunn.

The Gunn is a person who may have a passing interest in your hobby, but they do not dedicate enough time or effort to learn how to do it properly and they do so in such a way as to make your hobby look bad. Picture a firearms enthusiast who barrel sweeps people casually and thinks its funny to act like a clown with no idea how to handle a gun safely, like pointing it at people while they ask if its loaded. That's a Gunn. A dude who plays DnD but refuses to read the player handbook, doesn't know how his spell slots work and refuses to let you teach him because "Rule 0." That's a Gunn. Picture a person who is into competitive fishing, which he does so by catching the fish early, overfeeding them, and then releasing them back into the water to illegally drag catch them and present them as trophies caught that day. That's a Gunn.

These people exist, and almost every instance of hobby or fandom drama can be traced back to them. And we welcome them, if I'm honest with you. I mean the fishing community are really the only ones who put a determined fight against it. I recall the announcers urging the contestants to not attack the cheater. At least, not attack him on tournament grounds where they have a legal responsibility.

Don't get me wrong, it's one thing to do things your own way. All my Warhammer minis are painted in colours that represent no faction at all in the lore. I shit you not, my Black Templars are Red. I have a great respect for those who kitbash Warhammer minis and know how to use the green stuff. Writing home-brew DnD is a staple of the game and should remain that way. Fishers will get into all kinds of arguments about their favorite way to tie a lure. How many Soulsborne builds do you know about? I am not at all saying that people should enjoy a hobby one way and one way only.

Hell, there's even ways to enjoy things in ways that I don't like. I think Syl x Kaladin shippers are kind of gross. However I won't deny that their relationship is about as intimate as a relationship could possibly be. She's literally attached to his soul. Like, I see what they're seeing. In terms of Kaladin finding love, I really want him to stay single if I'm perfectly honest, but I can't deny why people may want to see the Bridgeboy get a romance arc.

But no, Syladin shippers aren't Gunns just because I don't like them. The Gunn is a person who sticks themselves to a hobby they have no respect for at all.

So why is The Gunn a problem? They aren't, until they take it too far.

Rachel Gunn went to the Olympics for Breakdancing despite not knowing how to breakdance. Why? Because a dance crew she was a member of (and wrote scholarly articles about where she cited... herself... and nobody else,) 143 Liverpool Street Familia managed to get a member on every judge board on every competition leading up to her showing at the Olympics. One of whom was her husband. We see this a lot, The Gunns friends and romantic partners will help get their name into the public conciousness around their targeted niche. Think Zoe Quinn.

Whys that so bad? She schmoozed her way up, everyone does it. Yeah, but think of all the people who could have been in her place. I imagine there's a lot of people really fucking upset they lost to her and she just wanted to go to the Olympics and make a mockery of their dedication.

That is the worst part of a Gunn. They're taking up space that could be occupied by those who respect the hobby they're participating in. And that's its own form of gatekeeping, isn't it?

And the story of a Gunn who takes it too far always ends the same. "I am being harassed." The harassment in question? A change.org petition claiming she manipulated the Olympcs. My sister in Christ, your husband qualified you. But set the petition aside, you should. The website let's you start a petition to build a Death Star. There is no way she earned her way into that spot. How do I know? Look at her, that's how. That's the best a country with a population in the millions has to offer? I'll believe that when my shit turns purple and smells like cinnamon.

And this is why I've come to believe Gatekeeping is really a communities only self defence mechanism. Like, do you have any idea how much time I could have saved if I just didn't listen to people who clearly didn't know what they were doing and werent going to learn the hobbies they claimed they had a passion for? Friend, there's a reason we say "No DnD is better than bad DnD."

[theliterarywolf]

That post you made about spamming through game dialog reminded me of the time I watched a playthrough of a game in which there was a puzzle. You can get the solution by talking to the characters (present in the scene, but there's a clickable map anyway). The let's player managed to brute force it and was like "how was I supposed to know that?" like not just spamming but skipping altogether.

And I think we have to mention, because I'm sure someone has looked at my initial post and the asks about this topic and said 'lol, why are we dictating how people play games', that we're not talking about people who watch someone playing a game that has multiple routes/solutions and then spam them about 'Um, you're not going for my favorite route, so you're playing the game wrong'. Like what happened with several prominent let's-players during the Undertale boom.

We're talking about those let's-players and streamers who just spam through or skip all the measures the developers of a game put in to help the player learn the mechanics and story, just to go 'well, how was I supposed to know how to do that' or 'lol, this game's story is ass'.

I mean, hell, there's a reason why, during the release window of TotK, when DarkSydePhil (or however you spell his name, I just know him as the 'jerk it on stream' guy) was fumbling through the game* we had so many developers in the industry come out to say 'Y-yeah. If you notice why more games have longer instruction/tutorial sessions these days, it's because our producers tell us to keep people like this in mind...'

*I know some people have been saying 'Oh, that's just DarkSydePhil's schtick; he pretends to be that angry and bad on purpose.' But, uh... There are clearly times where you watch someone and go 'Oh, this motherfucker's stupid stupid...' And trying to outrun lightning while wearing metal objects is one of those cases.

[jonnyparable]

Autumn on the Farm

So things have been going well for Yuto. He is actually very rich and I did not expect to earn that much from crops alone. In fact, he's so rich, I'm thinking he can just singlehandedly carry Komorebi's economy. Which I will now put into effect by getting him to give people money as a form of investing in their businesses. But of course, the Sims 4 being the 8th wonder of the gaming world that it is, has already hurt itself in its confusion. So far some issues have occurred, the coop is not producing any eggs, although I'm not sure if I'm doing anything wrong, or if its just another fabulous bug.

There's no dispute, however, that this next issue is a known bug which I've just learnt about. Basically almost all my crops reverted back into a dirt pile, like they had just been planted. I thought it's cos I did something but Googled and turns out NO, this is just another issue with the game. Below, you can see how the whole crop field just turned into a nipple museum.

I found a modder who took her own time to FIX ANOTHER ISSUE FOR FREE and it works. But you know what? I wish to live in a world where I didn't need to have to mod a game to make it function as intended. To me, a mod should be adding cool, novel or bizarre things to the game, not making it WORK. My Sims 2 game was modded to hell and back, and that's only because I was forcing the game to be something it wasn't. Namely a very niche, period specific farming game. On its own, very little about the Sims 2 bothered me enough or was broken enough that I had to mod it out. If anything, things I had to mod out were gameplay features that worked perfectly as intended, but were just annoying, not actively broken. Things like newspapers rotting, magic spells needing raegents, or Sims waking up to react to weather. I played that game for 20 or so years and would 100% still be doing so if my computer hadn't died. I would be here continuing the story of Cottage Hills, having had whole plotlines about Saqhaba, going back to Shang Tao, and searching for the other gifts of the Goddess all over the world. Instead I'm here, about 3 months into this game, and already ranting about how it's a broken product. Gardening shipped with the Sims 4 base game, and it's 100% just broken. Honestly, this game is so demoralising and its eating away at me. You can't help but look at it being cute and you think it's got some things going for it and then BAM it goes tits up bonkers as if it was coded by a bus seat. You can sometimes see the devs having fun with something, and I do want them to, but then you see all the lazy shortcuts, sloppy execution, reused animations and just the massive amount of things that have no purpose or gameplay, and it just erases any goodwill when you realise how much they're charging for the experience. The fact that basic things in the game just don't work, while they're out here selling useless shit clutter for basements and greenhouses, including a disassembled Sims 1 Livin' Large heart bed, is just such a big sweaty fuck you to the players...

Sigh sorry for the rant. I tried to stay positive but this game is doing too much y'all. At least its ~pretty~.

[redwineconversation]

Kadidiatou Diani Signing to Olympique Lyonnais

First of all I cannot wait to see how many fake football blogs get Diani's full first name wrong. (You're not her pal!! Don't use the nickname!)

Anyway, let's just grab a cup of tea and have a good and proper chat about things. Semi-annoyed at having to do this, but apparently there are a lot of so-called football experts who suddenly have deep insights about a team I'm not fully convinced they even knew existed prior to 2021.

Right, first thing I want to nip in the bud is the belief that Diani signing somehow telegraphs a Hegerberg exit. Again, shouldn't have to explain this, but critical thinking seems to be a bit too much to ask for some football fans, so alas. Here we are. Diani is a right winger. This means she plays on the right. Hegerberg is a center forward. This means she plays in the middle of the attack. If you are on the right, you are not in the middle; if you are in the middle, you are not on the right. Two separate positions. Right is different from middle. Cannot believe I have to spell it out in such simple terms.

"Diani played as a center forward this season!" you argue, not without cause. Yep, she sure did! Now, since you didn't realize that football actually existed prior to 2021 or 2022, you probably haven't heard of this player called Marie-Antoinette Katoto. She played center forward for PSG, got injured right before the Euros, had to sit out the entire season. That is why she found herself as center forward. It's not her natural position.

So if anything, it puts Cascarino's future at Lyon at play, not Hegerberg's. And even if then I think it's too early to try reading tea leaves - there has been zero movement on the bigger 2024 contracts (Hegerberg, M'Bock, Cascarino, Endler) and I don't think that it means that much. I don't expect a ton of movement on those ones until both the World Cup is over and Kang has officially taken over.

But going back to Cascarino. The plus side is that it was a partial ACL tear, so I don't think she will be sidelined as long as if it were a full tear. But this is still her second ACL injury, we don't know what her form will look like once she is back, she's talented enough that it's not worth rushing her back from injury. It's nice to have reliable cover until that happens.

The down side is realistically those players are too good to have one of them sitting on the bench, so that's why I think it telegraphs more a Cascarino possible departure than it does a Hegerberg one. That being said, the last time Cascarino tore her ACL, everyone and their mother wrote Cascarino off, and it was Aulas who gave her a second chance. TBD if Kang shows the same faith, and whether it is enough for Cascarino.

With that in mind, let's discuss how to get away with murder how to survive a scandal the Hamraoui affair, because obviously everyone else is going to be talking about it.

Hamraoui was the victim and it's shocking, absolutely shocking, at how badly PSG mismanaged the situation. Their casual disregard towards her is unethical bordering on criminal. I can't blame her for wanting to burn the world down. Scorch the earth, everyone finds a blow torch therapeutic on some level.

Now, you can argue that Diani wasn't directly involved, and that may be true, but it's also a hell of an argument to make in good faith. Diani's husband was directly involved, to the point that he was even questioned by police. Diallo's closest friends were/are Katoto and Diani. To pretend neither of them had any knowledge nor any involvement in the scandal requires a hell of a leap of faith.

So why did Lyon, who for all its faults usually does manage to keep the locker room under control, end up signing arguably one of the most controversial players?

Part of it, if we're honest, is simply Lyon flexing. Every time Lyon loses, the popular narrative becomes we are witnessing the team's downfall and they will never recover. This is Lyon simply reminding other teams that they don't have a statute of limitation on resurrections.

It's also Kang displaying a message of intent to the Lyon players, and I think that's actually something people are failing to grasp. Kang is showing the money is there, that they can attract top players and pay them accordingly. This is, realistically, something that will come into play for the bigger 2024 contracts whom I named earlier. Kang has to win them over. In a weird way, this is a financial gesture of good faith. I put the money down, your turn to deliver.

But money doesn't necessarily translate to control over the locker room. I said privately that I would be shocked if there weren't very, very tight clauses in that contract to ensure that what happened at PSG won't happen at Lyon. While it is true that PSG isn't run the same way Lyon is - both Kang and Aulas actually care about women's football, for example - the reality is that Kang is not Aulas, and so the ability to make the locker room fall in line has yet to be tested.

So what will happen with Diani at Lyon? From a footballing perspective, Lyon strengthened their right side, crippled their biggest rival, and sent a warning shot to UWCL contenders that they aren't quite yet willing to concede their throne.

But from a personnel perspective, a lot remains to be seen. Diani probably won't be able to pull the same shit with Lyon as she did with PSG, simply because the two clubs are run differently, and even with the paycheck, she won't be catapulted to the top of the hierarchy.

The question is will she try to change that, and how will Lyon react if she does. We don't know. And I'm not exactly thrilled that we may have to find out.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 329

The Rupture

Guess who couldn’t find and wasn’t going to put a lot of effort into finding her Blu-ray player remote. This girl!

“The Rupture”

Plot Description: with their defenses crumbling, Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Rowena take bold steps to send the spirits back to hell—but their efforts come at a high price

(See? Effort comes at a price, and I wasn’t willing to pay it to, what, watch Sherlock??)

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: no one died but Rowena is convinced they all will

I can’t believe we’re still doing this. This town hasn’t been saved? It’s been two episodes and we’re in the third…younger Sam and Dean would be so disappointed. I’m also getting bad vibes from the summary…I feel like one named character in it isn’t making it out of this episode alive, and Cas doesn’t get sent to superhell for another 15 episodes

Rowena’s really sure of her abilities, and that makes me so worried. She’s wearing a beautiful gown and she’s surrounded by the Winchesters, an angel, and a demon. What could go wrong?? <—so much sarcasm in that question

I LOATHE how pathetic they’ve made my girl ever since she came back from the last time Lucifer killed her. She’s no longer the vibrant yet heartless witch who was constantly conning the king of hell. Now, her magic only works sometimes and she just feels hopeless all the time

Man, I do kind of wonder what I’d feel about Chuck on a rewatch now. I never got this far, never even made it to the god reveal

Dean’s the only one trying to actually do something

I can’t believe they’re bringing back talking about Lilith. How many times will I say that this season? It’s a nostalgia tour within this grander nostalgia tour

I LIKE Belphegor but I still don’t trust him

This isn’t a good plan, but it does seem to be the only one they’ve got

We’re checking in on Ketch in the hospital when there are more interesting — I take it back, the hot demon who hates Belphegor is here.

Bye Ketch. There’s no coming back from getting your heart ripped out of your chest, right? I don’t think he got the same spell Rowena used to keep herself alive

When did Dean read [fandom redacted]?? Especially to know the name of the owl that dies in said series

Man, I wish gojo had said some shit like that to sukuna about taking HIS son’s form and wearing it like a jacket (maybe he did, I’m not at all caught up on jjk)

We’re gonna get—nope, we are NOT gonna get Cas singing in enochian :/

What’s their beef? Is it just a power struggle between these two demons? Guess we’ll never know what she wanted but Belphegor wanted to do more than rule hell, he wanted to become the next god. I knew not to trust him, but man, he’s a fun villain at least. It’s been some time since we had that

JESUS, CASTIEL. You burned Belphegor to a fucking crisp LITERALLY

The real Rowena would NEVER have sacrificed herself like this. She was always self-serving. She didn’t need to change 😭

I should be sad but I’m just angry about this

The juxtaposition of this scene between her and Sam with what’s going on between Dean and Cas would be interesting if I weren’t so put off by Rowena sacrificing herself yet saying she doesn’t care about any of them.

Fuck this show.

Ah, back in the bunker. At least we’re out of that town, I guess

Why are we so worked up about Ketch dying? We didn’t like him, guys.

Ah, fuck you, Dean. You weren’t there. You weren’t with Cas in Hell. You didn’t see him have to burn the body of the kid who was like a son to him all by himself.

Oh Castiel, you shouldn’t be alone, sweetie. I get it. I really really do, but don’t do this 😭

Guess who found the remote immediately after finishing the episode. THIS GIRL

[kehideni]

Ahh right i owe a Guild Wars 2 What lies beneath post..

SO!! Good things first: the suggested topic of the following who-knows-how-many installments. I really didn’t expect Arenanet, and i’ll go further: ANY mmorpg to EVER even come close to smelling a single WIFF of the mental state their main character is in due to the things the writers and the players put them through. I think it’s a great idea, just like when they killed the commander in PoF. It was ballsy, dramatic, and payed off well. If they can repeat that i’m gonna kiss my monitor for granting me the privilege to see this with one character twice.

The jokes were funny, the animations (exspecially charr eating ramen x’‘‘D if you haven’t seen it yet, look it up. it’s so funny and adorable and real), the connections between the rag-tag team we got for ourselves now. A+

BUT!

Icebrood Saga started out great just like this, and due to poor planning and a sudden steer of the wheel we all know how that panned out. Eventhough the charr and the norn really deserved to have the sort of spotlight IBS promised. And i can’t help but be kinda salty that once again, we are human focused. (and by human spotlight... i mean...that kinda involves everything GW1... it’s nice to get stuff from the source material, but mine too deep and you end up like World of Warcraft, an incoherent mess that lacks direction and literally had to take back SIX(6) expansion’s worth of steps, to be back on square 1 again, and i find it hilarious that this is why DF is praised so much as an expansion)

Once again, nothing wrong with taking from the source material, just don’t let that be your go-to every single time. GW2 is known for reinventing ideas, i just don’t want them to stop that good habit of theirs.

Onto the regrettable stuff: this update was too short. I hope it was this short only because it’s a prologue but IBS burned me once, i’m not gonna hold out my hand twice.

Also wtf Marjory, why wasn’t i invited to the wedding? How are you on your honeymoon with Kas if i WASN’T.AT.THE.FKEN.WEDDING?! Yes i know, that’s not really a thing a player can... er... play but like a little sniplet from it would have been enough... maybe show the new character animations there? Surely the commander could have slurped ramen at their wedding... and throw confetti, and like just have a 1-2 liner with characters you wanna check up on. How is my man Rytlock doing???? You wouldn’t even need voiceacting for it, just regular ol’ chat bubbles, come AAAWWWWN

The sinfully bad:

The new lootchests are a fkin scam. Mate-y, if i do a meta event then i want my reward. When all i had to pay for keys are shitty scraps i could farm without any active farming, just doing the meta there was no problem. But to pay for keys with MATERIALS??!?! B** I’M COLLECTING THE MATERIALS FOR LEGENDARIES!!! WHY WOULD I TRADE THAT UP FOR SHITTY GREEN UNIDENTIFIED STUFF?! uuuuuuuuuuuuuugggh Anet, who thought of this?! Why didn’t you give them a cup of coffee to wake up?!

Also ambushes are fkin brutal man... i love the extra challenge but come on.. atleast give those fkers’ abilities a cooldown where i can fakkIIIN USE ANY OF MY ABILITIES!! Once again, everyone that is not a guardian is fked over.

To close it in a positive note: the male charr voiceactor was perfect, they sounded just as broken and traumatised as i wanted a big ass warrior cat to be after being put through 5 different hells and back, and dying, and then losing their dragon-jesus daughter, and PTSD, and you all know i could still go on. Can’t wait to hear Palawa Joko’s monologue echo back on us, i’m calling it now!

“The scars you have gouged into it spell out your name for ALL to see” rawest. fkin. line. in an MMO. ever!!!

[macksting]

It’s excellent art, they’re nice ships. Hell, everyone can do as they want, I just need to talk about this. So, a few years ago I was really into Pioneer. It’s a fun game, good design, scratches a lot of itches. I wanna talk about why I quit the community and haven’t touched or talked about it since. I'd been bughunting for them for about a year at that point and had found some real interesting doozies; I’m why there’s a limit on objects in a system, I kept crashing the game by how I did my mining. I also found a bug that would cause two space stations to be in the same space. That was kinda cool. So I was rather invested when I noticed some tutorial text that said, “I’m going to manifest my destiny,” or some such. It's in a personal log that I'd just never looked at before. So I popped into the IRC channel (or, more likely, alt-tabbed to it; I idled in there a lot) and suggested, as politely as I could, that a game called Pioneer having a reference to manifest destiny might set, uh, the wrong tone and be upsetting to some players, and they should really consider rephrasing it. The response started with "he's Eastern European, they don't know that phrase there" and ended in him being like "OH I BET YOU HATE THAT WE ONLY HAVE TWO SEXES TOO HUH WELL TOUGH SHIT." Like, I had sure noticed the "hrm, only male/female," but I didn't bring it up because whatever, I assumed it was ignorance, not a deliberate decision, so when he was like "OH I BET YOU HATE THAT TOO" I was like, "I mean, I had noticed it, but I didn't realize until just now it was with intent, so yeah, you could fix that too." And bear in mind this is IRC, I didn't exactly have my pronouns in my nick the way I do in Discord, due to character limits. He just pegged me as someone who'd be upset about the apparently deliberate choice to have only male and female options, and decided to use this as leverage to make me feel angry and sad and upset. Fuck me for picking my battles I guess. And then everyone circled their wagons around him and demanded I apologize. They demanded I apologize for him picking a transphobic fight with me, over me suggesting as politely as I could that a game called Pioneer maybe shouldn't set its tutorial tones by referencing *manifest destiny.* The art guy, don’t remember the spelling, a nice guy whose name kinda is a joke on nose-miner, talked to me in PMs vaguely apologetically and was like, "they've worked with him a long time," and I was like "y'know what just... never mind." and fucked off forever. Nice isn’t always good, I guess. I’m not sure what I’d’ve done differently in his circumstances. You work with someone a long time, and they suddenly spout hate, what you gonna do? I guess quarantine him until you can talk about it? It can be hard to make that stand when you know it’s you or him, and everyone else has already picked him. Maybe nose-miner would do something different now. Maybe not. I’m not unsympathetic, but I haven’t spoken to him since. What’d be the point? What would we have to say to each other anymore? Everyone else can fucking hang for all I care. Looking back, I'm almost certain (a) the writer guy never liked me but kept it to himself until I brought his phrasing into question, and (b) my "nope fuck this place" is simultaneously an example of BPD-style splitting on my part and also I wasn't wrong. That's an annoying thing about splitting, now that I have an idea what it means. Too often, it's actually pretty reasonable to write something or someone off forever. Do what you will with that information.

spaceship for a tabletop game, based loosely (almost entirely) on the malabar transport from pioneer space sim

done mostly as an exercise to see how quickly/cleanly i could put together a ship without fussing too much about perspective/accuracy

[therainroguefanfiction]

Manager of My Heart (Yaku Morisuke)

This was written for the Can I Speak to the Manager? Haikyuu!! collab event. Make sure you head over and check out the other fics posted there, as well, and give the collab creator, @momochimo, a follow as well!

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

Genre: Fluff, slice of life

Word Count: 2,064

Pairing: Reader x Yaku

World: Haikyuu

Notes: I’m not sure how I feel about this one. I like it, but I wonder if I could have gone in a different direction and made it better lol Hopefully you enjoy it and I hope it’s worthy of this collab. Thank you so much for allowing me to participate!

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

You frowned at the application form sitting on your desk, filled in and ready to be handed over. The problem was that you were unsure if you actually wanted to turn it in. What you were sure of was that such an action would completely throw you off of your current path, derailing you onto a more hectic one. You knew nothing about sports either, but you did know one thing – everyone that played volleyball is certainly clinically insane. Even so, you had promised your childhood friend that you’d at least try and be social at your new school, and maybe this was the way to do just that. Maybe you could even come to understand your best friend more.

You had grown up watching Tanaka Ryuunosuke playing volleyball. He was obsessed with the sport but you just never got it. What was so fun about hitting a ball over a net? He had tried relentlessly to get you into it, too, but sports just wasn’t your thing. Still, you tried every single time because you wanted to make him happy. He was the only one who tried to befriend you as kids and continued hanging out with you despite your introverted nature. In a way, it felt as if you owed him.

When class came to an end, you gathered your things and slowly made your way to the gym where Nekoma’s volleyball team was getting set up for practice. You still hadn’t decided to join the team, but you at least wanted to check them out and get a feel for their members. You settled down at the top of the bleachers, pulling out a notepad so you could jot down your thoughts.

Your eyes scanned each member of the team as they entered the gym, beginning their warmups. Ryuu had given you the basic rundown on the Nekoma players already, describing them so you’d already know their names if you decided to join the team – which he encouraged you to do on more than one occasion.

The captain, Kuroo, was rumored to be a big flirt and Ryuu had told you to avoid him. Kai, the vice-captain, was often complimented for his kindness. He’s the only one you had interacted with thus far and that’s because he was assigned to show you around when you first transferred. Kozume was a close friend of Hinata and an introvert like you. You were sure you had more in common with him than with anyone else, but two introverts trying to become friends spelled disaster in your mind. It honestly sounded painful to you. Yamamoto was, from Hinata’s explanation, the Nekoma version of Ryuu, meaning he’s a total idiot who goes crazy over girls way out of his league. Then there’s Lev, that ridiculously tall first year. And…

Your eyes fell on the short libero, Yaku. To you, he was easily the most gorgeous member of the team and your heart started to pick up speed as you watched him. Why hadn’t Ryuu mentioned how cute he is? You had never been interested in relationships or dating, you’ve never even had a crush on anyone before, but it felt as if all that changed when your eyes fell on him. If you had to describe how it felt, you’d compare it to one of those shoujou anime that Ryuu’s older sister made you watch as a kid. You could just hear that cliche music playing, upbeat and romantic, the teen being surrounded by sparkles and flowers, shining so much brighter than the rest of the team. It was like you were seeing him through rose-tinted glasses.

You suddenly slapped yourself across the face. “What the hell is wrong with me? Get a hold of yourself.” You silently cursed Ryuu’s sister, wanting anyone else to blame other than your racing heart or your overworked mind. ‘There is no way in hell I’m going to sign up to be a manager just because of a boy. No way, no how!’ And yet… you didn’t stand up and leave like you wanted to. You continued sitting there, your eyes following his every move. He was graceful yet powerful, returning balls you didn’t think could be returned. You had this overwhelming urge to protect him, to protect that beautiful smile of his.

You were sure you were going to regret it, but you had finally made your decision.

You were going to become Nekoma’s manager.

━━━━━━༻1 Year Later༺━━━━━━

Today was an exciting day.

The volleyball team was excited to be taking on Karasuno and you were excited to see your best friend again. You had kept in contact, of course, but talking on the phone just wasn’t the same as seeing him in person. When you stepped on the bus, your eyes immediately fell to Yaku who sat at the very back of the bus. When he noticed you approaching, he offered you a soft smile.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

You smiled brightly at the sound of his voice, settling down beside him so that he was between you and the window. “Good morning, Yaku-senpai~”

“You seem happy this morning.”

“Is it that obvious?” you rubbed the back of your neck, a sheepish grin on your lips. “It’s just that I haven’t been back home since I transferred. I’ve missed it.”

He bit his lip, turning his face away from you. You still consider Miyagi to be your home and not Tokyo? What if you decided you wanted to stay instead of returning with Nekoma? He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. No, there’s no way you would do that.

“Is something wrong?” you inquired softly, leaning forward to see his face but he just smiled.

“No, nothing.”

“Are you sure? If something’s bothering you, please let me know, senpai.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” he reassured you with a gentle pat on your head.

You smiled, relishing the warmth of his hand.

“Y/N!” Yamamoto rushed to the back of the bus, a determined look on his face.

You quirked a brow at him, the smile wiped from your face. “Yes?”

“Don’t you dare go falling for any of those country boys!” he demanded, shaking his finger at you.

“That won’t be happening,” you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. “Yaku-senpai is the only one for me.”

Yaku’s cheeks burned at the statement and he sent you a look. “You shouldn’t joke around like that, Y/N. People might get the wrong idea.”

“Hai, hai~” you chuckled in reply.

Crocodile tears fell from Yamamoto’s eyes as he fell to his hands and knees. “Yaku is so lucky!”

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

When the bus finally pulled up in front of Karasuno high, the other team was waiting outside to greet you, the morning sun bearing down on them like a blanket of warmth. You were the first one off the bus, shoving Yamamoto out of the way in your haste. Your eyes scanned the students but you didn’t see your best friend. A blur of black and gray streaked in front of you before you felt arms wrap tightly around your boy.

“Y/N!” Ryuu screamed in your ear, spinning you around while you laughed.

Yaku frowned when he stepped off the bus, his eyes falling to the arms around you. You had always been a bit more on the reserved side but he liked to believe that you had opened up in the year since you became Nekoma’s manager. Yet he had never seen you laugh like that. What made this guy so special?

Yamamoto fell to his knees, more crocodile tears streaming down his cheeks. “It’s too late! Y/N has fallen for their country charms already!”

Kuroo snickered. “Did you forget that Y/N transferred from Karasuno?”

“Ah…” his tears stopped suddenly and he blinked a couple of times before jumping up, a grin on his lips. “That means that these country bumpkins were so boring that Y/N came to us!”

Ryuu’s eye twitched as he set you down. “Oi, what’d you just say?”

“You heard me! Y/N loves us more!” A streak of lightning sparked between the two males as they stared each other down.

You chose to ignore them, approaching the older students. “It’s good to see you again, Suga-senpai. Sawamura-senpai.”

“You, too,” Daichi smiled, ruffling your hair.

“Have you settled in okay?” Suga fussed, hands on his hips as he scanned your body. “No one is bullying you, are they?”

“As if we’d let that happen!” Yamamoto snapped back.

“You better not!” Ryuu replied, just as loudly despite being right in front of him.

Daichi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “One is bad enough, now there’s two.”

You and Suga just laughed, completely unsympathetic to the captain’s plight.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

You sat beneath the large tree behind the gym, the breeze ruffling your hair. Birds were chirping somewhere above you, not at all bothered by the loud ruckus taking place inside the gymnasium. As Nekoma’s manager, you should be inside cheering them on and taking notes about their performance, but you started to feel more overwhelmed than you had been expecting so you needed a moment to calm down and gather your thoughts.

“What are you doing out here?”

The voice instantly brought a smile to your face which you directed toward the short male standing over you. “I just needed some fresh air.”

Yaku put his hand on his hip, brow furrowed. “You’ve been gone for nearly fifteen minutes.”

“Has it really been that long?” you questioned in surprise, pulling yourself to your feet and giving him a bow. “I apologize, senpai. I’ll return to the gym now.”

You tried to step past him but he took hold of your wrist, his grip gentle but firm. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

The corner of your lips twitched up. “Hm, so you do care about me, Yaku-senpai?”

Pink dusted his cheeks and he quickly looked away. “O-Of course, I do. It’s my job as your senpai!”

You hummed softly, tilting your head back to look at the sky filtered through the leaves above. “The truth is… I really miss this place. I didn’t realize just how much until I came back.”

Yaku frowned, taking note of the sadness in your eyes – a stark contrast to the smile on your lips. He didn’t like seeing you upset but he was especially concerned over this piece of information. Were you not happy back in Tokyo? Did you want to transfer back to Karasuno? His heart ached at the thought and he realized he didn’t want to lose you. You had become not only a core member of the team, but an important person to him as well.

“Tell me what’s bothering you.”

His eyes met yours. “Don’t use that line on me. It only works if you’re the senpai.”

“I may not be your senpai, but -” you stepped toward him and he swallowed hard when you rested your hand against his warm cheek. “You’re going to be my husband one day, so it’s my job to look after you. I suppose the manager position entitles me to that, as well.”

He sputtered at your declaration, his eyes wide. “T-That’s not funny, Y/N.”

“Good thing it’s not because I’m not joking.” You removed your hand so you could press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m gonna head back inside. Don’t stay out here too long, okay? Nekoma needs their amazing libero.” You gave him a smile before turning around and heading toward the gym, but you paused before turning the corner, looking back at him. “If you’re worried about me moving back here, you have nothing to worry about. As much as I miss Miyagi and Karasuno, I found someone much more important back in Tokyo that I’m not willing to give up.”

Yaku knew you were talking about him. His face burned and, just like he had no control over his heart hammering against his ribs, he also had no control over the bright smile that came to his lips or the warmth that filled his body. To say he was relieved about this news was an understatement and though he may not yet be ready to admit his feelings for you, he was happy knowing just how much you cared for him and that you had no intention of leaving him behind.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

[gallifrey1sburning]

Hi 👋 a prompt you can take or leave: Draco is very unsure whether he is being flirted with or this is an extension of their office rivalry that he doesn't understand (or the reverse!) Ty!

@skeptiquex and @ihavesomeideawhatimdoinghere, I read both of your prompts back to back, and they worked really well together, so I squished them into one. I hope you enjoy! Thank you both for sending me things, and thanks to @mxmaneater for the fast beta ❤️

—

The Tally

“One more for me!” Harry crowed, scratching a new tally mark next to his name on the chalkboard behind Draco’s head. “Better luck next time, Malfoy.” The board had a partner behind Harry’s desk, and the tallies recorded on one would reflect on the other, but Harry took great joy in invading Draco’s space and rubbing his victories in his face at every opportunity. Not that Draco was any better. It was part of the fun.

“Please, that one hardly counted,” Draco objected reflexively. “You only caught him because you tripped, for Merlin’s sake. Hardly an impressive arrest.” 

Harry shrugged and grinned, perching on the edge of Draco’s desk. “An arrest is an arrest.”

“Whatever,” Draco grumped. He and Harry had been playing this game for over a year now, and the margin was always extremely close. Harry was just barely ahead, at the moment, but Draco would catch up to him soon. He and Parvati had a potions ring bust coming up that Harry and Weasley weren’t involved in. Once that was done, he’d have overtaken him, and the smug expression currently gracing his colleague’s face would disappear along with his lead.

“So, any big weekend plans?” Harry asked, ignoring Draco’s pout.

Draco dropped the expression when it failed to produce the desired reaction. “Nothing too exciting. Yourself?”

“I’ve got tickets for the Puddlemere game on Saturday, actually. Ron was supposed to come, but something came up, so I’m trying to find someone else who might want to go. It would be a shame for the ticket to go to waste.” Harry was biting his lip and looking hopeful, and for just a moment, Draco thought— but no. If he’d wanted to ask, he would have asked, he told himself firmly. 

Taking care to keep his expression light, Draco pondered for a moment before saying. “I think McCutcheon is a Puddlemere fan. Maybe try him?”

“Oh, right.” Draco almost thought that Harry looked disappointed for a moment, but on second glance, his expression was clear and friendly. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll see if he’s free. Have a great weekend, Draco. Parvati.” He knocked his knuckles against the desktop twice before straightening and walking off, hands in pockets. Draco watched him go, sighing as he rounded the corner. It really was a pleasure watching him walk away.

He was brought back to reality by his partner smacking him in the back of the head with a stack of paperwork. “Ow! What the fuck, Patil?”  

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed, looking even more exasperated with him than usual. “Every time he’s over here, you spend the rest of the day mooning, and he finally asks you out, and you say NO?!” 

“I do not moon!” He did moon, and he knew it, but he wasn’t about to say so. He still had his pride. “And he didn’t ask me out, either.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“He didn’t! He just said he had an available ticket! He very clearly had an opening to invite me, if he wanted to, and he very clearly didn’t.” There had been a number of moments like this, in recent months, and Parvati kept insisting that Harry was flirting with Draco. For his part, Draco kept insisting that she mind her own business, because she obviously could not read Harry Potter at all if she thought he was interested in Draco.

“You are an absolute moron.” Parvati shook her head in disbelief, but let it drop.

— 

They made the bust on Tuesday. Monday had been a rush of preparations and contingency planning and final logistics, and the stakeout had lasted all day, but in the end, it had been worth it—they’d brought in six players in one sweep and were confident that at least one of them would give up the rest in exchange for sentencing leniency. Draco had dropped into bed exhausted but elated.

He was still riding high when he sauntered into Harry and Weasley’s office on Wednesday. He leaned ostentatiously over Harry’s desk, stretching almost directly over his perpetually-tousled head to grab a piece of chalk and carefully add six perfectly straight tally marks to his own side of the board, giving him the lead by three. 

“And that’s how you do it,” he gloated as he straightened, smirking smugly down at Harry. “Suck it, Potter.”

Across the office, he heard Weasley groan and mumble something that sounded suspiciously like ‘he wishes’ under his breath. Harry looked a bit pink, but still smirked right back up at Draco, so it was probably just the heat. “Played that one close to the chest, didn’t you? But don’t worry, I’ve got something in the pipeline. I’ll be back on top before you know it.”

In Draco’s peripheral vision, he saw Weasley bang his head against his desk. “I’m getting tea,” he announced, stalking out of the office. Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter, who shrugged. 

Now that he was here, Draco didn’t quite want to leave yet, so he searched for something else to talk about. “How was the game?” he finally asked.

“Huh? Oh, the Quidditch game. Yeah, I didn’t end up going, actually.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, not making eye contact. “Wasn’t really in the mood.” 

Draco wrinkled his brow, not really sure what to make of that, but then Harry asked a question about the potions bust, and Draco forgot about it, instead focusing on a dramatic retelling of his glorious victory.

— 

Harry’s next arrest came after a particularly brutal double homicide. It was all anyone was talking about when he arrived that morning, but, despite Draco’s expectations (and perhaps anticipation), Harry didn’t appear at his desk to brag about it. He was feeling a bit anxious by the time he finally saw him passing by his door in the late afternoon, and the feeling only grew when he did. Harry had bags under his eyes, and his usually confident posture was slumped. He didn’t look as though he had slept. He also didn’t look like he was going to stop.

“Hey,” Draco said, rising from his desk to catch him before he passed by completely. “Haven’t seen you today.” Are you okay?, he didn’t say, but he thought it was probably audible in his tone anyway.

“Oh. Hey, Draco.” Harry looked up at him, seeming a little lost. He looked hollow behind his eyes, and Draco could feel his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Yeah, I’ve been…” he trailed off and glanced past Draco, into his office, to where the chalkboard hung prominently on the back wall. He seemed to curl even further in on himself. “I don’t want to count this one, okay?” he said, finally. “It doesn’t really feel like a victory.”

“Yeah, of course,” Draco said immediately, and he suddenly felt completely helpless. “Can I—” he hesitated, and then put a tentative hand on Harry’s slumped shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

He was half sure that Harry would pull away from his touch, but he didn’t. If anything, he seemed almost to relax into it. “I’m okay,” he said, and it wasn’t convincing, but Draco didn’t want to push it. “Thanks, though.” He reached up and gripped Draco’s hand where it lay on his shoulder, so briefly that his hand was gone before Draco could even fully register it, and then stepped back, continuing on his way.

Draco stood and stared at the chalkboard for a while when he got back to his desk. Then, he picked up his eraser and carefully removed one tally from his own side.

— 

Their next bust, they were on together. A small Neo-Death Eater group that the department had been keeping an eye on, but who hadn’t done much of anything until now, had suddenly decided to make a grand statement by threatening a large-scale attack on Diagon Alley if their (entirely insane) demands weren’t met. Needless to say, the Ministry was not interested in negotiation, and the whole Auror force had been called out en masse. 

Somehow, Harry and Weasley had ended up working in tandem with Draco and Parvati, and now Harry and Draco were back to back in a dead-end alley, dueling a pair that seemed to be the last desperate stragglers, while Parvati watched the street, ready to block anyone who might try to interfere, and Weasley stood to the side, clutching his ribs and sweating but still managing to hold a fairly steady shield charm. There was an unconscious, Incarcerous-ed body on the ground near him; his Stunner’s aim had been true, but the assailant had gotten off one last hex before it hit. He wasn’t in imminent danger—Draco had been hit by the same spell before, and it was extremely painful but didn’t cause any lasting damage once reversed��and although that would be easy enough to do, they didn’t have a wand to spare at the moment.

Harry and Draco worked together like they’d been born to it, and if their respective partnerships hadn’t been working so well for so long, Draco might have considered it a waste that they weren’t paired together. Spells flew around them like fireworks, and they cast and dodged and shielded and attacked without speaking, without pause, until, suddenly, it was over. 

“Ron!” Harry cried as soon as his wand dropped, but Parvati was already by his side, countering the spell, and Ron’s body relaxed almost immediately.

“I’m fine, mate. Great work.” 

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and then turned to Draco, chest still heaving with exertion. Draco couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face even as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel sweat tracking down his face, his neck, his back, and he was streaked with dirt and—he suspected—blood; but they had won, and no one had died, and he was almost high on the rush of it. “I’m not sure who those count for,” he said, half laughing. “It happened too fast. Did you catch who took them down?”

Harry was grinning now, too, the buzzing energy of their win almost visibly coursing through him. He beamed at Draco, and he looked so fucking beautiful, even though he was just as dirty and dishevled as Draco was, that Draco couldn’t help but glance, just for a second, at those lips that he’d surreptitiously observed for so long as they stretched wide with joy. When he snapped his eyes back up, however, it was clear that Harry had seen, because the smile had morphed into something that Draco couldn’t put a name to, and his eyes were searching Draco’s for something. And then— 

“Fuck it,” he heard Harry say, and then there were hands on either side of his head and he was being—quite thoroughly—kissed, right there in the alley. He melted into it immediately, pulling Harry closer to himself almost instinctively. There was an iron tang of blood as their tongues met, and Draco wasn’t sure whose it was, but he didn’t particularly care. He didn’t care about much of anything, right now, besides Harry’s hands, and Harry’s lips, and the press of Harry’s chest and hips against his own, and whether Harry might want to reenact this moment later but somewhere with a bed and a lot less clothes.

“I TOLD YOU!” Parvati yelled triumphantly in the background.

“Fucking finally.” Ron sounded both amused and exasperated.

Draco ignored them in favor of sliding his hands into Harry’s birdsnest of hair, pulling lightly and making him groan into the kiss. He supposed this one counted as a win for both of them.

Also on AO3

[clockworklozenges]

So, a good five or so years back, I played in one of the best worst DnD games I have ever been in. The DM had bought the Libris Mortis book, which, if you were unaware, was a 3.5 splatbook adding in a lot of undead stuff, including some monsters and undead player races and stuff. Wanting to try it out, me and my gaming group decided to play things from it, our then DM deciding to run a completely homebrewed session. This proved to be a...

Terrible Idea™

(for the uninitiated, never homebrew something you do not fully understand unless it's just cosmetic. If you want to make all elves worship the god of garlic bread, Ultimo-Metatron-Omega, go ahead, but unless you know how the game works, don't make mechanical changes). So we all picked stuff from the books-one player played a skeleton Sorcerer who in life was a tribal shaman, but an attempt at healing went wrong, turning him undead as his life energy was replaced with negative energy, explaining why most of his spells were necromancy and suchlike.

Another player played Krug, an antipaladin in very spiky full plate. He was a zombie made by a necromancer of a paladin who was fighting him, but his allies killed his would-be master before he could assert control, and not wanting to just off him, his allies just...yeeted his body into a portal and hoped it'd re-kill him. It did not kill him hard enough. It did, however, explain his stats which...oof. He had already got debuffs to some stats due to being a zombie, and rolled abysmally. Fortunately for the player, he played mostly to socialise, so didn't much care.

I played... Count Nox Feratu, the Campire. As in, a vampire with a very camp German accent, which I did not break for the whole time I was playing him. To the point where "ach, nein, I haf bin heet! Heal me, meine freunde!" was par for the course. My overly camp vamp was a wizard, but due to level adjustment was a bit of a shoddy one. For backstory, he'd been ousted from his clan for ineptitude, and had sworn revenge. I was going for a swordmage build but never got there. All his spells were utility or just necromancy spells.

Our last player played...sigh...Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of Nerull, God of murder and undeath. He was one of the clerics from the book's murder Domain, meaning that he got buffs to damage. He was a vicious arse both in character and out of it, and was so dripping with edge compared to the paladin with the same IQ as a horse after its trip to the glue factory, the shaman who thought killing fixed people and the Campire that if you gave him a pat on the back you'd have finely diced your hand into a red mist. Not going too outlandish with his backstory of wanting to dominate the world as his undead thralls, Damien F***ing Bloodmoon had only taken spells which either charmed live people, dealt negative energy damage or messed with ability drain and suchlike, which he used with aplomb on townsfolk on our way to our objective. He was also, importantly, playing an elf of some sort, I forget which kind. Meaning that of the party, only one was alive.

So, just as an aside, for those of you that haven't played 3.5e DnD or have only played 5e, in Libris Mortis, undeath was gone over in detail, and had a litany of pros and cons. For one thing, undead had only the HP they had-folks like Damien F***ing Bloodmoon could be 'dying', and had some time to be stabilised before meeting the reckoning of Papa John and dying proper. Undead did not, it was just how much you had and if you ran out, poof, you're dust, bones and fertiliser again. You were also harmed by positive energy, so healing spells hurt you, as did potions of healing. However, undead were kind of hardy - poison immunity, some had resistance to non-magical melee damage, stuff that drained your ability scores and levels didn't work on them, some crits wouldn't do extra damage, and the best part- negative energy healed undead. Meaning all the spells our party had which damaged others like the living Damien Bloodmoon were curative ones for us. Keep this in mind.

So, we began our quest, learning of a necromancer a nearby town was plagued by. After using our skills (to whit: Damien Bloodmoon charming and drawing the life force out of random villagers and the only potion seller in the town whilst we went shopping. Krug got a snazzy hat, which we put on top of his helmet, and we chatted to townsfolk as I looked alive enough to pass as human and the shaman had a fake beard and toupee that people were too awkward to point out was fake so went along with it) we learn that the necromancer has a base of operations in the cemetery. "Oh ja, zo original, dahlink. Ve vill need to educate zis guy on vhat is chic and vhat is just shabby!"

So we head there and the nightmare begins. Damien Leads the charge, using all of his knowledge to deduce that the shambling horde moving towards us were stronger-than-your-average-bear undead, and he was right. These were powerful armoured zombie mages of some sort, casting ability draining spells, negative energy ray spells and even having auras of negative energy that dealt damage on a failed Fortitude save. Even their punch and quarterstaves did negative energy damage as well as the usual bludgeoning or unarmed. However...only one of us was really in danger and the DM's face fell when the squishy casters walked up and began shanking their super-special homebrew zombie wizards, being healed by the damage of their attacks as we cut them down.

Like I said, one of the benefits of undeath is that negative energy actually heals you. So the strikes of the magic staves and punches that hit us did some basic damage. Which was then immediately healed by the negative energy their weapon strikes and spells were doing.

However, you'll recall that Damien Bloodmoon was an elf. And not dead. Being a Cleric of a death god doesn't mean that you have the abilities of an undead. That meant that even with the DM being merciful, by the end of the first fight he was covered in blood, mud and withered away to just above half his original strength and constitution. More were patrolling, so we had to run. But that posed a problem.

Remember Krug had heavy armour? And recall his awful stats? He in fact, hadn't got enough strength to wear the armour he'd been given for backstory. He didn't, according to the DM, have enough to remove his own armour. And we attempted to, but also failed our checks according to the DM. And Damien Bloodmoon refused to help, simply blaming Krug and his player. Krug's player thought it was hilarious, and Krug only had enough Intelligence and Wisdom to say his own name, so saw no problem. And Krug, Nox Feratu and Shaman realised that there really...wasn't a problem.

For us, at least.

We slogged through three combats dragging Krug and wading through the mud with him. His speed was so slow that for every step he took, we took about ten. The DM was confused and infuriated that his encounters weren't working, but refused to change them. So we had fun role-playing. Or at least three of us did.

Damien Bloodmoon refused to roleplay, and none of his ranged spells could affect the zombie mages. When he went into melee, he came out wounded as all hell. He went down twice, and it was only the healing supplies of the shaman that saved him.

All the while, he was... Let's say not best pleased. Damien Bloodmoon was getting increasingly wounded, exasperated and longing for the sweet embrace of death as reprieve from the humiliation. His player was getting increasingly redder and rage-filled as time passed. Each fight ended with our characters stronger than ever and his a bloody pulp on the floor, with poor in-character knowledge (and terrible rolls) preventing him from realising why.

Eventually, we reached the final boss, pausing only to paint Krug's armour in contact poison just in case, and to find a stick to help the now-partially-crippled Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of death and murder, walk after being beaten up by angry zombie wizards for hours. And it had, indeed, been hours. Among us, only Damien had a bonus to strength, and we had two swords, a mace and a staff between the four of us. Meaning it was re-death by a thousand cuts for the enemy and a slog and a half for us.

We reach the necromancer and, having taken so long due to dragging the oblivious Krug with us, his big ritual is complete- he raises a fist-sized black onyx egg aloft, crackles with arcane power and causes the bones around him to coalesce into one massive creature - an undead, giant-sized rust monster, radiating an Aura of pure negative energy. Krug opened his arms wide, eager for the metal-eating monster cockroach to free him from his poison-painted metal prison. It ignores him as he's still very far away. Me and the others have our weapons and armour devoured.

Our DM was very much a stickler for note-taking. So because Damien Bloodmoon hadn't written 'clothes' on his sheet, his armour being eaten by the monster left him naked and afraid.

It became clear that the DM had done another f***y-wucky. See, the Aura of negative energy healed me and the Sorcerer by more than its other attacks did. So whilst Damien Bloodmoon was naked, soaked in mud and bleeding to death almost crushed to a pulp in the fetal position, rocking backwards and forwards as his player seethed with hatred, the Shaman and the Campire set about beating the thing to death with our bear hands and a stick.

The session ended once we killed the necromancer, or rather when Krug walked up to him, closed his arms and just crushed the noodle-armed bad guy to death with the weight of his ridiculous armour and poisoned him with its paintwork.

We never revisited the game afterwards. We were told later on that the DM wanted us to use the non-undead races. But at no point had he said as much, even when we asked him about our characters and the restrictions on them. We also learned a valuable lesson. DM for the players who are there, not the ones who you have an idealised mental image of. Tailor your game, otherwise you'll get a sitcom featuring a camp nosferatu, a shaman with no healing, a paladin who could barely move and a Cleric of murder who was ironically the only one at risk of actually dying.