#i might play the game just bc of him

[osachiyo]

He’s such a cutie pie… I wanna chew on him.

[too-many-lavellans]

🧡🦌🛡💙

(Please don't tag/comment with your Rook, thanks)

[neonhellscape]

Him..............

[moeblob]

Huevember 22

Brent, the most expressive bard to ever bard.

[greywoe]

nooo theon don't listen to the stinky man

bonus:

[bitchfitch]

I've started playing Potion Permit, and so far it's one of my favorite games I've messed around with, but the most big brained move the devs made was giving you a dog on day 1, and then making that dog able to track NPCs and lead you directly to them no matter where they are in the town.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Here’s a sort of…. Prompt? Headcanon? Idea?? For Danny Phantom.

Let’s go with the,, semi-fanon idea of cores. We see the Far Frozen with ice powers, with their whole little civilization. They are ALSO the only ghosts we see that have any medical knowledge.

So what if ghosts with ice cores had healing powers? Danny is very durable, but he also (probably) has advanced healing.

Idk, it’d be a fun possibility to explore Danny ‘plays as a tank in irl superheroics 4 times out of 5’ Phantom finding out he can heal people while doing a school-mandated cpr class.

[telesodalite]

Woe, unfinished, mildly edited, fulfire fic tid-bits be upon you

-

Like a magnet, his optics kept drifting back to Misfire's face. His stupid, strangely charming face.

For a short while, after Clemency, it had been that face that haunted some of his nightmares. His recalls blurring the lines between the strange reality of Misfire's hands reaching into him to lock his fuel pump back into the very spot he'd pulled it from, and the fear that just as easily he could pull it out again. They had been bloody dreams. Dreams that had him startling awake, gripping his chest in the vain attempt to close what wasn't open, before spending the rest of the day avoiding Misfire's optics.

But now things were different. Not Misfire's face. No, that hadn't changed much. But Fulcrum's dreams had definitely changed. To say the least of what all rolled around in his processor as he slept nowadays.

Some of those newer dreams had crept to the forefront of his mind as he sat there on the couch, staring as the lights of the screen reflected dully across Misfire's plating in hazy blues and greys.

The lighting made his colors seem muddy and faded, but Fulcrum didn't really care, nor did he care to think what it made himself look like. He was too busy bringing an empty engex can to his lips while he watched the crinkle of Misfire's nose as he barked a laugh at something Fulcrum didn't catch onscreen.

He'd started noticing it months ago, all the ways the silvery mesh of Misfire's face would scrunch up with his emotions. Those little crinkles along his optics and nose when he laughed or glared. The creases indented along his cheeks when he grinned. Fulcrum found himself quietly logging away these little details. Idle notes and observations that had suddenly started piling up in the corners of his processer.

He… He'd never really done that before? He'd never really noticed those sorts of things in other mechs.

The faces and expressions of his past colleagues never seemed terribly important. All the details of every smile and frown were never worth filing away, outside of few notable moments where those expressions reflected his work performance. But besides the smile that meant promotion, and the frown that meant he'd screwed up, nothing else was noticeable. Nothing was worth remembering.

But now the memory of every genuine laugh that bubbled out of Misfire sat comfortably besides memories of warm joyful optics that Fulcrum found himself collecting every time Crankcase cracked a rare half-smile for him, or when Krok placed a reassuring hand against his back, or the times Spinister spontaneously pointed out something odd but ultimately nice about his stupid frame.

He didn't really know why he was doing it, memorizing all these mundane little things, just to have them flit through his processer randomly. Maybe it was because those expressions, those details, felt… comforting? Comforting in such a strange and unfamiliar way. But, a good way. A good sort of strange, much like the mechs themselves.

-

-

He had stared for a long moment, the credits and their rolling tune playing somewhere in the background as Fulcrum stared back. But Misfire was never one for personable silence, even as the sound of some likely long dead Iaconian orchestra filled the room.

"What is it?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping him as he brought a hand to his face, "Don't tell me I've poured it all over myself again."

It had taken Fulcrum longer than usual to unstick his glossa from the roof of his mouth as he watched Misfire run a thumb over his lips, but eventually he had coughed out a small, choked, "No."

That had earned him an odd look at first, but with their fields loose and open, Fulcrum could almost feel the exact moment something clicked in Misfire's mind, as the idle comfortable static he projected in pulsing waves evened out into something openly curious and almost subdued.

It wasn't often Fulcrum felt him that clearly.

Misfire tended to keep his field fairly close, though, maybe not as close as the others did, what with how Crankcase kept an iron grip on his, and how Krok's always held an air of strained control, even when it slipped from him. But still, Misfire's was always hard to read, no matter the reach or depth of his field.

Even then and there, with it loose and unfiltered and buzzing with the engex running through his system, there was an ever present undertone of something indescribably jumbled about him, like too many feelings at once, each too vast and hurried for Fulcrum to really feel or understand.

It always seemed to stir the passive anxiety Fulcrum must've been forged with when Misfire's field brushed against his own. As facing the indescribable vague mess of Misfire felt like trying to untangle a pile of live-wires he couldn't even see.

It was almost frustrating in a sense, the need to try and sort and understand what wasn't even his to begin with. But at the same time it was almost exciting as well. It was like a game, like a puzzle he had yet to solve.

-

-

Finally letting his own can go tumbling to the floor to join Misfire's, Fulcrum had brought a hand to cover his face as he drew his legs up and leaned back against the arm of the couch, trying to suppress the fit as the sly look slipped from Misfire's face at the sounds.

While Fulcrum had laughed, and… snorted, embarrassingly, he had felt Misfire's field change again, brushing something fizzy and almost warm against his plating as Misfire's features softened.

"I'm looking at you," Fulcrum had said then between gulps of air, letting his hand fall from his face as he reached out to poke at Misfire's chest, "Dumbaft."

His finger had lingered over the thick plating there for maybe a little longer than necessary, drawing Misfire's attention as it slid down a little before pulling away.

Looking back up again with his helm angled slightly, Misfire had followed the sight of his hand leaving his plating to where Fulcrum let it fall between them.

"Wow…" Misfire had chuckled a little dryly, "I was gonna make it real easy for you. I was going to say something like, ''Do you like what you see?'' or-… or something like that. But now you've ruined it. Good job."

Meeting Fulcrum's optics again as he pulled his own hand back from Fulcrum's shoulder, he brought it to rest between them as well.

"And you're laughing at me," He said next, faking a small pout as his hand drifted closer to Fulcrum's, "Which totally ruins the whole vibe I was going for really. I mean, it's sort of hard to be all nice and suave-like when you're being laughed at. Total vibe killer. Bit of an ego killer too if I'm being honest. So thanks for that loser, thanks for saying I have a funny face."

With Misfire's fingers brushing distractingly past his own, Fulcrum didn't think before the words stumbled out of him.

"I like your face."

It came out almost matter of fact sounding, Fulcrum's laughter having died down while Misfire complained about it. But at the same time the words felt so simple, they came out so easily, and in a weird way they felt nice to say. But Misfire's optics had widened in surprise, his frame frozen and his field suddenly struck quiet, and despite the engex numbing his usual nerves, Fulcrum felt a sudden pang of anxiety because of it.

The silence in Misfire's field was terribly alien. It felt wrong, and something in Fulcrum spiraled to think he had caused it. But slowly, almost as if it were creeping forward, an odd almost scrutinizing uncertainty fanned outward in a careful wave. Misfire moved with it, leaning closer as he searched Fulcrum's expression for something.

"Oh yeah?" He'd said lowly then, and that sly look returned. But that vague uncertainty didn't fade with it, if anything, Fulcrum felt it strengthen. Caught between what he saw, in Misfire's easy smile and dimmed optics, and what he felt, in the growing hollow distance within their fields, Fulcrum found himself frowning and pulling back.

-

-

Growing frustrated with himself, and wanting that feeling back, he had pushed forward, shifting onto his knees as he reached for Misfire's face before the other could pull away from him entirely.

"I like your face." He said firmly, maybe too firmly. His expression still drawn into a frown as he pressed his fingers into Misfire's helm, brushing his thumbs across the silver mesh he'd been staring so intently at before. "I like your optics, and your nose. I- I like the way you smile. When you really smile, and when you laugh. I do. I'm not lying."

And oh there it was again, that little curl of warmth in Misfire's field. Almost a tangible thing, like a brush of ventilation, but Misfire wasn't venting. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but no breath left him as he stared at Fulcrum with widening optics.

Spurred on by that tiny bloom of warmth, Fulcrum chased after it with slightly slurred words and clumsy hands as he tried to fix whatever he'd done wrong, hoping with each word that Misfire might soften and smile again.

"I like your expressions, and- and I like your voice," He said, glancing down at Misfire's parted lips, and laughing softly, nervously, as he continued, "Even when you say something so stupid. I like- I like the way it sounds. I like your accent, I like the way it makes your words sound. I- I like your- your mouth?"

Once more that weird but nice feeling settled in Fulcrum's chest. Those simple words felt good to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, like an admission he'd been waiting to say. About what and why? He wasn't really sure. But the warmth grew, and Misfire took a sharp vent inwards, and that felt right, so Fulcrum kept on.

"I like your helm," He said with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers over the jutting finials there, before dropping his hands to settle lightly over Misfire's chest. "I like your frame, the colors of it. I like your-"

Before he could finish, Misfire was surging forward, knocking their helms together and nearly bruising the mesh of their noses as he tried for, and just barely missed, Fulcrum's lips.

-

👁👁👍

[mylove-thresher]

What illegal downloads from sketchy websites and someone you miss leads to

[enden-k]

whenever i get potg as ram im too distracted by my chosen intro for him to pay attention to whatever i did to earn it bc hes just so

and im so

[wyldblunt]

okay really niche OC chat prompt today but. you know that common trope where a character is transported into an illusory world that shallowly fulfills all their wishes/removes all current conflicts ("oh my god, i'm back home in my warm bed, none of the horrible Plot Events actually happened, my dead loved one is alive and says 'what are you talking about, silly? are you feeling okay? i made breakfast! ^^'", etc), usually as a way to delay them from finding + defeating whoever is making the illusion or whatever

say your commander (or anyone) gets trapped in one of those. how long does it take them to figure out something's wrong (alternately if u have multiple ocs u wanna answer for, rank them from "immediately sniffs it out" to "would blissfully waste away there forever"). extra credit: what's everybody's insidious wish-fulfillment illusion world

[heloflor]

Was thinking a bit about how “The Devil’s Playhouse” has a lot more comedy than people make it out to be, and while especially thinking about “The Penal Zone” I realized this episode is actually very very very very gay. Like, I’m pretty sure it’s the Telltale episode with the highest amount of gay moments (205 is second on this list, what with Sam getting catcalled by a moleman, Max flirting with Mr. Reaperphone, the whole bachelor party, Peppers etc).

I think what I really like about those moments is that it’s a great example of normalization. The characters are incredibly casual about it, talking about gay relationships the exact same way one would talk about straight relationships, it’s really neat to see! Especially considering that this game was made in 2010, a whooping 5 years before gay marriage was legal in the whole US. It's crazy and great how much they were able to get away with!

(Screenshots of all these moments with timestamps (and quotes) under the cut. To have as little pics as possible, only a small section of each dialogue is taken. And to have a limit of two screenshots per pic max, some dialogues that are cut in two parts in-game have the second part pasted under the first. The timestamps puts you at the beginning of each conversation. All footage from NapalmX717 with the screenshots in chronological order of this video)

Max: “What can I say, Sam? Alien ships love to abduct me. It’s not my fault I look so probe-able.” (9:44)

Sam: “Nice work, little buddy! Make sure you wait three days to call, or he’ll thing you’re desperate.” (11:47)

Max: “Well, he IS pretty charismatic, Sam. And he’s from space, which is a plus. But you’re the only hairy, overweight, domineering control freak I need, Sam.” (20:38)

Sam: “I don’t need to go to another planet for a methane rich environment, as long as I’ve got you, pal.”

Max: “That’s really sweet and obvious, Sam.” (22:46)

Skun-ka’pe: “Perfect! Just the one I wanted to see ha ha ha ha!”

Sam: “Keep the hands where we can see ‘em, pal.” (23:36)

Max: “We could just give ourselves tongue-baths, like cats and flight attendants do!” (30:57)

Sam: “Why do we have jumper cables? Neither of us knows how to use them.”

Max: “It’s simple, Sam: the RED cable goes on the RIGHT nipple, the BLACK cable clamps to the…” (34:42)

Max: “Oh boy! Now I can finally set up my 24-hours adults-only naked bunny chat line.” (34:58)

Sam: “Toys...Toys… we must prepare… the toys….”

Max: “Well, that’s just a typical Friday night for YOU, Sam.” (36:45)

Flint Paper: “Oh. Well yeah, that could be it. I was thinking it was you, Sam!”

Max: “You think you know a guy. I’m not angry, Sam, just very disappointed.” (1:03:49)

(For context they’re talking about who might be Girl Stinky’s secret admirer)

Max: “I can’t lie to Flint Paper, Sam!” (1:05:20)

Max: “What kind of pretend mother would I be if I didn’t worry about our imaginary baby?” (1:10:31)

Momma Bosco: “Oh, it’s not all bad. I’m getting better at apparating. And now I don’t leave a trail of ectoplasmic slime behind every time I leave the room.”

Max: “That’s better than Sam can say.” (1:23:13)

Sam: “I’m not gonna rest until I find the guy who killed my partner!” (1:43:13)

Max: “Wow. I feel really very close to you now, Agent Superball.” (1:45:33)

Sam: “I don’t like the thought of you teleporting off without me, Max.” (1:46:33)

Max: “Sam, this is all so sudden! I… I don’t know what to say!” (2:07:10)

Sam: “I think one of us should try to smash through that window with his rock-hard, melon-sized head.”

Max: “And I think one of us should try the door, unless he wants to spend the rest of the day picking plate glass out of his partner’s fluffy white nether regions.” (2:17:00)

Girl Stinky: “Sam and Max? Don’t tell me Skun-ka’pe wants YOU guys to be his love slaves, too?” (2:24:48)

Girl Stinky: “Eww. He wishes. He’s SO not my type. You only have to date an evil gorilla once to learn never to make THAT mistake again.”

Max: “We’ve all been there, girlfriend.” (2:25:07)

Girl Stinky: “Gee, it sounds like YOU two should go out with him. Would you like me to give you guys some privacy?” (2:27:33)

Max: “You’re my best friend, Sam! I know you’d take a bullet for me!” (2:31:02)

Sam: “You keep coming up with creepy disaster scenarios that always end with you eating me, Max. It’s getting annoying.”

Max: “If you don’t like it, then stop looking so damn tasty.” (2:38:11)

Max: “Think of something quick, Sam. I don’t like the way he’s undressing me with his eyes.” (2:53:22)

[basaltdelta]

I just finished full metal alchemist and im literally not normal at all. I havent drawn fanart in so long but im about to crack and do it anyways

I need something Alphonse centric, like, im obsessed with living your formative years in a suit of armor and how much that ingrains into you and your habits in a way that I can't find anything focusing on. Do you think he still ducks under doorways too much? do you think he reaches for things and misses or misjudges how large his hand will be? Like how used is he to just Letting Himself bump into things, or vice versa- being extremely careful not to break anything.

I'm Extremely Transgender so maybe its the transhumanism love in me talking when I wonder these things

[imageingrunge]

I loved their love....

[impossible-rat-babies]

also I keep doing the thing where I have an interaction. astarion disapproves. I sigh. I reload the save before the interaction. I kick him back to camp. I do the thing. I pick the lad back up.

[jichanxo]

how it started:

how it's going: