#i very rarely ''finish'' the game

[storm-of-feathers]

did you know crabsnakes sleep like sperm whales?

[a-lonely-dunedain]

guys I'm literally gonna cry this is so cute. I was about to log off Ethedis but had her /kiss Corunir one last time before moving servers AND THAT WAS THE LAST ONE SHE NEEDED FOR THE HIDDEN DEED

the timing was literally perfect, she's never taking off this title

[springsketches]

*Sigh* I’m trying to keep playing nine sols because it’s really good, but (without spoiling too much) there’s a stealth section and I am AWFUL at stealth. It doesn’t matter how low stakes it is, if you give me a stealth section you can guarantee I’m too scared to do anything to progress. My anxiety peaks whenever stealth anything is involved and there isn’t even an auto save feature, you have to do it in one go 🥺

[daughterofsarenrae]

Ill be having a normal day and then i think about the elric brothers or link & zelda and BAM. now im insane again

[articianne]

-

[wellhalesbells]

✨ nanowrimo projects ✨

so i've decided to try to do nano this month word count-wise only - 50k words on however many projects i decide to get in the mix, just to kind of dip my toe back into not only writing regularly but also (maybe, hopefully) posting as well \o/ i'm only going to list projects i have actually started work on because while i have goals for what i want to finish, i also cannot be trusted until i'm actually doing the thing

the grumpy + sunshine husband meg 2 fic that's eating my brain (5,074 / 5,000) - How to Get Married without a Single Date

i love you, man + sterek = stiles starts saying 'i love you' to the pack... it goes about as well as could be expected (1,073 / 6,000)

[fionnaskyborn]

pros of learning how to play fighting game:

undergoing a learning experience, trying out something entirely different from anything i have previously played

i get to look at a little guy do cool things on my screen :)

cons of learning how to play fighting game:

i am clumsy as all hell with the inputs

the order in which you press and/or hold buttons to create inputs is less like trying to get a sequence of movements right and more like playing a rhythm game (down then while not letting go of down press forward then let go of down and THEN press an attack button on the other side of the keyboard). i suck at rhythm games. hell world

sometimes, the damn things just... won't register? at all? you do a half circle to forward input and the game says "half circle forward? oh, sorry, that's ensenga :)" or, worse, "too slow, that's a regular heavy slash move :)". brother. why must you do me like this.

the area between the knuckles of my ring and little finger hurts like a motherfucker (though this has hurt in various areas since at least this morning, but i'm willing to bet that practicing quarter and half circle inputs for at least an hour did not make the situation any better)

[homosexualcitron]

i want to do art trades with moots so badly but i want to finish the current chapter i'm working on before arrgg

[quibbs126]

I swear, it’s always “start a new game” with me and never “finish the game you’ve already started”

Today it’s Sword for the millionth time because I’ve never actually beaten the game or gotten particularly far in it, and I realize I’m severely out of my depth when it comes to Gens 8 and 9 because I barely played those games

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

rain, blood, rivulets, runner, daughter, home, you

Regardless, Wilbur likes to come here a lot. It’s a pretty place, a few minutes walk from Pogtopia; it’s right in the wilderness, no buildings or houses or people around. Just grass, and dirt, and a few tiny flowers, and a lot of trees, and a big blue sky. Well, sometimes blue. Sometimes it’s kinda grey, and cloudy, and other times it cries small cold raindrops that splat into your eyes and make your clothes all damp and uncomfortable.

Wilbur doesn’t care if he gets wet, though. He’ll just come here anyway.

~~~

After several seconds of trying, Wilbur gives up, relaxing once more into this odd state of being. He realizes that his cheek hurts along with his neck, because his face is pressed firmly against this thing. It's probably stopping the blood flow right there.

AND!!!

For a moment, Wilbur's vision goes dark, and it takes several rasping breaths and hard blinks to rid it of black spots. Tommy is bleeding. There's blood on him. His eyes are closed. He's bleeding. He's completely still. He's bleeding. His eyes are closed. He's not moving. There's blood on him. There's blood on Tommy.

~~~

Nothing for rivulets!

~~~

Nothing for runner, either!

~~~

Dang. Nothing for daughter :0

~~~

After a few hours, Niki had stepped back, placed her hands on her hips, and looked around. She quite liked the place, if she was being perfectly honest. It felt cozy, similar to a home. It didn't feel like a company or an enterprise, devoid of emotion. No, it felt real. It felt personal. It felt like hers.

~~~

"You're so dramatic," Phil chokes out, chuckling.

AND!!!

"I'm fine," Wilbur assures, brushing off the hand that Phil didn't even realize had moved towards his son's chest. "I can stand on my own, Phil. You don't have to hold my hand."

~~~

Actually I’m gonna share a whole snippet from a story I genuinely forgot I’d started working on so aksvajdgsksgsh here ya go ⬇️

~~~

"Oh, mate... do you need water?" Phil glances at the table, finding a half-full glass of water just as Wilbur answers, "No."

"Are you hungry?"

Wilbur sighs again. "No. I just- Phil?"

"Yes?" Phil finds himself holding his breath.

Wilbur gazes at him for several seconds, and Phil notes with satisfaction that his eyes are no longer pink. His pupils are the usual rich-brown color that they aught to be.

Wilbur gives a slight shake of his head. "I want to go."

Phil stares. "You- go?"

"I want to get off of this couch. I want to get out of this cabin. I want to go, Phil. I want to-" Wilbur thrusts a hand forward, face twisting. "I want to go far away from this cursed land of snow, and never come back. I want to go outside."

Wilbur ends his rage-filled monologue, staring at his hands laid across his chest. His nostrils flare.

Phil watches him for a moment before dipping his head, beginning to shake with laughter.

Wilbur whips his head around to glare at him. "What?"

"You're so dramatic," Phil chokes out, chuckling.

"Wha- I've been confined in this place for weeks!"

"It's been four days, Wil."

Wilbur's eyes widen. Phil laughs harder.

"Only... only four days?" Wilbur questions, and Phil's laughter starts to subside when he hears how uncertain Wilbur sounds. "It hasn't even been a week? Only four days?"

"Yep." Phil nods. "A fever can really mess with your perception of time, can't it?"

Wilbur nods, at a loss for words. He stares back at his hands.

Phil chews on his lip. "You're feeling better, though. Right?"

"I guess."

Phil reaches forward, resting his palm on Wilbur's head. His son goes very still.

"You don't have a fever anymore. Still a little warm, but you're definitely getting better," Phil says, pulling his hand away. Wilbur relaxes instantly.

Phil feels a stab in his heart.

"Feeling- you said I'm better, right? So I can leave?"

"No."

Wilbur lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a whine. "But I'm better! You said so yourself, Phil! I'm doing better, see? Look, I can... I can stay at Tommy's, and he can keep on eye on me! Right?"

"No," Phil repeats, a small smile appearing on his face. "I'm not letting you leave until you've made a full recovery, Wilbur."

"But you said-"

"I said you're getting better. I never said that you were better. You still have a ways to go, mate."

Wilbur groans, letting his head fall onto his pillow in dramatic fashion. He squeezes his eyes shut. "I don't think I can survive like this much longer."

Phil chuckles, but his brow furrows with concern. "You're not going to be like this much longer. A week, at most."

"A week?" Wilbur's eyes snap open, and he cranes his head around to stare at Phil. "No. You're joking. Please tell me you're joking."

Phil opens and closes his mouth. "I mean... I'm not. You had a really bad infection, mate. You can't just heal from that overnight."

Wilbur stares for a couple seconds longer before laying his head back on his pillow, gazing up at the ceiling. He looks haunted—no. He looks scared.

Phil sighs. "It'll be okay, Wil. You'll get through this. Alright? Just trust me on that. You'll be fine."

Wilbur tries to hide it, but Phil can see how his breathing picks up; how his chest rises and falls with increasing speed; how his nostrils flare; how his eyebrows knit together in quick, barely perceptible movements.

Wilbur's starting to panic. And Phil doesn't know why. It's not like he's being held hostage or anything; he's just on bedrest. Nothing more. He's not trapped. He's not stuck. He's not-

Oh.

[t0kyo-l1ghts]

in arknights i went from being a broke ass who consistently has around 236 lmd from leveling units to being financially stable with over 600k lmd and its all thanks to the wolfgirl yaoi event

[ghostprinceiii]

I finished the game :)

[danielnelsen]

oh jesus fucking christ i think bringing both lae'zel and karlach here was definitely the most interesting choice story-wise

[chisungie]

.

[buffdaddyphoenix]

Omg I just finished case 4 of soj I am SPEEDING thru this game

[michi-chelle]

god now i want to replay omori! again!