#its been a while since i played it

[salt-water-phone]

I have a headcanon that Gemma liked fighting games as a kid. i accidentaly wrote a lot about it.

Gemma loved fighting games ever since she was a kid. When she was 12, her parents bought her a PS1, as a reward for another year of good grades, and for the price of half a year of her allowance.

She didnt ask her parents for the game. She knew it was a weird thing for girls to like. so instead, she bought it off a classmate who complained that he didnt have the right console for it.

She only ever played it when her parents werent home, or when they were sleeping. At night, she would keep her controller under a blanket to muffle the clicking. But it felt good to be big, angry and strong, even when it was only in this fantasy. It felt good to mash the buttons. Setting free the movements that she forgot used to come naturally. tapping things with her fingers, twiddling her thumbs, bouncing up and down on her tiptoes.

her parents never figured out about the game. but one day they told her that she had been acting strange lately.

Are you nervous?

No, mom.

Would you stop fidgeting at the dinner table so much?

Alright.

She learned to control herself better.

As she got older she moved toward other interests, sick of the confused stares when people came to visit and saw her console. upset at the needless ridicule when word got around the school, but too tired to fight.

She cried herself to sleep, holding her controller tightly, knowing she would never charge it again.

When she was 15, she sold it at a flea market.

The years pass her, and by the time she meets mark, she barely even thinks about it anymore. Shes passionate about her job, and she tries her hand at a cool new art project every now and then. she reads books, writes papers, goes through homework.

One time, she tells him about it. Recounts a story about staying awake at night, sneaking into the living room and playing street fighter alpha on her familys playstation with no sound.

Mark wouldnt mind, he tells her, if she got back into it. The only thing waiting for her in the morning would be him and an extra cup of coffee.

On her next birthday, they go to a secondhand tech store. they had to drive out of town for it, but it was nicer like this. no white, burning lights. no huge hallways to get lost in. no screens constantly running.

When Gemma dies - when he thinks Gemma dies, time becomes a depressing sludge. snow-rain muddled with dirt that has the decency to splash under your feet and let you know its there.

in the midst of it, hes loosing his grip. He misses her, but he cant trust himself to grieve her right. He cant even trust his memory of her.

So here he is, frantically, pleadingly clawing through boxes. He stares at her photo, and it feels wrong. Its not her anymore. It will never be her again. Nothing in here is gonna be alive the way she fucking lived.

A sob wrecks his body. his hands are still in the box, pawing around uselessly. grabbing at anything, just to have something in his hands.

He closes his left hand and feels smooth plastic. when he wipes his eyes on his sleeve and looks down, he sees one of the PS4 controllers they bought together.

rummaging further through the boxes, he finds the console and the cables for it as well. He also takes the only game they ever bought for it, and carries it all upstairs to his TV.

Once he has everything set up and the playstation turned on, he opens the game discs case and pops it out. Staring at the title printed on it in the soft glow of the screen, he tried to remember why Gemma picked it out.

''Gang Beasts''. She thought it looked fun, and the writing in the back had said something about weird physics and cartoonishly gruesome deaths. She always liked trying new things, and something obscure like that sounded like a great place to start.

His hand is still shaking slightly when he puts in the disc. he starts up the game, and sure enough, it is what it says on the tin. humanoid characters with physics like jello. he customizes his character, tries to start a game on local mode- to access online mode, you'd need some sort of a subscription that he doesnt have the nerve for right now- but something doesnt work. it isnt working.

Only after a few minutes he realizes there is no singleplayer option. No bots to make him feel better. Nothing to help him forget that he rots on the couch on most days, and in one of his only sober moments, he's still lonely as shit.

He has Devon, of course, but- and he doesnt blame her, but she's got her own life. he's glad when shes there, but when she isnt, theres just... nothing. And if his life feels like it can just fucking move on, then thats great, but he cant do it like this. he needs some fucking consistancy, people who see him as a person when he cant fucking feel it. Somebody who he thinks about, and it suddenly makes sense to go to bed early and eat enough and do his laundry.

Someone who kicks his ass in fighting games.

[koobiie]

A lone swordsman stands in the chamber. He seems... quite lost.

[baeshijima]

hmmm.... thoughts about composer!reader, whose pieces are always created for and featured in mr reca's films/projects.

people aren't sure when it first started, but in the release of one of his prior films was an ost. of course, it's not unusual to have music in such projects, but that one had felt... different, somehow — in the way its composition struck the chords of many, with billions across the cosmos instantly scouring for who made that piece.

it, of course, didn't take all that long when your name was featured in the credits. however there was barely any information aside from your name and credentials. (seriously, how could there not even be a single photo?!) no one knew what you looked like for quite a long time, only ever recognising your name and your music; even despite the numerous interviews, mr reca had never disclosed anything about you other than your talents. it came to a point where everyone believed they would never see your appearance.

well, until all hell broke loose during the annual intergalactic film awards, that is.

everyone already knew the drill — if mr reca had directed a film that year, it would undoubtedly win the adapted/original screenplay, cinematography, directing, production design, sound, music (original score and song), and film of the year awards, which also led to you winning both the music awards. usually, the composers would be the ones to collect said awards. however, the masses have become used to mr reca being the one to collect them on your behalf with thank you's also on your behalf.

that's how it's been ever since you made your mark in the universe, and so it really is understandable the uproar created by those in and out of attendance when the one who went collect the two awards wasn't the esteemed director, but a completely unfamiliar person; you.

you are definitely younger than they originally thought, having believed it must have been someone of a senior status of sorts to have consistently created such masterpieces. all eyes are trained on you as you step on stage and into the limelight for the first time, the light enhancing your features and formal attire when approaching the mic with a small flashcard in hand. your mouth opens, and the audience leans in with baited breaths as they await your first words.

...only for nothing to come out.

everyone watches a little dumbfounded as you try to talk once more but, aside from gaping like a fish, your efforts remain futile. it doesn't take long for you to clamp your mouth and eyes shut, even raising the awards in front of you in an attempt to shield your face from the crowd.

you... you were just really shy. or maybe a little...socially awkward, perhaps...? if this was the reason you never showed yourself, then they're beginning to understand why...

it passes in a blur — quite literally in that of brown. one moment you are alone on the stage, the next you have the presence of the renown director standing slightly in front of you, as though acting as a shield from the many prying eyes.

"apologies," he begins, his usual smile on display, "but my dearest composer has been suffering with a sore throat these past few days. on their behalf, we thank you all kindly for your support in our work."

and then he swiftly leaves with you tucked under and shielded by his coat, murmuring unreadable words to you as you both disappear backstage and leave everyone in a state of frenzy; to both those inside the ceremonial hall, and to those watching live elsewhere.

(it was only discovered after the awards ceremony concluded what the director had said to you, with the uploader being dubbed as a holy saint for their contributions to society. while the visual aspects of the video itself were not the clearest, barely anyone had it within themselves to complain when the audio was clear as crystal:

"and here i thought you were going to be brave and face your stage fright after all that pep-talk you gave yourself on the way here."

"i'm sorry... i really thought i could do it this time..."

"now, now, i'm merely teasing. you made a big step just making an appearance here today. i know how much courage this took for you, and i'm proud of you for facing it."

"really...?"

"but of course. i'm always proud of you, [name]. there is not a moment where i haven't been.")

(it also was not long until the cosmos was taken by storm when various pictures snapped during the awards ceremony spread. the millions of candids featuring you were one of the most liked and shared, with the top spot joined by the sequence of pictures taken of mr reca's soft expression when watching you onstage, into his realisation of your predicament, into him running onstage and shielding you from the cameras when making your way backstage.)

(...the drastic influx of fan accounts dedicated to both you alone and to you and reca should really be a studied phenomenon.)

[dasketcherz]

"What if I lose control...?"

"You won't. And even if you do, I'll pull you back."

"How would you do that?"

"I'll find a way. We'll find a way, we always do... I promise."

[rheya28]

Sunshine's and Countryside's

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[dennisboobs]

:) i certainly have no issue dressing in drag :)

^guy who has no issue dressing in drag btw

glenn said that dennis' drag name is victoria von hemen btw

(Source)

[dimeadozencows]

The drawing ideas I get when I'm washing the dishes

One of Noelle's stranger dreams

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 11 - Loss

[ballwizard]

can i be real with you guys i fucking hate the "HOW HIGH WERE U WRITING THIS XD CARBON MONOXIDE DETECTOR!!! LOL WHAT!! UR A CRAZY PSYCHO FOR WRITING YHIS" schtick that I've been seeing around recently . it's like. Not funny at best and really rude and annoying at worst

[tamagoneko]

AU where the mom lady from undertale takes care of branch? (I forget her name. Never played undertale, only watched playthroughs a LONG time ago.)

anon how dare you put my two big autisms together! ;w;

[okcassin]

teehee naruto and mudkip

[whattheskyknows]

Sometimes I think about how Kaito and Kokichi had the shared unique experience of being two people who knew they only had a limited time to live (Kokichi and the poison/Kaito with his illness.)

I think as he lived through his last hours, Kokichi probably would've felt some sort of respect towards Kaito for being able to live passionately despite knowing he wasn't going to live life as long as everyone else. Vice versa, really. I think Kaito also would've felt some respect towards Kokichi for wanting to make the most of what little time he had left, even if that was designing and carrying out his own demise.

Only they both knew what it was like to live life knowing the end was close, and they both embraced that instead of fearing it. I think that might be why Kaito was so willing to work with Kokichi even though he hated him. Kokichi, although briefly, knew he was racing against time, and still fought for something he cared about (ending the killing game.)

I also love that they both got to go out their own ways after being doomed to die. (Kokichi and the hydraulic press and Kaito passing because of his illness and not Monokuma's punishment. Their deaths felt like a middle finger to Monokuma personally, and I love that for them.) They were denied the right to live long lives, but they made damn sure they went out with a bang.

(I also think about how easily Kokichi could've saved himself but instead gave Kaito the antidote. Maybe that was another reason why Kaito decided to help him carry out his plan. Kokichi knew Kaito was dying, but still decided he should be the one who got to live. I don't think Kokichi saw Kaito's illness as a weakness. After all, his reasoning to give Kaito the antidote was so he could blackmail Kaito using Maki. Kaito's illness wasn't something Kokichi ever saw as a hindrance or factor (from what I can remember.) Kokichi just saw Kaito as someone capable of carrying out his plan.)

[likesdoodling]

I have a lot of pictures in my 'random stage plays' folder. So here's some stuff from Moriarty the Patriot. Cause I can. And yes. I am avoiding my colouring responsibilities, but lineart is so much quicker~

:)

[the-dragon-girl-27]

Thinking bout Kid Icarus... man I miss this game

bonus:

heres the sketch for this, normally i don't post sketches but i like the vibes of this one so ill show it off, especially cuz i accidentally changed the color scheme for the final version oops

[lynx-doodles-indie-games]

how are we feelin', crew?