#Indy is bad

[glitchlight]

Why does cleveland have the best radio stations of any metro area I've ever been in.

[kyriathanatos]

FOUND OUT THAT DARKSIDERS STORES ALL ITS CUTSCENES AS VIDEO FILES AND YOU CAN EASILY REPLACE THEM

[infimace-blog]

Some days I forget how much of my feelings are tied into the racial dynamics of orcs and then I see something like Don't Kill Them All and I want to break someone.

Accidentally clicked on the trailer after foiling YouTube's attempts to foist this on me for several days, and god fucking damn, it's white savior bullshit. Biracial girl raised by the white elven side of her family returns to her savage orcish brethren who definitely aren't supposed to be some kind of racial analogue to try and civilize them. Ignore that the girl and some of the orcs have dreadlocks. The half-orc has to introduce the orcs to such complex concepts as 'don't kill everything' and 'don't mindlessly destroy resources' and 'gathered food can be turned into delicious things like bread'. Who the fuck decided we needed a game about some privileged outsider teaching the 'savages' how to maintain their own land?

It's like the most Euro-centric bits of the Civilization games combined with DnD race politics, complete with the idea that only a half-orc (rather than a full orc) has the civility and intelligence to be a proper protagonist. I've seen so many people acting like we've fully divorced the fantasy concepts of orcs and goblins and the rest from real-world racial issues, and here we have someone recreating The White Man's Burden with orcs from base principles. Have y'all learned nothing from what black and indigenous people have been saying about orcs for years?

[porrigens]

do you look like the devil, Brian?

[haeryna]

thinking about idol!gojo and rockstar!geto (tw: mentions of underage drinking, implied abandonment, implied homophobia from gojo's parents, vague mentions of illness)

how you three, along with shoko, lived in the same ratty small town in the middle of nowhere. you'd moved when you were six, all shy and scared of the house your parents had moved to in order to help your sick grandmother that you barely remembered because the last time you'd seen her was when you were four. you were from the city; you'd never seen fireflies, or grass that stretched out as far as your eyes could see, and so when you saw the first firefly appear just as the sky turned to dusk, how were you supposed to resist it?

so you chased it down to the creek, all smiles and filled with excitement, until you realized it was dark, and you were in the forest, and you were scared. you couldn't help but start to cry, and that's where geto found you.

"are you lost?"

sniffling, you peered up at the dark haired boy, whose soft brown eyes filled with a sort of concern. "y-yeah," you hiccupped, and geto offers up a gentle smile. "it's okay, i know the way back."

and so, you'd taken his hand, let him tug you out of the creek bed, and lead you back toward the house that still didn't quite feel like home. you'd learn, his name was suguru. suguru geto, and wherever suguru geto was, satoru gojo was never too far behind (although you didn't know that, yet).

"you crying?"

you'd let out a startled yelp, still clinging to suguru's hand, twisting to look at the other boy who was staring at you with unrestrained curiosity. even at the age of six, you found him beautiful, with the piercing blue of his eyes, and the soft white down of his hair, even as he mocked you. satoru hadn't known how else to express the sort of silent jealousy that had torn its way through his chest once he saw you holding suguru's hand.

the two of you bickered, all the way back until they left you at your front door, much to suguru's displeasure. yet satoru was beaming; nobody but suguru and shoko dared to speak to him that way. he was too young to understand the way his heart seemed to churn every moment he saw you after .

later, you would meet shoko ieiri, who instantly took a liking to you, defending you with the stubbornness of an older sister you never had.

later, you would realize just how beautiful suguru and satoru were, as they grew. you were the one who pierced suguru's ears (a decision made at 1am in his basement), who bought satoru his first eyeshadow palette (his parents would have died if they'd ever see him use it). and it was eventually you who brought them into music, as you stared up at the ceiling of suguru's basement. the lights grew hazy as you blinked up at them, empty bottles of stolen beer surround you. suguru and shoko were busy smoking a pack of (also stolen) cigarettes, and satoru was on his phone.

"what if we like. made a band?"

you were only 16, and dreamed of leaving the small town you'd moved to. the temporary stay had turned permanent after your grandmother had inevitably passed. shoko immediately snorted. "i love you, but i can't sing for shit."

but you were persistent. you thrifted an old guitar that you gave to suguru as a birthday present, encouraged satoru's angelic singing.

you should have known they would outgrow you.

you're 21 now, still living in the old house, taking care of your parents. the dreams you'd had years ago turned into ash in your mouth. even shoko had left, off to pursue medical school.

you can't stomach looking at the news anymore. satoru has broken into the idol industry, creating equal amounts of chart toppers and scandals. an idol like that only comes once every one hundred years, they say. with the way he moves, the way he acts, you're inclined to believe it.

(when you watch him for the first time, on some variety show, you see him, see the way they've done his makeup, and you're brought back to sitting on the couch, telling him to stop moving or he'll mess up the eyeshadow you attempting to apply. you wonder if his parents were furious at the decision. you wonder where the eyeshadow palette you gave him went. did he take it with him before he left for good? bile rises heavy in your throat, and you shut off the television, unable to stomach it any longer.)

the radio is equally as traitorous. you know suguru has been dominating the indie charts, to the point where it's simply suguru and satoru competing against each other. you hate how whenever you go to the local bakery, you can hear his voice again playing through the speakers. hate how when you make the long drive to pick up your parents' medicine, how you can hear him through your car's speakers. it feels intimate in a way that you cannot bear.

(still, you hear the guitar and remember the look in his eyes when you gifted him the one you'd found in the thrift store. suguru had treated it reverently, telling you with an earnest sort of smile that, "the first song i write will be for you." he's traded out acoustics for rock. he has no need for that guitar anymore, you think absentmindedly. just like he no longer needed you.)

but what you don't know is that every time satoru's makeup artist gets to his eyes, he has to keep them firmly shut or else he'd burst into tears. she didn't do it like you. she never would. every time he steps onto the stage, he looks for you, though he knows he'll never find you. it never stops him from looking. how he sings his heart out in the hopes you'll hear him, unaware that despite his popularity, you avoid his music like it's deadly.

what you don't know is that every time suguru writes, he realizes how he lied to you. "the first song i'll write will be for you," he remembers, and yet now every song he writes is about you. now, girls he doesn't even know, screams his name, screams along to his songs that he wrote for you. they pretend that they're the girl who was left behind, the girl that he's never stopped loving.

(he'll never forget the way your hand fit into his, how even at the age of six he knew that you were the only one who ever had his heart along with satoru)

how on days he misses you particularly badly, the piercings you'd given him burns. he writes his love into his music, the music that you shut off every time you hear it come on the radio.

it changes nothing, if they come back, you tell yourself. suguru and satoru have each other. they don't need you.

but one day they do come back, come back for you, and it changes everything.

[leidensygdom]

My full piece for @ophazines ! I choose OFF because I played it last year and absolutely enjoyed the experience. It was a fun style to play with too~ I don't do fanart often, but indie games get me every now and then

Reblogs are much appreciated!

[kedreeva]

Lost count of how many times I've been told that peafowl don't eat/don't like fish. oh yeah? Tell that to the all-out warfare that breaks out when I bring home feeder fish.

I asked the guy at Petsmart today to grab the biggest fish in the feeder tank, since I saw some real chonkers in there somehow. I wasn't sure the peafowl would go for it, they usually get small ones, but I figured what the hell. I'll get a few, see how it goes. How it went was the fish were too big to be snatched and eaten in one motion, so there was screaming and running away with their prizes and fish being stolen from one beak by another and straight up warfare among babies who have no manners being defended by their moms who have no shame. Aris, who initially turned her nose up at fish, stealing them from her own children as well as from her wife, who was trying to call the babies over to get the fish she found for them, because Aris wanted them so badly, herself.

I can freely admit that it took a couple of tries to get them to try it out, and I had to use the darker grey/black normal "fish colored" fish to start with, and the barn pen birds still aren't sure about it, but it ALWAYS takes a time or two of offering a treat before the peafowl will try something new, and there's always some birds that don't like certain foods. But they are criminally social birds, they are puffin-level social birds, if one bird tries a treat and approves of it, the rest will start agreeing it's a Good Food even if they previously refused to eat it or touch it at all. If the first bird to the treat starts shaking their head and acting like it's bad, they'll all start doing that, usually without even trying it themselves, even if it's something they previously liked. So the trick is just repeatedly offering it until someone goes oh wait, this is delicious, and going from there.

[trashworldblog]

also... hot take... but i think expecting to get entertainment for free is actually bad for artists

[ash-and-starlight]

my “if something bad happened to them i’d kill everyone in the room and then myself” gang from the masquerade series (…..yeah i’m still in denial over [redacted] shut up)

[ebethtumbls]

PSA: if you've ever wanted to play an indie game made with unity, download it before january 1st 2024 or risk losing your chance! (for a list of unity games, i found this. can't say if it's completely comprehensive but it's a start)

if you're a game dev or aspiring game dev, i would check out unreal engine. it's widely documented, pretty easy to jump into, and free until you make over $1 million and then they take 5% above that- so if you made $1,000,001, epic games takes 5 cents. epic is a big corporation so they could pull some bullshit but it's less likely. and they have protection from future bullshittery if you stay with the current or older versions. beyond that, there are a ton of other free game engines out there or engines that are on the cheaper side (game maker for ex, only requires payment on export and is the game engine used for undertale/deltarune). so if you can help it, don't waste your time on unity!

and above all: fuck unity. indie games are so important and don't deserve to be fucked over by corporate greed

[rogue-healer]

Ugh I gotta ramble a bit about the Cassette Beasts starters.

So the first NPC you meet asks you what your aesthetic is, spooky or sweet, which corresponds to the two starters, but you’re not actually shown what the starters look like.

And instead of an element type thing, you’re asked for your aesthetic. I just think that’s such a fun twist. They’re not even opposites!

And even the two starters tie into the lore of the first people to see the beasts/monsters, calling them angels and demons, bc they didn’t know what else they could be.

But the most fun part IMO is that Sweet actually gives you Candevil, the demon-esque beast, and Spooky gives you Bansheep, the angelic one.

Now, that’s oversimplifying things a little, because both starters branch at their first remaster (evolution), and go on to have a third form.

Candevil’s entire thing is like, colorful manic pixie dream devil. One branch turns into a demonic rainbow gumball machine; the other goes into bisexual flag -ish… alchemy witch. So the “Sweet” beast has demon and witch.

Bansheep, on the other hand, is emo, goth, and fluffy, yet angelic. Sort of. One branch remasters into what you’d expect — a ghostly halo-ed floating sheep. The other is uh. A black metal tombstone-hugging zombie ram. So Spooky does kind of go the way you’d think, ghost and zombie, except with sheep.

Aren’t these designs awesome? One of the main design philosophies for CB critters is “Don’t begin and end at ‘elemental animal’”, and I think the starters showcase this perfectly.

This is all a very long-winded roundabout way of saying, if you like creature-collecting games with non-cliched cryptid-inspired critters, interesting companions with their own character development, weird analog-ish horror, dialogue that really gets you thinking about the power of humanity and friendship, and they/them pronouns, please for the love of fuck, try Cassette Beasts.

[errortdmn]

Stickers!

[panakoui]

a new meme just dropped and i just had to draw them x

[jesterjaxx]

Happy pride guys have yearning doomed yaoi 10 years later duntrent au wip

As a treat

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

“Can you cry on command?” you ask with interest, eliciting a bashful smile from your co-star, HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN.

After some internal debate, knocking his head back and forth when he searches the ceiling for his answer, he finally gives it to you. “Yes, I can.” It’s surprising, because he always manages to perform that perfect single-tear-fall cliché on camera. It’s so improbable that you’re sure it’s eyedrops. So you goad him to disprove your hypothesis.

You incline in his direction, engaging him. “Show me.”

His brows pinch, but his grin never falters, glancing over his shoulder. “Right now?” He’s not ashamed of the talent, but he doesn’t want someone to worry over him if they walked in without context.

“Yeah. Do it, c’mon. Bet you can’t.”

He moistens his lips, exchanging a look with you before he bows his head to concede. "Alright, alright. Talk to me about something, whatever you want." Out of the corner of your eye you see how he adjusts in his seat, rolling up his sleeves to lean his arms against the surface of the table you both sit at.

Your story that you relay to him is so pointless and inconsequential. What essentially consists of a laundry list of your dealings at a Lowe's store has his face gently twisting in anguish. His brows furrow into a defined frown, and he glances down at the table with a defeated shake of his head, knuckles rapping on the surface. His lower lip quivers. The sight of it shooting straight down to your core, yet you power through.

"... and they didn't even have the fixtures I wanted!"

"No," he croaks in disbelief, passionate over your unfortunate circumstances, "not the fixtures." The keen of his voice catches you off guard, how it cracks under the weight of that thick coating of a throat when it closes. It signals his imminent breakdown. The sheen appears on his eyes.

At first this was a joke, now not so much. Your phrasing slowing with each response, your acting skill faltering as you shift in your seat, subconsciously seeking out friction. "Yeah, I couldn't believe it. After I called to check too."

"Yeah- Yeah, after you called to check." he nods, showing you he's listening to you, that's upset on your behalf. Finally, that well overflows, and two perfect tears drop from his lids one by one, wetting his eyelashes. "God, baby, I'm so sorry." An apologetic and soothing palm strokes your arm, and you glance between it and him.

It renders you speechless, swallowing hard as you stare at his display. Why is this doing something to you? His large hand wipes down his face, sniffing.

"Can't believe it." he muses, filling the silence as you chew your lower lip. All of a sudden, other contexts in which to make him cry open up to you. A delicate pink blooming onto the tip of his nose and the buds of his cheeks, and you feel like fucking him within an inch of his life just to see it again. Overstimulate him until he sobs for real.

[cozylittleartblog]

if star wars was pitched for the first time in today's entertainment industry it would be turned down. and so would any other thing that's currently a "big IP". where do idiot executives think the IPs come from to begin with???