#The Indie 10

[y2kalbums]

10 YEARS OF: Night Time, My Time by Sky Ferreira

[boss-poss]

See, Lethal Company's real genius is that it somehow marries two normally opposed genres, those being horror and comedy together into something greater. Mechanically it's a multiplayer looter extraction survival type game. It's designed to create stressful and scary situations by forcing you to speedrun mini randomized dungeons while monsters hunt your character to meet a certain quota (our asses are not making quota). That's not the clever part though, no, that's giving the players the ability to fuck themselves over and the hilarity that comes from it.

Anything you say into your mic is said in the game world and can be heard by certain monsters. Many items, similarly, can be used to make noise and you can bet there is little impulse control when a player finds an air horn or gets a walkie talkie. The sound of a distant honk somewhere out of nowhere is not something most players are prepared for while in a pitch black maze. Sound in this game has a doppler effect, which makes it harder to hear the further away the source is, allowing screams to fade into nothing and unintelligible yelling heard for a second before vanishing. You must rely on your senses but those are, by design, limited and regularly tricked.

Because level layouts, monster locations, and item spawns are all random, it's insanely easy to get lost or lose track of thigs, especially in the dark and especially when panicking. Seeing a bracken for the first time will almost certainly send a player running in the opposite direction and get lost, if they even see it all. No one is prepared to have a hand wrap around their face and snap their neck in an instant. It's utterly shocking and will leave you gasping in surprise to first time you experience it.

Certain weather patterns make levels harder, some even nearly impossible (looking at you eclipse), and sometimes your options are avoiding deadly lightning or not being able to see due to fog. High level moons have excessively valuable loot but also feature the worst foes and cost a fee to access, forcing a compromise between greed, ability, and resources.

Dying, likewise incurs a penalties. Your team is fined for dying and not bringing the bodies back but if you all die, all your collected loot goes poof. Gone. A team wipe can and will effectively end the run in an instant if you do something stupid like stick around when you hear "pop goes the weasel" or try to pick up that funny looking roomba. You can almost feel the pressure weighing down on your shoulders when you realize you're the last one left and you need to get back to the ship or miss the quota.

The monsters likewise, are engines of terror that are comically effective killing machines with no cohesive theme to help anticipate them. The already mentioned bracken is one of the scariest things I've seen in a game, and those technically aren't even that bad. They're completely manageable if you keep your head on a swivel and pay attention to your surroundings. Coilheads are these mannequins with bobble heads that will path to and kill you in a microsecond the moment you aren't looking at them, weeping angel style. There's a thing called the ghost girl that I have yet to see but is apparently one of the most terrifying critters in the menagerie. Forest giants. If you know, you know.

All these little mechanics, these choices that are made by and for the player, create a maelstrom of unpredictable chaos that, like a buxom blond transforming into an orgasming pooltoy, turns what would be strictly serious horror into a unique form of dark comedy that layers over it like jelly on peanut butter. You are scared, you are on edge, and it only gets worse when you know what these things are capable of, but the sheer hopelessness is something you all have in common. It's funny how little hope you have. You will die. A monster will wipe your team. There will eventually come a quota you can't beat. You were doomed from the start.

So why not get silly with it? Why not try to fight that bracken with shovel? Fuck him. Why not just run past a turret and try to nab that fat jar of pickles? Why not wander off from the group? You're just as likely to come back with arms loaded and the quota met as you are likely to not come back at all. You're already dead, so take the gamble, do stupid shit, repeat this hell until you can meet its horrors with grim determination and put in the effort to afford that goddamn boombox. Dance. Just press 1 and dance the fear away.

You are all united in your mortality and duty, fragile sacks of flesh working to break even at the behest of perhaps the greatest horror of all: The company you work for. You are so preposterously fucked beyond all belief from every angle there really isn't enough adjectives to describe it. And that's comedy baby, when things are so bad all you can do is laugh.

[orientarla]

あなたについて私が嫌いな10のこと ᭢᭱✿

[team-avia]

"Who do you think you are, running around leaving scars, collecting your jar of hearts, tearing love apart"

[jesterjaxx]

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

As a treat

[ind1c0lite]

The present

[i6gyu]

⠀⠀⠀⠀`🫂 ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹. ☆ sunny day 🎧💭 ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹.

[crowlines]

Kitty cat stickers! ^^ Hello Tumblr my old friend ❤️

[serendipity-in-love]

10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

[pocketdaan]

[jaskierx]

hey sorry your boyfriend’s name was pulled in the october 1982 labor lottery. yeah he’s been assigned to the grestin border checkpoint. we’ll provide a class 8 dwelling in east grestin. glory to arstotzka

[andreablog2]

This is some full on echo park craft fair glamor which I adore.

[capncococharms]

Twitter is down and I need that stupid site to promote my shop this weekend.

Well Tumblr, today is your lucky day because everything is 10% off in my store!

I sell stickers, pins and an acrylic standee! Buy my stuff now at http://popnpak.net!!!

[devsgames]

The first lesson any burgeoning Level Designer learns is usually that the natural intuition most level designer has is to pace your levels to be way too small for the average user.

Your first attempt at a blockout is almost always without fail going to put everything too close together, information overload your user, and/or make you realize you generally need to break your spaces up or obscure the information within them. I'd guess that roughly 80% of the levels I see made by new designers are way too condensed because the designer hasn't been able to imagine the pacing from a player's perspective.

[i6gyu]

(yvesthoughts.what? 👤• ): womans!!!!!!!! 😸

[hanasnx]

she’s a good girl.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: daddy kink use of the word “dad” | no foreplay | sexual content | fem reader.

“Can you pass me that ratchet, sweets?” KEVIN LEVIN asks, pointing vaguely in the direction of his tool box which is haphazardly disarrayed in a mess on the floor. You set your drink down—the one he bought you as penance so you’d stay out of his way while he worked—and creep over, carefully toeing over his propped up legs. If he pulled out from under the car now he’d see up your skirt.

“Sure thing, Dad.” you respond without thinking anything of it, bending over to reach into the toolkit. A loud bang makes you jump out of your skin, a full body prickle travels up your spine as he loudly curses. He kicks out, his foot connecting with the box to send it sliding, careening the garage door with a clatter. You watch it with wide, curious eyes. Before you get a chance to chase it, Kevin rolls out from under the car with a scowl on his severe expression and clutching his hand.

“What’d you just—“ he begins in an angry seethe, pained from whatever accident was inflicted on his greased hand. However, that glare in his face melts, taken aback by the view as you sheepishly stand over him like a deer-in-headlights. A light pink dusts the crest of his cheeks as he closes his mouth promptly, swallowing hard at the sight of your backside on display for him. Suddenly, he doesn’t care so much about the throb in his hand, and he certainly forgets your odd nickname, the outline of your cunt in your little panties at the forefront of his mind.

Another thing this car is good for—besides constantly breaking down without his gentle and loving maintenance—is how a pretty body looks on the hood. It takes no time at all before he’s thrown you on it, cooping you up there like a pin-up girl while he hastily unbuckles his pants. The mere sound of it dampens you, and you watch with bated breath and eager interest.

“You ready for me, baby? Didn’t wash my hands.” He glances at you, manhandling you into a closer position while the head of his cock nudges at the wet fabric over your pussy.

“Mm-hm, Dad, I am.” you reply without hesitation, clinging onto his arm as he keeps you up on the hood, your legs folded up on either side of you.

In the middle of those filthy fingers deftly pulling your panties to the side, his gaze meets yours deliberately with a couple spacey blinks. He shrugs it off. “You call me the weirdest shit.” Yanking the elastic aside, he strokes at your folds with his tip, and you whimper at the glimpse of pleasure. Getting fucked on his car is usually pretty rough, but nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to how he pins you down and fucks your brains out, big hands shoved under your backside to bring you into his harsh pace. All the while he’s breathlessly coaxing you in your ear, “What’d you call me again? Say that shit again… Wanna hear it… Gets you so fucking wet, you’re a fuckin’ freak, you know that?”