#the console wasn't plugged in

[clairestrogen]

So i was tinkering with the Ameprod TVG-10 pong console i got, and was curious to test out if any of my AY-3-8500 chips are working, as the original one in the console started to malfunction (the score part of the picture lost started going shaking around the screen, like it lost it's synchronisation).

So it turns out that, all other 2 AY-3-8500 chips that i have bought (because of an earlier repair attempt) are all in working condition:33 (which means money was spent unnecessarily).

And i was curious to test out the original AY chip that was in the first Pong console that i bought (Universum TV Multispiel 2010, the one that looks like a tv pilot/phone, and is basically a clone of Radio Shack TV scoreboard without lightgun capability), and OMG it also works!!

And so (for now) i have only 1 faulty AY-3-8500 chip

(I assume produced in 5th week of 1983)

This would have been an expensive repair in Poland at the time, as these could only be bought via foreign currency (idk how to translate dewiza to English).

In 1980, Elwro (which was the company responsible for producing computers/calculators/precision electronics), bought around 10k IC's from General Instruments, and around this many consoles were produced.

After the supply of bought IC's ran out, Elwro reached out to Ameprod (which was a Polish company functioning in the USA, and mainly imported western commodities to Poland), and after some adjusting to Polish laws about trading (both companies had to do work with producing each unit of the console, so for example the case and main board was manufactured in Poland, then was sent to Ameprod which soldered and screwed it all together), the production lasted all the way till end of 1983, with 100k units produced total.

It was the first and only mass produced (as there small test runs of other video game consoles previously, even back in 1977) polish video game console.

It's easy to say that it was many people's first ever encounter with a video game (or even the possibility of being able to control the picture on the screen i suppose), as then almost no one owned a home computer, and that really haven't changed until the mid-to-late 80's (in Poland).

[peggycatrerr]

i genuinely do not know how this game’s script got greenlit

[books-and-catears]

I need to cry, my suicide tendencies are at there peak, can you help me with something with the Obey me brothers?

Like please I want to cry my eyes out

Okay hon, you really need to talk to someone about this okay? Please make sure you're not alone. I'm so sorry this is happening to you. I don't know what's wrong but things always get better...You will get through this. Again please talk to someone and don't isolate yourself okay?

It's been a while since I've received this ask, I apologise deeply for the delay, and I sincerely hope you're feeling better now.

TW: Suicide ideation

Cry Your Heart Out

Lucifer doesn't like the way your eyes look as you sit in on another RAD council meeting. Your mind is far, far away. Like you don't want to be here. He ended the meeting early so you could go home. But you look the same.

"MC." He knocks on your door after dinner. You open the door. Somehow your eyes look worse. His gut screams at him to not leave you alone.

"I feel particularly tired today. Would you like to listen to some music with me?" He asks. You shrug and say, "Sure." You almost seem like you're on autopilot.

He takes you by the hand and leads you down. The music has a strange melancholy that stung your heart. Like it understood you. Like it was screaming your misery out loud. You didn't know when your face flushed red, steaming tears falling off your cheeks. In the next second, you're buried in his chest.

"I- I can't-"

"You don't have to say anything. Just stay here for as long as you want."

❄️

Mammon didn't like the way you were avoiding him. It's not like you were ignoring him, but you seemed so distant. So...disheartened. Why? He couldn't even bring himself to ask.

There was something he dreaded deeply about the answer. Because he'd seen a semblance of those eyes before and it never ended well. And the long rope just resting on your desk brought forth more worry.

"Oi Lucifer, I have a favor to ask." He muttered into his phone. That day, after school, you found him hanging upside down from the ceiling in your room.

"Mammon what-"

"What's wrong with ya lately?"

"Me? I'm fine-"

"I can't get down unless you tell me the truth. These ropes are enchanted and everything! So if you want me out of here, you better spill okay?!"

Why do you care? The question died in your throat. And you spilled tears before words. He was down in seconds, cooing in shock and distress. "Oi, I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

But you held on tight to his jacket. He cared. That was all you needed really.

❄️

Leviathan was sitting straighter than usual as you entered his room. Alert and eager. You almost felt bad coming all the way to his room to tell him you don't feel like gaming today. But the console wasn't even plugged.

"Hey Levi-"

"Don't do it. Don't you think about it!" He sounds around. He was trembling, on the brink of crying.

"O-okay I won't say no to gaming with you I'm sorry I didn't know-" You bent down to his level. He caught you offguard, throwing his arms around you.

"You're thinking of leaving again, aren't you?" Levi's voice cracked, muffled in your shoulder. "You're thinking of going away and never coming back."

"Wait...Levi, when did I even say-"

"I thought you were just spending less time with me, I just assumed you finally got tired of me. But then you weren't with my brothers either... you're tired of ALL OF US."

You were tired of yourself, you wanted to reassure him. But he wasn't going to stop wailing anytime soon. In your heart you were just a little bit glad to have someone want you.

"Please don't go... we'll be better. I'll be better. I'll be even better than my brothers! I'll try my best to be! So don't you dare thinking of going anywhere!"

❄️

Satan seemed to be extra wary of you during all the magical classes. Potions, Charms, Curses and hexes - everywhere the demon of Wrath followed even tricking teachers if he needed to.

"I'm not trying skip my classes or anything, Satan." You said one day, turning to look at him. It was the last class of the day and everyone had left the room except the two of you.

"What I'm worried about is much worse than that and you know it, MC. Now let's go home."

He reaches out his hand. You don't take it, just sighing and glancing at the potion on your desk.

"Everyday I wake up hoping that all these bad feelings were a nightmare. But every morning, it's real. I'm tired."

"What is it that worries you so?" He leans down to cup your face, turning your eyes to meet his earnest ones.

"It's a human problem."

"I don't need to be human to understand your pains. Just give it a chance, won't you?"

You left the classroom holding his hand, the vial of the Sleeping Draught potion you'd concocted lay smashed, a mess on the floor. Satan apologized for his clumsiness.

❄️

Asmodeus had the unfortunate timing to barge in the middle of your breakdown. He gasped and fell to the ground watchin you curled up in bed with your eyes red and puffed up.

Immediately on his knees he crawls towards you, his gentle touch nudging you back to some resemblance of reality. "Darling..."

"I'm fine. Just need some more rest." You shook your head and tried to brave a smile. "Need to be alone and relax a bit."

"Oh MC, if it's relaxation you want, there's noone but me that can provide you the best!" He promptly tucked you in the sheets with him.

"Asmo I don't need-"

"Shhh! Give me a chance, won't you? If you don't like within 10 minutes, I'll leave you alone."

You closed your eyes and sighed, wanting to get over it. But then Asmo's fingers ran through your hair, soft and cool, gentle and slow. For once, all the horrible voices in your head fell asleep before you did.

"How do you feel MC?" He coos as he brushes some hair off your forehead. You only murmur in hia name in response, he chuckles and pulls you closer. His heart beats easier seeing you at peace.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I The Asshole for not plugging a console in when returning it?

A more low stakes aita, but curious what other people might think.

So I (fem presenting 24) borrowed the family wii u from my dad (m~47) a couple weeks ago to play on the splatoon servers before they went down. I ended up slacking on getting it back and just returned it yesterday on April 20th. My dad is self employed and tends to stay up late and gets up even later. Due to a bunch circumstances I realized I would have time to drop it off the night before. I ended up forgetting to text my dad that I would be coming over, but texted him in the morning (8:45am) so I could know when he got up. I tried putting off going till as late as I could (doing all my errands first including picking up groceries) but he still hadn't texted back. It was just after noon when I got over. Since my sister answered the door I ended up up just dropping off the wii u, chatting a bit, seeing if some Tupperware I ended was clean (it wasn't, not worried about it) and heading out since I had cold food (my dad was indeed asleep).

I have a 30 minute drive home, so by the time I got home I got a text from my dad (12:45) asking I dropped it off. I told him I did and he replied with ":( well thanks for returning it"

After I got to bed he texts back "Want this wii u hooked up when you borrowed it?" Which meant nothing to me. I try to text back a couple times trying to get some clarification, but he still hasn't answered. I asked my sister if she knew what he was talking about, and she said he was saying it was rude of me not to plug the system back in when I returned it.

I will say I really don't like visiting my dad since he's very much a shut in conservative while I'm v much visibly queer. I don't agree with many of his beliefs and find many of them hurtful. I could go into more detail, but this is just to say our relationship is v strained.

Personally, plugging a consol takes a couple minutes and I didn't think it would be a big enough deal to message me about it. Granted, it was plugged in when I asked to borrow it, and I ended up grabbing everything myself. But idk, am I the asshole for notplugging the console back in?

[inactivewattpadauthor]

Raiden x Reader: Plasma Ball

~~~~~~~~~~~~ The clock on the coffee table to your side read in bright red 5:13 p.m, and all you could hear outside is the light showering of rain.

That wasn't what stopped you from perhaps ordering a delivery, but maybe because you're aware of it being a frequent habit you spend money on, and rent was about due soon.

Resting your arm on the edge of your leather couch and placing your chin on your palm, you just looked around your living room, thinking of what to do to alleviate the burning boredom in your mind.

Television was of course an option, but there isn't any interesting show you could watch and you were procrastinating to catch up on the anime, overwhelmed how far you were behind with the six hundred episodes you at least had left. Shit, maybe more, the show never ended yet.  (Damnit, Oda.)

Eyes lowering to the game console below the TV, you thought about it, but that was also a no-go. Games aren't that fun anymore, especially if your internet pals got lives as well.

Last but not least, the bookshelf next to the TV stand. Immediate no.

But thinking of books, you looked to your right looking at your godly partner, his attention completely confiscated by the huge novel in his hands.

You couldn't help but gaze at his face, zoning out in thought. One could say you're admiring him. Though he wasn't a man of fun, you could interact with him and enjoy yourself.

Letting out a sigh, you waited for him to look at you and speak up. But the only movement from him was just him turning a page in the book. So, you tried again with a more forced one.

Yet, there was still no response from him, his faded eyes locked in the story. And you know he heard that one too.

"Raiden!" You yell, disliking not getting his attention.

"What is it, Y/n?" The Thunder Lord questions, not even looking at you.

Moving your body against his larger one, your head rubbing against his shoulder, you answered honestly with a soft utter. "I'm bored."

"Read a book." Was all he said, which makes you more frustrated. You groan and clung onto him more. "Pleaseee, why are you so boring?"

Raiden raises an eyebrow at you for a millisecond before going back to reading. "I'm not an entertainer."

You backed off a bit and thought what you could do to mess with him for a bit, and you got a good idea. A funny one that already made you snicker.

"Wait, I'll be right back!" Raiden looked at you confused, wondering what you thought was funny, or more so, what you were planning.

Jumping off the couch, you ran to your closet to dig for an item that you haven't seen in years.

The long white-haired man could hear you shuffling things around, items crashing on the floor, making you swear from your clumsiness. It didn't take too long for you to find the object you looked for, though.

Running back to the living room with a smile, Raiden sees you carrying some weird glass ball stuck to a small black stand. He could classify that it was something relevant to technology, as a black wired plug trailed behind you.

Carefully bending down to plug the device in beside the couch where he sits,  you chuckle and turn the device on, the center globe inside the glass glowing pink.

"Watch this." You smile and set the ball on the table before using your fingers to touch it, causing bright static lines to appear beneath the pads of your fingers.

Raiden watched with a blank look. Nevertheless, he was somewhat intrigued.

"I'm like you!" Your corny comment makes him give the typical unimpressed old man look on his face.

Another silly idea grew into your head and you looked at the switched-off lamp. You grabbed the shade off it before going back to the plasma ball, putting the shade on your head and touching the device again. It would seem Raiden knew where you were going with this.

Smirking with the conical pretended hat, you mimicked with a deep voice, "I mUsT cOnSuLt WiTh ThE eLdEr GoDs!"

After that, you just couldn't keep a straight face and burst with laughter. Laughing hard enough, you were snorting and not even making regular laughing noises, which makes yourself even more amused.

Raiden, on the other hand, got enough of your shit real quick and swiftly stood from the couch to remove the lampshade off your head. With one finger, he uses his power to send a brief shock to you, which makes your hair stand up and frizzy.

You shut up and stared at him with a taken aback look.

It was all in great fun. ~~~~~~~~~~~~

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Suletta and your pick of T-Dolls with a mechanic S/O who uses “percussive maintenance” to great effect.

Just….

BONK

and the machine is working fine.

(They also have a favorite wrench to perform this maintenance with)

(MSG: The Witch from Mercury/GFL) Suletta, Angelia, G36, and RPK-16's Mechanic S/O hitting things with a wrench to 'fix it'

(For Suletta, it'll just be platonic to feel more authentic to the show!)

Suletta watched (Y/N) repair Chuchu's Demi-Trainer without too much effort, simply calibrating it so that it would respond better.

(Chuchu) "Oi, Suletta, (Y/N)! How's the legs?"

(Suletta) "A-Ah, still working on the wiring, it'll be ready to move in a second!"

Suletta stared at the wiring and furrowed her brows, trying to find what exactly was causing the issue.

She had some knowledge on how Mobile Suits were repaired, but nothing to this extent. At least, anything that wasn't Aerial.

Aerial was at least helping with the repairs too a good chunk of the time.

(Y/N) scratched their chin as their finger tapped against the wrench, slowly lowering the lift back onto the hangar floors.

(Suletta) "You weren't able to find anything either? It should be working fine, but I haven't noticed anything."

(Y/N) "Nothing I could see with my eyes. But don't worry, Suletta, I know the perfect trick!"

(Chuchu) "Hey! If you put a dent onto my trainer, I'll be denting your skull!"

(Y/N) "Oh come on, you know it always works!"

(Suletta) "U-Um, what is she talking about?"

(Y/N) "Behold, my family technique, Suletta!"

Suletta opened her mouth in slight awe, ready to see what (Y/N) had up their sleeve.

Only for them to violently smack the foot of the Demi-Trainer, a loud clang echoing throughout all of Earth House.

Suletta leapt back in terror, stammering as she shook (Y/N).

(Suletta) "Y-Y-YOU JUST HIT HER MOBILE SUIT! WHY?!"

(Y/N) raised a finger and looked back at the cockpit.

(Y/N) "Chuchu?"

The leg of the Demi-Trainer moved without any issue.

(Chuchu) "...I resent that stupid trick works."

(Y/N) "Ah, but it still works, doesn't it?"

(Suletta) "...B-But how?"

(Angelia) "Console still not working?"

(Commander) "Yeah, won't turn on no matter what I tried. Plugging it back in and out, that sorta thing."

(Angelia) "Hm. Some budget they gave us. Well don't worry, I can call S/O."

(Commander) "Huh. I figured you'd call one of the T-Dolls for that."

(Angelia) "Nah, S/O's got this. Trust me."

S/O came into the briefing room with a single wrench, saluting both Angelia and the Commander.

(Angelia) "Computer's not turning on, mind fixing it for us?"

(S/O) "Got it, Ange."

S/O walked over to the computer's power, slowly raised their wrench before violently slamming the head onto the top of it.

The Commander flinched, but Angelia stood there, perfectly stonefaced.

And right on cue, the monitor turned back on.

(Angelia) "Thanks."

(S/O) "Anytime!"

S/O moved to give her a peck on the cheek before her own robotic hand hit their head, though the impact was not as violent.

(Angelia) "Not during work."

The Commander simply stood there, flabbergasted that damaging his system made it work.

(Commander) "...Whatever, as long as that doesn't break the damn thing and have Helian yell at me for it."

G36 scowl seems to not move as she stares at the coffee machine.

(Springfield) "Oh, right! I forgot to tell you, G36. The machine is broken right now, I had called for someone to come fix it. They should be arriving-"

(S/O) "Apologies for the delay, I was caught up in another repair...Oh, G36!"

G36 smiled at the sound of S/O's voice, stepping aside to make room.

(G36) "Ah, I think this is the first time we're both in the same area while we're on the clock."

(Springfield) "S/O, our coffee machine has decided to stop working since last night. Mind helping us?"

(S/O) "Sure thing, step back, love."

G36 nodded and made no acknowledgement of S/O's pet name since it was just her and Springfield in the room.

And S/O reached into the bag, pulled out a wrench and-

THUD!

S/O had smacked the side of it, which both T-Dolls heard a beep of acknowledgement, the machine ready to produce coffee once more.

(G36) "...S/O, that does not seem like it is an efficient way to repair things."

(S/O) "It works though, you should try it out too!"

(G36) "S/O, we would break the machine we are attempting to fix if I were to employ your methods."

16 had not called S/O to fix anything, instead she happened to come across them as she was strolling back to her dorm.

It was in the middle of the base hallways, finding S/O repairing a vending machine.

(RPK-16) Huh. When were these here, and why are there even vending machines to begin with? This is a military base, not a mall...-

She thought to herself.

But instead of saying anything to S/O, she decided to observe.

S/O was pressing a myriad of buttons to no avail, their frustration growing as they let out an exhale through their nose.

It amused 16 to watch S/O go about their business. So this is what they were like when she wasn't present.

She then watched them reach into a bag and smack a wrench straight into the middle of the vending machine.

And finally, it relinquished a singular can of soda that rolled out to the bottom.

S/O made a small fist bump, obviously proud of their accomplishment. They twirled their wrench onto their belt and walked off.

16 raised an eyebrow and pressed a button after they left, watching as the machine produced a drink without fail.

(RPK-16) "...So, humans resort to violence when something does not go their way? I suppose that's on track from the data I've gathered so far."

She let out a small giggle, thinking of how S/O looked during the process. This was quite interesting.

Doubly so since S/O was a mechanic and they knew that's not how you'd repair things normally.

(RPK-16) "Note to self, do not ask S/O to do repairs on me."

[elementaskylos345]

Dread Within the Cabin

An Island of the Slaughtered fanfic

In an effort to seek temporary sanctuary from the torment of Wawanakwa Island and its restless and angered spirits, Chris McLean falls head first out of the kettle and into the fire.

|TW| firearms, disassociation |TW|

Chris slammed the door behind him, breathing heavily as he backed away from the door, eventually bumping into a workbench and leaning on it. His eyes flicked to look towards the busted window - wisps of thin light crept around the side closest to the door. All then fell silent.

The light then faded, leaving Chris alone. After at least a minute he finally let go of the breath he was holding, lightheadedness swimming in his skull.

“Fucking hell…” He murmured as he fell to the floor. He groaned and shifted himself, resting his arms on his knees, staring at the ground. His face was dirty, bruised, and cut while his hair was rugged and unkempt. He'd spent… two or so days lost and unable to find his team. Even where he knew they'd be, they weren't there. It's as if the island itself was keeping him away, tormenting him with spirits.

He left them here with a killer, he knew he did, but he was coming to save them now. Doing the right thing in the end is what matters, right? Like living a life of sin but turning to Christ - God will forgive.

He let out a stressed laugh. Then a chuckle. And then more laughter.

Chris didn't believe in God. But he was still right by coming here and rescuing the remaining teenagers. Hell, maybe after they all get through this he could do some interviews and finally get eyes back on him-

Chris jolted as a TV in the corner flicked on. Its screen was cracked and bloodied… as well as the cart it sat upon. He squinted as he slowly stood up and inspected it from afar, not daring to get any closer. It wasn't just blood that was on the TV there also seemed to be… hair… maybe a bit of flesh… on the corner. Chris felt sick to his stomach.

Death was all over this island now yet he hadn't grown numb to it. Maybe it was the constant terror, maybe it was his mind still not being caught up.

Through the static Chris saw… something. A face maybe? Glasses? He couldn't quite tell, not at this distance. The screen then turned off before flicking back on again. He tilted his head in confused suspicion, taking in the now clear image. It was an image familiar to him. A hint of nostalgia surrounding days in the arcade came to mind.

The familiar green vector graphics on that black background with the angular text. Battlezone. He'd spent far too long in the arcade playing this - it was very impressive back then. He snapped back to reality and to the fear he should be feeling. Chris squinted his eyes and slowly approached before stopping, looking out the window… he felt the need to block that off… he just felt eyes on him from over there. Be it Beth or Justin he didn't care either way he didn't want anyone looking at him without his knowledge.

So Chris took a few minutes to crudely cover the window with a nearby tarp, using a few nails quietly hammered into place to keep it up. It wouldn't last but it would do. As he stepped off of the ladder he nearly had a heart attack when he noticed the cart and TV had moved to be next to him. The ladder clattered to the floor in response to him practically jumping off of it. He took a moment to breathe, staring at the ominous mechanical box before him. The days old blood that lined the left side of the TV and pooled at its base made him uneasy.

Chris huffed as he finally gathered himself, more closely inspecting the TV while still not daring to lay a hand on it or the cart. The first thing he noticed was the atari controller sat gently on top of the box TV, inviting him to pick it up and begin playing. His eyes followed the cable downwards to the atari console. Then the consol plugged into the TV. All was well so far.

But the TV wasn't plugged in. It didn't have a cord to plug with and this shack currently had no power.

Chris shuddered at the realization. As if the situation couldn't get more supernatural. His eyes fell onto the controller and how it beckoned for him. It insisted. It was for him. He nearly picked it up… but hesitated. If he's going to be distracted he needs to be able to defend himself… that's partially why he came here in the first place - to arm himself.

So he left the TV and moved back over to the workbench. There were what you'd expect - hammers, saws, screwdrivers, the like… but there were also a few firearms. Hunting rifles and a shotgun. Damn. He'd forgotten to move them into his home before filming… or maybe this was one of the restricted shacks used for set building and such? It didn't matter now and he didn't care to remember. He just picked up a crowbar and walked back over to the TV to grab the controller.

…

“What am I doing?” He asked himself before stepping away. Yeah, what WAS he doing? He huffed. “Playing a clearly haunted game on an island full of ghosts that want to kill you, good job McLean.” he scolded himself before turning his back to the box and moving to the door.

The moment he laid his hand on the handle a sheer noise erupted from behind him, like the dying wails of a beast put through so many filters it came out like garbled static. He whipped around and swung the crowbar, wracking the TV right on its side with a resounding thud. He stared at the TV and the TV stared back, a faint static hum in the air. Sweat rolled down Chris’ brow as he swallowed the lump in his throat - he could swear he saw eyes behind those pixels.

He then noticed the missing controller. He eyed the surrounding area before realizing that the controller was at his feet… this spirit was no longer asking but demanding. He stared into the vector graphics for a moment before finally nodding in agreement.

“Alright… alright… I'll play.”

He shakily picked up the controller before gently pushing the cart back about a foot so he could sit with his back against the door and still see the screen. He was below the TV screen but he had no idea how long he'd be kept here so he might as well get comfortable. He laid the crowbar across his lap and pressed the button on the controller, starting the game of Battlezone.

Chris immediately noticed that the environment was off. A scene of distant mountains and green squares and triangles as obstacles was no more. The background was all but gone and the obstacles now resembled infinitely tall rectangles. Immediately the hair on the back of his neck rose but he nonetheless familiarized himself with the controls.

Not only had it been several decades since he last played but he was used to the arcade cabinet and not the atari version. The arcade cabinet had two joysticks that controlled the two treads of the tank the player drove, using the position of the two joysticks to determine how the tank moved. All that was now condensed into one joystick.

You'd think that would make it easier but all the skill he built up all those years ago was severely hampered. He turned his attention to the top left to see where the enemy tank would be.

[Enemy is to th rigleft]

[Enemy in rangeft]

[Enemy is to the lefange]

[Enemy ]

That was very helpful. His eyes went back to the battleground. He began to scan the area to his left, deciding that maybe the word left showing up in most of the messages might’ve meant something. The background scrolled as he turned, revealing more of the nothing and nonsensical line placements. He also saw more infinitely tall rectangles… but no enemy tank. He also didn't hear any missiles coming. So he continued spinning.

The radar feed in the top left continued to spit out nonsensical garbage as he turned. As he spun around to the right he could finally see some geometry that made sense - a large mountain off in the distance, much like the one on Wawanakwa. He'd now scanned the entire area and still didn't see the enemy tank and his nerves were at a fever pitch. He took a moment to look at his surroundings to see if perhaps all of this was a distraction.

Then he heard the sound of something firing in the game. He jolted and began reversing and his eyes snapped back to the screen, hoping he was being shot from the side. He witnessed the bullet whiz, by the front of his tank. He sucked in some air and began to strafe to the left - where the bullet came from. More bullets flew past the front of his tank. As he continued to strafe he began to dread more and more what the enemy tank might look like, unable to tell if horrifying vector graphics would look better than… whatever else might show up here.

It was a slow process but he eventually moved backwards enough to see the enemy at the left side of his screen. It was a lot tamer than he was expecting as it was just a corrupted tank model. That being said, considering how simple the graphics are this felt like an abomination from hell.

Nonetheless he was still in a terrible position. Like first person shooters after it, in Battlezone you can only fire from the center of the screen. The enemy was to the left. Not good.

Thankfully, he hadn't fired once in this whole process and there's a firing delay, about half a second. It'd be tight but he might be able to turn the tank after the enemy fired and hit it before it can shoot him. It's far more likely he'd die but it was worth a shot. He then backed into an obstacle and died. He blinked. He forgot that could happen.

Once he respawned he turned to the right and saw the corrupted enemy model. He made sure there were no obstacles in the way before lining up the shot and fired. However, the enemy moved out of the way. He hummed and moved forward to make chase. Now that he was in the prime position he was able to close the distance and destroy the enemy, causing the enemy “tank” to explode into corrupted vector chunks.

With his death and the death of the enemy tank leading to no horror brought him some comfort. A small part of him considered that maybe this spirit just really wanted to play some Battlezone. So, the back and forth continued. Playing against an intelligent being was certainly very different from playing against ai. There was even a moment of peace where the two of them “danced” by driving forward and reversing rapidly before continuing the battle. It was… nice.

After constant torment this moment of peace and, honestly, fun was refreshing. He'd almost forgotten the danger he was in, the nostalgia and newfound comfort in the game lulling Chris’ anxieties.

Honestly, after a while, he was convinced that this spirit - who he figured was probably Harold - just wanted someone to play with. It was so strangely wholesome… though, he should probably leave soon. He'd lost track of the time and still had to find out how to get back to his crew.

But he just couldn't pull himself away from the game, enthralled by the activity, he and Harold now trying to see if they can shoot each other's projectiles.

Shoot

Shoot

The image of one of the hunting rifles popped into his mind, almost as if he was looking at it at that moment. He blinked, a fuzzy feeling filling his mind, causing him to lift his thumb off of the controller and stop all movement in game. He groaned and rubbed his eyes… his hands felt full… like a weight was in them. He looked down at the controller then past the TV to the dark environment around him. It suddenly didn't feel real.

He rubbed his eyes again and shook his head, fully dropping the atari controller. What the hell was going on? He felt detached from himself and from the things around him, like he was floating in a void. He looked back to the screen only to be met with the barrel of the enemy tank, his eyes half lidded and confused. He waited for the tank to shoot.

Shoot

Shoot

Chris blinked into awareness, his body once again feeling like his own. He was standing in front of the workbench, staring at the ceiling. He furrowed his brow and looked around to catch his bearings. Everything was as he left it - tarp on the window, tools displaced from his rummaging, haunted TV in front of the door to the outside… but one of the hunting rifles was missing. He looked down at his hands, quickly dropping what was held within them.

Well, he found the rifle. He was holding it to himself, clearly with harmful intentions. Chris just stood there for a moment to catch his breath. How close was he to death just now? Was Harold just toying with him?

After a moment he steeled his gaze with a huff before turning to leave. He grabbed the cart with the TV and thrust it aside, just barely throwing the TV to the ground. Turns out he'd lost at some point while he was hallucinating. Chris waved his hand dismissively towards the box and picked up the crowbar before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

As he left he reminded himself that he was doing the right thing. He was saving who was left. The police were here combing the island for the killer. This anger was justified - maybe - but his conscience would be clear. These spirits would NOT kill him.

They would NOT be the end of him.

He refused to die on this island.

[moonlight-tmd]

Hi! I just want to say that your headcanon and aus are so cool! I love reading every one of them! I'm really glad i saw your blog, because my favorite character is bumblebee and blitzbee is one of my otp.

The idea that bee is more than what his team think he is really excites me (like your celestial, electro, spark-eater, and warframe bumblebee aus), because i can read bee being a badass or have some hidden trauma.

I do wonder if electro bee have any side effect with his power?

I hope you are doing well! :)

Thank you so much!

I do enjoy giving Bee more than they expect him to handle- which he handles just fine in secret. The thrill of hidden danger is too good. And yes, angst is the best.

As for electro Bee- as I mentioned in earlier posts about it, he gets his power via EM field or touch, that's why he likes being in the city- it makes him more energetic than if he was in the forest.

He can drain of electric energy anything that has it- machinery and mechs alike. He wasn't aware he was doing it until Ratchet pointed it out to him after her handed him a tool with full battery and it shortly died after Bee gave it back. Guess that's why mechs always seemed tired when he hung around for too long.

He also gets hyper during thunderstorms. You can't get him to sit still at all.

For the "bad side effects"- before he had his stingers he was struggling to keep his ability under control- he still does sometimes, if he's holding in too much emotion his static charge will rise and make electric arches across his frame and to nearby things that conduct electricity. He accidentally zapped his teammates few times when they were arguing, they try to do less yelling and more reasoning in behavior so Bee won't get too mad and get the point across.

Since Bee's circuitry is fucked enough to not make him take shock damage I imagine he wouldn't notice if he has high static charge, he's just go about his business and it often ends up in his frying something/someone's circuit if it/they are too close. Ratchet has started checking his EM field everytime Bee comes back from somewhere so they won't get hurt nor something gets broken.

A funny one- Bee is essentially a walking battery. He has a lot of energy stored for such small size, if need be his teammates will sit him down plug those weird car battery clippers to his horns and make him the backup power supply for the plant. He often just plays games on his pocket console while sitting near the braker box all upset, Optimus always gives him baked sweets to make up for these situations.

That's all I can come up with for now, thank you for the ask! And ye, I'm a lil iffy from all the shit blooming rn but I'll be fine! Have a good one yourself!

[bridgertonbabe]

I hope you can answer this question,

How would the family group chat pop off when Araminta suffers an unfortunate accident?

BSSG Group Chat

Michael: Hey @ Sophie Franny's just told me after Greg told her that Hy told him that Daph told her that El told her that Ben told her that Arabitcha's in hospital? Is it true? 👀

Gareth: please be true 🙏

Gareth: even if it's a sprained ankle or something weak like that

Simon: Yeah so long as she's suffering ✨✨✨

Phillip: Last El heard they're still at the hospital with Posy and Hugh

Lucy: omg she went to the hospital????

Kate: Only for moral support for Posy!

Kate: No way in hell would she be there otherwise.

Penelope: Yeah Ben wouldn't let her step one foot in that hospital if it wasn't for the purposes of being there for Posy.

Gareth: well maybe with ben being there her life support could be "accidentally" pulled out

Simon: Yeah or her LVAD wire being cut.

Gareth: the fuck's an lvad wire?

Simon: You've never watched Greys Anatomy?

Gareth: you watch greys anatomy?

Simon: Daph watches it and tells me all about it.

Michael: Oh really? Is that so?

Michael: Because I definitely seem to recall you having an in-depth discussion with Franny about the show.

Lucy: yeah I remember that!!!!!!

Simon: ...

Simon: Ok fine! Daph got me into it, I didn't want to like it, then I convinced myself I liked it ironically, but now I guess I have to accept that I actually like it unironically. You happy now?

Michael:

Gareth:

Penelope: 🤭

Kate: 😂😂😂

Simon: fuck off @ Gareth don't act like Hy doesn't make you sit and watch drag race with her

Gareth:

Phillip: If it's any consolation I willingly watch Love Island with El

Phillip: There's something so endlessly fascinating about good looking people having to actually make an effort with each other when they're all used to being the ones being pursued in the real world.

Kate: Hang on Eloise watches Love Island?!?!

Kate: I could have sworn she said she hates dating shows like that

Penelope: She very much does but it doesn't stop her from watching them obsessively

Phillip: I could lie and say she hate-watches them or even watches them unironically but deep down she loves them.

Penelope: Very much so

Penelope: But she will absolutely deny it if you bring it up so don't bother

Kate: Believe me I wouldn't dare raise any subject with Eloise that could result in her vehemently getting defensive for 10+ minutes

Phillip: That's fair

Michael: Well I watch Say Yes to the Dress - and I was the one who got Franny into it

Lucy:

Michael: Oh come on I don't mention it that often!

Phillip: Did you completely forget the time you invited us round for a boys night and made us watch back to back episodes of it and nothing else?

Simon: surely you must be aware that your love of Say Yes to the Dress is absolutely no secret whatsoever

Michael:

Sophie: Yeah you've sent me screenshots of dresses you think I might like if Ben and I were ever to renew our vows.

Kate: Same here! You even add suggestions for dresses for a vow renewal on the beach, in a rustic barn

Kate: Omg Sophie

Kate: What's happened?

Michael: What's Arabitcha in hospital for?

Gareth: please be something that inconveniences her the most 🙏

Penelope: yeah please let it be more than a sprained ankle 🤞

Simon: Wishing nothing but the worst for her 🙌

Sophie: Well

Sophie:

Lucy:

Phillip: Wa

Phillip: Wait fr?

Kate: Omfg are you serious

Michael: Say more now

Penelope: @ Sophie WHAT IS TAKING YOU SO LONG TO CONFIRM OR DENY

Simon: CONFIRM OR DENY

Gareth: sophie please istg

Sophie: She's seriously actually dead for real fr.

Gareth: and to think i was worried it would be a sprained ankle at best

Gareth:

Michael: Holy shit

Lucy: how did it happen???

Sophie: I just want to state for the record that Ben didn't pull her life support plug or cut her LVAD wire.

Kate: That's a shame for Ben, he'd have loved to have been given the opportunity.

Gareth: hy too

Sophie: She was actually being her absolutely lovely self and having a go at some poor shop assistant demanding to speak to their manager or whatever and she literally dropped down dead mid-rant.

Penelope: omg

Gareth: she really went

Gareth:

Phillip: So she died the way she lived

Kate: Being a bitch right to the very end

Simon: What I'd give to have been there to witness that

Michael: Maybe if there's CCTV in the shop we can ask the owners if they could be so very kind to send us the footage

Penelope: Is Posy ok? Obvs she was a bitch to her too but is she feeling any sort of way about it?

Sophie: When we were told she did start to cry but then we realised her sobs were actually laughter and she was hysterically cackling with relief and she said "well thank fuck for that"

Phillip: Oh I was the same when my dad died

Simon: Same just minus the tears

Lucy: And how are you feeling about it all @ Sophie ?

Sophie: I don't know really

Sophie: I sort of don't feel anything?

Sophie: Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet, like I haven't properly processed the fact she's actually gone, but yeah right now I'm just of sort like eh, you know?

Michael: I think that's to be expected.

Phillip: She put you through shit and was nothing but awful to you but because of who you are you've naturally always been the bigger person and taken the high road, you haven't let her diminish your self worth and you've gone on to live a wonderful life that she could only dream of having. Whether you process her death and feel any type of way about it or still feel eh, you're always going to be better than her in every possible way; so don't you dare feel bad about yourself for feeling any sort of relief or joy from her passing.

Michael: 👏👏👏

Kate: Exactly what he said ↑

Simon: And like Phil said, don't you dare for a second feel guilty for celebrating her death

Penelope: And even if you want to be the bigger person and not celebrate, we'll all celebrate on your behalf don't you worry

Sophie: I really appreciate it guys 🤗💖💖💖

Sophie: And if you'd all like to go ahead and send your celebratory reaction gifs and memes please be my guest x

Penelope:

Simon:

Phillip:

Kate:

Gareth:

Michael:

Lucy:

Gareth:

Penelope:

Gareth: hy's ecstatic btw

Gareth: and is claiming full responsibility

Gareth sent a photo

Lucy: omg is that voodoo doll????????

Penelope: Why am I not even remotely surprised

Gareth: according to her she threw it down hard on the floor a few hours ago

Gareth: and now that she's dead naturally hy believes it's all down to her

Kate: Just so long as she doesn't start making dolls for every single person who wrongs her or anyone in the family. We don't want her getting any ideas.

Gareth: yeah tell that to the doll she made of my dad and is currently slamming against the wall 💀

[chosos-mascara]

｡˚۰˚☽ K I N K T O B E R D A Y 16 ☽˚۰˚｡

Camboy - Giyu Tomioka

read part two here

cw: masturbation, exhibitionist Giyu, you're watching his content

When repairing Giyu's laptop, you stumble upon content he'd created for a particular website.

minors+ageless dni. 2.6k words

Attending university in Japan was difficult. Expectations were high from your family back home for you to excel, and being in a foreign country had meant you'd been at a disadvantage when it had come to accommodation. But, with a little luck, you'd found a listing on an exchange student site; a male in his early twenties needed help with rent and you'd needed a room - a simple anecdote that the pair of you'd managed to solve for the other.

Giyu had been the ideal flatmate. He was always quiet, reserved, and considerate to you. The pair of you didn't engage in conversation too often, only lighthearted small talk when you'd bumped into the other in the hall, or kitchen. Both of you being shy, yourself being new to the culture, it was a mutual routine. You'd been caught up in studies and the small part time job you'd had, getting back at different times throughout the day and missing the other. 

The male hadn't often ventured to knock on the door of your bedroom, or converse with you while you were in the confides of your own space, but the odd occasion had occurred where he'd found himself knocking at the white painted door, grasping around the handle and opening it to find you at your desk, re-watching a lecture from earlier in the day. The faint scent of the candle you'd been burning was now strong in his nose, your eyes tearing from the screen to see what he'd summoned himself for. 

The issue at hand had been his laptop. He couldn't figure out why, but the console had stopped charging, rendering it useless for his upcoming assignment. You'd laughed, telling him your speciality was software, but didn't decline his request to look at it anyway. He'd left it in the safety of your care, going back to reside in his own part of the home as you looked over the device. Understanding that it was likely there had just been a little dust in the compartment, you found a toothpick to pierce into the hole, low-and-behold some grey matts of debris sliding from the metal. You plugged the charger back in, opening the screen back up and pressing the power button. Thankfully, you were met with a booting screen, and once onto the desktop, the small signal in the left of the taskbar that had signalled to you that the laptop was now on charge, and working.

You placed a hand to rest behind the screen, moments from closing it, before you'd noticed chrome had been open. He'd probably been browsing when the laptop had died, so the window would still be open on whatever he'd left it on. It would probably be something boring; a google search or perhaps uni document, but curiosity teased you, and you gave in. The mouse hovered over the browser as you let go of your morality, clicking to see what the male had been indulging in before you'd inevitably hand it back over. 

Breath hitched in your throat, eyes widening as the screen changed, the well-known black background and orange text in the corner. He'd been on an adult website, an explicit range of imagery on the screen before you. You scrolled the profile he'd taken residence on - you were being a little intrusive, but you couldn't help but stick your nose where it shouldn't be, shocked when realising the profile had belonged to a male. Sexuality had crossed your mind previously, though you hadn't bothered to take much of a guess at what his preferences had been. 

You couldn't deny the male on the page had been attractive, thumbnails of the videos he'd uploaded exposing his pale skin and vascular arms, a thick cock gripped between long fingers in one image, toned torso covered in his own seed in another, all holding raunchy titles. They'd had a good amount of views, too.

It wasn't until you'd scrolled past the first five videos that you'd recognised the backdrop. A thumbnail being the increasingly familiar set of abs, black trousers set a little lower than hip level, the body stood before a screen of a shower. The same pane of glass and tiles you'd had in your home.

Frantically scrolling back up, you searched for the username of the profile, and that had been the confirmation you'd needed. Of course, he'd picked something that was obvious to those that would've known him. GTom. 

Giyu hadn't just been scrolling through videos to reach his climax, he'd been creating them. The realisation that you'd just seen not only your roommate's chest, but dick, and seed covering himself, hit, stomach dropping as you wondered how you'd be able to face him once more. There was a twinge of guilt among the emotions you'd been over-encumbered by, but you pushed it back as you closed the window, the laptop with it.

The worst part of the situation had been the fact that before you'd learned the account-holder's identity, your pussy had throbbed, hips shifting uncomfortably as you'd grown aroused over the sights on the screen, enjoying what you'd seen a little too much. 

Ignoring your racing mind, you stood, attempting to suppress the way your heart had been racing in your chest, or use the wetness your body was creating to indulge in the activities you'd just seen your roommate practice. Your feet worked to bring you to Giyu's doorway, the door itself already wide open with the expectation you'd be back to return the device to him once taking your time to aid him in the predicament. 

He was seated on his bed, open textbooks surrounding him with pen in hand, innocently scribbling notes onto the lined page before him, unaware to the fact he had just been exposed before you - through the joys of adult video. 

You cleared your throat, mouth opening to speak as your eyes fell to meet his hand, gripping at the stationary, instead remembering the same digits wrapped tightly around his cock. Unable to look him in the eye, your gaze remained still, watching his hand loosen it's grip on the instrument as your presence had been revealed. The veins across his wrist stood out to you, now, the way they'd come to meet those in the outside of his hand, how they'd flex as he pumped his erection. 

"It's fixed." Pushing the words out, you let a breath leave your lips, walking toward him to place it on the bed he'd been studying upon.  "Thanks, that's great." He offered a smile, one which you'd been unable to see as your eyes refused to meet his. "Are you-" He began speaking as your body language had closed up, taking a step backward. "Are you okay?" His question would be endearing in any other scenario; simply caring for your emotional well-being, but when the answer would revolve around the fact you'd just seen a multitude of imagery belonging to his own masturbation videos, you couldn't reply truthfully. 

"Yeah, uh-" You snapped your gaze up, forcing yourself to look at his face, falling onto his mouth opposed to matching his blue-eyed, confused stare. "I'm just tired." You didn't allow him to push into your poor excuse, turning on the heel to leave his bedroom.

You sighed as your back hit your own door, closing it behind you and returning to the safety of your room. Closing your eyes in relief, you'd been far from seeking out any self-reassurance, as the only thing on your mind had been Giyu. Through the darkness of your covered eyes, the imagery your brain had mustered was that of the thumbnail that had ruined your perceptions of your roommate. 

The way those black pyjama bottoms had sat just above his cock, allowing the flatness of his stomach to be exposed, a sharp v-line and trail of black hairs leading to under the fabric. There was no denying his body had been enticing, the tightness between your legs reminded you of the consequence of human urge. Surely, there was no harm in acting upon that, right?

Without much thought, you'd grabbed the vibrator you'd stored in your nightstand, along with your phone and earbuds, plugging only one in to listen out for any potential movement in the apartment, to save yourself from being caught in the act you'd been about to partake in, especially considering the only thing you'd wanted to watch would be the content from the male only one rooms from yours. 

Clicking the video, you watched as your own bathroom had appeared on screen. His chest down had been in frame, hands grasping between his legs as he'd shown off his length through the fabric of the loose fitted bottoms - the same ones you'd seen him wear around the house while he'd ventured from his room to grab a snack, or if meeting him in the hall when returning home from work. He palmed himself through them hips rocking against his own touch. Sliding the hand upward, he traced his fingers to his stomach, feeling along the outline of the muscle he'd had no fear of hiding, before returning back to the prominent bulge in his trousers. 

You turned the toy on, slipping your underwear down and laying back on the wall behind you, parting your thighs. Placing the silicone between your spread legs, the vibrations coarsed across your folds, eyes glued to the trousers Giyu squeezed the hard length, finally reaching to the waistband to free his cock from the cotton confinement it had been hidden behind. 

You cursed under your breath as your eyes laid over him, this time in video-form opposed to the thumbnails you'd seen on his computer. His fingers from his right hand trailed from his head to his base, dick twitching at the small movements he'd allowed himself to make, while his left had rested at his stomach, groping over himself as a loud hiss escaped his mouth. There had been a small bead of precum sitting at the tip of his slit, and you'd realised that his sensitivity to his own touch had most likely been due to at least a few hours of edging. Biting your lip, you pictured your roommate desperately trying not to cum in preparation for this very video. He'd clearly enjoyed the thought of cumming for the camera; willing to put effort in before even pressing record. 

Giyu finally stopped teasing himself, wrapping his hand around his thick girth, pumping a few times over. A deep groan tumbled from him, hips stuttering forward to buck in his own grip, pleasure causing his stomach to suck inward. His arm flexed as his fingers tightned, body turning slightly so the lens would capture the movement in his hips as he fucked into his hand, hums of satisfaction leaving his lips. 

The way he was moving was sensual, grinding his hips as if his hand had been a cunt wrapped around him, needily humping into closed fist. He let go for a second, but the motion his body had found itself in had continued, thrusting into the air, cock twitching as it begged for release. 

You'd wondered if you'd been home while he'd created this, thinking it couldn't have been likely due to the noise he'd been making. The bathroom had been between both of your bedrooms; if he'd been breathing heavily and moaning, you'd surely hear it. If he'd given the opportunity, you admitted to yourself you'd go in there and help him out, wondering how his cock would feel if it had been shoving into you instead of his right hand. 

A few 'fuck's had filled the air between his whines, his voice ringing through your earbud as if music, his curses sounding so painfully beautiful to you. You'd wished he'd show his face in the footage, being able to admire how his lips formed each profanity, or how his gaze would fall to watch his own cock disappear into the hole his fingers had made. His left hand fell to the shower screen behind him, using it to steady himself on as he'd leaned back, pushing crotch forward to elongate his already lengthy erection, hand barely moving as his hips carried the work. 

With each moment, Giyu's stomach moved more, breath becoming sporadic as he grew closer to climax. Each exhale through gritted teeth had turned into whimpers, if his head had been in frame you'd have known it would've been pressed back to the glass, as his back arched, stuttered movements as the hand supported him grasped onto the pane, a sentence finally spoken;  'Gonna cum-' 

You felt yourself clench as your own high was moments away, watching on your phone as thick white liquid had sprung from his cock, shooting upward to land over the hand he had been milking himself dry with, each thrust left grunts that had caressed the inside of your ear through the earphone you'd been wired to. You fell over the edge, biting your lip to suppress the moans you'd known would have erupted if you'd allowed them to. Your muscles contracted, eyes going foggy as they rolled back, breathy whimpers threatening to fall and signal to your roommate what you'd been up to.

The video ended, as had your climax, and you'd locked your phone, leaving it face down on the bed. Sitting upright, you sighed, wondering how you'd ever be able to look at Giyu again, without feeling the newfound lust you'd acquired; the usually silent male had been less so when it had come to his own pleasure, something you should've been none-the-wiser to until now. 

[variety-fangirl]

You're Saving Me / Steven Grant and Marc Spector x fem!reader

Summary: you had almost died, something Marc and Steven hoped would never happen because of them. You want to show them that you're okay and how much you love them.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS! not much. A little bit of angst (mentions of the reader almost dying, moon bois being heartbroken and emotional, mentions of violence and blood), mostly fluff, and brief mentions of smut (mostly loving and intimate, ass-grabbing, gentle hair-pulling, praise, unprotected p in v, fingering).

Author's note: inspired by James Arthur's song Avalanche, listened and got some inspiration to write it! I didn't intend for it to be as long and smutty as it came out but I regret nothing 😂😜 Enjoy loves. Liking, reblogging, and commenting help me out.

Word count: 2.2k

You had almost died.

They had almost lost you for good, the only thing keeping them sane. They couldn't quite put their finger on when things had gone wrong and when you had been put in danger. One minute you were safe in another area from them, and then you were in front of him with a gun pointed at your head. It had all happened so fast, too fast for either of you to register what was happening until too late. You'd never been in serious danger before but weirdly you knew deep down that your boyfriends wouldn't let anything happen to you.

They had saved you, of course, but not without you receiving some bruising and cuts. Every time one of them caught a look at you when your injuries were visible, they would stare at them with such sadness and guilt. You had tried to console them, and let them know it was okay. But Steven was too broken about it and Marc felt far too guilty to barely come near you. Countless late-night conversations and words of praise made no difference in changing their minds about their guilt of you being in danger and accidentally getting hurt. That's all it had all been, an accident that wasn't their fault but they refused to see it that way.

It had been a week since it all happened and Steven refused to front and Marc was being incredibly distant with you. To begin with, you felt angry and needy but you quickly realised that they were hurting on the inside. They were punishing themselves for "letting" you get hurt, feeling they were responsible for it. You pushed your own feelings aside and realised that you needed to put them at ease and show them that you were okay.

You walk over to where your phone is plugged in, charging, and shuffle your playlist. Marc was sat on the couch staring off into the distance at nothing in particular as you walked back over to him, standing in front of him. Seeing him so down and deflated, hurting deeply, broke your heart. You wanted to help take that pain away in whatever way possible you could. He watched as you gently grabbed ahold of his hands, pulling him up from the couch. He was larger than you so he had to help you pull himself up, showing he was intrigued by what you were planning. Avalanche by James Arthur played, one of your favourites.

You settle in the middle of the room, just behind the couch. Marc closes his eyes with a sigh as you place his hands on your waist and wrap your arms around his neck. Your bodies gently sway to the music as you lay your head on his chest, his cheek settling against the top of your head. You move your hands down to hold the middle of his back, fingers gripping the material of his t-shirt. Marc relaxed slightly into you, pulling your body as close to his as he could. His breathing shaky as his lips press against the soft skin of your forehead. You could practically hear his mind running wild with thoughts, dark thoughts that are very Marc whenever something bad happens.

I'm a mess, don't know what I would do without you.

I could cry, leading you down the same old road.

Without needing to clarify what you meant, you say, "stop. Stop thinking about it." Marc bitterly chuckles, always baffled how you could read him like a book. Always knowing exactly what he was thinking without a word needing to be spoken, he loved you for that. You had taken the time to get to know him and Steven without judgment or worry, you had accepted them as individuals and together. He, they, had almost lost the most important person in their life, the person they were madly in love with. Tears begin clouding his vision as he watches you lift your head to look at him, a look of such love and contentment staring back at him.

"We should have, I should have protected you better-" you shake your head to silence him, your hands taking a hold of his cheeks as the tears begin to flow. "It is not your fault, neither of your faults. Stop saying that, please. I do not blame you one bit for what happened, I'm so thankful that neither of you got seriously hurt or worse." You feel your own tears begin to form, wanting to take away their pain. You hoped words of affirmation and love would encourage them to feel less guilty about what happened, and come back to you. And hopefully to coax Steven to front finally.

Under this avalanche with you,

Avalanche with you

I feel the world collapsing down,

But after all that I've been through

Long as I'm with you

Nobody can hurt me now

You pull Marc in for a kiss, needing to show him that you loved him and Steven unconditionally, and didn't blame either of them for what happened. "I love you, both of you so much. And I wouldn't trade any of this for the world, no matter what happens. Nothing could make me stop loving you and Steven, okay? I need you to stop feeling guilty for what happened because I don't blame either of you." Marc's lips crash against yours suddenly, surprising you and eliciting a gasp from you which quickly turned into a moan. You were grateful that he was finally showing you affection after almost a week of nothing, neither realising just how touch-starved they really felt.

You're saving me, say to me

I'm not alone

Marc grabbed the back of your thighs, just under your ass, and uses his strength to lift you up. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist as he carries you to his bed, your back softly being placed on the mattress. Marc pulls his shirt off and throws it on the floor somewhere and crawls slowly on top of you, his lips returning to yours. You both moan into one another's mouths, hands exploring each other's bodies feverishly. Marc's lips attached to your neck, sucking and licking, leaving marks (no pun intended) in his path. Your hands fisting his hair and pulling gently, knowing he liked it, eliciting a deep groan from him that vibrated into the sensitive skin of your neck.

Piece by piece your clothing disappeared, both naked in no time. Your moans and gasps spur him on to continue what he was doing as he travels down to your breasts. Marc uses his free hand to softly run a trail down your stomach to the place you needed him most, small goosebumps forming in his path. His fingers slowly draw circles on your clit, "damn baby, you're so wet." Marc groans as his lips return to yours, your juices coating his fingers as he moves them down to your clenching hole. His fingers pump inside you, taking his time to tease you but in the best way possible.

"Marc I need you, please." you whimper, his fingers curling to hit that sweet spot inside you that had you rolling your eyes back in pure pleasure, it was too much and not enough at the same time. But, you wanted Marc and Steven inside you more. "Fuck." Marc groans, your whimpers and moans are like music to his ears. He couldn't deny you of his cock even if he wanted to, his want to bury himself as deep inside as he could was too strong to ignore. He took himself in his hand and pumped a few times, already hard, and lined himself up with your entrance. He looked down at you for approval, your nod was all he needed as he entered you slowly.

You both gasp at the overwhelming feeling and pleasure of him filling you, each inch created a delicious burn as he stretched you open. Your head lulled back against the pillow as Marc moved his arms to either side of your head, he wanted to be as close to you in all ways possible. Marc wasted no time as he started to thrust inside you, creating a slow but rough rhythm. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the pleasure took over your body, consuming you whole. You spread your legs open wider for him to slot himself closer to you, his body pressing against yours. His forehead came to rest against yours, your gasping breaths mixing together.

The room was filled with the sinful noises of your skin slapping together and the bed squeaking in protest. It was one of the most beautiful things Marc had ever heard, the proof of your lovemaking and adoration for each other. Marc couldn't understand how he'd gotten so lucky with you, both he and Steven felt their souls were damned for the life they chose. And yet, here you were, pinned underneath his body as he made love to you in the dimly lit room. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve you, but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain.

The pace changed, as did Marc's body language. He slowed right down and held you gentler, tighter to his body. If that were even possible. You turn your head as your boyfriend moves to look down at you, his hips not stopping. Steven. The way he looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world gave that away immediately, you'd learnt over time to tell who was who. It was like second nature to you now, and they appreciated that so deeply. "Hey, sweetheart. I'm sorry I was, fuck, gone for so long." He whispers breathless, groaning as you clench around him.

"That's okay... You're here now." You whimper, pulling Steven down by the kiss for a kiss, it was long overdue. Steven moaned loudly as your lips crashed against his own, hands trying their best to hold himself up. Your body was on fire, a burning pleasure searing through you from head to toe. You wanted him as deep inside you as your body would allow, needing him so desperately to fuck you as deep and passionately as he could. You reach your hands down his body and grab his ass, pushing him into you further as he thrusts forward. Steven groaned loudly as the new sensation of filling you to the literal brim, sent his body into overdrive.

"Fuck, im not gonna last much longer love." He groaned into your neck, feeling his balls tighten at an ever-growing rate. You nod, "I'm close too." Whimper as he hits that delicious little spot inside you repeatedly, his pelvis rubbing against your clit perfectly every time. You moan loudly as Steven's thumb rubs your clit, pulling his hips back slightly which gives you both a new angle to moan at. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening, the pressure building and getting stronger. You became breathlessly in the noises you made, your head was thrown back with your eyes closed.

Your toes curled against his back, your legs having moved there at some point, "fuck baby, you're clenching me so hard. So tight, you feel so good." The words threw you over the edge, a cry leaving you as the sensation exploded inside you. Your pussy clenched impossibly tight around Steven's cock, your body writhing at the overwhelming pleasure that filled you. Steven continued to ride you through your high, his own orgasm following closely behind. He came harshly with a loud groan into your neck, fucking you both through it. "Fuck! I love you." He whimpered, his body collapsing a top yours as you both tried to catch your breaths.

"Mmm, I love you too." You smile with contentment, your body relaxing and lulling you to a peaceful place. Steven pulled out of you as gently as he could, smiling as you protest with a pout at the emptiness. He returns moments later with a warm wet washcloth, wiping you as gently as possible. Your body squirms, your pussy sensitive yet still clenching as he touched you. You whore. Steven throws the rags somewhere on the floor and gets under the blanket, pulling you under with him. He drags your body as close to his as possible, not wanting to spend another moment away from you again.

"I love you, Marc." You mumble sleepily, your body too relaxed and exhausted to fight the tiredness. You would talk to them both tomorrow about everything, right now you were basking in the love and affection from your boyfriends. Marc smiles down at you as he gently strokes your cheeks and the last thing you hear before you fall asleep is, "I love you too, baby." He loved you more than you'd ever know.

Marc and Steven lay there silently in their fucked-out blissed state with you curled into their chest as you drifted to sleep, your arms holding them tightly. As Steven stared down at your peaceful figure, feeling safe and loved enough to stand by them no matter what, they made a pact together. "You're saving me, saving us and you don't even know it." He whispered gently to not wake you; you're everything and more than they wish for in a loving partner, and they couldn't imagine a life without you. They vowed from that moment on, that they would do anything and everything to keep you safe from harm's way if they could help it. You were it, their everything, and the thought of you being taken away from them broke their heart. Together, they vowed to love and protect you with all of their beings, even if it killed them.

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

(((Here we go, de-squicked for non-horrifically-debauched reading pleasure~))

Okay, as much as we like to talk about how fluttery and "proper" the Thalmor would be with their pet system and courting, I think we can all agree that like most "I'm holier than thou" archtypes, they're probably also into some mega kinky shit.

You're nuzzling against Ancano as he greets the others upon entering the next party. Even as he keeps his focus on the conversation, his hands wander up under your sheer, silky skirt to cup the cheeks of your ass and kneading the soft flesh. When he's sure the others' attention is where he wants it to be, he spreads your cheeks apart, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the glittering gemstone decorating the plug embedded in your second hole.

Soul gems carved into the shape of yoni eggs and charged with magic before being pushed deep inside your core. As if the stone itself humming with magic wasn't enough, skilled mages with more finesse can cause it to produce additional effects. One agent strokes your hip gently and the stone surges with heat, another traces patterns on the inside of your thigh and it becomes frigid like ice, yet another trails their fingers down your spine and the gem buzzes with electricity. They probably put a positive spin on this practice as well, as it's said consuming soul gems increases one's powers, and this is a way for them to release the gem's magic power into your body in a similar fashion. If you become more enduring, they may even start using multiple stones in the future.

Once you've become more used to the "routine" of these gatherings, Ancano starts taking you to the "after parties" that happen after the initial party. Taking place in the Embassy's dungeon, imprisoned Talos worshippers and pets that have fallen out of favor with their owners at the mercy of the heated whims of all sorts of monsters for the Talmors' entertainment.

"If they insist on worshipping a man as a god, then they must consider themselves below men," Ancano whispers in your ear as you all watch a troll line the heavy head of it's massive erection line up with the hole of breton woman, already sobbing and slobbering over the cocks of two goblins thrusting into her mouth. "Best to re-acquaint them with their own kind, don't you think?" He pulls you more firmly against his lap, feeling the bulge starting to form. "And as for her," he gestures at a girl in a similar silken outfit to yours, caught in a minotaur's full nelson, "that's simply what happens when pets become boring. It'll serve you well to stay…engaged, with this arrangement."

He says he makes you go to these particular showings to keep you from getting complacent with all the attention your receive, but he purrs in your ear all the while that no matter how much his colleagues are trying to curry your favor with gifts and flattery, they'd just as well love to watch you in the place of these heretics. He uses illusion magic to resonate with the soul gem nestled in your walls, making you see yourself in the prisoners' places as you watch, then making it mimick the sensations of what their going through without the pain, making you squirm at the false feeling of a werewolf's knot bouncing at your entrance or a spriggan plugging you with gooey sap.

When your whimpering and stifled cries finally start to stir some attention is when he speaks up, "my pet seems to be finding this display incredibly upsetting. May I ask for someone to take her out and 'console' her?" It's a miracle that it doesn't turn into a violent free-for-all for the other Altmer when they see the large stain of slick you've soiled Ancano's lap with by this point. When he lets your suitor for the night (first or only is debatable) lead you out of the room, he leans back in his chair with the most smug grin on his face. You need not worry, my little treasure, he thinks to himself, they'll never be bored of you.

WORK BITCH, THAT'S WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT 😩

[gaysheep]

Touching is Good: A Retrospective

My trusty Nintendo 3DS, which has held out since I was gifted it for my 15th birthday, has turned one decade old with my 25th birthday this past November. Given new life with custom firmware and nds-bootstrap via TWiLightMenu, the 3DS is stellar for visiting any past handheld title or console title up to (and somewhat including) the N64. (Quick plug for the CFW/hacking community for the less popular PS Vita, too, which has accomplished some pretty crazy-cool stuff this last year.) I use my 3DS more often than I use my Nintendo Switch most weeks.

The Nintendo DS (minus the three) launched in late 2004. The second display and stylus support were novel tools for developers to experiment with, and the NDS is best remembered for its robust catalogue of RPGs and visual novels. Where it lacked in power, narrative-focused games flourished under its technical limitations.

That being said, while browsing the ROM archives on Vimm's Lair to pick up some titles, I was reminded of what an interesting era the mid-to-late 2000s were for games. While Sony and Microsoft were fighting over the "core gamer" demographic, who had outgrown Nintendo mascots, Nintendo led a series of wildly successful marketing campaigns for its hardware after the light failure of the Gamecube, where the Nintendo DS and then the Wii were targeted at...everyone else.

[Image source. Image description in alt text.]

If you look at ads for the DS and the Wii, you'll see that adults are featured much more prominently than children, especially women and seniors. (This did not go unnoticed, as I found this ancient relic of misogyny while looking for images for this post.) A Nintendo handheld was already an easy sell to parents with small children (though I think it's also notable that ads which do focus on children often prominently feature girls. Munchlax is pretty hot...), but Nintendo's angle for the DS and Wii was that their hardware wasn't just for children. The Wii was a way to get up off the couch and to play board games with grandma. The DS was a great gadget for a working woman to keep in her pocketbook.

This worked. The Wii and DS were two of the best-selling consoles of all time. In particular, the DS's marketing campaign only worked because it came out in the perfect window of time. PDA-phone hybrids had been around since the 90s, and the Blackberry had been kicking around for a few years, but the iPhone wouldn't be introduced until 2007, and the 4G LTE standard wouldn't be released until 2009. While the Blackberry was popular with businesspeople and the PDA was out of style, smartphones were luxury toys for several years; they wouldn't become near-ubiquious until the mid-2010s. I didn't get my own smartphone until probably around the same time I got my 3DS, a full handheld generation later.

Browsing the software library for the Nintendo DS and DSi with that in mind is really interesting. Many titles released for the platform serve the same purposes that would be fulfilled by simple smartphone apps less than a decade later: planners and diaries, fitness trackers, calculators, language learning and SAT prep software, even a guide to the then-most-recent version of the driver's test in the UK. These proliferated with the release of the DSi's virtual store, but they existed even with the base model. You could go to a brick-and-mortar store and buy them on physical cartridges. (You might be wondering, "Why would you bother carrying those around over just buying a Blackberry?" You can't underestimate how expensive the service bills for a smartphone were before companies realized they were the most powerful spyware tool in history.)

There was never a time where every single businesswoman in New York carried a DS Lite, but adults did buy and use them, and a not insignificant portion of the DS's software library is aimed at a casual adult audience. Another niche covered mostly by smartphone games these days—games designed to be picked up and played in short sessions on-the-go, in places like waiting rooms and subway commutes.

Nintendo made crazy bank in the seventh console generation. Publications of the time talked about a console war between Sony, Microsoft, and Nintendo, but the real battle was between the PS3 and the Xbox 360 over the gamer demographic. Nintendo was producing hardware for a niche who would quietly disappear once smartphone sales began ballooning by hundreds of millions per year over the course of the early 2010s.

After the failure of the Wii U, Nintendo's marketing strategy pivoted again, though I doubt they'll ever completely abandon their family-friendly image. Currently beat out only by the PS2 and the DS, the Nintendo Switch may very well climb to a status as the best-selling console of all time before the end of its lifespan, but the "gamer" demographic is much bigger than it was two decades ago at the dawn of the DS. As more and more devices become consolidated into the Swiss army knife the smartphone has become, consoles can only carve out a role as dedicated gaming machines.

I'm not sure we'll ever see anything like the Nintendo DS or the Wii again. I think they're worth looking back on for their uniqueness in that way as much as they are for the more celebrated parts of their libraries.

[enbesbians]

GET TO KNOW ME

it's pretty long, i apologize...

this is a repost…

hi there. ive noticed some writers do this and i thought to do my own i have nothing better to do so let me introduce myself, fern the green loving idiot.

also let me plug my masterlist for you.

21 • nonbinary (they/them) • lesbian • black

my name is fern. i live in the sunny side of california, born in the east and traveled to the west. my sign is a taurus, my big three being taurus, scorpio and libra— if that really matters. i stand around 5'9" and i would consider myself masc but more of an androgynous descent. i was always obsessed with video games even though i hadn't owned anything other than an nintendo. id go over friend's house and play on their brother's or dad's consoles for hours on end. once games like 'the walking dead' and ‘the last of us (part 1)' released. my life changed. i was obsessed with its story and girls who had strong roles in any side of media. being introduced to ellie was one of the times i realized— especially with the dlc coming out— that i had to come to terms with my sexuality i had already been struggling with.

ive always loved women.

from the moment i was alive, the vision of breast or the plushness of their soft lips— the curvature of their bodies lining down, molding them into the goddesses that they are. i loved them. being in preschool, sharing my first kiss with a girl and being told that it was wrong, it gave me a rush. being exposed to porn at such a young age, eyes gluing onto the women with their bouncing breasts and loud voices, it awakened me with this need to touch and pursue them as if i was a man. i had an odd relationship with god, religion and the household teachings of what one should be. a child rummaging into an adult, a person born as a girl. in society, having a man with money, a big cock, a good job and a family with values that mirrored your own, was what made one respected. it was given that you (as a women) needed to live that fantasy. i don't want that. my mind was tainted by the devil in the eyes of who calls themselves holy. i adore women more than life, what it has to offer and the meaning of heaven. to grasp and hold onto womanhood of another, groping them as they tell me to not stop, whispering their satisfaction with trembling thighs, a hallowing abdomen and a wet cunt. it excites me. it felt like my own fairytale. to fuck a woman like a man. to betray the teaches of what makes a person 'good' the scent of sex roaming my mind, controlling my hand as i fuck myself to sounds of begging women who have the urge to release. the words shutter into a blissful ramble, their body being taken over. the biggest orgasm would form and an even bigger feeling of regret would wash over me. praying to god that i was one who followed the laws of religion. i shall not sin. i shall not let the devil corrupt my mind in the form of a woman- but fuck were they so tempting. battling through it all. the steps it took to finally reach out and press my thumb at the bottom of their lip- the warmth of their spit as they sucked it so sensually, i knew then that sin was worth it. i was a woman's whore. i was a proclaimed sinner. my tongue was gifted to only please the ones who needed pleasure, letting them know that they could cum more than once and that sinning is not only bad but so fucking good. each time felt like liberation. like i was the king of my own world. my heart racing, synchronized with the speed of her quickening moans. i no longer had the thought of god. i was consumed by the devil. sex and temptation of the succulence of her.

ive always struggled with my gender and the ways of expressing myself. being in a household were it wasn't easy to talk about things like mental health and serious topics like death, and even tamer things like sexuality, i ran through this struggle alone. at age 12 i gave up my faith in god and accepted the fact that i was queer and at 14 i came out myself as nonbinary and that was the time i started to feel like myself. i use the pronouns they/them and haven't changed since.

i love things like literature, i own a good chunk of them and have a mini library in my bedroom. i like to escape in the pages and imagine the world described. taking pictures of gloomy weather, rainfall and little creatures like stray cats or butterflies is a hobby i so gladly partake in. i also am a big metalhead (and all things rock and alternative). i love all forms of it- even though i dabble in almost every genre. ever since i was seven, finding a station on the radio, it opened a world of rock that i hold so closely. i even play the bass. i was introduced to fan fiction early on, starting off with straight fics that turned into celebrity × male reader (as i envisioned myself as a man thinking that being queer was a sin) until i stumbled upon sapphic fiction. ever since then i was wrapped in it and i hadn't even let go. it's been over a decade and now look, im writing my own.

anyway, that was long... and i hope it was informative. if you ever want to send me a message or ask a question, im always inviting. thank you for engaging.

[richerlandtv]

So last year when the 15th Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver was revealed...

A lot of people were going on about how it doesn't look enough like a screwdriver. It made me think "well, what does a Sonic Screwdriver look like?" And the more I thought about it, the more I thought, ultimately, you can get away with a lot with the Sonic Screwdriver so long as it's at least cylindrical.

So I opened up Maya and made a bunch of pieces and swapped them in and out until...

I had designed my own Sonic Scriver. Quite proud of it, too!

But to fabricate it, all I could really do was 3D print it, and while it's lovely for a hunk of plastic it just doesn't do anything.

So I asked a wizard.

Custom Sonics are absolutely amazing at making Sonic Screwdrivers. I sent them 3D turnarounds, photographs, and design documents and good (time) lord did they knock it out of the park.

Look at this!

It's absolutely beautiful!

Machined in real metal, with brass accents and durable resin grips, and fitted with lights and sound. Its weighty but light, feeling good in the hand.

I feel like it certainly measures up to other Sonic Screwdrivers!

I am so happy and so proud to have this in my collection.

If you want your own Sonic Screwdriver, definitely consider Custom Sonics for replicas, original designs, or to get a quote on your own custom design! (I'm not being paid to advertise, I promise lmao)

About the design:

I wanted this to look like the original Sonic Screwdriver had been built upon over the years, rather than simply being replaced. So there are elements of the Sonic Screwdriver seen in the Classic series acting as a base for the design, with everything else added on over the top.

Thinking of how the Doctor might improve on that original design in-universe, I thought about its weaknesses as an item. The Doctor could easily drop it and it might roll away, so I added a flat-edged grip. It also gets used a lot, so I thought it should have a ventilation system to prevent overheating. There are two sets of vents: the round ones near the top, and more subtle square ones near the grip.

The War Doctor uses the original Sonic Screwdriver but with the emitter head removed. We're never told why, but I like to think this, along with the additional piece added to the base, was done to give it more power. With that in mind, I thought perhaps an even more powerful Sonic Screwdriver - without an emitter ring - would need something to focus and stabilize the sonic waves. The Eleventh Doctor's and Fourteenth Doctor's Sonic Screwdrivers have "petals" which may or may not serve that function. This design has two additional emitters mounted on antennae to focus and stabilize the beam. The emitter head has a screw thread so a new emitter ring can be screwed on. I did design an emitter head, but with the stabilizers, the shape wasn't very satisfying, so that went unfabricated.

The base was left with an opening, which I imagined would allow it to plug into the TARDIS. This worked out well as it left room for Custom Sonics to install a charging port.

The brass rings were inspired by the Dalek Time Controller and The Rani's TARDIS console.

The silvery metallic blue colour was inspired by K-9.

The emerald and brass colours were chosen simply because it's my favourite colour combination. The use of brass was also inspired by clockwork, with its obvious relation to time travel and my own personal enjoyment of clockwork.

So that's my custom Sonic Screwdriver!

[24-guy]

You can decide from here on out how you take my requests: drawing and/or writing. Whichever you prefer for the specific thing.

Max and Richie playing video games. Pre or during relationship doesn't really matter.

I hope you're not sick of me-

I could never be sick of your requests. :))

And I'm gonna write it since it's easier for me where I am right now (in the kitchen, with no WiFi to be seen).

---

A new club had sprouted up at Hatchetfield High and sue Max if he joined it. He didn't exactly want to. But joining a club would help his resume to joining a good college, and when it proudly presented the advertisement of "Video Game Club", well it didn't seem like the nerdiest thing.

There were those soccer games, right? Yeah. He could just play those. Whatever. It was better than nothing.

The club occupied a computer room where every computer looked older than he was, grimy off-white mouses beside the awful clackity keyboards. It wasn't surprising that Hatchetfield High had a shit computer room, just about all of their funding went to the sports teams to beat Clivesdale in their competing events.

Nobody else had entered the room, yet, and Max found himself wondering who'd even started the club in the first place. He sat himself at the teacher's chair, spinning in it halfheartededly. As the door began to push open, Max turned and slow creeping regret settled into his bones as he saw who was behind it. He should have just taken the hit on not attending any clubs.

---

Richie had wanted to start a club for the past year. It was easy enough, just declaring it to the head and getting approval for it. Video games was a universal enough subject that meant there wouldn't be a big gate to getting involved with it. Ruth and Pete couldn't join for the first session, occupied with drama and science clubs respectively.

Richie's old, ratty PS3 weighed heavy in the plastic bag it was placed in alongside a disc case, and he considered the chance of it snapping under the weight. He shook his head, unlikely.

Richie had gotten lucky when he'd decided to bring the console in that day. He housed it in his locker and not once had Max or the other jocks come to pick on him in front of it, meaning it got kept a secret.

The computer room door was heavy as he pushed it with his shoulder, only looking up once it was too far open to back out.

Max Jägerman sat in the teacher's chair staring at him. Richie's brain set off alarm bells. Shit. This must have been an accident, right? A swift look to the room number confirmed it. Either Max had the wrong room, or he was intending on joining this club too.

Richie, numb from panic, placed the console on one of the desks close to him. He was aware of the eyes burning into the back of his neck and he jumped as the door to the room closed behind him.

The silence was thick as Richie stalled himself from turning around, but eventually he had to bite the bullet and turn, eyes immediately meeting Max's. The tension grew thicker and Richie wondered if he was living in a TV show or anime where he was bound to have unlikely events happen to him.

"So..." He awkwardly broke the silence. He drummed his fingers on the table behind him. "... Video games?"

Max looked like he was debating punching him, walking out or responding. Richie hoped it was one of the last two.

To his relief, Max responded. "Yeah."

Richie turned again and picked up the console, trying and failing to ignore how close he needed to get to plug it into the teacher's computer to get it to show on the projector. It felt like a black hole, being drawn in and pulled towards danger, ever aware of Max's presence.

After successfully turning the console on, Richie once again turned to the plastic bag and pulled out the case of games. He hesitated before handing it out to Max.

"You can pick a game." He said as Max took it from his hands.

---

Max had chosen Little Big Planet 2. Richie couldn't tell you why, but they played it. The classical music was almost humorous as the unmentioned tension sat heavy between them. Customizing their characters went as swiftly as it could have been.

Slowly, they worked their way in silence through the levels. Richie was taken aback by how well they were going through a teamwork based game without saying anything to one another.

That came to an end though as Max found an unreachable collectable. "How'd you get up there?"

"Uh-" Richie looked at the screen.

"There. Where that platform is." Max's character moved back and forth where his half of the screen was. Oh.

"Oh. That. I don't know. I haven't finished this game." Richie admitted, his character joining Max's and giving them a bigger screen to look at.

Max frowned in Richie's peripheral. "That's shit."

Richie swallowed the urge to apologise. "Yeah. Uh. A lot of these levels are difficult with only one player. And my brother's occupied with theatre and his boyfriend so..."

"Okay so we'll beat it." Richie's head snapped to look at Max suddenly. Even Max looked shocked by what he said.

Instead of clarifying, Max put his controller on the desk beside him and got up and left without a word, leaving Richie confused to process what had just happened.