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[cardsknight]

I'm more nervous than a fly dodging spiders on Halloween.

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[ukulelevillainwrites]

we're not gonna be friends

one shot

Warnings: none

Content: not enemies, more like annoyed at each other, to lovers, f!reader x George

Word count: 6.8k

Summary: George and y/n can't stand each other, but Lucy can see through their annoyance. Maybe she should help them out a little bit.

Comment: it took me an embarrassingly long time to write this but i'm so happy it's finally here! It was inspired by the song We're not gonna be friends by PJ Frantz which is attached to this

@neewtmas ; @maraschinomerry ; @oblivious-idiot ; @bella-rose29 ; @bobbys-not-that-small ; @lewkwoodnco ; @clarabowmp3 ; @demigoddess-of-ghosts

The kitchen was silent like it often was before breakfast. Or was it lunchtime already? Despite the number of clocks in the house, y/n couldn’t keep track of the day. Unlike Tendy’s where every agent had to keep a tight schedule, Lockwood&Co taught her to be more spontaneous with her day. She’d been there three months already, but she still wasn’t used to the hours kept by her colleagues. They could eat breakfast at 3am or 11, sometimes had breakfast for dinner or the other way around. The only thing she knew by heart was the quietness before a shared meal. The only noises came from George’s cooking. They would soon be replaced by uninterrupted chatter, the scraping of chairs against the floor and the kettle that was kept on most of the time.

She tried to appreciate the peace before the storm but it was tainted with the heavy stillness of the room. With his back turned to her, George couldn’t see her disappointment at the lack of conversation between them. Despite her best efforts, she hadn’t managed to find any sort of anchor with him. She had tried her best to be friendly, helpful, grateful for everything he did around the house but nothing had worked. Even the best conversation starters she could find about the Problem would get shut down in two sentences or less. Once, she mentioned the conversation she had overheard between two of her ex-colleagues, theories on the best ways to stop the Problem. His eyes had lit up, eager to respond and keep the debate going. He had only taken part of the conversation to contradict whatever the agents had said, but she was glad of the progress she made. However, she had made the mistake of smiling at him which instantly turned him mute once again before exiting the room without finishing whatever thought he had started.

She had grown frustrated of the situation. Frankly, if it hadn’t been for Lockwood and Lucy, she would have given up entirely. But they kept insisting that they could be the best of friends and if she was honest with herself she felt insecure about wrecking the harmony between the three roommates. She already felt guilty enough for making Lucy share her room, no matter how much she insisted that she liked having her here. So, she attempted a new approach: instead of talking to him, she would try to help him out, be of service.

She waited patiently for him to finish whatever step he was on in his recipe to get the plates from behind him. When he rested the spoon he had in hand on the side of the pan, she stood up and went for the plates. He got there first and turned around carrying the four plates. Instead of handing them to her, he avoided her eyes and set them down himself, practically walking through her. She didn’t let his rudeness stop her from helping and opened the cupboard where sat the glasses. He was faster once more and slid his fingers inside the glasses to grab two with each hand. Refusing to back down, she took the forks and knives out and set one of each next to the plates. She went next for the napkins but was stopped in her tracks by the sound of metal hitting plates. She turned around to see George rearranging her table setting, visibly sighing as he placed attentively the forks on the left face up and the knives on the right blades in. He once again avoided her gaze and went back to his dish still cooking on the stove.

“Should I bring the napkins or do you have preferences for that too?” She tried to say on a light tone but her annoyance bled through.

“However you want is fine.”

“Apparently not…” she mumbled.

“They’re just napkins, y/n.”

“They were just forks.”

“That’s differ-“

She slammed the door behind her before he could finish. She wasn’t sure if she was hungry anymore. The front door opened and she came face to face with Lockwood who was coming back from whatever errand he and Lucy had run in the morning.

“Hey,” he said as she passed by him. “Aren’t we about to eat?” he asked, but she was already climbing up the stairs.

He and Lucy exchanged a look before the girl decided to go after her. Even though y/n hadn’t said anything, Lucy was pretty sure George had to be involved. She couldn’t really blame her. She and George had had a difficult start too. But it hadn’t taken this long for the researcher to warm up to her. And y/n was much more polite than she had been. Something was off and he had some explaining to do. She would ask him about it after she made sure y/n was okay. She climbed the stairs up to the attic and found y/n angrily fluffing the pillows on her bed. She didn’t have to ask to know whose face she was picturing while violently adjusting the stuffing of a forest green throw pillow.

“So…” she started carefully, “how was your morning?”

“He is the most obnoxious and condescending jerk I’ve ever met.”

“What happened now?” she asked cautiously, but she couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“I have tried so hard to be pleasant and helpful. I talk about subjects he is interested in, I help out on chores he does, I do everything to be nice and a good roommate and he still won’t talk to me for more than thirty seconds and he won’t under any circumstances let me help out.”

She threw the innocent pillow on her bed to punctuate her annoyance.

Lucy felt torn by the situation. On the one hand she felt bad for her. Getting used to living with George hadn’t been easy for her either, but compared to how he was treating y/n, she had had it easy. He had been irritable lately and he snapped at the slightest inconvenience. On the other hand, she might have an idea of what was really going on.

“Why don’t we go back downstairs and eat something, it’ll make you feel better.”

“And deal with him? No thanks.”

She resolutely sat on her bed, crossing her arms to mark her words.

“I’ll bring up a plate for you.” Lucy said as she made her way back down the stairs.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Lucy said as soon as she entered the kitchen.

“Where should I start?” The skull countered in that invasive way he had of barging in on her conversations.

She ignored him and tapped George on the shoulder, making him look away from his cooking.

“Please, Lucy, we’re about to eat.”

“Yeah, well y/n’s not coming down because of you.”

“She’s not?” Lockwood chimed in.

“Our dear friend George annoyed her away.”

Lockwood smiled somewhat fondly. This was classic George.

“I didn’t do anything.” He said flatly.

“You didn’t let her help, you keep leaving her out!”

George took a deep breath before affirming decidedly

“I don’t like the way she sets the forks and knives.”

She and Lockwood exchanged a look. He couldn’t be serious.

“George, please,” Lockwood started, sensing Lucy’s annoyance.

“She doesn’t check if they match and she sets them haphazardly because she can’t be bothered to place them on each side of the plate, it drives me nuts!”

She looked across the table to see Lockwood smiling at her, silently acknowledging his friend’s quirks.

“George,” he started, “I can’t have two team members unable to work together over forks and knives. I’m gonna need you to make an effort, try and be friends.” He punctuated his words with one of his charming smiles.

George stood up and grabbed his plate.

“I can’t be friends with her.” He declared before going in his room.

Lockwood sighed in defeat.

“Don’t worry about it too much.” Lucy told him.

“How can I not? They’re this close to being at each other’s throat.”

Oh I don’t know about throats but something else surely. She didn’t want to say anything yet, but she had a hunch. George was rude, more so than he had ever been to her. He claimed he couldn’t stand y/n, yet he somehow always managed to be in the same room as her. If he truly couldn’t spend a minute in her company, why did she find him researching a case in the library on several occasions with y/n reading nearby instead of going in his room? And why would he spend twice as much time cleaning if not maybe to see her coming in? He may have his preferences when it came to cleaning, but her instincts told her there was something else at play here.

“Maybe we could make them collaborate more…” She told Lockwood with a grin.

They shared a complicit look.

George was halfway through an article when Lockwood called him down. He wondered what could be more important than being prepared for a case but with Lockwood it could be anything. Without looking up from the newspaper he was reading he went downstairs, only to be greeted with Lucy’s insistent stare. She had that look on her face. It instantly filled him with dread. Whatever they did, it obviously meant more work for him.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Nothing!” Lucy answered too quickly. “We just…”

He left the article on the nearest table to cross his arms. He looked back at Lockwood.

“We knocked over a few boxes while training.”

“So? Just clean it up.”

“They’re yours. It’s your records and research on the Problem…”

George stormed downstairs. Dealing with Lockwood’s recklessness in the field was already a lot, but carelessness in the house they all lived in, that’s where he drew the line.

“I’m sorry George,” Lockwood chased after him, “I want to help but I don’t know your system.”

“You’d mess it up anyway. It’s fine, I’ll take care of it.” He sighed.

“At least let me get you some help,” Lucy said, already halfway back into the hall.

Before he could protest, she called “y/n! We need your help!”

The girl arrived shortly after, visibly unhappy about the situation.

“We have errands to run, but have fun you two!” Lucy said cheerfully, quickly exiting through the front door before anyone of them could protest.

George stared at the closed door with round eyes. He wasn’t mad about the files anymore. This was worse. So much worse. How was he supposed to get anything done while she was around?

“What do you need help with?” y/n asked flatly.

Without sparing her another glance he rushed back downstairs to evaluate how much damage had been done. He didn’t want to try and explain his system. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he could. He was aware of his quirks and weird habits, and he was aware that it didn’t make sense to most people. Lockwood had made that clear. And even though Lucy made efforts, his filing system was where she drew the line. He didn’t want to hear the same thing from y/n.

Papers were scattered across the office floor. The filing box labelled ‘Problem’ was upside down, balanced between two chairs and on the verge of joining its content below it. The tabs he had placed inside to keep everything organized hadn’t survived the attack. This would take hours.

“So, you’re not even going to talk to me now?” y/n’s voice resonated from the kitchen.

His heart started to beat faster. With wild eyes, he started to pick up the papers mechanically while his mind reeled. What was he supposed to say? Her footsteps resonated louder as she stepped further down into the basement. The air grew thicker with tension as she did so. He wished he would break through the window and run away from this awkward situation.

“George?” she started, crossing her arms as she reached the last step.

Reluctantly, he lifted his eyes towards her, silently cursing himself for screwing up their relationship this badly. He blinked, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Fine.” she let out, slightly louder.

The look on her face made him ache. She looked terrifying when she was angry. He froze halfway through collecting the papers at his feet. She frowned at him, probably wondering what was wrong with him. She bent down and picked the papers up for him, organizing them in neat piles on the one desk that Lockwood and Lucy had spared.

“You know,” she started, “you’re probably the most confusing person I’ve ever met.”

He still stood in the middle of the room, paralyzed by the coldness of her voice. He stared blankly as she angrily collected the papers and forcefully sorted them, creasing some of them in the process.

“I tried to help around the house, but you never let me. I clean, you clean again after me. I initiate conversation and you find any excuse to leave the room.”

She looked down at the last papers she picked up. They were newspaper cuttings about the most relevant outbreaks of the Problem. She smiled as she read the titles and it sent a chill down his spine. Whatever was coming next was not going to be good.

“I spent hours reading all I could find about the origin of the Problem. Lucy said that was how she got you to open up. I thought we could finally have something to talk about. Instead, you walked out after two minutes.”

George looked back at her, a knot forming in his stomach. Having all his mistakes lined up this way made him realize how badly he had handled the situation.

“Am I really that hard to live with?” she asked. There was a crack in her voice.

He couldn’t stay silent. Not this time. But no matter how much he wanted to find the right thing to say, he came up short.

“I’m sorry!” he blurted out.

She looked up, surprised.

“What was that?” she said, eager to make him apologize again.

“You heard me…” he mumbled.

“No, I don’t think I did,” she smiled. “George Karim apologizing? That’s more unlikely than seeing a ghost hula hooping.”

He smiled back. They stared at each other for a few seconds, long enough to make the air feel warmer in the basement. The first crumb of complicity gave him enough courage to try to make up for his rudeness. He added the papers in his hand to the pile on the desk in front of him before continuing.

“I never wanted to make you feel unwelcome.” He looked down, ashamed to admit he had badly misread the situation. “I’m just used to Lucy pushing back and when you didn’t, I thought… that maybe you were faking it? That you were talking about the Problem just to make fun, and you helped out just to annoy me and slow me down-”

“Oh, being nice is annoying now?”

“I don’t know! I’m a jerk, I see that now.”

“At least we can agree on that.”

He looked back up expecting to see her frowning.

“Why are you smiling?”

“You’re finally honest with me. I take that as a victory,” she said decidedly as she reached for the upturned cardboard box.

“So I’m guessing you have a system to organize your files?”

The question caught him off-guard. Was she really moving on from three months of feud that easily? It felt like a trick. She stared at him expectantly.

“Just… chronological.” He said cautiously.

“I don’t think you’d use that many tabs if it was just chronological. You must have subcategories, right? Like at least geographical and then maybe by source…”

Whatever trick this might be, it was working. He couldn’t resist correcting anyone about his filing system.

“I always start with the chronological order and then I file everything according to geography. For each year, I like to organize the records by city then order them by region and finally-”

“Alphabetically?”

“No,” he said with a smile. “I take the region most located South then move back up East, then North and finish West.”

“Why?”

“It’s easier to visualize on a map.”

She laughed. “I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

When she and Lockwood came back from their errand, which really consisted of going to the coffeeshop closest to the house to let George and y/n have it out, Lucy was shocked to discover that her plan had actually worked. Well, not that shocked. She knew there was something there. They just needed a little push.

They had to climb down the stairs to the basement to finally find them because none of them answered their calls from the hallway. They were deep in conversation about the Problem. The files and boxes had been entirely cleaned up, everything was back on the shelves and… Wait, did George just laugh at something y/n said? How long had they been gone?

Lockwood had a confused look on her face, matching hers. It didn’t leave him the entire way to the client’s house that evening. There was no more tense silence, awkward avoidance or strange atmosphere in the group. The change was radical. Had she known it would have been this effective, she would have locked them up in the basement three months ago. She had been worried they would have ripped each other’s eyes out in such close quarters. In this moment though, they stared intently at each other more than they looked murderous. She smiled to herself, only making Lockwood more confused. She threw him a look. They are so gone for each other. He looked at her sideways, seemingly in disbelief. She raised her eyebrows. I swear! You’ll see. He seemed unconvinced, but she knew. “I can’t be friends with her” George had said. Yes, quite literally, she thought.

The cab came to a halt in front of their workplace for the night. 11 Hall Road. Lucy would have loved to have an exciting new case that she could add to her journal, but the truth was that most cases were plain. An old person dies, the inheritors need to clear the house before living there or selling it. Those who had become apathetical to the Problem said it was just another expense to plan alongside the funeral. She wasn’t in the mood for apathetical. Not when she had two idiotic friends practically holding hands after being at each other’s throat for the past three months. It comforted her to see them remain focused on their tasks without breaking conversation, and she almost didn’t want to tell them to stop to allow her to use her talent. A job was still a job though.

When silence hit them, so did the cold realization of all the sorrow surrounding them. Wailing filled Lucy’s ears and soon the faint outline of the phantasm haunting the place appeared in the corner of her eye. She couldn’t perceive it very well, but its screams made it hard for her to think. Lockwood stepped in front of her, rapier drawn and ready for a fight, while George tried to yell over the disembodied screams what the source could be. y/n was running through the house following his directions but to no avail. His last idea was a miniature car in the bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Found it!” y/n called from upstairs.

But Lucy was the one with the silver nets. She drew her own rapier, aiming for the stairs. The phantasm was faster. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the figure floating upstairs, so fast she doubted her mind for a second. y/n’s scream confirmed she hadn’t been dreaming. Lucy saw the girl running past her in the opposite direction, only stopped by the chest of drawers stationed on the landing. She hit her side with a definite thump, bringing her down and leaving her paralyzed on the floor of the corridor. Lucy hurried up the stairs and came to stand between y/n and the ghost, drawing intricate patterns she had practiced with Lockwood. When she heard the boys climbing the stairs, she used her other hand to take the silver nets out of her pocket. They got caught in her belt and the second she looked away was enough for the visitor to float closer to y/n, still lying a few feet behind her. Using her remaining strength, y/n threw a salt bomb, winning enough time for Lockwood to join Lucy’s side, covering George while he took care of the source.

None of them really spoke on their way back, still shaken from the close call they avoided. Y/n didn’t suffer major injuries, just a few bad bruises, which was a relief. It was enough for Lockwood to tell her to stay home for the next few days. She hadn’t protested, probably because she was exhausted from the night and the drive had rocked her to sleep. When they arrived in front of Portland Row, George didn’t let Lucy wake her up. Instead he carried her inside and despite the night they’d had, she smiled.

The rays of light shining on her face hurt her closed eyes, but not as much as the bruises in her side that decided to wake up as soon as she emerged from her heavy sleep. She was sore, thirsty and only managed to groan when trying to move in what was definitely not her bed. She reached over, eyes still closed, and encountered something cold. Her reflexes kicked in, knocking the glass over and effectively pouring its content on her. She jerked up and immediately screamed at the pain stabbing her side.

“Are you okay?” George asked, worried, as he crashed back into his room.

Desperately trying to get away from the cold wet blanket, she pulled herself up, only managing to hurt herself more.

“No, no, no, slow down. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you do that.”

He gently nudged her back down, elevating her head with a pillow and removing the blanket to toss it on the floor. She shivered.

“How did you sleep?” he asked as he casually laid something else on her.

“Terrible,” she simply said as she managed to open an eye.

“Do you remember last night?” he continued while helping her sit.

“Yes… I think.” She looked around with half-opened eyes. “Why am I in your room?”

“Lockwood almost passed out after the first flight of stairs.”

She opened her second eye and stared at him dubitatively.

“Fine I wasn’t doing great either.”

She laughed lightly but it only triggered her injury again.

“Here, drink this,” he handed her a cup of tea, “and today you’re on bed rest. No work, no chores, nothing. Not even laughing.”

“I should keep you around then,” she said, before taking a sip.

He threw her a look, but even with eyes half open she could see the shadow of a smile on his face.

He went back downstairs, leaving her to savor her tea, its warmth welcome after having been awakened in such a brutal way. She looked back down and noticed what George had draped over her. His own sweater, the one he wore in October when the days started getting colder, sat gently on her shoulders, smelling faintly of cedarwood. She hadn’t realized how soft it was, having only touched it with her eyes. The night after the case was a blur, but she could have sworn that only one person had carried her upstairs. She smiled to herself as she looked around his room. Papers were left scattered on his desk, some fallen on the floor. Trinkets were gathered on every shelf that wasn’t already full of books. It was messy, disorganized, but comforting in its own way. She wondered how someone who kept such meticulous files on the Problem could live in a room like this. If she tried to make sense of it, she would probably spend the day here, and she simply refused that. Staying still was out of the question. She carefully sat back up before she tried to get onto her feet. The whole ordeal took about ten minutes. This might not be the brightest idea, she thought to herself, but she was finally making progress with George, they had a semblance of connection and she certainly wouldn’t let one wound stand in the way of her friendship with him.

One painful shower and a whole hour later, y/n made her way downstairs and joined George in the kitchen. She hadn’t even made it through the door that she could already hear him telling her off for getting out of bed. He chastised her about the dangers of disregarding health and how irresponsible it was of her to push her body to its limit. She just took a seat at the kitchen table and smiled at him. He had been talking to her for five uninterrupted minutes with eye contact and everything. Technically it was to yell at her, but still. progress was progress. He gave up when noticing her smile wouldn’t budge.

“Why did you come down anyway?”

“I was hungry,” she said while grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl in front of her.

“You could’ve just told me I would have brought something for you.”

“Actually, since I’m on house arrest and you’re finally speaking to me, why don’t you let me help you out today? You know like cleaning, cooking… everything you do all the time for everyone and never let me help with?”

“No. You’re injured. You shouldn’t move that much.”

“How about research then? That’s just reading.”

“No,” he said decisively, punctuating his rejection with a pointed look.

“Stubborn idiot.”

“Well, I am not the idiot who tripped and almost shattered my hip on a dresser.”

She scoffed and threw the orange in her hand, aiming for his head. He caught it just in time before it made contact with his cheek. He stared back at her with round eyes.

“What the hell was that?” he asked with an edge in his voice. Did she just imagine his voice getting deeper? The slightest grin formed at the corner of his mouth, giving her chills. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re just jealous because even injured I have better aim than you.” She blurted out, hoping the redness of her face wasn’t obvious.

When he didn’t respond, an idea popped into her head.

“And you probably don’t want me to help because you’re scared I’ll be better at research than you are too.”

He smiled, set the orange down on the table and turned back to the dishes he had started before she got there.

“You really think I’d fall for that? Who do you think I am? Lockwood?”

She took back the fruit and slumped into her chair.

“Can you at least let me help? I can’t stay still for so long, I’ll go mad”

She fidgeted with the orange in her hands, planting her short nails into its skin the best she could. She only managed to pull off small pieces each time.

“You’ll slow me down, and I can’t allow myself to miss a single element. I don’t want last night to happen again.”

She looked up to find him already staring.

“I managed to keep up with your files on the Problem, why would that be any different?”

He didn’t have anything to say back. She smiled triumphantly.

“You have no more arguments, I win the argument! Where should I start?”

He sighed, dried the glass he was holding and sat next to her.

“By learning how to peel an orange properly.” He retorted, snatching the fruit from her hand.

Methodically, he sunk his finger under the peel, tearing it confidently. The fruit’s sweet perfume filled the air as George dropped the peel on the table in one piece. While she studied his hands attentively, he proceeded to tear the orange apart, setting its pieces on the table in front of her.

“I can do that myself you know.”

“Can you?”

“Jerk.” She laughed. Being friends with him wasn’t exactly what she had thought it would be, but she had to admit that she liked it.

He got up and snatched a piece from her hand.

“Hey, what was that for?”

“Compensation for my efforts.” He smirked.

He disappeared into the living room and came back with piles of materials in his arms. He did a second trip to bring books and case files, then a third to get notebooks from his room. When he got back into the kitchen, he sat next to her and wrote the name of the client on the thinking cloth. He pushed back his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s get to work.”

George knew that y/n was too stubborn to rest despite her injury, and she was too clever to be tricked into it. To be fair, he hadn’t tried that hard. He really was glad of the company. He gave her some context for their upcoming case and described his usual research methods. He realized he might have been explaining things too fast when he noticed her staring at him with round eyes.

“I lost you, didn’t I?”

“Sort of…” she answered, embarrassed. “Am I wasting your time?”

“Like spending time with you could ever be wasted time” he wanted to say. Instead, he simply shook his head and started his explanation over, shaking off the thought.

He was right, though. Not only was he greatly enjoying himself, she was also a quick learner. By the second hour spent gathering material, they had already uncovered crucial elements about the history of the place and they had started narrowing in on the type of object that could be a potential source. They made a good team.

The day had gone by without any of them leaving the kitchen. They were enthralled in their work with a comfortable silence between them. They sat side by side, sharing documents and exchanging notes on the Thinking Cloth with an appeasing familiarity. Deep down, George felt guilty that they missed out on moments like these in the past because he was too focused on keeping his new colleague at arm’s length. Their knees bumped every once in a while, each moment making his heart skip a beat. Out of surprise, that is, not that he paid it any mind.

In just a day he had learned to read her smile. The soft polite one was how she asked if he wanted more tea. The shy one meant she needed his help but didn’t want to ask. His favorite one was her triumphant smile when she finally figured out what the source must be. He held his hand out high for her to high five him back. She did, her touch electric against his. She didn’t let go and wrapped her fingers around his, lingering there for another second. He stared at their tangled fingers, oddly captivated. His eyes traveled down her arm and up her face to find her already staring. His breath caught. Suddenly he couldn’t care less about the case they had been working on. Nothing mattered except for the way the warm light of the kitchen lit up her eyes. Her lips parted, catching his eye before he could stop it.

“It’s late, I should probably get some sleep,” she quickly said when their eyes met.

“Yeah,” he let go of her hand, “good idea.”

She used his shoulder to stand up and flinched. He didn’t know if it was from the contact or the effort.

“Good night,” he said gently, trying to shake off some of the awkwardness he was feeling.

“Good night. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I can’t promise anything,” he mumbled as he watched her close the door behind her.

He found it ironic that she was giving him advice when she had been blatantly ignoring everything he said about her health all day long. He returned to the newspaper he was reading, every word on the page escaping his attention. What smile had she used when she left the room? He took a pen to keep his eyes from skipping five words at a time. She had touched his shoulder on purpose earlier, hadn’t she? This was useless. He gathered up the rest of the papers he hadn’t read yet and headed back to his room, conceding defeat to the butterflies settling in his stomach.

y/n woke up around 2 am, her aching body forcing her awake demanding a glass of water. Everything was dark around her, but she could hear Lucy’s steady breathing on the opposite side of the room. She did her best to get to her feet silently, ignoring the pain still twisting her side. The steps creaked lightly underneath her bare feet, the sound resonating loudly in the silent house. She reached the first landing discreetly with the hope that she wouldn’t wake anyone up. Instead, she was surprised to see a ray of light coming from under George’s door. It was ajar, so she pushed it lightly to see him hunched over his desk, still reading the newspapers she had left on the table a few hours earlier.

“You’re really stubborn you know?”

He didn’t seem surprised to hear her behind him.

“You’re one to talk,” he retorted.

She knew there was no point in arguing, especially at this hour.

“I’m getting some water, do you want anything?”

“Tea would be fine, thanks.” He turned around. His hair was visibly disheveled. Even though he didn’t put that much effort into it at regular hours, it was obvious that he was tired.

When she came back a few moments later, he was still absorbed by whatever article he was reading. He hardly paid attention when she set the steaming cup next to him. She didn’t really expect him to, so it really came as a surprise when he reached for her hand without taking his eyes off his notes. The contact of his hand on the bare skin of her arm almost made her spill her water.

“Take a look,” he simply said. He pointed at an annotation he had written in the margin of a newspaper article he was reading.

She sat on the stool next to him to inspect his findings. His scribbling was already hard to read in the daylight, but in the dead hours of the night it was almost impossible. He saw her squint and read aloud. The words evaded her. She blamed the lack of sleep and not the fact that his hand was still resting on her arm, gently swaying back and forth. She stared at it, its slow movements calming her down. It made her feel peaceful, appeased. She wondered however why her heart was beating faster if she was feeling so calm.

“y/n?”

“Hmm?” She looked up and was caught off guard by the gentleness in his eyes.

“You should go back to bed.”

“No, no, tell me. I’m listening.”

She could see the cogs turning in his head, weighing his options, whether forcing her to rest would be worth the effort or pointless from the start. He sighed.

“I found another death related to the client’s house. I’m trying to see if the haunting is caused by what we found earlier or if it’s something else entirely.”

“That’s way too much work to do by yourself in one night.”

“Someone has to do it. You should rest, I’ll tell you what I found in the morning.”

She got up, but she knew fully well she wasn’t letting him work all night alone. She took all the papers she could gather in her arms, ignoring his hushed protests, and made herself comfortable in his bed. He looked at her incredulously. She tapped the spot next to her, a large smile lighting up her face.

He sounded defeated when he said “why are you like this?”

“You look out for me, I look out for you.”

It shut him up on the spot. She got under the covers and organized the documents in piles around her while he stared silently, his mouth slightly agape.

“What? If we’re here all night we might as well get comfortable.”

His eyes were so round she thought it must hurt him. “We?”

She tapped the spot next to her again.

“Come on. You can’t tell me to rest if you’re not doing it either.”

Reluctantly, he joined her, looking like he was intruding in the sheets of a total stranger. At first, he pushed the cover aside. It was as if he was allergic to comfort. He kept his distance and even hesitated to reach over to grab a newspaper. They read in silence, the only sound coming occasionally from the turning of pages. He seemed to quickly forget about his awkwardness though, as he leaned in whenever he found something. He got closer each time and she took each opportunity to raise the blanket higher over him. He needed to sleep and he would, even if she had to sneak up on him. By the time he finished his mug, they were shoulder to shoulder, speaking in low voices in each other’s ear. Even in hushed tones, she could sense how enthusiastic he was about what he discovered one newspaper after the other. She could have listened to him talk for hours… if she wasn’t so exhausted. No matter how hard she tried to keep her eyes open, her head was drawing impossibly close to George’s shoulder. She was too comfortable to resist. When he noticed her dosing off, he spoke lower and lower before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She sunk into a deeper slumber, George’s even breathing rocking her to sleep, until the turning of pages disturbed her ears. He wasn’t going to sleep unless she made him. With her eyes still closed, she traced her fingers up his torso to find his neck, his chin, and finally his glasses. She took them off before turning her back on him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Forcing you to get some sleep,” she mumbled.

“Give me back my glasses.”

“Come get them yourself.”

She was certain he would concede defeat after this. What she hadn’t expected was George laying down closer against her with his arms draped around her waist. She froze. His hands traced their way down her arms and his hands locked around hers, gently trying to nudge his glasses out of her hands. She held them tighter, unable to keep herself from smiling. He had his head in the crook of her neck and she felt a smile forming on his lips too.

“You’re impossible. You’re stubborn, insufferable-”

“You used that one earlier already.”

He laughed. “You’re just proving my point.”

A light laugh escaped her too, only it made her bruises act up again. She flinched.

George let go of her hand, his fingers traveling lightly over her side.

“Does it still hurt?”

“A little bit.”

He sighed in her neck, making her shiver.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out sooner what the source was. I could have saved you the injury.”

Something clicked in her mind, clearing all desire to sleep for a moment.

“Is that why you’re staying up so late?”

He didn’t say anything back. She rolled back to face him, his hands now resting on her lower back.

“George, you’re not the reason why I couldn’t avoid running into a dresser.”

He laughed, but he avoided her eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault. Now please get some sleep.”

He looked back at her with intensity. His eyes looked dark in the dim light, almost black.

“On one condition.”

Before she could ask what he needed from her, he took it. His lips crashed against hers with a hunger she didn’t know he had. She was still in shock when he drew back, looking back at her hesitantly. He didn’t seem to know that she loved this unsuspected bold side of him. She tangled her fingers in his hair to pull him back in. He seemed surprised at first, but his hands quickly ran up her back to draw her nearer. She could have expected to feel anything from kissing George. Awkwardness, shyness, a few days ago she would have completely rejected the idea. She certainly wouldn’t have expected it to feel so right. His hands seemed to fit the small of her back like puzzle pieces locking perfectly in place. She was surprised at how quickly she had come to wanting more. She needed him, all of him, impossibly closer. She circled his hips with her leg while her hands roamed down his back. He smiled into each kiss, leaving her lips every now and then to trail her cheeks and down her neck. She looked back at him with sparkling eyes.

“So, one condition?”

“Don’t leave. Please.”

Her smile grew bigger.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[krono-knight]

HI HI YOUR TURN 48 for the Spotify drabble :)))

Girl Hell 1999

fandom: Rottmnt

word count: 996

content warning: i THINK none but tell me if i missed any

AO3: here!

misc: EUGH BOY this took way longer then i thought it would. for some reason this fic fought me from start to finish. song i got was rly good tho! girl hell 1999 by femtanyl is one of my favourites and i already associate it with Cassandra so. its done im free!

][][][][

The first time Casey was hugged since she betrayed the Foot, it was in passing.

It was a few weeks after the Battle Nexus New York, everyone in the newly-found and newly-cleaned abandoned subway station, helping renovate the place. It was still clearly dilapidated, damp and slightly stuffy, but Casey was shocked at how fast a sense of home seeped into it's edges. There were recovered posters hanging on the walls, various boxes filled with knick-knacks awaited shelves on the floor, and Donatello had just finished setting up fairy lights throughout the lair the day before.

It was nothing like the Foot.

Which should be obvious. The Foot were the Hamato’s sworn enemies! Of course they’d be nothing alike. But she kept comparing the two anyway, for some reason. 

Casey herself was building something, a skate ramp, she thinks. Mostly, Donatello had pointed her in the direction of a pile of wood and a hammer, and told her to start building. But she knew that making herself as helpful as possible was how she impressed the Foot, and if she had wanted to impress the Foot, she definitely wanted to impress the Hamatos

So she kept hammering, with all her furious need to be liked by these people fueling her.

Honestly, she still didn’t understand the Hamatos. They called themselves a ninja clan, but they were so different to all the clans she’d applied to. For starters, there were only seven of them, eight including her (she's not sure if she’s included). And their structure is basically nonexistent! There’s no separation between basic soldiers and commanders, or commanders and leaders, there’s no management! There’s no ranks for her to progress in, and no higher-ups for her to impress. Sure the Foot were evil, but they were easy to understand.

When she’d asked about getting a clan uniform, she'd gotten weird looks. She didn't ask again.

Back in the present, the echoing sound of many things falling over in rapid succession startled Casey so bad, she nearly hit her thumb again.

Her eyes snapped to the source of the noise, hammer hefted over her shoulder as she half expected to see a hoard of Foot soldiers invading the subway station. Instead, she was greeted by the sight of Michelangelo, cradling his head and sprawling at the foot of the broken escalator, along with several boxes and piles of disorganized stuff.

"That's what you get for carrying boxes three at a time." Donatello said, elbow-deep in what Casey thinks is a fridge. His words are careless, but the way his arms still and drawn-on eyebrows scrunch belies genuine concern. Getting to know Donatello, Casey was learning, meant getting to know a lot of these small body-language cues.

"Gee, thanks Donald," Michelangelo grumbled, undignified and still very much on the floor.

Seeing her moment, Casey dropped the hammer entirely and very consciously did not salute Michelangelo, because this was not the Foot and they didn't do that here! Instead, she marched to where he had fallen, and stretched a hand in his direction.

"I CAN CARRY SOME OF THE BOXES," she said, at a normal volume, tacking on a quieter "If you want!" on the end.

"Really? Thanks Casey!" He said, taking her offered hand and only stumbling a little bit with the force of being yanked to his feet. Casey, faced with another way to prove herself as the new (maybe?) part of the Hamato clan, was ready to let go and start picking up boxes, but for some reason Michelangelo didn't just let go of her , instead opening his arms wide and throwing her into—

—a hug?

A hug.

Her mind crashed to a halt, thoughts both utterly blank and claustrophobically packed. It was… warm? He was short enough that his head slotted comfortably under her chin. If she wanted to, she could rest her hands on the back of his shell. She was being hugged?

She was being hugged.

She didn’t know what to do with her hands.

It had been… a while, since anyone hugged her. She was stiff and frozen, and all too soon Michelangelo pulled away, mild frown tugging at his features. Casey was just looking at her hands. Her emotions were going haywire, and she couldn't tell why. After all, it's not like she needed hugs, or friends, or…

Oh god, she has friends.

That's what this is, isn't it? that's why comparing the Hamatos to the Foot didn't make sense. It was a fundamental mismatch; apples to oranges.

Comparing the Hamatos to the Foot felt wrong, because the Hamatos were her friends.

Mikey jumped backwards, keeping his arms extended as if trying to create a physical barrier between them. "Sorry! Sorry, you don't have to like hugs, I should have asked before- EEP!"

Without warning — half without thinking — Casey rushed forward and hugged Mikey, and this time she did wrap her arms around his shell, squeezing like she was doing her best impression of an orange juicer. He caught on fast, hugging her in return with just as much enthusiasm.

She would have been glad to stay there until nightfall. It was the most comfortable she felt in days, like she actually understood herself a little bit more, a little less like she was floundering. That was, until Mikey tapped her on the back and wheezed "Casey, this is great an' all but I can't breathe."

She released him, and he beamed a smile at her she could feel reflected in her own features. Later, they would order pizza, and all the eight members of clan Hamato would watch Lou Jitsu movies until the sky changed colours, and then changed colours again. Later, when she's thinking about proposing to April, Mikey would help her pick out a ring, and Donnie would help her pick out a wedding outfit. She'd change their lives and they'd change hers.

But for now, for the first time in a long time, she just felt safe.

[nakanotamu]

I decided to try out Star Citizen with the current IAE free fly event rather than just watching youtube videos and never playing it.

I spent idk how long, too long, trying to do the tutorial. (Part of why it took so long was I kept stopping to look around my starting city.) Eventually I got far enough I learned how to fly, but it wouldn't register that I'd landed in the station you have to fly to to progress the tutorial, so I couldn't go any further. I logged out and just chose to skip the tutorial at that point. I logged back in, back in my starting city, and this time just went and picked up my (free, wimpy, bc of the current free event) starter ship.

I opened up my map and checked the navigation to New Babbage, the city where the current event - letting you fly a changing selection of the game's many ships for free each day - is actually taking place. "Oh good," I thought. "It set the route, I guess that means my ship can make the trip." The fuel calculation seemed to be bugged, I couldn't figure out how to actually read it to double check if the amounts worked out, but I figured if there's a problem I'll just self destruct and start over.

I arrive at Microtech, the planet on which New Babbage is located. "Weird," I think, "Why is New Babbage all the way on the other side of the planet. Okay I'll just set up another little hop and -" it turns out my ship did Not have enough quantum fuel to make it all the way there. I briefly consider self destructing but it's fine, I am at the right planet at least, I'll just fly down manually to whatever I'm closest to where I can refuel and then hop from there. I check my map, which is frustrating to use if you aren't searching for a specific location, because as soon as you zoom in close enough to make out any locations it wants to jump to just showing the map of your ship. After fighting it for a while I find that I'm basically directly above an emergency shelter, which seems fitting. And it has ship services, perfect.

I fly down to the emergency shelter, which is just a little solitary building in a clearing in the woods. I hop out of my ship, it's absolutely gorgeous. I'm floored by how it really feels like I just hopped out of my dinky little ship into an actual forest clearing. I go looking around the shelter. I can't figure out how to refuel, but it also doesn't even have real landing pads, so I assume the map info was wrong and I can't actually do that here. More importantly, the shelter has the space version of Monster and Slim Jims, which I need bc this has taken so long I'm actually getting hungry and thirsty in game. I decide her diet is enough evidence for me to say the game has agreed with me that my character is trans. Anyway the fuel thing is fine, there's a mining outpost nearby, I'll try there.

I fly over to the mining outpost, which actually has landing pads, one of which is even occupied. I hail them to get landing permission, which it says I have, but it doesn't direct me to a pad how I expect. I just go and land on the smallest one anyway, it's fine, maybe that's how this works idk. I go and look in one of the buildings here, it seems like it's been looted by someone else, but I do find a free multi-tool, which will be useful for doing cargo, which I plan on being my main focus. I mean, even though accounts are gonna get wiped in a few weeks with 4.0, but whatever it's fine.

I still can't figure out how to refuel. At this point I realize I just don't know how to refuel and it's probably not a matter of not being able to find a terminal to do it at. I look it up and you just do it from your personal menu like accepting missions or using your map. Duh. I go to get back in my ship but I'm clipping through it. Thankfully if I walk up to the cockpit I can clip close enough to the pilot's chair I can still hop in, and that works fine. I finally refuel, I fly back out of atmosphere, I hop to New Babbage.

My computer lags hard as fuck. Between the shaders compiling bc it's my first time there and the number of people there bc it's the current Main City bc of the event I just sit back and wait a moment until I can do anything. It's night time and the city all sprawling out beneath me with lights on legitimately looks like a real city and I'm floored. I figure out where the hangars are and fly over, requesting access. I'm still very bad at flying so I take too long entering and they close the doors right as I get there. I get into a bit of a back and forth with flight control loading slowly before I get the doors to open and I still scrape something going through. I make a mental note to take off and land in the 3rd person camera from now on.

I store my loaner ship and head out into the city's transit station. I check which way the expo hall is and deliberately go the other way, I want to explore and also see if I can sell any of the stuff I looted on my impromptu stopovers. When I'm on the transit and I come out of the underground part and see the city all lit up at night I actually gasp. It got to me, okay. The actual to scale science fiction city with working (in a sense of the word) transit got to me.

I look around the shops. I can't sell any of my shit so I just drop it on the floor bc the game doesn't have interactable garbage cans. It's 4:30am at this point so I just log out rather than go the rest of the way to the expo hall.

It was - incredible. One of the most engrossing experiences I've ever had in a game. I'm absolutely buying an actual starter ship tonight after work. It is definitely in an alpha state. Playing the game makes it extremely obvious that they have spent the past 12 years of dev time doing early work and then throwing it out over and over again bc they had so much money there was no one to say just get it done about anything. I don't think I could tell anyone they should check it out unless I know they value basically the exact same things in a game I do.

But I want to believe, you know? I think just the idea of Star Citizen has already changed space games, and I think if they do actually manage to ever get close to a released product it's going to be so special. I think it's already something so special. It's just also extremely broken and unfinished. But oh my god, you know. I don't know how else to explain it.

I've talked before about how highly I value a sense of "realness" in a game, that feeling that a game takes place in a real, living space. Even broken and incredibly unfinished I don't know if I've ever played a game that felt as real as Star Citizen.

[dragonjesterwrites]

Hey, y'all! I keep saying I'm writing, and I've got my list of projects showing progress on them, but I haven't actually posted any actual writing in like, an eon.

So I wrote up a quick little drabble for y'all! A little hurt/comfort piece that's nonetheless quite sweet, I think. Hope y'all enjoy 😌

~~~~~

“...Dewdrop?”

You opened your eyes to blink sleepily up at Sun, and he removed his fingers from where he'd been carding them through your hair to push the tips of his forefingers together in nervous question.

“Do you… really think I'm pretty, a-and all those other things you say about my appearance?”

“Absolutely.” You said without hesitating, reaching up to take one hand and bring it to your lips. You gently unfolded his fingers where he'd curled them together, and pressed a chaste kiss to the center of his palm, breathing in the scent of silicone and crayons. “Pretty.” Another kiss. “Cute as hell.” Another. “Breathtaking.”

Flustered static hissed out from his voicebox, but it was quieter than usual, and you set his hand on your jaw so that you could look up at him. “You disagree?”

Sun squirmed a little, not quite meeting your gaze, fingers tapping your jaw. “It's just that… I'm objectively not.”

“Says who?”

“Most everyone, except you and Moon.” He mumbled.

You let out a quiet hum. “Do you think Moon's ugly?”

“N-no!” Sun stammered, before sighing and dropping his other hand to the floor with a clickety-clunk. “But that's– still subjective. Not that I think he's objectively ugly–! But… other people…”

You thought for a moment, nibbling at your lip. You could go with the obvious advice; don't listen to them, they're jackasses, what do they know anyway?

But you didn't think any of that would make him feel better, somehow.

Then an idea seized you. You didn't know if it would erase the hurt, but it would at least make him laugh, and what better medicine than laughter?

Slowly, you spoke. “What… exactly… do they think is so objectively ugly?”

“On me, you mean?” Sun asked in a small voice, and you gave a single nod. “Well…”

He raised his free hand to his face, fingers touching down on his grin. “For starters, I've been told I have a creepy grin… yellow teeth, too many teeth, uneven, too wide…”

As he continued, moving onto his nose and how big it was, you began to lift yourself out of his lap– he turned his gaze to focus you, but kept on, albeit with a note of uncertainty in his voice.

Promptly, before he could figure out your plan, you clambered into his lap, and ignored the way he did then come to a stuttering stop, as you wrapped your legs criss-cross around his hips and took a hold of his faceplate by the rays. 

“S-Sunshine–? What are you doing?” he asked, bewilderment somewhat obscured by flustered static.

“Oh, nothing.” You said innocently, thumbing over his rays and making him shiver. “Keep going.”

“Wh– I– okay.” He brought his hand back up, and brushed lightly over his cheek. “They said… my colors are faded– mm!”

You couldn't hold back your smile at the little squeak that escaped him as you kissed his big beautiful grin, savoring the scent of markers and lemon wipes. 

But you didn't linger too long, breaking away only to press a dozen more kisses in quick succession over his carved teeth and lips. A proper burst of garbled, flustered static escaped his voicebox, his faceplate vibrating under your lips, and you grinned yourself as you pulled away, examining his faceplate for your next target. What had he said? Nose.

“T-they said– ahh– ehehehe, Sunshiiine!” He giggled, voicebox buzzing as you began to plaster kisses all over his nose, focusing especially on the cute little craters. “What are you doing–?”

“Nothing!” You insisted, before going right back to it.

His giggling rang pleasantly in your ears, and two large, warm hands settled on your hips and squeezed. “I am trying to lay out my insecurities��”

“So go ahead.” You replied, slightly breathless by now but still beaming at him.

He squinted at you, rays fluttering in amusement,  and there was a brief pause before his voicebox buzzed again with the beginning of speech. “As I was saying– agh!”

You tackled him to the ground, pinning him there and kissing his faceplate all over in a flurry of smooches while he squealed and laughed and kicked his legs in mock protest.

“Sss-suh-sun-shiiine!”

“So, so pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous–” You continued between kisses and giggles of your own. “The most perfect, radiant ray of sunshine that ever lived–”

You continued on until he became incoherent with garbled static giggling, the happy, flustered noises punctuated occasionally by squeaks and squeals when your kisses ventured over to his sensitive rays.

With a grin that wrinkled your nose, you finished up by nuzzling against him in one last burst of energy, then collapsed onto his chest and squeezed him tight.

He returned the tight hug, body still twitching with little static giggles that burst out from his voicebox.

You continued to rub up against him as the pair of you laid there, tangled comfortably together on the living room rug, washed in dappled gold by the warm light of the afternoon sun as it set behind the trees in your yard, and purring took the place of laughter. His hand returned to your hair, and he brushed through it with his fingers, gentle and soft and sweet.

[hollownekomata]

//various updates:

finally set up a thread tracker with Notion, so I can keep everything in check a little better;

the starters from this post and the prompts (still open in case you're interested!) will probably be released during the weekend, I plan to use tomorrow afternoon to make progress with the art event + maybe another small comic thing because I'm absolutely obsessed with Miele and zombie!Rose right now I don't make the rules I'm sorry-

the other two cooperative arrancars are ready story-wise, but finding the time for a full-blown illustration is... difficult, so I might just throw them here with only a portrait to their name;

will revise my yōkai arc knowledge;

I guess I will start looking into how to make a decent promo/master post with appropriate graphics...

[cheeriecherrymain]

Okay,okay,our lovely writer,what do you think about Viktor and an artist s/o who adores him and shows it through sneakily creating a life-size scuplture of him for the Undercity to remind them they have someone looking out for them,even if in Piltover?

I kind of meshed painting and sculpting because I....don't really know how sculpting works. I might doodle a shitty picture of this at some point though.

Requests are open my loves (both SFW/MSFW)

---

Viktor x Reader

-Viktor doesn’t realize at first where you’ve been sneaking off to. He knows you’re going somewhere, and every time he catches you, you say it’s ‘to work on art’. He’s a bit confused as to why you won’t just show him what you’re working on - you’ve shown him all your other works in progress.

-What’s so different about this one?

-Many things, apparently. For starters, you’re not working in your usual studio, surrounded by bright natural light and with access to every imaginable medium. He comes by to visit on one of his rare free afternoons, only to run into one of your artist friends, who informs him that she hasn’t seen you in a couple of days.

-Informs him that you packed up a bunch of paints into a backpack, and took off in the direction of the undercity.

-He starts worrying the moment he realizes where you are. He knows that not everything about his home is bad - knows that there are a lot of good people, who are smart and thoughtful and kind. People who wouldn’t bat an eyelash at you, and would leave you be to do whatever it is you’re doing.

-It’s the less than savory characters he’s stressed about. The select few who would take advantage of you, if the opportunity arose. The few who were beyond desperate, looking for an easy way to put a couple cents in their pocket.

-He doesn’t even know what part of the undercity you’re in, and he knows there’s no sense in looking. If he were to ask around, it would only draw more attention to you, and that’s the last thing he wants.

-All he hopes for is that you’ll go undetected long enough to come home to him, where he can hopefully talk some sense into you.

—

-You do end up coming home, late into the evening, smelling of pollution and paint fumes, covered in smacks of colour from head to toe. 

-You’re obviously startled when you stumble across him on the way to the bathroom, seated comfortable in your little shared lounge, reading one of the books you’d suggested to him. You freeze in the doorway, like a deer in headlights, as he glances up at you.

-You know you’ve been caught.

-You know he’s displeased.

- “I know what this looks like-” you begin, but he’s quick to hold a hand up to shush you. You bite the inside of your cheek, indignantly setting your hands on your hips.

- “You’ve been going to the undercity,” he states, bluntly. “You’ve been going to the undercity, unaccompanied, and without telling anyone. Despite the warnings I’ve given you about how unsafe it is there - especially for someone like you!”

-You want to argue with him, to push back against his nagging, even though you know he’s got a point. You know that you’re an easy target. Even with your old, paint-covered clothes on, you’re too pristine, too done up, to have come from anywhere other than Piltover.

- “I had a good reason,” you grumble, tactfully avoiding his gaze. “It was supposed to be a surprise, a whole thing, but…”

-You sigh, your posture suddenly relaxing and all the fight in you dissipating. Frustrated as he may be, you know that Viktor only wants you to be safe, no matter where you go. You know that if something were to happen to you - something you could have prevented, no less…it would ruin him.

-Tentatively, you hold your hand out to him, still covered in dried pigments. He eyes you warily, his gaze flicking up to your face.

- “I’ll show you what I’ve been working on,” you clarify, wiggling your fingers. “It’s mostly done, anyways. And better viewed at night. Now come on.”

-He takes your hand.

—

-An hour later, the two of you are carefully skulking through various alleyways, avoiding pipes and puddles and a multitude of leaks, glowing liquids of questionable origin and little heaps of junk. Even one or two people, most of whom pay you no mind.

-You practically vibrating with excitement, the closer you seem to get to…wherever it is you’re bringing him. Your fingers knit through his, carefully tugging him along in the dark, making sure neither of you trip and fall face first into the walkway.

-He’s just about to ask you if you’re nearing your destination, when suddenly, you stop. So abruptly that he nearly collides with your back, despite his casual pace. He frowns down at you for a second, before his eyes adjust a little more to the lack of light, and he’s able to follow your gaze.

-Able to see what you’re looking at.

-The walls, mostly, are what catches his attention first. Barely glowing where they start, almost seeming to appear out of thin air. They sweep and ooze forward on the flat surface, brightening as they grow thicker and thicker as they twist closer to their destination.

-He recognizes the painting style, of course - it’s yours. Your distinct line techniques, combined with the rough texture of your brush style. He’s able to pick out a couple of different mediums you’ve used, to bend and burst and haze the colours in such a way that makes it look like the tendrils you’ve created are alive.

-Curling around each other like wires, yet pulsing with light almost like they’re breathing.

-You tug on his hand again, pulling him further down the alleyway, moving slower than before as to allow him to watch your art twist and curve around the architecture it’s painted on.

-Until finally, you come to a clearing. Just as unkempt as the area you’d been, it’s an intersection of six different walkways, a jagged circle, about twenty feet in diameter. He glances around, his eyes following the tendrils down the walls and across the ground - all heading inwards from each different path.

-Until they convene in the center.

-Where stands a metal statue, abstract in nature yet welded and twisted so perfectly. Painted with love and attention, in much the same style as the glow that led you both here, only this time it’s so bright it’s nearly blinding.

-You’ve left out his features, leaving the shape up to interpretation and curiosity, but he knows. He can tell in the way you’ve shaped it, and in the way the metal man so carefully holds his creation.

-It’s him, and the hexcore.

-It’s vague, but he knows.

- “You…made this?” he asks, so softly that you can barely hear him. He takes a few steps closer, trailing his eyes over every curve and detail of the sculpture.

- “I did,” you say, quite pleased with yourself. “I thought the undercity would do well to remember someone who’s out there, working his ass off to make things better: searching for answers and looking for ways to find peace.”

-You move towards him, linking your arms together as you come to stand by his side.

- “I know it’s not much,” you sigh. “I know that…my art probably won’t change anything. I know that a lot of people won’t know the significance of the piece, and won’t see the detail and the love that’s gone into it. But…it can offer them a little slice of light in this dark place, if nothing else. It can be a place where they don’t have to worry about the shadows that follow them. I hope.”

-He carefully hooks his cane into the crook of his elbow, and reaches up to cup your jaw, his thumb slowly tracing over the curve of your cheek, regarding you with the utmost admiration and fondness.

- “Thank you,” he murmurs, quiet enough that only you can hear. “You say your art won’t change anything, but it has. You have. You’ve made the world a little bit brighter, because of this.”

-His lips meet yours in tender expression, warm and gentle and familiar.

-You’ve made his world brighter.

[aching-tummies]

RP-Starter: Hooked

Inspiration: Crochet hooks

This one's for all the navel fans out there. I've been dreaming of this scenario for weeks and finally managed to type it up after indulging in the real thing alone for a while. I have the hooks, I just need another set of hands to do what I want with all these hooks.

Closed-mouth groans greet your ears as you come home. Following the noises brings you to the living room. I'm reclined on the couch, lap covered in a tangled mess of yarn and a project in-progress. My hook-caddy rests on the seat to my left, armrest to my right. My hands aren't working on the project, as they should be. Instead, both of my hands are resting on my belly--unusually domed outward. My shirt has been bunched up, framing the distended swell and accentuating it even more.

"Ooohh…nnngh….mmmmph…" I moan as I press my fingers all over my belly. With each pressing, you can tell that my stomach is packed tight as my fingers don't sink in as much as they should. The unhappy, constant grumbling from my insides is also a give-away that there's something filling it all up and making things really uncomfortable.

My eyes find yours.

"Nnngh…w-welcome home, babe." I mutter. "Phew…nnngh…stomach is taking a long time to process today. Whatever's in here has been in here for the last four hours and only now decides it's going to kick up a fuss." I mutter, patting my distended belly for emphasis and mewling in discomfort at the achey reverberations from the slapping.

A devious smirk stretches on your face as you approach the couch. A silver glint catches your eye and you reach for the conveniently-placed tools. My crochet hook case included space for lace-hooks--needle-like, milimetre or less in diameter, rounded at the end just enough to not pierce when it jabs into flesh--not easily, at least. You pick up two, a stray lace hook that I likely used to get at a stray strand of something, haphazardly left on top of the caddy rather than inserted back into the holder. The other is the 3.5mm that I've been working with. Gripping one hook in each hand, you get to work.

Using the 3.5 as something like forceps, you dig it into my navel. I flinch, squealing as the cool metal prods at my overly-sensitive navel. You advance, knee coming up to straddle my legs as you reach in with the lace-hook and begin to poke around, swirling it in the deep cavern that is my sensitive innie, using the 3.5 to push and pull flesh out of the way as you try to find a good view of the deepest part of my core.

My stomach gurgles angrily, intestines indignant at being poked so harshly with the hooks.

You snarl, still unable to see the bottom of my navel. A new hook joins yours in the search, me having grabbed a 3.0mm. I take over with the 3.5 and use them to pry my navel open for your scrutiny. You poke around with the lace needle, reaching over to free another from the holder.

"Oooh…nnng…" Open-mouthed groans and mewls reach your ears as you piston the lace hooks one right after the other, scratching and poking at the deepest parts of my navel. "Nnngh…b-babe…c-carefull. I'm s-so full…i-it's r-really sensitive right now." I murmur.

You continue to poke around, stretching the sensitive flesh of my navel to uncover the hiiden folds in the flesh, poking and prodding with the hooks as you do. My intestines grumble angrily after particularly sharp jabs, clearly disturbed by your actions.

Send me your best responses--where do we go from here?

[ro-nikk]

Movie

Film industry: ' Bounce Marley: One Love' Gets Together $7.4 Million on Friday, 'Madame Web' Falls Behind With $4.3 Million kingsley ben adir sway marley one love Central Pictures/Everett Assortment

Central's "Sway Marley: One Love" proceeded with its run as film industry pioneer through the particular six-day occasion outline, including $7.4 million Friday from 3,539 areas to knock its homegrown count to $25.3 million. The reggae legend's biopic could even surpass Sony's superhero film "Madame Web," which brought in $4.3 million from 4,013 theaters on Friday, after six days. North American take for the Wonder Comics variation presently remains at $12.5 million.

Both films opened on Valentine's Day and hope to continue their momentum through President's Day. On Wednesday, "One Love" established itself with an impressive $14 million, helped along by a few high-end large-format theaters (Madame Web has the majority, though). However the Reinaldo Marcus Green-coordinated show landed unremarkable surveys, it reverberated with early crowds, capturing an "A" grade from assessor Film Score. Principal caused a stir when it drop-kicked the film from an additional honors accommodating January date to the February occasion, yet the film appears to have tracked down an energetic crowd in its new right on the money the schedule. "One Love" conveys a $70 million creation spending plan and extra circulation and promoting costs. The projected six-day homegrown introduction north of $40 million, in addition to a significant worldwide total, is certainly not a terrible spot to "One Love." Given Marley's global appeal, the film is a play for international audiences. It should continue attracting crowds the next few weeks to not stress over a thing.

"One Love" stars Kingsley Ben-Adir as Bob Marley and Lashana Lynch as Rita Marley. The component tracks the performer's European and African visit, as well as the creation of his milestone collection "Mass migration."

"Madame Web" scored far more detestable surveys and some horrendous crowd scores (a "C+" through Film Score). Half a month prior, the independent comic book transformation had been projecting a six-day complete north of $30 million; presently, it'll probably complete nearer to $20 million. It's an unpropitious start up for an undertaking that was logical imagined and created as an establishment starter.

However Sony is a piece less shower with its superhuman financial plans than contenders at Disney and Warner Brothers., a $80 million creation financial plan and extra showcasing costs aren't precisely an unassuming speculation set-up for a secure return. Furthermore, memes that refer to Sony's less-than-stellar track record among superhero fans reinforce the rejection of "Madame Web," making it practically a separate online culture (see: Morbius, a vampire action film starring Jared Leto "Madame Web" might not be able to overcome the negative publicity.

Dakota Johnson stars in "Madame Web" as a that paramedic she has visionary capacities and starts to safeguard a threesome of young people from the wall-creeping executioner that killed her mom. Sydney Sweeney, Tahar Rahim, Isabela Merced, Celeste O'Connor, Emma Roberts, Adam Scott and Zosia Mamet ("Young ladies") likewise star. S.J. Clarkson coordinates.

"Argylle" will probably tumble to third place, extending a 32% fall in its third end of the week. The production produced by Apple Studios has proven to be the year's first well-known failure. The film, which has a big cast and cost the tech company more than $200 million, won't even make $40 million in the US in its first 17 days of release.

Even after its holiday debut, Universal's "Migration" is still challenging for third place. The Brightening creation ought to push to $116 million homegrown as the day progressed. Theaters will at last get another high-profile energized film for family crowds with "Kung Fu Panda 4" on Walk 8.

Understand Occasion's arrival of the religious television series "The Picked" could push "Wonka" out of the best five in its tenth few days of delivery. The Timothée Chalamet melodic keeps on being a reasonable attract an extremely peaceful commercial center, logical adding another $4 million or so through the four-day occasion outline. Homegrown count ought to before long hit $210 million, somewhat away from outperforming "Insect Man and the Wasp: Quantumania" ($214 million) to turn into the seventh-most noteworthy netting North American arrival of 2023.

[owlzer]

An important thing to keep in mind when you are doing digital prototyping is to consider your reasons for each prototype that you make. - Fullerton (ch8, pg241)

Although there is an obvious main reason of why I am making this prototype being IGB120. However, I actually have very little experience with game design. So this rapid digital prototyping has served as a great learning experience. I have learned how to use GDevelop 5, make assets, use visual coding, and playtest. I have been able to develop a wide range of skills in a short amount of time. Although I still have a lot to learn, I can still feel my improvement with each prototype as I continue to grow as a developer.

Week 8 - Racer Development Progress 3

Playtesting

During the playtest I got some very eye opening feedback on how I can greatly improve this game. Although the playtester enjoyed the assets and theme, there were some major concerns that they wanted me to address. First of all, was that there was no gameplay loop. There is no way for the player to restart the game without reopening it which quickly became a problem when a playtester died very early on and the game played on without the player's ship. They enjoyed the cola powerup however, it didn't feel that impactful and wanted it to feel faster and not be so easy to get. Coins also seemed less impactful as they appeared in one straight line and there was no way for the player to miss collecting them. The game also broke some of the player' immersion as the background didn't move. This was a new problem that was created by changing a highway to an ocean as this is normally not required as the background looked like it was moving due to the moving trees on the sides. However, as I have moving clouds and birds, this no longer works and the Player ship feels static. Additionally, they also mentioned that the speed of certain objects felt wrong which also broke their immersion (e.g. the clouds moving too fast). Although there were a lot of things for my game to improve on, the playtester still had a fun experience with my game which let me know that I was still heading in the right direction.

Development update

Wow there is a lot to go through here. So for starters, I really needed to fix my loop code that I talked about in my first development post. Although it did work, it was very messy and as I wanted to create set patterns that would spawn, I needed to make it more optimised. Once that was done, I created a new spawning system that would either randomly spawn one random object in a random lane or a random set pattern. This created way more diversity and challenge, which my game was clearly lacking. Speeds of everything got adjusted to feel more immersive and the cola powerup now makes every go at 3 times the speed which feels way more impactful. The game also felt awkward at the start as there is a delay before anything spawns so I made my own workaround (as I couldn't find a way to set a timer to 2 seconds at the start of the game) to get rid of that initial delay. Creating the moving background wasn't easy but I managed to do it using duplicates of the background that move down and teleported back up to create the effect. This was one of my biggest challenges of making the game so far as I really had to think outside of the box to make it work. Finally, to finish the game off I made a title and game over screen. The game over screen displays the player's points for them to see.

References:

Fullerton, T. (2018). Game Design Workshop: A Playcentric Approach to Creating

Innovative Games. ProQuest Ebook. Retrieved

from:  https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/qut/reader.action?docID=5477698

[thranduilland]

for the sentence starters: 'why does it feel like this is goodbye?'

Well. Things to note: this is Sandman and Avengers Crossover Infinity War (but it's been moved to 2023, rather than... 2018, I think was the canon setting?). And this ends on No Happy Ending, because the assumed Happy Ending occurs in the Avengers side of canon (the Blip)

It started out like any other day, and it had been progressing like any other day. Dream had arrived early that morning to greet Hob with a kiss as he rose from his bed. Hob’d talked Dream into showering with him, as if it ever took much convincing, really. They’d gone down to the New Inn where Hob’d had his coffee and his breakfast like he always did, and they’d talked about their plans for the coming weekend; they were going to watch a movie, then spend the rest of the day at the beach, any beach, anywhere in the world so long as it had sun.

That had been the plan.

Afterwards, they’d gone back upstairs, sat down on the couch to continue Dream’s ‘reintegration into society’, as Hob called filling his head with all the movies and TV shows that he’d missed in the cage. They’d already watched the Lord of the Rings, Star Wards, various Disney and Pixar films. Today’s movie of choice was Peter Pan, which Hob thought Dream would like and so far he has been.

“I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!”

Dream jolts, reaching up too press his hands against his head as something shifts. It’s not pain, it doesn’t ache, but there is… an absence, a change. A lack where their should not be. A hole where once there was something. He doesn’t understand what is happening.

“I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!”

“Dream?” he struggles to raise his head at the sound of Hob’s voice, feels immeasurably less than he had just moments ago, and he doesn’t understand what is happening. “Dream? I-I don’t-“ Hob stutters, his words distorting to Dream’s own ears but finally he raises his head, finds Hob swaying on the couch beside him. There is screaming outside, the sound sneaking in through the open windows, terrified screams, horrified screams, grieving screams. “Dream!” Hob calls, urgent now. Dream lets his gaze flick back to him and his widen as Hob’s skin seems to have paled so dramatically as to match Dream’s own.

“Hob?” he asks, as they both look down at Hob’s hand, staring in confusion and terror as the tips of his fingers start to turn to dust. “Hob!”

“I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!”

Suddenly, Hob throws himself forward, clutching at Dream, tears falling like rain from his eyes. Dream clings to him, his hands twisting in the fabric of Hob’s shirt as he feels Hob’s fingers scrambling across his chest, unable to find purchase as they crumble to dust.  

“Dream! Dream, I don’t want to go! I don’t want to go! I don’t want to go!” Hob sobs, desperate and terrified and Dream can do nothing. With every second that passes he feels further diminished, like pieces of him are chipping themselves away never to return, and even as he tries to cling to Hob, tries to will him to stay, he can feel Hob slipping away too. “I don’t want to go! I don’t want to go!”

“I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!”

In 1689, in the moments before Hob had said that Death was a mug’s game and that he still had so much to live for, Dream had thought to himself ‘why does it feel like this is goodbye?’ So, so certain had he been that Hob would not wish to go on living, but he’d been proven wrong, and Hob had carried right on anyway, despite his pain, despite his losses.

“I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!”

“I don’t want to go! I don’t want to go!”

“Stay with me, Hob, please? Don’t-don’t go where I cannot follow. Please?” he begs, crushing Hob to him as tightly as he can but it doesn’t seem to matter as he can feel Hob fading away right in front of his eyes, beneath his hands. “Hob, please-!”

“I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!”

“I’m sorry,” Hob whispers as he turns to dust. Dream clutches at it, fingers scrabbling through the dust that was once Hob Gadling, but the dust is all that is left of his love.

--

The humans call it ‘the Snap’, some parts of the Universe call it the Devastation.

Dream clutches the vial of dust around his neck and acknowledges it for what it really is.

The Last Goodbye.  

[doubleddenden]

Sometimes I see Poketubers talking about wanting yet ANOTHER Kanto remake- I guess Let's Go was just that forgettable/bad

Idk, there's only a handful of acceptable instances for Kanto to come back any time soon imo

RBY and FRLG ports. Self explanatory

GSC or HGSS port. Also self explanatory.

Johto reremake

And now for the two HUGE game changers

Legends

Ideally it connects both Kanto and Johto. Set at any point in history, but I think the past would just be more interesting to explore. One instance could go over the Burned Tower in Johto and overall another 200 or more years ago past setting, or another could even be helping Oak in his youth explore the regions.

Complete overhaul

Now this one is the one that basically just makes it barely recognizeable, and we'd STILL want Johto at some point.

The idea can be boiled down to fleshing it out to match closer to its real life counterparts. Saffron, for instance, barely resembles a city, let alone Tokyo- here, it'd need a major overhaul with trains, parks, busy streets, huge buildings with lots of lights- you'd probably connect it to Celadon as well. A Shinjuku area, too, would need to be made. And that's just the tip of the ice berg.

Basically cities, towns, routes, and dungeons would need to be brought to the actual 21st century. Rather than everything being modeled after a barely functional game from 96 and never updated, now everything would feel lived in and alive. No more 3 building towns with every building facing the same way, no more towns basically being indistinguishable from another, no more bland routes- they don't need hyper realistic graphics, but they should try to look like how people envisioned the games as kids or how the anime depicted it, maybe with a bit more mysticism and explorable areas.

Routes would merely be a suggestion and progression way more open- so you could probably get from Viridian to Celadon if you went through the trees eastward. Flat maps now have hills- HGSS kinda does this, so you could probably see Cerulean from up high after busting out of Mt Moon. Mountains no longer look like Legos and can be climbed, tall grass would ACTUALLY be tall grass, some creeks here and there to get access to more water types sooner, etc.

And this one would make Kanto purists angry: include later gen Pokemon.

This is extensive to the following:

Baby pokemon introduced later

Evolutions introduced later

Pokemon found in Kanto in GSC and HGSS, such as Houndour or Shinx

Pokemon found in Johto, because it's literally right next door

Regional variants- because why not? Do like Let's Go and have them be trades if you must. However, I think making Kantonian variants would also be a must to truly refresh things.

Convergent species- we only have 3 so far, but Kanto could have more.

Megas

New evolutions or forms for Kantonian or Johtonian pokemon, or for variants and convergents from other regions. This would ideally include something new for the STARTERS.

And of course, just more Pokemon from other regions. I'm just saying, Unova lost it's purity in BW2, let's do the same to this Kanto.

Overall, your pokedex is getting a MAJOR overhaul, because those 151 just aren't enough anymore and most of the og 151 were fixed or made better later. That and they're boring now. You also need it to balance the dex better and a break from poison types and psychic supremacy.

I would especially suggest adding beta Pokemon that were scrapped from gen 1 and 2 and not clearly reworked into something else into the games as a booster shot to the pokedex as well.

Now lastly, the big doozy: it cannot rehash the same barely existing story. Treat this as the Threequel after GSC or later. Do not rewrite it or replace rivals like in Let's Go, this is now a brand new game. As such, a shake up to gym leaders and Elite 4 is expected.

So for instance, the elite 4 can mix Johto's final product with a bit of Space World's demo elite 4. So, we could bring in Misty as an Elite 4 member and kick out Bruno, and maybe even replace Misty with her sisters from the anime, or replace LT Surge with that lady that replaced him in the anime.

Hell, embrace the changes of the franchise instead of plugging your ears and screaming as you pretend it doesn't happen. Add a fairy and dark gym, finally finish that area in Vermillion, add a couple of towns north of Cerulean and Pewter, add in travel to Sevii Islands, bring in some characters from other regions to visit, and now you have a very fresh experience that isn't just a plain rehash with a fresh coat of paint.

Of course, keep riding and following pokemon, bring back the Safari Zone, add in a camera akin to LA or SV, add in and expand on character customization, and you're looking at an amazing, new, and *technically* still Kanto experience. This doesn't even touch what I'd do with Johto.

In other words, a barely Kanto game even I can stomach.

But I will say, at this point, this does sound like a fun idea to basically make a new region out of old inspiration- a true Kanto and especially Tokyo inspired region.

Or we could just take the easy route and not request the 4th fucking Kanto games.

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER TWO

“i want something that i know is real”

pairings — judexblack!girl

genres — fluff, slow burn, workplace romance (she’s a pt)

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 6k

summary — y/n, a rising physiotherapist, has just been promoted to work with real madrid's men's team. after a difficult breakup, she's determined to keep things professional. but when jude bellingham, the club's charming new star, sets his sights on her, maintaining boundaries becomes harder than ever. can she resist the pull, or will she risk everything for a love she swore she’d never fall for again?

an — slowly but surely we are getting there. thank you for all the support <3

masterlist

as the season progressed, the days seemed to blend together in a harmonious rhythm of training sessions, matches, and quiet moments between. the physio room had become a familiar haven, its atmosphere punctuated by the soft hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. 

y/n and jude had gradually found their own rhythm, their interactions growing more relaxed and natural as they navigated their professional boundaries. the early days of the season had been a whirlwind of activity and adjustment, but now, there was a comforting routine in their interactions. 

mornings began with the sound of cleats on the pitch and the soft murmur of players discussing their strategies. by the time y/n entered the physio room, the hustle of the training ground had already started to settle into a quieter pace. jude, ever enthusiastic, would often linger nearby, his presence a constant, cheerful distraction.

their conversations had evolved from brief exchanges about player injuries to more personal topics, shared over quick lunches or fleeting moments in between sessions. the more time they spent together, the more y/n began to notice the little things about jude—his easy smile, the way he would run a hand through his hair when he was deep in thought, and the genuine curiosity he had about her life outside of work.

one crisp morning, as y/n was reviewing her schedule, jude appeared with his usual bright grin, holding a fresh cup of coffee. “good morning, y/n! did you know that today’s practice is supposed to be the hardest of the week?”

y/n looked up, her smile tinged with amusement. “i’m aware. i’m just trying to mentally prepare myself for the onslaught of injuries that might follow.”

jude chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “well, if you need any help, you know where to find me. just don’t make me run extra laps for it.”

their playful banter continued, weaving through the daily routines and moments of downtime. jude’s persistent charm and y/n’s gradual opening up created a dynamic that was both comfortable and exciting. their conversations, once tentative, had grown into a dance of mutual curiosity and warmth.

one evening, after a particularly grueling day of training, they found themselves alone in the physio room. the soft light from the setting sun cast a golden hue over the space, creating a serene backdrop for their quiet exchange.

jude leaned against the counter, watching y/n as she meticulously prepared her supplies for the next session. “you know,” he began casually, “i’ve been thinking. we’ve spent quite a bit of time together, but there’s still so much i don’t know about you.”

y/n paused, glancing up with a curious smile. “oh? like what?”

jude’s eyes sparkled with genuine interest. “well, for starters, what’s your favorite way to unwind after a long day?”

y/n’s eyes softened as she considered the question. “i usually like to read or listen to music. It’s a good way to relax and forget about the day’s stresses.”

jude nodded thoughtfully. “that sounds nice. i’d probably just end up watching highlights from the day’s matches or trying to beat my own high scores on my video games.”

their laughter filled the room, the sound light and easy. as the season continued, their moments of connection grew deeper. they discovered shared interests, swapped stories about their lives, and found solace in each other’s company. 

by the time the evening approached, the warmth of their growing friendship was a comforting presence in their lives. their interactions were now filled with a sense of ease, a mutual appreciation that spoke volumes about the connection they were building.

in the quiet moments between sessions and the shared laughter over coffee breaks, the foundation of their bond continued to strengthen. what had started as a professional relationship was slowly transforming into something more personal, each interaction bringing them closer together.

the late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting a warm, golden glow across the physio room. the gentle light created a serene atmosphere, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions brewing within y/n. as she meticulously worked on eduardo camavinga’s knee, her thoughts drifted away from the task at hand, her mind consumed by recent interactions with jude.

y/n’s fingers moved with practiced precision, yet her focus was elsewhere. jude’s smile, which had become a frequent visitor in her thoughts, lingered vividly in her mind. she recalled the warmth of his embrace after the game, an unexpected gesture that had left her heart fluttering long after. each day spent with him felt like an intricate dance, a delicate balance between maintaining professionalism and navigating the deepening connection that was growing between them.

eduardo, ever perceptive to her moods, noticed the distraction in her eyes. with a playful glint in his gaze, he decided to tease her. “you’re awfully quiet today,” he remarked, his tone light and teasing, meant to draw her out of her reverie.

y/n glanced up momentarily, her lips curving into a small, almost guilty smile. she quickly turned her attention back to her work, trying to maintain a façade of composure. “just concentrating,” she replied, her voice steady but betraying a hint of the internal turmoil she was feeling.

eduardo’s grin widened, sensing an opportunity. “sure you’re not thinking about someone special?”

the question caught y/n off guard, and her hands faltered for a brief moment. she resumed her work, her movements slightly more hesitant. “what makes you think that?” she asked, attempting to sound casual, though the flush creeping up her neck was a clear giveaway.

eduardo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “oh, come on. you and jude have been spending a lot of time together. it’s pretty obvious.”

the mention of jude’s name sent a jolt through y/n, her heart skipping a beat. she tried to mask her reaction, but her voice came out quicker, more high-pitched than she intended. “we’re just friends,” she said, her attempt at nonchalance failing miserably.

eduardo raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “friends, huh? because the way he looks at you doesn’t seem very... friendly.”

y/n’s attempt to maintain her professional demeanor faltered as heat surged to her cheeks. she could feel the warmth of her blush intensify, a stark contrast to the cool, clinical environment of the physio room. “eduardo, we’re professionals. nothing more,” she insisted, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her uncertainty.

eduardo chuckled, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. “ah, but that’s what makes it interesting. you can’t fool me, y/n. i see the way you blush whenever he’s around.”

y/n bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. “eduardo, you’re imagining things,” she said, though the twinkle in her eyes suggested otherwise.

eduardo’s grin only grew wider. “if you say so. but, it’s fun to watch you squirm a bit.”

as if on cue, the door to the physio room creaked open, and jude stepped inside. his gaze immediately zeroed in on the scene before him. y/n and eduardo were laughing, clearly enjoying their conversation. jude’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he took in the sight of them, his expression clouded with a mix of confusion and a tinge of irritation.

eduardo, sensing jude’s arrival, decided to turn the playful teasing up a notch. he addressed y/n in spanish, his tone light and mischievous.

“¿ves cómo le brillan los ojos cuando estás cerca de él?” eduardo leaned in and whispered,"do you see how his eyes light up when you're around?"

jude’s brow furrowed, frustration evident on his face. he wasn’t yet fluent in spanish, and the rapid exchange between y/n and eduardo left him feeling slightly out of the loop. he could sense the playful energy between them but struggled to understand the specifics, his feelings of jealousy and confusion becoming more palpable as he watched their interaction.

eduardo’s playful demeanor was in full swing as he switched to spanish, his tone light and teasing. “parece que jude no entiende lo que está pasando, ¿verdad?” he said with a grin. “looks like jude doesn’t get what’s happening, does he?”

y/n, focused on her work but with her cheeks slightly flushed, shot a nervous glance at jude before responding. “no sé de qué hablas,” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

eduardo’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. “ah, vamos, y/n. no te hagas la tonta. ¿no ves cómo te mira?” he said, leaning in closer. “come on, y/n. don’t play dumb. can’t you see how he looks at you?”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her hands momentarily faltering. she bit her lip, trying to maintain her composure. “eduardo, no es nada,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “it’s nothing.”

eduardo’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he continued, still in spanish. “¿de verdad? porque parece que hay algo más que sólo amistad.” “really? because it looks like there’s something more than just friendship.”

y/n avoided eye contact, focusing on the task at hand with renewed intensity. “estás exagerando,” she said, her tone a mix of shyness and denial. “you’re exaggerating.”

jude’s brow furrowed as he tried to follow the conversation, though his limited spanish left him grasping at the edges of their exchange. he noticed the way y/n’s cheeks turned pink and how she seemed flustered by eduardo’s words. the playful banter felt charged, and jude couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to their conversation.

“¿no te parece un poco celoso?” eduardo asked, still addressing y/n. “don’t you think he’s a bit jealous?”

y/n’s eyes widened, her blush deepening. “eduardo, basta,” she said softly, her voice tinged with embarrassment. “eduardo, stop.”

as y/n tried to deflect the conversation, jude’s sense of discomfort grew. he shifted his weight, feeling a pang of jealousy as he saw the easy camaraderie between y/n and eduardo. he wasn’t sure what was being said, but the playful tone and y/n’s reaction made him feel like an outsider.

“everything okay here?” jude interjected, his voice carrying a forced cheerfulness as he approached them.

y/n looked up at him, her eyes wide and a little guilty. “oh, jude, we were just... talking.”

jude’s gaze lingered on y/n, trying to gauge the situation. despite the lighthearted atmosphere, he felt a twinge of possessiveness. “right. well, it sounds like you two look cozy.”

eduardo chuckled, clearly enjoying the scene he had helped create. “sí, sólo estábamos bromeando,” he said with a wink. “yes, we were just joking around.”

jude’s expression softened as he took his place beside y/n, his presence a subtle reminder of his own interest. "well, i think that’s enough. y/n is mine,” he said with a playful nudge.

y/n’s heart raced at jude’s words, her shyness only adding to the warmth of the moment. she looked at him, a mixture of relief and nervous anticipation in her eyes. the playful banter between her and eduardo had made jude’s feelings more palpable, and she could sense the underlying tension as they settled into their conversation.

the room went silent, the air thick with surprise. y/n’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing a deep red. she was caught off guard by jude’s sudden declaration, her heart racing. she stammered, struggling to respond. “j-jude, i—”

eduardo’s laughter erupted, clearly delighted by the scene he had helped create. “well, that’s one way to make things clear,” he said, still chuckling as he gathered his things. “i think my session is over. thanks for everything, y/n.”

as eduardo left the room, his laughter fading into the corridor, jude’s expression softened slightly. he turned back to y/n, who was still flushed and visibly flustered. he took a step closer, his tone shifting to one of sincere concern. “i didn’t mean to make things awkward, you know. i just... i don’t know what it is, but seeing you and eduardo together, it made me realize how much i enjoy our time together.”

y/n looked up at him, her eyes meeting his with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “jude, you didn’t have to...”

jude held up his hands in a placating gesture. “i know, i know. but i guess i just wanted to let you know that, well, you’re special to me. even if it’s just as friends.”

y/n’s expression softened, her initial shock giving way to a more relaxed smile. “thanks, jude. i appreciate it. and for the record, you don’t have to worry about eduardo. he’s just... being eduardo.”

jude chuckled, his earlier tension easing as he saw her smile. “good to know. and hey, if you ever need a distraction from all the work, just let me know.”

y/n laughed softly, shaking her head. “i’ll keep that in mind.”

as jude settled into the treatment chair, the room’s atmosphere shifted back to its usual rhythm. y/n continued her work, the playful exchange leaving a lingering warmth between them. despite the earlier awkwardness, there was an undercurrent of camaraderie that hinted at the deeper connection they both felt.

jude watched her with a thoughtful expression, appreciating the calm and the easy rhythm of their interaction. “so, what’s next for us? another session, or maybe we should just... chat more?”

y/n looked up, a small, appreciative smile on her lips. “let’s just keep it simple for now. we have plenty of time to talk.”

jude nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of warmth and contentment. “sounds good to me.”

as y/n finished up, she glanced at him with a mix of warmth and anticipation. the earlier tension had dissipated, replaced by a sense of ease that spoke to the growing comfort between them. she felt a renewed sense of connection with jude, and as he prepared to leave, she couldn’t help but look forward to their next meeting. the warmth between them lingered, a promising sign of the evolving friendship they were both discovering.

the early morning light spilled into the physio room, casting long shadows that danced across the floor as y/n prepared for the day ahead. she moved with a quiet efficiency, her thoughts focused on the tasks that awaited her. the gentle hum of the equipment and the soft shuffle of her footsteps were the only sounds breaking the silence of the room.

the door swung open with an unexpected burst of energy, and jude strolled in, his usual confident grin plastered on his face. the room seemed to brighten with his presence, an infectious vitality that instantly altered the atmosphere.

“good morning, y/n!” jude’s voice was upbeat, his tone laced with a mixture of charm and enthusiasm. he took a few steps further into the room, his eyes scanning the space with a look of genuine interest.

y/n looked up from her work, a small smile forming on her lips at his exuberance. “morning, jude. what brings you here so early?”

jude leaned against the counter, his posture relaxed but his eyes twinkling with mischief. “well, i was just thinking… it’s a beautiful day outside, and it feels like the perfect opportunity to make it even better.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “and how exactly do you plan to do that?”

jude’s grin widened, and he took a few steps closer to her, his gaze locked on hers. “i was thinking maybe we could go grab a coffee after your shift. you know, just to catch up and enjoy the day a little.”

y/n’s cheeks flushed slightly, a reaction she tried to hide as she busied herself with arranging her tools. “jude, you know we have a lot of work to do. I’m sure you have training and other commitments.”

jude waved off her concern with a dismissive flick of his hand. “oh, come on. training’s not going anywhere, and neither are we. besides, it’s not every day that i get to spend time with my favorite physiotherapist.”

y/n’s eyes met his, and she could see the genuine warmth in his expression. still, she tried to maintain her professional demeanor. “i appreciate the offer, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. We should keep things professional.”

jude’s face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered, a determined spark igniting in his eyes. “come on, y/n. i promise it’ll be fun. and who knows, maybe we’ll even get to share a few laughs.”

y/n bit her lip, her resolve wavering as she saw the earnest look on jude’s face. she was caught between her desire to stay professional and the undeniable pull of his charm. “jude, I really—”

“i insist,” jude interrupted, his voice playful but firm. “consider it a challenge. if you say no, then you’re just making it more interesting.”

y/n sighed, trying to maintain her composure. “you’re relentless, you know that?”

jude’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “i like to think of it as… persistent. there’s a difference.”

before y/n could respond, the door creaked open again, and jude’s best friend, aurélien tchouaméni, walked in. he took one look at the scene before him and raised an eyebrow. “what’s all this about?”

jude straightened up, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “just trying to convince y/n to join me for coffee. she’s being stubborn.”

aurélien chuckled, glancing between jude and y/n with an amused expression. “sounds like jude’s up to his usual tricks. good luck with that, y/n.”

y/n couldn’t help but smile at aurélien’s comment. “thanks, aurélien. I might need it.”

as aurélien made his way over to the treatment table, jude leaned in a little closer to y/n, his tone dropping to a more earnest pitch. “look, y/n, i really just want to get to know you better. you’re amazing at what you do, and i’d like to spend more time with you, outside of work.”

y/n’s heart fluttered at his sincerity, but she still tried to hold her ground. “jude, it’s not just about what you want. there are boundaries we need to respect.”

jude’s expression softened, his gaze unwavering. “i get it. but just think about it, okay? i promise i’m not trying to make things complicated. i just want to see where this could go.”

y/n looked down, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and attraction. she appreciated his persistence, but the line between professional and personal was a delicate one. “i’ll think about it,” she said finally, her voice soft.

jude’s face lit up with a hopeful smile. “that’s all i ask. and who knows, maybe by the end of the day, you’ll decide that a coffee sounds like a good idea after all.”

as jude turned to leave, he cast one last, lingering glance back at y/n. the warmth in his eyes spoke volumes, and y/n couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of what might come next.

the late afternoon sun was beginning its slow descent, casting a warm, golden hue across the physio room. the light filtered through the blinds, creating a mosaic of soft shadows that danced across the floor. jude’s persistence was palpable, his enthusiasm infectious as he hovered near y/n, who was focused on her work.

jude’s eyes were bright, a mixture of playfulness and determination shining through. he clasped his hands together in a gesture of exaggerated pleading. “come on, y/n, just one coffee. please? i’ll even do a little dance if that helps.”

y/n couldn’t help but smile at his antics. her lips quirked up despite her attempt to stay stern. she was torn between laughing at his charm and sticking to her resolve. “jude, you’re acting like a child.”

jude’s face lit up with mock hopefulness, his brows raised in an almost comical display of eagerness. “exactly! i’m a big kid who wants a small favor. and besides, it’s just coffee. what’s the harm?”

y/n shook her head, trying to suppress a laugh. “fine. you win. we can go for coffee. but only because there are no official rules against us grabbing a cup around the corner.”

jude’s eyes sparkled with uncontainable joy, his smile widening into a grin that lit up his entire face. “yes! thank you, y/n! you won’t regret this, I promise!”

without another word, jude practically bounded from the room, his excitement almost tangible. his energy was so infectious that it made y/n chuckle softly as she watched him go. aurélien, who had been observing the exchange with amusement, leaned against the wall with a knowing grin.

“well, he’s certainly not shy about his intentions,” aurélien commented, shaking his head with a chuckle.

y/n laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I think he’s made his point quite clear.”

“he’s like a kid on a sugar high,” aurélien said, still grinning. “good luck with that.”

jude returned a few minutes later, now dressed in casual clothes—jeans and a hoodie—looking every bit as enthusiastic as before. his eagerness was almost palpable as he reappeared, his eyes dancing with anticipation. he barely registered the teasing laughter from aurélien and y/n, his focus solely on y/n.

“ready?” jude asked, his voice bubbling with excitement. his heart raced at the thought of spending time alone with her, away from the confines of the physio room.

y/n nodded, her smile a mixture of amusement and shyness. she was dressed in a cozy turtleneck and a trench coat, her braids elegantly tied up in a loose, sophisticated style. jude took a moment to appreciate how beautiful she looked. the way her braids framed her face, and the simple elegance of her outfit made her look effortlessly stunning. his heart fluttered as he took in the sight of her, feeling a rush of affection.

“let’s go then,” y/n said, her voice soft but tinged with a nervous excitement. she pulled her coat tighter around her as they stepped out into the cool evening air, their breath forming little clouds in the crisp temperature.

they walked side by side to the nearby coffee shop, the lively streets bustling with evening activity. jude’s eyes often darted toward y/n, savoring each moment of their one-on-one time. his thoughts were a whirlwind of excitement and nervousness, as he tried to imagine what this evening might hold.

once they reached the coffee shop, they entered into the warm, inviting space. the shop was lit with soft, ambient light, casting a cozy glow over the room. the gentle hum of conversation and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, creating a welcoming atmosphere that made it feel like a perfect retreat from the bustling street outside.

they found a corner table, the perfect spot for a quiet, intimate conversation. jude was eager to impress, his playful charm on full display. “so,” he began, his tone light and casual, “what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t gotten around to yet?”

y/n laughed softly, her cheeks still tinged with a faint blush from earlier. “well, I’ve always wanted to travel more. There are so many places I’d love to see.”

jude leaned in closer, genuinely interested. “where would you go first?”

“probably japan,” y/n replied, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “the culture, the food—it all sounds incredible.”

jude nodded, clearly enjoying the conversation. “that sounds amazing. I’ve heard the cherry blossoms are beautiful there.”

y/n smiled, her eyes meeting his. “they are. It’s one of the things on my bucket list.”

as their conversation continued, y/n couldn’t help but notice that jude hadn’t touched his coffee. she raised an eyebrow, her curiosity getting the better of her. “jude, you haven’t touched your coffee. do you not like it?”

jude’s cheeks flushed a deep red as he stammered, caught off guard. “uh, well, the truth is... i don’t really like coffee. i just wanted to spend time with you outside of work.”

y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, her heart fluttering at his confession. “you don’t like coffee? you came here just to be with me?”

jude looked down, his shyness breaking through his usual bravado. “yeah. I figured it was worth it if it meant I got to hang out with you.”

the simple yet profound honesty of his words made y/n’s cheeks warm. she felt a rush of affection and admiration for jude, touched by his genuine effort to spend time with her. “that’s really sweet, jude.”

they continued to talk, the warmth between them growing more palpable with each passing minute. y/n’s earlier reservations melted away, replaced by a growing sense of connection and comfort. as she looked at jude, she found herself increasingly drawn to his sincerity and the way he made her feel special.

jude, in turn, felt a deep sense of contentment and excitement. every shared smile and laugh seemed to draw them closer, making the evening feel like a perfect escape from the demands of their everyday lives. he cherished these moments of closeness, feeling more hopeful and excited about the future possibilities.

the evening ended with a promise of more moments like this, both of them eager to explore the growing bond between them. as they left the coffee shop, their smiles were filled with a mixture of anticipation and happiness, each feeling a renewed sense of connection that seemed to make the world around them glow a little brighter.

the season had settled into a rhythm, the days blending into a steady cadence of practice, matches, and fleeting moments of respite. jude and y/n had continued their lunchroom chats and brief exchanges in the corridors, their bond growing stronger with each passing week. the playful banter had evolved into deeper conversations, and their connection had become something more than just friendly.

one evening, after a particularly intense training session, jude found himself at a crossroads. he had spent weeks building up the courage, the playful exchanges, and the lingering looks now laced with something more earnest. as he waited for y/n to finish her shift, he paced restlessly, rehearsing his words in his mind. the weight of the moment felt heavy, the room around him seeming to close in as he steeled himself for what he was about to do.

when y/n finally emerged from the treatment room, her face lighting up as she saw him, jude’s heart pounded louder. he took a deep breath, pushing through the anxiety that coiled in his chest.

“hey, y/n,” he started, his voice slightly wavering. “i was wondering... if you’d like to go out with me sometime. maybe grab dinner or something?”

y/n froze, her eyes widening in surprise. the casual, effortless atmosphere of their usual interactions seemed to dissipate, replaced by a charged silence. her heart sank as she processed jude’s words. she had always been guarded, but the thought of another relationship felt overwhelming, especially with the shadows of her past still lingering.

“jude, i... i’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i can’t. i’m not ready for... this.”

jude’s face fell, the warmth in his eyes dimming as if the light had been abruptly snuffed out. the rejection struck him like a physical blow, the sting of it sharp and unrelenting. he struggled to mask his hurt with a strained smile, but the effort felt painfully hollow. every fiber of his being seemed to crumble under the weight of her words.

“oh, okay,” jude said, his voice thick with disappointment. “no worries.”

“i’m really sorry,” y/n repeated, her own guilt and regret surfacing. she wanted to explain, to share the inner turmoil that kept her from opening up, but the words felt trapped in her throat. “it’s not about you, really. i just… have some things i need to work through.”

jude nodded, though his eyes were distant, clouded with the ache of rejection. “right. well, maybe another time.”

as he turned to leave, the familiar weight of his steps seemed heavier than ever. each step felt like an echo of his unfulfilled hope, his heart weighed down by the crushing disappointment. the excitement he had felt moments before was now replaced by a deep, resonant ache, the hope he had clung to feeling painfully out of reach.

y/n reached out, her voice trembling as she called after him. “jude, wait—”

but it was too late. he had already started walking away, his figure retreating down the corridor, leaving y/n standing alone in the dim light of the hallway. her heart ached with a mix of regret and helplessness. she wanted to bridge the gap between them, to explain the walls she had built to protect herself from further hurt, but the words wouldn’t come. the corridor seemed to close in around her, echoing the void left by jude’s departure.

as jude’s figure disappeared from view, the weight of her decision pressed heavily on y/n’s shoulders. the silence of the corridor seemed to amplify her sense of loss, each breath feeling like an effort as she grappled with the emptiness left in the wake of his rejection

next

© PDRIESTA 2024

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[guzsdaily]

The factory must grow

Day 4 - Nov 09, 12.023

I'm addicted to Factorio, all the times I played it, the sense of time was completely lost to me. It is so addictive to see your factory grow over time, see each production line filling belts, see your research tree being completed. And yesterday, when I ended up being awake until 1 a.m. - and just went to bed because I started to search for mods to speed up the game time because I'm still in a "starter base" and ended up being a little frustrated that my resources were ending and my production slowing down and stalling the research tree - I ended up making an analogy which is what I thought could be the theme for today. This can end up felling very "gen z coach like", but whatever.

Playing creative mode

I never played Factorio in survival mode, the intended way to play it. "Why?" Because I didn't want to be through the grind and consume hours of my day in the slow passed gameplay of gathering resources, waiting to craft an item, walk slowly on the map to build a train line, etc. I always thought that just designing the factory itself would be more fun, "why pass all that when I can just install a mod and play with cheats? It's more fun to make a giant factory with perfect resource consumption and production!". Playing this way was cool and all, I always tried to make the most exaggerated production lines, train networks, furnace arrays, decorating and aligning everything, so in the map it always looked like a giant computer with so many parts.

But for some reason, I never stuck to a base, I never played for hours without feeling bored at some point. Most of the time, all the resource productions were in a brute force way, never actually planning and calculating how many items I needed or consumed. I tried installing modpacks which added more and more things, more resources, processing steps, etc., but it never fixed the problem for me. "I liked building in creative mode in Minecraft for years, why here would be different? It's just like when I'm trying to build Redstone contraptions or giant builds, no?". Because of it, I always stopped playing and had months length intervals of never opening the game.

Playing survival mode

Game design and development is something which really interest me, even knowing that now days I probably wouldn't develop any game, the programming for it is so out there compared to web development that I would need to re-watch all the video courses that introduced me to programming in general in the first place. But I still watch video essays, commentaries, devlogs about game dev and design from time to time, and one of the things that you always see around them is "designed progression", or how games show your progress to make you have fun and see how you're improving your skills and powers. This is even one of the reasons that I was convinced to play ULTRAKILL in the first place, because the flow of the game was so addicting and even being difficult, you see easily how you improve your movement, try different things, adapt and improvise in unexpected situations, etc. And knowing by the title of this section and this paragraph, you already know where this is going.

I tried to play Factorio in the intended way, started a new save called "RealFactorio", default settings, survival, with just Quality Of Life mods to add and fix some features which the developers already plans to do in the 2.0 version. And now I addicted to it, and I just played for some hours in the past three to four days, I pretty much end every day wanting to play at least a little, one hour or so, to progress my base. It all a spaguetti base, but from somewhere I heard, if you call it your "starter base", you can't be judged for it being ugly or poor planned. So here is my started base:

I'm addicted to seeing those belts fill up with science packs after creating a clumsy section just to be able to have the next shining new thing in the research tree. Even if it doesn't produce in big scale, even if most of the belts are empty because I didn't calculate enough resources and production time, even when I already died five times killing enemies to be able to expand the base in the future. It is ✨satisfactory✨, wait… that's another game.

"But why?" Well, it is kinda obvious seeing now. Seeing your progression after you actually battled and put energy into something is rewarding, it gives you dopamine, and all that talk you already know, yadda yadda… However, for me what more is interesting is the difference on how a game like Minecraft, which for me, can be fun in both creative or survival, while Factorio can't. And I think it can be explained in the difference of two words' meaning for me: "creative" and "design".

Creative: this would be the process or joy of creating something itself, expressing what you like, artwork in general. Personally, this is where something like Minecraft in creative mode, creating pixelart in Factorio - which I'm wasn't making - drawing a doddle in your notebook, etc. would be.

Design: this would be when you are creating something with a defined purpose or goal, trying to create something with some sort of pattern or thought behind. Where something like Minecraft survival, Factorio, drawing a new character, logo design, etc. would fall on. This also include the process of adapting a work to fit a limit or trying to create something efficiently. Yes, there's creativity in this process, but the overhaul picture is bigger than one work itself.

And my problem was that I was trying to be creative when I should be designing more. Admiring after how all that work and planning paid off when I saw my factory working with the limited resources it had. Because of this that I found joy on playing the game. That's even why I like to play Minecraft survival, because is both of them at the same time, you need to design farms and collect resources if you want to make your building to express yourself and be creative after.

The [obvious and convoluted] analogy

I have to admit that at this point of writing, the point of this entry made some many turns that I don't even want to rewrite any part of it. It already passed some hours since the start and I need to do something productive today yet. And to be honest, this entire post is just me trying to excuse the hours I spent on the game really.

You probably already heard of that talk about "gamifying your life", and I won't repeat it again here. I'm still learned and probably will add things like a progress bar to see how many tasks I've done one day, small things like that which helps you see your progress daily. And knowing my taste of games and how seeing a progress bar getting to 100% is somewhat satisfying to me, hopefully it would help.

What I want to talk about is on designing your life, and even more, trying to see what pieces to improve, what production line needs more resources and thought on. The same way it is good to break everything into small digestible pieces, if you never stop to see the bigger picture, you never end up seeing your whole progress and how much your factory has grown.

And the other thing to remember is that unfortunately, real life doesn't have a creative mode for most of the time and for most of the people, so resources are limited, and you don't have infinite energy, but would it be fun if it had?

---

Today's artists & creative things

Album/EP: Spare Hearts - by Exit Mouse - This is that album that you forget about, but when you remember it, you need to listen to it again and again. Exit Mouse I discovered because of Goulart (a Brazilian youtuber) which made a video about the online series Cat Ghost, and I simply fell love with the music. Highly recommend, favorite music of the album for me is "This is (Not) (feat. Caleb Hypes)", it just gives a feel of hope but also uneasiness[?] the entire album, and I love it.

Copyright (c) 2023-present Gustavo "Guz" L. de Mello  <contact.guz013@gmail.com>

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-SA 4.0) License

[nba2k24pcdownload]

NBA 2K24 PC Download

The new mechanism that NBA 2K24 has introduced to the shooting method is the new shot timing visual cue setting. While this may differ from the shot mechanism of NBA 2K23, it still is not that hard to get around. The show is a glimpse into upcoming gameplay and content updates that are coming into the franchise, as well as interviews for 2K developers and even NBA players. Each show features a number of questions that pop up on the bottom of the screen in 2K24. All of this is expected, of course, but what we had not foreseen was that the Switch would miss out on the MyCareer story mode this year — something that has been continued on Sony and Microsoft's consoles. Instead of watching your player make their way into the league and gradually accumulate minutes and respect (as was the case in 2K23 on Switch), the Nintendo version of '24 sees you dropped straight into a starting role with a 60 overall rating.

Returning to an era where guys like Vlade Divac and Hedo Turkoglue were key players in the NBA is a treat, especially for those of us who were first exposed to basketball around that time. Badge progression, a mechanic that helps differentiate players from one another within specific contexts (such as the “Spot Finder” badge, which gives a small speed boost when off-ball and trying to get into open space), can now move both ways. This meant that when I wasn’t actively focusing on improving a specific badge, it would begin to regress to a worse version. Where i Can Download NBA 2K24 For example, if I am working on a badge that improves my long-range shooting ability but come across a matchup that dictates less three-point shooting and more driving to the basket, I now risk that badge progression by altering my gameplan. Not only does this dampen the enjoyment of being creative, it encourages maxing out my stats as quickly as possible so I don’t have to deal with bad matchups in the first place. Even without competing against others online, MyCareer placed me in the NBA as an up-and-coming starter on a team of my choice.

As a result, I was thrust into an environment where I was regularly guarding players with a major attribute difference, making playing good defense or offense virtually impossible. When I did step on a court with other players online, no amount of skill or precision allowed me to compete with players who had dumped money (likely hundreds of dollars) into their created character. Within just a day or two of release, I was so far behind the curve that the idea of grinding out more VC felt sickening. Effectively, the only way to play here is to pay, and that’s just offensive. NBA 2K24 PC Download, the latest entry in the long-running basketball video game franchise, is getting a little more Hollywood with the addition of virtual celebrities watching players dunk, dribble and dish out dimes in the game.

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This year's city is a new beachfront city complete with sidequests, stores, modes of transport and the side streetball courts where players grind it out in pickup action while other players watch. New substitution behavior that doesn't just swap out five players at once makes for a more realistic, fun experience against A.I. It appears to favor keeping scorers on the court at all times, leading to a notable lack of major scoring droughts NBA 2K24 Download from the computer to exploit. For the first time, NBA 2K24 will feature cross progression between MyTEAM and MyCAREER to help players quickly earn all the rewards Season 1 has to offer. In addition to the free Season Pass, players can now also purchase the Pro Pass and the Hall of Fame Pass to receive every reward in the game. For instance, players rarely celebrate big moments such as game-winning shots in a convincing way.

Even when THQ only focus on one series, all entries got almost equal experience on all platforms. I found a lot of 2K WWE games though having better graphics lack the realistic models and design of past games. The WWE games were more fun to play on Nintendo hardware back then too, leaving Where i Can Download NBA 2K24 Nintendo out of this means they lose the vast audience they could had gotten. Beginning with the newbie, Mamba Moments sees you playing through seven iconic games from Kobe Bryant's 20-year career, replicating historic plays in an attempt to collect stars and 'beat' the game mode.

[code-of-creation]

I was really depressed when I started playing tears of the kingdom. I was recently diagnosed bipolar, and after a medication worked wonders for months, I had a dangerous side effect and had to stop taking it. None of the medications I've tried since have worked as well, but totk was released during the first week I had the worse depressive episode of my life. (Im still trying to climb out of this hole)

I had become so depressed I wasn't talking anymore. I wasn't doing chores, self care, only going to my doctors office. Nothing was worth doing. I stopped talking to friends, I stopped talking to anyone addressing me in public, I stopped writing or using my computer. My roommate pushed me to start up the game. He helped me set up my switch, as I had just gotten my first switch a couple days prior. I started playing, and I was really bad at it. My hands and fingets kept getting confused, I'd press the wrong buttons, miss the buttons entirely, and get frustrated to the point of tears because I just couldn't do anything that was time sensitive. Fights were dismal, I got ran over by fucking ostriches.

I slowly adapted to my capabilities. It was slow going, I was mainly just hoarding supplies. I wouldnt talk to NPCs unless forced to. I began making fortresses out of mine carts with just enough space to shoot arrows from. I learned where to place fortresses so they wouldn't get smashed by the flux construct. I crawled over every inch of the starter islands before I gave in and progressed the story to jump to the surface.

I was on the surface for two weeks without talking to any npcs. Two weeks I was oblivious to the paraglider. I didnt look anything up for roughly two weeks as I was conditioned to think looking up answers was cheating. It took me hours to do Morok shrine, I thought it was just made to be difficult and you needed enough hearts to survive the unavoidable falls. Imagine how I felt after practicing presice timing, angles, and cheesing it in every way possible, to learn you're meant to have a paraglider.

The poor people of Hyrule. Seeing signs of a feral blond man dressed in strange clothing, running around with makeshift or rusty weapons despwrately cheesing fights to win against much stronger monsters while being absolute shit at dodging, blocking, moving(Fingers get confused).

Rare stories from the people I was forced to interact with. Confusion at giant floating fortresses made of fallen ruins. Hoarding every random fucking thing. Shrines being opened. Broken things suddenly fixed. A slow, clumsy, and strange beginning.