#The Game Awards for Games Who Can't Afford the Game Awards

[ayeforscotland]

So on a bit of a whim, with a few people I work with, we created The Game Awards for Games Who Can't Afford the Game Awards.

Or TGAGWCAGA for short.

It's pretty much exploded over the past week on Bluesky where a lot of indie developers have made their home.

We asked indie games to nominate themselves, whether they had released this year or whether they were an upcoming game that couldn't afford to pay for the advertising space at the Game Awards.

Geoff Keighley said that Gamescom's Opening Night Light were going to be charging as much as $480,000 for ad spaces during next year's showcase.

That's simply not remotely affordable for thousands of studios.

So while it's a bit of a parody, we also hope it'll shine some light on great indie games, and our form is of course written in Comic Sans.

[i-t-s---l-i-z-z-y]

🔵 TGAGWCAGA 2024 - Official Livestream

[beekeeperspicnic]

Behold! An unexpected teaser trailer for my cosy Sherlock Holmes point and click game The Beekeeper's Picnic

I made this (...very quickly) for a fun event originating on BlueSky called The Game Awards for Games Who Can't Afford the Game Awards, but since it's over now I thought I'd release it here!

I've got a longer and more polished release trailer in the works, but for now enjoy this!

Wishlist on Steam | Itch.io Demo | Discord |

[bones4thecats]

❥· Swan, Shōyō + Ushijima × Sis! Reader

Characters: Shōyō Hinata (🏐) and Wakatoshi Ushijima (🪖) A/N: I kind of edited one of my existing prompts to make this one. I though it'd be cuter this way. Hope y'all like it! ✎ Summary: When going against fellow high-school volleyball team Shiratorizawa, Shoyo Hinata gains the attention of an opposing teammate, Wakatoshi Ushijima, but not for his skills, but because his sister was the Super Ace's girlfriend. ╰─▸ Prompt: ❝ What if Hinata’s older sister! Reader went to Shiratorizawa and dated Ushijima ❞

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🏐🪖 The sounds of cheers made you smile, eyes moving around as the crowd yelled happily. The coach, Coach Tanji Washijo, groaned and stood up, looking at his team and giving them a pep talk before the match began.

🏐🪖 Wakatoshi Ushijima looked at you and nodded, a sign of respect and care towards you without words. You nodded back and motioned for him to go win the game, to which he was going to do regardless.

🏐🪖 "Hey, Y/N?" Coach Akira Saito called. Looking at him, you cocked an eyebrow and hummed. "That boy looks a lot like you." He said, pointing with his pen towards a Karasuno member. Your eyes followed and widened once they saw a ginger-haired boy talking to a dark-haired boy.

🏐🪖 "Yeah, you're right." Coach Washijo replied, confusion on his face. "You guys related or something?"

🏐🪖 "You could say that..." You answered, awkwardly rubbing his hands together as the two men looked at one another, shrugged, and paid attention to the starting game. "Let's just hope the boys are right in their minds today. We can't afford a loss."

🏐🪖 Coach Saito nodded and watched carefully as your gaze kept shifting from your boyfriend, Ushijima, and the number 10 member of Karasuno. The two coached noticed your attention shifting, but didn't speak up, knowing to much pressure could cause you to clam up as badly as a jail cell.

-

🏐🪖 The aura coming off of Ushijima was overwhelming, it alerted the whole team that he was becoming extremely involved in the game. Your eyes followed very carefully as the ball moved from person to person, before it was finally set by Shirabu towards the green-haired male.

🏐🪖 "Ushijima!" He yelled, the team moving correctly as their captain jumped to spike the ball downwards once again. As the three blockers came out of nowhere, Ushijima spiked the ball sideways, creating a cross.

🏐🪖 Your eyes were glued wide, the ball moving faster and faster than you had ever seen before. The teams were very much tied in power, and it was shocking. Eventually, your gaze fell on number 10 of Karasuno once again. "Their number 10 is coming!" Taichi yelled.

🏐🪖 Looking at the number ten closely, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why wasn't he running up? Just then, number 9 set the ball, and almost the entire team jumped up as if they were going to spike it, causing the rest of the Shiratorizawa team confusion.

🏐🪖 Next thing you knew: a whistle blew and the gym erupted in cheers once again.

🏐🪖 "Farewell, my paradise." Tendou said.

🏐🪖 Your mouth hung open in shock, tears beginning to come up in your eyes. Was it because your team lost? Or was it because your brother had just beat one of the best teams in Japan?

🏐🪖 When everyone lined up and bowed, thanking one another for the game, you smiled and wiped your tears. Glancing at your teammates who walked up towards you and their coaches. You stood there as Coach Washijo spoke, "We'll be having a meeting when we get back. Once the awards ceremony is over, get onto the bus."

🏐🪖 The boys nodded and agreed, chuckling when their head coach told them they'd be hitting a hundred serves when back home.

-

🏐🪖 You smiled and walked with Ushijima over to Karasuno players 10 and 9. They stared at the scores, enamored by their leading points of 21 and your team's 19. "Ushijima was so damn cool." Hinata spoke, both unaware of your dual presence behind them.

🏐🪖 "Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio of the concrete..." the tall-man spoke, causing the others to turn around in surprise. "I'll defeat you next time."

🏐🪖 "I'll make sure I'll be able to stand on the same level as you!"

🏐🪖 "I'll make sure you say that I'm better than Oikawa!"

🏐🪖 You giggled and walked up, hugging Hinata as his eyes widened. Which was understandable. You hadn't seen one another in a few months and you changed, maturing physically from a growth spurt.

🏐🪖 "Big sister!" He cheered, "It's so good to see you!"

🏐🪖 You giggled again and patted Hinata's orange hair, his smile shining as both Kageyama and Ushijima watched with slightly widened eyes.

🏐🪖 "It's great to see you too, little brother! I can see your training paid off. You did amazing! Not many have bested the Super Ace himself!" You said, pointing towards Ushijima. The latter was flustered, a slight blush on his face as you directed the attention of the two towards him.

🏐🪖 Before you realized it, the awards ceremony was about to begin. So, you pulled away from the sibling hug and walked towards Ushijima. But, before completely leaving, you handed your number on a piece of paper to your brother. "I switched phones, so the number changed. Message me whenever. Love ya, little bro!"

🏐🪖 Hinata smiled cheerfully and waved, yelling, "Love ya too, big sis!"

-

🏐🪖 Walking into the bus, you held hands with Ushijima. He then motioned for you to take the window seat, which you did. The male then sat down beside you, his head leaning against the back of the bus. You then felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

🏐🪖 Picking out your phone, you smiled; a message from Shoyo Hinata.

Shoyo🧡🍊🏐: HEYYYYYYY!!! LOOK WHO FELL ASLEEP ON THE BUS!!!

Shoyo🧡🍊🏐: OH NO! WRONG PIC!!! WRONG PIC!!!!!

🏐🪖 Chuckling, you sent a heart back to your brother. And, as he seemingly kept looking for the correct picture, you laid your head down on Ushijima's shoulder. He looked at you and smiled, laying his head on top of yours.

🏐🪖 "I love you, Ushijima- despite the loss."

🏐🪖 Ushijima breathed out a laugh and kissed the top of your head before saying the three words you loved oh-so-much;

"I Love You, Too."

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🦴 Copyright © 2025 by Bones4thecats on Tumblr. All Right Reserved. 🦴

[gauntletqueen]

GO WATCH THE GAME AWARDS FOR GAMES WHO CAN'T AFFORD THE GAME AWARDS PLEASE

They're live right now and it's SUCH a cool and good initiative

[rosanna-writer]

Baby, I'm the One to Beat (1/?)

Feyre Archeron is the most talked-about woman in Exy. On the court, she broke records in her first season with the Springfield Bucks, while her off-court romance with her team captain, Tamlin, had fans swooning. In the wake of a breakup, she throws it all away and transfers to the rival Velaris University. A new narrative emerges—after refusing to share the court with her ex, Exy's freshman phenomenon is "too temperamental" to play at the sport's highest levels. Feyre can't afford to get involved with another teammate when she needs another trophy to keep her dream of going pro alive. But amid all the drills, workouts, and scrimmages, Rhysand, her new team captain, becomes a smirking, sarcastic soft place to land. And Feyre doesn't miss his longing looks in her direction, either. Can she win the championship and still keep her heart—and reputation—intact?

For @belabellissima

My secret santa giftee is the loml, the queen, the legend BELA FUCKIN BELISSIMAAAAAA!!!! I literally squealed with excitement when I got my assignment, and I had the BEST time binging the Foxhole Court to create this AU (and real talk, when I started brainstorming and making a "things Bela likes" list, I was like "oh SHIT, HOW IS HER TASTE IN EVERYTHING SO IMPECCABLE???")

A huge thank you to my team of betas, brainstorming partners, and secret keepers: @c-e-d-dreamer, @violetasteracademic, @yourstarsmyscars, @reverie-tales, thesistersarcheron, berd-berd-nerd, itsthedoodle, and climbthemountain2020 And an even bigger thank you to the @acotargiftexchange mods for all their hard work putting on such a fun event!

Read it Here on AO3 or under the cut, and happy holidays everyone! <3

Feyre wished she'd thought about a revenge dress.

For the past year, she'd spent no less than an hour and a half in the weight room most days. She'd clocked enough miles to wear out three pairs of running shoes. A constant ache had settled in her shoulders from all the drills that honed her catching, throwing, and aiming. After all the work she'd put in to bring her body to peak physical condition, she really ought to have found something slinky.

But she'd put off packing until the last minute, and now the steam from her shower hadn't done anything to fix the wrinkled mess she'd shoved into her suitcase. Wrapped up in a scratchy hotel towel, she sighed in dismay at the stodgy black outfit she'd bought for her father's funeral years ago.

She forced herself to change before Ianthe banged on the door. Just a few days ago, they would have gone shopping for something new, but since Feyre had ended things with Tamlin, her roommate communicated solely in dirty looks. Ianthe's chipper demeanor had gotten on her nerves, especially before 6 AM practices, but now, Feyre would take it over the frosty silence that had followed them all the way from their dorm to the latest hotel room they'd been assigned to share.

Maybe it was just the thought of the last time she'd worn the dress, but Feyre suddenly missed her sisters fiercely. Despite their childhoods full of cutthroat competition, constant tears, and hurt feelings, Nesta and Elain would still rally behind her after a breakup. And it helped that they both had nicer closets to raid.

But college recruitment and Exy Pro League drafts had scattered the Archeron sisters across Prythian, so Feyre found herself getting ready for the Collegiate Player of the Year awards ceremony alone.

The formal, televised awards ceremony where she'd be seated next to her roided-up meathead of an ex-boyfriend. The ex who was also her team captain.

The occasion called for looking killer. But in the whirlwind of celebrations and interviews, congratulations and sponsorship offers since her game-winning goal ended Springfield University's fifty-year long championship drought, she hadn't had much time to herself.

And these days, Feyre spent her free time crying and beating herself up for not ending things the first time Tamlin put his hands on her.

She put on enough makeup to avoid being told she looked sick, then tied back her hair. After one last frown in the mirror, Feyre let Ianthe have the bathroom. Her teammate said nothing, but the disgusted curl of her lip spoke volumes about how Feyre looked.

She wandered down the hotel lobby, hoping to find Lucien. Since the breakup, hardly anyone on the Springfield Bucks spoke to Feyre unless they absolutely had to, but Lucien remained friendly. Or at least, he did when Tamlin wasn't around to glare.

A few of her teammates had already gathered on the sofa, Tamlin in the center. Irritatingly enough, he looked damn good in a forest green suit that stretched over his hulking muscles, and by some miracle, he'd managed to knot his floral tie correctly. He'd even washed his long, blonde hair for once.

Feyre just silently hovered at the edge of the group. None of her teammates looked at home in clothes that didn't wick sweat, dry fast, and stretch in all directions, save Lucien, who could command a runway just as well as he could dominate an Exy court. He caught Feyre's eye, flashed her a warm smile, and then went right back to nodding along as Tamlin spoke.

She tried not to take it too personally.

As they waited, a few of the Bucks took pictures together. Pictures that pointedly did not include Feyre. Ianthe would probably flood the Exy hashtags with captions about how they all clean up nice, but even that couldn't drown out excited online chatter about Feyre "the Cursebreaker" Archeron.

Breaking records got people talking a hell of a lot more than a few nice photos ever did. Feyre let that knowledge bolster her spirits.

Time seemed to drag on as the team gathered and boarded the bus. Ianthe snagged the seat next to Lucien before Feyre could, so she spent the ride to the Middle Theater staring moodily at downtown traffic. Each time Tamlin's booming voice cut through the Bucks's conversations, she nearly flinched.

As they arrived and took their seats. Feyre tried not to fidget. With all the recent travel, she hadn't gotten a workout in, and even though she needed the off-season to rest up, she felt like she might explode if she didn't run a few laps to burn off excess energy.

Since the breakup, she hadn't gotten this close to Tamlin without the benefit of a helmet, pads, and a mouthguard. The memory of that smashed study room still burned behind her retinas. As the lights dimmed and the ceremony began, she forced herself to breathe slowly. In through her nose, out through her mouth.

Feyre tuned out the introductions and the season recap—after all, she'd lived through it. Eventually, her ears pricked at the sound of her name as the nominees for Rookie of the Year were announced. A camera probably zoomed in on her face, and somehow, she managed to smile through the host listing out the nominees' achievements.

It helped that Feyre's stats blew everyone else's out of the water. Despite her limited playing time as a second-stringer, Feyre put up insane numbers of goals and assists all year. From her very first on-count appearance, when she'd body-checked a Middengard senior then twisted out of the tackle to steal the ball and score, she'd made Bucks fans believe in an end to the Springfield curse. And in the championship, she'd made it happen by slamming Amarantha, Hybern's captain, into a wall to clear the way for the game-winning goal.

The Cursebreaker was a freshman phenomenon if there ever was one.

And yet, when the host opened the envelope and read out her name, Feyre still blinked in surprise. Everything about this season felt like a dream.

She stood, and next to her, so did Tamlin. He pulled her into a hug, every inch the proud team captain the fans expected to see despite the breakup, and it took everything in Feyre to push down on the instinct to shove.

If Lucien hadn't gotten to her next, Feyre might have vomited. By some magic, he always seemed to smell like cinnamon and campfires, even drenched in sweat—decidedly not like Tamlin. "You earned it," he whispered, pulling her close.

Feyre let those words steady her as she walked up to the stage. She hadn't thought about an acceptance speech—couldn't think of one even now, amid the too-bright lights and too-loud applause. All she could focus on was not making a fool of herself and tripping as she stepped up to the podium.

But Feyre Archeron always landed on her feet, and she dutifully got through all the necessary thank-yous. The words felt like ash in her mouth, and she didn't mean most of them. Her father, who'd pushed his daughters into Exy because a shattered kneecap ended his dreams of going pro. Her sisters, who she'd been pitted against. Her teammates, who'd rallied behind Tamlin despite the abuse. Her coaches, who'd never really cared about her off the court.

Her hands still shook as she returned to her seat, only vaguely aware of her teammates clapping her on the back as she walked. The ceremony moved on to the next award, and Feyre's heart stopped hammering in her chest.

Something ugly coiled in her gut ahead of the final prize of the night—Player of the Year. Feyre hadn't been nominated. The old guard at the PCAA—Prythian College Athletics Association—still expected underclassmen to pay their dues. Despite exceptional performance that would have earned it, she wasn't eligible for the award.

But Tamlin was a finalist.

Feyre could practically taste something bitter on her tongue as Tamlin's highlights were read out. His stats weren't any better than hers—but he had the benefit of being a starter. Unlike him, she'd managed those numbers while waiting around for him to tire out and need a sub.

He'd graduate in a year. Feyre would get the playing time eventually. She knew that.

Yet…she couldn't help but wonder what she could have achieved if she'd been on the starting lineup from the beginning.

The smile froze on her face as Tamlin's name was called. It wasn't a surprise; the captain of the championship-winning team was always a shoe-in for Player of the Year. But something inside her seemed to burn anyway.

She hated it all—that dopey smile that once charmed her, his massive bear-paw hands that dwarfed the host's as they shook, the good-natured way he bumbled through the acceptance speech. He was such an oaf. And the more the Exy community applauded him, the more Feyre wanted to scream.

She did her best to push those thoughts aside for the rest of the evening. The season had ended, after all. After tonight, she'd have a whole summer ahead of her, plenty of time to catch her breath away from Tamlin. Maybe with a chance to relax, the thought of setting foot on the Springfield campus again wouldn't make her feel quite so nauseous.

After the ceremony, there was still a banquet dinner to get through. Just the thought of it sounded exhausting, and Feyre didn't know how the teams in other college leagues managed two whole banquets a year.

But at least, there would be players and coaches from other teams, and even if the Bucks all hated her, the Archeron name meant something in Exy. Nesta had gone pro with the Velaris Valkyries, and all the analysts were predicting that Elain would be chosen during the first round when the draft occurred in a few weeks.

Feyre had gotten used to all the gawking years ago.

She lost track of everyone that came to congratulate her. Helion from the Suns, Adriata's goalie Tarquin, that dealer named Kallias that she'd bowled over during the game against the Frost, plus an assortment of coaches and officials she'd never met before…

Players mingled freely—the league wasn't that big, and everyone knew everyone else, at least by reputation. Feyre had wanted to melt into the floor and disappear every time a player she'd just met told her they were sorry things didn't work out between her and Tamlin. But as usual, Velaris was the exception.

The Velaris University Stars always kept to themselves, not that anyone wanted to get mixed up with them anyway. Like everyone else, Feyre had heard all the whispers about bribing officials, and rumor had it the Stars kept a slush fund to pay players for intentionally knocking out opponents. Someone had even said Velaris had mafia connections, like some of the teams over in America. Rhysand Darling, their captain, had refused to shake Tamlin's hand before the coin toss at all of their games.

Springfield and Velaris had one of the longest, bitterest rivalries in all of college sports, so Feyre would have dismissed it as immature drama. But one tackle from Rhys had concussed Lucien despite the helmets all Exy players wore, and for weeks, she'd worried the hit had scrambled her friend's brain.

In retaliation, she'd knocked Rhys on his ass no less than five times when they'd faced off again during the playoffs. She'd delighted in the angry flash of his violet eyes behind his facemask, and with Feyre covering him, he'd hadn't scored once.

She felt those same violet eyes landing on her throughout dinner. Feyre tried to ignore it. He probably just held a grudge because she'd made him look like a chump in the playoffs, and some idiot event organizer had been stupid enough to put the Stars's table near the Bucks's.

Feyre wasn't quite sure when it all became too much. But she could barely take a bite of her chicken without another player coming to talk to her, and a few seats over, even more of them were fawning over Tamlin. She needed air.

Once she caught sight of the line to the ladies's room snaking around two corners, Feyre tried to find somewhere quiet. She walked through the halls without any sense of where she was going, other than just…away from everyone else.

She finally stopped in front of a door labelled "EXIT" that was probably in some staff-only section of the building she shouldn't have entered. But it didn't seem to be a fire door. And when she pushed, it opened without alarming.

The smell of garbage hit her like a freight train. Good—it might stink, but no one would come find her near the dumpsters. Feyre stepped outside, careful to wedge a doorstopper into place just in case it locked from the outside.

She let out a shaking breath, tipping her head up to look at the sky. Even on a cloudless night, the city was too bright for stars, but she took in the sight of the full moon rising over the skyscrapers.

She could do this.

Feyre Archeron could be as enduring and faceted as the night. Her teammates in Springfield just couldn't see in the dark.

"I was hoping to find the woman of the hour out here," a voice purred behind her.

Feyre's face twisted into a scowl before she'd turned around. But there Rhysand was, smirking at her with his hands shoved into the pockets of his suit. Impeccably dressed and camera-ready, he looked out of place in the dingy alleyway.

"What do you want?" she said, too drained to put any venom behind it.

"To speak to you privately."

For a moment, Feyre said nothing. She'd assumed he'd sought her out to gloat after hearing about her breakup, but that was the sort of thing people generally did in public, the bigger the audience the better. Narrowing her eyes, she said, "Why?"

"I assume you're thinking of transferring. Anyone in your position would be."

"I'm not," she lied. Admitting it to Rhysand before she'd made a firm decision wouldn't end well.

He shrugged, the simple movement of his shoulders somehow painfully elegant. "If you want to spend your time warming Tamlin's bench, then it's your season to waste."

So he was here to gloat, then. "Fuck off," she said, moving to push past him and head back inside.

Rhys didn't move out of her way—his hand shot out, and he stiff-armed her just like he would on an Exy court. Feyre growled, dropping her shoulder and shoving properly. But the godforsaken heels on her feet made her movement wobbly. He still didn't budge.

"And that," he said, sliding his hand back into his pocket, "is why you should come to Velaris."

Feyre let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "I should've known you weren't above player tampering. Did your team bribe someone to ignore that, too?"

Technically, he'd just tried to recruit her before she'd entered the PCAA portal and officially declared herself open to a transfer. Players could talk to each other, but if a coach had put him up to it, the PCAA would hit their team with a fine and suspension. The officials didn't look kindly on schools who swooped in and seduced away proven talent. But Velaris, apparently, didn't care.

His gaze roved down her body, a predatory gleam in his violet eyes. Feyre's mouth went dry. She knew that look—had worn it herself often enough.

Rhysand was hungry.

"Maybe I just think you look good in black," he murmured.

Until tonight, Feyre hadn't attended a formal event since her father's funeral. The black dress she'd bought amid a fog of grief covered her knees and collarbones, but she had the strangest sense that Rhys wanted to tear it off her with his teeth.

Feyre didn't mind. There was something deliciously heady about no longer scurrying back into Tamlin's shadow when someone looked at her like that.

But not quite heady enough that she wouldn't make him work for it. With a shrug, she said, "If I wanted to transfer, I'd have options. Adriata also needs a striker, and their jerseys match my eyes."

"Tarquin couldn't handle you."

"And you think you could?"

"You've watched enough film to know your play style is far too aggressive for the Summer Court. They rely on quick, short passes, and there's no room for someone who prefers to slam her way through lines of defenders. You'd thrive in Velaris, Feyre."

He wasn't wrong. Feyre understood how the defenses in the league operated just as well as he did, and damn near every article last season said Archeron's got that dawg in her. From what she'd heard, the culture in Adriata was good—no one ever had anything bad to say about Tarquin, and the Jellyfish would welcome a newcomer with open arms, even if they quietly grumbled about her holding onto the ball too long.

But Velaris…well, she'd heard the rumors. And even if she hadn't, Rhys rattled Lucien into dropping passes with taunts about Jesminda rolling in her grave, their quiet backliner had once grabbed Eris Vanserra by the neck when the refs weren't looking, and that tiny demon of a goalie actually bit Varian last year.

If it were any other team, Feyre could deal with a few cutthroat, psychotic teammates. An eventual spot on a pro roster would be worth it. But she'd catch hell for leaving Springfield for its biggest rival, especially after a breakup with the Bucks's beloved golden boy.

She should have just written it off. Even if she decided against Adriata, Helion might have a spot on the Suns, and there was the possibility of putting real distance between her and Tamlin if she transferred to the Continental League and joined Vallahan or Rask or Montessere. Or hell, even that ragtag American team with the orange uniforms.

But a clean break didn't compel her as much as Rhysand did.

"How would you make it worth my while?" she said, drinking in the desire burning behind his eyes and gulping it down like wine.

"Strikers come in pairs, Feyre. I need an equal partner I can split the court with and trust implicitly, but unless you transfer in, I'll be picking up the slack of whichever halfwit underclassman makes the roster," he said, not answering her question.

Feyre opened her mouth, fully intent on telling him she didn't care what he needed. But before she could, he advanced on her and added, "Tell me what you want, and if it gets you on the Stars, it's yours."

She almost said she wanted him. A cruel part of Feyre wanted to see if he'd kneel and bury his head between her thighs, just to convince her to transfer. She could imagine tangling her fingers in his blue-black hair, keeping his mouth exactly where she wanted it until he'd proved just how badly he needed her on the team.

But she wouldn't. After Tamlin, Feyre couldn't argue that she had great taste in men, but at the very least, she preferred entirely willing partners. Beyond that, she wouldn't be able to look Rhysand in the eye again, let alone play alongside him for a year.

Her good sense won out. "I need player development, a spot on your starting line, and teammates who won't cause problems."

"We'd treat you right in Velaris," Rhys purred. No one had any right to make a discussion of team culture sound that…well, sensual. Feyre shivered.

"Would you?" she said. "I'd be a distraction."

"Hungry dogs run faster, Feyre. Springfield might have tried to protect Tamlin, but it's hard to keep secrets when a captain is violent enough to throw a desk at his girlfriend. I know this is personal for you. And I'll put up with a media circus if it means I'm playing alongside a talented striker with something to prove."

Rhysand might have been the next in a long line of people who only wanted her for what she could do on an Exy court. But at least he wanted her. Besides, he didn't have to care as long as their goals aligned.

She crossed her arms. "I'll think about it."

Feyre had never seen Rhysand smile. And maybe that was the for the best because if it had happened on an Exy court, she might have been dumbstruck long enough for him to steal the ball from her racquet. Despite all the muscles, most Exy players looked like thumbs. But Rhys was devastating.

"We'll talk once you've entered the transfer portal," he said, as if it were inevitable Feyre would join the running list of players who'd officially declared their intention to leave for new schools.

With that, Rhys sauntered back inside, and Feyre silently glared at his back until he'd disappeared down the hallway. Definitely at his back and not at all at the sculpted ass perfectly accentuated by his well-tailored, stupidly expensive-looking suit.

When she was alone again, Feyre took a few deep breaths of cool night air. It didn't do as much to clear her head as she hoped. She needed to sit and think about this—make a list of the pros and cons, maybe even talk to her sisters and get their opinions.

But no one wanted to snatch that trophy back from Springfield more than Velaris. And no one wanted to shut Tamlin up more than Feyre.

If she closed her eyes, Feyre could imagine the boos if she entered the Spring Court in black. Each goal would quiet them down until the Bucks fans just sat in stunned silence or left early in disgust. All of the hype and excitement ahead of the biggest rivalry game of the season, the hype that only came after winning a championship…fizzled out into nothing.

It would be a perfect end to Tamlin's college Exy career. He might even cry.

But then again, if she transferred for more playing time and underperformed, she'd be Exy's biggest bust. A freshman who let one good season go to her head, then floundered. Too confident for her own good, too temperamental to play alongside her ex, too emotional to play Exy at the highest levels. A disappointment compared to her sisters—someone cracked under pressure with a national audience watching.

It could kill her chances of going pro.

Feyre couldn't stay out in the alleyway much longer before someone came looking for her. Steeling herself to get through the rest of the night, she headed back to the banquet. The rest of it seemed to pass in a blur, and she pretended not to notice the Velaris players whispering among themselves.

She'd left her phone in the pocket of her jacket. It had been sitting on a hanger at the coat check all evening, but when Feyre checked her messages on the bus, there was a new text from a contact that definitely hadn't been there before the awards ceremony.

Rhysand Darling 🌟: It was a pleasure meeting you tonight.

Feyre locked the screen before any nosy teammates had a chance to peek over her shoulder. The whole ride back to the hotel, Feyre felt like her phone was burning a hole in her pocket. Lucien even seemed to notice—she'd forced an uncertain smile when he'd shot her a worried look.

It wasn't until Ianthe's snores filled their shared room that Feyre dared sneak off to the bathroom. The tile was cold against her legs as she sat on the floor, back against the door. Before she had a chance to sleep on it or talk herself out of the decision, she started drafting an email to Springfield's coach and administrators. Once she'd typed it, she just stared at the subject line as her stomach did backflips.

Notification of Transfer

Feyre squeezed her eyes shut and hit send. She waited to feel regret or horror or even the urge to un-send the email and pretend nothing had happened. But it never came, and she'd run out of tears. Something inside her hardened into cold, icy resolve.

She switched to her messaging app and replied to Rhysand. The Spring Court had better not be standing when we're done with it. And no bitching if I get a penalty for spearing Tamlin's head on my racquet.

His response came seconds later, so quickly that Feyre had to wonder if he'd been waiting by his own phone. You're going to fit right in at Velaris. Can't wait to see you on the Court of Dreams 🖤

[pro-philosopher]

We're excited to announce that we are part of the game awards this year! Specifically, the Game Awards for Games Who Can't Afford The Game Awards!

JOIN US. RISE UP AGAINST THE GEOFFLOGARCHY!

[maleficore]

Sceleritas: Oh Master, consider the tiny mishap with the bard you had the last time we met.

Sceleritas: Your unconscious, clever mind hungers for extreme violence.

Sceleritas: Who knows you might kill next if you do not satisfy your Urge?

This bit of dialogue from Sceleritas fucks me up so bad. As Durge (unless you're metagaming for a particular outcome instead of going full roleplay) you're being placed before an impossible choice. Do you kill dozens of people by taking out Isobel or risk taking the blade to one of your companions again?

You know you can't control yourself fully so the threat is not empty. And you definitely care about your companions more than you do about a bunch of Harpers you've just met. But there may also be the tieflings involved, mostly children. Sparse in numbers now, but still people you've once saved. Was all that for nothing because now you might need to sacrifice them all? Do they tip the scale? How much is too much? What price are you willing to pay for your friends' safety and your own peace of mind?

"What is the worth of a single mortal's life?"

You and your companions are fighters, you have a mission. Fate of legions more people depends on you taking out the Absolute. Can you truly afford the risk? Whose survival is more important? Yes the Harpers may be valuable allies, but you are the ones with the prism. Without the party they don't stand a chance.

I hate how that's not ever touched upon properly in the game.

Killing or sparing Isobel is the only path-defining choice for Durge until the end of their personal quest and is treated as reference for their entire attitude towards being a bhaalspawn in act 3 no matter what other dialogue choices you make. Kill her and you more than embrace your heritage, you revel in what you are. Any other choices made up to that point are immediately voided.

But what if you did it out of fear? What if the "prize" you were awarded for it in the form of the Slayer terrifies you even more than the Urge itself? Which is a feeling you are able to express, but it holds exactly zero value because there's only two paths for you to take and nuance is not allowed. Why are you not able to express regret and have that matter? Not to mention that if Isobel dies due to unforeseeable consequences of other actions, it's still treated as if you went up the stairs and dug a knife in her back when nobody was looking because you simply felt like it.

Yes sacrificing Last Light is not the choice of a perfectly good aligned hero, but it is also not something only a villain would do. People make terrible choices when there's an axe raised over the nape of their neck and where the Urge is concerned Durge has absolutely no close confidants or support system who could help them make a better one.

The foundations of a complex character are there and every time I notice the game fumbling like this, railroading into an evil/good binary despite that, it ruins my fucking day.

[peppertaemint]

I need taemin on jimin's ear like 24/7 telling him to leave tham bum ass company I need him to get in his dreams like freddy kruegger I know he can pull that type of shit. I can't even think about how ugly army are going to get once he comes back thats not life bruh he needs to pack it up and focus on his own stuff, go on tour, have his own choreos not having to think about the fact that at least 4 of his bandmates would prefer to be sitting on a chair, go buy a beach house in brazil idk but you can't have a fulfilling and happy career when your so called fans are trying to drag you to hell my god

You're right, Anon. If anyone can turn Freddy Krueger and insert themselves in someone's dreams to fuck with them, it's Taemin.

The problem, as I have always seen it, is that Hybe created popularity for this 7-person group using the underdog marketing scheme that relies on fans feeling their favs are victims. Now that they are uber-popular to the point of not being able fail/flop, that narrative needs to sustain itself by other means. The fandom divisions, unfortunately, do play into this because as people act like fucks toward Jimin, it gives fans the raison d'être they need. And I think J-Hope doing the whole 'woe is me I need to chart' schtick played into this too, causing more victimisation and fan labour movements (LOL).

And that's what these voting and streaming campaigns are: uncompensated fan labour movements. Please realize that when these "big" accounts make these directives of who everyone should vote for and when etc, they're organising your labour for free. They're redistributing your wealth (money, time, resources) back to Hybe. Never forget that. Do not mindlessly consume.

Yet there is another facet that I think Hybe/superfans want people to ignore. This is a 7-person group. Not everyone is going have the same level of success solo. Not everyone is chart the same. It's just not possible. Not going to happen, and it doesn't need to happen. Not everyone will win awards, either. And it highlights the problem with popularity-based voting awards. These are meaningless beyond proving 'this artist has a lot of fans who spend X amount of time online doing fan labour for free'. Or they buy bots (not making accusations btw, just stating this is a possibility and something that does happen).

What I hope for any artist is to a) make enough money to pursue their art full-time and b) divorce themselves from the shackles of demanding fans. We've already seen how fan input ruins TV and movies (Game of Thrones, Star Wars). You could argue that K-pop as a genre has been suffering for a long time due to recycling of trends and pandering to supposed Western audiences (or the veneer of doing so).

So let us wish Minnie a life that affords him the luxury to focus on evolving his artistry and staying true to himself, and remember that awards and streams do not matter beyond the basic minimum to support someone's living expenses.

[ayeforscotland]

And with that, the TGAGWCAGA showcase is over.

From concept to a showcase with over 150 indie games (and over 500 original submissions!) in roughly three weeks.

I'm absolutely exhausted, but honestly really chuffed with how it went. There were a few hiccups but for anyone who's ever seen one of my streams (regular or charity events) you'll know that's par for the course.

The Live Chat was wonderful, so much love for indie devs who are putting out some really amazing games. If you missed it then please consider checking it out above.

Also want to give a special shout out to @sztupy who was able to turn a fully fledged website around in record time.

You can look through every single submission by release status or genre on the website below. Each game has a link to its Steam or Itch store page, so wishlist anything that you think you'll enjoy.

[tuxedo-lef]

Dying to know your take on the links befween arsenal and Gyokeres, I haven't even decided how I feel about it yet

the feelings are MIXED!

In terms of positives, I understand that he brings a different profile than Kai's and that he clearly has the finishing ability. Gabby Jesus, though I have a soft spot for him, is a player we cannot rely on. Gyokeres is also more affordable than the ideal option (Isak) and probably less of a gamble than Sesko (who hasn't particularly impressed me). He would probably fit relatively well with the team if we get Zubimendi and keep Fabio. These three players (alongside Martinelli) would boost our counter-attack threat which frankly has been non-existent this season.

In terms of negative, lots of his goals come from penalties (which I don't discredit completely, but I can't remember the last time Arsenal got awarded a penalty in the Premier League - feels like it happened once or twice) and Saka is our main penalty taker. If I'm allowed to be petty, I definitely have a negative bias towards him because he's currently playing for sporting cp. I feel like he is used to having more space to play forward, but Arsenal have to navigate low blocks in most of their Premier League games.

Final negative. He might out-blond Martin.

I can see it work but I can also see it flop (which is usually how I see most signings).

[cozygamereviews]

There were so many cozy indie games spotlighted at The Game Awards for Games Who Can't Afford the Game Awards (AKA #TGAGWCAGA).

Some highlights include Solarpunk, Farewell North, Two Falls, Aloft, Spiral, and Strand.

You can see the full list on my blog: https://tinyurl.com/TGAGWCAGA24

[llatimeria]

hey if you like fucking around with mobile games and free money, consider signing up for Mistplay with my referal link. Mistplay awards you points for reaching checkpoints in mobile games that you can then cash out for actual real gift cards for all kinds of stores (or paypal). it's genuinely not hard to rack up enough points for a $5 gift card, which might be a special little treatie you otherwise wouldn't have been able to afford, just for playin some games.

normally mistplay gives you a paltry 100 points for "successful referals" (where the referred person actually cashes out a card) so i haven't bothered with the effort of recruiting people to this, but for the next 3 days they're running an event where referals get me 1500 points each if you cash out, and that's genuinely about $5 so i guess that's the amount it takes for me to sell my soul and pitch sketchy datamining apps to my friends and followers.

i know the cultural zeitgeist on tumblr is very protective of their data, which i definitely understand, i just am a disabled person who can't do real jobs so i keep trying to find stupid little "side hustles" to occupy my time/pad out my bank account so i can hopefully become financially independent from my parents someday, and genuinely i find fucking around with stupid mobile games pretty fun so if they're going to siphon my data anyway I might as well get paid for it :v

[eziojensenthe3rd]

Midnight Gaming: 3rd Rock from the Galactic (or how I learned to stop worrying and love group-orientated alcoholism)

So I last night I played Deep Rock Galactic past midnight, looked at socials later and found....

Y'know what, this is kinda topical but the Game Awards is coming up real soon and I've heard some grumblings on some places over it and I gonna say it... do people actually treat the Game Awards with some level of respect and prestige? Because I honestly considered it as nothing more than the game industry's official event fot self-congratulatory arrogance. A masturbatory ceremony where they give out awards to developers and actors and feel good about themselves despite all the mass layoffs, consumer-unfriendly practices and horseshit?

Honestly, the only reason I'm even interested in the game awards is for the game announcements and reveals that show up in the event. If the awards didnt have any of that, if it was played entirely straight like the baftas? I'm pretty sure most people wouldn't even care about the game awards. What is there to get up in arms? That they arent jacking it the same way they used to? That your game didnt win the title of "Game of the Year"? Listen, plenty of games get a bundled version released called a Game of the Year edition regardless of whether they actually won that award. Its the same way that a restaurant says their pizza is the best pizza in the world or a coffee shop claims to have the best cup of coffee. Its just a form of marketing. And thats ultimately in my opinion what the Game Awards is at the end of the day: Marketing.

Of course, having your game shown on an event like that is a good way to get attention onto your project and Geoff knows that too, thats why its so goddamn expensive to have your game shown at all. Its for that reason that some folks have decided to start their own event for folks who dont wanna shell out a fortune just to get some eyeballs on their game.

The Game Awards for Games who can't afford the Game Awards is an event headed up by several people as a parody of the Game Awards but also serving as a means for smaller indie devs to present their games, kinda like steam nextfest or alphabetagamers "games to get excited about" fest. This isnt really a news thing but i'm happy to talk about this if it gets maybe a couple of people to learn about this.

So Deep Rock Galactic is a game I enjoy quite a lot. Its your everyday 4-player coop shooter but taking place in destructible cave enviroments with hordes of bugs to squash. And you play as Dwarves.

DRG's main gameplay loop starts with picking one of several missions that are available in several biomes and dropping down onto Hoxxes. Once there you complete your objectives while collecting any materials and gold you find as well as fighting off the local threats, then call for a ride home and get on before it leaves again.

The classes you play have their strengths and unique gear to bring to the team with the Scout having a grappling hook for traversal and a flare launcher to help light caves up. Engineers have their required-by-law turret item to place in various areas to routinely shoot enemies as well as a platform gun which shoots platforms, naturally. Gunner is your go-to for rapid heavy firepower along with a placeable bubble shield and a zipline launcher. And Driller, my beloved, is the dwarf who treats the earth of hoxxes as his canvas, cutting through the soil with his power drills and blasting chunks with his c4. The four classes play well with their weapons, each having 3 primary and 3 secondaries, being punchy and effective.

DRG works well as an enjoyable coop shooter for a couple of reason, one because of the focus on creating enough of a variety in the gameplay to ensure you dont start to feel bored. Different missions from simple mining jobs, protecting a large drilldozer, scouting out morkite wells and pipes to extract them and hunting giant bugs. These missions also take place across several unique biomes from salt caves, swamp dens, sandy delves, radioactive wastes and arctic caverns to name a few. Procedural generation is used to create every mission area you get dropped into with the enviroments being destructible with either weapon shots, explosions or even using your pickaxe to break the enviroment, giving you and your team an option to do some light terraforming around important areas to better suit your needs.

Now since its a coop game, cooperating with your fellow dwarf coworkers is a necessity to complete your objective and thankfully the game is able to cultivate that naturally with a pointer item to allow for pinging of essential items or priority threats, a single emote that ends up conveying several messages depending on the context such as a welcoming salute, a battlecry or a celebration, as well an overall welcoming vibe in how the dwarfs respond to each other. After most missions, I end up joining my fellow players at the abyss bar, downing several mugs of beer and dancing our hearts out until we collapse, before we all type "gg" and leave the lobby. And if working with others aint your thing (or you dont have an active internet connection) then you can go on missions with a robot helper buddy who you can direct with your pointer to carve out material, fight off enemies and can even revive you a limited number of times.

Ghost Ship Games has done a grand job on their game and have done well by the community, to the point where they are able to publish some indie titles by themselves, helping other devs thanks to how well DRG has done, with it becoming a franchise now with a survivor-like game and a board game along with the upcoming Rogue Core game. If you havent picked it up yet, please do, its a fantastic game with a lot to offer, more than most triple A games do these days.

On that note, what was the last AAA game you payed full price for and not just picked up when it was on sale? The last game I can recall is Cyberpunk 2077 and that was only because I wanted something to test my new computer on.

Y'know Ghost Ship announced recently a selection of real mugs based on the same mugs from the ingame abyss bar. I would love to get those mugs, they look real damn good.

Thats all for tonight. Thank you for reading this post on Midnight Gaming. Feel free to leave feedback and game suggestions. See you all another time. Rock and Stone!

[raven]

i get & kind of agree with your point, i guess i'm just looking at the bigger issue as a whole. i do think in a lot of cases it's super feasible to just. play something else. or to wait until you can afford to upgrade your pc, etc. but i think the trend in the gaming sphere (esp triple A titles) of not caring for optimization and expecting consumers to just keep up is a little concerning for the future of gaming. i think gaming is already something that's inaccessible to a lot of people for inescapable reasons (required internet access for most games now, having to purchase consoles or a pc isn't cheap, etc.) and with with the way optimization is becoming more scarce i think it's leading to a future where new releases will be entirely unreachable for a large portion of the community which is an issue that should not exist. if 60% of your target audience can't afford to play your game, what's the point?

yeah definitely. &i did somewhat feel this with the new dragon age, there were so many just.. pointless visual effects on the screen, most of which i couldnt turn off, and i couldnt help but think "would this game run better if it didnt have these...?" while style is important, i do think game studios should be focusing more on WHY you need a game to be in a certain visual style. why do you need certain filters etc. veilguard didnt even look good, imo, so whats the point... But also like. games are for two types of people: people with powerful computers, who care about their computers being top of the line and able to run anything, updating whenever they can and people who will buy a new console every console generation, because games are pretty much guaranteed to work on the latest consoles. and unfortunately if you are not a rich pc gamer or a slightly less rich console gamer, you might not be playing the big hits. but like, thats why you get a console, so you can play without needing to worry about an upgrade for several years. Idk. ive never had a console and i just play what i can play. but there are a lot of people out there with consoles. and it seems to be going fine for them, bc if games dont run on consoles theyre promised on, theres usually patches and more work done. I also dont really care about the AAA audience or studios and if the studios go under... Thats not my problem i dont really care if they live or die. Maybe the world would be better off without call of duty,? If gaming companies are fucking us over with optimization, theyre fucking themselves over, and if they have to shut down.. well that's on them. I have other games to play. (& like, when i say innovation in triple A games.. you know whats the kinda shit im talking about its game awards shit its not call of duty its like, god of war, red deaddedemption, death stranding (...2!), elden ring, baldurs gate 3 (not really triple a, but the reach and success can make it feel like one). (Im not personally interested in all of these, but im interested in what they have done for the medium.) of these games that have released, theyve had issues and most have been fixed. And most of them have done things worthy of discussion, even if they take up a lot of space and people like to complain about that. We can only hope interesting games arent dead on arrival because of poor optimization, but it seems most of them havent been.

[drakeanddice]

I'm often bitter and cynical about awards. Don't get me wrong, I'm always happy for the folks who garner those accolades. I like seeing my friends succeed. But the Ennies and awards of their ilk, the sorts of awards that consumers see as a badge of worthiness--or yknow have heard of--leave a bad taste in my mouth.

I could tell you why, but it's much more cogently articulated on the following substack.

https://labyrinthlesbian.substack.com/p/how-much-an-ennie-costssubstance.

I get it. Indies can't win a popularity contest against the big publishers. But most of us can't even afford to take the field.

That being said, this is the only award that I've won in my life that I'm still proud of a year later.

Did it drive sales? No, probably not. But it made me fall in love with my weird fey game again after I'd set it aside for a while. The Ennies will drive sales, because it's the biggest tastemaker (taste affirmer?) in the industry. But I'm broke as a joke and can't pony up the cash to get laughed off the stage, so I'll take a quick nod from a fellow Indie designer.

"Your stuff is cool. Keep going."

That kind of shit matters. It's rocket fuel.