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pixel-cat-1 · 5 years

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I just finished The Outer Worlds

I don’t really ever use this blog for more than reblogging stuff, so this is probably coming out of left field for anyone who follows me, but as you see in the title, I beat The Outer Worlds not a couple of minutes ago. I have some thoughts I’d like to talk about while their fresh, and this is as good a place as any to do that lol

So, what did I think of it? Overall, I think The Outer Worlds is okay game that ultimately fails to meet up in many regards to not only Obsidian’s golden child, Fallout New Vegas, but in some departments even regular ass Bethesda games from years ago. And that’s honestly such a shame, because TOW had so much goddamn potential and yet I finished it and felt practically nothing for the entire last level and final ending sequence.

The main issue I think is that ultimately speaking, TOW doesn’t necessarily do anything different from any other RPG I can think of, and it doesn’t do anything like that super well.

For example, the combat’s good on a technical level. The controls and mechanics are fun to use (especially the dodge system), but the enemies tend to either range from “complete curb stomp bitch babies” to “bullet sponge that’ll kill me so fast I won’t even know what happened.” Most fights weren’t particularly engaging, and I was basically handicapping myself but not using the companion abilities for about 75% of the game (I don’t know why I never tried pressing the d-pad buttons, but yet again, when I can just shoot shit and huff an inhaler, I didn’t need to think too hard). The disparity of how difficult the game can be is often confusing, and I was more often limited because of my ammo count more so than my ability to play the game.

The RP aspects can be good at times. There are plenty of skill checks that reward you for being a smart little egg, and a part of RPG’s I like is being able to avoid combat and make people happy, and generally make myself useful, so that was fairly fun. Overall the dialogue options and the performances by most VA’s left me not feeling like I was being hindered in acting and responding to situations how I’d like, so at the very least, that didn’t let me down.

The music was overall enjoyable, although very forgettable, and sometimes a bit all over the place: there’s Western-y guitar ambient tracks, also some more techno-y ones? Elevator music that sounds like they got it from a royalty free website. This kinda wish-washyness ties into multiple issues I had with the game I’ll get into further on.

The graphics are good, which isn’t necessarily shocking anymore because every game looks good. There are some aesthetic choices I liked, that being things like the Art Deco style architecture and advertisements from the loading screens. Terra 2 is gorgeous as all hell, with the skybox being particularly amazing (I’ve often fantasized about Earth having rings, so this partially fulfills that fantasy). Monarch is overall also very well done, with making it look and feel like a hostile shithole with ravenous wildlife. The looming gas giant overheard also does a good job of making me feel dread, which is about as much of that feeling I ever got. However, the game never really maintains a distinct “style”, rather it collages a bunch of them at once. Because for all the aesthetic of the Art Deco style that they do for cities like Byzantium. there’s like 10 levels/areas that are just generic as all hell “sci-fi space shit” that you’ve seen before. And then there’s Scylla, which is so fucking boring in design I don’t know why it’s even in the game.

This creates an issue where it’s like they wanted to make the game look Bioshock, but some people wanted something out of Mass Effect. But some people played Borderlands, and wanted to go for the wacky space bandit and hostile environment feel. But they also wanted to stick it to Bethesda, so they made is vaguely look like a Fallout game as well. It’s hard to describe in text, so I’m just gonna post these and show it best I can

^ It looks like space Bioshock here

^ And here it reminds me more of Borderlands than anything else (it’s a lot easier to see if you look at it from the ground, rip)

Scylla is literally just a rock. As far as I can tell, you could probably fucking avoid the damn thing if you avoid side quests. There’s fucking nothing there. Just enemies, a few side quest things, an empty town and a giant terraformer thingy that’s interesting to look at for like 4 seconds. And despite what you’d think, no, there is no low gravity. That would’ve at least made this place have some interesting gimmick or mechanic, but no. It’s just a fucking dumping ground for side quests. God. Fucking. Damnit.

All science-y buildings just look like this for the most part across all levels. It’s not bad, just very generic and same-y.

The Groundbreaker’s fairly interesting, until you realize that all it is is essentially a giant corridor front to back. Actually, scratch that, it’s two corridors! One of which is this Back Bays area overrun with criminals. How do you get to this clearly dangerous and isolated part of the ship? Well a fucking elevator smack dab in the middle of the pavilion of course! So anyone can just go up or down into this apparent no man’s land part of the ship by literally going into it via an elevator. Dear god.

^Monarch definitely has one of the best looking environments in the game, tied with Terra 2 down below

But what absolutely fucks the game overall is despite how much effort they put into making everything look nice (regardless if you actually like it or not), the overall level design in terms of function and whatnot? Mind numbingly boring.

All levels are really small maps with (at most) a handful of major buildings or towns depending on the scale, and the rest is just a bunch of abandoned buildings with some enemies, or a crashed ship or something. There's just...nothing going on with half of these dungeons.

Also the vast majority of buildings have a “Quarantine” sign out front or is locked in some capacity, which means you could have 4-5 buildings in a random batch of them along a road, but only 2 you can explore. And since all the fucking interiors across multiple planets look the exact same, it leads to an incredible feeling of sameiness in a game that has you running around an entire solar system. How the fuck even??? I’d argue fucking Fallout 3 handled this better. At least there was more to do! More overall dungeons and levels! Did I miss something? Am I just fucking stupid and I missed the all the good shit?

Combine this with the wish-washy aesthetics and music, it leads to an incredible feeling of not really knowing what to make of things. You’ll just be sprinting around, shooting all the red things on the compass just to get it over with by Monarch. And when you realize that LMG’s are just...the best weapons in the game as far as I could tell, and there’s no real downsize to them, you’ll just fucking run around gunning everything down while some forgettable track plays in the background until some enemy with a weirdly large health bar forces you to think for a bit before you get back to running around and shooting shit again.

Despite this though? I still overall enjoyed the combat. I liked running around and becoming the 4th Horseman. Plus with the mechanics overall being fun to use, it wasn’t really that bad. But I can’t say on an objective level I think it’s good for a game to feel like that. Because despite how heavy handed I’m being right now (and will be throughout the rest of this impromptu review), I don’t hate this game.

Sound design is overall very good. Guns make satisfying shooty shooty bang bang noises, and as I said before, the VA’s are overall very good all around. Parvati stands out as the most interesting character to listen to in general. She has a lot of informal speech patterns that makes her distinct, and is generally a treat to listen talk. At worst, you get a character like Nyoka, who doesn’t sound bad by any real means, but for a lot of her dialogue, I felt they should’ve slowed it down and focused on getting her emotions down. But it certainly wasn’t bad.

Storywise? This game wasn’t particularly interesting. I’m gonna put the keep reading thing here because I want to avoid spoilers for anyone who hasn’t played yet and cares about them. Long story short, I think the game was good, but very disappointing given what it could have been. I enjoyed myself for the most part, but often found the lack of anything super special to really hold it back from achieving something I think the gaming industry needed in an era of, ironically enough, hyper greedy corporations with no morals to speak of.

So, what did I think of the story? And I guess by extension, the side quests. Overall, I think the main story was...not very good. There was a lot of good stuff inbetween though, and a lot of side quests and little things definitely were enjoyable. But the plot is just not nearly as engaging as it should be. Given how short it was though, that might’ve been a mercy.

The story, as roughly as I can summarize is, is that you’re a colonist frozen on the colony ship “Hope.” It’s been adrift for 70 years, but you’re woken up by a guy named Phineas Welles (he’s basically Doc Brown, but nicer). The Board (which consists of the 10 companies who own and run the colony/solar system) try to stop him, but they fail, and you’re escape podded onto Terra 2, near a dying town called Edgewater. The pod accidentally kills the contact you were to meet, so now you’re gonna steal his ship and use it to do shit basically.

Along the way, you pick up a ragtag band of miscreants and general shitheads and kill a lot of people and wildlife in a quest to stop the corrupt Board from running the colony harder into the dirt than they already have. It’s very by the numbers, more or less. I guess.

The immediate issue is that, despite being able to join the Board and betray Phineas if you want, there’s absolutely no fucking reason to do that. Not a single goddamn reason, other than for the evulz. This creates an issue where I feel no reason to deviate from the Phineas side of the story. And I know what someone might be thinking “But Pixel! The Board is supposed to be evil!” And I am absolutely aware of that. But the thing is, so was Caesar’s Legion in Fallout New Vegas. And yet, that faction is often considered just as interesting and compelling a faction for the game as the NCR or Mr. House. People will, to this day, still argue over who had the best idea for solving the Wasteland’s issues. Because despite how evil the Legion is, they still had very valid points about the NCR and how horribly corrupt and bloated it was. And there was absolutely an argument to be made about how safe they made their lands for those under their ownership. Stuff like that that makes you actually consider and think about whether or not you're actually making the right choices for the whole of the New Vegas wasteland, and by extension the rest of the Western part of America.

Here? There’s no contest. There is no necessary evils. There is no good reason the Board does anything. No logic, no reason. All they can do is fuck shit up even more, and that makes them such a boring, vague antagonist that there was never a moment in my mind I actually considered working for them. Any potential moments they had to sway me or dashed aside by them constantly proving how they could never actually fix the problems they made. And if that was the intention? Then Obsidian fucked up.

People remember the villains that raise a point a hell of a lot more than they do villains that are just evil for the sake of it (there are obviously exceptions, for an RPG? you need a compelling villain). And that’s why no one will remember this game in a decade. It pales so hard in comparison to New Vegas, it’s not even funny. It’s on par with Fallout 3, at best. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing if the whole point of this game was to make a statement against an increasingly morally bankrupt Bethesda.

Let’s look at, per se, Skyrim. Paarthurnax was a supporting character with an interesting backstory: he’s Alduin’s brother, who is the main antagonist. He is a dragon that secludes himself on the top of the tallest mountain in Skyrim, who meditates and focuses on suppressing his inherit evil dragon nature. Despite this nature, he chooses to be good. And he asks a very compelling question.

"What is better? To be born good or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?”

In a single sentence, Skyrim asked a more though provoking question than the entirely of The Outer Worlds. And if you played F:NV, then it’s probably weird to hear that, because F:NV was full of moral and philosophical quandaries. So where did it all go?

The thing is, people forget that the Obsidian that made F:NV is dead and gone. The actual people who made that game have all moved on from that company. This is the child trying to replicate the success of it’s parents, without entirely understanding exactly what the parent did to achieve what it achieved.

The biggest difference between F:NV and TOW is that F:NV really forces you to think. TOW just doesn’t require that, at all.

Phineas good, Board bad. No thinking required.

I think the real warning sign is at the beginning of the game as well. Edgewater, the first town in the game, is dying. People are leaving and the town's also dealing with a disease epidemic. The town’s leader’s answer? Cut off power to the deserters, and force them to work harder despite the fact the town’s basically dying because of the overworking and disease. Despite the fact there’s not even enough medicine to heal everyone, and they have to play favorites with who lives and who dies.

What the fuck logic is this? Why would I ever choose that?

The only other choice, unless I missed a compromise solution (which I would’ve wanted) is to route power to the deserters and finish off the town more or less. The deserters wouldn’t take in everyone though, so a lot of people would die anyways. But even then, she’s still clearly the more competent leader. There’s not a goddamn contest.

It just continues like that the whole game. I rarely had to think about who I’d side with. because the solution is obvious. The literal only reason I’d side with the corporations is if I was being evil, nothing else.

The best the story gets is when you need to make a compromise on Monarch between MSI (a corporation who got the boot from the Board) and the Iconoclasts (Religious people who are anti corporation). If you work with the second in command of the Iconoclasts, you can depose their extremist, dipshit leader and work out a truce. Which is good! It rewards the player for this too, when these factions come to help in the final level of the game (and when you see specific characters you could save helping out, that also make it feel like your decisions had an impact). You see the two factions...standing next to eachother, which isn’t much, but it’s about as much change you see in the game.

Which is also another thing that TOW fails to accomplish: a sense of longevity with my decisions leads to me feeling that, despite making the right choices, nothing really changes.

Going back to Edgewater, you’d think after a while, I’d come back and the town would be entirely gone or something, right?

Nope.

Some NPC’s stood outside the factory forever, as did some guards. There weren’t any lights on. That’s about it.

Well, certainly the Deserters must give me more quests to help out, which can lead to me establishing them and helping them help the Edgewaterers, right?

No. Very quickly you realize there’s very little do or talk about with NPC’s after you do monumental decisions. The only functional difference is an opinion slider, which is another imitation from F:NV that means fuck all. The only in game things it affects is: a) The prices of venders of that factions

b) Whether or not that faction will shoot you on site.

That’s it as far as I noticed. The best idea they had, that being that factions can love you, but also fear you just doesn’t do anything. As far as I could tell, at least.

I’d love to be wrong, because I was so excited to see what would happen to entire settlements and after I helped them. After I made important decisions that’d change the face of the colony. And I felt so disappointing when it became apparent little actually mattered.

The companion sidequests aren’t too much better. The pacing is so weird, sometimes, depending on how available certain planets are. Parvati’s was especially jarring, despite it being the best written by far.

It basically is you helping her get with an engineer chick from the Groundbreaker. It’s pretty adorable overall, and without a doubt has some of the better writing character wise, but the pacing was so fucking weird. It initially starts with you getting Parvati to talk to her about engineering stuff. They say they’ll email and stuff about engineering stuff. which is neat. So I run around, finish up all the side quests on the ship as I can, then head back to my own ship. I did not go back to my ship at all during this.

When I come back, Parvati immediately tells me that she and the engineer, Junlei, have been messaging and getting flirty and now she has a crush and it’s just like “Dude, were you texting her while we murdered all those bugs in the engine?”

It’s doubly funny as well, because Obsidian wanted to avoid the player having romanceable characters. Which makes about as much sense as you think. Once source said the reason was that they wanted you to focus on roleplay, and not trying to bang anyone you found hot (okay?). Another just said they weren’t ready for it. And I believe it. As much as I think romance would’ve been another good thing to add depth to this game, I bet you they’d have fucked it up. It’s just funny. Even Fallout 4 had pretty acceptable romances.

Granted the system was fucking basically “Kill shit together until you wanna bang” but fuck, it was something! It also doesn’t help there’s a bunch of cuties all over this game: Huxley stands out as an adorable muffin who becomes a generic NPC at the end of the MSI/Iconoclast questline, despite the fact you can even repair her journal terminal with zero indication at you can do it, which is good! Let me just do things to be nice! But she literally just sits there after you rescue her with a few dialogue options which goes away after the peace deal, and it's so fucking frustrating that I want to enjoy the characters more, but none of them seem to have more than a paragraph's worth of depth to them and it's so sad.

Even the companions are like this. At the beginning I’d try and talk with Parvati about anything, but the only dialogue options would be about getting her out of the party, and that’s it. I can’t ask her what she thinks of things, or of the current quest/situation. There’s such a weird lack of depth in a weird amount of areas, that it felt almost worse than playing a Bethesda game.

I think the penultimate disappointment of the game is, fittingly, the final level, Tartarus. Which is fitting, because it feels very hellish. Not the planet mind you, or the prison which it takes place in, but just the complete lack of anything super special. It’s just the same kind of environments you’ve already run through, but bigger and with more bullet sponge bad guys. Which is funny, because jumping around and killing an army on a purple hell planet that has perpetual lightning storms would’ve been sick as fuck, but nah, gotta run around on Scylla instead of anywhere else compelling.

In my playthrough, MSI, the Groundbreaker, and the Iconoclasts came to help me deal with all the fucking goons, which was mostly cool because I didn’t have to deal with the tediousness of killing every last one of corporate goon myself.

This is about as big of an impact your decisions come to as far as I’ve noticed. Which isn’t saying much.

You meet the Chairman of the Board here, by the way. I just shot him and kept moving. shrugs

There’s also a last minute villain in this Sophia person, who is also apparently on the Board? It’d help if there was a list of the Board people, which could’ve been on a terminal somewhere. Maybe I’m dumb and never found it, which is plausible.

The final boss fight, (I hesitate to call it that) is just somewhat large robot. It’s a bullet sponge with respawning combat drones flying everywhere and they’re very annoying. I died once after around 10 minutes of fighting, then using Parvati and Felix’s (he’s another companion, he’s also okay I guess) combat abilities I knocked it down and layed into the robot’s weak spot. He died very quickly.

So depending on how you do it, the final fucking boss is either stupidly hard or mind numbingly easy. I don’t know which is worse.

So you go past the dead robot, gun down Sophia in one shot, and save Phineas. You basically become the leader of Halcyon, there’s a F:NV-esque slideshow and commentary about your actions that somehow is worse that New Vegas’s, credits roll, and you sit there thinking “That’s it? That’s really it?”

Yeah, that’s it.

It’s such a let down, especially because this was supposed to be Fallout New Vegas’s spiritual successor. But all it does it make me want to play that game instead of this one.Which is probably what you should do regardless if you pick this game up or not.

There’s a bunch of other mechanics and stuff I never brought up. There’s technically a character customization screen, but you literally only see your character in the select menu, and there’s no third person. There’s a barber in Edgewater who’s also a doctor, and yet you can’t even get a haircut from him (again, failing to match up to even Fallout 3).

There’s these Mods you can put on armor and guns, and you find them by the bucket full so you’ll always have those. Just get an aim stabilizing one for an LMG and you’ll be fine. You can also tinker your armor and weapons, making them stronger if you spend credits on it (why not the armor and weapon parts, I’ll never fucking know). You can repair your stuff at a workbench, which is advisable. Just take all the weapons and armor you pick up, take it apart for parts, and never worry about it again. You’ll get money from quests, so buying those parts is meaningless and a waste of money

There’s also hacking and stealth and stuff. Stealth is such a non...thing in the game. There’s no silencers, but since all enemies decided to put cotton into their ears, there’ll be plenty of times I shoot someone, and a guy ten feet away heard fucking nothing. Plus there’s this disguise mechanic where you pick up ID guards and get a hologram disguise that wears out as you walk (passing speech check from suspicious guards restores it), so it’s not like sneaking around was ever a priority. Just put your points into the speech. Stealth is a dump stat more or less.

Oh yeah, Parvati’s an ace lesbian. Which is nice that they handled that way in a non-dipshit way (you can also identify as ace in certain dialogue with her in her companion questline, which is funny considering they never let you fuck anyways, so it’s weird that you even have the choice). My only complaint is that they should’ve put this representation in a better game.

What’s funny is that, despite everything, I don’t even hate this game. I feel a remarkable numbness, followed by a desire for something better. I spent about a week burning through it? If I had more free time, I could’ve finished it sooner probably. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. It was pretty fun for what it was, but knowing that this is somehow supposed to match up to what F:NV was is sad, and a sign of how bad the gaming industry had fallen.

The only difference here is that unlike the Outer Worlds, I can’t purge the rot of the gaming industry with a haelstrom of plasma bullets.

Would I recommend this game? I guess. There’s still some fun to be had, but don’t expect anything too major or interesting. Get it on sale, it;s not worth $60 right now. There’s apparently DLC coming out for it eventually? I might play it, and I might post an update to this review, or make a seperate post for that eventually. Depends on how well this one does? Or if the DLC makes me feel enough emotion to type something out like this in 2 straight hours.

#the outer worlds #fallout #obsidian #bethesda #skyrim #review #parvati holcomb #felix millstone #phineas welles #huxley #i might make a post about other miscellaenous grievances #but don't count on it

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starwitch3000 · 5 years

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What’s Your Story - 1

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Summary: After having a not so great couple of weeks the reader finds their way to The Milano a dive bar in NYC where they meet the owner Peter Quill

Warning: Drinking and language

masterlist - ff.net

You were having a terrible day. Well, maybe more accurately, days plural. You were up for a promotion at work, you were currently an editor at an online news website, but your so called “in the bag” promotion your boss had promised was instead handed to some new guy they hired. You were bitter because you gave this job 3 whole years of your life and this was the thanks you got.

Another thing, your boyfriend of a year dumped you a couple of weeks ago because he got a job offer overseas and didn’t think you’d want to go with him, not that he asked. He also didn’t want to do a long distance relationship because he just wasn’t feeling it. So now he’s dead to you.

The list of tiny annoying day to day things just kept piling on your shoulders. Like someone taking your coffee order and having to pay for a new coffee because the barista didn’t believe you. Having your cab taken 4 separate times by 4 different people. Being sent an email by your boss asking why you weren’t in a meeting that you clearly were and participated in. Having your lunch being stolen from fridge in the break room and never getting your lunch bag back. Having to buy a new lunch bag.

With everything piling up things just became too much. That’s why you texted your best friend, Natasha Romanoff, to meet up for some drink at a bar near your apartment. She agreed and you headed out to make your way there. Your sour mood prompted you to walk and the fact that the bar you were heading to, The Milano, was only a couple blocks away.

You made it to the bar and headed in. It was a Friday night so you were a little surprised to see that the place wasn’t too terribly packed. Though you had to admit this place was a little run down and the people that were there looked a little sketchy. This is New York after all so who were you to judge.

You headed up to the bar and took a seat at it. You pulled out your phone while you waited for the bartender to finish up the customer he was already with and to check and see if Natasha had sent you an update.

She had.

Not a good one.

Work called have to bail. I’m so sorry you know I’d be there if it weren’t important. xx

Frowning at your phone you hadn’t realized the bartender approached you or that he was talking to you.

“Hello?” he whistled waving his hand slightly in front of you, “you’re not deaf are you? Cause if you are then you’re totally making me feel like an asshole right now.”

“Huh?” snapping out of the pity party going on in your head you looked up at the bartender. He was a tall, well built man with dark blonde hair and green eye. He looked stupidly handsome and you couldn’t help but stare. He tossed the towel in his hands over his shoulder as he raised an eyebrow at you. You coughed wishing you could sink into the floor and disappear out of embarrassment, “Sorry?”

“What can I get ya?” He repeated with a kind but snarky smile. He totally noticed you gawking at him that asshole.

Well Nat left you hanging but you were already here so why not, “Whisky neat cheapest you got.”

With a bit of flare he tossed your glass into the air catching before setting it on the counter to pour your drink, “Here you are,” He slides the glass over to you with a charming smile, “enjoy.”

Show off.

You gave him a pressed smile and lifted the glass in thanks as he went to take care of a new customer. Taking a sip you looked down at your phone unlocking it to Natasha message.

No worries. Call me when you can. xx

You sent her a quick reply just so she knew you weren’t mad, disappointed sure but not mad, you knew how seriously she took her work. You wish you felt the same honestly, but this past week at work had you reconsidering what you actually wanted from your job. Sure it paid well enough and you had been there long enough to be on the company's insurance plan, but that was about it. You landed that editing job straight out of college and you were so proud of that for so long. Maybe your pride had hidden what you really wanted to achieve.

“So what’s your story?”

Pulled from your thoughts you tighten your grip on your phone and looked up to see the bartender had made his way back towards your end of the bar where you sat alone.

“Excuse me?” You asked confused.

“What’s your story?” He asks again, “What brings someone like you to The Milano alone on a Friday night?”

“I’m sorry, someone like me?”

“No offense ma’am but you don’t exactly fit the demographic of this bar,” he shrugged as you both took a glance around at the other patrons of the establishment. You found he was not wrong. Most of the people looked like they were criminals. Covered in scars and tattoos with permanent scowls on their faces.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Taking another sip of your drink, “I think I fit in perfectly here.”

He snorted, “Right. I guess you are just as brooding as the rest of these chumps.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you scoffed offended.

“Walking in here with a look on your face that says “I’m thinking about murder” and sitting all by yourself nursing a whisky,” He explains then nods to himself, “No you’re absolutely right you fit right in.”

“Huh,” you breathed loosening your phone from your grip and set it down next to your glass. You processed his words for a moment, it makes you wonder if he was checking you out when you first arrived, looking up at him he seemed to be doing that. His head slightly tilted and eyes slightly darkened as his eyes traced your face. Biting your lip you asked, “I really look like I’m thinking about murder?”

“You telling me you’re not?”

“No, but to be fair I have been tossing around the idea of some light arson so that could be what you’re picking up.”

“Arson?” His eyebrow cocked up intrigued, “alright now you’ve got my attention. Let’s hear all about this.”

You snorted as if you hadn’t already had his attention, “You really want to stand here and talk to me?”

“Well if I’m being honest this place is a little slow tonight and unless a bachelorette party comes stumbling through those doors you’re the most interesting person I can be talking to right now,” He explains.

You laughed and shook your head, “Dunno, that guy seems pretty interesting,” You nodded your head to only other guy actually sitting all the way at the other end of the bar. He was hunched over in his seat picking at the label on his beer as he intensely read the subtitles of the movie playing on one of the tv on the wall, “maybe you should find out what his story is.”

“Nah that’s just Kraglin I’ve known him forever,” He explained playing with the towel in his hand, “You however mentioned arson and I would like to hear all about it. What do you want to set on fire the most?”

Rolling your eyes you decided to play along, “Do I have to pick just one thing?”

He gasped, “A serial arsonist. This just keeps getting better. Let’s start with the one thing you want to burn the most. Like if you could set this fire right now what would it be?”

“Okay,” you let out a long breath and thought it over. What to burn first, “Probably my bosses office - wait no, my ex.”

“Work trouble and love trouble? That’s a nasty duo.”

“Yeah well my boyfriend dumped me for a job overseas. He’s going to be some regional manager for whatever doing whatever in Turkey. He didn’t want me to move with him so he just ended things,” you explained bitterly.

“How long were you guys together?”

“Little over a year.”

“Geeze,” He hisses in sympathy, “Did you guys even talk about it?”

“Nope,” you said popping the p, “He just decided for me that I wasn’t going to move with him.”

“Would you?”

“If he asked me?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah I think I would have. We were together for so long I thought we were good. If he asked me I probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought,” you answered hating yourself slightly for all the time wasted on him.

“What about if he walked into this bar right now and asked you?” He asked.

“I’d kick him straight in the nuts,” you immediately answered.

“I don’t think I like how quick that response was,” He grimaced, “Yikes. Now what about your boss?”

“Well,” you sighed, “I usually don’t have any issues at work but recently I was up for a promotion and he told me that the job was basically mine they just had to do other interviews so that the higher ups didn’t think it was favoritism or whatever.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an editor for an online news outlet. Been there for like 3 years now.”

He nodded and let you continue.

“So they had a couple of interviews and decided to give the job to one of those guys and not me. I asked my boss why and he said that this guy was much more qualified for the position and he figured I wouldn’t care so much anyways,” you finished feeling the same bitterness that you felt when you had left your bosses office after being turned down from the promotion.

“That’s shitty,” He sighed, “What a dick man.”

“Tell me about it,” you rolled your eyes taking a drink.

“Ay Pete, hand me another beer would ya,” Kraglin from the other end of the bar interrupted waving his now empty bottle toward the bartender, Pete you guess.

“So that’s what brought you here?” He asked cracking a fresh beer open and sliding it down the bar towards Kraglin not breaking the flow of his conversation with you, “A deadbeat ex and a shithead employer?”

“I was actually meeting up with a friend,” you explained watching Kraglin nearly tip over the new beer over but saving it last minute, “but she canceled last minute because of work.”

“You want to set her office on fire too?” Pete asked preparing himself for another story.

You chuckled, “No, god no. She’s a detective usually when she gets called in like this there is usually a dead guy.”

“Oh,” he paused, “well shit. Better be careful with all this crime you’re about to commit. Don’t worry I wont tell.”

“Gee thanks stranger,” you teased causing him to laugh.

“It’s Peter actually. Peter Quill owner of this fine establishment,” He declared gesturing around the bar.

“Fine establishment?” You questioned, “Weren’t you the one saying this place was running slow on a Friday night?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Peter gasped in mock offense, “Is the not New York, the city that always sleeps?”

“Not sure that’s how it goes Pete,” You shook your head sympathetically.

“Pretty sure that’s exactly how it goes.”

“Whatever you say man. I’m (Y/N) by the way. (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you smiled, “Now you’ve got a name to give the cops when you go to snitch on me.”

“Okay first of all, I would never snitch. Have you seen the people in this bar? They would eat me alive if I was some kind of snitch. Secondly, I am one hundred percent sure that’s a fake name now, but I’ll call you (Y/N) anyways,” dramatically he put air quotes around your name when he spoke.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re dramatic as hell Pete?” You asked with a smile.

“No not even once,” he frowned, “alright maybe a couple of times, but that’s not the point.”

“And what’s the point?”

“I feel for you man,” He said sincerely, “getting dumped fucking sucks and then not getting a dream job on top of that? It’s rough.”

“Well I wouldn’t call it a dream job,” you said thinking it over, “Just a different job. Rising through the ranks. Getting better pay. Got any pretzels?”

“What’s your dream job then?” He asked reached over for a bowl of pretzels on the bar handing them to you.

You thought over his question for a minute while snacking on a pretzel. What was your dream job? You were an English major for a reason, because your passion growing up was writing. You used to write all the time what happened? This job that’s what happened.

You sighed knowing exactly what your dream job was but also knowing that it’s nearly impossible to get where you want to be.

“(Y/N)? Did I lose you?” Peter questioned and you looked up to meet his gaze.

“Sorry, no, just thinking it over,” you apologized.

“And?”

“What?”

He sighed exasperated, “what’s the dream job haunting your dreams?”

You rolled your eyes, “I guess I’ve always wanted to be a writer. And not some shitty news writer. Like my own stories. Put my own thoughts and opinions on paper and see who picks it up you know?”

“So what’s stopping you?” Peter blinks watching your face carefully.

Squirming under his gaze you suddenly felt the pressure, “Me I guess. I don’t know where to start or if I’m any good. I’m just paralyzed by my own fear of failure and it makes me want to stay where I am and just blend in for the rest of my life. Always having opportunities placed in front of me but never getting to experience them.”

“That is a load of bullshit,” he scoffed.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I think that is all a bunch of bullshit,” He repeated a little harshly.

“And what gives you the right to say that? You barely even know me!” you jumped feeling overwhelmed by his confrontation.

“Sure I do your ex is a douche, your best friend is a cop and your name is probably not (Y/N),” He shrugged, “That’s pretty much everything.”

Baffled you shook your head, “I don’t really think it is.”

“Well,” He started placing his hands on the edge of the bar leaning forward, “It’s plenty enough for me to know that you’re going to be miserable if you keep doing what you’re doing because guess what, you already are.”

“I’m not miserable,” You interrupted, “I’m just having a bad week!”

“Who is the bartender here and who is the girl drinking by herself?”

You refused to answer.

Smugly he continued, “This is my job honey, I know people, even when they don’t want me to. And right now I know that you are stuck not because you’re afraid of failing. You’re afraid of wasting your time and you wont accept that you already have. You wasted a year with some dickwad who didn’t care enough to get your opinion on your relationship together. You’ve wasted your time working for some assholes that don’t recognize your desire to achieve more. It’s time to pull your head out of your ass and take something that you want.”

You hated it. You hated every single word that left his mouth. You hated the way he said it. You hated how it sounded. Mostly you hated that it was all true.

“What the fuck dude?” You huffed feeling out of breath for him. Peter was proving to be extremely long winded.

“Am I wrong?”

“Well no, obviously, but can’t you just let a girl wallow in self pity for an evening?” you question, “Geeze.”

He rolled his eyes standing up straight again, “You’re way too pretty for that sweetheart.”

“Great. Good to know. Next time I just want to drink and feel sad I’ll just stay at home then,” you nodded to yourself looking at the remainder of your drink in your glass.

“Sorry didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries, “He sighed, “but this bar is my life, even though some of us here are unimpressed by that,” he shot you a cocky wink, “and if someone hadn’t told me to get my head out of my ass and do something I love then we wouldn’t be here today.”

“And who was that?”

“Well my mom always told me to do what I love but after she passed away it was my foster dad that was always telling me to get my head out of my ass,” He explained.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Not it was for good reason,” He said, “I was a shithead.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes “was”, “I meant about your mom passing. I’m sorry to hear that. My mom passed away too when I was younger.”

His lips pressed into a line and he nodded looking at the surface of the bar, “It sucks.”

You nodded in agreement settling into a silence. Loss was something you both seemed all too familiar with. You had noticed that he had said foster dad and not his dad but you didn’t want to bring up two intrusive topics in a row. Things felt a little too personal and that’s saying a lot seeing as you just told a random stranger all your most recent problems. It’s clearly something he’s used to him being a bartender and all. People must come in here and bare their souls to him all the time.

The sound of your cell phone buzzing made both of you jump. You picked it up to see Natasha picture flashing across the screen. A wave of confusion and mild panic hit you.

“Sorry hang on,” you told Peter and answered her call never knowing when it could be an emergency, “hey what’s up?”

Through the phone all you hear is her aggravated sigh, “Just got finished dealing with a bunch of teenagers who thought it would be funny to prank call some detectives about fake homicide. They didn’t even use burners to hide their identities or anything but were oh so shocked that they got caught.”

“That awful. What’s going to happen to those kids?” you asked biting your lip listening to your friend.

“Don’t know probably community service. I’ve been dealing with hysterical parents for the last hour. They’ve got court dates and the judge will decide the rest,” she sighed through the phone, “In the meantime I am free again and really want some extra cheesy pizza from Romeo’s, want to come over and yell at each other?”

“Wow,” you replied, “you really know a way to girls heart don’t you.”

“What can I say? I’m a gifted individual now come on over and I can show you more of my talents,” She teased.

“You gotta stop it with the dirty talk babe I’m in public,” you said causing Peter to laugh.

“Where are you?” Natasha dropped the teasing tone instantly curious, “Is that a guy?”

“The Milano,” you chose to only answer her first question.

“Seriously? You still went?”

“I was already here when you bailed,” you explained, “figured I’m already out might as well get what I came for.”

“Is that place any good? I know we’ve been meaning to check it out and tonight would have been that night if not for, you know, teenagers,” the bitterness of her tone did not go unnoticed.

“Eh, it’s alright,” your unimpressed tone was purely for Peter listening to just one side of this conversation, “It’s kind of dirty but they’ve got pretzels.”

You grinned as you earned a glare from Peter.

“Hot guy I hear ya,” Natasha murmured understanding the context of a situation she wasn’t even a part of, “tell me scale of one to ten where is he?”

“Eh, maybe like a three,” you replied loving the baffled looks you were getting from Peter seeing as he thought you were still talking about his bar.

“Shit really?” reading way more into your reply than you had intended, “look if you need to bail in order to get some I will not blame you.”

“Nah it’s not like that.”

“Oh really?” she questioned, “or are you just saying that because he’s standing right in front of you and you too scared to admit you want to jump on him and ride him till sunrise?”

If not for the little bit of alcohol in your system you would probably turn beat red hearing your friend say this while you stare directly at the man in question. You bit your lip considering it, “No I’m pretty sure it’s just because you enticed me pizza and now I’m going to hold you to that.”

Natasha laughed, “Alright I’ll order it now see you in a bit.”

“See you,” you smiled and hung up the phone.

“Someone have a hot date?” Peter asked sounding slightly disappointed.

“Yeah sorry to leave you like this,” you grabbed your wallet out of your purse only to look up and see his pout, “really? Pouting? Is that how you get all of your regulars?”

“It worked on Kraglin,” He shrugged dropping the pout.

“Sorry I’m just not that kind of girl,” you took out some cash and paid for your drink, “the only way to keep me around is food and sorry but pizza trumps pretzels.”

He gasped in fake disbelief.

“I know. I’m sorry but I make the rules and that’s just how this one goes,” you shrugged and got out of you seat. For the first time all week you finally felt yourself settle into a good mood. It made you feel lighter. You smiled up at Peter, “Thanks for the talk. I really needed it.”

“Anytime,” He smiled softly, “You’ll know where I’ll be.”

With that you left and headed toward Natasha place anxiously anticipating some pizza.

chapter two

Alright chapter one stay tuned for more. Also sorry for any mistakes things can slip by when proof reading but if I don’t post this now I never will. So let me know what you think and I promise chapter two is on its way! ~Star

#peter quill x reader #peter quill #peter quill bartender au #bartender au #modern au #starlord #starlord x reader #slowburn

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hoseokmylovesworld · 5 years

Text

Picture of Love | 04

Pairing: Photographer!Hoseok x OC x Producer!Yoongi

Genre/Warnings: Hoseok AU/Yoongi AU/Includes strong language.

Words: 3,598

Summary: Charlotte Galloway is the leader of the up and coming girl band, “She-Bang”, with a side hustle as a photographer for anyone who will hire her. She meets a fellow professional photographer named Jung Hoseok who helps “She-Bang” realize their dreams and Charlotte to make a love connection along the way.

I walk back to my hotel room with only thoughts of J-Hope for the third time time this week, which meant I had that stupid ass grin on my face while stumbling down the halls of the sixth floor. I held the key card up to the lock on the door and walk in, in the hopes of hitting my bed headfirst. I was surprised to see my band members, Darren and Kyle sitting on the beds in Leyah's and my shared bedroom. They each stop talking and whip their heads in my direction as soon as I walk in.

"Oh. Hey...Everyone. What's up?" I say awkwardly, making my way to my bed that Carrie and Vicky are already sat on. Leyah, Darren and Kyle are perched on Leyah's bed. Vicky begins to speak.

"Uh, nothing. We were just talking about-"

"Where were you?" Darren cuts her off monotonously. "O-kay..." Vicky says to no one in particular. Carrie proceeds to rub Vicky's back in comfort.

"Why?" I question defensively, my bubbly, good mood ruined. Leyah groans as if she can already see where this is going, but doesn't comment.

"Well, you just left the group all of a sudden and we were worried." Darren looks me in the eye, raising his voice slightly. My face scrunches up in confusion and disbelief. Even if the group hadn't known where I was, Darren certainly could have told them, he saw me leave after all. I decide to leave that part out in my response.

"It wouldn't be the first time I 'left the group' Darren." I say using air quotes. "It's no big deal."

Darren's eyes go wide with accusation. "Yeah, but it's different this time because-" He stops himself. Leyah spares him a brief apologetic glance from the side. Kyle mirrors this expression.

"Because what?!" I urge, getting impatient.

"Ugh! Because you left with that strange guy!" He shouts. My shoulders slumped in disappointment.

Are you kidding me?

"Is that what this is about?" I nearly whisper, still trying to wrap my head around this situation.

"Yes--No!" Darren stumbled. His breathing picked up noticeably. "I just don't-"

"What Darren means to say is the band is a little bothered that you skipped out on us, especially when some hotshot photographer approached us and our leader wasn't there and Darren is pissed for God knows why." Leyah explained in one breath, which didn't seem to phase her.

Well, now I understand the intervention like setting, but that doesn't explain Darren's resentment.

Back up.

"So wait. A photographer approached you?" I said, wanting to get to the bottom of this and avoid another one of Darren's outbursts.

"Yeah." Leyah continued. "Offered to make those posters and pics for our website we been wantin' so bad. Also talked a big game about getting us in touch with some 'important people'." She explains with heavy lidded eyes and air quotes.

Oh wow. This could be great. A push in the right direction without the help of Evan whatsoever. I originally took "official" photos of the group and posted them to our website, but I'm no professional and this could benefit us in a variety of ways, especially if they get us in touch with these 'important people'.

"Well. Did he sell you? Did you all like him?" I look around at my members for confirmation, avoiding eye contact with Darren.

Leyah nods. "We exchanged information. By that I mean I gave him your number." She spoke in her usual monotonous drawl. I can't tell how she feels about the situation.

I sigh. "Well, that's good. I'm glad...Um. I'm sorry I wasn't there guys. Really." I say trying to get back on their good side, but I noticed the only face that was actually bothered was Darren's.

"It's okay Char, I handled it. Plus you couldn't have known." Forgiveness actually seeping into her tone, but she glared in Darren's direction while she spoke.

Ohhhhh-kay.

"And that's why you're second in command." I replied happily. She looks away form Darren to salute me causing the girls and I to laugh lightly. "So...Are we cool?" I look at the girls with hopeful eyes.

"Yeah."

"Sure."

"Of course."

"Okay. Cool. I'm gonna get ready for be-" Before I could finish, Darren exasperatingly made his way out of the hotel room, slamming the door for good measure. Kyle stands from the bed instinctively, but doesn't move to follow him.

"What. The. Fuck. Is his problem?" I don't bother to control my volume, being utterly shocked by Darren's behavior.

"I don't know. I'm going to bed. Night." Leyah sighs and goes to lie down and browse on her laptop. Kyle moves closer to the door and out of her way. "Night I guess." I say.

"Oh and Char?" Leyah turns to me. "Don't let him get to you okay?" Her eyes were serious. They were sympathetic, but they sent a warning. I just nod absentmindedly, not being able to tell if she was talking about Darren or J-Hope. Or both.

Kyle hesitates in front of the door before locking eyes with me. "I'm glad you're okay Char."

"Thank you."

"Goodnight everyone." He leaves silently, unlike his furious best friend next door.

"Night guys." Says Vicky as she moves into the family room and Carrie, surprisingly, follows her. "Night." I change and take off my makeup, change into my pj's, slide into bed and check my phone before going to sleep. I saw a heap of messages and missed calls from my band mates, Darren and Kyle.

Okay now I feel a little guilty. Maybe just wandering off was a bit much. But it was kind of worth it.

I see a text from J-Hope and my face immediately lights up.

J-Hope: Hey. I know I walked you to your hotel, but I just wanted to make sure you got up to your room okay.

Me: That has to be the lamest excuse a guy has ever made up to talk to me. *laughing face emoji*

J-Hope: I know lol, but it took me 15 minutes to come up with, gimme some credit. *crying face emoji*

J-Hope: Also is it working? *winking face emoji*

I laugh out loud and try to control my volume when Leyah whips her head at me because I startled her. "Sorry." She nods and continues her browsing.

Me: OK, good job J-Hope. I'm fine and maybe. Did you get in okay?

J-Hope: Yup not to long ago. Now I can sleep soundly, knowing you're okay.

I literally have to roll my eyes, but I end up smiling like an imbecile.

Me: You're so lame...But thank you for caring.

J-Hope: No problem. Hopefully when we do this again I can do more than just see you off and text you if you're alright. *winking face emoji*

I could just hear the vibrations of his deep voice as if he were standing in front of me right now.

God the devil is tempting me again.

"Don't let him get to you."

What can I do? Do I flirt back or do I let him down easy? There is no easy, we are in too deep. But Leyah's words and the promise we made with Carrie and Vicky a year and a half ago kept echoing in my head. The promise we made never to get involved in relationships or romance.

"Love is just a distraction." I said to them with a bitter bite to my voice. We sat in a circle on the living room floor of Leyah's parent's house. Carrie and Vicky came here because it's where we would rehearse, I came here because it's where I stayed.

We had just been enjoying a romantic movie after a successful rehearsal when I began to get emotional and start crying. Memories of my previous relationship haunting me the longer I watched this couple on the screen interact.

The girls, of course, comforted me and I ended up telling them my whole life story, the parts I hadn't already shared with them.

"It distracts you from your goals and being all that you can be. It makes you weak. We are not weak." The girls look at me like I'm an anomaly they have to figure out even though they've already known me for seven months. "We will be successful...right?" I look around to see thoughtful eyes and caring expressions. I could tell they took what I said to heart. They each started to nod one by one. Leyah reaches for my hand and mine latches around her's for strength. I can feel more tears begin to fall. "We will be successful Char. Thank you." She said, her eyes never leaving mine. I nod once.

"Let's make a promise from here on out. That we will not get mixed up in silly relationships or romance until we are where we belong. At the top." I say strongly. You wouldn't be able to tell I had been crying if it weren't for the tears streaks on my face.

The girls think it over. "I'm down. Promise." Leyah says first, smiling me. It gave me immense comfort seeing as she doesn't do it often. "Yeah, I guess that's fine." Vicky piped up. "As long as I can still have sex, you got yourself a promise Char." She chuckles. We all turn to Carrie. "Well, I've never really been in relationship anyway so...sure. I promise."

"Don't let him get to you." I whisper to myself. He already has. But I really don't want to let my girls down or make them feel like I'm going back on my word. I could tell him I'm not looking for a relationship right now and tell him to wait for me.

This man does not wait! He's off meettin' bitches in Dubai! Men like J-Hope, with so much to offer, don't wait, they take what they want. They either settle down or move on to the next.

Are we ready for that? To be a one man woman again and try the romance thing one more time? I know I haven't laughed the way I laughed tonight in an incredibly long time and J-Hope was the reason for that. He made me feel wanted and happy and appreciated. Shit I sound like air supply again.

But the fact that all of that can be felt on one not-date is remarkable to me. It took me five months to completely warm up to my last boyfriend, the shithead, and J-Hope managed to crack the code after three days for Christ's sake. I mean if J-Hope had leaned in any closer before he played the shit out of me and walked away, I 105% would have let him kiss me. God help me.

Maybe this is a sign that I should probably try again. Maybe I don't have to be so afraid of love anymore.

I just thought that word...and didn't cringe. Progress.

I was just a shell of a girl back then. Not knowing which way was up, just that I would get there. I had my heart torn apart and shredded and wanted nothing to do with bonding with new people or creating relationships in the slightest. So I didn't let anyone in for two years, had meaningless sex to fill the void, drank myself blind and wrote depressing songs to expel the painful thoughts.

But now...what was the point? It's been two years. Do I really want to be alone for the rest of my life? Can I force my friends to make the same sacrifices I did? I should never have done that to them, it wasn't right. I just hope they can forgive me for what I'm about to get myself into.

J-Hope: No problem. Hopefully when we do this again I can do more than just see you off and text you if you're alright. *winking face emoji*

Me: What if I told you there might be a strong possibility of that happening?

J-Hope texts back immediately.

J-Hope: I'd say what are you doing this Saturday? I snicker at his reply gaining a suspicious look from Leyah.

Me: I don't know. You wanna decide for me?

J-Hope: Yes please. *smiley face emoji* How about dinner and drinks? Gary Danko?

Dinner and drinks? At Gary Danko?! That's like a five star restaurant! I should have known he had this kind of money. I do a little squeal causing Leyah to turn to me once again. "Char please. Silence is key." Silence is the enemy.

"I'm sorry." I say and reply to J-Hope.

Me: That sounds great actually.

J-Hope: Great. I look forward to it.

Me: Me too. Goodnight J-Hope.

J-Hope: Didn't we do this already? *crying laughing emoji* OH god here we go.

Me: Yeah except this time I don't look like an idiot. *flat line mouth emoji*

J-Hope: You're the cutest idiot I've ever seen. I roll my eyes and let out a giggle. Fuck you Jung Hoseok.

Me: Goodnight J-Hope.

J-Hope: Goodnight Charlotte.

Lord what did I get myself into?

++++++++

I wake up the next morning knowing I had nothing in particular to do today.

Should I even leave the bed? Yes. I get up and get ready for the day, whatever it may bring. I get dressed and lounge on my bed once again, scrolling through social media on my phone. Our fans left some nice comments on different outlets.

Should I text J-Hope? I toss the question around in my head and decide that it wouldn't be smart. I already allowed him to get an idea of how I feel about him, I don't want to text him 24/7 and seem desperate. Maybe I'll make him wait until the weekend. That'll teach him for playing me.

But I hate not having anything to do, I need to stay busy. I can't just sit here and wait for my band mates to pester me about why I wandered off last night and tease me about where I was. I respond to a few fans online, then I grab my wallet, phone and camera and head for the door not knowing where I was going.

But when I open the door I'm met with Darren preparing to knock on the door, fist mid knock. He's almost as dumbfounded as I am when we face each other each other. "Uh, hey." He said in a low, unsure tone. His fist reaches up to the back of his neck and scratches nervously.

"Good morning." I reply strongly. "Excuse me." I say moving out of the room and trying to avoid this conversation. He moves further into my path and I glare up at him quizzically.

"Actually can we talk?" No. "Yeah, sure." I sigh. "They're sleeping, let's go somewhere." I move out and close the door behind me. "Okay. Where to?" He asks following me down the hallway to the elevator. "I don't know. You wanna get a drink?" We step into the elevator once it arrives.

"It's a bit early to be drinking Char." He drones in a judgmental but sarcastic tone.

He's not wrong, but-

"I meant like Starbucks genius."

"Oh! Sorry." Darren let's out a laugh and I follow suit. At least it's not as awkward in here with just the two of us now.

"But yeah that sounds good." Darren says looking down at me, meeting my eyes finally. I smile softly at him in turn and look away. We silently walk two blocks to a cafe near the hotel. We order separately because Darren knows my policies on letting other people pay for me. We sit with our orders and take a few sips each before Darren clears his throat.

"So I wanted to apologize." I just raise my eyebrows and nod once, gesturing for him to continue. "I'm sorry about last night. I acted out of turn and you didn't deserve that." I nodded not really knowing how to respond. Darren was behaving like a child last night and it wasn't appreciated, but he's usually a hot head and I wasn't expecting something like this.

"Um. It's okay, I guess." I left it there, not wanting to get into the actual dispute, knowing where the conversation would go.

"Good, I just-" Oh no. "Like I said, I was just worried because you walked away with that-that guy." He said the last word in disgust. Let's get this over with.

"I did apologize to the girls for that." He makes a face that suggest I might be mistaken about the topic of discussion. "I wasn't talking about-"

"Lemme finish, yeah?" Don't let him bring it up.

He pauses and nods and sits back in his seat. "I have to apologize to you as well. I'm sorry I ditched you guys at the concert last night and it won't happen again." He nods, still obviously bothered by something.

"I appreciate that, really." He says thoughtfully. "Of course." I take a sip of my coffee. Can I go now?

We sat in silence for a few moments when Darren opens his whore mouth.

"So are you dating the dude?" Fuck.

He looks at me hesitantly, like he was afraid of my answer. I would like to be, yes.

"No. Uh. He's just a friend. Why?" "Well you don't have many friends." "Well he's one of them." "Okay." We go back and forth.

He becomes flustered all of a sudden. He clears his throat and fiddles with his napkin on the table. At this moment I can see J-Hope enter the cafe looking from side to side. Is he sure he's not stalking me?

Should I call him over to get me out of this mess? Would that make matters worse? I mean we have to deal with Darren sometime anyway. We've been skirting around this for so long now. The fact that we were obviously attracted to each other. If Darren asked me to sleep with him a week ago and any time before that I would have obliged, but I'm starting to think Darren has something more serious in mind than a one night stand because of the way he's acted these past couple of weeks. And I've decided to give J-Hope a chance so that's been put on hold.

"Uh, I was wondering, since you're single, uh, I'm single, ha..." I'm cringing please help. Send help!

"And I know you don't date, but...is there any possibility that, uh, maybe w-we-"

"Charlotte!" Thank you God.

J-Hope ended up being my savior anyway. A sign?

J-Hope bounds over to me excitedly. He rests his hand on my shoulder. "Hey Char! We just keep meeting each other like this. Oh I'm sorry, I'm J-Hope, hello." He says turning to Darren and holding out his hand. Darren openly glares at J-Hope, but takes his hand. The knuckles on J-Hope's hand go almost white and he winces from the intensity of the handshake.

J-Hope frees himself from Daren's grip and I send Darren daggers with my eyes.

"J-Hope, this is my friend Darren. Sorry about him, he's had a tragic day so far." I say emoting contempt in Darren's direction.

"Yeah, it's uh, nice to meet you." J-Hope muttered composing himself. "I remember you from the blues hall." J-Hope quickly pointed at Darren at his epiphany. "Likewise." Darren interrupts his glare at J-Hope to send a suggestive glance at me. I can practically hear the gears turning in J-Hope's head judging by his expression. He keeps looking back and forth between Darren and I and I can see a look of regret on his face, probably for intruding on this 'moment' between Darren and I.

No no no no no no!

"Okaaayyyy. I'm gonna go now. It was nice meeting you Darren and nice seeing you again Charlotte--Oh! We're still on for Saturday right?"

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.

Darren's eye brows touch the ceiling and his eyes go wide. J-Hope is turned away from Darren and thankfully cannot see this. "Uh--Yes. Yes we are...yup." I say looking down at the table. "Okay. See you then. Bye guys." He walks away to get his coffee leaving me in this shit stain of a predicament. I watch him exit as Darren watches his own fiddling fingers.

"Just friends huh?" He grunts with a sick to his stomach look on his face.

Hold the fuck up! He's mad at me again?!

"Hold on! That's none of your business anyway! I don't have to prove myself to you!" I say raising my voice, blinded too much by anger to remember we were in public.

"I just don't understand-!" He shouts back. Darren's volume matches mine, but he stops himself, huffs out a huge breath I didn't know he was holding and plops his hands down on the table loudly.

"You're right Char." He says calmly. "I fucking know." I say still full of adrenaline. Darren let's out a bitter chuckle. What the fuck?

"I'm just gonna go. See ya later." He takes his coffee and leaves the shop.

Well shit. We came here together, now I have to sit here with this crowd who just witnessed my public 'domestic argument'. Plus he looks pissed and a little hurt. I have to fix this somehow before things get awkward. But I also don't feel like making even more of a scene than we already did by following him. I also just don't feel like doing this.

#j-hope fanfic #suga fanfic #junghoseok #minyoongi #bts #btsfanfiction #AMBW #humour #kpop #sugardaddyj-hope

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dearlytea · 6 years

Text

This was a message I sent a few months ago to a friend when I just made my Tumblr account. The question she asked me was “Do you expect to get any followers on Tumblr? Or meet anyone there?”

Of course I didn’t believe her and thought I wouldn’t do shit here.... Yet here we are today celebrating my birthday/first milestone on this blog. Wow, never knew my 69th birthday would involve Tumblr...

I’ve learned a lot during my time here, and it’s still scary to believe that I was one decision away from not meeting all the friends I adore now. Besides learning how to use this god garbage website I was also able to learn a lot more about myself from all of the mutuals I’ve met here. How? Cause I was able to connect with many people and be myself without feeling the need to cover up the parts of me that I thought were ugly. Although, I know this is only the beginning of my time here, but it’s still a huge milestone for someone with low expectations to begin with.

So in all thank you to all of my lovely mutuals/friends. Whether we talk on a daily basis or not I love each and every one of you, and I hope for the mutuals that I’m silent with that one day we can start chatting and get to know each other better (although you might have to be the one to message first cause my ass is still anxious as F U C C)

Anyways yeah... I love all of you dearly

KNEE SLAP

Edit: Apparently some people didn’t get the notification for the tag? Fuck you Tumblr So I had to go over the names again just to be sure... Sorry if you got another notification or something! zzzz

Legend

♔ = Special babies → (Look for your special little message)

❥ = My baby mutuals → ilysm bls don’t think i don’t cause I actually do but I’m shit at showing my feelings sometimes and I’m bad at messaging. Don’t ever doubt that you bummies :((((((

☼ = Silent/New Mutuals → We don’t talk/interact that much but I still appreciate your existence and love you, thank you for being here. Maybe when I’m not a anxious HOE i’ll message you

Bold = Content Creator → YOU TALENTED LITTLE BEAN. GOD FUCKING GAVE YOU THE SKILLS OF A GODDESS/GOD AND YALL ARE BLESSED ASF

I love you all bls don’t think that I love you less because of where you are on this post asiojdoasijd that’s not my intentions and I don’t mean to hurt you :(((((

(There is no solid order with how people are being added, I’m just going through my Following & Followers list)

♔

@champagnehoseok @koalajimin @gukvenchy @agustdabbing @knjddaeng @tinymintyoon @94hixtape

❥

@gukyi @guksheart @introseesaw @kinktae @httpjeon @honeyyhobii @sapidsuga @cloutro @yeehawtaekook @minlucent @joonbuns @honeyyhobii @simplyjoon @equigay @seoksblackrose @kitsujoon @rohobi @namseokis @lovewyself @taewitched @etherealmins

☼

@utopiajeon @hobiwonka @starlightjoons @louvrescript @ggukhoneys @yourstrxxly @bymoonchild@blushoseoks@iliveforjungkookmemes @moonm0chi @jeonpetals

@champagnehoseok: You little donk. I have a love/hate relationship with you, you wanna know why? caUSE ALL YOU DO IS ATTACK ME. I’m trying to live life here and you’ll send me a gif and then I’m (hot and) bothered. Though tbh without you I’ve wouldn’t of been able to leave my shell of shyness. You and your “DEARLLLYYYYYY” in group voice chats and scaring my ass to death smh. Despite being an extreme introvert I do enjoy talking/playing league with you (even though all we do is scream) So don’t take my short response as a “I’m annoyed with you” cause that’s not the case, I’m just an EXTREME INTROVERT. In all thanks for being the donk to my dink, never stop walking, always keep going alright? (this is the softest message you’ll get from me so LOVE IT)

@koalajimin: Morgan bby :((( You are my Libra sister and we relate to each other so much it’s quite unreal. Thanks for letting me scream and rant to you about stuff, it means a lot cause I know I’m a lot to deal with iojasoidjposa. I love how sweet you are :((( You’re the type of friend to go through a huge crowd of people just to make sure someone you care about is okay which is so admirable and I hope you know we don’t deserve your sweetness :((( It’s all too precious. If you ever need my “wise” advice or need someone to rant to just hmu okay? ilysm uwu (also BLS DRINK RESPONSIBLY)

@gukvenchy: Yara you sweet angel :((( Idk if I told you this before but that one night I randomly pour out my love to you on your old account was the first time I’ve went off anon to talk to you and I’m so glad I did cause it made me feel less anxious about sending asks and messages to you. Actually tbh you’ve helped me out a lot when it comes to gaining confidence in general. You probably never realize it but in little ways you do and I’m so glad we are mutuals because I would still be a shy shithead today :(( So thank you for being such a sweet pea and accept the fucking mess I am, ilysm you teasing Queen (I WILL NOT BIAS A BOY WHO POURS MILK INTO THE BOWL FIRST (I still love him but not enough to make him my bias)

@agustdabbing: Ahhh you probably didn’t expect a special message eh? Wrong. I love our late night convos about food, school and other things that I can’t remember cause they were so late at night aisjdijsad. You’ve found me in the rec blog side bar and it honestly shocked me that you wanted to follow or even message me. Like seriously??? I still don’t get why you want to asidjpais but in all I’m happy you got the courage to message me and grateful that you enjoy my random burst of convo starters. If you ever need anything hmu okay? Don’t be afraid to. I will always be here for late night convos about avocados, pastas, stupid things CUBE did and etc. Bless ya soul sweet child uwu

@knjddaeng: BABYYYYCHRSISSAIOJT My sweet tarot reading buddy. I love your curly hair adorable ass. Thanks for being honest, sweet, understanding and caring when I come to you for advice. You know how reserved I am, but despite that I always feel so safe when talking to you about my problems cause you understand why I think what I think and do what I do. In all I’m so grateful that you’re understanding of my messy brain and love me for me. Thanks for all the things you’ve done and I wish well for you :(( Know that if you are ever sad I will fucking send a spirit to comfort you asoidjaoid I WILL FIND A WAY DON’T YOU JOHNNY FUCKING TEST ME

@tinymintyoon: Ah Tiny, you sweet sweet child uwu I don’t know why but I just always have this like “You’re my little sister” vibe with you even though we aren’t that far in ages. You’re such a smart, beautiful and hard working girl and I have so much respect for that. You do things with consideration of others and it’s such a rare sight to see nowadays so please don’t ever forget that. I know at times you will feel down and have the itching feeling to slap yourself for not being good enough but trust me hunny, you’re doing great. Don’t beat yourself up too much okay? ilysm uwu please sleep appropriately so you don’t tire yourself out and hurt yourself :((( also THANK YOU FOR BETA READING SOME OF MY TRASH WORKS ASJDIKJ YOU ARE THE BEST AND I APPRECIATE THE EFFORT YOU PUT INTO THEM

@94hixtape: Lu, you are such a sweetie and I know we recently started talking but I can’t just leave you out on this. When you messaged me for the first time saying you’ve been meaning to message for a while made me so soft like???? You wanted to message ME? And see if I WAS okay??? You are a sweet angel and it still makes me flop onto my bed all soft. Despite your shy character you still would do so much for your friends and :((( ugh that makes me soft. Please don’t be afraid to message me if you’re sad or in need to rant, your presence is god’s gift in this world and you should be happy : ‘)))) ILYSM

I’m sorry that all of these messages are GROSS jsandoaijsdo

#Mutuals #Birthday Mutual Post #Appreciation #post #Birthday #I LOVE ALL OF YOU FREAKING CUTE NERDS :((((#this is queued cause highkey gonna be out #celebrating my b day #pasokjdpoaksdpo fuck i can't believe i'm doing this

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beheadingofmakai · 6 years

Text

“Baller”

Lance “The Monster God” @tainbocuailnge hit me with:

for writing prompts, how about someone drunk bidding on a sword (or other weapon you're the one who knows shit about weapons) on ebay only to find out when it arrives that it is a magic and/or possessed sword that /desperately/ wants to belong to some mythical ancient hero despite it being the good old year of 2018 and if it has to whip its new owner into shape then so be it

So sit back, grab your pop corn, and let Uncle Drimo Beheading tell you the story of an unemployed man who drank a little bit too much and got in a scuffle with a mysterious man with an anime avatar, an event that changed his life.

———

“...And who the shit has an anime avatar on ePay?! You mean this freaking nerd outbid me? Get the hell out, let’s see what other deals he’s in, you’ve crossed the wrong unemployed drunk, shithead.”

The dark room’s sole source of light was the monitor’s light blue hue, reflected on a man’s glasses that sat in front of two tired, drunken, furious eyes.

2:38 AM, three bottles of schrobbeler, twelve cans of stout and a small army of discarded potato chip bags. It was a particularly bitter Friday, now Saturday, for Jan, and what better remedy for the sorrows of modern life than senseless spending? Like syrup finding is way down one’s throat, vigilantly hunting for a cold, the act of burning money seems oddly cathartic. It’s very much just pretending one’s current problems aren’t there by simply creating more trouble for oneself in the future. And sometimes, this future trouble is worth it if one’s splurging involves spiting someone with an anime avatar and a lot of booze. Not really, but it sure as hell seems so during the heat of a bid war.

“You think you’re hot shit, xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx? That I’m gonna let you flaunt your weight around just because you got some disposable income? I’m gonna shit on your sofa!”

Bills are a pain in the ass, aren’t they? Water, light, real estate, food expenses, cab fare... We’re lucky these brutes haven’t found a way to pipe oxygen and charge us for it yet, but it is what it is. And for bills, you need a job, for you kill those with your paycheck. Things were rocky, but stable enough the last few months for Jan Wildemors, but just yesterday, Fate decided to be that unlikable bitch we all hate and that hates us back, and he was laid off. No feedback or reason given, either. He was handed his stuff in a box that was missing a flap, and told to go, thank you for your hard work the last eight months, which is a very polite and corporate way of saying “go choke on a cat-o-nine-tails composed entirely of dildos”.

“Hah! Really regret on screwing me over with that keyboard now, don’t you, jackass?” Jan adjusted his glasses as he proudly asserted his dominance, victory his, not really sure what he just bought, but satisfied with the knowledge that he did. Hooray, unhealthy coping mechanisms! With his objective complete and his body at its limit, Jan went down like a glorious baboon that just missed a branch during its jump, his face smacking his desk as he lost consciousness like an ape plummets down a tree: With a lot of drool and a dull thud.

———

“Now, hold on just a second, let me check one more time with my bank, and--”

“Hey, you bought it, I just deliver it, now please just sign up already, and with all due disrespect, wear some pants next time. The day’s not even begun, and your hairy legs already ruined it. And yesterday too, retroactively.”

As the confused, unemployed man signed the paper on the clipboard (with a lent pen, of course), he was left one on one with the fruit of his idiocy: An ornate box, long and purple, the most expensive thing in the small apartment by far without even accounting for whatever it contained. “Oh man, oh man, I really messed up last night...”. Well! Whatever! It’s here already, so might as well open it! The best part of messing up is when you finally realize there’s no use in crying over spilled! Hooray, unhealthy coping mechanisms!

Inside the long and purple box was nothing other than a longsword, ornate and majestic. It was at this point that our dearest Jan propped a chair close to the window and prepared himself to just fucking throw himself out of it headfirst into the speeding traffic from the fourth floor.

“Welp, that’s that. I went and bought a sword. A sword. I can’t buy anything fancier than instant ramen or soggy lettuce leaves, not even the whole thing, I just got laid off from my job, and the first thing my drunk ass does is buy a sword. No wonder I had no cash when I checked in the morning. Well, alright, I’d like to thank my father for my ethics, my mother for my sense of humor, and neither of them for my savvy with finances, now let’s check out heaven, alley oop!”

“A moment, if you would.”

“Oh, sweet, the delirium is starting to kick in, I can hear voices! I love nervous breakdowns!”

“Face me when I speak to you, boy.”

Jan froze in place. This was the first time the panic voices ever were so untoward. He considered, for just a second, that maybe he truly wasn’t alone in this room, that perhaps, against all odds, that which was inside the box was the one...

“...Yes, it is I that speaks to you, now turn around and face me already, you unruly child.”

In the words of Oscar Wilde himself: “Holy shite”.

“Hold on, what, no one told me swords could speak.”

“And they normally don’t, but I am not a normal sword.”

On top of the chair, wearing only a sleeveless white t-shirt and coffee stained boxers, Jan Wildemors faced the sword in the purple box, a faint silver aura blanketing it, the two staring at each other while Jan comprehended, little by little, that his mundane life was about to end. The faint glow of the morning sun that filtered in through the closed blinds accentuated this scene, the young man’s face stained with lines of bewilderment and amazement.

He then faced the window and tried to throw himself out again.

“H-hey, stop trying to kill yourself for a second and hear me out, will you not!? What kind of reaction is this to the honor of being addressed to by Moonflare itself!”

“Yeah, no thanks! I’m not only unemployed and in debt, now I am being plunged into some magic nonsense that I want no part of! This truly is the end for me!”

“Wait, you’ve no job and you owe money? That’s less than ideal, young one.”

“And now a sword is criticizing my life choices! This sucks!”

“Just hear me out, damn it!”

“Aaaaaa!”

“Baller”

———

“Coffee or juice?”

“I’m a sword.”

“Yeah.”

The young man sat in front of the sword, sipping his coffee, finally wearing pants, the weapon unmoved from the purple box, its faint silver flow still emanating like a candle at the end of a long, dark hallway. A resigned sigh is all the young man could muster, lifting his arms in very real surrender.

“Alright, let’s do this. What’s up?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s up’? First your purchase me and now you wonder what the dickens I am? Where is it that I came from? How could you possibly acquire a Resonant Arm without knowing? Is this some manner of jest?”

“Yeah, look, I’m not going to lie to you, Monsieur Sword, I--”

“Moonflare.”

“Hm?”

“I’m no Monsieur, nor am I a Madame, I am a sword with a name, and that name is Moonflare. Be sure to use it.”

“Yeah, sure. Anyways, so yesterday, I was laid off from my job, so I got real damn drunk, and decided, yeah, Imma buy a gaming keyboard! It’s a sound investment! It’ll improve my morale and help out with my job hunting!”

“Uh huh...”

Jan stretched and sipped from his coffee, making keyboard motions with his free hand. “No, for real, reward yourself, and then be responsible without a regret! It works! Sometimes! Unfortunately, the model I wanted was the last one in stock in ePay, this bidding website for online transactions--”

“You bought me online!?” Moonflare cut in.

“What, that weird?”

“I’m a Resonant Arm! It’s akin to saying someone bought a priceless relic on the internet!”

“Well, about that...” Jan produced his smartphone, tapped it a couple of times, and pointed the screen to the hilt, where he assumed the sword’s “eyes” were. Jan is no sword biologist, so we hope you’ll excuse his beginner’s mistake. “...People kinda buy really expensive things like the Mona Liz--”

“Someone bought the Mona Lizard!?”

“On the internet.”

“Curses!”

“Yeah, so I guess you ended up being sold off online, and whether your previous owner knew about you being a Restaurant Arm or not is anyone’s guess, but the fact is, the keyboard I wanted was ripped from my bloody, splintered fingers by some asshole with an anime avatar that outbid me at the last second. So I got mad and went to outbuy him in something else he was putting money in for.”

“...What for?”

“A foolish and short-lived sense of satisfaction and spite.”

“Marvelous, and that’s how you came to own me.”

“That’s the whole shebang, ya.”

If the sword had eyes, their revolutions per second would create a localized cyclone. It was clear this was a six piece McNobody who just obtained them as a consequence of bad impulse control and good taste in alcohol.

“...Well then,” Moonflare finally let out, as if forcing words out of its sword throat. “You know, at least you’re honest. Well, this might just be what you need.”

Jan’s eyebrow raised inquisitively. “...What do you mean?”

“This could be destiny at play, young man. No job, crippling debt, the end of the road, that’s what life is for you right now. And at the moment of most need, when you see the horizon as a guillotine encroaching on your throat with each passing day, cooped up in this cell that no doubt will be subjected to embargo, you come across me, Moonflare the Pilgrimbreaker, Resonant Arm... No doubt you see where this is going, right?”

“What are you suggesting...?” Jan inquired, his interest thoroughly piqued.

“You can be a Hero. I can make you a Hero. One worthy of wielding the real me. Look around you, you know you want this. Say, what’s that poster over there, above the couch?”

Jan looked to where the sword had verbally pointed and found his old Funny Fantasy VII poster, with its protagonist boldly wielding his weapon in an action pose.

“It’s my Funny Fantasy VII Collector’s Edition poster. It’s my favorite game ever.”

“And who is that brazen, courageous man showcased oh so prominently in the forefront?”

“That’s Clown Strife! A failed JESTER who didn’t have it in him to make it big in the ranks of the CIR.cus organization! After taking to wandering as a mercenary, his freelancing eventually landed him smack in the middle of a huge, world-class incident!”

“Poetic, is it not? You’ve just been released from your own job, you’re swamped in debt, and nothing seems to be going right... And that’s when we cross roads. It’s not only that you don’t really have a choice, this is the right choice. We’ll make it big.”

For the first time in years, Jan’s eyes shone with a fire they had long forgotten. Hopping from job after job, doing shit he didn’t wanna do, forcing smiles for nasty bosses who didn’t give a damn about him... It could all be over. It could all remain in the past, were he to become a Hero.

“I’ll do it.” he said, resolution dripping from his voice and fire emanating from his eyes like a faulty smelter. “Let’s do this!”

———

“Let’s not do this!”

“Quit whining and give me ten more laps!”

“Stop giving me more laps!”

“Then stop whining, cur!”

It’s been a week of this tragedy. Day after day, night after night, the sword and man duo engaged in this pitiful play. Moonflare, the sharpest drill sergeant in town, attacked the would-be Hero with arduous routine after routine, if one could call “20 hours straight of morbidly harsh training” a routine, by any stretch. When he was finally done doing suspended midair push-ups with a tire, Moonflare gave the signal (which is a disappointed sigh, by the way), and Jan finally came down.

“You’ve got the physical condition, Jan, you are fit and can move well, but you don’t take pressure well.” the sword chided. “How are we going to achieve fame like this?”

“...”

This silent reply didn’t go unnoticed.

“Is there something that’s bothering you, young one?”

“Yes, actually. You keep mentioning ‘fame’. We need to be the best to cause an impression this, we need to be at our peak condition that, you seem really obsessed with fame. Isn’t a Hero’s role to save people in the first place?”

But now, the silence came from the sword.

“...Hey, I’ve put up with this for a week, you could at least tell me what a Restaurant Arm is already in addition to answering to what I just said. I’m breaking my back, almost literally, here.”

“You make a good point.” the sword replied with what almost was a sigh. “A Resonant Arm, and please get ‘Resonant’ right already, is a weapon crafted with a fragment of a powerful weapon of legend. In this body, I am powerful sword with capabilities far beyond regular weapons, yet, I’m still a shade of my true potential. It’s because only a shard of my original body is in this shell.”

“Oh! So wait, you’re not just some delirium or haunted sword with delusions of grandeur?”

“I ought to pierce a lung of yours for that statement, hmph! Indeed, I am not a figment of your desperate psyche, I am indeed THE Moonflare, the Pilgrimbreaker, the Discipliner, the...”

Jan scratched his head as he drank some water as Moonflare went on and on with his titles before he interjected. “I’ve never heard of you.”

That window shattering in the distance? That’s Moonflare’s confidence you just heard. “...Yeah, that’s the problem.”

“Hm?”

“...I am a legendary weapon, but I am unsung, because my previous master didn’t care for fame in the slightest.”

Jan simply looked at the sword, as if telling it to go on.

“...Centuries ago, I belonged to The Pilgrimbreaker, a very unknown Hero. There’s no records of her real name, for she refused to announce it, there’s no records of her face, for she always wore a helmet that shrouded it, and there’s no records of where she went to after the Mana Turbulence, for she disappeared without saying a word after all was said and done. Just a few souls in this world know about her, hence why I’m an unsung legendary weapon.”

“Huh... I was thinking she was small time, but the Mana Turbulence was a big deal way back in the day, wasn’t it? Was she weak compared to the other Heroes or something?”

“Nonsense!” Moonflare suddenly raised its voice in stark contrast to its usual calm bearing. “Pilgrimbreaker was the real deal! I never could see eye to eye with her, but I will never tolerate illspeak of her!”

“W-woah!”

“Her form was perfect, her mind impenetrable, her defense unbreakable and her aggression irresistible! She struck fear in whoever was in the wrong side of her blade! Do you know where she got the moniker of Pilgrimbreaker, boy!?”

“Moonflare, calm down, I didn’t mean to--”

“She singlehandedly infiltrated the dread cavern where the Pilgrims Of Brozarok held the Ritual Of Turbulence, which would’ve torn the world’s apart thrice had it been completed, and killed every last one of the wicked dastards! Her arm swished left and right, which each move an impact responding, each swipe a life taking, over and over, dodging curses and enduring maladies! She fought for an entire two days, killing every single Pilgrim in the cavern. By the time four hours had passed, I had gone dull from the sheer and excessive amount of cleaving, and yet, she relented not! With myself as a blunt hunk of moonsteel, she kept going, going, and going! What once were slashes now were blunt strikes, but her sheer strength would break them apart all the same! By the forty eighth hour, when she had broken every Pilgrim and stopped the Ritual, her own sword arm lay shattered and her muscles swollen. She saved the world! She saved us all...”

“...But she’s not famous, not unlike the other Heroes whose names are now in history books, huh?”

Today, Jan learned that swords could indeed cry. “Indeed... The other Heroes actually acknowledged and respected her. Some admired her! They worked together many times, and they were all equally instrumental in stopping the Turbulence. However, she always insisted in others not singing her praises. She foolishly refused to reveal face or name, and eventually, history forgot her.”

“...I guess that explains why you were sold as an antique at best online. No one knows the true of your previous Master, and thus, of your deeds.”

“...Yes. I suppose that makes sense.”

“So I guess your true body, that is, the true Moonflare is elsewhere, if only a fragment is built in you?” Jan inquired, going back to that topic not only because of his genuine curiosity, but also to change the topic, as it clearly was a sensitive topic for Moonflare.

“Yes and no. The ‘true’ Moonflare would imply I’m a fake one. I am indeed Moonflare, just, not in my true body. This blade was forged with a fragment found in the cavern where the Pilgrims met their end. As thus, I have consciousness in this ‘body’. Resonant Arms are called a such because they resonate with their true bodies, and can thus direct their owners to the real legendary weapons. Since it’s my body, I know where it is -- where I am.”

Jan’s eyes shot wide open and he choked on water. “Pwaah! H-hold on, if we can go get your real body, then why haven’t we done that?! We’ve just been wasting time for a week!”

“It’s not that easy. I need to make sure you are worthy. Not anyone can handle a legendary weapon, and you need to show me your physical and mental aptitude. That’s why, today, we’ll have a little test.”

“What? What’s this test? If you make me run more laps, I swear to Aunt Jemima I’ll--”

“We’ll go and do heroic deeds! The streets are dangerous at night, no? We’ll go and stop a crime! Then, I shall judge you!”

“Oh!”

It was finally time. After a whole week of this tiresome nonsense, of pushing his body to the utter limit, of ragging his muscles to shreds, it was finally time to engage in the whole Heroing dealio! And Jan, our strapping would-be Hero, simply couldn’t wait.

———

The streets of the city aren’t exactly what you’d call safe. In fact, they are not what you’d call “oh they are alright as long as you stay in the main streets and by the light”, either. Every back alley you see is a brave new world of armed robbery and assault, with your neck and wallet ripe for the taking. The ideal place to truly thrive as the scum of society and get your doctorate in banditry. Why, just now, a helpless office worker, on her way back from overtime, has found herself tangled in an interesting business proposition between herself and a switchblade pressed against her neck. The switchblade’s companion, a rather forceful fellow with an iron grip and a neck covered in veins, currently yells at her politely, suggesting she voluntarily makes a generous donation to his wallet. How beautiful they are, the streets of this city, rife with opportunity and bankrupted in morals and safety.

Little did the streets know that a brand new market element was about to change their business dynamic.

“Hold it right there, fiend!”

The sudden voice blindsided the mugger not from behind, but from above. As his neck craned to see just who in the world would dare interrupt such an important business meeting, he soon found his answer: It was the man wielding a longsword that currently plummeted towards him.

“The fu--!” The mugger moved out of the way in time to avoid feasting on boots, finally finding himself face to face with the vigilante. The lady that was being mugged couldn’t help but stare in disbelief at the cloaked figure of justice, its silver blade glimmering under the moonlight with unnatural fervor. The billowing cape and the small domino mask made it abundantly clear that this was no mere civilian, this was a vigilante who meant business.

“R-repent now, wrongdoer! Surrender yourself peacefully, and you may yet know mercy!”

“Oi! What’s wrong! Don’t stutter your lines!” Moonflare whispered.

“H-how do you expect me not to!? These lines are so cheesy and stupid...! J-just let me handle the script, yeah?”

“Absolutely not! Who is the seasoned legendary weapon here? If I may be so bold, I believe I know more about this whole Hero business than you do! Just follow my lead and we’ll rake in the fame I de-- we deserve! Now shush!”

With a sigh, Jan simply surrendered and went along with it, dramatically pointing the sword towards his foe. “Hark! Release the dame or taste the righteous fury of the Pilgrimbreaker, miscreant! Know that I shan’t stay my hand a second longer!”

“...pfff...”

A small chuckle finally interrupted the monologue of the would-be Hero. It wasn’t the mugger that let it out, however, it was the victim.

“pppfff... I-I’m sorry, but wow, you are extremely lame. A domino mask? Cape? Really? What C-list telenovela did you jump out from? Shouldn’t you be looking for your missing baby? Maybe slashing ‘Z’s on walls like a loser? Please do me a favor and let me get robbed, it’d be far more dignified than letting you save me, Costume Party.” the lady mercilessly commented, performing Herculean efforts to contain her laughter.

“Shit, I know, right? Who goes, ppfppfffffff, who goes all ‘reepehnt villuns!’ anymore? Did your mom slam dunk you when you were a child, guy? Cloak and mask over sweatpants and a sleeveless wife beater with coffee stains? Really?” the robber added, shaking his head.

“A full outfit is expen--”

“Then don’t wear any at all, idiot! You only look like an overgrown manchild going out trick or treating! You really looked at yourself in the mirror and thought, ‘yeah, this is cool, I look like justice itself, I’ll drown in pussy!’?” the supposed victim harshly mocked, her laughter now out of control.

“Pffff, yeah right, this guy couldn’t score in brothel. His birth certificate is an apology note from the condom factory. Imagine being this asshole’s mom!”

“Oh, fuck off! Someone carried this thing for nine months! Imagine looking at this dude’s FateBook and seeing him posting pics of his outfit, like, ‘Yeah! Ready to fight crime! #Herointhemaking’, and then thinking, yeah, I did this, I made this, I was irritable and in pain for 9 months so I could bring this specimen to the world. At that point, I rip my ovaries out with my own hands and play ping pong with them.” she mercilessly chided.

“Bwaaahahahaha! Hey, you are really funny, and pretty cute, now that I look at you.” observed the criminal, apparently taken with her, now that he could see her better, out of the darkest reaches of the back alley.

“You are not bad yourself... I like a man that can handle a knife. Say, are you free right now? I’d like to unwind after work. We had a meeting today and my bitch of a supervisor, who happens to be why I drink, was on one of those moods today.”

“I’m down for that. I know a really good place here, they have craft beer really cheap, since they make it themselves, and the steak is to die for. Let’s leave Captain Virgin behind and get started!”

The mugger and the victim looked at each others’ eyes with just an inkling of passion for a few seconds before walking away, arm in arm, leaving behind our would-be Hero, the night young and ripe for their taking. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship that would steer the young man towards rehabilitation and for him to abandon the ways of the petty street criminal, working long and hard for his doctorate in electrical engineering, a career he dropped out of, with the loving support of his girlfriend, whose own lifestyle greatly improved thanks to his good domestic skills and the encouraging fire of his pep talks. Together, they had three children (two of them twins) and lived a happy, humor filled life, growing old together, hand in hand.

Anyways, back to the present, where Jan’s self-esteem was shattered into so many pieces that you couldn’t even vacuum clean them.

“...What did just happen...?” Moonflare inquired, confused, no scratching his sword chin with the sword hand it didn’t have.

“C-crime successfully prevented! A-all part of the plan!”

“Are you crying?”

“Of joy!”

“Are you also trembling of joy?”

“Y-yup!”

“...In your parlance, this ‘sucked’, didn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“I really don’t know what to say, Jan. This is the first time I see an attempt at crimestopping end up in matchmaking. You might be cut out to be a Cupid more than a Hero, perhaps. Well, no matter, let’s try with the next--”

“Oh no no, look here, we’re not doing this again.” the would-be Hero vehemently declared, ripping his tiny domino mask off and throwing it in a nearby trash can. “No way. This sucks. Your way sucks. I’m absolutely not doing this your way. Look, we’re doing this my way, or it’s the highway for you.”

“Fool, I’ve got more experience, you must listen to me, and then we’ll be famous!” argued Moonflare, its silver glow intensifying as if to show irritation.

“You’ve no legs, so the highway means I’ll dunk you into the nearest river and call it a day. Now, you listen to me and you better listen well, Moonflare.” Jan’s voice finally hardened up, much like his grip on Moonflare’s hilt. “I’m neck-deep in debt, out of a job, stuck with a stupid sword that talks like a shitty Shakespearian secondary character, humiliated and ready to go and throw myself off that window, just like I should have. You either take me to your real body right now, or I’ll really make sure no one can find you. I’ll take a damn loan for a shovel and some scubba gear, dipshit. I’ll bury you at the bottom of a river or a lake, and no one will know.”

“Jan, please wait, you are clearly making a hasty decision here, your body and mind are not ready for the brunt of a legendary weapon, just follow my lead and--”

“And keep playing Cupid to victims and their would be assailants? Fuck off and fuck you. You’ve three seconds to start leading the way.”

Seeing as there was no convincing Jan, Moonflare finally complied, giving in to the demands of Captain Vir-- Jan.

———

Marble tiles, ivory pillars, and a massive sanctum lit only by mysterious floating gems that shone a dim blue. This was the Sanctum Of Moonflare, hidden deep within the underground, a place impossible to reach unless you know of it, as the path to it will capriciously twist and curve to kick you out if you don’t, leading you back to the entrance, no doubt all part of the arcane architecture that the gnomes who built this place are known for. Only Heroes, or those with the aptitude to become one, could reach this place.

“Well, it’s awfully convenient that this was located under the sewers of my city. What are the odds?”. Jan wore his trademark sleeveless white t-shirt and black sweatpants, without the silly cape and mask, of course. The majestic room clearly had gotten his attention, his eyes scanning the place thoroughly with child-like admiration, whistling at the intricate handiwork of the engravings in the ivory pillars that held the place together. “Sure looks like a place where you’d find a legend!”

“Odds had nothing to do with it.” curtly replied Moonflare. “We are no longer underneath your city. We are far, far away, in another country, actually.”

“Oh, quit it. We just went down a manhole, don’t try to embellish your shitty tale more than you need to.”

“I speak the truth, cur. This place is not subject to the physics and logic of the world. All Sanctums that hold a legendary weapon are hidden away in places that would be impossible to reach physically, and instead, one must know of the place and fulfill a certain number of rules in order to reach them. My Sanctum, as an unsung weapon, hasn’t difficult rules, as you can see.”

“I assume they are something like ‘knowing about the place’, ‘travelling underground while intending to reach it’, and ‘carrying a fragment of Moonflare’?”

The sword didn’t respond for a few seconds. “...That’s spot on, actually. Those are the three rules. How did you...?”

“Intuition. Places like this turn up in games and novels a lot. Perhaps they were inspired by the real tales of old Heroes in the first place, with no one knowing any better.”

“...The era of mass information is terrifying.” the sword lamented, still not used to the 21st century.

In the center of the massive Sanctum, a staircase led to an altar where a protrusion with a sword planted in it could be seen. As the duo approached the gorgeous marble staircase, the engravings of the ivory altar, which turned out to be runes, glowed with the same dim blue at the crystals that floated aimlessly, resonating with the fragment in the incomplete Moonflare, the structure making a noise that was simultaneously organic and mechanical.

“Well, it’s ready. Try and fail so we can get out of here.”

“...So, you are a sword in a stone that only the worthy can pull out, huh?”

“Good, seems you’re familiar with the concept. Saves me having to explain it to you. This is what I meant when I said you were not ready. Now, give it your futile go so we can go back and apply ourselves to accruing fame.”

As Jan’s hand approached the indigo hilt of the true Moonflare, just inches away before he could grip it, Jan and Moonflare were interrupted by a slow clap behind them.

“Bravo! You actually made it here. My compliments! Now, would you please turn around and face me, you thief? I’d so love to see your face.”

Surprised by the sudden personage, the duo turned around to see a man dressed in an exquisite purple suit, two long and curved blades hanging on his hips, one on each side. “What do you mean, ‘thief’? I ain’t taken a thing from you.”

“I disagree, you lout. That sword you insolently grip right now should have been mine to begin with.” he replied, his footsteps echoing in the ample hall as he approached Jan.

“Hold on... xX_KimikoFucker456_Xx!? Is that you!?”

“Kisser! xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx! Get it right!”

“So it is you, the weeb from ePay that outbid my keyboard! You asshole, I should’ve guessed only someone with an username like that would wear a tacky purple suit and carry two... Ppfff.... Two katanas! My goodness, you really are a disaster! Where’s your fedora? Shouldn’t you be at home complaining about the fairer sex?”

“These are tachi, you ignorant, insolent nobody! And the plural of ‘katana’ is ‘katana’, which you’d know if you knew anything about weaponry. You’ve got a lot of nerve to outbuy me for a Resonant Arm, but... I wager you had no clue it was one, am I wrong?”

“Oh, please, of course I kn--”

“He had no idea and everything you say is correct”

“Moonflare, shut up, the people with opposable thumbs are talking right now!”

“You’re telling me this is all because you were mad that I outbid you for a gaming keyboard? You went a got in a bidding war with me for a legendary weapon just because you couldn’t accept that someone took a blasted keyboard from you?”

“Ye.”

“Incredible.”

“Indeed, I said the same.”

xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx sighed and simply took a stance, his hand on the left tachi’s hilt. “...My name is Clement Marmaduke Solaris, and I challenge you to a duel for the Moonflare that you currently hold. In the impossible case that you defeat me, I shall gracefully relent and admit defeat, pursuing you nevermore.”

“Hey, quick question.” Jan shot at Clement as he readied his blade in a stance unlike anything Moonflare taught him during the hellish training week. “Does everyone involved with legendary weaponry and Heroes and all this jimjam talk like a loser nerd? Is it part of, like, a contract? Why do none of you speak like a fucking real person? Is it too hard to not be immediately unlikable as soon as you open your mouth?”

“...Do you accept my duel?”

“On one condition. If I win, you gotta give me the keyboard.”

“You’re still going on about that, Jan!?” the sword chastised, but Clement simply laughed.

“Very well. If I win, I get Moonflare, and if you win, you get the Palanquin Corsair K195 RGB Platinum Gaming Keyboard.”

With a nod, both men agreed to the terms of the duel, and not ten seconds passed before they were at it, the two clashing as the altar with the true Moonflare served as their judge. Eschewing all of the sword’s antiquated teachings, Jan’s fighting style was far more fluid and natural than the proper sword technique Moonflare would rather he used, involving tumbling on the ground and spinning, launching unpredictable slashes and thrusts from every direction and angle.

“Jan! What in the world is this!”

“Breakdancing! I do this a lot, hence why I was in shape before your training. Your formal style is too stiff and old, this suits me better!”

“We’ll never be famous with a silly style like this! Just use the proper style of Pilgrimbreaker, and--”

“Fame, fame, fame! It’s all you talk about! Put a sock on it, already! I don’t give a fuck!”

But just because he was doing much better didn’t mean he had the advantage. Clement’s technique was equally unorthodox, drawing his blade with lightning speed and re-sheathing it, shooting out attacks with immense force as he attacked and defended at the same time.

“Impressive, Jan. I didn’t think you’d last a second against my Iaijutsu.”

“Just like a weeb to use freakin’ Iai... But I hate to admit that you are really good at it.”

“Oh, you flatter me, but you’d seen nothing!”

Jan spun and flipped in the air to attack Clement with a smashing overhead, but the man in the suit, with practiced mastery and a cool head, blocked the attack using his tachi’s pommel, paralyzing Jan with the impact, and subsequently launching him across the room with a powerful sheath thrust to the gut, saliva and tears shooting from Jan’s face.

“Phwoo! Sh-shit... He’s really good...” Jan struggled to say as he cough and barely managed to get back on his wobbly feet, the air knocked out of him. “...He may be a loser, but he’s a strong one...!”

“Cease this child’s play and use the style I taught you already, Jan!”

“I’m afraid there’s no need to. I’m done playing.” Clement approached the duo, none the worse for wear, the pressure around him increasing tenfold compared to what it was before. He was clearly holding back, but playtime was over. “You are a disappointment, Jan. I held back to see if you truly had what it takes, but you don’t even clear the minimum requirement. That Moonflare and you are opposites, and thus, without ever agreeing on what your purpose should be, nay, in how you should even move, you’ll never unleash its true potential. Ready yourself.” Without letting go of the hilt on his left hip, Clement’s left hand now reached for the hilt on his right hip.

“...Wait, no way, are you really gonna--!”

“Hwaa!”

He was less a man and more a raging storm. With speed that defies comprehension, Clement’s attacks doubled in both velocity and quantity, employing iai strikes with both swords at the same time. If the flurry of one such blade was already difficult to keep up with, defending against this storm of steel was impossible. The sheer impact and velocity of the bladed tempest lifted Jan off the floor, silver and blood dancing around his helpless frame as his clothes were ragged to tatters, his mangled body landing square on the altar, next to Moonflare.

“H...Holy shit... I can’t fight that...”

The footsteps approached him. “Indeed, you can’t. Now, surrender the sword. You can’t keep going.”

There simply was no way for Jan to win. With a pained sigh and a bloody cough, he mustered the strength to extend Moonflare towards the Iai master. “Yeah, it makes sense for you to have it... You’ll make a better Hero than me in every way...”

“Hero...? What are you talking about?”

Jan twitched, confusion tinging his face. “Huh? Don’t you want Moonflare to become a Hero?” The statement was apparently a devastating joke, for Clement could barely contain his laughter.

“Of course not, silly. I just want Moonflare in my collection! I’m a collector of weapons who travels all across the world finding different antiques and relics, but alas, I’ve grown tired of simple mundane masterpieces. I’ve set my eyes, thus, on legendary weapons, and with Moonflare as my first, my collection will reach the next level.”

“Hark!” Moonflare interrupted, shining a furious silver. “I’m no ornament! I refuse to gather dust in your vault when there’s heroic deeds to be performed! You can simply commission a replica if you must! You have a fragment of me, as well, don’t you? You wouldn’t be able to come here otherwise.”

“Hah! Indeed, a fragment, albeit one too small to even house your consciousness. I’ve waited here for little over a week for you to show up. A weapon ought to obey, for without an owner, you are nothing. Simply sit tight in my basement as the crown jewel of my collection, O mighty Pilgrimbreaker, and cease your yapping?”

“...Don’t give me that bullshit.”

Blood oozing from his wounds, muscles tearing from the exertion and damage, Jan stood up, a new fire in his eyes. “You know, I was ok with losing to you. Moonflare’s a dick, but it’s a strong sword. If it was in the hands of a capable swordsman, no doubt it could mete out some ridiculous amounts of justice, enough to clean up the streets easily! I was ok with that Hero not being me! But you...”

“Jan...?” “Oh?”

Jan pointed at Clement. “You are no Hero! You’re just a selfish little cunt who wants to feel good by filling his basement with shiny things! I’ll never give Moonflare, the Pilgrimbreaker to you! Not such a storied blade with a bright future in front of it!”

“Hah!” Clement could only laugh. “And how, I wonder and ponder, do you expect to make good on that? You are no match for me. Will you seriously throw yourself to the grinder for these ideals? Heroes are a thing of the past, and should remain so! They have no place in the modern world!”

“Oh, fuck you. Moonflare! I finally understand Pilgrimbreaker.”

“What do you mean...?”

Jan simply took a deep breath and approached the sword stuck in the stone of the altar. “Pilgrimbreaker was a real Hero precisely because she didn’t give a damn about fame. You only held her back, but she still managed to save the world.”

“What!”

“You’re obsessed with fame. You just want the glory of other weapons and their Heroes, and I kinda do feel for you, but that’s not what Heroism is about. You know what my job was before I got fired? I was an insurance agent. I got fired because I kept giving people benefits. Insurance is supposed to be there for when tragedy strikes.”

“...” “Oh...?”

“When you have a car accident, when your parents die, when you get sick with a complex illness, insurance is supposed to cover for you. But my boss kept insisting that we find ways to screw our clients over, to bring up the small letter of a contract and fuck ‘em over! I ignored it, gave our clients our support, and that meant loses for the big wigs on top, loses they recouped by kicking me out. I thought I could make the world a better place, yet, it was another dumb pyramid scheme, the insurance game. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of all this shit!”

Jan grabbed the sword’s hilt. “Moonflare! Pilgrimbreaker was the same! Heroes are all about public image, but she kept fighting as silently and anonymously as she could! Fame didn’t cross her mind! She wanted to make a difference! I admire her, I didn’t know about her until this week, but I wholeheartedly admire her! You should be ashamed of disrespecting her style and respecting only her strength!”

“Jan, I...”

The silver glow of the blade turned gold, and strength seeped into Jan’s body. The golden glow of affinity, achieved only when user and weapon are one mind and one soul, shone brightly from both sword and man, Jan’s words striking chords Moonflare didn’t even know about.

“...Interesting. Still, you won’t be able to draw that sword. A little bit of determination isn’t enough to change the world, which is exactly the kind of power that Moonflare requires to be drawn.”

“Bite me, nerd. Moonflare! Your methods are old, but your power is real! What you need to become a Hero in the modern day is to be a baller!”

“A... A what?”

“Baller! One who can do, no, who does what needs to be done. One who can make a difference, and makes the difference! Not one with the potential, but one with the intent! If we are to change this cynic piece of shit world, you need more than tradition! You need innovation! And with this innovation, we’ll pull out your body!”

“Jan, that’s fine and all, but it’s not how it works! But...” The sword’s golden aura intensified. “Whatever! We’re doing this your way! Let’s do this!”

Jan gripped the true Moonflare with all of his might and pulled, pulled, and pulled. Even the massive power boost from synchronizing with Moonflare didn’t seem to be enough. “W-we can’t do it...! You don’t have the power to change the world just yet, it’s nothing one can achieve overnight! That’s why I didn’t want to bring you here!”

“I don’t have the power to change the world...”

The altar rumbled.

“I don’t have the wisdom, either... The tradition... The pedigree...”

Cracks began to form on the floor surrounding the altar.

“But I have the heart! And there’s no way I’m surrendering you to an egoist jackass like this! I don’t have the power to change the world, but I sure as hell have it to draw one stupid sword--!”

The floor quaked wildly.

“--And start with the small things, like the streets! I don’t have the power to change the world, but that won’t stop me from trying!”

With a sound as loud as an explosion, rocks flew everywhere and a wall of dust obscured Clement’s vision as Jan let out one final scream. When the dust finally settled some, Clement couldn’t believe his eyes. In front of him, Jan stood boldly, the True Moonflare resting atop his shoulder... Still embedded to the rock and the altar, which he simply carried as if it was nothing.

“Y-you what!? You just ripped the altar off the ground?!”

“I got no time for these dumbass traditions and tests of worthiness you losers like so much! This sword is rotting away down here when it could be saving lives and making the world a better place! If I have to take it with stone and altar and all, so be it! I like clubs better than swords, anyways!”

“This is unprecedented...! No one ever ripped the whole altar along with the sword! You technically didn’t draw me, but at the same time, you practically did! Is this the modernity you speak of?”

“Damn right! I’ll drag the entirety of the Sanctum if I need to. A little altar stuck to the sword is nothing! Now, Clement... Clench your teeth.”

“You dastard...! Hand over Moonflare!”

“Take it from me, bitch!”

Clement once again turned into a cyclone of steel, his infinite slashes approaching Jan faster than a ballistic satellite could catch, but Jan stood calm, took a deep breath in, and swung the altar-sword forward, like a baseball bat, with all of his might. The holy altar clashed with the furious steel, and the steel shattered into pieces. Behind the steel was the arm that held it, and the arm, too, was shattered into pieces, mere bone unable to withstand the impact of a ton of ivory and righteous Heroism. Behind the arm that held the steel was a body, and the body was, too, shattered into pieces, the single deft swing enough to incapacitate Clement easily, his mangled body rolling away from the sheer force of the impact, a few lucky bones in his body unbroken.

“W...Wha...? H-how...?”

“The thing is, Clement, you ain’t a baller. You are simply a selfish rich boy who looked at people’s hope and saw an ornament for his wall. You could never swing this blade meant to serve the people. You ain’t shit, Clement.”

———

“Hey, we’re on the newspaper again!”

“...Is it another collateral damage report?”

“...Y-yup...”

The sword sighed.

“We sure are stopping crime and accruing fame, just, not the kind of fame I wanted...”

“Hey! We’re saving people! What if a few cars or buildings get smashed in the process? I-It stimulates the economy!”

“Maybe if you were more careful when swinging me! I have a whole boulder-like altar stuck to my body!”

“Ok, ok, mom, chill. Let’s just go home now. We keep at it like this, and crime’s a-gone in a few weeks. No one wants to risk being clobbered by an altar, after all.”

The duo jumped from rooftop to rooftop, Jan lugging the massive altar casually atop of his shoulder still, less sword and more comically oversized hammer.

“You just wanna keep gaming with that new keyboard, don’t you? I swear... You should be training to be able to draw me properly!”

“You can’t rush Heroism, Moonflare! As long as we keep being ballers, we’ll get there eventually!”

“...Heh, you’re right, Jan. Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

What is a Hero? A beacon of hope for the people? Or someone who acts for their safety in the shadows? Both are valid definitions, and many more kinds of Heroes exist, too. There’s some that are Heroes due to their lineage, while others are self-made, defying expectation and rising to greatness, all that truly matters is that you seek greatness for yourself and others, regardless of how you go about it. Some prefer the bombastic splendor of the spotlight, while others feel comfy in the shadows, but as long as you are excellent to one another and keep going and going, no doubt you’ll become a Hero in your own way, be that sticking to old tradition or carving your own path.

For Jan and Moonflare, the path to being a Hero is to be Ballers.

“...But really, stop causing collateral damage, your debt is only getting worse, you idiot.”

“Oh, shut the hell up.”

...Even if it’s expensive sometimes.

End.

#code:prompt #format:one off #length:short #tainbocuailnge #you sent me a real homerun lance

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caltropspress · 3 years

Text

RAPS + CRAFTS #3: Alaska

1. Introduce yourself. Past projects? Current projects?

Hi my name is Tim. I am a rapper. You might know me as Alaska, but chances are you do not know me at all. I have been making rap music since the mid-1990s. I was part of a collective called Atoms Family and a group within Atoms named Hangar 18. In 2004 Hangar 18 was signed to the Definitive Jux label. We dropped two albums. One which was good and one which was meh. After the label and group fell apart I started a weird career as a solo rapper who teams up with different producers to form different groups (Crack Epidemic, Words Hurt). The most recent group is named Cargo Cults which is myself and Zilla Rocca. We dropped Nihilist Millennial approx. one year ago. I am currently working on a few projects including the follow up to Nihilist Millennial.

2. Where do you write? Do you have a routine time you write? Do you discipline yourself, or just let the words come when they will? Do you typically write on a daily basis?

I am a husband and a father. I have a full-time job and I am currently enrolled in a Master’s program at NYU. I write whenever I have a spare moment. I usually write in the morning, it is when my mind is most clear and I can give the job the most attention. I have found that I am also the most creative at this time. I am usually writing with a project in mind. As I mentioned earlier I tend to work on projects with one producer. Usually they will give me a gang of beats. I will sit with them and start to write to them. I usually write 4-8 bars every morning. Which means I am usually writing a song a week. Typically I have an idea of what I want to say. I find that the words are always pouring out, but I end up throwing a lot of them out. At this point in my career I know when something is right. It is only at that point that I move on to the next line.

3. What’s your medium—pen and paper, laptop, on your phone? Or do you compose a verse in your head and keep it there until it’s time to record?

I write on my phone. Sometimes I will write in my head but it always ends up on the phone because I am old and my memory is shot.

4. Do you write in bars, or is it more disorganized than that?

I usually write in bars. Sometimes when I am just listening to music, cooking or doing something else a line will pop into my head and I will jot it down in my phone as something to use later. Most times those ideas get tossed.

5. How long into writing a verse or a song do you know it’s not working out the way you had in mind? Do you trash the material forever, or do you keep the discarded material to be reworked later?

It depends. I have scrapped entire albums before because they did not work. Usually it is anywhere from a half a verse to a half of a song. I usually take that material and put it into a running file of ideas to potentially reuse. However, if I do not reuse the idea by the time the album is done I throw them out. I have found that sometimes you have to just let it go. Once everything is precious you can get stuck.

6. Have you engaged with any other type of writing, whether presently or in the past? Fiction? Poetry? Playwriting? If so, how has that mode influenced your songwriting?

I used to write for a few music websites including one that I founded called SYFFAL (shut your fucking face and listen). I have also attempted to start a book on a few occasions detailing my career as a failed musician. I do not know if this helped my writing, but I find that the more I write the more ideas I have.

7. How much editing do you do after initially writing a verse/song? Do you labor over verses, working on them over a long period of time, or do you start and finish a piece in a quick burst?

I am editing throughout the entire process. By the time I get to the end of a song I usually have anywhere from 16 to 40 bars of material that did not make the song. This material ends up in the list I mentioned earlier. I tend to take whatever time is needed. Sometimes songs come together in a few hours, sometimes it takes a month to get through a verse. I view writing a song to be like working on a puzzle. You can force the wrong piece into a spot, but in the end the puzzle is not going to work. You just have to wait until you find the right piece. You know it when you find it. It clicks right in.

8. Do you write to a beat, or do you adjust and tweak lyrics to fit a beat?

When I am working on a project I write to beats. I want to make sure that the words and the flow match the soundscape. When I come up with random lines more often than not they are not written to a beat. If I end up incorporating it into a song I usually have to make edits so that it lands in the pocket.

9. What dictates the direction of your lyrics? Are you led by an idea or topic you have in mind beforehand? Is it stream-of-consciousness? Is what you come up with determined by the constraint of the rhymes?

I usually have ideas of what I want to discuss going into a project. Once the project starts I usually let the beat pick what the topic is going to be. A lot of what I am writing is just me trying to figure out the world around me or a reflection of the inputs. For example, with the Rammellzee song. There was an exhibit of his work at Red Bull Music like two summers ago, I used to go to it all the time on my lunch break. So spending all of that time around his work, and watching the videos of him discussing his philosophy about art is what inspired that song. I added a line at the end about being someone who dons the mask, meaning the mask of Rammellzee. I thought of this idea about doing art for the sake of purity of one’s soul, which is what I always felt Ram was doing and it is what I wanted to do. I would never put myself on the same level as a god like Ram, but at the same time I was writing this song, I was watching all of these Star Wars YouTube channels and there was an episode about this Boba Fett story line. The story followed his armor as it was sold from one person to the next. I liked that idea and how it connected with Rammellzee’s obsession with armor and wanted to incorporate it into the song.

10. Do you like to experiment with different forms and rhyme schemes, or do you keep your bars free and flexible?

I do enjoy it but I am not really concerned with it. I used to be obsessed with it, but I realized that was just to cover up the fact that I didn’t have much to say. I started looking at artists like Andre 3000, who can do all of the technical stuff better than everyone else, but he no longer needs to. He is more concerned with what he is saying and the ideas. He still drops some flex in here and there to remind you what he can do, but ultimately he is serving the song and the vision. That is how I approach it now as well. I am more interested in making a good song than I am in showing people how clever I am.

11. What’s a verse you’re particularly proud of, one where you met the vision for what you desire to do with your lyrics?

I really like “All Power to All People” from the Cargo Cults album. At the time when I wrote it there was so much chaos, it was shortly after Trump won, so the trolls and racist assholes were on full display and the resistance grift was at full force. There was a lot of blaming social media, free speech, and shutting down ideas. A lot of hand wringing about how it was the worst time in American history. I wanted to address those ideas head on because they are so wrong. I wanted to show how important maintaining these values is. I wanted to show all of the ways that the things that we were suddenly vilifying because they brought us temporary discomfort were essential to freedom and giving voice to the voiceless. I also wanted to examine how silencing ideas gives them more power. Moralists never seem to learn this. Once you let an asshole like Milo or Richard Spencer say what moronic bullshit they have to say they are exposed for the shithead idiots that they are. They become powerless. When you give them the power of your fear they win. They want the spectacle because the spectacle is all they have to offer. You do not defeat bad ideas by shutting them out, you defeat them by exposing them as bad ideas.

12. Can you pick a favorite bar of yours and describe the genesis of it?

There is a bar on the title track from the Words Hurt album Soul Music for the Soulless where I say “Watching stranger things and hanging upside down like Poppa Large”. It is a little line in a bigger song but it has been my favorite line for quite some time. I don’t really remember the origin of it, other than it has a few layers to it. Stranger Things has the mirror world called “the upside down” and in the video for the Ultramagnetic MCs song “Poppa Large,” Kool Keith spends a portion of the video hanging from his feet upside down. I don’t know why but it is still my favorite bar ever.

13. Do you feel strongly one way or another about punch-ins? Will you whittle a bar down in order to account for breath control, or are you comfortable punching-in so you don’t have to sacrifice any words?

I punch in all the time. I have zero issue with it as long as you can perform it when you get on stage and the punch is not obvious. We are trying to make the best song we can. If that means a punch, so be it.

14. What non-hiphop material do you turn to for inspiration? What non-music has influenced your work recently?

I don’t spend much time with hip hop in general these days. I actively avoid it because I am writing so much. I find that when I am writing and listening I subconsciously bite what I am listening to. I tend to mostly listen to Jazz and podcasts. When I am seeking inspiration I will usually read.

15. Writers are often saddled with self-doubt. Do you struggle to like your own shit, or does it all sound dope to you?

I used to when I was trying to impress others. After the second Hangar 18 album which was meh, I made a promise to myself to a. Only make music for myself, I don’t care if anyone else likes it as long as I do, and b. To only make music if I have something I want to say or if it is fun. From that point on I have had zero self-doubt because I was making exactly what I wanted to make and doing exactly what I wanted to do. There is a passage in this Carlos Castaneda book talking about self-doubt and how it is a self created and a construct of our ego. I think when you go into something without ego, even if it fails to achieve what you hoped, you can accept it for what it is and that allows you to be present and enjoy what you are doing.

16. Who’s a rapper you listen to with such a distinguishable style that you need to resist the urge to imitate them?

Shit, so many. Woods, Castro, Zilla, Alex Ludavico, Theravada, Blueprint, Moses Rockwell, it goes on and on. It is why I don’t listen to rap that much anymore. I mean I check it when it drops but I no longer obsess over it because too often it leaks into whatever I am working on.

17. Do you have an agenda as an artist? Are there overarching concerns you want to communicate to the listener?

Outside of making myself happy there is no agenda or concern.

RAPS + CRAFTS is a series of questions posed to rappers about their craft and process. It is designed to give respect and credit to their engagement with the art of songwriting. The format is inspired, in part, by Rob McLennan’s 12 or 20 interview series.

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jbankai89 · 7 years

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Never Let Me Go [19/37]

A/N: The Thai word/phrase is supposed to say ‘amazing' but it may be slightly off, because I do not speak Thai (alas, only English and French XD) and had to trust a translation website. If anyone notices a mistake there, please let me know so I can fix it! :) Next update will be December 5th.

Chapter Eighteen – Chance Meeting

Yuri could not tell who was squeezing the other's hand more firmly—himself, or Minami. The younger omega's complexion had paled at the sound of the knock upon the door, and he shifted closer to Yuri immediately. For once, he did not feel annoyed by Minami's tendency towards cuddling—he welcomed the closeness, and felt deeply comforted by it.

Voices sounded from the hall, three familiar ones intermingled with one new one, which Yuri presumed to be this new alpha, Phichit.

“Têe nâa má-hàt-sà-jan jai, this is so nice, Mr Otabek!” chirped the unfamiliar voice, and Yuri felt Minami tense next to him.

“Please, just Otabek,” Otabek replied politely, and the stranger began to speak in Japanese, to which they heard Yuuri respond, and Minami giggled.

“What are they saying?” Yuri whispered, and Minami smiled again, his entire form relaxing a little as Yuuri and the stranger continued to speak.

“They're poking fun at Otabek and Viktor,” Minami murmured softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “They say they look as relaxed as a street food vendors with no rice.”

Yuri chuckled a little, and he, too, felt himself begin to relax as the group migrated into the parlour where they still sat. Otabek and Viktor did indeed look very tense, but in contrast, Yuuri looked happier than Yuri could recall ever seeing him before.

Of course, some of it could have been the fact that Yuuri was beginning to approach his due date, and at nearly twenty-five weeks, he had gained the distinctive pregnancy waddle, but he was so wrapped up in talking with his friend and holding onto Viktor that he hardly seemed to notice. They jumped back and forth between Thai and Japanese so quickly that even if Yuri did speak either of those languages he doubt he would have been able to follow.

“Oh, Yuuri, you're getting so big,” the stranger said, switching to Russian, ensuring that everyone present could understand him. “It's like you swallowed a planet!”

“Three planets,” Yuuri replied with a small groan as Viktor helped him to sit down. He turned his gaze to his alpha and offered one of his hands a small squeeze in thanks. “I can't wait to meet them though. I mean, I'm nervous, but I'm starting to get excited, too.”

“You've always been good at caring for people,” the stranger said with a warm, cheery smile. “I know you'll be an amazing mom.”

Yuuri's face flushed pink, and he smiled bashfully down at his lap. The alpha turned to Yuri and Minami, his warm smile never wavering as he gazed at them.

“And you two must be Yuuri's friends!” he said cheerfully, “I'm Phichit Chulanont. I'm an alpha, but I promise, I don't mean to be.”

Yuri and Minami exchanged a bewildered look as Phichit laughed, but upon seeing their expressions, he elaborated.

“In Thailand, alphas get treated like criminals a lot,” he explained. “There was such an outcry from the omegas for something to be done about them being assaulted, and the government went overboard. You even look at an omega in a funny way, and they will arrest you. When I found out I was alpha, I was so upset, because that meant that me and Yuuri couldn't stay in touch. But at the same time, I understand it, I'd rather live in a place with tough laws where everyone feels safe instead of a place that hurts a third of its people, you know?”

“The laws are a bit ironic,” Yuuri added with a small smile, “considering your country's reputation in the West.”

“I don't make the rules!” Phichit cried out, “but I'm just glad I'm here now...well, sort of. It's so cold here, Yuuri, I have no idea how you stand it!” he visibly shivered, and Yuuri laughed. “You should all come visit me in Bangkok, I'll show you around and get you all the best street food until you feel like you'll burst. And the best part? No snow.”

Yuuri and Phichit continued to jabber back and forth excitedly, most of the conversation consisting of Phichit telling Yuuri where he'd take him and Viktor if they came to see him. When one of the house servants brought out a tray of appetizers, Phichit seemed to remember that Yuri and Minami were there, and he smiled kindly at them. Neither omega missed how Phichit's eyes seemed to fix on Minami, and immediately the omega shifted closer to Yuri. Phichit's smile fell.

“Oh, hey, are you all right?” he asked, and looked back to Yuuri, before returning his gaze to Minami. “Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!” he said all this very fast, and he looked genuinely distressed by Minami's uneasiness. “Your name's Minami, right? Please, tell me what I did wrong so I won't do it again. If I made you uncomfortable, I really didn't mean to.”

“I'm sorry,” Minami said shyly, now pressed so hard into Yuri's side that he half-expected them to fuse together at that point. “Um...bad experience with an alpha.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” Phichit said, and it sounded like he meant it too. “I can't even imagine doing bad stuff to you, you're just so adorable, if you'd let me, I'd wrap you in a blanket and keep you safe always.” Phichit stopped suddenly, and his cheeks tinged red. Yuri had a feeling he hadn't meant to say all that.

Minami's face coloured similarly to Phichit's, and seemed incapable of meeting his eye as he turned to Otabek, who was standing nearby, the Omega's eyes wide with confusion and fright.

“Um, Otabek?” Minami asked in a small voice, “can I have an apple?”

Otabek inclined his head once in understanding, and held out an arm to Minami. Yuri did his best to stomp down on his jealousy as Minami jumped up and rushed over to him as Otabek said, “come on, I'll get you one...” and led the omega from the room, a protective arm coiled around his shoulders.

“I came on too strong, didn't I?” Phichit asked sadly as he watched Minami go, and his cheery smile dimmed to a sad frown.

“Minami's had a rough time of it,” Yuuri said with a small frown of his own, “it wasn't your fault. He probably just jumped to the conclusion that you want him, and the belief that you'd be just like his former alpha...he wasn't nice.”

“In normal human language, Yuuri means that his ex-alpha was an abusive shithead,” Yuri filled in sourly. “He's really nervous around alphas he doesn't know because of that, and so if you're really interested and you really care about him, you should probably back off for a while.”

“I'm sorry,” Phichit said again. “I didn't mean to scare him.”

“I better go see if he's all right,” Yuri replied with a small sigh, and pushed himself to his feet. Phichit looked even more distraught at this statement, and Yuri shook his head a little. What a weird alpha.

Yuri padded out of the parlour, and almost immediately crashed into Otabek. His breath caught, and he felt a flush begin to creep up his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, “I just...Minami...”

“He's all right, just a little shaken,” Otabek said, and looked as awkward as Yuri felt. It appeared to be overlaid with his usual attempt at nonchalance, though for once Otabek did not mask his feeling as well as he usually did. “He's up in his room if you want to see him.”

“Erm, thanks,” Yuri replied uneasily, and bit his lip. He felt a familiar tingle rush through him, the same one he'd felt before when he'd kissed Otabek of his own volition.

Yuri leant forward a little, and tensed when he realized what he was about to do, and rushed off before he could give in to temptation.

I wonder what it's like to not be surrounded by weird mixed signals constantly... Yuri thought sourly as he walked, and by the time he'd made it up to Minami's room, he'd burnt off most of his frustration, and thus was unlikely to make Minami more uneasy with a bad mood.

The door was ajar, and Yuri peered in to see Minami sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand curled around a narrow mug of green tea. His eyes were red and puffy as though he'd been crying, but at the moment, he seemed to be relatively dry-eyed. Yuri knocked once, and the younger omega's gaze snapped up, but he relaxed when he saw who it was. He nodded once, indicating that Yuri could come in.

“I just wanted to see how you were,” Yuri explained as he stepped inside and sat down next to Minami. “Phichit said he was sorry about a hundred times after Otabek escorted you out, and it looked like he meant it.” He paused, shifting uncomfortably when Minami shuffled a little closer to him, and while doing his best to mask his own discomfort, he wrapped a lazy arm around Minami and offered him a squeeze. Immediately, the distressed omega seemed to relax. “You seem totally comfortable around Otabek, why is what Phichit said so scary to you?”

“I don't know him,” Minami explained, “he's a stranger, and I'd known him for barely ten minutes and he says...that...” Minami shivered. “After—af—after Seung-Gil...” Minami's voice caught, and he rubbed roughly at his eyes, but it seemed as though he was unable to continue.

Yuri gently pried the cup of tea from Minami's shaking hands before he accidentally dropped it, and set it aside. He had no idea what he could say that might make Minami feel better—he was a complete mess, with his red eyes and runny nose, and he seemed to be struggling to keep himself from crying, although not managing it very well.

“Minami,” Yuri said gently, “it's—it's okay to cry...”

“No,” Minami interjected between sniffles, “I—I have to be strong. If I cry, he's winning. I can't let him win...I want to be strong...like you.”

“Me?” Yuri sputtered, his eyes widening a little in surprise.

“Yeah,” Minami replied with a small nod, and rubbed at his nose with his sleeve again. He shuffled close to Yuri again, linking his arms around the older omega's waist, and cuddled close with a content, catlike smile on his face. “You're so tough. You put up with everything that life throws at you, and you just keep on fighting, you never let this life we live define you, or change you. I wish I could be strong like that.”

Yuri reached up to pet his hair awkwardly, and Minami smiled. The sight of it made Yuri want to weep. How was it possible for someone who's experienced so many horrible things to smile?

Yuri rocked him like a child, and rubbed his back, not trusting himself to speak. He'd never seen himself as strong, not how Minami seemed to, at any rate. He'd always viewed himself as a survivor by sheer stubbornness, but never strong.

When Minami had completely exhausted himself, Yuri had come to no conclusions to how he felt about Minami's proclamation that he wanted to be like him. Whatever that meant.

Carefully, he untangled himself from Minami, and tucked the omega in like he was a child. Yuri sat down on the edge of the bed, reluctant to leave him alone, and stroked the golden locks of his hair gently.

I can't exactly blame Phichit for saying that, Yuri thought as he watched the omega sleep. Something about Minami just makes you want to protect him...

The scent of a nearby alpha suddenly permeated the air, but it did not unnerve Yuri as it usually would, for he could tell that it was Otabek, and likely he was just coming to check on Minami. With a small sigh, Yuri stood up and headed for the door where Otabek was waiting, the alpha rocking on his heels with a faint look of uncertainty and concern in his eyes.

“How is he?” Otabek asked when Yuri stepped out and shut the door softly. Otabek reached for Yuri, as though he wanted to take his hand, but froze as though he suddenly realized what he was doing, and dropped his arm.

Yuri tried to mirror Otabek's nonchalance, and hid his disappointment behind a neutral mask.

“A little freaked out,” Yuri answered belatedly after an awkward pause. “He was really upset out by what Phichit said...did you and Viktor set that up? Because if you did—”

“—we didn't,” Otabek interrupted with a frown. “Neither of us knew he would say that, and I swear I had no idea he'd come on to Minami like that. Viktor said he'd heard Yuuri mention Minami to Phichit, but not as a setup sort of thing, because he brought you up too, it was him describing his friends to Phichit, no more.”

“He's just so...so damaged,” Yuri said, and almost unconsciously shifted closer to Otabek. The alpha's arm fell to Yuri's back immediately, and Yuri marvelled at how his entire body seemed to relax at the casual touch. “I think Phichit might do more harm than good if he pushes.”

“He knows that,” Otabek murmured softly. “Now, at any rate. He feels really guilty for scaring Minami, that wasn't his intention, and he kept apologizing at least half a dozen times after you left to check on him.”

“Figures Yuuri would be friends with someone as apologetic as himself...” Yuri muttered, and Otabek chuckled softly. A hand lifted from his waist to cradle his cheek, and Yuri leant into the touch with a tiny sigh.

“Yuri?” Otabek asked in the same soft tone, and Yuri lifted his gaze to Otabek.

“Hmm?”

“What exactly are we doing?” His voice dropped to a lower, huskier sound. He was closer than before, and his face carried a now-familiar mingled expression of confusion and uncertainty.

“I—I don't know,” Yuri replied nervously as he lifted his hands to twine them through the front of Otabek's shirt. “I wish I could work out why I feel so comfortable when you hold me like this...I used to hate it.”

“I want to say, 'maybe we should postpone your trip and explore this' but I can't do that. It's not good for either of us,” Otabek said, but even as he did so, he tugged Yuri flush against his chest. Yuri shivered with delight at the feeling of the hard body pressed into his, and pressed himself up against Otabek firmly, not unlike how Minami always snuggled with him.

“Why would it be not good?” Yuri asked, “what if I never feel like this again?”

“You need time away,” Otabek replied, and with a look on his face like he was trying to lift a sixteen-ton weight with his pinkie, he pulled back from Yuri, but kept one arm at his back as he led him away to Yuri's bedroom down the hall.

Upon reaching the room, Otabek guided Yuri over to the settee and sat down. When Yuri joined him he tried to make the fact that he'd sat down rather close to Otabek as nonchalant as possible, but something in the look Otabek gave him told Yuri that he didn't buy it. Instead, he continued his train of thought as though they had never been interrupted.

“You need time to spread your wings and be you, whoever that might be,” Otabek said gently, but firmly. “You've spent the last two years of your life either running—God knows how you even fed yourself during that time—or subjugated by an Omega House, and then by me. It would not be fair for me to beg you to stay, and that is why I suggested you leave. There are internet and phone connections that go both ways, and we can stay in touch if you like, but I do not expect it—or deserve it. If you choose later to come back, we can explore going further with this relationship, but I do not wish to live your life for you. I only want you if you want me. Does that make sense?”

“But I do want you,” Yuri said emphatically, and froze almost immediately. Otabek raised his eyebrows in clear disbelief, and Yuri felt his face grow warm with embarrassment.

“That makes a switch from barely a handful of months ago—a big switch,” Otabek said as he reached out to brush a few strands of hair from Yuri's eyes. “That's why I want you to leave, even if it's temporary. I want you to be sure, and I don't want you to stay because, like Minami, you might carry some sort of misplaced gratitude for me for saving your life. I don't want to keep you—not like I used to. I want to be part of your life, Yuri, not own it.”

“I...” Yuri paused and bit his lip. “I wish I knew what to say to that,” he said, and bowed his head a little. “It's hard, and it's confusing, because even when you first took me, you were always weirdly comforting...but scary at the same time. I don't know if you meant it, the scary part, I mean, but it's just...I don't know what's right and what's wrong anymore. When Minami first started crushing on you I got so...so jealous, and I...all I think about is you. I don't even know if it's right, or if it's healthy, or what. I'm just really scared that I've gone and broken myself—”

Two fingers brushed over Yuri's lips, silencing him. Yuri blinked as he looked up at Otabek, who had adopted a stern, serious look.

“You are not broken, Yuri,” he said firmly. “And if you were, it would be my fault that that happened, not yours. I was the one who treated you so badly, and you were always the strong one, who fought against my attempts every step of the way. Do not blame yourself for my terrible behaviour, please.”

The vocalization of please wavered, and Yuri's gaze snapped up to his eyes. Yuri's lips parted in surprise, his own eyes widening a little as he tried to absorb what he was seeing.

Otabek was on the verge of tears.

Without allowing himself to overthink the action, Yuri closed the distance between them, and kissed Otabek gently.

Otabek's hands fell immediately to Yuri's chest, resting lightly against him, and Yuri could feel the muscle flexing in indecision of whether or not Otabek wished to stop him. In the end, his longing for Yuri won, and his hands slipped further down to rest at Yuri's waist. He drew the omega closer as he kissed him back, and Yuri let out a tiny moan as he shifted closer to his alpha.

“I don't want to be imprisoned, or stripped of rights that I know I deserve,” Yuri murmured, then kissed Otabek again. “But I don't want to lose this either. I just wish I knew what the right thing to do was.”

“I will wait for you, Yuri,” Otabek murmured, and kissed him again. “But you need to go. You need to know who you are without me hovering over you. Like I said, I have no expectations; I do not feel as though you owe me anything. If you decide that what we are sharing at this moment is some sort of misplaced gratitude for my saving your life, and you truly do not wish to pursue this, do not feel guilty—I will accept it. I refuse to do anything that might hurt you again.”

Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek's neck and clung to him, wishing that he knew what to do. No answers came to him, and he let out a soft, despondent sigh.

He didn’t know what to do.

A/N: If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :P you can also support me on Patreon, where I am posting all things related to my upcoming cookbook. Simply Vegan

NLMG Masterpost

#otayuri #otayuri abo #otayuri omegaverse #otayuri fic #otayuri fic rec

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landofquartzandmelody · 7 years

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ok i finished hiveswap act 1 lmao. i actually liked most of it a lot i think? and there’s a lot to talk about and there’s also a few things which were like.. Incredibly annoying. my overall impression was good tho! i’m going to dump my thoughts under a readmore though so no one accidentally gets spoiled

obvious warning for that !!

the setting is actually incredibly detailed and i occupied myself for a long time clicking on everything in the background? the art was really pretty and the actual gameplay itself was really smooth and not glitchy at all.

the video cutscenes didn’t play for me at all lmao. I had a few tabs of text-only websites open, and join.me, and that was it. i couldn’t easily lower the settings to make it run smoother either? which was really annoying, and i don’t see why the cutscenes were sooo much harder for my computer to get through than the actual gameplay.

the only other glitch i had was a framing glitch in jude’s treehouse i think

i liked most of the puzzles a lot and it all seemed very organic and fun. using items on other items was pretty cool, and i only got stuck like once or twice.

i really did not like the snake game mainly because i had to swap to using my keyboard for that and that alone lmao.

the monster fights were REALLY fun, i thought. they had a really classic homestuck feel.

it was kind of hard to walk up and down the stairs, actually. there wasn’t enough room to click where you needed to go and that was a bit irritating

i really really really loved the harleyclaire mansion!! everything about the first part of the game was REALLY good!!!

there’s so much to get into with jake and joey and jude and anna claire that it’s nuts tbh. but i really liked everything about that. imo it dealt with parental issues in a lot more depth than hs ever did, and surprisingly nuanced parental issues is definitely an hs thing. but joey’s problems with jake are a lot more fleshed out and realistic.

definitely one of the themes is that the adults in joey’s life have never been there for her. her mom isn’t there because she’s dead, roxy isn’t ‘there’ because she’s irresponsible and is already developing drinking problems, and jake isn’t there because he’s always been somewhere else. so there’s something interesting when xefros talks about parents there

i think i was expecting jake to be a decent father so i was definitely really sad when it became obvious that he was kind of.. not? and it’s evident that he’s really screwed joey up, but i think that it’s also very in line with how canon portrays jake. like his biggest flaw was being unwilling to put in the emotional work and commitment that his friends needed.

sometimes he was definitely scared of those, so i can easily conceive of jake taking the easy way out and heading out to trawl the pacific for a meteor baby.

the line about how ‘having a second thing which is sort of like the first thing but somewhere else is exactly the same as having the first thing’

it’s interesting that jade and joey both do the same thing by projecting on their dead guardians. jade’s thinking is a lot more magical than joey’s, but it really shines a light on how everything we assumed about grandpa harley was through the eyes of a girl who never really got to know him.

and like he died well before he could disappoint her, so.

it was REALLY really sad but i don’t think i actually have a problem with it.

part of the reason i don’t have a problem with it is bc it made joey claire’s characterization SO much more compelling

because she’s very angry at her father for doing the things he did, and is openly disparaging about him, and even chooses to use her mother’s last name instead of his? but she’s not angry or hard or bitter

i love my hard trauma girls but it’s really nice that joey just gets kinder and better in the face of a childhood full of neglect- without being pushed to forgive or minimize the damage that was done to her

the detail about joey absolutely refusing to use guns because she doesn’t want to be like her dad, and choosing to love animals and heal them was so good. and how that’s framed as an act of rebellion?

like the idea that kindness can be radical but that =/= forgiveness.

we didn’t see a lot of jude but i loved everything about him so much

like it was pretty subtle so i don’t know if y’all would consider it ‘canon’ but the bit where joey says that ‘when things got bad with my brother, our babysitter took him to see a doctor, and he was better for a while’ seems like it’s saying joey is being treated for a mental illness of some sort?

which seems completely in line with his character! he almost falls into the trap where it’s like ‘we all called this person crazy for seeing all these conspiracies but he was right all along’ but he doesn’t and that’s nice. it’s very subtle and pretty respectful imo. (also, fox mulder)

he and joey are the cutest siblings in the entire universe, and he was so sweet to her. he seems very earnest about wanting to protect her and caring about her.

the part where his birds left him made me SOOOO SAD. it was so sad. i felt so bad for him. I named dammek’s catdeer Frohike to pay my respects even though frohike was the worst gunman.

i’m really worried about him tho. i hope he’ll be okay without joey around

joey claire is such an obvious lesbian

honestly i know a lot of people were nervous because it seemed like it was setting her up to have a relationship with xefros but i absolutely don’t think that’s the case, just because she’s definitely gay.

every time she looked at a picture of a girl in the harleyclaire mansion she had one gay thought or another, and her entire room was plastered completely in images of pretty girls. not ONE guy.

there was also a lot of dialogue which implied she felt guilty or ashamed of how she felt when looking at girls, or like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to, or if people would judge her for having pretty pictures of girls on her walls.

also her password being the name of a boy she has certainly never met or talked to, and who we never saw an image of (despite said guy being an actor? i think) or heard mentioned before

the scene where xefros mentions he is a boy who likes boys and joey is like ‘oh. huh’ seems to me like it’s very obviously from the pov of a lesbian who had absolutely no idea what a lesbian is, or that she is allowed to be one.

i think joey is definitely going to realize she is gay at some point in the future acts

i didn’t expect to like or care about xefros as much as i did?

he was obnoxious at first but basically as soon as we figured out what was up with dammek and that xefros thought he’d been speaking to dammek he became 100% less annoying and i started liking him a lot lmao.

he and joey had a really sweet friendship, actually.

homestuck breezed over a lot of the more horrible things about troll civilization, but hiveswap did a very good job of making it patently obvious how horrible troll civilization is for xefros and other lowbloods, and i think it has a redeeming effect on the Other Stuff.

i like that they made it obvious what’s happening is horrible and needs to like, stop or whatever, and don’t like... condemn the revolutionaries.

his situation isn’t really played for laughs or mocked.

that being said a lot of the writing for dammek was really really annoying and dumb.

people like dammek definitely exist and i think hiveswap does a faaairly decent of not conflating dammek being a shithead with the rest of the movement? the joke about personal property was very very annoying lmao but the movement itself is portrayed as legitimate and necessary. it’s a dumb reactionary type of joke but it doesn’t ruin the game for me

i do think he’s going to Learn To Be A Better Person while he’s hanging out with jude. i don’t think he’s going to get a vriska type arc at all but i do think he’ll learn the error of his ways.

i wish that we’d gotten to see a bit more of his personal motivation for being so intense about revolution.

i ALSO wish they hadn’t used like actual symbols of movements in the bg that was really annoying and crass imo. and if they had to, i wish xefros had had an anarchist flag or whatever.

abuse / neglect are big themes in hs so i’m not really surprised at all that they came back? they definitely shouldn’t have advertised dammek and xefros as being cute moirails though because it’s kind of scummy to do a bait and switch like that.

i don’t think the game’s going to be hetero though. xefros and joey would be incredibly ugly and i doubt it’ll happen

i also think homestuck the original thing is actually pretty on the nose about class stuff, even if it does feel the need to like couch that in Fake Alien Racism? at the very least i’d be surprised if hiveswap tried to pull the You’re The Same As Your Oppressors thing

i’m still annoyed that there was so much promo art of xefros and dammek being cute together when the actual game condemned every interaction they had. i think that it would have been possible to say the same things as they wanted to while also not making dammek a crazy leftist stereotype and grounding him in reality like a real person.

to be fair, we are going to get a sequel game with him, so he’ll probably be fleshed out a LOT better then.

trizza is somehow so much more evil than expected? how evil she is feels a lot more real than like, the condesce, tbh. she feels like a real person

i’m SUPER curious about cridea now and i can’t wait to see what she’ll be like

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