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chocosvt · 3 years

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⚬ pairing: joshua x reader ⚬ word count: 5040 ⚬ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⚬ genres: FLUFF, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!joshua, some annoying neighbour tropes, a little bit of pining, wintery pizzazz, joshua is a hopeless romantic :(

✧✎ synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong.

✧✎ a/n: oooUUooouu YES! this is a gift to my lovely secret santa, @luvshuas !! ♡ in my first ask, i learned that dani liked using paint by numbers, AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS ADORABLE so i helped use it to create this fic! dani, you are such a joy to talk to AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS XOXOXO !! :D

Last week, someone new had moved into the empty apartment one floor above yours. You didn’t know who. Not their name, not their face, just that they occupied the once vacant space of room 24D. Supposedly, their next-door neighbours had already brought them some housewarming gifts. A watering can filled with flowers, a wreath of white candles, and an old sewing tin now converted into a container for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

All closely resembling the gifts you received during your first week at the apartment complex. It made sense though, considering most rooms were home to very elderly couples. At first, you planned a brief gap in your day to visit this stranger and welcome them to such a small complex. Find out if they were old or young, endearing or irritable, sensible or flat out crazy. But you never visited room 24D, because you were currently in a moat about your ex-partner.

An extremely deep, inescapable moat.

Not only had they broken up with you on the day you planned to introduce them to your parents, they decided it would be most efficient to do so through a stupid text message. From Monday to Friday, you’d been moping in a curled-up ball on the couch, blowing into tissues and flicking through the holiday romcoms even though they were all so cookie-cutter and dull. To make matters worse, it had been snowing all week, shutting you indoors as a draft built up outside the windowsills.

You had completely forgot about the newbie who’d just moved in upstairs. Until one day, when they decided to make their presence known in the most jarring way possible.

That particular morning, you were finally feeling stable enough to not eat dry, stale cereal straight from the box. You were feeling well enough to avoid another twelve hours moulding into the couch. While a cold wind blew against the windows and rattled the glass, you poured yourself some tea with the new teapot your mother parceled as an early present. And that’s when you heard it: an eruption of electric sound from the floor directly above yours. It sounded like a guitar, if that guitar were plugged into a massive amp and its chords were being plucked by one thousand fingers.

Coincidentally, you spilt tea, scalding and runny, all over the countertop. It started dribbling down your cupboards and creating blotches on the tiled flooring. At random, the sound stopped.

By lunchtime you were unwinding in the shower, your eyes shut as the water poured onto your face and streamed toward the drain. When you squeezed out some shampoo onto your fingers, you heard the chord progression again. This time louder, if that was even possible. The bottle flung from your wet hands and crashed against the floor, startling you half to death, a trail of wasted shampoo then painted to the wall. But the sound didn’t stop immediately. Unlike last time, the stranger railed on their guitar for half an hour at least.

Yet the last straw didn’t come until evening.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a water jar next to your elbow, you were using your new paint by numbers kit. You had been waiting all day to try it, brushing in the mesmerizing colours of a watery-purple landscape. For the last time that day, you were jolted by the riff of an electric guitar, causing you to jerk a huge, thick streak of black paint right across the paper, effectively ruining it. How horrible. How Terrible.

And you were not going to let the incident slide.

Room 24D.

The room directly above yours. After banging your fist rather inhospitably against the door, you couldn’t lie that the face which greeted you was a definite shock. A young man probably in his early twenties, with curly, brown hair styled neatly yet in disarray, and these wide, glass-like eyes that felt so penetrating you were afraid to glare him down. In fact, you were a bit nervous.

“I don’t know where you stayed at last, b-but at this complex, people don’t usually slam on their electric guitars.”

But so what if you were nervous? You had grown accustomed to sharing this complex with seniors. The thought of someone this young (and admittedly – quite beautiful) had somewhat stunted your brain. The stranger looked at you as though he had nothing to say. He started bobbing his head and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing it doesn’t happen ‘cause everyone here is over seventy and crochets scarves until bedtime. It’s not my fault you’re the only one who’s still got decent hearing.”

Your eyes narrowed; your brow heavily creased.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

He hesitated at first, then replied, “Joshua.”

“Okay, Joshua, I’d rather have everyone in this building crocheting scarves out the damn window if it meant not listening to a stupid electric guitar all day. You ruined my paint by numbers kit.”

Joshua laughed. “Your what?” He then flashed a grin which suggested he was holding back a satirical comment.

“My paint by numbers kit!” You repeated, feeling your nervousness dissolve into irritation. “It’s ruined, and I’m blaming it on you because it’s your fault. My whole week has been awful and you just made it even worse. So there. I hope you’re happy.”

For some reason, Joshua leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like someone who had all the time in the world. He appeared way too comfortable. Something about it irked you while simultaneously pulling this weird, fuzzy string in your chest. The boy folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Why was your week awful?” He questioned.

There was a sweetness to his voice which hadn’t been there before, and you absolutely weren’t going to fall for it, even if it sounded like he ate a spoonful of honey and might taste just as good.

“No. Forget it,” you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “I said what I had to say. Just be quieter, please.”

You turned around sharply, making your way toward the elevator based at the end of the corridor. Those magnetic eyes of his seemed to be glued to your backside, an almost palpable feeling.

“Okay!” He called out. “Great chat! Nice to meet you too!”

The boy was being wholly sarcastic of course. After returning to your apartment, you cleaned up the kitchen table, sweeping away your paint by numbers kit into a drawer just in case you were one day struck with the motivation to fix it up. Probably not.

“Uh—excuse me? You called me, remember? So don’t go shifting the fault like always. I just can’t believe how immature you are! And, you know what, I’m hanging up now! Don’t call back!”

Smashing your finger against the phone screen, you ended the call, silencing the aggravated voice that had pounded through the line just a second before. An unfortunate misdial resulted in your ex phoning you at the supermarket. The interaction immediately turned south, prompting you to hurry outside into the snow, wedging the brown paper bag of produce underneath your arm and against your chest, all while you barked into the phone with the other hand.

Snowflakes were brimming the edge of your wool hat; your fingertips numb and stiff. Your pacing, impatient footsteps were stamped across the white ground. Things had been difficult enough without your ex invading even the most boring parts of your life, and now a mundane stop at the market had left you intensely unsettled.

As you huffed a web of your breath into the air, you spotted something unexpected: Joshua helping Mrs. Akané load the groceries into her small silver-bullet car. She lived alone on the bottom floor of the apartment complex, one of the kindest old ladies in the whole building. Every winter she had knitted you a pink pair of mittens. When Joshua opened the car door for her, she gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder and her patented rosy-cheeked smile.

Since you scorned him for his abrasive guitar playing, it only happened less often, though it was never any quieter. You realized that he belonged in a band. From time to time they would take the stage at the downtown bar, engendering a space so packed it was nearly impossible to wriggle to the counter for a quick drink. Joshua invited you to his Friday night gig – which was tonight – and while you had contemplated the decision to attend, the disheartening encounter with your ex had officially soiled the mood.

Joshua noticed you, probably looking cold and mad.

“So,” he began, “are you coming tonight?”

Adjusting the groceries underneath your arm, you shrugged, meanwhile the hollow nature of your eyes screamed a blatant no. If anything, you wanted to be back on that living room couch, eating an entire tray of frosted shortbread cookies and dabbing at your tears.

“Seriously?” Joshua frowned. “You’re gonna pass? It is ‘cause you’re still mad about the guitar playing? I’m sorry, okay.”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, no. It’s not because of your disruptive, loud guitar playing. I’m just not having a good day.”

Bits of snow began to powder Joshua’s brown hair. His cheeks were blushed and his nose rosy.

“No offense,” the boy laughed, “but it seems like you’re never having a good day.” He then shook his head, scattering the snowflakes from between the fibres of his hair. “How about you come to our little concert shindig thing, listen to our set – which is great, I promise – then we can talk about it, back at my place.”

For a moment, you paused, and this perplexed expression briefly eclipsed your features. Did he just subtly attempt to persuade you into some sort of… Date? No, it was too soon for anything like that. He was probably joking anyways (despite his straight face).

“I don’t know… I’m tired. Maybe another time.”

You started carrying the brown bag of produce to your car, parked just down the street. Joshua chuckled and tagged along at your side, the snow crunching softly under your feet.

“When’s another time?” He asked.

Throwing open the car door and sliding the bag inside, you sighed. “Another time is another time. It’s self-explanatory.”

“So you’re not coming?” Joshua questioned in finality.

“No.” You replied, rubbing your cold fingers together, attempting to spark some warmth. “I’m not.”

It was then that Joshua took your hands in his, a gesture that completely flicked you off your axis, and started to squeeze them, kneading your skin with his thumbs until you felt the uncomfortable stiffness gradually wear off. He brought your hands close to his face, pursed his pink, very pretty lips, and started to blow on them. A sensation fizzled to life in your lower tummy. Not only were you heating up significantly, but you felt too hot. Scary hot.

“That’s a shame.” Joshua said, releasing your hands carefully, like he’d just touched gold. “But I can wait for another time.”

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Most likely because you were regretting the decision to not attend Joshua’s gig at the bar. The fact that no matter how hard you pushed, memories of your past relationship would still linger like a heavy mist, preventing you from being happy, from detaching, from forming new connections. Wet drops of snow tapped against your window. And then, at around one in the morning, you heard a knock at your apartment door.

Joshua. Evidently intoxicated. His guitar case slung over his back. A foggy sort of look disrupting his usual countenance.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye, “couldn’t get into my room. Think I could crash—” the boy stopped midsentence to yawn and hiccup, his face flushed pink, “crash here?”

“Did you walk home from the bar?” You asked, disregarding his inquiry.

“No, Jihoon drove me.” Joshua answered, bracing his hand against the threshold. “Pretty please? Can I stay?”

“Fine.”

You took the dark green guitar case from Joshua’s back, stamped with numerous luggage stickers that made it seem as though he’d flown all over the globe. After settling the case beside the couch, you helped Joshua lie down, though he flopped rather ungracefully with his face squished into a pillow.

For an awkward moment, you were just standing there, twiddling your thumbs as Joshua squirmed onto his back.

“Do you want a glass of water?” You proposed.

Joshua carded a hand through his brown locks and further dishevelled them. His face seemed to glow and the manner in which his eyes softly shut had you feeling oddly sympathetic. Like you needed to take care of him.

Rather than answering your question, Joshua sighed.

“I can’t believe you flaked on me.” He said. “I looked forward to seeing you there all week. I told my friends about you.”

Your toes dug into the carpet; teeth fastened into your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if he was rambling drunken nonsense or being wholly truthful. Joshua titled his head to the side, nestling his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

“Like I said, there’ll be another time.”

“Can I have a blanket?” He mumbled sleepily.

Disappearing into your bedroom for a moment, you grabbed Joshua a spare blanket which often lied next to you on the bed, just in case it got a little too cold at night. Your heating was fairly shabby.

“Here you go.” You said, dropping it on him.

After pulling the fabric up to his chin and spending a minute getting comfy, Joshua started smiling, lashes long against his cheeks.

“Appreciate it.” He replied. ”Kick me out early if you want.”

When Joshua scheduled his next gig at the bar, you made sure to be there, settled near the back at the cocktail counter. As you anticipated, the space filled up quickly, and you kept tucking in your legs whenever someone scooted by to use the washroom or find a better vantage point. You didn’t mention that you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise which had oddly excited you. Like you were someone important to him, even though you probably weren’t.

You enjoyed his band’s performance. While sipping at something syrupy and a little too cherry flavoured, you couldn’t help but smile behind the glass, shake your foot even, as Joshua strummed down on the electric guitar. There was a pink-haired drummer seated behind him, and a bassist with a dashing, heavenly smile. Eventually, the tone of their music shifted near the end of the set. Joshua exchanged his electric guitar for the acoustic one kept in that dark green, stickered case. And when he started to sing a slower, more sentimental song, you felt something cotton-like in your chest.

How could his voice be this soft? How could it turn so sweet? How could his eyes switch from a powerful ripple to calm water? And why were you heating up all over? The glass hit your knee as you continued to watch Joshua sing, as though you’d fallen into a trance, like a sailor caught by the lullaby of a siren.

But then, as your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment, they attached to some who looked awfully familiar.

Goddammit. Of course.

Why did your stupid ex have to be everywhere?

Why did they have to invade every aspect of your life? Especially the enjoyable parts? Once the stage ended and Joshua began thanking the crowd for an energetic reaction, they turned around and grabbed their friend excitedly. Yet, the thrill on their face disappeared the second they noticed you, glaring bitterly, angrily, still clearly hurt. That’s when you decided to leave.

You were halfway down the block when you heard your name being shouted. Pausing beneath a street lamp, you attempted to peer through the heavy flurries sweeping down from the night sky. A silhouette began to take shape. Joshua finally pressed through into the light, without his jacket, his equipment, or even a damn sweater.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned him, wondering how cold he must be feeling in that white t-shirt.

Joshua took a few more steps forward. “I saw you there,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath, “but then you just stormed out. I nearly threw myself down the back entrance trying to catch up with you, y’know. How do you walk that damn fast?”

“I just—I wanted to beat the crowd home.” You lied.

Joshua took in another big breath, then nodded his head. “So, what did you think? You like the music?”

“It’s cool… Why did you leave without a jacket? I mean, it’s snowing like crazy. You’re gonna get hypothermia or something.”

“Well, I didn’t want to let you get away.” The boy laughed, brushing off some flurries compiling on his shoulder. “It was great to see you there. But, why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy.”

You shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

At that, you weren’t expecting Joshua to have a response. Maybe he’d be a little puzzled and have to think about it. Instead, he seemed to be formulating a surprise of his own.

“Because I have a song for you,” Joshua revealed, “I wrote it with Jihoon. It’s an acoustic thing. But I could turn it hard rock too.”

It felt like someone had turned the table. Ironically, you were the one struggling to reply, your brow furrowing in the dim light as you stared at this boy with his glowing cheeks and his hair disrupted by the flakes of snow. You sniffled, cold air hitting your lungs.

“Why would you write a song about me?”

No one had ever done such a gesture for you before. Not that you had been acquainted with many musicians or lyricists. You felt strange, but also warm, and heart-fluttery, and like you were possibly falling for someone harder than ever before. Joshua approached you tentatively and grabbed your hand, his eyes soft.

“Probably because I like you.” Joshua murmured. “A lot.”

Your heart started to pound, and it felt like someone was banging their fists against your chest. Even if you had denied it in the beginning, the truth was that you liked Joshua too. And yet, those reciprocating words somehow fell to the bottom of your feet. Because as much as you wanted it, you still weren’t ready for someone new.

“Joshua…” you squeezed his hand and looked into those endearing eyes of his, “I-I can’t right now. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and now that’s over, but I’m still trying to get over it. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Joshua answered, running his thumb between your knuckles. “You’re not ready, I get it.”

Breathing out slowly, you smiled at him.

You were yanking open all the drawers in the kitchen, trying to remember where exactly you had stuck that little metal whisk. A bowl of unmixed cupcake batter was waiting to be stirred. Each year that it was open, you signed up for the Complex Gift Exchange, and it just so happened that sixty-five-year-old Miss Dupont really liked vanilla cupcakes. You pulled out the drawer that had been hiding the ruined, stained paper courtesy of your paint by numbers kit.

Rolling your eyes, you slammed it shut, only to realize you’d left the whisk sitting behind the big bag of flour on the counter.

Even though you had turned down Joshua that one night in the snow, he didn’t act spiteful or weird about it. And somehow, you two had grown closer since. Joshua was very easy to talk to. He was a good listener. No matter how many times you ran into each other on the elevator, or at the supermarket, the letter boxes in the lobby or at the car lot, Joshua always made time to listen to whatever mishap had bothered you that day. He still railed on his electric guitar every now and then, though you were beginning to accept it. Baby steps.

Apparently, one of his bandmates was visiting today.

You knew exactly when he’d arrived too, because as soon as you pulled the cupcakes out from the oven to cool, this wave of intense sound; drumming, symbols, guitar, everything, exploded from the floor above, like someone had just thrown a clump of instruments into a hurricane. You stared up at the ceiling winsomely and sighed.

Dressed in a long, thick winter coat, you went outside the complex to visit the garden, now blanketed by snow and sparkling white. You brushed off the bench that had once sat before a fiery pink row of petunias and took a seat. It was much quieter.

“Hey!”

Or so you thought.

Turning around, you gazed up at the apartment complex, spotting two familiar faces hanging out from a fourth story window.

“What?!” You shouted back.

Joshua grinned, then cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier. “Were we being too loud?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” His friend yelled. “Were we too loud?!” You had learned the other face was Jihoon, the band drummer, his hair now a rusty shade of crimson. He helped write most of their music.

“No, I’m just sitting out here in the wind and snow and below zero temperatures because I want to!” You replied at the top of your lungs.

Waving at you apologetically, Joshua kept smiling. “Sorry! I’m gonna kick him out soon!” He pointed at Jihoon. “If you want, you can come up here and listen to our last rehearsal!”

Jihoon shoved Joshua’s head out of the way.

“Don’t come up here!” The drummer exclaimed. “It’s not even close to ready yet. He’s just saying that because he’s in—”

A hand clamped swiftly to the boy’s mouth, muffling the remainder of his sentence like it was top secret. Joshua then dragged him away from the open window. Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, you stared at the vacant space until Joshua reappeared a moment later, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that!” Joshua called. “We’re almost done!”

“I’m in no rush!” You answered, turning back around.

It was true. There weren’t too many pressing things you needed to get done today, besides making the buttercream frosting for Miss Dupont’s cupcakes. The weather wasn’t even as terrible as you made it seem. The wind was light, and the shining sun helped mitigate the usual bitterness of winter. It was quite nice out.

Until about ten minutes later, when Joshua threw a snowball at your back. You spun around quickly, glaring at the boy who was dusting his hands clean of snow, standing near the complex doorway. In that moment, you wanted to be angry at him. But, to be honest, you felt like laughing instead.

“Shouldn’t I be the one throwing snowballs at you?”

Joshua shrugged. “If you could even hit me.”

“Keep your eyes open tonight, Joshua Hong.” You comically threatened him. “Where are you going, anyways?”

“I have to get my person a gift for the exchange thing.” He said, pulling a hat over his hair. “And a new guitar pick.”

“Have fun with that.”

Then, waiting for him to turn around, you hastily packed together a snowball and threw it against the back of his coat.

Miss Dupont somehow figured out who was responsible for her gift. She asked you to give her the cupcakes early, because she swore, she was had been able to smell them baking through the air ducts. Maybe you added too much vanilla. Everyone was supposed to exchange their gifts tomorrow, leaving them by the door or delivering them in person. You didn’t have a clue as to who could be preparing your gift. As long as it wasn’t another candle wreath to collect dust in your closet, you figured you’d be fine with it.

Tonight would be your last opportunity in a long while to watch Joshua’s band perform at the downtown bar. You’d missed their last show, ruminating over the possibility of encountering your ex again; feeling those horrible emotions which were nothing more than poison in disguise. After the New Year, Joshua was planning to visit South Korea with his bandmates for a few weeks. It would be awfully strange to not hear another symphony from his electric guitar, or Jihoon’s drumkit. Jeonghan never really stopped by much.

It was at least an hour or so before Joshua was scheduled to perform. So, you decided to walk down the street to the lane of trees now wrapped and curled with lights. There were small, twinkling white lights. Large, blue lights shaped like hanging icicles. Some blinked in a specific pattern while others morphed colours. At night, it made quite the spectacle. Many people had stopped, much like yourself, to admire the aurora and pull their significant other a little bit closer. You huffed, hating this lonesomeness inside you.

But then you felt a quick pair of fingers dance up your back, and immediately recognized his eyes shining like stars.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at the lights.” Joshua remarked, zipping up his jacket. “They’ve been up for a while now.”

“It’s always a magnet for couples.” You told him, glancing around at all the handholding and heads leaned adoringly on shoulders. “And I am—well, I was, standing here alone.” Inside your coat pocket, you played with a piece of lint, realizing that perhaps you finally felt ready and significantly healed to consider another relationship.

Looking at you from the corner of his eye, Joshua nodded.

It seemed as though the lights were a place he visited frequently, even amongst all the couples. To you, Joshua seemed like someone who was inspired by love. The not so subtle nature of awkward yet enamored eye contact which made people giggly. Holding onto the very tips of someone’s fingers because you couldn’t let go of their hand even for a second. Pressing an ear to a comfortable chest, listening for a rhythmic, thumping heartbeat. You bet he liked kisses too. Quick kisses on cheeks and gentle kisses on noses and slow, warm kisses to the mouth which could set a fire in your belly.

Out of the blue, you asked him something personal.

“How fast do you usually fall for someone?”

Joshua’s eyes traced the twinkling lights of the tree, all the way to the very top.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Kicking at a lump of hard snow, you sighed. “I think I fall too quickly. Maybe that’s why my last relationship ended the way it did. I just… I don’t know, it could be that I jumped in without knowing what’s beneath me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

The boy glanced at you, snowflakes already beginning to stick in his hair. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. I mean, there’s always going to be some chance in a relationship. You don’t know until you’re in it.”

“I guess so.” You replied. “When I think about it, anything’s better than getting text message-dumped right before a family dinner.” Joshua wasn’t a stranger to the humiliating affairs of your past relationship. One night, after one too many beverages at the bar, you introduced him to the entire story.

“Bad luck.” The boy said.

“Bad taste, more like.” You sighed. “I mean, what was I thinking?”

Joshua shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Seriously, the right person will come along.”

Short laughter burst through your nose, and you looked at him with a knowing, lighthearted grin. “Are you supposed to be that person, Joshua Hong?”

“I’d like to think I am.” He chuckled, his cheeks getting rosier. “But I know you’re not ready. I can be patient, though.”

“So, you’re going to wait for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua nodded. “For you, and you only? Of course.”

At that, something deep in your chest began to stir. The feeling robbed you of your words and left you breathless. Afraid of what you might do in the silence between you, quickly, you changed the subject.

“Am I going to hear that special song you wrote? Or have you scrapped it already?”

“You’ll hear it.” Joshua said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ivory guitar pick. “Save your applause for the very end, though. I know you might be tempted to start cheering, come up on stage in front of everyone and try to kiss me or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to laugh, your breath becoming a thin cloud in the still coldness of winter.

“You wish, Joshua Hong.”

He sighed, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re right. I do.”

At approximately five o’clock in the morning, you were awakened by a fist banging at your front door. For a moment, you believed it was nothing more than part of a fuzzy dream, and simply tossed over in bed as your arms dug further under the pillow. However, the banging resumed almost instantly, and though it was very muffled, someone was calling your name.

Groaning, you dragged yourself from between the sheets and into the washroom, taking a quick sip of water before splashing some to your face. In a loose pair of shorts and a poorly adjusted tank-top, you stumbled to the front door, throwing it open while yawning.

“J-Joshua?” You mumbled, rubbing circles to your eye.

He stood on the opposite side of the threshold with a glimmery-red gift bag in his hand. For some reason, he was dressed in his jacket, those dark brown locks of his seeming damp or partly soaking as they were brushed back from his forehead. His cheeks and mouth were rosy, eyes glistering, and he was breathing deep.

You thought he looked gorgeous.

“Hey!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, as though he’d forgotten how early it was. “So, uh, weird news. Turns out we’re leaving for South Korea today, and we have to catch this seven-am flight. We’re kinda pressed for time. Jeonghan’s been helping me throw all my shit into these suitcases and—anyways, besides the point.” Taking in another breath, Joshua then held up the pretty red gift bag. “I got you for the Gift Exchange. Well—not really. But I made Mrs. Akané switch with me. This is for you.”

The sudden splurge of information had for feeling even more disorientated than when you first awakened. Joshua had to leave already? Had he been packing ever since you walked home together from his show? He pulled strings to get you for the Gift Exchange?

Reaching into the bag and pushing around some tissue paper, you pulled out a rectangular-shaped kit. It felt fairly heavy.

And then you realized just what he’d gotten you.

“Really?” You smiled, letting the bag drop to the floor because all you cared about was the project in your hands. “Another paint by numbers kit? I didn’t even know they sold these here!”

Joshua nodded, brushing some melted drops of snow off his cheek. “It wouldn’t have arrived on time if I ordered it online. Trust me, it was a process. I had to get Jeonghan’s grandma to make some calls because she’s friends with this craft store lady.” He half-sighed, half-laughed. “I just remembered you were so upset about it when I met you. About a lot of things. And I never stopped feeling sorry. I know I laughed at it and everything, but I thought it was cute.”

You brought the project to sit on the dinner table. Looking outside into the street light, you were shocked at how heavily it was snowing. Huge, fluffy clumps. No wonder Joshua’s hair was so damp and his skin so flushed. You couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago, you were sitting on that barstool near the back of the dim room, listening to him sing and feeling like you were starting to love all over again. Now, Joshua was being whisked away.

“I should really get going.” Joshua said, rubbing his pink nose, “Jeonghan and Jihoon are waiting for me down there.”

“W-Wait!” You exclaimed before the boy could disappear.

Joshua paused, though you could read the look of urgence coloured to his face. It was merely a few seconds you stood in that spot, fiddling anxiously with your fingers and struggling to take another step, yet it felt as though time had stretched itself out like plasticine.

And even though it was slightly terrifying, you had never felt so warm and full of thrill until you had crossed the space to kiss him. Your hands pushed against Joshua’s chest, searching for stability, as you experienced the soft sensation of your lips pressed so desperately to his. Joshua grabbed your cheek in his cold hand to tilt your head a little more left. He stared at you with a hazy, sort of dreamlike look, just for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Am I making you late?” You laughed breathily in between the heated breadth of another kiss.

Joshua shook his head, taking your face in both his hands, moulding his mouth against yours in a smile.

“They can wait just a minute longer,” he answered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this right when I have to leave. You’re really screwing me over, here.”

“Then finish it when you get back.” You smirked.

This time, you were certain of something: you hadn’t jumped too soon. You weren’t going to crash. You were falling in love.

✧✎ a/n: the end the end!! happy holidays !! <3 honestly think it’s kind of the dream to get joshua as ur apartment neighbour xoxo. HOPE U LIKED THIS DANI AND THAT IT GAVE YOU SOME SMILES heheh. i actually haven’t written for joshua in quite a while so i rly appreciated getting to experiment with this. i also love the idea of joshua in a band and being a sappy romantic who always writes abt his future muse ;_; i’m not a huge fluff person BUT I WILL GLADLY GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR THAT!

#caratwritersclub #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #joshua fanfic #joshua hong #seventeen fanfic #svt fluff #joshua fluff #svt x reader #joshua x reader

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nem0c · 2 years

Text

According to Hegel, Man is nothing but Desire for recognition, and History is but the process of the progressive satisfaction of this Desire, which is fully satisfied in and by the universal and homogenous State. But first Hegel had to anticipate the historical future (which, by definition, is unforseeable because it is free - that is, it arises from a negation of the present given), for the State that he had in mind was only in the process of formation; and we know that today it is still far from having an “empirical existence” or from being an “objective reality” or a “present real”. Furthermore, and this is much more important, how can one know that the satisfaction given in and by this State is truly a definitive satisfaction for Man as such, and not merely for one of his possible Desires? How can one know that the stabilization of the historical movement in the Empire is not simply a pause, the result of a momentary lassitude? By what right can one assert that this State will not engender in Man a new Desire, other than the Desire for Recognition, and that this State will not consequently be negated some day by a negating or creative Action other than the Action of Fighting and Work? One can make this assertion only by supposing that the Desire for recognition exhausts all human possibilities. But one has the right to make that supposition only if one has a complete and perfect knowledge of Man - that is, a universally and definitively valid - that is, absolutely true - knowledge. Now, by definition, the absolute truth can only be attained at the end of History. But the problem is precisely to determine this end of History. One is caught, then, in a vicious circle.

Alexandre Kojève, The Dialectic of the Real and the Phenomenological Method in Hegel

#kojeve #hegel #I love when kojeve brings out the teleological assumptions about history and the foundational ideas about universal knowledge hegel makes #notes that no currently living person or possibly even future person could accurately make these claims #and then is like anyway to continue

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enterprisetrampstamp · 3 years

Note

Request: TOS Spock and Bones being an adorable married couple while aboard the Enterprise!

"All I'm saying is, you could've warned me," Bones was complaining, before the fabric of his uniform pants had even touched the plastic of the bench across the table from his Captain.

Jim, his focus directed at the PADD containing the paperwork that Yeoman Rand would be coming to fetch in less than five minutes, hummed a neutral acknowledgement and trusted his Chief Medical Officer to continue his diatribe with only that minimum of prompting.

"A chance to prepare--" Bones's fork flicked through the air-- "A chance to brace myself. Pretty sure that after everything you've put me through over the years, Jimmy, I deserved one."

"Almost certainly," Jim agreed, dashing off another signature with the rubber tip of his stylus.

"Good of you to admit it. Spock didn't!"

"What didn't I do, Doctor?" Spock asked, and-- unlike when Bones had sat down-- Jim looked up to shoot his Number One a crooked grin of welcome. (It wasn't about Spock, specifically-- it was about that, that warm feeling of vicarious happiness he got at seeing his two best friends oh-so-casually brush their fingers against each other in a gentle "Good morning" kiss.)

Bones rolled his eyes; Spock raised an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't admit I deserved a bit of warning before you dumped an entire crop of fresh-faced, bushy-tailed morons in my lap." Bones stabbed at his eggs vindictively, his expression sour. "Do you know how much work--"

Oh, that's what this was about? The new nurses and interns who'd joined the crew at their last pit stop?

"They're not morons," Jim told him, amused, as hebturned back to scrolling through his PADD. "And you did have warning, Bones; you had to sign off on all of them."

"I was told that I was offering my opinion on their placement on other ships!" Bones threw his hands wide, his left hand smacking into Spock's chest unapologetically. "Not mine!"

Spock gently removed Bones's hand from his personal space, and Jim sighed. "At the time, you were," he said dryly. "But several of your nurses have resigned their commissions recently, and this mission has been turning out a lot differently than we anticipated at the start; you could always use some additional hands in surgery--"

"Like I would trust these fools with a scalpel--!"

"They aren't even fresh out of the Academy, Bones," Jim reminded him. "Every one of them has at least a year of prior experience in a hospital and performed admirably--" he looked up, eyebrows raised. "At least, according to your own assessment."

"Have they yet shown themselves to be unsatisfactory?" Spock asked, calmly cutting to the center of Bones's ranting, and Bones scowled as he buttered his toast.

"They're fine," he said, shortly. "But not a one of them is prepared for the differences between traditional hospital practices and those of a starship, Jim. On another ship--" he waved a hand. "They'd have time to ease into things. But here? On the Enterprise? They need their hands held, Jim, and Chris, Geoff, and I only have so many hands to go around."

Spock looked to be considering this point deeply, so Jim left him to it for the moment, glancing guiltily at the chronometer on the far wall of the mess and resuming the race to finish his paperwork. It's not that Bones was wrong, in Jim's opinion; it was just that they didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. The CMO and the indomitable Nurse Chapel would simply have to ride herd on the new kids until they either shaped up or washed out-- no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

"You believe they are likely to freeze the first time they're placed under pressure," Spock surmised.

Bones-- when Jim glanced up into the silence of hesitation-- pulled a face and shook his head. "All hospitals are, by definition, life or death situations; they've already proven they can handle 'pressure'," he said. "But basic xenobiology credits don't do justice to the realities of practicing your craft on biological systems you barely understand-- present company included-- with diseases no one's ever seen before and half the equipment you would have wanted. It's their imaginations I'm worried about, Mr. Spock."

"Then perhaps it is their imagination you should focus on training, Doctor."

"There are a couple security officers trying to put an improv comedy club together," Jim suggested, hiding his grin by ducking his head further towards the PADD as he dashed off another signature, and a bit of toasted crust bounced off of his temple after Bones threw it at him. "That was assault of a commanding officer, I'll have you know."

"Shove it, Jim. The grown ups are actually brainstorming solutions over here."

"Of course," Jim agreed, smoothly, and pretended that "brainstorming" was the only reason Bones had laid his hand over Spock's when Spock placed it palm up on the table.

"Sims, maybe?" Bones murmured. "I could write something up, if you'd be willing to code it. No right answers, only better ones; see what they come up with."

"It would be my pleasure, Doctor."

A beat, a shit-eating grin in his periphery, and Spock repeated, sharply-- "Doctor."

"My virgin ears and I are glad Bones kept that one telepathic," Jim said, hiding his own shit eating grin behind his cup of coffee as he took a sip, and Bones laughed.

"Not in front of the Captain, Mr. Spock, or whatever will appear on your next performance review?"

Spock sighed. "You have a singularly frustrating personality, Doctor."

"You're one to talk. You know, Jim, he uses cinnamon toothpaste?"

"Perish the thought." Jim signed another dotted line, his feeling of foreboding growing as he scrolled further and further down towards the next. Janice was going to be here in--

"Your yeoman has just walked into the mess, Captain," Spock told him.

"And she's a woman on a mission," Bones added, eith a thread of laughter lacing through his tone. "A tactical retreat may be in order, Jim boy."

Captain James Tiberius Kirk did not turn to look over his shoulder, because that would be a sign of weakness. "Buy me five minutes," he said, his tone just shy of an order. "I'll speed read."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Bones demanded, but Spock-- bless those pointed ears of his-- was already rising to his feet.

"Accompany me, Doctor," he requested.

And, with a sigh, Bones took a few quick bites of his toast and then rose to his feet, wiping his fingers on a napkin as he trailed behind Spock. Jim paused his reading only long enough to watch them intercept Janice--

What they said couldn't be heard from across the room, but Bones's right hand found the small of Spock's back, his wedding ring glinting under the light as he waved the other about enthusiastically, and his exuberance combined with Spock's quiet intensity commanded Janice's attention quite completely. By the time she'd wormed her way free, Jim was outting the last flourishing signature on the paperwork, and he handed the PADD over to her with his most charming smile.

"Thank you, Yeoman."

"No, Captain," she said, with a smile that was far too shark-like for the sweetness of her tone. "Thank you." And then-- laughing-- she was gone.

Bones looked smug, and Spock's eyes glittered with Vulcan amusement, and suddenly, Jim was feeling much less charitable towards the man's ears.

"Gentlemen," he said suspiciously. "May I ask what price I've just paid for those five minutes?"

"You know, Yeoman Rand has a lot of friends on the ship, in all kinds of departments," Bones said, as he tucked into his remaining eggs. "Including Security."

"She's a popular woman," Jim agreed, slowly.

"Ensigns Martinez and Harper will be most grateful to hear of your interest in joining their improvisational comedy group, Captain."

Jim stared at Spock. "No."

Bones smiled. "Oh, yes."

"No!"

"His idea," Bones said, jerking his thumb at Spock.

"I was under the impression you had been looking for a method of engendering further goodwill between yourself and the crew," he said, with a perfect Vulcan poker face.

"Wouldn't do to back out on a promise now, Captain," Bones told him cheerfully. "Say, they still encourage audience participation st these things, don't they?"

"A staple of the genre, Doctor."

"My," Bones said, smiling into the horror dawning across Jim's face. "I guess I'll just have to make sure I never miss a show."

Spock hummed as he returned to his own breakfast. "I believe I shall have to miss every show, for fear that you would volunteer me for a sketch."

"Well." Bones wiped his mouth on a napkin, blue eyes twinkling. "Even so, Mr. Spock. I'll see you at lunch."

Spock bid him a pleasant morning shift, and-- with a brush of their fingertips-- Bones was gone.

"You didn't really promise Janice that I'd be doing improv comedy, did you?" Jim asked, weakly. "I'll forgive you for the implication if you simply admit--"

"No, Captain, I did not." But the way he said it...

Jim closed his eyes. "Spock. Did Dr. McCoy promise it?"

"Yes, Captain, he did."

"I know you love him, Spock, but I'd like your permission to ship him back to Earth--"

"Negative."

"He'll be happy there," Jim promised. "I'll set him up on a nice farmstead in Georgia--"

"I don't believe that the life of a farmer would especially agree with me."

"I'm not planning on sending you."

Spock raised an eyebrow, and Jim sighed, relenting. "I suppose you would follow him, wouldn't you?"

"Of course, Captain."

"Of course," Jim agreed, with a ghost of a smile breaking through his glum mood. It was nice, seeing his two best friends in love--

Even when they ganged up on him.

#a tramp stamp original #jim kirk #leonard mccoy #spock #spones #I wrote this #❤️❤️❤️ thanks for the prompt!!!

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kjack89 · 3 years

Note

E studying late in the library, R as the late-night security guard

The only sound that came from the far corner of the second floor of the library was the steady, and occasionally emphatic, clacking of laptop keys as Enjolras hunched over his laptop. He only paused to grab a sip of coffee or swipe a notification from Twitter off of his phone screen, and as the time crept past midnight, he showed no sign of slowing down.

At least, he showed no sign until, without warning, the lights turned off.

Enjolras looked up, his face lit only by his laptop screen. “Hello?” he called, but no one answered. “Is anyone there?”

Again, there was no answer, and Enjolras glanced at first the time on his phone screen and then at the document he was working on, which was no closer to being done than it had been when he had started working on it some two hours prior, and he groaned. “God damnit,” he sighed, standing up and grabbing his phone and, after only a moment of hesitation, his coffee.

He made his way to the stairs, guided by the dim glow of the exit sign. Luckily, the lights were on in the stairwell, and Enjolras made his way to the ground floor. The lights were also off on the first floor, and Enjolras scowled before catching sight of a light from an office behind the circulation desk.

Enjolras stalked over and rapped his knuckles against the desk. “Hello?” he called, peering into the office. There was a man in there, lounging in his chair, and Enjolras raised his voice. “Excuse me?” The man did not look up and Enjolras scowled in irritation before practically bellowing, “Excuse me!”

The man startled upright, blinking owlishly through the window at Enjolras before standing and making his way to the office door. “Can I help you?” he asked mildly, which caused Enjolras’s blood pressure to skyrocket.

“Someone turned the lights off,” he said stiffly.

The man raised one dark eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “On the second floor,” he said. “Someone turned the lights off.”

Leaning casually against the doorway and crossing his arms in front of his chest – Enjolras tried not to stare at how his t-shirt stretched across his chest as he did – the man then had the audacity to smile at him. “I’m sure they did.”

“Right,” Enjolras said, tearing his eyes away from the tattoo on the man’s bicep. “Only, I’m trying to get some work done and that normally requires, y’know, light.”

The man nodded. “One might think.”

Enjolras counted to five in his head to try and stop from yelling. “Are you going to turn the lights back on?”

The man tugged at the collar of his university t-shirt as he considered it. “No.”

“What?”

“No, I’m not going to turn the lights back on.”

Enjolras stared at him, his mouth hanging open, before drawing himself up to glare at him. “And why the hell not?” he demanded.

The man shrugged. “Library closed at midnight.”

Enjolras blinked. “Since when?”

“Since we’re operating under summer break hours,” the man told him, sounding far too amused, and Enjolras scowled again.

“It’s May.”

The man smiled lazily at him. “Your grasp of the calendar year notwithstanding, the semester’s over, so the library is no longer open 24/7.”

Enjolras tried very hard not to seethe. “So you’re kicking me out.”

The man shrugged again. “I mean, I’m not gonna bodily remove you from the building or something, but yeah, I am gonna ask you nicely to leave, and if you refuse, I’ll probably have to call campus security.”

Enjolras’s brow furrowed. “You’re not campus security?”

“I’m library security,” the man corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“What’s the difference?” Enjolras asked sourly.

“Slightly less fascist,” the man said cheerfully, and Enjolras almost smiled. Keyword being almost. “Also I’m a student, and mostly I’m here to make sure folks swipe their IDs when they come in and to stop folks from walking out with books they haven’t checked out.”

Enjolras cocked his head. “And what’s the punishment for that?”

“Normally me escorting them to the checkout counter so that they can check them out.”

Enjolras huffed a dry laugh. “I’m not getting the vibe that you have a lot of authority here.”

The man chuckled. “That’s because I don’t.” He hesitated before adding, “My name’s Grantaire. And you are…?”

“Not sharing my name to prevent you from sharing it with campus security,” Enjolras replied coolly.

Grantaire grinned. “That’s a mouthful, your parents must’ve really hated you.”

Enjolras smiled slightly as well. “I mean, they did, but not for that reason.”

Grantaire took a step towards him. “If I promise not to report you, will you tell me your name?”

“How about you turn the lights on the second floor back on?” Enjolras countered.

“They’re on a timer, and I don’t have the means of overriding it, so unless you want me to stand up there holding my flashlight up for you to read by…”

Enjolras smirked. “Now that is a tempting thought.”

Grantaire gave him what Enjolras imagined he thought of as a pleading look. “C’mon, tell your name. I can go through the records of ID swipes, but I’d really rather not have to take that kind of time.”

“Why do you want to know my name so badly?” Enjolras asked.

“Because I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing a lot of you this summer,” Grantaire said archly. “Besides, I like to know the name of the cute guy I’ve been flirting with for the last fifteen minutes.”

Enjolras opened his mouth to scoff, or to tell him that this wasn’t flirting, or to do any number of things to rebuff the implication, but instead, what came out was, “Enjolras.”

Grantaire blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“My name is Enjolras.”

“Enjolras,” Grantaire repeated, a slow smile crossing his face. “Wow, your parents really did hate you.”

“Almost as much as yours,” Enjolras shot back, “naming you Grantaire.”

Grantaire laughed. “Like you said, mine did too, but not because of the name.” He hesitated. “Why don’t you work down here?”

Enjolras blinked. “What?”

“I can’t turn the lights back on upstairs, and the only lights are going to be in stairwells or around emergency exits, or here, at my desk. As comfortable as I imagine studying in the stairwell would be, I’m pretty sure I can rustle up another chair for you.”

The offer took him by surprise, and Enjolras hesitated, trying to find a good reason not to and coming up short. “Are you going to watch TV all night?”

Grantaire shrugged. “Maybe. But I can put some headphones on if it’ll bother you.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you sort of need to pay attention to the security of the building?”

“Yes, because I’m sure all of the students who have gone home for the summer are planning to break into the library,” Grantaire said dryly.

Enjolras laughed lightly. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Grantaire perked up. “So is that a yes?”

Enjolras hesitated for only a moment more before jerking a nod. “Let me grab my stuff.”

Grantaire grinned. I’ll be here.”

“I’m sure you will,” Enjolras muttered, turning around to grab his things from upstairs. He knew that he should just go home, or maybe move to Starbucks or the student union, both of which he was pretty sure were still open 24/7.

But if he was being honest, he was mostly just working to have something to do while he waited for Combeferre and Courfeyrac to get back to campus. And besides, whether or not it was flirting, if Enjolras was being entirely honest, he hadn’t entirely hated the conversation he’d had with Grantaire.

Even if Grantaire was two steps away from being a fascist cop.

His mind made up, Enjolras gathering his belongings and made his way back to the circulation desk, letting himself behind the desk and joining Grantaire back in the office, where, true to his word, Grantaire had procured another chair. “Voila,” Grantaire said, grinning up at him, and Enjolras set his stuff down on the desk, glancing at the computer screen, which was paused on an advertisement.

“What are you watching?” he asked.

Grantaire glanced at the computer as if he’d completely forgotten he was watching anything. “Oh, uh, Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”

“Seriously?” Enjolras demanded.

“Yeah, well, it’s quite popular—”

Enjolras snorted. “Sure, it’s copaganda repackaged into a sitcom, what’s not to love?”

Grantaire whistled lowly. “Wow, you must be fun at parties.”

“I make it my business not to attend too many parties,” Enjolras retorted.

Grantaire looked amused. “I’m not entirely sure that’s the comeback you think it is.”

Enjolras had realized the same thing, and flushed slightly. “Seriously, though, don’t you understand what role shows like Brooklyn Nine-Nine or Law & Order or—”

“Or Chicago PD or NCIS or CSI when it was still airing,” Grantaire continued, nodding officiously.

Enjolras glared at him. “My point,” he said icily, “is that these shows have engendered in the American public a tacit complicity in the ever-expanding and increasing militarization of our police.”

Grantaire nodded. “They sure do.”

“You agree with me?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. “That surprises you?”

Enjolras shrugged. “I mean, I was expecting even boilerplate pushback about how it’s ‘just a show’ or something like that.”

“Entertainment is as much a reflection of society as it is a tool to shape it,” Grantaire said, propping his feet up on the desk. “Only an idiot would argue against that.”

“And I’m meant to believe you’re no idiot,” Enjolras said dryly. “So then are you just...ok with the militarization of our police?”

Grantaire sighed. “Of course not.”

“Ok, so you acknowledge the role shows like this play, and you are against said role, but you’re watching it anyway?”

Grantaire considered it for a moment. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he said cheerfully.

Enjolras stared at him. “But...why?”

“Because I believe you can critically engage with the media you consume while also, y’know, consuming it,” Grantaire said. “Besides, it’s funny.” Enjolras shook his head slowly but Grantaire didn’t let him speak, instead patting the seat next to him invitingly. “Look, you and I can and probably will argue about this all night, but how about you sit for it? I’m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

“Really?” Grantaire asked mildly. “I would think you of all people would be more in favor of an egalitarian seating arrangement.”

Even though Enjolras glared at him, he nonetheless sat down. “Fine,” he said stiffly. “But don’t think that this conversation is done.”

Grantaire grinned at him. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, I’ve got all night. Are you going somewhere?”

This time, Enjolras didn’t hesitate. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#Enjolras #Grantaire #Enjolras x Grantaire #exr #enjoltaire #ask #answered #hey nonny #les miserables #fanfiction #one shot #modern au #developing relationship #prompt fill #Anonymous

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rwbyvein · 3 years

Text

War of the Roses: Perturbation: Part II/II

"Lead by..." Ozpin voiced, and paused for dramatic effect, "Jaune Arc."

"Huh?" Jaune asked, "Lead by?"

* * *

Weiss looked at the podium as Professor Ozpin had called their names. Fate, it seems, could be fickle. Her heart flickered, and she was unsure if it was anticipation or longing. She breathed in deep as she approached the stage.

* * *

On one hand, the debonair chevalier who had courted her had collapsed under the weight of his own hubris, and the expectations now placed upon his shoulders. On the other, she curiously had no such expectations. She had been looked over, completely, utterly, undeniably. In favour of the young harlequinn whom seemed to have trouble counting to twenty in the presence of her overzealous boots. What had she gotten herself into? Surely, had she attended Atlas, she would have been made leader of her small team, though the thought of being both in Atlas, and a specialist brought a shudder to very core. Her eyes refocused as she found a red cloak being placed her.

"You looked cold." Ruby stated.

"I looked what?" Weiss asked, "Do you have any idea what the temperature difference is between here and Atlas?"

"Is it cold?" Ruby asked, and Weiss' eyes grew wide.

"Yes." she uttered, "Atlas is colder than Vale."

"She's saying she's fine, sis." Yang said to Ruby, and Ruby pulled off the cloak off of Weiss' shoulder. She let out a weak scoff, and then paused as the weight was lifted, literally. Exactly how heavy was her cloak?

* * *

Weiss heard the murmurs that sounded as Ruby and Jaune spoke outside their dorms, followed by Ruby loudly stating, "Nope!" in the most cheerful voice possible, followed quickly by another, "Nope." Weiss clutched her chest as she felt a momentary pertubation. She had to remind herself it was good to see her friends so enjoying themselves. Weiss looked up from her desk as that thought bore deep into her core.

* * *

His skill was improving with alarming alacrity, at least now that his involvement with Team CRDL has come to an end. His style seemed to be developing elements from his alarcitous partner. The reasons did not even require speculation. It was alarming and charming at the same time. Her chevalier was going from scorn to squire, and...

she paused as the concept of HER chevalier bore deep into her core. She paused with bated breath as she realized her compatrioate was engendering herself to him without compare. She clutched her chest as if she fear her heart would cease to beat if she were not pondering over it, so.

* * *

There, he stood, before her, having just lied to approach himself to her heart. A guitar in his hand, insincere look upon his face, and seemed to lack the very basic concepts required to partake in music. "No." she dismissiviely stated as she closed the door.

"And that's why we call you Ice Queen." Yang stated as Weiss made her way over to the window. She breathed in deep and did her best to not shudder, so embarassed by her own so-recent failure. Before she knew what was happening she found small arms about her small waist, and the effervescent warmth of her most-dear compatriot. She did not know how to react except to withhold her breath as if doing so also withheld her very being. She could do neither for very long, and oh-so-quickly she had to breathe out and lean back into the embrace. She did not have the words to describe how wonderful this was.

"Get a room, you two." Yang quiped.

Weiss huffed, and slipped out of Ruby's grasp to turn to look at her, "Need we remind you that we have a room."

"Yeah?" Yang asked, "But I'm in the room. Want me to go trade places with Jaune?" Weiss let out a terrifying scoff in reply. "Either way, I've got some energy I've got to work off. I'm going to go work out."

As Yang slipped out of the door Ruby slipped back around Weiss.

"One day." They heared Yang said from beyond the door. "You'll melt her Ice Queen heart."

This caused Weiss to let out an effervescent huff, and Ruby kissed her on the cheek. Weiss breathed in deep and reached back to gently craddle her face. "You will tell no one that we have done this."

"Does that mean you want me to let go?" Ruby asked, and Weiss said nothing, though the momentary lack of breath spoke volumes. "We both know you don't mean what you say."

Tears started to form in Weiss' eyes as she let out a whimper. "Then why do I say them?"

"Because you are afraid." Ruby said to her.

"Afraid of what?" Weiss asked.

"Jaune?" Ruby asked, and Weiss scoffed between whimpers, "Me?" Weiss sniffled a rebuff. "Then that leaves?.."

"I know very well what that leaves." Weiss sniffled, tears still falling down her face. "Just do not dare to let me go."

* * *

Ruby and Weiss cuddled into the corner as Weiss' tears finally seemed to ebb, the sniffling turning to blubbering until she finally seemed to recover. Ruby kissed her on the cheek again. Weiss' eyes flew open at the revelation at what had happened. She quickly leapt to her feet, and did her best to adjust her clothing. A look of fear appeared in her face.

Ruby quickly jumped up to her feet, "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Your reaction is more alarming." Weiss stated.

"Oh, pfft. Like I've never seen Yang cry over a boy before."

"I sincerely doubt it was because of her own reprehensible, self-destructive actions."

"Have you met Yang?" Ruby asked, "That's kind of her thing."

* * *

Weiss sat in front of the mirror as Ruby cleaned her face.

* * *

Weiss sat in front of the mirror as Ruby fixed her makeup.

* * *

Ruby put down the makeup and gave Weiss a quick kiss on the cheek.

Weiss reached up for the place she had been kissed and stared at herself for a moment. She then turned towards Ruby. "Why do you keep doing that?" she asked, and Ruby Petal Burst away up onto her bed. Weiss stood up, fixed herself in the mirror, and slowly walked over to Ruby's bed. "It was not made out of judgement. It was made out of..." she voiced, and trailed off. Ruby's eye appeared over the side of her bed, gleaming from underneath her hood.

"Of?" Ruby asked.

"A feeling I scarcely feel I have felt before."

"What's gotten into you?" Ruby asked, her face appearing from under her hood, and Weiss clutched her heart.

"A feeling forgotten that I cannot say."

"If you can't, then what makes you think I can?" Ruby asked.

"If neither of us can say, perhaps we should simply act without saying?"

* * *

Ruby and Weiss lay nude, entwinned under the blanket in Ruby's bed.

"I feel I can finally speak." Weiss stated.

"Do we have to?" Ruby whined.

"I'm afraid we do." Weiss replied, "About our good squire, and his dramatic, traumatic exploits."

"Uh?.." Ruby asked, and Weiss kissed her on the cheek.

"Jaune." Weiss simply stated. Ruby's faced turned as red as her name, and tried to look the other way if her body was not so entwinned with Weiss. "We can no longer flee from how we are feeling."

"I'm pretty good at - uh? - fleeing?" Ruby asked.

"Did you truly mean it when you said I looked like an angel?" Weiss asked.

"Well, duh, pfft." Ruby replied.

"Duh?" Weiss glibly asked. "My status as an angel is that apparent?"

"You do take really good care of yourself, and your skin is so... Weissy, and you are so beautiful. I'm nothing like..."

"Your skin is just as Weissy as mine." Weiss replied, "And you are just as beautuful."

"I am?" Ruby asked.

"You just lack confidence, something our good chevalier has developed in spades."

"Then how do we do it?" Ruby asked.

"As if I would have the foggiest idea of how to get this to work.

The two jumped as the door opened to their room. Yang walked in with Blake right behind her. "Wait?" Yang asked, as she audibly sniffed the air.

"And our lives so shortly come to an end." Weiss sarcastically said.

"I'll leave you girls..." Yang said as she turned to walk way.

"Halt." Weiss stated, causing Yang to pause in her tracks. "Now that our shame has been made so public, we need your advice"

Yang turned around, "You mean like, technique?"

"I mean with..." Weiss said, pausing to let out a great shock of breath followed by a great inhale, "Jaune."

Yang stood perfectly still as the thoughts bounced around in her head. "Do you want, like the fastest?"

"I suppose." Weiss stated.

"Give me a minute." Yang said, and turned back to the door. Blake quickly filed out. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door, and both Ruby and Weiss paused their breathing.

"You don't suppose?.." Weiss voiced.

"Jaune?!" Ruby called out.

"Can I come in?!" he shouted through the door.

"Simply close the door behind you!" Weiss shouted.

Jaune stepped in and turned to close the door before looking back over the room. "Hello?" he asked, and Weiss extended her arm from Ruby's bed.

#rwby #war of the roses #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee

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alchemabotana · 3 years

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Horoscopes for the Full Moon in Capricorn June 24th 2021

Antonina “Little Thunder” Whaples

@whaplesantonina

If you enjoy these horoscopes, please consider supporting by voting for me as Ms. Health and Fitness 2021 for Muscle & Fitness Hers Magazine. You can vote once every 24 hours for free. If I win, I am donating the proceeds to herbal medicine school scholarships. To vote: https://mshealthandfitness.com/2021/antonina

Strawberry Moon - Pen & Ink Sketch by Antonina Whaples

Horoscopes for the Full Moon in Capricorn June 24th 2021

Strawberry Moon

This lunar Opening in Capricorn June 24th 2021 is a cry of righteousness on the hilly planes of our spiritual landscapes. With this meregoat’s lunation, we will experience the inherent benefits of the systematic work we’ve done since 2018, with a special emphasis on decisions made to change personal system errors. The Gods of karma are smiling at our intentions and efforts, and rewards will be reaped by those who invest in self discovery. Our ritual work has been seen and blessed in the Summer Solstice shifts by the spirits of the Land. If you listen closely on this strawberry moon, you may just hear the call of the Cosmic tricksters as they work their mojo on the psychopomp of Earthly frustrations. When you’re feeling the pull of your natal oppositions this moon, tune into the tendons of your actions and see where the motion stems from. You may be relieved to find that the strings that once pulled your puppet are made of finer ancestral threads and your permission to be free was always there. When you check into the Cosmic Chess Board you may find something of a rubix cube has emerged in your new dimensional awarenesses. Instead of throwing yourself into the equations necessary to unlock this next level, revel in the achievements that brought you to this very moment. In a cosmic landscape where the processes of life and death have been hyper focused in our collective consciousness it feels rebellious to change the font and type settings of the ancestral notepads in our minds. Representing the waters that run deeply within the Earth, Capricorn’s fullness in the night sky will illuminate various Spirits whose presence have been well established, but not necessarily recognized. A sign of the power of mental affirmation, your thoughts and words will hold a special magic in this moment. Remember that your Guides, Spirit Animals, Power Totems, Good Medicine Ancestors, and the Spirits of the Land are excellent translators, and with Mercury about to pop out of retrograde (watch out for its shadow til June 30th), its final lesson is one of the personal spiritual variety. When what we seek is Truth & Justice, we allow our souls to attune to protective forces that help us autocorrect, fold into origami, and transcend with temperance.

Aries:

It’s no surprise that an old tune holds the secret code from that earlier recording of the master tape your memory has been searching for in the old filing system. In these moments you realize just how deep and densely tracked the highways and byways of your mental system are. You’re the original wayfinder of your own uncharted territory of the mind. This state of curiosity opens you up to spiritual healing that aligns your personal ideals and values with the actions a person desires to embody. When your actions meet your words, you tend to feel the most at home in the grander machinations of Spaceship Earth.

I’m not sure if I’m feeling funky or groovy, jazzy or bluesy? Does it jive with you? Is it feeling all right? What songs have got you buzzed on this full moon night? I’m enjoying the humour of the human experience, and I find ways to incorporate positive sources of enjoyment into my daily routine. I recognize that I can be sensitive to the frequencies I consume mentally, and I’m manifesting sources of comedic gold into my awareness. I can be my own clown, and enjoy an inside-inside joke anytime my mind decides that laughter is the best medicine. I love to laugh, and allow myself this simple pleasure in life.

Taurus:

Saturn in Aquarius square Uranus in Taurus has been creating a nuanced ping-pong table in your mind. This influence has been upon your daily life for sometime, and shall continue on through the rest of the year, with another exact square in December 2021. Accept the exactness of this T-squared engineer level measurement on the corners of your ascension blueprints. It’s ok to look at the world from your own angles, and you may be happily surprised by the moments that unfold joyously when you use your sharpness to hone the hedges of your self doubt. There’s a special magic in this moon for you, as the meregoat lights a part of the puzzle we wanted to get done anyway. This refocused energy gives you the internal resources to wait to make your next move, even though the ones you’ve planned are quite clever already, when mercury rx clears you’ll have fine tuned your intel.

I give in to the epic bonestructure of my cosmic face in the universe. I know that on these edges are where the hedgerows grow. In these sanctuaries of my boundaries, I give spaces for things I truly want to cultivate to be engendered. I find which spaceships are allowed to dock at my intergalactic port of plenty, and make sure that my shields are up when psychic frequencies intend to disrupt my qi. When I breathe, I give space to the energy around myself, and I feel permission to let go. When I let go, I allow myself to accept instructions in the forms of feelings and intuitions. I do not allow the opinions or voices of others to upset my internal compass. I feel centered and grounded and know I will continue to make positive choices and believe in myself. I choose to honor myself, and that makes me feel good.

Gemini:

You’ve been carefully funneling resources into a variety of investments. Financial and interpersonal projects and alliances deepen, although it is not a time to throw caution to the wind. Caution and planning is what has allowed you to learn to trust the ebb and flow of the cosmic money winds, and you’re trying to siphon your own renewable sources, not steal from the Gods. When you place yourself in alignment with your internal resources, you can learn to embody compassion to provide yourself when feelings of self worth or insecurities prod you to feel guilty about the ways you regenerate. Let your conscience be your guide, and allow others to do the same. The path of self acceptance is most rich for you at this juncture, and it would be wise to use the Full moon to clear the psychic debris of your aura through ritual bathing, sound healing, and aromatics.

I can sometimes turn my mirrors askance to the equations I cannot seem to readily solve. But, in doing so I lose reflections that empower me. I accept that it's time to look at some of those patterns again and see if they even deserve a place on the chalkboard of my mind. When I make space to use my memory card to run programs that make me have feelings I actually enjoy, I look into my secret box of fantasies and realize I may have already realized many of those experiences. In these moments of clarity, I hold a space for myself to enjoy what I may not have allowed myself to in the past. In this way, I take back my energy and transform myself in the present.

Cancer:

In this moon you are finally able to feel that rebound-snap! Ka-bow! sh-zing! of Mars’ exit from your cozy airbnb. You’re reminded that you should be charging premiums for your ability to stay level-headed when the Gods and Goddesses war in the Heavens, and on Earth. You enjoy a good ritual bath, but to stay out of hot waters, this crab needs a cool-down. This Capricorn Moon is just what the doctor ordered, and something about the good medicine flowing through you can’t help but seep into certain streams where the mojo is most needed. This is an excellent time for you to pause in your personal space and take a moment to feel the beauty of your domain.

My soundtrack of life is a high luxury five star bathhouse of the Spirits. I’ve been Spirited Away to lands of emotional remembrance. The roots of my ancestors have spoken to me, and I have heard their instructions. I need not fear the judgments of others, because I am a sacred part of creation. I will not allow negative voices to infiltrate my consciousness, but instead, I will choose to believe that my work has been blessed by the Cosmic Super Computer and shall continue to have its content prioritized. In this space of trust, I allow myself to turn my consciousness to what I’ve relegated as “frivolous artistic pursuits”. I find the time and space to make something just because. When I experience this energy releasing through the act of creation, I realize why it mattered in the first place.

Leo:

The grass is pretty green in your patch. Both career aspirations and spiritual wealth appear to be presenting itself to you in all new fashions. You may literally be feeling called to new ways to express yourself externally, and this exploration of your presentation to the world helps you heal. You’ve been feeling called to healing in general, feeling like it may be a good time to start a new way of moving, or to add a healing ritual to your daily experience. If you happen to use stone medicine, Turquoise will be especially healing in nature during the transit of Mars through Leo, and can be just the cooling mechanism you need to keep your Roar without the bite.

Sometimes I’m just feeling high octane. When I find the right stomping grounds to release my charge I am able to do so safely through friendly communication strategies, good topics of conversation, interesting objects within my spacial periphery, and calming colors. It’s ok to turn the volume all the way up, but when the outside world adjusts its tone to match, I can switch to a different groove. I’m in awe of my co-creative power to engage my environment and use my influence therein to bring forth collective healing experiences.

Virgo:

Something about this moon in Capricorn feels familiar to you, and perhaps it's the quiet watch you’ve held & the prayers of your heart being answered. Your physical being is finding ways to heal through your insights to your movements in daily life. As your mind/body/spirit awareness grows, you find new ways of expressing yourself. This ability to shift and transform might seem like deja vu, but it's your memories finding their way to the surface. When our minds give us abstract feelings and visions, we can move mountainous emotions safely within our systems, without harming ourselves or others. Breathe deeply and find a place to scream loudly if you need that release.

I have crossed some barren deserts, but I have not died of thirst. I am blessed with the life I have co-created in the spiritual planes of my intelligent manifestations. My awareness of the barren corners of life have given me compassionate reflective capacity and a recognition of my gifts by those whose opinions matter to me. I am enjoying the small moments of joy and call them precious to me. I forgive myself for any moments where I’ve expected too much of myself while I was grieving a loss. My heart is tender, and my spirit gentle. I wish to live in harmony with myself and others.

Libra:

This Capricorn moon you are more annoyed than usual at laundry, other people’s messes, and scapegoating. Your sensitivity to physical objects is heightened under this Full Moon and it may feel overwhelming to be in the midst of the messes others leave for you to clean up. It’s more than frustrating when you acknowledge how your time/energy has been appropriated. Instead of letting loose the fire brigade when the bridge seems to be burning, walk away from the moments today that feel like a temptation. Make sure to find objects that reflect healthy energy back to you, and sit amidst a tiny oasis of your creation, and pay no attention to chaos of the Gods. You deserve a Full Battery, and the spirits are conspiring to recharge your battery banks this lunation.

I gather strength from my service to my community. When I have been unbalanced in the past, I allow my weight to ground in all directions through the sacred communions of my own secret tabernacles of the human experience. I make new covenants with myself and the way I speak and treat myself, so that I no longer need to suffer under the weight of the past. I don’t need to feel any guilt in laying down my load, and don’t need any permission to do so. When I feel safe, I will allow those who I trust to provide the respite necessary for me to heal my visions of my life and expand into an abundant awareness of how truly loved I am for being myself, and how needed my cosmic ray of intellect is to this world.

Scorpio:

Known for your secrets and depth, you’ve been hiding like the Cosmic Sphinx between the pillars of the temple gates. You’ve been allowed to watch the clashes of the Giants unscathed, and your insight will outlast this passing phase of planetary tensions. You’ve been sending alien text messages to Neptune’s work phone, and the intel has been legit. Your attraction to Art, Color, Shape, Form, Music, and Theatre are encouraging you to make insightful investments in your own dreams. This Full Moon beckons you to create with abandon and let the waves of inspiration quench your desire for pleasure.

I feel like the whole choir singing in one unison. I weave through the soundwaves, key changes, and rhythm switch-ups as I keep time with the sacred union of celestial sounds. I am aware that the tunes of the planet herself offer me a sacred respite from the cacophony of the cosmic movements. When I ground myself into the soothing waters of my spiritual essence I define for myself how my energy is used for the goodness of my own healing.

Sagittarius:

It feels like you’ve been getting along pretty well with the planetary forces, and everyone secretly enjoys the protection that your bow provides for the tribe. You may be feeling a bit cramped in the yellow submarine of the pandemic, dare we say you could have cabin fever? The Trines, Sextiles, and satellite signals of the skies indicate that you can find a special type of relief from the feelings of squished with mandalas, botanical drawings, and spirographs. When you take the time to let your mind journey in these ways, it lets your hunter’s mind relax for the next best chance. And no worries, you’ve got plenty of chances ahead, Sagittarius.

Life is good. I do my hair toss, check my nails - baby how you doing? Hey, life is good. He’s got his eye on the sparrow and I guess that’s me? I’m playing with the chemistry... cause that’s how I be? When I look into the mirror I see a babe, a real dude of the neighborhood - my sister, mothers, daddy, and the community. I guess when I see you, I see me. And when I’m in that light in me, and you are in that light in you. There is only one of us: namaste my bissssssch

Capricorn:

This Full Moon in Capricorn you endeavour to ask outloud: “What Giant’s Bones Have We Built Ourselves Upon?” Your Full Lunation is opposing the Sun in Cancer, shining a shadow on our collective exoskeleton. This Full Moon feels like an archeological discovery when proverbial bones rattle out of the closet to give us a hoodoo prayer’s chance for self liberation. You’ve been waiting for a moment like this, and it's OK if you’re not ready to take that leap of faith. But should you choose, the moon lights up an emotional healing around the concept of “home”. You really want to know if you’re believing the right thing from one moment to the next, but keeping your head out of the secret sauce is key to giving your subconscious the space it needs right now to send out signals to the future. Soon enough you’ll be receiving confirmations of cosmic flavors right into your spiritual inbox.

I called Stephen Hawking and he called me back. My voicemail said: “Hey friend. I know this is a hard time on planet earth. I think people are doing better than they believe they are. It’s hard to be a human. I remember the constraints of the body, and I understand when you want to just fly away somewhere. I believe in you. Capricorns get a bad rap sometimes. I can see your progress, and I hope you take the time to see it too. By the way, we always have the time to say how much we matter to each other. Thanks for being, and enjoy this life, you deserve it”.

Aquarius:

There have been a lot of light bulbs going off in your spiritual laboratory. This Full Moon when the light shifts, your awareness of the dimensionality of the objects and purpose of your life is heightened. You may be experiencing some grief and loss around feelings of closeness with others. Recently you’ve been asked to hold a deep stability for the collective’s growth. Your actions haven’t gone unnoticed, and you’ve been receiving opportunities for advancement in your career. However, you are feeling uncomfortable with commitment while under a deep pressure to perform. These archetypal struggles are up for healing on the altar of the Full Moon. Your magic fairy dust works the best when you sprinkle it on yourself. You are learning the ways of Illuminated Prosperity.

My voice is a symphony of grace within a cacophony of sound. I breathe in the knowledge that my very existence is a miracle of my own embracing. I find myself at home in my surroundings and know I belong. Whoever “They” are, I know I can be myself around “Them”. I trust that my instincts are perfected beyond doubt. I’ve taken all the tests and quizzes and my insights are showing precision on whichever experiments have survived my tests of time and spirit. When I tune into my highest self it's because I’m recognizing my ability to be in that place no matter what surrounds me. Even when my circumstances deny me, I do not deny myself. I believe that I am worthy of the life I am living, and anticipate my surroundings shifting to match the unique vibrational fingerprint that I offer planet Earth.

Pisces:

You’ve been holding down some major spiritual territory during the recent seasonal shifts. The light of the meregoat acts as a lighthouse beacon for the whales and whistleblowers of your waters. You’re not particularly interested in that island, and prefer to spend this Lunation in Capricorn Gardening, Cleaning Out the Car, Writing about your art, Feeding the fairies, Calling in positivity, Releasing the Past, Testing New Grounds, and let’s just say it: looking pretty guuuuuuud while doing it. So good. You might want to tune into some whale call noises, or turn on a beachy video. The seas are definitely calling your name, and your inner explorer could watch Moana a few times through the eyes of the grandmother, the eyes of Moana, and the eyes of Te Fiti.

I am a sound rising on the waves of creation. I turn my eyes to the heavens and I’m in the medicine nation. I forgive myself for all my wavering, I know my power lies in my cravings. I can wish upon the starry skies, and watch the birds where e’er they fly. I’m curious to know the names of all the fairies, and their games. I want to know what games I’ll win when I’m laughing with a cheshire grin. I know what gods have sent me here, I know which path I’m meant to clear. And when the waters run to quickly, or the bushes get too prickly - I can lay my spirit down. My minds’a palace, my head a crown. You could call me king or queen, but my magics’still unseen. I’m so much bigger than my titles, or whichever ones I didn’t get. I’ve given all at my recitals, and I’m my own best bet.

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paragonrobits · 3 years

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A friend asked me to give a stab at a Tierlist Maker for Video Games Not Yet In the Video Game Hall of Fame Tier List Maker, so here's my list for it!

This is based primarily on what I considered to be overall value to gaming history as a whole, with games with greater influence or impact ranking higher than those that had less impact on those to follow, or on culture. All the entries are those that have been nominated to the Hall of Fame, but not actually inducted as of this post's writing. Games that I personally like are generally rated higher, though mostly because I'm more familiar with them and thus can judge their impact from a personal POV.

(Tier List explainations, below!)

SHOULD BE IN ALREADY

Final Fantasy: I mean seriously. How is this one not already in yet?? It is not, as my research suggests, the first true RPG; that likely goes to games like Ultima. It is certainly an incredibly influential one; FF is a name closely associated with JRPGs in general, and its diverse class system is one of the strongest things to do with it, as noted by challenges like beating the game with a party of Black Belts. FF is THE name of RPGs in general and I'm startled it hasn't made it in, though I suppose that's owing to more notable entries (Hard as that is to imagine). It doesn't hurt that the majority of my favorite FF titles are those most similar to this one, such as FF6 and FF9, in terms of approaching the general world setting and class systems. Most significantly is that this game popularized RPGs and made them accessible, in ways that previous games such as Dragon Warrior/Dragon Quest did not; the field of gaming would be VERY different without it; RPGs became VERY popular, to the extent of RPG elements being almost universal among other games in the modern day. (I am also pleased and amused to see 8-Bit Theater mentioned on the actual Wikipedia page. Now THAT'S notability!)

Sid Meir's Civilization: HEY NOW HALL OF FAME JUDGES, DON'T YOU BE MOCKING CIV, ALRIGHT. CIV IS FUCKING AWESOME. Okay, jokes aside, I'm genuinely astonished as the Civ series is considered the first true main game of the 4x series, and it shows; the entire genre centers around expansion, resource usage and diplomacying or conquering your enemies, and considering the impact of this game and its sheer popularity, to the extent of the meme of the game getting people to play for Just One More Turn, I'm a bit disappointed that it's not already in the hall of fame. I also note that I am personally more familiar with the spin off Alpha Centauri, a sci fi variant, which is still one of my all time favorite games.

Half-Life: Given this game's popularity, to the point of its release alone consigning the likes of Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines to cult classic status and its engine spawning a whole THING with GMod and the usage of physics mechanics in FPS games, one thing of note is its use of scripted sequences; at the time, an unknown in most games of the time. There may be something to be said for how the entire game is spent as Gordon Freeman, behind his eyes, possibly engendering a lack of separation between self and character that would be later emphasized in games like Bioshock. It's influence on games cannot be denied, with publications using it as a bookend between eras of gaming. One consistent element of what seems to make this game so distinctive is its approach to storytelling, without simply imitating film techniques which don't always work well with gameplay.

Candy Crush: This is an example of something I don't personally play myself, or even like very much, but I'd be remiss to dismiss it out of hand. There's no denial that phone games are one of, if not THE biggest market of games in the here in now; if now in scale, certainly in quantity. You might call it the TF2 Hat Economy theory; people aren't spending BIG bucks, but they are spending a LOT of little bucks all the time. It proves that highly accessible games that are generally free to play, with optional purchases, are a legitimate means of game business, and this certainly revolutionized how games were seen by the money-makers.

Super Smash Bros Melee: I loved this game as a kid, but truth be told i have a bit of a love-hate relationship; i REALLY dislike the competitive community that has fixated hard on this game, so any thoughts on it will have a slight element of pause beforehand. Even so, I can't forget the thrilled delight I felt watching the trailer for this game in supermarkets for the first time as a kid. at a time when getting any new games at all was a HUGE deal in my family. So, there is a lot of feeling behind this one! Ultimately, I have to concede that while i have complicated feelings about this game, its worth noting that the vast majority of things that made Smash iconic, and influenced the competitive scene AND the games inspired by Smash AND shaped the course of the series going forwards, largely owe themselves to Melee in particular. 64 was far more slow paced, while Melee began the trend towards much more fast paced action (and while I doubt it's SPECIFIC to melee as a whole, it may have been a trend for the genre from then). Melee is STILL widely played, especially on the competitive scene, and this sort of longevity always bears evidence of notability.

Goldeneye 007: I have to admit that despite being a kid in the 90s, despite someone who put most of their time into gaming, and despite being someone whose favorite system at the time was the Nintendo 64, I mostly missed out on the trend of history by honestly not being that much into this game. I have to say that I DID play it, however; I just never managed to get past the first level or so. I have strong memories of triyng and failing to sneak around a snowy lair of some description; it wouldn't be until the mid-2000s, playing Deus Ex Human Revolution, that I got the hang of stealth. All the same, personal indifference really doesn't matter much because HOLY SHIT THIS GAME HAS SOME STAYING POWER. IT HAS INFLUENCE, FRIENDORITOS. Perhaps chiefly, at the time it was made, consoles were not considered viable platforms for first person shooters; Goldeneye revised that notion, and created a whole revolution in multiplayer and shooter games. We would later see the ultimate consequence of this in games like Halo, which further revolutionized the whole genre. Ironically, the stealth attributes I was so bad at were part of what made the game so unique! It's one of those games that may not have aged well, by modern standards, but its import to gaming as a whole goes a long, long way.

Guitar Hero: I expect this one might be a bit hard to justify, but on its own, this game is INCREDIBLY innovative, though its not entirely the first of its kind, having mechanics based on earlier games. The very first entry has a respectable library of 30 songs, which is impressive considered at the time it was made, its not likely people expected it to get as far as it did; bear in mind that the massive libraries of later games were the result of years of this game series being a massive steamroller of a franchise! At the time, this one was an unknown. It has an interesting history as being a successor of sorts to an arcade exclusive, and inspiring a genre of imitators and spiritual successors on its own; of great note is the sheer impact this game had. With so many of those successors, the increased value of liscened soundtracks, and the way the game's concept became so influential, its astounding this one isn't already on the hall of fame. (It's also very fun, but fun alone doesn't make for memorability, sad to say.)

DESERVES IT AT SOME POINT

Myst - an iconic and incredibly atmospheric puzzle game, I'm genuinely surprised that I haven't heard talk about this one in some respect; it bears note as a rare game with absolutely no conflict whatsoever. I actually rank this one on par with the 7th Guest in terms of atmospheric games, though their tones could not be more different. So why do I think this game deserves it at some point? It was an incredibly immersive and beautiful game, lacking in genuine danger or threat, encouraging the player to explore and tackle the puzzles of the game. This sort of open-ended lack of peril makes it an interesting precursor towards certain flavors of sandbox games around now. It's worth noting that it was a tremendous achievement, given technical limitations of things such as the CD-Rom it was stored on, maintaining a consistent experience, as well as tying narrative reasons into those very constraints. It has been compared to an art film; if so, it certainly is the sort that invited imitators and proved to be a great technical achievement.

Portal: PORTAL! What can I honestly say that hasn't already been said by other people? The amazing integration of a physics engine into innovative puzzle solving, combined with a slow burn sort of minimalist plot reveal concerning the AI proving itself to be a kind of reverse HAL 9000? This game got a HUGE number of memes back in the day, and I expect anyone reading this can probably reference a few. The cake thing, certainly, and its relevance to matters of deception. There is much discussion over the game's utility in academic circles, which is certainly quite notable, and for my part, I'm interested by the point that at first the game gives you a lot of hints towards what you're supposed to do, gradually making it less obvious for the player you're on your own entirely, using your experience with the game to get past the puzzles from there, and its excellent game design. Ultimately though, I place this below Half Life in hall of fame urgency, because while I probably like this one more, it doesn't have the same impact on other games, per say. (That's a lot of awards for it, though. Wowza.)

Resident Evil: Is it fair to call this one the major survival horror game of its era? No, because it's apparently the FIRST, or at least the first to be called such. It's certainly up there with shaping the genre as a whole, both its immediate predecessors and modern games. The flavor of a survival horror can even be judged about whether its close to Resident Evil's style of defending yourself with limited resources vs controlled helplessness. It's also worth pointing out that I quite like the restricted, cramped setting of the mansion, rather than an expansive city; Biohazard was a real return to form, even if its something I mostly watched through funny lets plays because OH NO ITS TOO SCARY I CANT WATCH.

Asteroids: It's called the first major hit of the golden age of the arcade. I'm forced to say... yeah, it absolutely deserves it. The actual implementation and hardware of the game makes for interesting reading, and so its innovative nature ought to be noted: it lacked a soundchip at all, making use of handmade circuits wired to the board. It's reception was great, beating out Space Invaders and needing larger boxes just to hold all the money people spent on it. It also invented the notion of tracking initials on the top ten score, which has implications for arcade challenges.

Ms. Pac Man: This one consistently ranks HIGH in gaming records of its time, though there is admittedly some confusion to whether it or Donkey Kong was a better seller. Interestingly it appears to shape most of the gameplay mechanics people remember most for Pac-Man, such as the improved AI of the ghosts. It's more highly regarded than the original game, and on a personal note, I remember being a kid and seeing this arcade machine at ALL the laundry places my family usually wound up going to.

Frogger: It's placing on this list is not solely because CUTE FROG. The accessibility and wide appeal of the game bears a great deal of consideration, the flexibility of its formula, and just how many dang times it's been ported in one form or another. (And also, cute frog.) It also gets points for the creator being inspired for the game when he saw a frog trying to cross a road, hampered by the vehicles in the way, and he got out of his car and carried the frog across the street. The game is also evident of broad appeal, and some money-makers resisting it, goes back a long way; it was apparently dismissed as a kid's game by some, which just goes to show that some problems are older than quite a lot of gamers alive today.

Uncharted 2: this is one of those games where I cannot honestly say I have personal experience to draw from. Of the playstation's big games, I remember the Jak and Daxter series; I remember Kingdom Hearts, and I remember Ratchet and Clank, and I remember Infamous, but the Uncharted series remains

something of a 'I don't go here?' obscurity in my personal playbook. It does look memorable and charming from what I've seen, and one consistent element I've seen in comments about it is the cinematic nature of the game; it feels very much like a fun heist movie, based on what I have seen of it, and the notable thing is how the game FEELS cinematic.. in a literal way. As in, it combined elements of cinematography with game design, and that's no mean feat: what works for movies are unlikely to translate well to the interactive side, and it shows how that can be done for other games. The extensive praise does the game a LOT of credit!

WORTH NOMINATION AT LEAST

Angry Birds: As noted before, I'm not the biggest fan of most phone games, given that i prefer a more passive experience than most provide. As such, Angry Birds isn't something I've played as of this writing, but I have to appreciate the straightforward and simple gameplay; it reminds me a bit of the Burrito Bison game series, which I HAVE played, and I'm going to go out on a limb and assume it's because Angry Birds is probably the innovation that coined that particular style of gameplay. It's an example of what made phone games profitable and worth the time of developers to work at them; its easy for casual players to get into, and there's a fun sort of impact involved. Given the popularity of phone games, this one has a LOT of influence in getting that rolling, similar to candy crush, if not as much.

FIFA International Soccer: Simulation games are a tricky business; it can be really difficult to get them right, and this game provides an example of it being done in a way that a lot of people REALLY loved, set up an entire game series, and revived the 3DO system after a very bad year. Of note, apparently it was commented that it was more of a simulator than a console game, and this is rather funny considering how simulator is its own genre nowadays! Such do things change. It seems to have been a revolutionary game and simulation; setting the shape for modern sport games of its type, and tending more towards realism (accounting for acceptable breaks in reality) than was typical of the time. This one's position is thus picked for its impact as a whole; while it may not necessarily be a household name now, the series continues on, and is popular enough that even after 20 years, it's still been going.

Elite: I nominate this game in this position for being a startlingly early entry into what we would now consider open-ended games, even with an element of exploration and trading; if one stretches definitions a bit, a precursor towards gameplay of the like scene in 4X players who strive to avoid conflict, if possible. Its technical breakthroughs are some very interesting reading and make for good game history; a vast and complex game (not just by the standards of the era, either), and opening the door for persistent world games such as World of Warcraft.

Wii Sports: A significant game, and much as how other titles mentioned above were famed for gateway entries into gaming for an unfamiliar audience, or those that would want o play on a more casual basis. It seems notable to me for being most suited as a family game, or a more casual experience of multiplayer than usually associated with games like this; this has greatly influenced Nintendo's design philosophy, and one can see elements of this all the way through the Wii U onwards. It's essentially a fliparound from Mario Party; less competitiveness, but definitely meant as a group thing. Controversy is evident, because like with Mario Party, injuries did result from it.

Call of Duty: I place this one here because, while it DOES hold a very significant role in gaming history, with countless imitators, spiritual successors, being a game-changer in ways that its modern reputation might surprise you with, ultimately it is less so than other games such as Goldeneye, Halo or Half-Life. It's development in AI pathfinding and tactics is incredibly noteworthy from a mechanical perpsective, and the sheer level of awards it won is notable. In the end this game's popularity and continuing influence means that it shouldn't be overlooked.

Metroid: You can't spell 'Metroidvania' without this game! A relatively open ended exploration-based game with further options opening as new tools were found give it an interesting vibe, and the oppressive atmosphere distinctive to the game says great things about its sound and level designs. It wasn't the first open world game, or explorer, or even the first to open new aereas based on equipment, but it had ALL of these elements in a very memorable package. (Samus Aran as a female protagonist is something I'm a bit reluctant to give it credit for, as her identity was obfuscated for most of the game, and only revealed in a fanservicey way in a secret ending. All the same, credit where it is due, I suppose!) It's music seems to endure as a mood setter, too!

Pole Position: Perhaps not the FIRST racing game, but still considered one of the most important from the golden age of gaming, and the one to codify many of the firm rules of the game series. It's three dimensional gameplay is incredibly innovative for its time, and having played it and games like it in the past, I'm struck by how smooth the whole thing feels. No wonder it was popular! It is notable for having been designed specifically as a 3d Experience, meant to execute techniques like real drivers might attempt, which makes it a different sort of beast in that it tried to do more realistic actions; in some ways, a precursor to modern trends of realism in many games, for ill or best. Ultimately I think this one is worth a nomination because of its influence towards racing games (a popular and long lived genre, to say the least) as a whole.

OUTSIDE CHANCE

Nurburgring 1: On the one hand, I feel a bit guilty putting this one so low; it is recognized as likely being the earliest racing game in history, and given that I just finished noting Pole Position's influence, it feels a bit mean to rate this one as relatively insignificant all the same. However, in terms of notability, I never even heard of this one, and it was tricky finding information about it. Accordingly, that may say something about its influence, though this position DOES make it noteworthy as the first of its kind, albeit with Pole Position refining and introducing elements that shaped the genre.

Dance Dance Revolution: It feels a bit strange, putting this one fairly low. This thing was a MONSTER back in the day; entire arcades were built around the dancing control peripherals it required, rhythm based games or mechanics specifically invoked it by name, and it was an absolute cultural touchstone for years and years. So, why place it low? Partly, its because I can't just shove EVERYTHING into the 'deserves a nomination' folder; I do think it's fairly reasonable for this one to at some point get a nomination in the future, though ultimately there's games more noteworthy on the whole. It's specific rhythm qualities continue outside of its genre, and are quite influential to gaming as a whole, though unfortunately the series seems to have lost something in notability over time; popularity is a factor, but so is the impact on other games.

NBA 2K and NBA Jam: I put these two together because they touch on similar touchstones for me, and they really did popularize basketball games back in the day. Jam in particular seems to be invoking the Big Head mode that were a big thing in games at the time, at least going from the screenshot. They were very popular and highly beloved games back in the day, though I don't know if they have much influence on later games. I note that interestingly, they take opposite approaches; 2k focuses on AI and realistic experiences, while Jam was deliberately less realistic and more actiony in its over the top gameplay.

Nokia Snake: This one really impresses me for the sheer number of releases, in various forms, it's had! Interestingly, there seems to be little consensus on the name of this game; most just call it Snake or something on that theme. I went with Nokia Snake because... mostly, it sounds funny, and that's how its done on the list. This one is fairly low, but I Have to give it credit for having hundreds of releases!

Farmville: My mom liked Facebook games, a lot. And I am certain this one was one of her main ones! I rate it fairly low, and no doubt her spirit is yelling imprecations at me across the void of time, space, and abandoned socks; all the same, this one is ranked low because of the sheer number of displeasure aimed this one's way. (And to be fair, she complained about it. A LOT.) It is thus notable for unusually negative reasons; an example of exploitation, pressuring players to pester their friends to play it in an equivalent to electronic chain mail, and microtranscations.

Tron: I'm inclined to give any game that takes place in a computer land and uses programming or mechanical terminology a free pass! Interestingly, this has some association with the Snake game, as they have similar gameplay and Snake games are sometimes called Light Cylce games, after this one. It has an interesting history; the graphical system was chosen largely because it was believed it was more likely to be achieved before the deadline.

NO BUSINESS IN THE HALL OF FAME

Mattel Football: I do feel a little mean putting anything in this category; firstly because I don't want to make actual fans of something sad, and secondly because I believe you can probably find notability anywhere you look, if you are inclined. And here is the chief difficulty with this one: I could not find any real information in this one. It has no Wikipedia page, a google search only led to undescriptive links of SALES for the game, but not any information on the game itself. Notability is my main resource for sorting these entries, and honestly? If google has nothing on you, that's a pretty poor sign. Sorry, Mattel Football, but you look like a poor man's Game And Watch. You're no Portal, Myst or Pole Position.

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