#edit: going back to this i might make it match my ask boxs title thing and make it

[stanfords-huswife]

what program/app do u use to draw??

I usually switch between procreate (my last posts have been that one) and ibis paint. Also sometimes that sketch app.

[daycourtofficial]

Gift Exchange

Summary: you and Azriel exchange solstice gifts in private, amazed at the thoughtfulness of each other’s gifts.

Author’s note: this is PURE FLUFF okay you could make stuffed animals out of this

At the end of the night, after everyone else went to bed, you went back up to your room to grab your gift for Azriel. You met him in the hallway between your rooms and invited him into yours.

You had asked if you could exchange gifts privately - citing the fact that Cassian would be very upset at the gift you got for Azriel and that the last thing you need this Solstice is another one of Cassian’s gift-related tantrums.

You hand Azriel the thick envelope, allowing him to pull out the contents. He analyzes the papers, then looks at you quizzically, “it’s blank parchment.”

You place your hand on the paper saying, “I am a nosy busybody” and when you pull your hand away, Azriel watches as ink begins staining the paper, creating a map of the house of wind. The map has all of the floors, even the floors in the library. All of the rooms are labelled, and looking he sees names on the map that are moving.

“You once told me that you hated going on missions because you didn’t know what was happening back at home, so I created an enchanted map for you to see. It shows all of us in real time - see here we are in my room.”

He looks at where you’re pointing and sees both of your names, except yours has a little heart next to it.

He’s shocked for words - this is the most thought out gift he had ever received. The amount of time it must have taken for you to create this is making his head spin. Not to mention when he told you he hated being gone, he was mainly thinking of you and being afraid something was happening to you.

“Um I also made two other maps - one for the townhouse and one for Feyre and Rhys’s new home. I know you usually leave some shadows behind to watch over us when you’re gone, so I figured this way you could have extra peace of mind that we’re okay.”

He can hear the nerves in your voice and he’s not going to correct you that he only leaves shadows behind to watch over you. He leaves one or two to watch over the houses, but he leaves about 5 or 6 who watch over you the entire time he’s gone. He had no idea you even realized he did that.

He looks into your eyes, watching you ramble before telling you, “this is the best gift I’ve ever received”. You beam with pride at this news - thrilled that he likes your gift so much.

“Honestly,” he continues, “this makes my gift look like rubbish.”

You shake your head. “No way, I’m sure I’ll love whatever you got for me.”

He had two boxes for you to open - the first one was a rare, first edition of a book that you adore. “This book must be over a thousand years old!” You exclaim, amazed the book is in such good condition. “I believe it only had one owner during it’s lifetime. Open it to the title page,” he tells you, grinning at your excitement.

“And it’s signed!” You exclaim, pure joy radiating off of you. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You exclaim, embracing him so tightly Azriel thinks you might kill him. There are worse ways to go, he thinks.

“You have one more to open,” he coughs, a nervous energy taking over him. You take the smaller box from him, removing the lid. Inside is a beautiful cobalt blue gem necklace and matching earrings. You’re stunned by how beautiful they are, even letting out a soft ‘wow’. You pull the necklace out of the box, and you realize the necklace is the same color has his siphons.

“How did you find something that matched your siphons so perfectly?” You ask, not taking your eyes off the necklace. “I didn’t,” he replies, and you realize then that he had parts of his siphon turned into the jewelry you’re wearing. You look into his eyes, about to ask him for more, but he speaks before you can.

“I uh, figured since you carry my heart everywhere with you, you might as well display it.” Your brain must be short-circuiting, because surely you misheard him. “I love you, and I uh hope that you might feel the same and want to carry me with you everywhere you go.”

You’re not sure what to say, you keep looking between his lips and his eyes and the necklace, when you figure out what to do. You turn around, handing him the necklace, sweeping your hair to the side. A gentle request: put your mark on me.

Azriel takes the necklace in his hands, guiding the chain around your neck, clasping it into place. Once secured, you turn around, and lunge for him, wrapping your hands around his neck and jaw, holding him in place, you press everything into the kiss. Every desire, every laugh between you two, every moment. He kisses you back just as fiercely, sliding his hands down to your thighs, prompting you to jump into his arms, wrapping your thighs around his waist.

You break away from the kiss to catch a breath. “Happy solstice,” you tell him, as he kisses down your neck. “I think you have one last present to unwrap!” You can feel him laugh into your neck as you bring his head back up to kiss him some more.

[emptymanuscript]

While it is almost certainly a FAKE, I think it's much more interesting to talk about HOW to figure out it does not exist.

One of the easiest ways to check on a movie is IMDB. Most movies you are going to run into are on there.

It's extremely easy to simply plug in a title and see what comes up. Simulacrum yields:

The only film in this list that is not identified as a short or podcast is the horror film produced, directed, edited, and starring Jeff Blank, so that's probably not it.

And you rarely get shorts alone on a video tape. So if it is a real film, it's unlisted or listed under a different name.

However, it isn't just movies on IMDB. You can look up every piece of information on that box.

On the back I can see SFX team behind Aliens and the writer of Tron. On the front I can make out the names of Actress Sophie Ward, Music by Stephen Parsons (or possibly Barsons), Scott Atkins, and Jeff Griffith.

You can look up all those names on IMDB as well.

There are several Sophie Wards but not all of them are actresses which means they're the wrong Sophie Wards because only the movie stars get that kind of top line. Note also the dates of work.

Looking through their pages, there's no projects suggestive of this one.

If you go through the notes, someone scanned the barcode on the picture. Which I tried but couldn't manage. So I tried the number under the barcode in several databases and didn't find anything in there either. But assuming they know better sites than I do (I won't link to what I used since I didn't get a return), they found:

Note the similarities and differences. This says that some of the elements are correct for sure but that some of the elements may not be original. It's almost but not quite a match. So that's something to watch for. But I note TRON and 'TRON' was also on Simulacrum. The use of apostrophe might be due to it being Turkish but is another suspicion raised.

So let's look at Tron. IMDB lists two writers for Tron.

Steven Lisberger and Bonnie MacBird. Lisberger has nothing that could possibly be Simulacrum. He's mostly Tron. The other two are an animal thing and Hot Pursuit, an 80's sex comedy. So, definitely no. MacBird is also mostly Tron except for a TV movie called Squeakers. So, also, a definite no.

There's a lot of negatives coming up. By the time I get three, my assumption is a fake.

But let's try one more thing. Terminator meets Twin Peaks. That's catchy, memorable, I wonder if that might yield a hit. And what I notice immediately is that there are no results off Tumblr. Everything I'm hitting is a reference back to this cover. That's a really good indication that it doesn't exist outside of Tumblr. Even one of the two unrelated things listing "Terminator meets Twin Peaks" that isn't about this particular thing is a tumblr page. The only non tumblr, non comment about this particular picture is a facebook post (in Finnish according to google translate) which says some of the music that was made was like that.

That's it.

That's a lot of dead ends. I could keep going on to look through the people who worked on the special effects but at this point, it's wise to ask what evidence there is that the movie is real at all?

It comes from ebay, bought based on the description instead of a pre-existing memory, because it sounded cool. There's not a tape of it - the tape in the box was a different movie. Just this cover with the description in one language and the review quotes in another. Someone in the notes thinks they might maybe remember something like it.

That's it.

So now there's quite a bit to say, no, this isn't real, and next to nothing saying it is real. So the balance of probability is that it's a fake.

So, why go through all this?

Because this is what you can do next time you hit something like this. If you aren't sure if something is real, this is how to get a pretty good bead on the facts for yourself. We can have every piece of information at your fingertips but you have to work with it.

The basics are:

List what you need to know (the goal) - in this case, is Simulacrum a real film or a fake.

List what you know - in this case title, actress, writer, musician, producer, vague era of release, bar code, etc. What the packaging looks like. How the artifact was found. That the tape was a different movie. Etc.

List what you don't know - I don't know if these people made a movie like this. I don't know if it could have been released under another title. I don't know if I got scammed. I don't know if it was an error on the part of the seller. Etc.

List ways you could find out what you don't know - Go check the the credits in IMDB. Try looking up the barcode on google. See if anyone else has the same problem. Contact the ebay seller about it. etc.

Accept that the more information you have, even if you can't have perfect knoweldge, the more likely the outcome of your search reflects ultimate reality.

You absolutely can find all this stuff by yourself. It isn't magic. It's problem solving: What do I need? What do I have to help me meet that need? What do I have in the way of that need? What can I do in order to bridge the gap between all that? That's it. That's all. And the more you do it, the easier it will get.

Real 90s sci-fi, or the next Goncharov?

I bought this movie on ebay, but the VHS tape inside is a different film. The movie on the cover sounds really cool: "Terminator meets Twin Peaks". But the description on the back cover is in Turkish, I think (!) Does 'Simulacrum' actually exist? It's weird dystopian sci-fi with two female leads, and would have been made in the late-80s/early-90s.

[skzsauce01]

The Student Council President Reads Shoujo Manga?!

Synopsis: You discover that the student council president, who claims to hate romance, reads shoujo manga. Slight influence from Kaguya-Sama: Love Is War.

Warning: none

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: fem student council vice president!reader x student council president!Hyunjin

After forgetting your textbook in the classroom, you expect to be the last person to arrive to the student council room, but it appears that you’re actually the second.

“Vice President, you left your manga here last night,” Secretary Kim greets. He glances at you momentarily before returning to his paperwork.

You shut the door behind you. “My manga? I don’t remember— Oh.”

Sitting on the mahogany desk is a tote bag that you recognize is the president’s. You loaned President Hwang the first five volumes of The Life of A Dragon and Its Rider two weeks ago. When you peer inside the bag, you find that he forgot to take off his manga protectors. You keep telling him that he doesn’t need to take such a precaution since you trust him, but he always does so anyway. Even your old battered copies are wrapped in plastic.

You take the topmost one and hold it to the light streaming through the window. Not even the outline of the title can be seen. You voiced your confusion at his choice of using opaque protectors before; how would he be able to differentiate between different volumes or different mangas? His answer made you laugh: it was how he got away with reading during class. The image of the student council president doing such an illicit thing seemed ridiculous, and he pushed his hair back in embarrassment as he recounted the time the teacher almost caught him. Then you stopped laughing and wondered what the symptoms of a heart attack were. Your rib cage felt like it was going to smash open.

Now as you peel off the protector, the same feeling returns. The corner of Dragon Rider is blue and purple, not dark red. Did he spill something? No, none of the pages are wrinkled with water damage, and he would never be so careless so what exactly—

“Oh my goodness!”

Secretary Kim, pen twirling in his hand, looks at you curiously. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes!” you squeak out, hiding out the manga behind your back. “I just… I just… it’s nothing! Everything is okay!”

“Alright then.”

While he goes back to his papers, you hurriedly turn around and check the book. It’s the same as it was a few seconds ago. Instead of a fearsome dragon and its hardworking rider on the cover, there is a teenage girl flanked by two boys with wolf ears. The title reads Tsukiko of the Wolves. You flip through, discovering with both amusement and disbelief that it’s a shoujo manga. There is nothing wrong with reading shoujo — you’ve read a fair share yourself when you were younger — but President Hwang is the least likely person you would expect to have a secret love for them. You regularly loan him your shounens to read, and he eagerly discusses each volume with you. He frequently complains about the romance, saying he’s reading it for the adventure, not for the love triangles.

This has to be a mistake. He has a younger sister who you’ve seen at the bookstore occasionally. It’s possible that they share a bookshelf and that he accidentally grabbed hers on accident. You put the protector back on, set it aside, and reach for the next book on the stack.

You have no real idea if it’s another shoujo or not, but NecRomancer sounds like one. The summary on the back describes a girl panicking about her newfound powers of resurrection and the attractive man she just brought back to life. You open to the middle of the manga and let out a squeak when you see the naked corpse on the page. It’s just another accident, it has to be. President Hwang is close with his sister, so it’s only natural that his manga would be close to hers. You try the next book in the stack, hoping that it’s one of yours.

The corner reveals a dark red cover, and you hold your breath, keeping an eye on Secretary Kim. He is still preoccupied with his work, muttering sentences and scribbling things down. You fully peel back the protector, and Why Do I Not Remember You? is written across the cover in glitter. Could this be his sister’s bag? No, she doesn’t use protectors.

You mindlessly thumb through the pages, seeing but not really seeing the crying woman being comforted by a stranger. Then at the flashbacks of broken beer bottles and a ring. The chances of this being a mistake are lessening. Once is a coincidence, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern. Does this mean that…

The student council president reads shoujo manga?

You quickly replace the protector. Your heart pounds, and possibilities swim in front of you. At the very best, he will be mortified if he knows that you found out. At the very worst, the entire school will find out. President Hwang’s reputation will be tainted, and with the upcoming reelections, his reputation is of the utmost importance. If he’s not president, you might still be vice president, but what’s the point then? It’ll be no fun without him.

No one can find out about this.

Suddenly the double doors to the student council room burst open, and you drop Why Do I Not Remember You? onto the desk. President Hwang slouches in the doorframe, resting his hands on the handles, completely out of breath. A Blueprint Books bag hangs in his grasp. That must be the one containing your manga.

He looks up from the floor, and you realize you are directly in his line of sight. Your hands fly to the ribbon around your neck, and you begin to untie and retie it.

“President, are you alright?” you distantly hear Secretary Kim ask. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I’m alright.” President Hwang’s voice comes out strained as he notices you standing behind his desk, three books out in the open. “Vice President, I see you discovered the manga as expected.”

“I was just counting to make sure I got all five back,” you reply with a fake smile. He can’t know that you know because he will never speak to you again out of embarrassment. “You left the protectors on, by the way.”

He walks toward you. You are the perfect picture of innocence. He will not know. “Did you… check them?”

“No, I was in the middle of counting them. Why?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, but you can hear the relief. “I left the wrong bag for you last night. Working late must be getting to me, haha. Here you go. The Life of A Dragon and Its Rider.”

You peek inside, and sure enough, the volumes are there with no opaque protector to obscure the title on the spine. You clutch the bag in front of you like you can use it to hide the truth you have just uncovered. President Hwang stacks his shoujo manga back into his bag and tucks it underneath the desk. His face has gone pink, and he fans himself with the latest edition of the school newspaper.

“What did you think of it?” you ask to distract him. “Isn’t the artwork amazing?”

Mission successful. President Hwang’s eyes go glassy as he recalls the story in his head, and he stops his fanning. “It is. And the worldbuilding too! The academy is so different from the usual school settings, and the dragon breeds are so cool. Also, Hirajima is such a tsundere. He’s going to end up falling in love with Kimi, isn’t he? Ugh.”

“I won’t spoil it for you,” you cryptically reply. The president is holding tightly onto his facade, which you need him to do. “I’ll lend you the next five volumes tomorrow. Just wait until you get to the tournament arc. You’re going to love it.”

He groans and leans back into his chair. “Was that sarcasm?”

“No! Tournament arc is always the best arc! That’s why Feast of the Gods is so popular. Every arc is pretty much a tournament arc.”

President Hwang lights up even more at the mention of the fantasy cooking-themed manga. He borrowed it from you last month and loved it so much that he bought matching keychains for the entire council. “Secretary Kim is the bird's milk, Treasurer Lee is the silkworm flour, you’re the delphinium rose syrup, and I’m the volcanic pepper,” he explained.

“Why are you the pepper?” Treasurer Lee complained. “You can’t even handle spice.”

“Because I’m hot.”

While both the secretary and treasurer cackled and while the president grew increasingly embarrassed by his own claims, you did your best to focus on your new keychain and not him. He looked too attractive loosening his tie and running his fingers through his hair. He looked like a manga character come to life.

President Hwang’s comment snaps you out of your daydream. “The ending is good! I can’t believe that Ryuzaki actually—”

“Shouldn’t you two be working?” interrupts Secretary Kim’s flat voice. He peers at the two of you over his glasses and flicks his eyes towards the suggestion box he must have brought in earlier. “Especially with reelections coming up soon.”

“We’ll talk later,” President Hwang whispers to you. “I want to discuss my theory about Kimi and Bando with you.”

“Yeah, of course. Let’s go through the suggestions now before Secretary Kim gets mad.”

You walk over to the door and grab the suggestion box. It’s heavier than expected, and you hold it flush against your chest to keep it from slipping out of your grasp. President Hwang notices your struggling and meets you halfway. He nearly makes you drop it as his fingers brush yours while he takes it from you.

“Thanks,” you stammer out. Your hands are empty, so you toy with your ribbon again as you follow him back to the desk.

“No problem,” he says. He lifts open the lid and takes out the first paper on top. “Shin Ryujin is asking for more funding for the Tennis Club again. Speaking of tennis, have you seen the animations for Bleeding Heart? It’s so good.”

Though Bleeding Heart starts off like a shoujo, it devolves into a mystery. If it weren’t for the knowledge you have now, you would have teased President Hwang for watching it. Instead, you enthusiastically nod. “They play croquet, not tennis, but yes! They’re so smooth!”

“President, Vice President.”

You and President Hwang exchange sheepish smiles. He softly sighs and scans through the paper, playing with a lock of hair. You imagine him doing the same as he reads. Why is the image of him secretly reading shoujo manga so charming? You shouldn’t find it so when he has this much at stake. He needs to be reelected.

“What do you think?” he asks, pointing at a proposal that you should have been reading with him, interrupting your thoughts. He edges closer to you, and breathing is suddenly difficult. He smells like laundry detergent. “Are new uniforms justifiable?”

“Yes, I think so,” you choke out. “Excuse me for a minute.”

You practically run out of the student council room, stopping only when you reach a small alcove in the hall. It’s dim and quiet, and you can hear your heart trying to break out. You press your hand over it, trying to push it back inside. Heart attacks don’t feel like this, or so says the medical website you consulted. Your heart thunders against your wrist, and its beat perfectly matches your pulse.

Steady.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

It eventually slows, and you return back to the room with more composure than you had earlier. Treasurer Lee has finally shown up, and you decide to help him with calculations instead of reviewing proposals with President Hwang. It’s better this way.

During the weekend, you head to Blueprint Books and wander down the aisles, trying to find the manga President Hwang reads. You know what he likes for shounens, so what is it for shoujos? You mindlessly swing your tote bag back and forth as you scan the shelves. He Doesn’t Know My Secret, Steampunked!, Squirrel Princess. It’s been some time since you visited this section of the store. As you look to the next shelf, you notice a familiar keychain hanging from someone’s pocket. When you do a double-take, to your surprise and horror, President Hwang is standing at the end of the aisle. He looks different when out of uniform. Good different.

Maybe you made a noise of some sort because before you can turn around and leave, he glances up from the book he holds. His eyes meet yours.

Disbelief. Confusion. Panic.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he shakily asks as he slides the manga back into place. He’s mostly calm, that’s good. If he can lie to you about it, surely the entire school will be a simple feat. “Is there a new release?”

You shake your head. “Just browsing. Are you buying something for your sister? I know you don’t like romance that much.”

The relief in his voice is palpable when he says, “Yeah. Do you have any recommendations?”

“What does she like?”

“What do you like? You read a lot of manga.”

The question makes you pause, and you recount all the conversations you’ve overheard during lunch. Shounens are more of your thing now, but you're not above shoujos. “I’ve heard good things about Best Friend Boyfriend and I Wouldn’t Change A Thing.”

“Have you read them?”

“Not yet, but I always hear people talking about them.” You shift from foot to foot. A change of subject is much needed. “How’s the campaign going?”

“It’s going well, I think. Yeji and her friends are asking everyone in their year to vote for me, so that’s cool. The Japanese Culture Club is apparently doing the same,” he answers. He thumbs his pepper keychain, and you instinctively reach for your complementing one. The tiny syrup bottle is cool on your skin. “What about you? You’re still going to be my vice president, right?”

‘My’ makes you warm. “Of course! Just worry about yourself. Han Jisung really wants your spot.”

“I’m not letting that happen. Trust me, on Friday, the principal’s going to announce me as president again. And you’re going to be vice president. Secretary Kim and Treasurer Lee are going to be there as well. We’re going to be the student council until graduation.”

He says it with so much determination, you can’t help but laugh. “I really hope so. Hey, I’ll bring you the next five volumes of Dragon Rider on Monday. Just give me six through ten whenever you’re done.”

“Thanks. Do you want to borrow one of—”

“There you are!” President Hwang’s younger sister bounds into the aisle with a shopping basket filled with stationery. She furrows her eyebrows when she notices exactly which aisle her brother is in. “Don’t you have enough al—”

“I’m going to be late for dinner!” you interject. You step backwards, nearly bumping into the cardboard cutout of a manga character. “See you in class, President. Have a nice day. Bye.”

As you speed walk in the opposite direction, you hear his sister quietly ask him, “Wait, was that the vice president?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

You don’t hear if President Hwang replies anything because once you’ve turned the corner, you sprint out of the bookstore. It’s not until you’re home that you realize that you never found out what kind of shoujos he enjoys.

The days leading up to Friday are fraught with worry. Han Jisung is campaigning hard for the position this year. His small band of dedicated followers pass out flyers at the school gate every morning and trade lollipops for votes. Despite that, the president is unbothered.

“Did you watch the new episode of 00 Daniel?” he asks you on Wednesday.

You place your shoes inside your locker and shut the door. “Today’s the last day of voting, and you’re concerned about that?”

“I think the mission’s going to go badly this time. It’s been like five missions since his last screw up,” he continues like you said nothing. “There’s no way the season is ending without setting up for the next one.”

“President.”

“He’s not going to win, I promise. Treasurer Lee took a survey a few days ago, and I’m in the lead. The Mathematics Club’s survey confirmed the same thing.”

You start heading to your class with a resigned sigh, and President Hwang follows you even though he’s in a different room. He tugs on the sleeve of your blazer.

“You have nothing to worry about, Vice President,” he reassures. He lowers his head down to meet you at eye level. “It’s you and me until graduation, okay?”

You quickly nod and try not to burst into flames right on the spot. He’s too close yet not close enough.

“I think you’re right about 00 Daniel,” you stutter. “They���re taking too long to find the target too. I’ll see you after school then. Class is going to start soon.”

He retracts himself, a bit disappointed that you don’t want to speculate now. “Okay, we can talk later. See you.”

“See you.”

You two head to your respective classrooms. As you slide into your chair, you notice the boy next to you has a red candy wrapper on his desk. The girl in front of him has a purple one.

You really hope the Mathematics Club is right.

When Friday arrives, your stomach is in knots, and you feel ready to pass out at a moment’s notice. The traffic lights are slow today, making your usual stroll to school longer than usual. Students your age all the way down to elementary, pass you by, laughing and chatting with their friends. How can they be so relaxed when the results of the election come out this morning? You bet the paper announcement is already tacked to the bulletin board at the front of the school.

“Good morning,” comes a familiar voice.

“Good morning,” you reply back. President Hwang easily falls into step with you and holds out a tote bag to you. “Oh, you finished all of them?”

“Yeah. That last battle was crazy! I can’t believe it ended like that. And the epilogue! I knew it would happen! I feel so bad for Bando and… You okay? You look a little sick.”

“It’s nothing.” You take the bag from him and hold the books to your chest. You peek inside to make sure the protectors are off and to check that he gave you the right bag. No shoujo manga this time. “Are you nervous?”

He’s surprisingly apprehensive when he asks, “About what?”

“The election?”

“Oh. No, not really. Are you?”

“A little bit,” you lie as the two of you walk through the gate. The bulletin board is surrounded by a crowd, and you’re ready to march through to see what the paper says. Please let President Hwang be on there. “Let’s go.”

But the president is soon stopped by Han Jisung and his followers. Han Jisung holds his hand out, and you hold your breath as he opens his mouth.

“Congratulations on winning, President,” he says with a good-natured smile. He shifts his gaze to you. “And you as well, Vice President.”

You let out an audible sigh and quickly cover it with a cough when everyone looks at you. “Thank you.”

President Hwang shoots you a knowing grin, making you blush, before exchanging pleasantries with his defeated opponent. In the meantime, you push through the crowd to double-check the results. There it is in black ink: Hwang Hyunjin as President. Relief floods through your body, and you happily accept the other students’ congratulations and swap theories about the upcoming season of 00 Daniel with your fellow manga and anime fans.

“Told you,” President Hwang later says after he manages to get away from Han Jisung. He shuts your locker door with one finger. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Hey, are you going home now?” President Hwang asks. With no changes in the student council, everything is business as usual, including Secretary Kim and Treasurer Lee leaving as soon as they can on Fridays.

“Yeah. Are you staying late again?”

“Not today. Want to walk home together?”

“S-sure.”

While he reorganizes the papers on his desk, you fiddle with the strap of the tote bag. It’s not the first time you’ve walked home with the president, but it sends you into a panic every time. The golden sun and orange sky makes everyone look beautiful but him especially so. It’s difficult not to be tongue tied around him when he looks exactly like the lead of a shoujo manga.

Manga. The thing that accelerated your feelings for him in the first place. His good looks and his sweet talking charm were enough for you to notice him, so learning he shared the same hobby as you? Discovering that he adored coming up with theories?

You were smitten.

“You ready?” he interrupts.

“Yeah.”

The two of you make it to the front entrance before he stops and turns to you. “Actually, before we go, can I show you something first? It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Sure. What is it?” You follow him through the school, taking note that he seems to be headed to the courtyard.

“Have you read Limitless?”

As you step over a pile of fallen cherry blossoms, you rack your brain. You read it a long time ago, mostly because it was on every recommendation list online. “The shoujo about the math tutors? It’s been some time, but yes. What about it?”

President Hwang stops in the middle of the courtyard and faces you again. The sun is behind him, the rays of light forming a crown on his head. “Well, there’s a scene near the end that I thought you might like.”

The end of Limitless…

… features a confession scene in the school courtyard.

He gently takes your hands. “Do you remember the first day we were elected? I was the first person in the room, and I was so nervous to meet you because I didn’t know that much about you. Secretary Kim and Treasurer Lee said you were really kind, but I was still nervous. Then you ran into the room with a bunch of manga and almost tripped over the rug. You laughed it off and held out a book for me to shake since your hands were full.”

“It was the first volume of Feast of the Gods,” you whisper. That day is burned in your mind. “Lee Chaeryeong just finished the first ten volumes and gave them back to me.”

“And then I asked you if I could borrow them because I wanted to read them but Blueprint was out of stock. You said yes immediately, and that’s when I knew that you and I would be a great team. When you wanted to listen to me talk about the chapters I read, that’s when I knew I liked you. And when you continued to offer me other series to borrow, that’s when I knew I had to tell you. So,” he breathes, “here it is. I like you, and I want to be with you.”

“I… I like you too.”

He breaks out into a grin and wraps you in a hug. He still smells like laundry detergent, and you bury your nose in the collar of his shirt.

“What do we do now?” he softly laughs as he pulls away. “The shoujo mangas usually stop here and cut to a new scene.”

The words fly out of your mouth without thinking. “So is that why you’ve been reading shoujos? For the confession?”

His smile falters but recovers soon after. “Yeji gave it away last weekend, huh? Ah, I was hoping you hadn’t heard her.”

“Actually… I found out when you gave me back Dragon Rider the first time,” you admit. You twirl the ends of the ribbon around your neck. “I took off the protectors and saw some of them. But there’s nothing wrong with liking shoujo! I was just surprised since you always say you hate romance.”

“I mean, I did. I started reading them for confession tips, but then it turns out some of them are really good. Like Limitless? And then I started reading my sister’s, and I kind of like them now. Is that weird?”

“No. Honestly, it’s kind of cute.”

“Really? You’re not weirded out by that?”

“Not even a little bit. I don’t care what you read as long as you’ll talk to me about it after.”

“Well, I finished Winter Fireworks recently. Have you read it before?” When you shake your head, he takes a step closer and leans down. “It ends like this.”

As it turns out, the story ends with a kiss.

~ ad.gray

None of the mangas/animes mentioned actually exist. They’re just riffs of other fics we’ve written. Was this just a giant ad for them? Yeah, kind of lol. In order of appearance:

The Life of A Dragon and Its Rider ➞ Normal (Hyunjin)

Tsukiko of the Wolves ➞ 42nd Moon (Hyunjin)

NecRomancer ➞ Magic Words (Hyunjin) 

Why Do I Not Remember You? ➞ Eternally Yours (Hyunjin)

Feast of the Gods ➞ God’s Menu (Felix)

Bleeding Heart ➞ King of Hearts (Bang Chan)

He Doesn’t Know My Secret ➞ Harmony, Melody (Seungmin)

Steampunked! ➞ Matters of the Head and Heart (Felix)

Squirrel Princess ➞ Squirrel and Wife (Han)

Best Friend Boyfriend ➞ Ruin My Life (Lee Know)

I Wouldn’t Change A Thing ➞ Even if Things Were Different (Han)

00 Daniel ➞ Apologies in Advance (Lee Know)

Limitless ➞ love you to limx (Han)

Winter Fireworks ➞ Ringing in the New Year (Bang Chan)

bonus after credits scene

It’s only when the two of you are crossing the bridge do you realize what he has done. “You just spoiled the ending for me!”

“Sorry, I forgot.” After a few seconds, he asks, “Can I give you more spoilers?”

You reach for the front of his blazer. “Yes.”

[heresathreebee]

Ruby Moon Sunflower Seeds

[Colonel Rick Flag x Kaia Castle (OC)]

Summary: Rick has a fling with a temporary coworker only to find out a few years later she had his baby. Teaser Masterlist Part 2

Tag(s): 16+ | language, crude humor, soon to be canon typical violence, dual POVs, past and present tense.

Author's Notes: yeah we'll see if the title sticks, my alternates are on standby. Barely edited, no beta reader. Please enjoy! ~~~

Another task force assembles for a briefing, this time in a state of the art holographic projector room. Powered by an ancient magic eye that can peer into any time or place, even going outside of their known universe to explore alternatives. 

"Very Star Trek," Harley cooes. "What's that thing called? That thing, you know from that show and they made a movie about it!" 

She looks at Rick expectantly. He mumbles it, almost as if he was embarrassed. "A holodeck." 

"Alright people," Waller snaps her fingers and a box appears in her hand (courtesy of one of her IT jockeys). "This is the God's Eye. Now we have it on loan from a very powerful foreign dignitary and we are on a time limit so we need to get down to business and do it fast. Flag." 

Rick steps up to the table as Waller places the box on it. The top opens like a flower to reveal… well an eye. A disembodied eye the size of a grapefruit which flicks around in it's container until it catches sight of Rick, the closest person to it. 

"Ew..." literally anybody could have said it and the feeling was shared all around the room. 

"We need to locate a powerful sorcerer who will destroy Earth in 10 days," Waller begins. "Each of you will have to be at your best if we want to keep this rock spinning." 

"And that means workin' with him, does it?," Bloodsport growls and points a finger at Superman. 

"As a matter of fact it does." 

Before they could get into a pissing match, Harley appears at Rick's side (quite suddenly actually, she almost apparates). "So you can ask this thing anything at all? Like if pigs can fly or Channing Tatum's dick size?" 

Amanda glared dagger at her. 

"Harley I'm not one to talk but," Rick crosses his arm and motions with his hand over a straining bicep, "maybe let's not talk about dicks in front of the kid." 

He juts his chin at Dubois' girl, leaning like a scoundrel by the door (in prison orange no less). She has probably heard worse but hey the thought counts, right? Harley awws and tucks a hair behind her ear. 

"You know Flag, I think you might make a great dad someday." 

"Uh, thanks…?" 

Harley oOos and everyone knows trouble is coming. "Are you a dad? Do you have kids?" 

"No– look, can we please–" 

"Are you sure?" 

"Harley what are you–" Rick shakes his head, "no." 

"No like no you're not sure?" 

Before he can stutter a response, Harley presses her hand into the back of his and forces him to make contact with the all powerful eyeball. The colonel's entire stomach flips upside down but before anyone can blink Harley shouts: 

"Does Rick Flag have any kids?!" 

Belle Reve Penitentiary, the early years…

It's 2016 and the first Suicide Squad mission was ultimately a success. 

They fought the Enchantress, almost nobody died, the world was saved. Drinks were served all around the table right before those still serving sentences returned to their high security cells. 

The director had plenty of other prisoners in Belle to pick from now that she had shown what they were capable of. As time passed, some of them died horrific deaths and some got to return to their damp, gloomy cells to fight another day. Almost none of them went home though: most of these fuckers were serving a life sentence or three and rarely made it past their second mission. And despite himself, Colonel Rick Flag had begrudgingly grown to respect the prisoner known as Deadshot. 

This would be Lawton's third. Rick's, too. Amanda seemed to hold him back from missions that ended in tragedy… it almost felt like she knew they would be unsuccessful, but she still picked the teams and sent them in with trash intel and shoddy leadership. 

Waller called them jobs they could afford to lose. Rick called them corporate mandated death squads. And despite her uncharacteristic tendency to hold him back from those certain death missions, he was not so foolish as to believe this mission was any less suicidal than the others. 

"Here's your team, Colonel." 

Waller's IT tech slipped him a stack of paper files and pulled them all up on screen for the rest of them to see. "For this mission we will be bringing back Floyd Lawton into the field. Expert marksman, decent secondary lead, he'll be one of your more mentally competent allies." 

"Fantastic," Rick said flatly. 

After Lawton, it was all downhill. Jeremy Tells aka Double Down who can turn his flesh into dangerous cards. Kaleidoscope, no known alias, with diamond colored tattoos over her entire body and the ability to use light to create visual hallucinations. Fucking Calendar Man, just a guy who does crime on holidays. 

"Thank god it's almost Christmas," Rick muttered to himself. 

Waylon Jones aka Killer Croc might not be so bad. Stable? Probably not, but he seemed to do fine following orders the last gig they had. Rick wasn't getting a read on the likes of Zazzala aka Queen Bee aside from devious but then Waller had to throw a curveball in, didn't she? 

"That is a child." Rick threw the stack of folders on the desk with a page flipped to Nemesis Kid. 

"That," Waller replied, "is an alien from the future. His ability is to be able to defeat any one opponent he is fighting no matter what." 

"How the fuck did you capture him, then?" 

"Can't fight if you're sleeping," she shrugs. "But nevertheless he's just as dangerous as the rest of them and should be treated as such."

"Weakness?" 

"He can only successfully defeat one opponent at a time." 

The rest of the team were mercs, duds, a few guards from the pen. One Rick realized was neither a prisoner nor a guard. "What's her deal?" 

Waller barely glanced at the page. "Castle is on a trial run. Thinking about a second squad leader for future runs of the Task Force." 

Rick knows exactly what that means. She's your replacement if you die out there. 

Well fuck, he resigns himself to the thought and assumes the goal to prepare her for anything. 

Previous Masterlist Next

[yuzukult]

from home 05 || jjk & reader

title: from home  pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in later chapters word count: 7.5k+ prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: i was really excited to write this chapter and i still couldn’t get myself to make it longer... :( i suck...

please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed! taglist: @scalubera @strugglingartistno16-2 @taestannie @teresaisla @drumsofheaven @vampgguk @christiandosworld @madjammil @jungkookieyoongs @bananagguknim @shuttheelleup​ @yobroitsjayden​

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Stating that Jungkook was 'on edge' is an understatement.

His palms and armpits were sweaty from the moment he arrived at your apartment to grab you before going to meet your parents, despite the amount of layers of deodorant he has on. He's never had a real relationship before, let alone met any girl's parents, and he can't help but feel something churning in his gut. "Good to go?" You ask, and he merely nods, suddenly bashful because he feels like he is definitely not ‘good to go.’ "Alright, let's head out."

The ride on the bus to your family home is only 30 minutes away, and truthfully, he has never ridden on one before. Walking to yours, Hoseok, and his home were less than 15 minutes, the thought of taking the bus being the absolute last thing on his mind. 

Jungkook isn't exactly sure how he feels about the bus. The constant starting and stopping makes him nauseous; then the unsteadiness of having to hold the bars and handles throughout the vehicle all around seems unsafe. When there's an available seat, you sense his fear, nudging him cautiously, gesturing him to take the seat. "Sit," and granting he wants to offer it to you instead, Jungkook complies to the demand because he swears he's going to vomit. 

After getting off the public transportation that he vows to never take again, you guide Jungkook through a narrow road, he notices the neighborhood here was more concentrated than the ones in Busan; tightly knitted with homes that stacked on top of one another, side to side, and back to back. People hung their clothes on lines that stretch from apartment to apartment, piles of boxes stored on balconies, and plants resting on the borders with owners sitting idle on their porches, fixated on their hobby of people watching. 

Jungkook is known to be popular to the public, from magazines, gossip TV channels, social media posts, and the types continue on to the point that you couldn’t name them all on your own ten fingers. People don't often recognize him on the streets anymore because he's unrecognizable in regular everyday clothes but today, he learns that you're the celebrity.

The people in their homes say their greetings, making comments here and there as you entertain them with a response back, laughter dispersing in the air. There's an old lady that lounges on the steps of her home, a smile stretched so wide that her eyes disappear, all with a blanket laying across her lap, knitting away. "I haven't seen you around, I assume your mother is having a dinner party for the kids? I see you brought a friend!"

"Something along those lines," you retort indirectly, nose snug into your scarf. "You're not staying indoors? It's cold out."

"My husband keeps the heater on the home too high, I sweat like I'm going through menopause like I’m forty all over again, so I much rather be outside here. Anyways, I don't want to hold you up too long, but please come by for Christmas, I do have a sweater I knitted for you as well!"

Then there's a grandfather, another grandmother, and a couple who seems just a bit older than the two of you, and the list just goes on. Despite the whisper exchanges at the supermarket mentioning that you're intimidating, mean, and scary, it's obvious that you aren't or else you wouldn't be swooning the hearts of these strangers.

But there will always be an exception. Especially when the two of you run into a girl who looks close in age, hair dyed blonde with her lips painted fusion red. He could tell how curvy she was with how tight the winter coat hugs her frame, swaying her hips toward your direction as she eyes you both suspicious. "I see our town loser brought a friend."

"Mm," You nod, attempting your best not to amuse her, or else you’d be pouncing on her back by now. "Jungkook, this is Somin. A classmate of mine when I was in grade school." He bows in politeness, zipping up his jacket further while stepping closer to you. "Nice to meet you, Somin."

"Oh, no!" She gasps, a hand on her chest in exaggeration, completely flabbergasted by something he said. "Don't call me that. I go by Bella, since... you know, I am an American now. Being an American deserves the right name."

"You got your citizenship there?"

"No, but, I spent enough time there to know." She grins, shrugging her shoulders. Spent enough time there—you want to call out on her bullshit yet again, knowing she barely spent a month there before dropping out of school and coming back, but it'd be humiliating to mention that with Jungkook standing by, a stranger that she had only met a mere few seconds ago. "You said Jungkook... Are you perhaps, Jeon Jungkook of the Jeon Corporation?"

You furrow your brows. "How do you even know that?"

"Well, daddy invests in their stocks, of course." Fluttering her lashes, she manages to make her presence known to Jungkook as she moves in his direction. "And I saw his pretty little face in a magazine and couldn't help but admire."

Possessively, your hand slips into his pocket, intertwining your fingers together, causing warmth to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. "Well, great to see you, Somin. Jungkook and I have dinner plans with my parents."

"Whoa, wait, dinner plans?" Somin nearly exclaims, shifting aside to block your way. "Also, it's Bella, get that straight, will you? And why is Jeon Jungkook with you anyway?"

"We're dating," Jungkook interjects, clearing his throat. The words are still unfamiliar on his tongue yet he loves to flaunt them anyway. "I'm her boyfriend." He adds, tightening the grip on your hand as if Somin could see it. Her mouth drops open, unable to grasp onto the fact that you were able to land on a hunk like him. If only she knew how much knowledge of basic life skills he didn't have... actually, she might still have the same perspective. "There's no way. This is fake, right? You realize how rude she is, don't you?"

"No, it’s not fake, and well, kind of," Jungkook admits, scrunching up his nose at the thought. "But it's endearing. Wouldn't be as exciting if she wasn't always trying to banter with me, so I don't think I'd have it any other way. People mistake it for her honesty. I love a woman who can be true to herself and genuine with her words."

Just then, your mother peeks out of the front door of your childhood home, waving her arm eagerly, calling out your name. "Well, that's our cue. Thanks, Somin, for congratulating us on our new relationship. Hope you find someone yourself soon!"

"What—" Somin barely finishes her sentence before you're zooming past her, tugging Jungkook along. 

"I didn't know you had so many enemies," Jungkook says jokingly, a playful smile upon his lips. You roll your eyes before squinting them at him, squeezing his hand hard as he winces. "Now you know how little I care for them, watch out because you might become one."

Upon entering the home, Jungkook observes too many things at once. Your mother is in the kitchen, frantically maneuvering through the junk that your family has hoarded over the years, searching for whatever it is she needs for the task at hand. Your father sits comfortably on the couch, feet on the coffee table with a controller in hand, dozing off with a combination of quiet and loud snores escaping from him. As a family home, Jungkook believes it's small considering that you had mentioned previously that you had two other siblings. To think that your parents are still living in the same home they grew up in is amazing to him, knowing that his parents moved at least five times within his youth while you only stayed in one home.

"Uh, hello," He greets your mom, bowing as she places her hands onto his shoulders, shaking him in excitement. She looks almost like a replica of you, except older and much brighter. "You must be Jungkook! It's so great to meet you, I'm so happy that my daughter found someone. She's known to be a bit... cold, so knowing that you were able to warm her up means that you're definitely special!"

"You make me sound like a bad guy." You hiss before your little sister walks in, in the midst of tying her hair up into a ponytail. She resembled your mother than you did, a delighted expression that matched exactly the one your mother had on. "That's because you are, and any guy who dates you seem to run away once they find out." She halts in her steps when she notices Jungkook's face. "Oh my god, you're that model."

"Model?" Your mother reiterates, glancing back at Jungkook and then your sister. "Yeah, yeah, that model in the new edition of Elle. He was in it—he's listed as one of the 10 most desirable men under 30. No flipping way, how'd you even get him to even date you?" She pauses before pointing at Jungkook with a suspicious look on her face as his eyes widened. "Unless... you need her for something. What's she offering? It can't be her body, she's not sexy... is it her brains? You heard about her—"

"Miyoung." Your mother says sternly, interrupting your sister. "Just because Jungkook is a model, it doesn't mean that your sister is incapable of being loved by a man like that."

"Actually—"

"Oh, hey. You must be the boyfriend." A taller male enters the room, his hair messy and lids hooded from waking up barely minutes before. He's still in his pajamas, a loose grey shirt and red checkered pants, but from the outline of his shirt, Jungkook could tell this guy was built. "I'm Daehyun, also known as their big brother. It's nice to meet you." Jungkook is in awe, hand extending to shake with Daehyun's. He knows he's straight, but even as a straight guy he knows a pretty man when he sees one. 

Jungkook was starting to pick up as to why your exterior was so tough. With a younger sister who didn't have a filter to an incredibly handsome older brother, of course as the middle child you had to protect yourself. "Uh, yeah. And that's my little sister, Miyoung, who basically just attacked me for all of my insecurities within a minute. Thanks, kiddo."

"No problem, Unnie." She grins cheekily, seated on the high stool. "Did mom tell you I was back home from college for the weekend? That's why you're here?"

"Something like that," you respond ominously, hanging up your jacket along with Jungkook’s. Despite her preceding interrogation, she’s chewing on her bottom lip skittishly. "More like she forced me to come. Well, she didn't say anything yet but I felt a guilt trip coming so I just decided that I would come instead."

"Typical," Daehyun scoffs, leaning against the wall beside Miyoung. He sneaks a glimpse into the kitchen where your mother secretly runs back into, resuming in her work. "She's been desperate to get us all back together since the two of you moved out. Remind me again why I'm the only one stuck here?"

"Because you can't find a job." Miyoung and you remind him in unison and he frowns. The interaction between the three of you is crystal clear evidence that you guys are related. "Well, geez, hurt a guy, why don't you? See what I have to deal with, Jungkook?"

With some time left until dinner, the four of you crowd at your small dining table, conversing away about updates in your lives. Miyoung is in University an hour away from home, residing there for an easier commute, and Daehyun stays at home with an ambition to find a job that fits his degree. Daehyun still dates from time to time but he admits that he can’t tend to his needs because well, his mother is a room away, and oddly enough, albeit Miyoung babbles on about other things, she’s silent about her love life. Neither Miyoung and Daehyun are able to hold a steady job, he observes, and he’s starting to pick up as to why you’re so adamant about keeping both of yours. Jungkook learns that everything seems to gravitate toward one of the two phrases from your siblings when it comes to finances and they are: “Mom can handle it,” or “I’m going to let Dad do it so I don’t have to.”

From what Jungkook can gather, your siblings seemed to have different outlooks on life compared to you—they still depended on their parents whilst you were already hunting for opportunities of your own before Miyoung’s age so you didn’t have to ask for money.

“Are you still upset with me about what happened a year ago?” Miyoung finally asks you, chewing on her nails nervously. It seems to be something she’s been holding back from you, Jungkook takes a note of the way her eyes were filled with worry. “Of course,” You reply nonchalantly, leaning back against your seat with your arms crossed. “How could I not be? But you’re my sister, so I can’t actually be mad at you.”

Miyoung begins to tear up— glassy gaze with her bottom lip quivering, in spite of the previous aggressiveness she presented when you first entered the house. Before Miyoung could get another word in, your mom comes in with a guilty expression on her face. She calls your name faintly, a pout upon her lips. “Can you and Jungkook go out and grab me a couple things before dinner?”

Jungkook can’t get the question that Miyoung brings up out of his mind. In the middle of an aisle at another one of his mother’s grocery stores, your lips are pursed in thought at which brand of soy sauce would your mom like more. 

“What was Miyoung going on about?” He eventually asks, but he holds his breath in case you decide to sock him for querying you about something so personal. Strangely enough, you open up. “Miyoung fell in love with my ex. He told me they didn’t do anything but he was in love with her, so we broke up. I thought I was going to settle with him but— guess not.”

Jungkook’s eyes expand like a deer in headlights. “Your little sister is dating your ex-boyfriend? And they were in love with each other during your relationship? I would’ve given her an uppercut if I were you— are you seriously still buying the banana milk she asked for?” He’s trailing behind you as you lead him toward the drinks; your face brightening from the lights from the fridges. How could someone who lost their boyfriend to their little sister seem so put together in the first place? Was this was Hoseok was talking about that your men streak was horrendous? 

“Because she’s my little sister. At the end of the day, I want her to be happy.” Throwing a pack into the cart, Jungkook continues to push it while following you, mind still foggy and angry about the situation. Here you were, with a guy who you’d fallen in love with to the point of considering settling down, then finding out he’s been in love with your sister... he feels like this is all a fever dream and isn’t an ounce real. “You’re fucking with me right?”

You look at him with perplexity. “What do you mean?”

“This sounds crazy. You’re serious? Miyoung stole a guy from you and you’re just going to be the bigger person here and not do anything about it?”

“What am I supposed to do? Throw a tantrum? Get in the way of their relationship that is obviously blossoming in a good way?”

Jungkook pauses. Was this what it was like in another family? Or at least yours?

In comparison, he perceives that within his family, outbursts were everything. Getting attention and being recognized for any wrongdoing was immensely important— he knew that if he stole a girl away from one of his brothers, he wouldn’t make it out of the house alive. His mother, including father, would never forget it. The chattering would be heard through the grapevine amongst the housemaids, drivers, and employees of the company. Even news media outlets would dabble a bit into the family drama, adding fuel to the fire. He could never react the way you did, at least, he hopes he would, but realistically speaking, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it.

Yet, with you, it seemed simple enough. Sure, your heart was broken, but how were you going to be with someone who didn’t love you back?

“If you love someone, you let them go.” You say calmly when Jungkook doesn’t respond back. “Keeping them around for your benefit doesn’t solve anything. If he wasn’t truly happy with me, I want him to be happier with someone else. And if that person so happens to be with Miyoung, what am I supposed to do?”

“But... you’re not happy.” Jungkook declares with no hesitation. He recalls the time where you felt bad for him for not having the best upbringing, and he’s starting to understand the emotion that ran through you. “I’m happier now,” You concede, placing the last ingredient your mom has on the list for you to purchase, turning your back at Jungkook. “Now that I met you.”

His heart flutters at the comments, and he’s desirous about bringing up the topic of the kiss again. Jungkook resists the urge to because he could tell from the way your silhouette begins to quicken its pace toward the checkout line that you really didn’t want to talk about it. 

When the two of you arrive back at your house, your father is jolted awake. Jungkook greets himself to the elder man who only grins brighter than the sun—something Jungkook is trying to grasp where your grumpiness comes from— and instantaneously directs him to the dinner table where your mom has a ton of side dishes laid out with six place settings for you all.

During the meal, there was nothing but exchanging stories, laughter, and elation that swarms the room. If this was what family meant, Jungkook wanted it. And the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it to be with you.

Nothing is working out for Jungkook.

This week, the pipe in his apartment burst. Something about— it’s winter and when it’s cold, the water freezes within the pipe and it expands the material, causing the pipe itself to burst, he doesn’t quite understand how the whole plumbing system works, but he knows that he can’t use the water in his apartment and has to go to yours and Hoseok’s for the week for a shower until the landlord can get it fixed.

Then, one of the deli guys called off because he apparently had the runs which meant that there was a shift change— Jungkook having to cover since whomever was working that day didn’t have the skills to do it.

Skills? Jungkook curses underneath his breath when he recites that word in his head repeatedly because he cuts his finger on the meat slicer as he winces, calling out your name. Coming to his side, you pull out the first aid kit and force him to sit down on one of the stools, tying elastic on a higher point of his finger to stop the blood from gushing out. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just... I didn’t need to be put here, right? Someone else could’ve done this, I have no idea how to use a slicer.”

“I know,” You coo, wiping some of the antiseptic on the wound as he whimpers at the sudden sting. “The new shift manager panicked, she wasn’t sure what to do since the guy with the actual food preparation license is going to be here a bit late so she put you here. Not exactly the best plan.” After bandaging him up, you wash your hands underneath the faucet as Jungkook slouches in the seat.

Nothing really was going his way.

It doesn’t even stop there. Unexpectedly, his mother calls for dinner but you’re on shift, therefore you wouldn’t be able to attend. He’s tempted to down a glass of whiskey on ice, his signature drink, but when he opens the cabinet in his kitchen, he falters at the image of your face. Would you be disappointed if you saw what he was doing? And Hoseok? What would he say?

Retracting his hand back, he immediately slams the door shut at the thought of the consequences.

Dinner is the usual at the Jeon residence. Father sits at the end of the dining table, the typical beige cloth napkin spread across on his lap while in his usual work attire, glasses rested on the tip of his nose as he’s ready to dive in with a fork and spoon in hand. Mother is settled beside him, pretty as ever and calm in comparison to the hell that’s going to let loose in a couple minutes. The unknown? Who is going to blow up this time and who will they be comparing themselves to?

The answer? Jongseok and Jungkook.

Jongseok is upset to the point that he articulates every word with spit nearly projecting from his mouth to the opposite side of the room. The vein on his temple is stressed to the point that all Jungkook can think about is when it’s going to pop. “Why are you guys always babying Jungkook? You realize the kid is fucking working at a grocery store right? And not just any grocery store, either, but it’s mother’s chain.”

“Okay?” Father retorts, forehead wrinkling in puzzlement. “Isn’t he trying to prove himself worthwhile? Didn’t he find that job himself, despite it being your mother’s chain? He’s paying for his mistakes, learning basic life skills along the way, and even landed himself a serious girlfriend who can hold his hand through these tough times, since, after all, you’re the one who suggested we cut him off. If I’m being honest, I think we should give him access to our funds again.”

A scoff of incredulity comes from Jongseok. He’s a ticking time bomb in this moment; jaw twitching in frustration with the tips of his ears heated red. Even though he’s the target yet again, Jungkook is sober now, mind clear of the fog and the ability to defend himself for once. “I don’t get it. Why are you even mad at me? I’m trying here, right? You’re the one who wanted me to get cut off so desperately— and congrats, by the way, because I did. I had to find a job myself, one I’m not a fan of, and I’m barely making it by. I lost water in my apartment this week, cut my hand on one of those deli slicers, sprained my ankle on my way to work— and that’s only a portion of my bad week. Yet here I am, sitting at the dinner table with people who claim that they love me when you’re here flipping shit at father. What do you want from me?”

“For your name to be completely off the will.” Jongseok finally says what he has been actually feeling unperturbedly, not an ounce of affection in his tone with a gaze that could pierce through Jungkook. “You have nothing to offer to this family. Why we keep you around— I don’t know. Why should you have any portion of our estate and company assets when all you’re doing right now is working at the supermarket. Tell me, Jungkook, why do you deserve to be part of any of this?”

Jungkook hates how childish he’s being, but he feels like he has the right to. The flickering colorful lights and music booming through the speakers of the club are tuning out the words his brother exclaims at his parents, and the amount of alcohol passing through his lips are numbing the pain that tears through his chest. Your face pops up in his head; your laugh, your smile, and the comfort in the underlying messages through your tough love— he wishes that all of that was enough to heal the sting in his heart and fill the hollowness that his family left.

He doesn’t remember any of these people sitting at this table with him, even though they’re hollering in excitement that “Jungkook is back again!” The girl placing a hand on his chest with his arm around her shoulder isn’t you, but he knows that if it was, you’d be so displeased at how wasted he is. Honestly, this feels wrong. Nothing sits right in his stomach and when another pretty gal with her dress hiked up to the point he could see her thong from where he’s on the couch, he’s not even attracted to her. All he could think about was you, and that scowl on your face when he tells you about this night. He could hide it from you but he’s not going to lie to himself— if he wanted to improve for the better, it meant being straightforward and authentic. Jungkook came here to let loose because the events that occurred at the estate tonight was something he wants to forget.

Turning to the girl beside him, his eyes are hooded and vision is blurry when he asks, “What’s your name again?”

When her rosy plump lips open, she says her name but the voice that comes out of it is deep and oddly familiar. “Hyeri?” Why does she say it like a question, and why is her voice so low? Just then, a hand clenches the fabric of his shirt, pulling him up and he meets the proprietor of the response. Hoseok.

Hoseok drags Jungkook’s weak and frail frame out into the alleyway behind the club, fuming to the point that smoke could’ve been whistling out of his ears. “What the fuck are you doing here? And with Hyeri, of all people! I thought I told you to stop fucking around, dude! I-I thought you knew how much she means to me. Out of the people I’ve partied with— you were my actual friend.” He clenches his jaw before Jungkook could even answer, a fist tightening in his hand. “You’re such a fuck up, Jungkook. So much for a friend.” 

Then everything blacks out.

His entire body hurts. His head is pounding, he can barely open one of his eyes, and his legs are so sore he can hardly shift on the bed— on a bed? He doesn’t have a bed. He has a futon but not a bed. Startled, he attempts to sit up against the bed frame, the other eye opening to skim through the room. 

He’s never been in your bedroom before, but the pictures of you graduating college hanging on the corkboard above your desk, concert tickets, Polaroids, and holiday cards thumbtacked beside them is all the evidence he needs to know it’s yours. Jungkook wants a closer look at them, he can scarcely make out the cute little smile on your face with your family in attendance in the picture, but when he puts weight onto his arms, he groans. Seconds later, you’re bursting through the door, out of breath and worry in your eyes. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Voice hoarse, he realizes how dry his throat is and you lean over to the bedside table to hand him the glass of water you had there originally. “Don’t move, idiot. You’re actually really torn up if you didn’t feel it with all that alcohol in your system.” Inviting yourself onto the foot of the bed, Jungkook frowns after he finishes the entire glass, much more dehydrated than he initially thought. “Trust me, it’s gone now. I feel every ounce of pain. What happened? I blacked out.”

“No shit,” you retort harshly, rolling your eyes at him. “You were drunk as hell, but you didn’t black out from that. Hoseok saw you getting all cozy with Hyeri and knocked the shit out of you. What happened, Jungkook? Why were you there in the first place? Did something happen?”

Reading the expression on your face, he fears for the worse but he doesn’t see any hint of dissatisfaction anywhere. There’s no anger, no resentment, no frustration— none of that. Just curiosity smeared across, genuinely worried about his well-being. “Are you upset that you found out I was there?”

“I was mad that Hoseok called me to come grab you, at first, so kind of, yeah. But if you’re trying to figure out if I’m disappointed in you, then no, I’m not. Old habits are hard to kill, so I understand that you’re trying to cope with something. I just want to know why you were there in the first place and why were you getting all lovey dovey with Hyeri—“

“I wasn’t getting lovey-dovey with Hyeri,” Jungkook exasperates, head falling back against the headboard, closing his eyes shut, interrupting before you lead the conversation into a lecture. “She was just some girl that sat down and claimed a spot next to me. I didn’t even know she was Hoseok’s girl.” There’s a pregnant pause in his explanation, and you don’t break off his train of thought. “I... I went because Jongseok called me useless tonight, yet again. It didn’t bother me as much as it did before, you know, before I met you, and it’s probably because I wasn’t intoxicated or the fact that I’m actually trying now and he still thinks I’m useless. He wants me out of the will.”

“He’s jealous that he’s the problematic child now, not you.” Making your way up the bed, you’re seated on top of the covers, settled adjacent to Jungkook. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re way more useful than you had been initially. I usually do the dishes at my parents’ house, mostly because I’m the middle child, but you did it for me instead. I consider that a huge accomplishment from who you were before.”

As much as he hates to admit how warm and fuzzy he feels inside just from that small achievement, it’s a resemblance of the time when he was younger and won an award for being most creative in his kindergarten class. How are you able to lift up his mood so easily by just saying a few words?

“I… is Hoseok really pissed?”

“A bit,” you reply sincerely and apologetically, even though none of this had been your fault. “He’s been in love with her even before I met him. She was all he could talk about, and I guess she finally gave him a shot, only to drop him a month later. I don’t know much about her, but I know she’s a gold digger from the stories he shared.”

Jungkooks face drops when his gaze meets yours. “Have you ever told him that?” You laugh—the melody that practically heals his wounds on the spot. “No, are you crazy? He’s blinded by love, Jeon, and any interference with that, I’m done for, probably cut out entirely from his life. Have you never been in love before?” 

He wants to say that he hasn’t, not until he met you, but you continue without expecting a response from him anyway. “Well, that’s just how he is. You could tell him a billion times that this girl isn’t for him but he’s never going to care about what I say until something actually happens.”

“I really care about Hoseok, though, and I want the best for him.” His doe-brown eyes are glossy, full of cherish for his friend. “And he cares for you too, Jeon. Just give him some time.” Quickly, Jungkook twists away, gaze avoiding yours as he clears his throat a couple times.

“Are you... okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” He says, choking up on his own words. “Hurts a little. Hoseok is strong.”

You furrow your brows. “Hey, look at me.” He doesn’t react. “Jeon,”

“Can... you give me some space?” 

Pulling your lips into a straight line, you contemplate whether or not to listen to his words or go against him. He’s been living in a home full of people yet still feeling alone, with no one to listen to his perspective on things. Maybe it’s time you change that.

Abruptly, you swing your leg over his thighs, hands cupping his cheeks just like you did that fateful night. He swore his heart stopped beating. “What are you—” There’s tears brimming in his eyes, you realize, with some escaping, trailing down his cheek. He sniffles. “You’re crying?” You’re stating the obvious, yet somehow it comes out as a question. “Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

“I’ve never had a friend love me before, a friend who actually liked me for me and only wanted to spend time with me because of who I was, not who my family was. Did I really fuck up with Hoseok?” You frown, thumb rubbing against his cheek to wipe away his tears. Truthfully, you never really knew how to react when someone fell apart like this, but with Jungkook, it felt natural, the comforting. It might’ve been the sunlight peering through the windows of your room that made everything toasty, thawing out your cold heart, or it was just Jungkook. “Maybe. But I doubt he wouldn’t give you a chance to explain yourself though. I mean, yeah, you’re bruised all over because he really beat you up... but, I’m sure this evens things out. Plus, I’m your friend and I love you too.”

He sighs, shoulders plunging with his hands creeping up to your waist unconsciously, tenderly steering you to sit on his thighs. Swallowing at the feeling of his body flattened against yours, you’re attempting to shake your head from the dirty thoughts. Jungkook feels at ease, detecting the words come from your mouth, yet he wants more. He craves for more, especially since that night in Busan and he isn’t sure he can hold himself back anymore.

“I... What happened that night in Busan?” Lifting your weight off him, he only stops you by putting down more pressure to stop your escape. Despite being in an awful lot of pain, he still manages to overpower you in strength. “Please don’t avoid this. If Jongseok didn’t come to our door that night, it would’ve led to something more. I want to know, please, what does it mean?” Cheeks burning, you stare at the wooden headboard behind him, except Jungkook knows your next steps before you do because his finger is already on your chin, guiding your view back onto him. He doesn’t need to say anything because the look he gives you says it all, tell me.

“Okay, okay,” You cringe, the idea of talking about this makes your stomach feel queasy and want to recoil in dread. “White flag. I’ll talk.”

“Enough of this white flag nonsense, just tell me.”

Belatedly gathering enough courage, you spill. Although your heart feels like it’s jumping through hoops from suspense, you realize that you can’t hold yourself back any longer anyway. “I’m... attracted to you, alright? I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about you 100% emotionally, because I still feel like we’re on different pages here, but I feel like I kind of like you? If this goes any further, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.”

That’s... it? Admittedly so, Jungkook was hoping for more of a confession, something along the lines of, ‘I really like you, Jungkook’ but he’d have to settle for this. This was definitely a step closer to where he wants to be. “So... you’d date me, that is. There’s still an opening somewhere.”

“I-I mean, I guess so... why?”

“Because well, I can’t stop thinking about that night, and I know that for sure that I like you.” He discloses. “And if there’s even a bit of an opening, I want a shot at it.”

You scoff. “With me? You want an actual shot with me? After spending time with my family, you want to still try to swoon me?” There’s a smile tugging on Jungkook’s lips; there’s a blackish-bluish bruise underneath his eye, the side of his lips red and blotchy and the entirety of his body is either swollen or bruised, and yet, he still endures the pain to be beaming brighter than the stars. “Of course, you met my family, right? Yours is nothing complicated in comparison... well, maybe your sister. But for once, I feel like I belong here, with you, I feel like I’m home. So, will you give me a chance to win you over?”

“Don’t you think you’re rushing this whole thing? This... you thinking you like me kind of thing.”

“Are you going to keep wasting your time?” He blurts, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You wasted how long with some guy only for him to ditch you for your sister. What about your happiness, and what you want? None of this is fair to you. What if I could possibly give that to you, that happiness? Would you actually give me a chance?”

Sincerely, you didn’t know what the relationship with Jungkook held and what it would mean in the future. But what he asserts is right with the things he repeats in Busan about being selfish for once replays in your head again, and you finally decide to take a shot at it.

Was it the high of saying ‘yes, okay’ to Jungkook or the painkillers he took earlier because when your lips meet with his, he feels like he’s floating in mid-air. Your tongue is wet and soft when it fights with his, and when his hands on your waist pull you in closer, the bulge in his pants isn’t discreet, raging for attention, twitching against your thigh while your fingers knots through his hair tightens in response to your bottom lip suddenly tucked in between his teeth. The room feels steaming hot, especially when your hips start to move against his, emitting a groan from him as hand trails down to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze in consequence. His jeans from last night are still on and they’re straining in his crotch uncomfortably.

This is escalating so fast—just as quickly as his heart is beating in his chest, almost popping out of his chest cavity. Your natural scent is intoxicating, clouding up his mind to the point that he doesn’t think he needs the alcohol to forget the pain his family has caused him anymore, because you’re mending the pieces of him together. Your hands trail down to his neck, tugging him closer before they wander down to his biceps, giving him a gentle squeeze that releases a wince from him. 

Just as abrupt as the kiss, you pull away with a concerned and panic expression, with your mouth open in aghast. “Oh my god— I forgot you were still injured—” As you’re trying to move back, you stumble on his legs and collapse onto the floor.

“What— hey, are you okay?” He says, breathless as he leans over to check on you sprawled on the floor. Swiftly hopping back on your feet, he observes you clearly with your hair disheveled, cheeks tinted pink, and swollen lips. There’s a look of achievement on his face from the sight of a disoriented you. “Uh, um, yeah. I-I’m good,” Flustered, you push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m... I’m going to get dinner ready for the both of us, uh, I’m going to leave you to it,” you’re awkwardly gesturing his crotch before rushing out the room and slamming the door shut.

He can only laugh at your reaction. At least his week wasn’t that bad after that kiss, right?

Jungkook stirs awake from the sound of chatter in the living room, voices familiar that he can associate them as yours and Hoseok’s. Unexpectedly, he sounds melancholic, the muffled sounds from your walls, almost to the point of whimpering mixed with your soft assuring words. He figures he should get a closer perspective of this, maybe enough where he can make out what the two of you are conversing about.

He’s not far off from shrieking when he angles his leg too far, but he bites his bottom lip in prevention of any sound, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the torment. Careful, he reiterates like a mantra in his head, chanting it until it’s engraved in his brain. When he reaches the door, he opens it slowly and just barely, to peek out and see the scene unfold before him.

“She told me that they didn’t do anything,” Hoseok exclaims, face in his hands as his elbows are resting on his knees. “That she chose to be there, and Jungkook was just lounging on the couch. That if anything, she wanted him to fuck her. Isn’t that ridiculous? How could she say that?”

You’re seated on the armrest of the loveseat, hand rubbing against Hoseok’s back soothingly. “I know, Hobi, I know. You might’ve been the right one for her, but at the end, she wasn’t the right one for you.”

“I could’ve changed,” He emphasizes, spinning his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are crimson and swollen from his tears, restlessness fills in those orbs. “I love her so much.”

“Well, and you love Jungkook. He’s in the other room, beat up and crying because he thought he lost you. He didn’t do anything wrong and you tore him to shreds! Earlier when we were making—“ You pause, clearing your throat when you realize where you were leading the conversation, Hoseok raising a brow in confusion at the action. “Earlier, I mean, I went to check on him and he was whining in pain. You really hurt him, Hoseok, and not just physically either. He’s both hurt emotionally and physically.”

He frowns. “I mean, I guess... I guess it wasn’t his fault.”

“There’s no guessing, idiot. It wasn’t. He was honestly too wasted to even realize that she was sitting beside him. Poor kid reeked of alcohol that I almost made him sleep on the porch. But he would’ve gotten robbed so... I let him stay in my room and I slept on the couch.” Jungkook glowers at the thought of you struggling to find comfort on the small sofa, wishing you would’ve chosen to sleep by him instead.

“Can I... talk to him?” Hoseok finally asks, looking down at his hands in embarrassment. His knuckles were red, contused from the one-sided fight he had with Jungkook the night before. “I fucked up, and I’m sure he thinks that he really fucked up.”

You hum for a moment before an idea pops into mind. “How about... you go out and get takeout? I’ll check on him, prep him for your appearance, and then you guys can hash it out?”

You don’t take no for an answer, pushing Hoseok out the door shortly, and a soft smile tugs on the edges of Jungkook’s lips before he lightly shuts the door and tip toes back into bed, pretending to be deep in slumber.

When you come into the room afterwards with a wet rag in hand and a bucket of warm water, his heart swells. Patting the towel against his wounds while seated at the edge of the bed, he hastily has a hand wrapped around your wrist, shocking you in the midst of your activity. “Oh— you’re awake?” He gingerly kisses the palm of your hand, heat clogging your face . “Yeah. And, thank you. For everything. I owe you a lot.”

“I—uh, maybe you’ll reciprocate this for me as well, one day?” You respond dubiously. “But... you also might not know how to do it so—“

“Are you still trying to make jabs at me after I made such a sweet comment?”

“Well, I’m just being honest, do you even know how to take care of another person?” You shoot back. “You couldn’t even get yourself back home, I had to be called and drag you back here myself, and my god, you’re heavy—“ He hauls your arm closer, dragging you along with it until your nose is inches away from his. “Can I kiss you again? I miss the way your lips feel with mine.” Even when he says the words in a volume that’s barely a whisper, his breath fans against your skin harshly, causing goosebumps to crawl up your spine.

The door pounds shut and before you can tear away from Jungkook’s hold, Hoseok is already standing in the threshold of the bedroom, mouth wide open in shock before it immediately fades into a mischievous grin. “What did I tell you, Kook? Which one was it first? You or her?”

[hotpodsummer]

Welcome to the 2021 Hot Pod Summer Exchange! Hot Pod Summer is a fic exchange challenge focused on Crooked Media podcast hosts, contributors to Crooked Media podcasts, real-life partners of pod hosts, and/or Crooked Media employees.

Rules:

You can nominate anyone who is a Crooked Media podcast host, a contributor to a Crooked Media podcast, any real-life partners of pod hosts, or any Crooked Media employees.

You can request between 3 and 6 relationships, and offer between 4 and 10 relationships.

Your assignment must be a complete textual story (no WIPs, please) of at least 1,500 words.

Your work must be archive locked so only registered users can access it.

How do I get in touch with the mods for this exchange? You can email us at hotpodsummer@gmail.com. 

Schedule

Nominations: April 30th-May 6th, 2021

Sign-ups open: May 7th, 2021 

Sign-ups close: May 16th, 2021 at 11:59PM EDT (what time is that for me?) 

Assignments go out: May 17th, 2021 

Default deadline: July 11th, 2021 at 11:59PM EDT

Assignments due: July 18th, 2021 at 11:59PM EDT (what time is that for me?)

Staggered reveals: July 25th-30th, 2021

Author reveals: August 5th, 2021

FAQ

Nominations

What can I nominate?

You can nominate relationships that include anyone associated with Crooked Media as a podcast host or contributor, a real-life partner of a pod host, or a Crooked Media employee.

A relationship can include two or more people. Please note that romantic relationships are denoted by / and platonic relationships are denoted by &. Thus, if you’d like to see a romantic story between person A and person B, you’d nominate that relationship as A/B. If you wanted to receive purely platonic fic without any romantic components, you’d nominate them as A&B. You can also combine & and / and nominate, for example, A/B & C, in which case A/B would be romantic and C would be a platonic part of the ship.

How do I nominate relationships for this exchange?

Go to the tag set! You're allowed to nominate up to 5 relationships during the nomination phase.

Sign-ups

How do sign-ups work?

On the collection page, find the button that says ‘Sign up’ and follow the prompts. You can request and offer any of the previously nominated relationships (no matter if you nominated them or not). You can request between 3 and 6 relationships for which you’d like to receive fic, and can offer to write between 4 and 10 relationships.

Do I have to write a letter to my author?

No, you do not have to write a letter to your author, though you are absolutely welcome to write a letter with optional details, prompts, or whatever else strikes your fancy. Leaving your author optional details in the sign-up field is not required either, but strongly encouraged. The details are optional, but some authors find it helpful to know what kind of story you’d like to receive, which tropes or prompts you’d really like to see written, or what your Do Not Wants (DNWs) are.

How does matching work?

The Hot Pod Summer exchange matches on relationships. Your assigned recipient will have requested at least one relationship that you offered to write. If you have entered optional details or DNWs in your AO3 sign-up boxes, these may also be taken into account when matching. Once matching is done, you will receive an email with your recipient’s AO3 username and their requests.

Assignments

What are the requirements for the story I’m writing?

Your story must feature at least one of the relationships requested by your recipient. It must also be a complete story (no “I’m posting chapter 1 now and other chapters later”, please!) of at least 1,500 words.

If I offered more than one ship that my recipient requested, which one do I write? If I want to write a ship they requested that I didn’t offer, am I allowed to do that?

As long as your story features at least one of the ships they requested, you’re good. If you offered more than one of their ships, which one you end up writing is totally up to you.

Is my assignment a secret?

Your assignment is a secret until authors are revealed. Please do not discuss the story you’re writing publicly, we all want to be surprised on reveals day. :) If you need to contact your recipient because you have a question about their sign-up or for whatever other reason, please do not contact them directly, even anonymously! Instead, email us at hotpodsummer@gmail.com and we will contact your recipient to ensure anonymity is maintained.

What if I can’t complete my assignment before the deadline?

Please reach out to us. We’re here to help, but we have to know if there’s a problem. We have a default deadline set for a week before assignments are due and while we understand that last-minute things can happen, it would really help mods with planning if we got a heads-up from you a week before your assignment is due if you think you won’t be able to turn in a story -- just hit the ‘default’ button on your My Assignments page if you need to. That way, we can send your assignment to a pinch hitter and ensure your recipient doesn’t go gift-less.

Am I guaranteed to receive a gift?

If you signed up for the exchange and turned in a story, you are guaranteed to receive a gift. If you default and your author does not, you will also receive a gift. If you default and your author defaults as well, you may not receive a gift, depending on availability of pinch hitters.

Can I make a fanmix/video/draw fanart instead of writing a story?

This is a writing exchange, so for your assignment, please stick to writing a story of at least 1,500 words. You’re welcome to add art, music, etc. to the story you wrote, but this is primarily a fanfiction exchange.

Can I write more than one story for my recipient?

Oh my god, you overachiever! :) Yes, you totally can. In that case, you’d post the extra gift as a treat, but you’re of course only asked to write one story.

What is a pinch hitter and how do I become one?

A pinch hitter fills in for somebody else who can’t complete their assignment and writes a story for that person’s recipient. A pinch hitter may be somebody who’s already participating in the exchange, but if you aren’t formally participating in the exchange and would like to pinch hit instead, you’re more than welcome to. If you’d like to pinch hit, please fill out the form any time after sign-ups begin (it will be linked here and/or posted on social media) or email us at hotpodsummer@gmail.com.

Can I write treats?

YES. All requests will be made public after assignments go out and if you’re inspired by one (or more!) requests that aren’t your assignment, you’re welcome to write a little bonus story (=a treat) on top of your assignment for anybody else who signed up for the exchange. You may also write treats if you aren’t officially participating in the exchange. Treats do not have to fulfill the minimum word count and may be multimedia.

How do I find a beta reader for my story?

If you’d like another pair of eyes on your story before you publish it, you can email hotpodsummer@gmail.com. In the email, please tell us: the ship you’re writing, the word count of your story, and what kind of beta you need (for example: SPAG, structure, canon, special knowledge of [certain subject or matter], etc.) and we’ll try our best to connect you with someone to look it over for you, though we can’t guarantee it.

I would like to beta someone else’s story!

Great! Sign up using this form here and if anyone needs a beta, we may contact you with their request.

Posting

How do I post my assignment?

In the top right corner of AO3, where it says “Hi, [your username]”, select “My assignments” from the dropdown menu, find the Hot Pod Summer exchange and click “Fulfill”. You’ll be taken to a form where you can input your story, title, etc. Preview it, make sure it looks how you want it to, and click on Post. Your story will automatically post into the Hod Pod Summer collection as a gift to your recipient. It will remain unrevealed in the collection until an admin reveals it.

Can I edit my story after the deadline?

Yes, you can edit your story until it’s revealed, but please do not upload an unfinished story.

How do I post a treat?

Posting a treat works a little bit differently than posting your assignment. In order to post a treat, you have to visit the Hot Pod Summer collection page (you’re probably on it now if you’re reading this FAQ) and click “Post to collection”. This will take you to a posting form that has the collection name already filled in, so it’ll be posted in the right place. From there, fill in the AO3 name of your treat recipient manually and then input your title, story, etc., preview it to make sure it looks the way you want it to look, and then click on Post.

Story reveals

What are staggered reveals and why are you doing them?

Staggered reveals mean that we’re only publishing a small number of stories at a time every day, thus, you might get your gift on any day during the reveals period. We’re doing this so every story can get the attention it deserves and readers aren’t overwhelmed by a lot of stories dropping at the same time.

How do staggered reveals work?

We will email you the night before the story you wrote will go live (please check your email!). That way, you’ll have the chance to put that day’s date on your story and make sure it appears at the top of the collection once your story is revealed.

Do I have to comment on my gift?

Look, we can’t mandate it, but please comment on your gift. It’s the polite thing to do if somebody else took the time and effort to write a story for you. 

Any other questions?

Email us at hotpodsummer@gmail.com and one of us will get back to you.

[antipodeanpineapplelump]

Dear Starshot, I recently saw your latest artwork for #Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura and I am DYING to learn more about this AU. If you're comfortable sharing, is there anything you can disclose about it?? Is this related to the ItaShi Indiana Jones AU you mentioned before?!!?!?!?!!

Hi Birk, thank you so much for dropping by with this ask! Are you really voluntarily asking me to talk about my current obsession and fanfic baby though? Because I warn you, you may live to regret that!!!

"Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura" is now the official title of my ItaShi Indiana Jones AU. I realise it’s been over a year since I first mentioned it, and it’s still a WIP! Pretty sure that says absolutely nothing good about the speed of my writing, but a lot about how busy my life outside of fandom is. Anyhow, it’s definitely one of those AUs that’s got away on me. I was planning one story initially, but now it’s kind of turned into three (plus a cracky oneshot), and this is just the first.

I’ve planned nine chapters total so far, but the bane of my life is currently number four. It’s sitting at 16,000 words and counting. Succinct writing? I’ve certainly never heard of it… So anyway, I kind of hit a wall there and decided to take a little break to come back with fresh eyes. That’s how I ended up working on the art instead. But I’d say I’m probably about halfway through the first draft (47,000-ish words).

I recently shared the opening scene and my draft cover artwork here. Ummm… what else can I tell you? Madara is the main bad guy, and he’s definitely a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Shisui is an agent of disaster and chaos. Itachi is really… not. So their initial interactions go about as well as you could expect.

All the main characters have extensive back stories. I’m pretty sure you’re already familiar with my Machiavellian worldbuilding tendencies from reading Red Dawn, so it goes without saying I have just as many notes and plans, and as much fleshed out worldbuilding for this story too. And it will take a long time for all of that to be revealed! But the overarching theme is probably found family, which is different to anything I’ve done before.

At this risk of revealing too much, or boring you to tears, I’ll finish with another sneak peek, this time from Itachi’s POV:

When Itachi wakes, there’s nothing to suggest his day is going to be anything but routine.

He gets up at dawn as per usual, eating breakfast at the dining table alone, legs tucked beneath him on a comfortable zabuton. The solitude at this hour of day is something he prefers. It’s the only time the family home is quiet anymore—lacking the cold disapproval of his father’s increasingly judgemental lectures, the anger of his younger brother’s rebellion, or the resigned acquiescence of his mother.

By now, Fugaku should have left for work, and it’s still too early for Sasuke to be awake, given how late he’s been staying out at night. Either to irritate their father, or just avoid him entirely, he’s taken to frequenting the clubs and bars in Osaka. Mostly, he comes home. Some nights, he doesn’t.

More often than not, even when he is home his door is closed, the thumping bass line of some song or another seeping out from beneath it. Likely because he knows this angers their father even more than the leather jackets and spiked punk-rock hair style he now sports.

Part of Itachi has been glad to discover his brother possesses more of a spine than he ever has. But at the same time, Sasuke’s rejection of every last one of their father’s rules has only brought more unwanted scrutiny to Itachi’s far more minor transgressions. It’s as though, having decided his younger child is a lost cause, Fugaku now wants to be absolutely certain his eldest son and heir to the Uchiha family fortune is beyond reproach. To smother him with expectations until he emerges, a diamond from beneath the pressure.

But unbeknownst to Fugaku, Itachi has one flaw he can’t change. And it means that, no matter what, he’ll always be a failure in his father’s eyes.

Sighing, he swallows a mouthful of rice and fish, washing it down with the sweetened barley tea he favours. Pulling this month’s edition of Modern Archaeology across the table, he inspects its glossy cover and promptly chokes on his drink.

The face that smiles up from the page stokes a knot of hot irritation in his gut. Furiously, he skips to the article, skim-reading the text, despite the fact he knows it will only annoy him further.

"An up-and-coming star in the field of archaeology, particularly specialising in South-American cultures, Shisui Uchiha is an increasingly well-known fixture of the San Diego research scene. Curiously for someone so entrenched in the study of history, he is famously reticent when it comes to his own. ‘I did spend my early years in Japan,’ he confirms when pressed. ‘But I haven’t been back in a long time. The United States is my home now.’ Asked about his connection to the famous Uchiha family, he merely winks enigmatically. ‘Never heard of them,’ he says, before asking if we’d like a one-on-one tour of the dig site.

Equally at home in dusty ruins as surfing the palm-lined SoCal beaches, or scaling the cliffs of his native Joshua Tree National Park, he nonetheless shines in group settings too. At the party we attend that evening, to celebrate the opening of a new Aztec exhibit at the Museo Nacional de Antropología in Mexico City, he easily charms the crowd, finishing the night with at least half a dozen new admirers. It’s not hard to see why they like him. A conversation with Shisui is exercise in passion and obscure historical knowledge. Even so, much like the dig sites he frequents, it’s hard to say just how much of what he presents to the world runs more than surface-deep.

His motto in life? ‘Fall seven times, stand up eight,’ Shisui says with a charismatic smile. Where did he learn it? Chuckling, he brushes us off. ‘The school of hard knocks.’

Love him or hate him, one thing is certain—we haven’t seen the last of Shisui Uchiha’s brand of archaeology.”

Hate him, Itachi thinks, sipping his tea viciously enough to scald his tongue and immediately regretting it. Definitely hate. Hate how he’s reckless, impulsive, irresponsible, and doesn’t seem to take a single thing seriously. Hate that it looks like he’s never had to work hard for anything a day in his life—people only too happy to hand him whatever he wants on a silver platter, charmed by a pretty smile. Hate the fact that, despite their shared family name, he’s free to do whatever he likes. Hate the way people flock to him, falling into his orbit—and by all accounts, bed—like it’s somehow inevitable. And hate, most of all, that there’s a small part of Itachi which understands why.

Because hate or love him—and it’s definitely hate—there’s no denying that Shisui Uchiha is, objectively, a very attractive man.

Coming back to his senses and realising he’s been leaning over the magazine, frowning so hard his forehead hurts, Itachi straightens, closing his eyes and massaging the knot of tension out from between his eyebrows.

“Itachi—”

The tension sinks in even deeper. He opens his eyes. “Father.”

Fugaku takes in magazine, then his son, and Itachi really hopes his cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel. It’s stupid, but merely knowing he feels the way he does about the man on the page makes him fear being caught. As though his father might somehow divine his deepest darkest secret, just by looking. Truthfully, Itachi sometimes wonders if he might not already know, or at least suspect. But if he does, it’s clearly a truth he’s chosen not to acknowledge.

“I take it you’re prepared for our meeting this evening?” Fugaku asks, grim as ever.

Attempting a composed sip of his tea, Itachi nods. “Yes. Of course.”

Mouth a hard, unyielding line, Fugaku makes some indiscernible noise of disapproval, sweeping an appraising glance over Itachi. “Well, I suppose it’s too much to hope that anything can be done about your hair between then and now. But they’re a modern family. New money. Perhaps it won’t matter so much.”

Fingers tightening into the flesh of his thigh, Itachi has to remind himself to breathe. “I will do my best to make a good impression,” he says, inclining his head towards his father, penitence for his innumerable shortcomings—not least of all the choice to grow his hair out. It’s a small act of rebellion compared to Sasuke’s effort, but one his father seems determined to curtail as promptly as possible.

Poker face easing ever so slightly, Fugaku’s brows trend downwards, though their slant is still severe. “I know. You are my son, after all. And it is high time you were married with a family of your own. Perhaps then you will see the value in giving up these frivolous academic pursuits, and taking your rightful place at the head of the family business.”

He might as well build a box and stuff Itachi into it. Mold him to fit his own vision of the future. But Itachi has long since learnt that what he wishes he could have from life, and what he can have, are two very different things. So, just like his infrequent clandestine trips to the less desirable areas of Osaka’s nightlife, this too, he realises he will have to sacrifice. Duty before self.

“Yes Father, I’m certain you’re right,” he says, bowing once more as Fugaku leaves for work, closing the front door behind him with a click that reeks of finality.

As his footsteps crunch away on the gravel path outside, Itachi can’t help clenching his fists, until long after his knuckles turn white.

Theoretically, it’s a good match. From a family of good standing, his potential bride is quiet and well spoken—the perfect future housewife and mother. Their marriage would kill two birds with one stone, giving her father the son he never had, and Itachi—and therefore by extension Fugaku—control of their biggest competitor’s business.

All it requires is for Itachi spend the rest of his life pretending to be something he’s not.

The weight of it burns tight in his throat, threatening to break free on a rising tide of bile. He longs to cast off his gilded shackles, take a leaf from Sasuke’s book and do something completely crazy.

With a sigh, he rises from the table, collecting his dishes and depositing them circumspectly into the sink. Another day of work awaits.

[youarejesting]

Key

Genre: [♤] = Angst                  [♧] = Adventure/Action  [♔] = Crack/Comedy  [♡] = Fluff  [❁] = Fantasy              [♢] = Thriller/Scary [☆] = Mature themes   [★] = Smut [➵] = Trigger warnings

Status:       [✎] = Projects             [✉] = Request   [✓] = Complete            [X] = Incomplete    [  ] = Coming soon       [∞] = On going

[Sitting in their/your lap]  ☆♤♡♔

[Saying another name]  ☆★♡♔ 

[Wearing their/your clothes]  ☆♡♔

[Fidgeting]  ☆★

[Getting your Period]  ☆

[Crying]  ♤♡♔

[Singing/rapping/dancing]

[Getting hard] ☆★

[Favorite part of you]  ☆★

[Thigh Riding]  ☆★

[Pregnancy Reveal] ☆★♡♔

[Perfect]  ♡♔

[Walking in on them]  ☆★♡♔

[Walking in on you]  ☆★♡♔

[Being walked in on together]  ☆★♡♔

[Significant other is CEO]  ♡♔♤

First time for them  ☆★♡♔

First time for you  ☆★♡♔

Honeymoon night  ☆★♡♔

Star Signs:

Star signs as [RunBTS] Star signs as [BTS songs] [Part 2]

[BTS Text Imagines]

[Bangtan Sonyeondan and the Purple Magic]

BTS go to Hogwarts 

[BTS Birthday - One Wish]  ♡♣️

[Kisaeng]  ♡♣️☆♔➵✎

[Mall Santa] NJxJMxReader ♡♔✎

[Cold]  ❁♤☆♢♧➵

[Lost Boys]  ❁♡♤☆♢♧➵

[The Check-up]  ☆➵ [A Very Bad Day]  ♡♤♔✉  [Soul Food]  ♡♤♔✉❁ [Jinnie]  ♡♤♔❁♧ [Side Dishes]  ♢❁✎ [Even the cake is in tiers] ♡♤♔❁♧

1. [Music is the spark that sets my soul on fire]  ♡✉✓            2. [Dance is the celebration of the flame]  ♡✉✓ [Baby girl]  ♡✉ [Bonnie and Clyde] Mafia au ♡♤☆♢♧✉ [Royal Pain]  ❁♡♧✎ [SEA]  ♡♤☆♧♔➵

[Feel Better]  ♡♧  [Blue Side]  ♤❁➵ [Steal my sunshine]  ♧✎ [I wish there were more good days] ♡♤✎

[Peace]  ♡✉ [Pizza]  ♡✉ [The bomb]  ☆♤♡♧♔♢➵ [Pandemonium]  ☆♤♡❁ [Namjoon the giant and his tiny friend] ♡♤❁ [Talk is Cheap]

[Death need no invitation]  ☆★♤♡❁➵  (same storyline as [Me and the ghost in number 23] but a one-shot instead of chapters) [Herb] [Herb.2]☆★♡♤♔➵ [Kitten]  ☆★✉ [Beach]  ☆★✉ [Wild space]  ☆♡❁ [Daylight]  ♡♤♔♧❁ [I Kendo it]  ♡♤♔♧ 

[Horror movies]  ♡♔ [Love Listening] [Part 2]  ☆★♤♡➵ [Stars]  ♡✉ [Dangerous]  ♡✉ [Um...]  ♡✉ [Like real people do]  ♡✉❁  [Video games] ☆★✉ [Salad]  ☆★✉ [Ramen]  ☆★✉   [Temptation] ☆★✉ [Mad]  ☆★♤♡♢➵

[I will wait (Some say)]  ♤♡ [Dude]  ♡✉ [Stretch]  ♡✉ [Icecream]  ♡✉ [Autism]  ♡✉ [Lap] Mafia au  ☆★♤✉    [Jealous]  ♡♤✉ [Actions Speaker Louder Than Words] [Part 2] [Part 3] ♡♤✎

[WAITING FOR YOU ANPANMAN!] ♡☆♔❁♧♤

Your life may be considered a little unsavory, but you would call it dangerously cozy. When a group of crime fighting young men put your plans on hold. Over run with criminals they work to protect the innocent and stop these malicious acts of violence.

[I’m Dead]  ☆★♤♡❁♔✓➵

Woken one night by memories of the past you meet a mysterious man on your balcony. He is cocky and charming and you find yourself swept up in something that is bigger than you can imagine. Why? Because he is death. And because your meeting is long overdue.

[Curse]  ♡♤❁♔✓

A modern-day fairy tale whereby seven young princes born under King Bang’s greed cannot find true love. Unless they break a special spell, called the ‘Bang curse’. In order to break the curse, Prince Seokjin must be loved by a ‘Blue’ blood, by a royal. That seems almost impossible when you have a pig nose. (based off the movie Penelope)

[Wash Out]  ♤♡❁♔♧✓

Taehyung and his best friend Y/N are Dolphin trainers at Wash Out; Marine Wildlife and Theme Park. When the nerdy marine biologist and resident veterinarian Doctor Kim Namjoon goes missing; the two friends form a ragtag team with Taehyung's rival Seokjin and a…. Fish?

[Midnight Circus]  ☆♤♧  

Traveling through the back alleys is the midnight circus. Step inside and fill your curiosity by gazing at the freaks of the night. IF YOU DARE.

[Family Secrets]  ☆★♤♡♔♧

Suga is a spy who threw away his name years ago. His latest mission requires maximum stealth he must find a wife, child and house. Taehyung aka 103899V is a child who has been the subject of extensive experiments and can now read minds, and you, you are a hitman. Each of you must keep your secrets from one another. A truly one of a kind family. (inspired by ‘Spy x Family’.)

[Choices]  ☆♤♡❁♔♧

Soulmate Au

[Quarantine]  ☆♤♡➵✓  ( ★ in separate marked chapters)

ALERT! The city has shut down!

While you happen to be visiting the BigHit building. The government puts out an Alert across the entire Seoul area. Banning anyone from stepping outside, while they disinfect the streets. But you aren’t alone, you happen to meet the international Kpop boy group ‘Bangtan Sonyeondan’.

[Femme Ft. BigBang, TXT, NCT, BLACKPINK]  ☆♡★♤♔✓  

(Femme is french for female. I mean NO offense to any of my fellow LGBTQIA+ community when I use this term) The Year is 3019. Some Females (Femme) were preserved cryogenically in an effort to prevent extinction. Using Elite computer algorithms a Femme is matched with her Male applicants to find the perfect match. Male applicants are usually selected whilst in school and housed together to create trust before they are matched with their femme. It is common for a Femme to be paired with 3-5 applicants due to the shortage and the compatibility between each. But you, you have 7.

[Me and the ghost in Number 23] ☆★♤♡❁➵✓  

(the same storyline as Death need no invitation just extended into chapters instead of a one-shot)  Moving into your new apartment on the dance academy campus, you hear is haunted. You practice your routines with the ghoulish resident in the second bedroom. Things get heated, except you know ghosts are cold. so…

[Witching Ft. Monsta X]  ☆♤❁♧✓

After your brother goes missing, you find yourself in Seoul with nothing but a prosthetic limb as the only clue to what might have happened. Circumstances lead you to a coven of seven handsome young men. But they happen to be a well-known coven that goes by the name ‘Bangtan Boys’.

[Tiny Tan - Limited Edition]  ♔❁♧♡✓

It is your first time buying proper merchandise, there are new chibi figurines and the first person to order will receive a limited edition set. But what happens when BTS have gone missing without a trace and a few days later you receive your package. The box says congratulations, you open to find your limited edition figures, they look so lifelike. OH WAIT! it’s cause they are.

[Light it up]  ♔❁♧♡☆✓

In Bightville there is never any nonsense, the scariest thing one might face is tripping at the roller-disco. But, when you move to the small town, crazy things start to happen. Suddenly people are going missing without any leads. It’s when your neighbour Seokjin goes missing that things get serious because now his friends suspect you!

[BTS Among Us] ♔❁♧♡♢☆♤➵✓

You have a crew of 11, well now 10. The captain has been killed. Whatever it is doesn’t appear to be human but from the evidence you gathered, whatever it is, is pretending to be one of you. Who is it and why?

[BTS 365 Prompts] ☆★♡♤♔❁♧➵✓

Seven boys. Seven days a week. 365 prompts. Find your birthday and read your special prompt. (feel free to use them.)

[MANIA]  ☆★♤❁✓

At eighteen everyone takes a blood test to find out their blood types. A, B, or O. Each blood type represents the person’s secondary gender Alpha, Beta or Omega and can be Dominant (+) or Recessive (-). When small thin Yoongi receives his letter he doesn’t expect A+. He knew there was no way he was an Alpha especially not a dominant.

[Hope in the Sheets]  ☆♡★♤♔➵

You held many titles: his neighbour, colleague, wingman… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things. What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

[Sly like a... ?] ♧♔❁♡♤X (☆★ in seperate marked chapters)

Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[Sparks of the Heart]  ☆★♡♤♔❁   

In a world where Humans live alongside humanoid computers. They can download software, use the Internet, send e-mails, or receive calls. A learning software helps mould their personality, habits, and knowledge, to make life much simpler. They must stay charged up in order to continue working properly. But there are a small few that are changing. Feeling.

[Seoul Mates]  ☆♡★♤♔∞

Finding your Soulmate is one thing trying to keep them in Seoul another. The Bangtan Boys each have a different Soulmate mark. Follow their journey to discover their other half.

Story request OPEN!

[BTS Asks]  ☆★♡♤♔➵∞

You ask, they answer.

[Jodo-Myeon National School of Magic]   No set storyline or story format.

[Incarceration]

The world's craftiest criminals held in the most expensive and elaborate prison. What do they do to capture your attention? 

[struwwelzeter]

Because i miss your design themed rants (it is good word here) i would like you to rank Rammstein album covers from designers point of view.

Ah, I love you. This got VERY ranty.

This is kinda hard because I tend to judge the entire packagaing/notes, and when I count that into it the ranking would be ever so slightly different. I’ll mention it for each I have Opinions (TM) on, but yeah, this is solely going on cover. I’ll only do the studio albums, not made in germany or the DVDs, or this will get too big.

7th: Rosenrot.

I know lots of you are gonna hate me for this. It’s not that I don’t like it, I do, it’s beautiful. Unfortunately it’s ... slightly lazy. It’s I think their most obvious cover and obvious feels like it’s good design but never truly is. It’s got that first idea feel, if that makes any sense. There is always that project where you go “uh can’t think of anything, but this works.” It’s not a bad thing, they clearly still knew what they were doing. It’s just ... that typical photoshop post apocalyptic composit that lost of metal/alternative bands did at some point. They all did it because it’s cool. No argument there. It’s just that I expect a bit ... more.

6th: Herzeleid

I know it’s iconic, but. The execution?! Terrible. The colours of their skin and that flower?! Too different to feel monochromatic, to same same to contrast nicely. Too much texture. What is that?! The positive bit is the placement of the typography because, neat! Most people fail at that. I like the blue-grey there aswell, how about you’d added that to their skin a little? No? Ok.

Also, this (Richard speaking):

“The bloody sleeve! What a crazy situation that was. We approved the photos in a car park without thinking what we were letting ourselves in for. When we saw what the designer had done, we freaked! We looked so… gay! All of us stripped to the waist. It was like an ad for a gay porno film. So we had to say, sort it out. Make us look straight again. Change the sleeve.”

Who in the fuck works like this?! Nevermind, I know it was a considerably younger Dirk Rudolph, but fucking hell, have some self respect, all of you. I know they didn’t know what they were doing, they probably had the management/record company comission it, and that was still the time graphic designers were seen as just pixel pushers from that time it took 3 days to layout a poster. Still. What was that brief?! Could you have sat down for 20 minutes and talk, perhaps?! Also, I hope this is how Richie learned to be the nightmare client I know he is. Don’t approve layouts in a car park, what the fuck is wrong with you.

It’s a pity because the concept? Nice. Sculpted men infront of flowers, what else do you want from life. Why crysanthemes, tho? Too textured in that macro shot. What is that photo angle?! Might try and redo that if I ever feel like it.

5th: Reise, Reise

This breaks my heart a little, because it’s my lonely island album. And it isn’t bad by any stretch. Actually, their album cover game is ridiculous, can I have that established as a general benchmark? It would make for a lot less mental break downs. The thing is ... I like the idea. Make it look like the black box, cool. The problem is the type. It makes it look like “Flugrekorder Nicht Öffnen” is the album title. To be fair, Typesetting is my main thing, and album artists get it wrong (imo) 99 out of 100 times. I wish they would have comitted more and just left the titel off and solved it with a slide in, or a sticker or something like that. It’s just a bit ... weird. What works brilliantly is that it’s very memorable, stands out on the shelf, is unusual, all of that. It’s iconic. I do like it very much but I had to place something here.

4th: Liebe ist für alle da

Now the thing with that album is that it has two covers. If I’d gone by the original one, I’d have to place it behind Reise, Reise. Everything RR has in impact, this is missing. It’s too dark, has too many pieces, it won’t stand out on a shelf. Especially not in the CD age when it was on 12x12 cm. Even on a Vinyl, it’s ... just not that impactful. Sure, the photograph is beautiful but meh. Luckily there is a second option. And that - is almost like a logo. It works as a symbol, and that makes it so strong. Less is more. Brilliant. You can draw it from memory. It’s so iconic, the kind of stuff that starts showing up in subways, drawn on the back of a seat and sprayed on walls. Tell me you never wanted to paint that on a flag and take it to a pride parade. I am sure some of us have.

I do want to mention the booklet in this, because it does bump it up a little too, because where the panorama image fails as a cover, the inside is done so beautifully with the fold out, the type setting, everything. It’s special, and done with love and it shows.

3rd: Mutter

There is just something about this that is so, so, so memorable. Everyone recognises this. If you ask anyone over the age of 20 to describe Rammstein with an album cover only to someone less familiar, is anyone gonna say anything but “they’re the band with the embryo in close up”?! Maybe this is subjective because that’s how I first got exposed to them, but I don’t think so. It’s such a powerful image. It’s both beautiful and uncomfortable, the way Rammstein as a whole and that album in particular is beautiful and uncomfortable. It’s stunning. That’s it. Unfortunately, this one falls apart inside. The went too far with the whole Matrix inspired cyber elements. It’s trendy and trendy never stands the test of time, in that it has the same problem Rosenrot has, but much worse because it’s not even done that well. They could have just used the photos and kept it raw. The type setting on the cover is as good as it gets with albums tho, so I am happy.

2nd: Sehnsucht

Ah, Sehnsucht. The most perfect band shoot they ever had. Helnwein just ... did it. I don’t know, it both defined and summed up who they are aesthetically for the longest time. It’s the visual statement that says “this is Rammstein”. It ... just looks like a band that sings about heartbreak and necrophilia is supposed to look like. Don’t you agree? How else would it look like? Even that omniously coloured beach. It’s as if the predicted the mood of True Detective, only less Hollywood. That darkness we don’t want to see, that can happen anywhere. And where they fell short with Mutter, where they added too much on to these powerful images, they just added the type. Granted, it was the 90s so it’s slightly experimental type. But unlike most type in the 90s it stood the test of time. Add the whole variable cover versions and chefs kiss! Beautiful work. Makes me happy and emotional and ugh.

1st: The White Album

I’m just calling it that now. The Matchstick. You know, good design is made up from three components only: Concept. Commitment. Execution. The concept of this is so streamlined and clean. It’s the entire Rammstein story narrowed down to a single little thing. It’s small and ordinary looking but it can become dangerous and big. It’s underestimated. A little piece of wood with a head of phosphor and calium chlorit and yet you can commit the most legendary arson. It’s the personification of the thing that has become synonymous with them: Fire. It says so much with so little. And then they comitted to that. No useless typography, a simple but oh so well done photoshoot, the simple text on white. They didn’t ad too much additional ideas on to it, they trusted that one to carry and it does. They could have done without the black and white match stick arrangements inside, although I’m not even sure if that’s not just a limited edition thing, it’s a bit too much almost. They got scared a little there. The execution is also well done, I have very little to critique, only that I feel it lacks a tiny bit of love. The thing is, the more minimalist you go, the more love you have to put into each element. I feel like the spacing of the type should have been fixed in a few places but honestly that is being very very picky. Or not. Because if it wasn’t for that, and the teeeeny tiny commitment issue, this should have been a candidate for the packaging grammy. I mean it should be even the way it is, but we all know how those fuckers ignore our boys.

I’m done. Can I use this as application? Do you think if I send them a run down of basically tearing them apart they will hire me?

[movienotesbyzawmer]

April 12: Rocky III

(previous notes: Rocky II)

Because now that Rocky has done the unthinkable and become The Champ, we want to see him tackle the next challenge… win AGAIN.

I remember seeing this in the theater with my buddy. I don't know if I liked it. I'm pretty sure I found Mr. T to be as charismatic and as terrifying as they wanted. I'm pretty sure when I bought the ticket I hesitated and asked the cashier, "hey, wait, we get to see him do some variation on the triumphant steps jogging moment, right? Otherwise never mind I'll go see Poltergeist again". If I'm paying good money for boxing sequels, I want to be assured that the formula has not been altered.

Okay let's go.

Once again, this is Un Film De Sylvester Stallone.

Slight variation on the fanfare with the title, now there's a close-up of the Important Belt Buckle Of Punchsport.

Then we see the climax of the previous movie, maybe edited slightly for time. But not very noticeably different.

That segues immediately to a montage of Rocky doing many successful beatup games, scored by the enormous pop hit "Eye of the Tiger". I suspect this isn't the last we'll hear of this number.

The montage morphs into a different story, one starring Mr. T! He's watching Rocky win stuff and he is not pleased. He can also fist-game, it seems. But the montage makes it clear that it is our hero Rocky who is the star of commercial endorsements and marriage love.

I mock but this visionary filmmaker has indeed opened this movie with energetically cinematic choices.

0:8:40 - Arcade games! Paulie goes to an arcade and it is like the arcades I went to when this movie was out and I see games that I played! But Paulie doesn't like the Rocky pinball machine. It seems he is a sore brother-in-law.

Rocky is now very dashing. Paulie is drunk and whiny about how Rocky is such a big shot now, but he has a point about how prettied up he has become.

Later that night Rocky and Adrian are in their bed and it has a rich person headboard. The director, also visibly present in front of the camera, clearly instructed the production designer to create a bed that would reflect the elite level of financial flexibility that the protagonist has reached.

So apparently Rocky has gotten himself into the strange situation where he has to do a charity boxing match against a wrestler played by the increasingly famous Hulk Hogan. I had forgotten that Hulk Hogan is in this movie. Mr. T is watching this match and he looks intensely the same way he only ever does.

Whoa Hulk Hogan is way taller than Sylvester Stallone. Is that allowed? The rules have changed! And this whole thing is not boxing it is wrestling and it is that silliness instead of boxing. This is a long scene that is the same as a typical Wrestlemania thing, all manufactured drama made to seem like fighting and true menace, but at the end we see that they are just professional coworkers and we have all learned a valuable lesson haven't we.

At a statue-unveiling, Rocky announces that he is maybe retiring. MAYBE. But then Mr. T shows up talking smack, and ladies and gentlemen we have ourselves an end-of-Act-One.

As Act Two begins, we have a scene that was an A+ homework assignment for the screenwriting teacher of Rocky III's screenwriter, who you will recall is the craftsman Sylvester Stallone. Burgess Meredith is like "I quit! I won't help you with this fight! Mr. T is too hard to beat!" But then they talk it out to advance past that scripted complication. And now Rocky and Mr. T are training for their fight in their separate worlds.

Speaking of worlds, in the World Of Rocky, the famous theme that was introduced in the score of the first movie is actually known to the characters in this movie as Rocky music. They play it for him publicly to celebrate their pride in his violence accomplishments.

Apollo Creed appears to be retired, but he is a commentator at this Rocky/T fight.

0:40:00 - They're about to do the fight, but Mr. T is so The Way He Is that the wants to fight on the way TO the fight. That results in some tumult that makes BM have health problems. It was vague what happened, it seemed like BM was shoved aside by all the mad/scared/fighting people, so then he has a conversation with Rocky in a back room where he's like, don't stop the fight even though I am suddenly vaguely frail. He sort of clutches his chest like maybe there's a heart attack but just one of those everyday ones. I have those every time I click send on a work email. My friends should not be discouraged from championship fisticuffs when that happens.

This is the first Rocky movie to be made after Raging Bull came out, and I detect some influence in the boxing footage, like with close-ups of Mr. T.

Rocky loses that fight pretty quickly, and maybe the problem is that he didn't do a pre-victory steps jog. But the movie is telling us that BM is dying on a table in the back room and that's the real problem.

BM dies and SS has done some pretty ambitious cry-acting. Then the funeral is in one of those indoor above-ground file-cabinet-style cemeteries, which is not the normal cinematic choice so nice job there.

I can already tell that we're going to have another thirty minutes of a bummed-out Rocky to fill out Act Two before it starts to look like the setup for a fulfilling climax can begin. It's what I would have told him to write if he were my student at the third-rate community college where I'm a part-time screenwriting teacher in this scenario.

Apollo Creed has shown up to try to pep-talk Rocky, and he keeps saying "eye of the tiger" because of marketing departments. But also, he is a more mature person than in the first two movies. Even though it's a character shift, I do kind of buy it. It seems like another side of the character we knew slightly.

0:59:00 - Another scene beginning with dialogue that sounds like it was improvised by people who don't know what real life is like. "Come on you're going to be late to the airport!" "Maybe you should have packed another sweater" "no in California it's not too cold". AHA THEY ARE GOING ON A TRIP TO CALIFORNIA I AM ON TO YOU ROCKY III

When they go to Los Angeles and show us people on the street and the people have been told to look and act super different so that the audience will be like, wow California is different, then, well, we are at this part of Rocky III did you know.

Although there was my earlier expectation that we were going to have a prolonged funereal story arc, but what's happened is that Apollo is invested in training Rocky so they're showing us that side of Apollo, and that's interesting. But also it's the template of "Rocky is training and he doesn't look like he's going to get there, but then inspiration will hit and he will look like he is going to get there". S. Stallone, noted filmmaker, is using montages and flashbacks to show how recent bad news moments for Rocky are haunting him. It is working.

Adrian performs a pep talk monologue for Rocky. I don't understand her point. It's like a box of those refrigerator poetry magnets jumbled up together and spoken as movie script lines. I guess the gist is "don't give up" and he starts to think maybe he shouldn't give up. Then it's a new training montage, and it's got the classic "running far now" Rocky theme so we know it's going well. The twist on the classic cheering-atop-stairs cadence is it's Rocky and Apollo on the beach, and Rocky is a little faster than Apollo and that is great news for them both.

Now we're right before the final fight, and we heard Mr. T tell a reporter that he "pity the fool". I didn't hear the rest of what he said, I was just so happy to hear him say "pity the fool".

Oh but shortly after that he is asked what his prediction is, and he looks at the camera, OUR camera, at US, and says "PAIN". Submitted without comment.

That face-to-face moment right before the fight starts, Mr. T says "imma bust you UP" and Rocky says "go for it". Advanced Scripted Dialogue with Professor Stallone.

The final fight happens, and it's mostly the same as how the other ones went except without a montage summarizing a whole bunch of rounds. I think this whole fight ended in three rounds. But it ends with the exact same music that I'm getting sick of….

BUT! There is a follow-up scene this time! It's some other day later on and Apollo and Rocky are just palling around at the gym. And THEN the movie ends. I feel that the producers must have implored Stallone, artisan that he is, to just end the movie on that climactic moment right after the fight ends, just like the other movies, but he said NO. That is not ENOUGH for a SYLVESTER STALLONE FILM. We will have an additional scene with INCONSEQUENTIAL BANTER. It will last OVER ONE MINUTE. And here we are. Rocky III: it's like Raging Bull, but better!!

I think Talia Shire is the only female actor with any lines in this movie.

One thing that's very much worth saying about this movie is that there is WAY more actual boxing in this movie. The other ones had almost no scenes where there were live boxing matches, but this one had lots. Plus that wrestling one! And as I observed, the directing style with this one also had a newfound sense of visual pop. But the story seems like it changed not at all from how it was described in the first studio board room meeting where jackass producers blurted out what Rocky III might be like.

(next: Rocky IV)

[dawninlatin]

To build a home

Part 5 of the Manorian Teacher AU

Words: 1216

Previous parts

AO3 Link

Summary: They move in together. That’s it.

A/N: Hello dear reader!I'll try not to say too much, I will just apologize for the fact that this is not edited, but it's 2am right now, and my eyes have stopped working...(I'll check it for errors tomorrow uwu) 

Also apparently my brain stopped working as well since I chose a cheesy song lyric as the title (why is finding an appropriate title harder than the actual writing??)

Anyways, enjoy:))))

«It’s perfect.»

Dorian stopped as he realized Manon wasn’t walking next to him anymore. No, she was standing a few feat away, gasping, as she stared upon a two-story house, it’s walls painted yellow, big windows with mint-green frames that would provide excellent lighting, the back facing the river, all of it partially hidden by a garden full of wildflowers.

Stepping next to his girlfriend, taking in the house, Dorian decided it was indeed perfect. Maybe a little abandoned, but with the right care…Perfect was really the only way to describe it, and he told Manon so, placing his hand on her lower back. Manon didn’t say anything, just kept staring at the house with a longing gaze.

For a moment, Dorian allowed himself to take in the sight of her. Her hair was in a loose braid, she had a big scarf wrapped around her to protect her from the chilly autumn wind, and the look on her face…She was breathtaking where she stood, surrounded by fallen leaves that were the same shade as her golden-brown eyes.

Throwing one final glance at it as if in goodbye, Manon let out a lengthy sigh and turned around to continue their walk. That is when Dorian noticed the sign sitting in one of the windows. For sale. Please contact if interested.

«Wait,» he said, taking Manon’s hand and pulling her attention back to the residence. «It wouldn’t hurt to have a look,» Dorian suggested, pointing to the sign.

But Manon only shook her head, turning to leave once more, saying, «I don’t want to tempt myself.» Dorian, still refusing to let go of her hand, raised an eyebrow in question. «I’m a high school teacher, Dorian. We both know I won’t be able to afford my own house until I’m at least forty.»

An idea formed in his mind. An idea that had been a quiet but constant whisper for weeks now. This was it, this was the moment, Dorian thought as he stepped closer, pulling Manon into his arms. He tilted her chin upwards, and leaned down to press a light kiss to her lips, a kiss she responded to by pressing her palms against his cheeks, her lips parting in silent invitation. Dorian entered her with his tongue, tasting her mouth.

Once they managed to break apart, Dorian took her face in his hands and murmured, «You could afford it if we bought it together?» She stilled, looking at him with such burning intensity, such rawness. «Move in with me, Manon.»

«You want to live with me?» she asked with a quiet voice, her face a mixture of shock and happiness and hope.

Dorian leaned in and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. «Of course I wanna live with you, you’re awesome and I love you.»

«I love you too,» Manon whispered against his lips, before she pressed a lingering kiss to them.

«And,» Dorian said, «we’re basically living together already.»

It was true. In fact, they spent so much time together Dorian couldn’t remember the last time he slept alone, which was good, because the feeling of waking up next to Manon was the best feeling in the goddamn world.

Manon let out a chuckle, saying, «We’re buying a house then?»

«We’re buying a house,» Dorian replied, grinning.

As she looked at their possible home once more, Manon let out a laugh of disbelief and utter joy, and Dorian couldn’t help but laugh with her.

-

One month later

«I think this is the last one,» Dorian said, setting a box marked sciency stuff down on the floor. «I definitely heard some weird noises come from it, but I’m not even gonna dare asking.»

Manon laughed manically from where she was sorting through various boxes, trying to find her laptop charger. Honestly it could be anywhere, from the wires n’ shit box to the I don’t know what I’m doing anymore box. Yes, that «science» box might contain some shady stuff, but she was a teacher, it was justified. Sort of.

«We’re officially moved in then?» Manon asked her boyfriend, giving him a big smile.

«I guess we have,» he answered, matching her grin.

Just a month ago, they had come across this very house while going for a walk, falling in love with it immediately. And now they were the proud owners.

The mere though of being in a relationship serious enough that they had moved in together should have intimidated her, should have terrified her, but living with Dorian, building a home, a life with him…Nothing had ever felt so right. They had been together for two years now, and no one made her feel so safe, so valued, so loved.

And this was their house, their home.

It was nowhere near done, and they had a lot of work ahead of them, but it was a start.

Her steps echoed through the empty living room as Manon walked over the hardwood floor, towards Dorian, who was leaning against a wall. «We better get started then.»

-

They’d gone to bed around midnight, both of them exhausted after a day filled with working, cleaning and unpacking the many, many boxes. Now, they we’re lying on a mattress on the floor, in the middle of the room that was to become their bedroom. The room was otherwise empty, but they’d filled the mattress up with blankets and pillows, and they’d even bought some string lights to hang in the ceiling, trying to make it as cozy as possible.

«I feel like the natural thing to do right now is to have sex in about every room, but I’m so tired,» Manon said, while simultaneously letting out a big yawn. She turned towards her boyfriend, trying to make out his facial expression in the dark. He was grinning at her, she felt it more than she saw it.

«I know,» he said, his words laced with irony. «I’m utterly drained.»

Manon gave him a playful shove. «Fuck you,» she said, but she was laughing while saying it.

While Manon had worked her ass off, carrying heavy boxes and puzzling together various IKEA furniture, her adorable idiot of a boyfriend had spent the entire afternoon meticulously organizing their now joint bookshelf. «Priorities, Manon, priorities,» he’d said, before disappearing back into his own world. Sure, they didn’t have a kitchen or a fully functioning bathroom or an actual bed, but at least their bookshelf was perfect.

And Manon had to admit, seeing her impressive sci-fi collection standing amongst Dorian’s fantasy and silly romance stories and whatnot had sent a rush of pride through her. The very same feeling she’d gotten as she’d written their names together on the mailbox.

«I missed you,» Manon sighed as she crawled into Dorian’s open arms. For the past two weeks, they’d both been so busy packing down their separate apartments, which also meant they’d barely seen one another. One thing Manon had learned was that she hated sleeping alone, and she would prefer to never do so ever again.

Dorian hummed as he brought his arms around her, holding her against his chest. Manon decided at that moment that this was where she wanted to spend the rest of her life. In this house, with Dorian.

[pocket-void]

Hi Mock!

I wish you a good morning! (It's currently 8:30 am here and I hope you are asleep wherever you are because healthy sleep schedules and all that!) 🌻

I just found out that you write, too, and I've read "A cup of coffee" and honestly, is there something you can't do? Because that was really great! I enjoyed reading it so much!! And I love your Logan in it!

And can I ask: where so you get the motivation to do all this great stuff? Drawing, writing, school? Like, I have like 5 different writing projects screaming at me because I don't work on them and yesterday I outlined yet another fic that I'll probably never write because I just don't have the motivation and - how do you do it? Because I want to write. It's the best thing in the world to me. But I just can't get myself to do it, and when I do, everything I make feels kinda... not good. Ugly, if you will.

So I guess I just want to know what I can do to get myself away from that? Because I really need to write, I'll go insane otherwise O_o

Anyway, have a wonderful day and eat a cookie!! 🌼

Y’all who can format stuff in asks will never cease to bamboozle me. O///o

But hello!! I believe it’s the afternoon where you are now! ^\\\^ (Not to worry, if there’s one thing I try to get enough of it’s sleep!)

Heidhwkfns Yes I write too but it’s incredibly on and off since I’m not as confident with it and it takes much longer than art! >\\\< I 100% want to write more often tho, but my need to accomplish stuff just finds art less time consuming. I’m really glad you like “A Cup of Coffee” because I’m quite happy with how that one turned out! ^\\\^ (And also just genuinely surprised at how many people enjoyed it) So thank you!! ;///;✨💖

So, here’s the thing. I’m just a normal person, just like anybody else! There are days where I have 0 motivation to do anything, and days where I’m way too motivated but still do absolutely nothing anyways lmao- I can’t say that my experience will work for everybody of course, but I can try to explain how I feel or how I work things out when I don’t feel like doing things. u///u

The first step is to forgive myself, because it’s going to be ok. There’s nothing wrong with having an off day, and nothing wrong with not accomplishing anything for now. There should be no guilt involved in not touching something for ages, god knows I’ve got so much in the “maybe later” idea box that I will never get to. But that’s ok! My creations will never blame me for not working on them, so in turn I promised to never blame myself for it either. And if I ever go back to complete one of them, great! But if not, that still doesn’t mean that it was a waste. Everything you make has value, finished or not.

The second is to remember that I love them. I love them a lot. I love creating, I love art, I love writing, and I love the process behind them! What you write and create will never complain if they are “not the best” or “ugly”. Their value comes from how you feel about them. Nobody else’s imput matters. So what if it’s not great? So what if it’s a mess? My terrible crayon drawing from when I was 4? Love it. Still has my whole heart. They’re on my bedroom wall to this day! (Neatly framed and hung, courtesy of my dad) I ask myself why I sat down to do something in the first place, and the answer is always going to be because I love doing it! Everything I make means something to me, no matter how bad or how small. Because at the end of the day, I made something. And it’s all the reason I need to love it.

It doesn’t matter if this doodle looks bad or this draft makes literally no sense because even if it’s not good, I did it. Even if I feel like I’m going nowhere, I know that each creation is a small step in my long long journey of improvement. It might not seem like that sometimes, like everything we do doesn’t really seem like it’s getting better any time soon, but we can never tell unless we keep doing it right? Instead of being upset that I’m not very good now, I decided to try and look forward to how good I eventually will be. I find that prospect exciting! We never know how much we grow until we get there, it’s like a happy surprise! ^\\\^✨And in the meantime, I am allowed to be perfectly happy with what I already can do. How far I’ve already come. Even if other people tell me otherwise, even if it’s true that it’s not very great, who’s to say that I will always be? Not me, that’s for sure.

I am willing to be patient for the sake of what I do, because I am willing to do it for an eternity.

There is no race in doing what I love, because I am the only one on this path. I can see other people on their own paths too! And sometimes they’re faster and have way better stamina than me, but their final destination is ultimately going to be much much different than mine, even if we’re going in a similar direction. So there is no point in trying to match them; I decide to walk at my own pace. It’s much easier for me this way. Take breaks! Drink some water. We’ve all got our places to go. ^\\\^

Third thing about getting things done is, well, getting it done! Do you know how I wrote “A Cup of Coffee”? I pain stakingly stared at it all day with frequent breaks in between, read it a ridiculous amount of times until it didn’t sound like english, and had text to speech read it back to me a couple more times just so I could make sure, because I really really really wanted to finish it. And it probably was kind of messy, hahaha. >\\\<

I’m not suggesting you do what I did btw, because it’s not even how I always write things! My other story “Table for Two” was written under a much different context. For that one, I wrote parts of it on different days. I took walks thinking about how I’d word things, how I’d imagine the scene going, and how I should pace sentences. I actually deleted the entire first paragraph and started over a few times because it didn’t sound right. Then one afternoon I decided that I wanted this story done. So I sat down and did what I could, edited a few things afterwards, and tentatively showed it to a friend. I didn’t edit it much after that, but it was done!

If I learned anything from highschool, it’s that doing something imperfectly is better than not doing it at all. I’m still a pretty picky perfectionist and a terrible procrastinator, and it’s not easy! But I would much prefer something I make to be “messy but complete”, rather than “pretty good so far but not finished”. Personally for me, getting started is the hardest part of doing anything. I have yet to find an easier way to do it, but I know that sometimes I just need to sit down and do what I can to start writing. If a sentence sounds weird, I keep going, because I can come back to it later! But if a sentence doesn’t exist, I can’t fix that without, well, writing it. o///o So I consider that a start!

I definitely understand you when you say that you can’t get yourself to write because I currently kind of can’t either. >\\\< I have outlines that I won’t ever write, I have ideas that I’m not gonna get to, and I’ve got fics that I worry won’t be as good when I write them. But maybe today I’ll sit myself down and just write one sentence. Give it a title, make a document, and stare for a lil bit. Give it a beginning. Because for me, sometimes drawing the starting line somewhere helps. Maybe it can show me what direction I need to go in just a little bit clearer. u///u

At the end of the day, the thing I say all the time is enjoy what you do. It’s just genuinely the most important part of doing anything to me. Yes it can be hard and sometimes we worry about how it’s gonna be, but we still do it don’t we? We come back and try again because we love it. Because we really can’t live without it. So what’s wrong with just...doing it?

That’s how it is to be a creator for me, I suppose. And from one to another, I genuinely wish you the best of luck on your journey!!

After all, there will be no other quite like it. u///u💖✨

[alri-xo]

Ship of Dreams (Titanic 1997 AU) | Chapter 2

Gif not mine.

A/N: Hi guuuuys so like this is chapter 2... Took me a long time to make this because this week has been a pretty rough for me personally and I genuinely feel like I needed to edit this chapter so much to deliver all the feels and stuff... Hopefully...

Pairing: Alexander Pierce x Reader, Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x Reader

Warnings: Again, age gap, language, rich people being rich people...

The Titanic finally hit more vast waters, gliding through the sea as it head out farther from land.

Bucky and Steve ran down the corridor, the enamel white walls serving a backdrop for the people cramming its sides as they tried to find their way inside.

They weaved through the people to find their quarters, they passed by many people of many walks of life. Like a Chinese man holding probably an English to Chinese dictionary to figure out what the writings meant, children getting lost and the like.

They finally found their room, its painted door looks welcoming, at least to people like them.

"This is it, Steve..." Bucky says as he opens the door, Steve following right behind him as he places his stuff on the top bed of the double decker laughing, "Who says you take top bunk?"

The two other men looked at them, as they didn't look like the original booked passengers. The chocolate man shocked as he looked up from his book and the other leaned against the steel framing of the double-decker.

Bucky neared to the man reading the book and shook his hand, as his face also painted a shook expression, "James Barnes... People call me Bucky..." he greets. He just remained silent as he his eyes gawked at him, then to his friend.

"Where the hell is Ivan?"

💎

In contrast, Y/N was at first class and not just any first class part of the ship. The grandest suite of the ship.

It had the most ornate wood carvings painted in gold at the sitting room, a wide bedroom, and it had a curtained canopy with red velvet and gold tassels, and it had a place for lounging and eating, overlooking the ocean and the sun striping light onto the furnishings and plants, serving up a tropical vibe.

They set their multitude of luggage to get settled in their temporary home. Y/N had an eye for the arts. Paintings of different mediums littered the room waiting to be hanged... Paintings by Monet and Picasso were there, as Alexander thought they were a waste of money.

Y/N rolled her eyes and she entered her room with their maid and her only friend, Carol... She has known Y/N for a good year now, but they have grown to be very close.

She made Y/N feel like a normal girl with real feelings, and not a girl wearing money for show like her mother is.

She helped Y/N ready her quarters, boxes of jewelry and even larger boxes of garments are to be organized. Upon entrance with her friend and mistress, the scent of fresh paint and a new matress fills her nose.

"It smells so brand new... It's as if they made it just for us..." she chirps happily to Y/N, making her smile, "Tonight, when I crawl into the sheets, I'll be the first!"

Y/N smiles bigger looking at her, but it only lasts for a moment. Alexander is at the doorway, looking at her like she's but prize that he won, "And tonight, when I crawl in the sheets, I'll still be the first."

Carol goes cold in fear, as she knows what Alexander can be to Y/N. She is no stranger to his passive aggressive behavior towards her or Y/N. She turns on her heel, "S'cuse me, miss..."

It's now the two of them in Y/N's room... Y/N turns her back to him as she faces the mirror as seeing him draw nearer to her.

He hugs her from behind, but her expression is bleak, "The first and only... Forever..."

All she could think of was her life. Her future with this man she doesn't even know well, claiming her as his because of her mother's terms. Also, a man twice or maybe triple her age?

His scent of cigarette and faint alcohol filled her nose as he kissed behind her ear and on her shoulder. She kissed his cheek back reluctantly, to show her devotion. Empty devotion.

💎

Reader's Point of View

Me and mother decided to explore more of the ship, as Alexander insisted. However, where ever she went she had something to say.

It was close to dusk, but a person like me rarely make the sunset grace my vision... Mother forbid it, saying I have more important things to do... And... Staring out into the open, admiring the view is not what a good wife is.

We went down the elevator to the entrance of first class, the reception area with prominent people that my mother and I know.

They know me, but I don't really care as much as she does.

A woman comes in to the entrance, a suitcase in hand, "Well, I wasn't about to wait all day for you, sonny... Now, do a lady a favor and carry those for me, please..." she asks politely, the feathers on her hat dancing in the air as she moved.

She gave mother a small smile, and mother reciprocated one... One for show... However, mother envied this woman for her looks and undeniably beautiful figure.

No corset can imitate the curves she had... Even if mother had a corset made by the finest corset maker. Nothing.

She is Natalia Romanoff, but people call her Natasha or simply, Nat. She came from a poor background, but struck luck some place west. She was someone mother called 'new money.'

We set off after our last stop, with nothing in front of us but ocean. The ship was unstoppable at this point... Neither is that wedding.

💎

Third Person Point of View

The creamy glow of the afternoon filters on the grand ship. Every bit of floor illuminated by the setting sun. Bucky and Steve made their way out of their quarters and out to the open deck, as they looked over the rails that kept them safe in the ship.

Bucky looked down at the ocean. The glassy blue sheets splitting in two as the ship glided across like a fine blade.

The captain of the ship smiled. His beard full and his hair neat under his hat, blue eyes as blue as the ocean he driving on.

He turned to his companion of dark hair, slicked back as his blue eyes as crystal clear as the water that hits the shoreline.

"Take her to sea, Loki... Open her up..." he says as his companion nods and obliges.

"Yes, Thor... And may I remind you, Captain..." he begins emphasizing the title, "You should stir her not me..." he chuckles.

Thor rolls his eyes playfully at his brother, watching him leave then watching the sunset glow in front of him.

Below the decks however, work is being robust. Men covered in soot as the doors blazed bright flames as they added more to make the ship pick up.

The shipbuilder watches the engineers and greasers work their magic, seeing everything move accordingly and how he wanted it. He built the beauty they are working in and he is proud of it, it's exactly what he wanted.

The propellers under water pick up pace as more energy was introduced to the ship. They chopped through the water making it glide faster.

On the deck, Bucky's hair was blown by the wind, the scent of fresh air and sea filling his lungs as a big smile on his face appeared. Steve was holding on to his hat as he looked into the horizon.

Captain Thor Odinson looks at the same view, as if feeling triumphant and free. The massive ship his steed as his brother looked through the glass as they rode above the deep sea.

Steve smiles, looking at the water and asking Bucky to do the same, they spot two dolphins running with the ship. Their forms going up and down, above and under the sea as a pod of dolphins appear near the front of the ship.

Steve then stares through the horizon, the sunsparkles on the ocean beam warm light like gold under the slow setting sun.

"I can see the Statue of Liberty from here..." he grins happily as the wind in his face blows, "Very small, of course..."

Bucky smiles back then stands higher near the hand rails that keep them prisoner in such paradise, "I'M THE KING OF THE WOOORLD!!!"

💎

Reader's Point of View

The next day came like a fast turning of a page. My first night in the ship was pleasant, as if the waves rocked me back and forth on its calm waters. The scent of everything new made it feel even nice, knowing that all of it can be as comfortable as can be for me.

We were having a meal with two of the people who are the most important passengers of the ship. Tony Stark, the person who named the ship RMS Titanic, the ship builder, Bruce Banner.

They collaborated, Mr. Stark had the vision and Mr. Banner did the mission to make the Titanic into a reality.

"She's the largest moving object made by the hand of man in all of history..." Mr. Stark begins to say, "And our master ship builder, Mr. Banner here, designed her from the keel plates up."

He looked down and smiled shyly, not wanting the attention, "Well, I might have built her, but it was Mr. Stark's idea... He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy will never be challenged... And here she is..." he says slapping the table proudly, "willed into solid reality."

Natasha looked at the two other men and cocked her brow "Why are ships always being called 'she'?" She asks jokingly, "Is it because men think half the women around have bigs sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"

I smiled as they laughed, mother being quite amused of Natasha's words, "Just another example of men setting the words their way..."'

Admittedly, Natasha is witty and fun, but she is not everyone's cup of tea. Especially with my mother and her group of friends.

The waiter approached our table and thankfully, he had matches. I lit my cigarette and placed the thin end of its holder, savoring the smoke down my throat.

"You know I don't like that, Y/N..." my mother tuts quietly, making me look at her and glare. I blow smoke as she backed away slowly.

"She knows..." Alexander mumbled, taking away the cigarette and stubbing it out on the ash tray, as he said our orders. What he wants, I'll also get. As if I had a choice sometimes.

"So, you're gonna cut the meat for her too, Alexander?" Natasha asks smirking.

Alexander ignored her question, turning to the other men at the table and at my mother. In all honesty it might be the only thing that is left for him to do to me at this point.

They discussed about why the Titanic was named as such, being synonymous with everything that is big and grand, but secure and safe. Me being bookish and a person who is as educated as everyone on this table, it made me want to bring up something big.

"Do you know about Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of interest to you, Mr. Stark..."

Mr. Banner choked on his meal, holding back a laugh and it made mother glare at me.

"Y/N what has gotten into you-" I cut mother off as soon as she heard my chair creak on the floor.

"Excuse me..." I muttered as I walked away and out.

Natasha's Point of View

Well, that was rough.

Katherine's eyes widened, mortified by her daughter's actions. Definitely not what a mother wants to see in a daughter like Y/N.

At least for Katherine.

Also, as a wife for a man such as Alexander is such a leap. She seriously could've gotten any man for her daughter. Someone her age, perhaps? Not someone who could possibly be dead after the wedding night...

Oh, I'm just teasing...

"Seems like you got a pistol in your hands, Pierce... Think you can handle her?" I asked nonchalantly... It is reality what I'm saying... Since when did I fake it like the other women on first class?

"I guess I should mind what she's reading from now on..." he grins half heartedly as she follows Y/N out.

Jolly good show... Jolly good show indeed.

💎

Bucky's Point of View

"Look, daddy... Look at the birds!" The little girl says happily looking at the seagulls flying above the ocean, her father supports behind her as she is seated on the metal railing.

The energy they give off reflects on my ongoing sketch. Innocence and certainty, wisdom and care. A different aura from what I used to draw while I was some place else.

Steve looks over my shoulder, seeing what I have came up with and gave me an appreciative nod. He taught me how to draw and sketch, and now I am as hooked to drawing as he is.

Our two roommates hung out with us breathing the fresh air and the scent of the ocean. The bliss stopped when we heard the scent of dog poop in the air.

We looked up to see that the ship staff brought the dogs from first class to take a shit on the deck for third class, and with one of them having the most wrinkled face it would pass as something not of this earth.

"That's totally normal here... First class dogs come down here to take a shit..." One of them says, making me and Steve laugh a little...

"Yeah... Tops the scent of the room next to ours every night..." his friend says making him laugh, "Well, maybe the stink of the money they all have too..."

The guy from the staff glared at him, making them stop laughing as he left with the dogs.

I shrugged, "That's when we know where we rank in the scheme of things..." and Steve nods in agreement.

Then silence filled the air for a moment, the sound of the water and the squawking of seagulls in the horizon was our music.

"I'm Sam Wilson... This is my friend, Peter Parker..." he says stretching out his hand to shake mine and I shake his.

"James Barnes... Bucky for short..." I greet back, but his face paints curiosity, "Short for Buchanan..."

"Steve Rogers..." Steve greets as he exchanges handshakes with Sam and Peter, as I focus back to my drawing, the final strokes left.

I close my leather sketch pad and slip my pencil inside of it with a sigh. Surely, this ship is a work of art as everyone says it is... It's no lie...

I looked up to look around and I see her. Oh, she's an angel....

Who looks like that amongst all the people here? She's made by the gods.

She glowed under the sun, her dress shines and ripples in the wind. The silk on her skin hugging every curve and edge she had perfectly as her eyes looked over the railing.

Her cheeks flush as the heat made them redden, sun kissed. Her (y/h/c) hair in a neat updo with tendrils romantically falling freely framed her gentle face.

She looked at me, her (y/e/c) eyes sparkling and dolly, but expressive with a sense of distress for someone who had the world wrapped around her finger. Then she looked away again at the horizon.

Then all of a sudden, an older man approaches her... Her father, perhaps? Then he wraps his arms around her, but she tries to push him away.

Oh, he's her lover... But, they bicker a little as the man continues to try and persuade her.

I wish I could've looked at her longer. I was, but I wish she could've looked at me just as long.

"Oh forget it, Barnes... You'd rather have angels fly out your ass to be next to the likes of her..." he says making Peter and Steve laugh. I ignore them as I focused on the lady at first class, now storming back inside to her little world to live her little life as a first class passenger...

When will I ever see her again?

<- Previous | Next ->

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and I do apologize that it's long with no page break. Once again, I hope I did this justice and I hope y'all stay safe. ily

-Alri

Taggies 💕 (DROP ME AN ASK IF YOU WANT IN)

@witchymegg @amisutcliff @luna4501 @likeit-or-leaveit @underworldqueen13 @theaussiedragon @vhsbarnes @uglipotata72829

[eeveevie]

truth or dare

All Rosie wants to do is work on her journals. All Butch wants to do is play Truth or Dare. The truth? Rosie’s never been kissed. Do either dare to make the first move? 

Unprompted, but I needed some self-indulgence in these uncertain times. Also, Rosie needed a smooch. Stealth edit: this is my lucky #99 story on Ao3 !!!

Butch DeLoria x Rosie Sheridan (Lone Wanderer)

 2885 words | [read on Ao3]

Finding a quiet place to hideaway in Rivet City was one of the most difficult tasks Rosie faced every time she visited the repurposed warship—even in the privacy of her rented room, she was distracted by the constant creaking of metal and the echoing footsteps of the guard patrol. By comparison, it made her long to be under the rusted rooftop in Megaton, the closest thing she had to call home nowadays. But beggars and wanderers couldn’t be choosers, even if all she wanted to do that evening was concentrate on her journal and travel notes.

Rosie tried to focus on the stack of reports she had received from Scribe Rothchild, wanting to better understand the different vaults in the area but all she could hear was the repetitive sounds of somebody pacing outside her door. It didn’t match the usual rotation of the Rivet City guards and she had only one guess as to who it could be. Just as she thought to move and secure the lock on the bulkhead it creaked open to reveal her traveling companion—Butch—just as she thought.

He was in a chipper mood, holding a half-empty Nuka-Cola bottle, though his swagger told her that he had been partaking in a different kind of beverage. Rosie frowned, hiding her disappointment in her palm as she diverted her gaze back to her work. She had better things to do than babysit or worry about his drinking habits.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, leaning over her shoulder to peer at her journal. Butch rested one hand on the desk, effectively boxing her in as he bent at the waist for a closer look. Beneath his usual musk of cologne and hair product, she could smell the booze and cigarette ash. She clenched her jaw, more annoyed with him than usual.  

Even though the two had taken remarkable strides in creating a friendship from the ground up, Rosie was still in turmoil over the feelings she had for him. No matter what she did to convince herself otherwise, or how much time she believed would need to pass, the stupid little crush had developed into something much stronger. Matters were only made worse when Butch would do something uncharacteristically kind, fueling the flame in her heart. Stranger still, she found herself equally attracted to his tantrums—the little bouts of pouting that resulted from their petty arguments.

Worst of all, she became jealous of any attention he gave to other girls and envious of how easy it was for others to chat him up. Rosie knew she wasn’t the most charismatic person, but now that she was saddled with the weight of those emotions, her insecurities had skyrocketed. It all circled back to her frustration with Butch and how he seemed so carefree and unaware of how his presence affected her.  She wondered if his actioned were done intentionally to frustrate her. He wasn’t her childhood bully anymore—this was a completely new form of torture.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” she deflected, avoiding his stare as he looked at her profile. She hadn’t meant to sound so rude but hoped her tone would send him back on his way. Instead, Butch took it as an invitation to linger, testing her patience. Why couldn’t he have slipped back into his old, stubborn ways and taken offense? Had he grown too soft in traveling with her?  

“Marketplace is closed,” he explained, straightening. He took a long sip of his soda. “What’s wrong with hangin’ with my best gal?”

Rosie shifted in her seat, the term of endearment had lost its touch lately, even with the affectionate gestures. She would’ve preferred any other nickname if he was going to be sarcastic with her. Rothchild’s notes became a scrambled blur as she crafted a good enough response, one that was sure to dismiss him.

“Wouldn’t you rather be at the Muddy Rudder, getting drunk with Trinnie?” she asked, this time tilting her chin up to steal a quick glance. “Or have you exhausted that option?”

Trinnie reminded Rosie a lot of Susie Mack in the way the girl hung off his every word and became excited when she saw him visiting the city. Rosie rolled her eyes at the irony of it all, that she had ended up in a similar position. At least she was better at hiding how she felt—she hoped.

Butch’s brows furrowed in frustration as he scowled. “I don’t—” he stomped away but didn’t leave the room. “I didn’t.”

Rosie turned in her chair to watch as he deposited himself right on the edge of her bed, leaning back on one elbow. The pose was too suggestive for her and she shot her eyes to the ceiling, pressing her lips into a flat line. “Oh?”

“What’s gotten into you lately?” he questioned in stark tone reminiscent of their earlier traveling days. “You’re pickin’ fights and pouting all the time at me like I did something wrong.”

He looked at her, steely blue eyes trained on her as he emptied the last drops of cola from the bottle, tapping his fingers absentmindedly against the glass. “What’d I do this time? I didn’t get wasted like that one time, ya see?” He waved his free hand over his body, but she wasn’t going to look at his appearance and how he was practically draped across her bed. “Or ya’ still finding ways to be mad about all the teasing and bullying?”

In the quiet, she reluctantly flicked her eyes to find him looking like a neglected and kicked puppy. Worse than when she forgot to give Dogmeat a bath after a bout with raiders (usually the dog was happy to be covered in blood and guts). Butch sat there, picking at the Nuka-Cola label with a pout, bottom lip sticking out.

“I said I was sorry,” he mumbled, sounding more dejected than ever.  

Rosie chewed on her bottom lip—she hated that the appearance of him crestfallen and perched on her bedsheets was very alluring, especially when he glanced up at her from under his lashes—no way he hadn’t done that on purpose. She sighed, knowing it was wrong of her to lash out when everything that was wrong had to do with her. He didn’t deserve that, especially when yes—they had made their amends and started fresh when first joining up. She was just a young, foolish teenager with emotions she wasn’t ready to face.

“I uh—” she twisted her hands in her lap, darting her eyes from the books spread across the desk and back towards the ceiling. She wanted to have a valid, believable excuse for her outlandish behavior so that maybe he would forgive her. “I’ve been distracted.”

“Yeah,” Butch softly chuckled. “I can tell.”

He titled his head back and forth in thought, pointing the bottle to her. “Take a break, Stitches. You could use a little fun.”

She crossed her arms tightly across her chest, irritated by the suggestion—it wasn’t the first time he had pointed out her boring disposition, but she couldn’t help her inner nature. Rosie was quiet, reserved and her idea of a good time was reading medical textbooks and solving math problems. Butch’s idea of entertainment usually involved some kind of risk that bordered on illegal, scheming up ways to break his boredom. He was stubborn, steadfast in his ways to get her to take life a little less seriously, to smile and laugh more if only so he could see it.

“You’re cute when you smile, Stitches.”

He had told her one evening, a little too tipsy on beer at Moriarty’s, a statement that had her red in the face for hours. Reminiscing on it had her blushing then and there too, something that Butch noticed quickly. He snickered, stretching a little further across her bed—it was certainly large enough for the two of them, but she had refused to share the space, resigning him to the common rooms.

“Rosie, your face is rosy,” he teased, barely able to get the words out as he continued to laugh. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “What kind of fun are you thinkin’ about?”

She scoffed, clutching the back of the chair to ground herself. “Unlike you, my thoughts aren’t permanently in the gutter.”

Butch shrugged, clearly not believing her—she wouldn’t either, with the way her face was burning. He placed the empty Nuka-Cola bottle on the bedsheets beside him and spun the glass, though the fabric prevented it from moving effectively. “Spin the bottle?”

Rosie glanced to see the open end was facing her and sharply turned her head away, focusing on a dark, rusted spot in the corner. She didn’t even want to think about how playing the game would work with just two people. “No!”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” he whined. She heard him shift abruptly. “Hey, wait—you never played, have you?”

Those types of games in the vault were usually reserved for the parties she wasn’t invited to—the same kind of parties in which Amata was dared to spend seven minutes in heaven in the utility closet with Freddie Gomez. Rosie had a wealth of information, but lacked firsthand experience leaving her woefully embarrassed. What she wouldn’t have given to have a normal teenaged life growing up in Vault 101.

“Think back to those circles you sat in, Butch,” she replied, not meaning to sound so despondent. “Ever remember seeing Nosebleed as the bottle spun around?”

Her frown increased as a fleeting thought crossed her mind that he must have kissed every girl in the vault—the rumors certainly had painted him as a player, as a Casanova—yet there she was, still unable to get over how she felt.

“Fine then,” he finally replied. “Truth or dare?”

Rosie whipped her head at him, wide eyed. “I am not playing that game with you either.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, resting his head in his palm. “’Fraid you might reveal something to the Butch-man?”

Her patience was wearing thin, but she knew there would be no getting rid of him unless she humored him. Baring the risk of him escalating the games or wagers, she relented with a sigh, shaking her head. “Do not dare me to do anything gross or illegal.”

“You’re no fun,” he muttered, but regarded her with a low smile. “Okay. Truth or dare.”

She was reluctant to go first but still answered. “Truth.”

Butch’s grin increased and her stomach tightened—somehow, she had chosen something worse than dare. His question was very direct. “Have you ever been kissed?”

Rosie stiffened, and blinked at him silently. Her mind had gone blank at the sheer horror of what was happening—Butch DeLoria was confirming that she was the hopeless nerd he always thought she was. She scrambled to think of a passable lie, of a close call she could claim was really her first kiss but all she could think about were all the times they had managed to get close without anything occurring. Too much time passed without her answering, and his eyebrow quirked up as he let out a breathless laugh.

“Oh, I knew it,” he pushed himself, so he was sitting up on the edge of the bed. “Explains everything!”

“You—you asked that on purpose!” she yelped, turning away from him and hiding her face in her hands out of mortification. Knowing Butch, even with his somewhat changed ways, she’d never hear the end of his teasing over this learned information. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

“Come on now, Rosie,” he encouraged. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just—”

Something in the tone of his voice had her alarmed. Apprehensively, she glanced back to find him anxiously rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding her stare. That, she didn’t expect. He seemed to be mulling over his next move, the next right thing to say to make the situation right. His eyes met hers and slowly, he smiled.

“Ya’ know, if you want, I could kiss you,” Butch said it like it made perfect sense in his mind. “Get that first kiss out of the way so you know what you’re doin’”

She stared at him, half in disbelief, half in a daze, but mostly in shock. Was he suggesting that…they kiss? Rosie considered that the person she was staring at wasn’t Butch DeLoria at all and the man Amata had released from the vault was some kind of replacement. No way would the bully she had grown up with for nineteen years switch from being repressed by her presence to suddenly wanting to lock lips. It didn’t matter that they were friends now, it still didn’t make any logical sense in her brain. Even if he sounded sincere, even if it was secretly what she wanted, Rosie couldn’t agree—not like this.

“I don’t want to kiss you under some ridiculous circumstances,” she shook her head, busying her hands in hair. “Not when we’ve been playing a stupid game, or—or when you’ve been drinking.”

“I’m not drunk,” he flatly reassured. “Maybe it’s you that needs the liquid courage.”

Rosie disagreed. “I don’t need alcohol to kiss you.”

“Oh yeah?” Butch smirked, mood perking up. “So, you’re saying you do want to kiss me?”

“Don’t—” she huffed, unhappy he was twisting her words. He was the one that brought up the subject in the first place. “You seem eager to do the same!”

He furrowed his brows, laugh a little forced. If anything, it looked like he was blushing. “I dare you to do it right now. Lay one on me, Stitches.”

“I didn’t pick dare. It isn’t my turn, it’s yours!” she argued, once again feeling red in the face. Butch nodded at her, egging her on. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

She had never felt so emboldened. “Kiss me.”

It was Butch’s turn to look shell-shocked as he stared at her, wide blue eyes hazy as his thoughts caught up to the moment. A boy who usually had a snappy remark for everything and everybody was dead silent, unmoving before her. Unsurprisingly, she was disappointed, but hid her emotions well. Abruptly, she stood, determined to remove herself from the room and situation if nothing was going to happen. Rosie would need to be alone to decompress and deal with the ache in her chest. Behind her she heard his feet meet the ground as he scrambled to follow.

“Hey, wait—”

Despite her frustration, she turned half-way to meet him and was surprised when his hand pulled on her wrist, dragging her closer to him. His other hand quickly found her chin, angling her head up just in time for his lips to crash into hers. The first contact was rough—propelled forward by the movement of their bodies—but slowly, Rosie relaxed, daring to reach out and rest her hand against his chest. Reflexively, she clutched at his leather jacket, softly humming her approval. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, too focused on the way Butch’s lips molded around hers the longer they kissed.

When they did sperate, she felt her entire body radiating warmth, embarrassment for a completely different reason now. She had just been kissed—her first kiss—by Butch DeLoria. Instead of even trying to run away she stared up at him sheepishly, amazed to find a similar, dazed look in his eyes. His lips quirked up to the side in a smirk as he slid his hand to cup her cheek, tangling his fingers into her dark hair. The second time he kissed her was far more chaste, at least for the first few moments before he dared to run his tongue along the seam of her mouth, a little sound echoing from his throat when she gradually parted for him. He didn’t rush her, the kiss remaining slow yet far more fervent than the first—his other hand moving from her hand to her waist to slide her closer to his body.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, in need of air. Again, the two gazed at each other, this time far more fascinated by the situation as reality sunk in, but they didn’t separate. Rather, they stayed closely nestled together, mimicking each other’s goofy smiles.

“Your turn,” he breathed.

“Truth,” she answered, quietly. She almost forgot that they had been playing a silly game.

Butch combed his fingers through her hair, eyes darting down to her lips before locking with hers again. “Now that you’ve got some experience, whadd’ya you think about kissing?”

“More research will need to occur for me to make a determination,” she answered, knowing full well of how she sounded.

“God Rosie, you’re such a nerd,” he laughed against her mouth, moving away if only to flash a wink. “I’ll be your test subject.”

She giggled, feeling more alive and normal than she had in weeks. She didn’t realize it was possible to feel so energetic, the way her heart was racing. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Butch smiled, already leaning closer.

Rosie met him halfway, unable to contain her excitement. She would never tire of asking him now that she could. “Kiss me again.”

[wildlyminiaturesandwich]

I'm curious to hear your thoughts on the announcements from Maxis Monthly? Did the Game Changers know about or have any say in the rebrand?

Ok so I’m gonna answer your last question first lol

The title “Game Changer” is definitely a little confusing because it implies that we actually change the game in some way, but we don’t. Well, most of us don’t. I think some of the bigger Game Changers have a little sway because they know the team personally and have been to the Sims Headquarters and stuff, but for the most part all we do is get early access so that we can provide our individual communities with a glimpse of the pack that goes a little more in depth than just trailers, that way people can see what’s included and decide if they want to buy it, and hopefully bring more people to the franchise in the process. And we definitely didn’t have anything to do with the rebrand, we heard about it at the same time everyone else did.

As for your first question, I’m gonna put it under a cut for a couple reasons: [a] Listen, I have opinions lol and [b] for anyone that is like me and is sensitive to colour contrast, I don’t want anyone getting a nasty headache or sore eyes if they don’t have to. Let’s do this!

So first off, LOVE that they’re adding over 1000+ decorative world objects! There have been so many things over the years in different packs that I’m sure we’ve all seen and been like “Why didn’t you let us use that!?”, and now we’ll be able to! Sucks that some creators spent so much time liberating those things for us only to now have their work be obsolete though 😕

I also think the Create-A-Sim Story Mode looks interesting. I don’t like the idea that you can’t change the sims aspiration and traits though; they’re locked in once you’ve finished answering the questions. I’m not sure how much use I’ll get out of it, as I tend to either pick specific traits based on my sim’s backstory or randomise them, but it’s nice to know the option is there and answering the questions might be fun to see what kind of sim you get!

Now, onto the rebrand.

I just don’t understand it!

Listen, I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t like change; I don’t do well with big changes at all. But this isn’t about that, this is about trying to understand why EA felt the need to rebrand The Sims 4 (which I can’t work out) and why they chose those colours, and I just… don’t understand.

I mean I understand, they’re trying to attract a younger audience with bright shiny things. But I don’t UNDERSTAND, you know? I don’t understand what prompted them to do it now, after almost five years?! Why did they feel the need to change something that didn’t need to be fixed at all? And why they went with this particular colour scheme! It’s so unnecessarily bright! As a graphic designer I’m genuinely horrified by the colours they chose and as a consumer of their product, I’m a little annoyed that they spent time and money on this when there are other things that are more important (like things that are actually broken) that keep getting the “We don’t have the resources” excuse or just flat out ignored.

Here’s the difference between the original box arts and the rebranded ones:

That blue is GOD AWFUL! It’s like Tumblr’s new blue background; I literally have a headache from looking at it! It doesn’t fit with the style of the rest of the game at all. And they claimed in the stream that the new box art designs really make the render sims “pop”… they really don’t. The backgrounds of the DLC packs are way too busy. I just I don’t understand why they couldn’t just stick with the nice clean, minimalist look they had before; it was truly a timeless design. A design that actually made the render sims pop and didn’t detract from them at all with busy backgrounds and headache-inducing colours!

Oh and can we just talk about the new base game box art render for a second? I love it, I really do. It looks cool and I’m excited to get to learn more about these new sims that are being added and according to the Gurus in the stream, all of the stuff on those sims is being added to base game (the stuff that’s not already base game that is). I’m excited about that pink hair BUT take a good look at all the other stuff… look familiar? That’s because most of us have already paid for that stuff. The jacket on the pink haired sim is from Get Famous, the beanie on the sim next to her is from Get to Work, the hair under the beanie is from Dine Out, the bracelet on the sim with the camera is from Seasons, the chef uniform in the middle is from Get to Work, the jacked on the sim up the back with the phone is from Get Together, and the sleeveless hoodie on the sim to the left of that is from Fitness Stuff. They’re all recolours of stuff from other packs. I’m all for free content, because hey it’s free, but I really wish they wouldn’t make things from other packs base game; people paid for that stuff.

Side note: I feel sorry for the people who collect the psychical copies of the games, because unless they can afford to buy new copies of all the packs, any new packs aren’t going to match their old ones now. And also the people who got tattoos of the old plumbob 😕

Which brings me to the plumbob, and yet another before and after:

The new plumbob is whatever; I don’t hate it, I just prefer the original. It matched the one in game and suited the artstyle of the whole game really well, whereas the new one looks too much like The Sims 3 and doesn’t suit The Sims 4 at all. It’s also not going to match the plumbob in-game anymore as for some reason they decided not to change that one? I mean it wouldn’t matter to me if it did because I always have my default file edited to get rid of it, but it just makes no sense to leave the original in there if you’re changing everything else.

New box art, plumbob and stuff aside, the thing that probably annoys me the most about this rebrand is that the pack icons and colours are changing. I get that they probably ran out of colours to choose from for each pack, but the fact that it’s so hard to tell the difference between the colours for the game and stuff packs is gonna be a problem for anyone who has difficulty distinguishing between different colour tones. Mr Sandwich, for example, couldn’t tell that there was a difference between the two, even after I pointed it out to him. Why didn’t they make one of them yellow?!

I personally used to find things from expansions in the catalogue by looking for the colour of each pack icon. “I know the thing I’m looking for is from Get Famous, so I’ll just keep scrolling until I see a pink icon”… well, not anymore:

All expansion packs are now teal, all game packs are now blue (a different blue than the box art blue I might add 😩), and all stuff packs are green; the only difference is the icon on them. And yes, I’m aware you can filter things by pack, that’s what I used to do for stuff and game packs because they were always the same colour, but if I’m just scrolling through say the curtains category, it’s a lot quicker to just scroll once or twice looking for an icon colour than it is to go into the little menu, click on “packs”, scroll down to the pack I want and choose it.

The new pack icons and colours also look awful on the main menu. Here’s a little before and after again:

Urgh that blue! There as nothing wrong with the original menu but now we’re gonna have the god awful blue again… not the point, sorry. Look at those icons! They’re too… saturated? busy? both? I dunno what but they look awful, especially on the blue background! At the very least they should have just made them one solid colour instead of trying to carry over the crystallized look.

And lastly the loading screen….

Again with the gross colour combinations and the background is just plain boring. The old one is much nicer and easier on the eyes.

Maybe it’s because I’m old and not the target audience for this new look but honestly I JUST DON’T GET IT! I understand that EA are trying to attract more people to the game, obviously younger people, but I really don’t think alienating and confusing the people who currently play your game in favour of luring in new people is this is the way to go about it.

Thankfully I’ve already seen a couple of the amazingly talented modders in the community say they’ll do everything they can to either give us back the original menus and loading screens or make a less obnoxious version as soon as they can, so I’m just gonna keep my fingers crossed that it won’t be too difficult for them to do and look forward to downloading those mods so I can play without getting a headache every time I have to look at the main menu and loading screen 😅

NOTE: Before anyone starts shouting at me for “being negative about a free update” just note that anon asked for my thoughts on it; these are my thoughts. If you like the new look that’s great, I’m really happy for you! But anon wanted my honest opinion and I’ve given it. Will this rebrand stop me playing the game? Of course not! The game is still the same no matter what the box art and menus look like, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them and it doesn’t mean I can’t express my disappointment about it all, especially if a follower asks for my opinion about it.