#also to be clear i love my friend she's great we just fundamentally disagree about musicals and that's okay lmao

[littlespoonevan]

was talking to a friend who hates musicals and had a moment where i suddenly understood why the majority of people who say they hate musicals probably hate them. she was saying how the songs take you out of the story because you're not really listening to the lyrics. and i was just so confused??????????????? because i always listen to the lyrics???? like okay sure i might not pick up on every word or line on a first listen but i'm definitely paying attention to them bc that's the story???????? like telling the story through music is what a musical is????? if you're only listening to the dialogue in between and mentally checking out when a song starts of course you won't like it you're missing 75% of the plot?????????????? and it was just one of those moments where i was like i know we all consume media and literature differently but jfc do we really consume media and literature differently

#the amount of musical lyrics that will haunt me forever how could you hate that????????? #anyway i'm convinced now all those people who are like 'uwu it's not realistic to randomly burst into song!!!1!!1' are #1) just being stubborn by refusing to accept the conventions of the genre #and 2) don't realise they're missing half the fucking story bc they're not paying attention askjdfh #also to be clear i love my friend she's great we just fundamentally disagree about musicals and that's okay lmao #mine

[gukyi]

the art of the rom-com | jjk

summary: FILM395, the art of the rom-com, was supposed to be an easy a with one of your favorite professors, but it’s not. it’s actually a sisyphean torture that comes in the form of fellow film student jeon jungkook, who has no problem responding to every one of your discussion posts about the consumerist ideals underlying every romance movie with his own paragraphs on the beauty of love like the hopeless romantic he is. and when the two of you find yourselves partnered up for your final project, which is to create a short film on rom-coms, jungkook decides to take it upon himself to show you what love is really like.

{enemies to lovers!au, college!au}

pairing: film major!jungkook x film major!reader (female) genre: fluff, comedy, slight angst, this is literally a rom-com in fic form word count: 33k warnings: college alcohol consumption, discussion board posts, emotionally constipated characters, film major shenanigans, blonde jungkook who’s also in a hip hop dance troupe, miscommunication, if you hate rom-coms do not read this fic

a/n: i am so so so excited to share this monster of a jungkook fic (tho let’s be real, 30k is pretty standard for me now ;-;) with you all! this is basically rom-com trash, but it’s my rom-com trash, and i hope you all enjoy!

on a sadder, less exciting note: after this fic i will be taking an extended writing hiatus until at least the beginning of may. my semester is picking up and i unfortunately just don’t currently have any upcoming fics planned for you guys. i hope you understand!! maybe i’ll do a couple of ask games here and there to see if anything piques my interest, but other than that please do not expect major works of writing for a while. love you all!

500 Days of Summer is a movie you all have probably seen before. That being said, I encourage you to respond to this discussion board from a film perspective as opposed to a viewer’s perspective. How did 500 Days of Summer alter the classic narrative of boy-meets-girl? Do you think it was a smart move, on the parts of Webb, Neustadter, and Weber, to do so? Why or why not?

Jeon Jungkook on February 12th at 9:53PM

I thought that the change in the boy-meets-girl narrative that had been popularized by rom-coms of the 1990s definitely contributed to his popularity and its attractiveness towards viewers in general. The film makes it clear that the story does not have a so-called happy ending, but despite that, it still brings into discussion the idea of love and soulmates and true connection. And that’s important, because despite the film’s not-so-happy ending, it makes it a point to emphasize that those things are real. That love is real. I thought it was an excellent move on the parts of the writers and director, because they both broke standards in terms of happy endings in rom-coms and they stayed true to the message at hand. 

Y/N Y/L/N on February 12th at 10:29PM

I have to disagree with Jungkook. It’s obvious the movie is not going to have a happy ending because Tom is so obsessed with the version of Summer he has created in his head that he doesn’t even see who the real girl is anymore. It doesn’t have a happy ending not because they weren’t soulmates, or because their love wasn’t right. They break up because what Tom wants and what Summer wants are fundamentally different, and Tom just can’t accept the fact that Summer doesn’t love him the way he wants her to. In a desperate quest to keep her, though, he manifests this version of her and replaces the actual Summer with it, ultimately destroying their relationship. How could viewers ever have faith that Tom would eventually get his happy ending if the only proof of his commitment to relationships they have is him manufacturing a different girl to fall in love with?

When you walk into class, Jeon Jungkook is already there. 

He sits in the front row, the seat closest to the door in your puny little classroom, much too small for twenty-students to fit comfortably, let alone watch movies on the pull-down projector screen above the chalkboard. You’re convinced he’s chosen that seat just so he can grin at you whenever you walk in the room, always later than him because apparently, he has nothing better to do with his time than show up to class early and smirk at you when you arrive. 

As you shuffle past his seat towards your own—second row, middle of the room, centered with the lecturer’s podium—with your usual scowl drawn neatly across your face, Jungkook says, overly bright and cheery, “Good morning, Y/N.”

The sound of his voice alone is enough to make your nose scrunch up in further disgust. “Shut up,” you grumble back, stuffing yourself into your chair and pulling out your laptop. One row in front of you and five seats to the right, you see Jungkook chuckle. 

Glowering, you open up your Notes document for the class and try to avoid staring at Jungkook’s side profile, the way he’s slouching lazily in his seat, and what looks to be a lengthy paragraph on his computer screen, a task that proves to be particularly difficult because he happens to sit in the exact spot you have to look in order to see your professor enter the room. What the hell is he even writing, anyway?

He straightens up the moment she does, cheerful as always as she smiles at everyone. “Good morning, everyone.”

The lot of you respond with halfhearted smiles and waves. 

“I can just feel the enthusiasm radiating throughout the room,” she jokes, clenching her fists together in success. At least that gets a couple of you to laugh. “Which is great, because before we get to anything today, we’re gonna talk about the final project.”

You smile to yourself, immediately pulling up the copy of the syllabus you had downloaded to your desktop, scrolling right down to where she had outlined information about the final project in big, bolded letters. There are a lot of reasons you’ve taken this class, not the least of which is the fact that you have had Professor Pollack three times prior to this and she’s loved you in every class, but the final project was definitely one of the major selling points. 

Pollack pulls up a more detailed final project document on the projector as she steps out from behind the podium. “As you guys know, your final project is a thirty-to-forty minute short film involving rom-coms. You guys have a lot of freedom, it can be a rom-com, it could be a documentary about rom-coms, anything. It just needs to involve the topic of rom-coms somehow. I know a lot of you have actor friends who would be more than happy to have a star-crossed lovers fling or whatever. Go wild. Just keep it PG-13, because I can’t in good faith have nude bodies of your fellow college students on my screen.”

You snort to yourself. Makes you wonder how many times Pollack has seen sex scenes of college students on her screen before. Too many, probably. 

Unintentionally, your eyes drift over to Jungkook. He seems to be working on that hefty paragraph of his, typing something you assume is completely unrelated to the topic at hand and is further proof that Jungkook just doesn’t give a shit about anything involving this class. Whatever. You turn back to Pollack. 

“Good projects not only capture the essence of what a rom-com is, but also put their own twist on the story and bring into question the topics we discuss in class, like truthfulness, realistic portrayals of love, and viewer interpretation,” she continues, and with every word you feel heart beat faster in excitement. “I know you’re all excellent filmmakers. That’s why you’ve taken this class. But what I want you to do is get into the nitty-gritty of the makeup of a rom-com and distill it as much as possible. We’ll be watching them all in class during the last week. Yes, Celia?”

You all turn to look at Celia, who sits in the third row, second seat from the left. “This is a partner project, right?” 

Well. That’s the one downside. As much as you know that cooperation is an important life skill, you would much rather prefer to produce the entire movie yourself. But you love Pollack and you already know you’re on track to get a good grade in this class, so whatever. You’ll deal. 

As long as you can pick your teammate. 

“Yes,” Pollack affirms, “and with that excellent segue, I will now announce your partners.”

Shit. 

Pollack pulls out a folded piece of paper from her back pocket, like she had just come up with the arrangements on the morning train ride to campus, and begins reading. Slowly, as she ticks off names one by one, everyone begins to turn around, locking eyes with their partners and exchanging guess-it’s-us-two-huh? smiles. Everyone except—

“And lastly, Jungkook and Y/N.”

You freeze in place. You look up at your professor, eyes wide and shocked, because nobody knows better than her how much the two of you have been butting heads this entire semester. But when you meet her eyes and she smiles knowingly, shrugging her shoulders, you know you’re doomed. Hesitantly, almost like you’re scared to find out what happens when you do, you shift your gaze towards where Jungkook sits in the front right corner of the room. Only he’s not just sitting. He’s turned a full one hundred-and-eighty degrees just so he can smirk at you from across the room, a glint in his eye. 

Jungkook laughs at your cold-stone, shellshocked reaction. Like he knows how much you’ll hate this, and you know how much he’ll enjoy it. 

From here, you actually have a pretty good view of his laptop screen, brightness turned all the way up because he apparently doesn’t care who reads his screen. Or maybe he just likes showing off how much he writes so he can establish dominance over everyone else. Except you, of course. But when you look a little closer, you notice he’s got the class discussion board for the week up on his Chrome window, two paragraphs typed into the text box. 

Right above is your response to his comment. 

Is that what he was working on? His reply to your reply? Right now? He has the audacity to draft it right here, in front of you, where he knows you can see? He doesn’t even care that you’re blatantly staring at it. In fact, he actually seems to be relishing in it.

You’re so caught off guard by the contents of his computer screen that when you look back up at him on instinct, you catch a wink in your direction. 

Your fists tighten by your side. 

Class is rather uneventful after the whole partner fiasco, as Pollack transitions into your usual dose of a short lecture on the film and then a class discussion that goes absolutely nowhere because everyone is too concerned with the final project to care. Whatever you talk about, you will be hard pressed to know, because you spend the entire rest of the period scowling at the blank page of your Notes document as you try to formulate a way to convince Pollack to change your partner. Would she accept a dozen doughnuts as a bribe? A box is only ten dollars from Dunkin’.

When Pollack finally shuts her laptop screen and begins her weekly goodbye spiel, you are the first one out of the room. Hastily, you stuff your laptop into your bag, zip it up as best as you can (which means that the tops of your water bottle and umbrella are sticking out, but who cares), and shuffle out the room right as Pollack is bidding you all farewell, just so you don’t have to look at Jungkook’s stupid, smug little grin on the way out. 

Faintly, you remember Pollack saying something about getting your partner’s contact information so you can start working, but fuck that. Jungkook knows your name. He can find you. If you must spend the entire semester communicating through Instagram DMs, then so be it. You’ve communicated with men in worse ways. Like through LinkedIn.

There’s a small seating area half a flight down from where your puny little classroom is, a few tables and a bench that wraps around the wall, posters splayed out on the corkboard to the right, staples littering both the board and the floor it rests above. Nobody ever seems to use this, despite the innumerable posters advertising everything from dance troupe shows to financial literacy talks, which makes it the perfect place for you to brood and gather your thoughts. It’s also in the direct opposite direction of the exit. So that’s good.

Taking your anger out on your personal belongings (as opposed to that bitchass smirk on Jungkook’s face), you begin to shove your umbrella and water bottle into the pocket of your backpack, fighting to nestle them amongst your other worldly possessions, like your pencil case and what looks to be a small nest of receipts at the bottom of the back. No wonder it’s so clogged up down there. 

If anything gives you a sense of control, it’s cleaning. One by one, you pluck out the receipts from your bag, nose scrunching up as you try to remember every purchase you’ve made in the past three months. Plus, one of these receipts is from when you bought some dryer sheets from CVS, so that means the five inches of actual information are also accompanied by three feet of coupons that expired two weeks ago. Ugh, what a waste. 

“Don’t look so angry, you’ll have to get used to seeing this face a lot.”

You look up from where you’ve been inspecting an old receipt from a midnight McDonald’s trip to find Jungkook standing in front of you, backpack hanging loosely on his bomber jacket-clad shoulder and that same stupid grin written all over his same stupid face. 

“Can I help you?” You drawl. Great. Now Jungkook can add “saw all her receipts” to the list of embarrassing things he’s caught you doing. 

“Can I help you?” Jungkook fires back with a scoff, blonde hair bouncing as he jerks his head flippantly. “Looks like someone needs to take an Accounting class or something.”

“I’m just doing some spring cleaning,” you sneer. It’s February. “What do you want?”

“What, no ‘Hello, partner’? ‘So excited to be working with you this semester’? I’m hurt,” Jungkook says, placing a hand to his heart as he shakes his head disapprovingly. “I thought we had something good, Y/N. Isn’t that why Pollack paired us up?”

You’re pretty sure she just likes watching the world burn. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you chide, knowing that Jungkook already must get enough of a kick out of just seeing the annoyed look on your face. 

“Please, like I even need to. You think I don’t notice the way you stare at me during class? I know you must like what you see,” Jungkook flirts, just to be extra irritating. 

While he’s stroking his own ego, you tear off a piece of that CVS receipt, one of the expired coupons for Three Dollars Off Any Shampoo or Conditioner, and scribble your number on the back. The rest of the receipts you scoop up and dump in the trash can to your right before you zip up your backpack and hike it over your shoulder. 

“Here,” you say gruffly, shoving the paper against his chest as you head towards the stairwell. 

“How forward of you, Y/N, you know you could have just asked—”

Pausing right before you turn the corner and head out the door, you turn back to look at Jungkook, already exhausted from having to interact with him for five minutes. “And when you’re done jerking yourself off,” you say pointedly, “text me.”

You storm out the door.

[February 13th, 1:24PM]

Unknown Number: guess who ;)

You: Wow I have NO idea You: Keanu Reeves?

Unknown Number: haha very funny Unknown Number: it’s jungkook

You: Damn shame You: You done jerking off yet

Maybe: Jungkook: what makes you think i’m not doing that right now ;)))

You: You don’t have the coordination to text me and masturbate at the same time You: What do you want

Jungkook: ouch, harsh Jungkook: can’t i just want to talk to my final project partner? :D

[February 13th, 2:17PM]

Jungkook: alright fine Jungkook: just wanna see when you wanna meet up

You: Guess I don’t have a choice do I

Jungkook: unless you wanna facetime

You: Is that an option?

Jungkook: how about friday at 3 Jungkook: in one of the greene gsrs

You: You think you can manage to reserve one of those?

Jungkook: watch me

[February 13th, 2:21PM]

Jungkook: [screenshot sent] Jungkook: done

You: Do you want a gold star for all that hard work you just did? All that manual labor? You: Fine. See you then.

Jungkook: miss you already <3

Y/N Y/L/N on February 12th at 10:29PM

I have to disagree with Jungkook. It’s obvious the movie is not going to have a happy ending because Tom is so obsessed with the version of Summer he has created in his head that he doesn’t even see who the real girl is anymore. It doesn’t have a happy ending not because they weren’t soulmates, or because their love wasn’t right. They break up because what Tom wants and what Summer wants are fundamentally different, and Tom just can’t accept the fact that Summer doesn’t love him the way he wants her to. In a desperate quest to keep her, though, he manifests this version of her and replaces the actual Summer with it, ultimately destroying their relationship. How could viewers ever have faith that Tom would eventually get his happy ending if the only proof of his commitment to relationships they have is him manufacturing a different girl to fall in love with?

Jeon Jungkook on February 13th at 7:35PM.

You make a good point, Y/N, but I think you missed the whole point of the movie. It’s not about their breakup or the not-so-happy ending or even Tom’s problems. It’s about the journey they go on and what Tom learns in the process. If you watch the trailer then you’d go into the movie knowing they weren’t gonna last. The results of whatever Tom and Summer do to contribute to their eventual breakup should not come as a surprise to the viewer. The whole point of the movie is that they spent five hundred days together and Tom is now recounting those days to anyone who will watch. And you know who’s watching? People who want to hear a story. About love. And loss. And everything in between. Isn’t that the whole reason we watch romance movies anyway?

Sometimes, you wonder if the garishness of Professor Pollack’s shoebox-sized office is the reason not very many students attend her office hours. The walls are lined with movie posters taken from a theater going out of business, the shelves stuffed to the brim with Disney World trinkets and old film memorabilia. She’s installed these thick red velvet curtains along her single window, making the whole room look like some sort of 1950s movie lair. 

In a way, you suppose it kind of is. 

You hear the taps of her Converse shoes as they come down the hallway and round the corner into the office.

“You know, Y/N, I was surprised to see you signed up for my office hours when I logged in this morning,” Pollack says as she enters the room, handing you the coffee in her right hand as she takes a sip out of the one from her left. Last year, the film department bought a Breville coffee maker with the leftover funds from a movie showing fundraiser and it is, in your humble opinion, the best investment the department has ever made.

“Why? I see you all the time,” you ask, eyebrows raised. You and Professor Pollack are not lacking in social connection. She’s written you a letter of recommendation and she knows your coffee order. 

“The very first time we ever spoke outside of class, you sat down at my Starbucks table while I was eating lunch just so you could introduce yourself and ask me about my opinion on the Mamma Mia remake,” she deadpans. “We don’t exactly speak through official forums.”

Well, she’s got you there. 

“I know…” you begin, trailing off awkwardly as you take a sip of your coffee. It’s burning hot and scalds your tongue a little, but it’s nice. It’s been cold recently. “But I just thought we could talk… privately.”

Pollack rolls her eyes as she reclines in her chair, back hitting the padding of the chair with a thud. “Goodness, I wonder what you’re here to talk to me about.”

“Okay, please pardon my French, but what the freak, Professor?” You say, because the words have been sitting hot on your tongue ever since you walked into your office and you didn’t think sending an email that looked like:

To: [email protected] From: y/[email protected] Subject: what the freak

Dear Professor Pollack,

What the freak?????????

Cheers, Y/N

would be very professional on your part. 

Pollack lets out this honk of a laugh, loud and sudden, shaking her head fondly. “Come on, Y/N. You must have known I would have partnered the two of you up.”

“I was hoping you’d let us choose?” You emphasize. 

“And miss out on what very well may be one of the best final projects of the class, produced by my two best students of the semester? Absolutely not,” she says, smiling knowingly at you. 

Even her sudden reveal that you happen to be one her best students this semester isn’t enough to soothe your worries and calm your anger. You’re honored, but you have bigger problems. Problems that start with ‘Jeon’ and end with ‘Jungkook’. 

Pollack looks at your beaten-down expression and leans forward, placing her coffee cup on the wooden desk in front of her. “Listen, Y/N. You’re an excellent student and one of the most talented filmmakers I’ve seen in a long time. Your discussion posts are detailed, well-written, and thought-provoking. I know that the two of you will make a great project.”

You scoff. “We can’t agree on a single thing.”

“Sometimes that happens in life, and you just have to deal with it,” Pollack says sagely. 

“So I can’t change partners?”

“Not unless you’d like to fail the final,” Pollack comments, shrugging. How rude of her to say such a thing, not taking the option to change partners off the table entirely but making it so that if you do, you’ll pretty much be shooting yourself in the foot. Or worse. 

You narrow your eyes at her. “That’s low.”

“That’s life,” she corrects. 

“Ugh.” You get up out of your seat, taking angry sips of your coffee as you desperately try to think of another way to get out of it. Are doughnuts still an option?

“I have full faith that the both of you will come up with an excellent project,” Pollack says like it’s some sort of consolation as she walks you to the door to her office. Yeah, right. You and Jungkook spend your free time making snide responses to each other’s discussion posts like it’s nobody’s business. You’re probably the only two people at your entire university that care enough to make replies to each other’s replies. Like Tinder from hell. “You shouldn’t be worried, Y/N.”

“I’m not worried,” you say, completely worried. “I just—I don’t know how Jungkook and I will get along.”

Pollack grins to herself. Does she know something you don’t? Is she up to something? She looks at you as you linger in the doorway, feeling utterly helpless after a meeting that accomplished absolutely nothing, and she smiles. 

“You’ll find a way.” 

Reserving a group study room in the Greene Library and Collection should not be some gymnastics act that involves a warm-up, practice, a routine, and song and dance. In theory, all you have to do is log onto the library’s homepage, navigate to the reservations tab, enter your name and ID number, pick a date and time, and profit. 

Of course, the demand for the study rooms does tend to outweigh the supply. There are over ten thousand students at your university. And only twenty rooms. 

And still, you have the unfortunate luck of being stuck in one of them for an hour and a half with none other than Jeon Jungkook. 

You see him coming into the library at 3PM sharp through the opposite entrance, a little surprised he didn’t show up ten minutes early like he does in class, just so he would have an excuse to complain about having to wait for you. Feeling a little threatened, you pick up the pace so that you can meet his lengthy stride, keeping an eye on his direction so you know which room he’s aiming for.

You arrive at Greene GSR #18 at the exact same time.

“So nice to see you,” Jungkook says, too cheerful, as you reach out to open the door. 

“Mmm,” you mumble in response as you enter the room, flinging your backpack onto the floor by your chair with a thud as you take a seat. The faster you start, the faster you can get this over with.

Jungkook, not at all outwardly discouraged by your clear disdain for him, rallies on happily. “So, what were you thinking for the project?” But he doesn’t even let you open your mouth to answer before he says, “Oh, wait, let me guess: a social commentary on the consumerist ideals that underline every modern movie and encourage the pursuit of an empty dream by abandoning concrete career and personal goals in favor of romantic fulfillment.”

You scowl at him, even though that’s exactly what you were thinking of doing. You’re almost positive Pollack’s had enough of seeing college students try to engineer the craziest fake dating scenarios they can imagine just for a class project. Why not do something outside of the box? 

“Well, then what do you want to do?” You challenge, already bristling. Like Jungkook has a better idea. 

“Maybe something that doesn’t scream ‘killjoy’ as much as you do,” Jungkook retorts easily. He opens his mouth to spit out something else but then rolls his eyes and shrugs, shaking his head. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have even asked.”

“Don’t pin this on me,” you immediately rebuke, pointing at him. “You’re the one who wants to make some sort of generic rom-com for our final project. Besides, I’m pretty sure every idea you even think of will have been done already.”

“Just because something is cliche doesn’t make it bad,” Jungkook says. “I swear, I don’t think you understand what the word cliche even means. A cliche thing, by default, is something that lots of people like. Therefore, it is largely well-received by the general public.”

“Oh, then that must mean that all rom-coms are deserving of a People’s Choice Award then, right?”

Jungkook frowns, getting exasperated. You aren’t much farther off. “I don’t know why you’re being so—so resistant! You know that romantic comedies are supposed to be fun, right?” 

“They’re not that fun to me,” you comment snidely. 

“That’s because you’re a stick in the mud who takes everything way too seriously,” Jungkook replies like it’s some sort of known fact. “Have you ever even been in a relationship?”

“That’s none of your business,” you tell him firmly. Who does he think he is, going around asking that sort of thing? Especially to you! Like you could care any less about what Jungkook thinks of your love life. Intrusive, much? “Besides, you asking that is exactly my point. Not everything has to be about finding love and searching for your soulmate or whatever bullshit like that. Some people don’t really care that much.”

“You act like wanting to find love and wanting to be successful are mutually exclusive,” Jungkook points out. “You don’t have to abandon all of your life goals just to find love, you know. It doesn’t have to be the most important thing in your life for you to even care about it a little. It’s natural for people to want love.”

“Then I guess I’m just a robot.”

“You sure are acting like one,” Jungkook comments easily. “What, are you about to ask me to pick out all of the pictures with traffic lights?”

“I’m allowed to have my own views on love, just like you,” you say. Isn’t that the whole point of your discussion boards? A forum where you can discuss these sorts of things through an academic lens? A barrier that keeps the two of you from going at each other’s throats when you’re engaging in the class material? It doesn’t take a genius, or even half of one, to know that you and Jungkook can’t seem to agree on anything in your FILM395 class. 

Jungkook scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘your own views on love’? As far as I’m aware, your view on love is that you don’t have one! What do you even think love really is?”

You frown at him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says like it’s obvious. “This project is about filming a short romantic comedy, about people falling in love with each other. How do you expect me to do that if we don’t reach a mutual agreement on what love is?”

You scoff. “There is no way in hell I am going to agree with you on anything concerning love.” Jeon Jungkook still thinks love is all rainbows and sunshine. Cries at the end of Love, Actually even though he’s seen it five times already. Believes in soulmates. Believes there are people out there that were built for each other. He flutters from one person to the next like a butterfly, even though he’s more like a moth drawn to any open flame within a five-mile radius. He’s convinced he’ll find his true love here, in college, just like his parents found each other. 

Yeah, right.

“Then what are we supposed to do, huh?” He says with an eyebrow raised. “We have a month to make a movie that’s fifty percent of our grade.”

“The social commentary is still on the table,” you point out. Sure, it’s not at all a romantic comedy, but it’s about them, which Pollack said was totally fine. Besides, she has been teaching you the entire semester, hasn’t she? She should know by now not to expect some cushy lovey-dovey story about two people who were destined to be with each other and can overcome all obstacles with their love. 

Deep down, a part of you wonders if that’s why she paired you up with Jungkook. If she’s had enough of the sappy love stories that Jungkook probably wanted to do, didn’t want to see another cynical commentary on capitalism in Hollywood.

“Wow, what a thrilling idea,” Jungkook deadpans. “Please, tell me more.” His voice is lifeless. 

“Oh, shut up. It’s not like your idea would be any better. Who would we even get to star in a rom-com we filmed? It’s not like the two of us could do it.”

You regret the words the instant they come out of your mouth. In horror, you watch as they sink into Jungkook’s brain, etching themselves into his mind as a lightbulb turns on, a bright idea popping into his thoughts. 

He opens his mouth, but you get there first. “No. Whatever you’re thinking, absolutely not. I am not starring in a rom-com with you.”

That is something you can say with one-hundred percent confidence. Something that you know will never change. 

“Just hear me out,” Jungkook pleads, looking a little desperate as he wrings his hands together, aching to spill the bubbling plan that’s been stewing in his head. 

You narrow your eyes in suspicion but lean back into your chair, a silent signal for him to continue. It’s not as if you have any better idea.s 

“Okay. It’s not a rom-com. It’s a mockumentary,” he says, something that (and you can’t believe you’re saying this) actually piques your interest. Moreso than anything else he’s ever said to you. “You think love is totally manufactured, right? That Hollywood creates the illusion of it to sell to people paying twenty dollars for a movie ticket?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s do that. Let’s prove it’s manufactured.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” It’s not like you can walk into a factory and ask them to make the “love” emotion for you. 

“We’ll be the stars.”

He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like it’s your best idea by a long shot, the home run of all home runs, your golden ticket to an A.

You scrunch up your nose, hesitant. “Wait, I don’t know—”

“It’s perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, eyes wide with excitement. “Think about it. It’ll be a mockumentary of a stereotypical rom-com. Except it won’t be this big Hollywood production, it’ll be real life. And it won’t be between two paid actors with years of experience under their belt, it’ll be us.” His eyes are practically bulging out of his head, big brown eyes glinting with excitement.

“So what are we gonna do? Act out our own rom-com in an attempt to see if either one of us will fall in love with the other?” You say, an eyebrow raised. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “Not necessarily. It’s a mockumentary, right? So it’s grounded in real life even if it is based upon the stereotypical boy-meets-girl rom-com. It won’t be super scripted or anything. Think of it more like… a chronicle.”

You scoff. “Of what?”

“Of us,” Jungkook says easily. “Of the time we have to spend together to film this damn project anyway. I say that rom-coms are emblematic of the natural human desire for love, and that deep down love is the thing that makes us happy. You say that rom-coms are consumerist propaganda, or whatever it is you think they are—”

“They are, and you can’t change my mind about that,” you interrupt, just for clarity. Can’t have Jungkook thinking he’s going to somehow convince you otherwise.

“—so, with this project, let’s see which one of us is right. If the time we have to spend together, making this mockumentary rom-com, will really change how we feel about each other, or if it won’t.”

How you feel about each other? You almost laugh when Jungkook says it out loud. There’s no room for questioning in your mind when it comes to how you two feel about each other. Two desperate-to-please students with opposite views on the entire structure of a class and three years of experience arguing your points in essays under your belts. 

Jungkook believes in destiny, right? Then he must know that the two of you are destined to never get along.

“You should be a car salesman,” you joke. Jungkook’s certainly excellent at pitches.

“So, you in?”

You narrow your eyes, still a little wary of whatever it is Jungkook’s putting down. But it’s not like you have any better ideas. And the sooner you agree on something, the sooner you can get this goddamn project over with and never have to sit in class with Jeon Jungkook ever again. 

“Only because this’ll finally prove to you that not everything can be solved by finding love,” you say. It’s about as good of a ‘yes’ as he’s going to get out of you. 

Jungkook grins, mischievous as always. There’s certainly something else he’s plotting, you just aren’t sure what. Maybe he’s in cahoots with Pollack. “Or,” he begins, lips curling upwards, “you’ll just fall in love with me.”

You scoff. “Yeah, right.”

“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” He holds out his hand, palm facing up as he waits for your response, that devilish glint that you hate twinkling in his eyes. 

As if you’re going to fall in love with Jungkook. For this stupid project? No way. Just because it’s a filmmaking project doesn’t make it any more bearable than your other assignments. It’s a partner project. They are, by their very nature, excruciating. You’ll be surprised if you end this project and you aren’t even more irritated with Jungkook. Does he really think you’ll actually develop some sort of affection for him?

You take his hand on your own, palm pressed against his, and you eye him carefully. Just because Jungkook’s got something up his sleeve doesn’t mean you don’t. Finally, finally, Jungkook will see why love is stupid and manufactured and fake. Why it doesn’t bring people together but instead tears them apart. 

Maybe then he’ll leave you and your discussion posts in peace.

You smile up at him. 

“I guess we will.”

When Ruby Rhodes is not six feet deep in The Princeton Review’s MCAT test prep book, she can usually be found at the small bakery five blocks west and two blocks north of your little campus, a family-owned place passed down through three generations. It’s her favorite place, and yours, too, because the coffee is delicious and the pastries are even better. 

Plus, hardly anyone from your school ever comes here, which means the wifi speed is eons better than the Starbucks inside the main food court. 

She’s halfway through a tiramisu and a rerun of The Bachelor from two seasons ago when you sit down across from her. 

“Any good?” You ask, pulling out your laptop and squeezing it onto the tiny marble table in between the two of you. 

“The food or the show?” Ruby asks over a mouthful of cake. 

“Either.” 

Ruby swallows down the piece sitting on her tongue before responding. “The tiramisu is delicious, and The Bachelor is eh. I’ve seen this episode three times already.”

“Then why are you watching it again?” You ask, laughing. Does Ruby think something different is going to happen?

“Because we’re in between weeks right now and honestly, The Bachelor is kind of dry this season,” Ruby says with a frown. 

“You’ve got some tiramisu on your cheek,” you tell her, pointing to the left side of her face where the bright mascarpone cream sticks out like a sore thumb against her dark skin. 

“It’s just so yummy, I can’t help but stick my whole face in it,” Ruby jokes as she wipes her face with the napkin on her lap. The Bachelor rerun plays on in the background, and you can hear the gasps of the women through Ruby’s discarded headphones. 

You roll your eyes. “Why do you even watch that show still? You know it’s all crap.”

“Just because you think it’s crap doesn’t mean I do,” Ruby insists, playing out an argument the two of you have had plenty of times over the course of your friendship. “Watching it makes me happy. So I do it.”

“But it’s all fake,” you say, frowning in disapproval. “The couples don’t even stay together in the end anyway.”

“It’s a totally pre-constructed show, but it’s not fake in the moment. And I don’t expect the final couple to stay together.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Believe me, I’ve seen enough Bachelor seasons to know those odds. I just like watching the ride. It’s cute.”

“You say that about everything.”

“That’s because everything is cute,” Ruby says pointedly. “I like seeing the good in people.”

Ruby’s always been the exact opposite of you in terms of worldviews. The embodiment of a real-life fairy. She puts butterfly clips in her hair and buys herself bouquets of daisies and lilies. She sits in cafes with her headphones in and sketches the people she sees outside the window. She’s studying to be a doctor so she can spend the rest of her life helping others. 

And you? 

Well, the Oscars have always been a bit of a long shot. 

The curiosity eating at you, you pose a question to her. “Hypothetically, if there were to exist a mockumentary on rom-coms and love, would you watch it?”

Ruby pauses for a second as she furrows her brows. Then she shrugs and says, “Only if the two leads fell in love at the end. Why?”

“No reason,” you say, looking away. 

There’s no fooling Ruby and her eagle eyes. 

“What is it?” She asks, a grin playing at her lips as she looks at you. “Come on, you don’t just ask me shit like that without a reason.”

“It’s for a final project,” you explain succinctly. No need to go into details. 

“You’re making a rom-com for a final project?” Ruby sounds about as skeptical as you did when you spoke to Jungkook. 

“It’s a mockumentary about rom-coms.”

“But… it’s a rom-com, right? Like, you’re going to be making a rom-com? Where people fall in love?”

Hopefully not. 

“Sort of?”

Ruby squints her eyes, trying to process all the information. You’re not surprised that she has to take a moment to think—you are certainly the last person on earth to ever admit to filming a rom-com. But, as you’ve stated, it’s not a rom-com. It’s a mockumentary about them. That distinction is vital.

“Wait, is this for that class with Pollack?” Ruby asks. “I remember you telling me you were taking it. You said this was a partner project, though, right? So who are you working with?”

Curse Ruby and her knack for remembering things. She’ll make a great doctor, that’s for sure, but right now you wish she would just forget things like everybody else. 

You sigh. “Jungkook.”

Ruby doesn’t need to think twice about who that is. “Wait, seriously? You’re working with him? Isn’t he the guy that responds to all your discussion posts?”

“Yes,” you say, rubbing your temples with your fingertips. You don’t even like thinking about him, let alone saying his name. The fact that he has to occupy any part of your brain at all gives you a headache.

“Damn, that sucks,” Ruby says, not feeling very sorry for you at all. “So you’re filming a rom-com with him?”

“It’s a mockumentary,” you specify, feeling yourself getting irritated. “It is fake.”

“Just like my shows, huh?” Ruby muses to herself, too analytical for her own good. 

“Listen, you don’t need to fall in love to make a mockumentary about it,” you say, refusing to consider any sort of alternative. 

“Don’t you?”

You sneer. “Just shut up and eat your tiramisu.”

Ruby lets out a laugh at that, this wonderful mix between a wheeze and a honk that makes you smile every time you hear it, even if it’s at your own expense. Ruby decides she’s had enough of mentally torturing you with the thought of feeling anything but extreme distaste towards Jungkook and goes back to her show, letting you brood in peace. 

You don’t need to fall in love to make a film about it. Just like you don’t need to be a masterchef to film Gordon Ramsey screaming at someone who undercooked chicken. You’re a filmmaker. You can make a film out of anything. Including love. Even if it is with someone like Jungkook. 

Can’t you?

Jeon Jungkook may be a disillusioned college student in love with the idea of love itself, but at least he’s not too shabby of a filmmaker. 

Funnily enough, it actually sort of surprises you that you’ve never encountered each other before. Especially considering you’re in the same major program at your school, a program that only accepts about fifty students per year at most. You suppose that in whatever general program classes you had to take in freshman and sophomore year you just never crossed paths. Plus, he’s a filmmaking concentration and you’re doing screenwriting, so it’s very possible that you would have just never spoken had the two of you not registered for the same semester of FILM395.

Huh. Imagine that. A life without him. 

Sort of makes you wish you had put this class off for one more semester. 

As the two of you kickstart your project, you both immediately agree that you need a third person’s help. You and Jungkook can do plenty, but you are only two people. And there’s nothing in the final project guidelines that says you can’t enlist other people to partake in the production. But you don’t need help with the filming and editing. You need help with the interviews. 

“Is this bedsheet good enough?” Kim Taehyung, a senior in the film program, asks as he’s Command-stripping a queen-sized black bedsheet to an empty wall in the living room of his tiny one-bedroom apartment. 

“As long as it fits into the frame,” Jungkook responds from where he’s standing behind the camera, set up on a tripod to capture a specific angle. “You’re not going to be in the shot anyway. You’ll just be asking the questions.”

“Good, because I look really ugly right now,” Taehyung says with a grin. You roll your eyes. Taehyung must know he always looks good. Even you can’t deny him of that. 

“This is ridiculous,” you say, seated on the singular couch in his apartment. You’re leaning on your elbow as you watch Taehyung fiddle with the bedsheet and Jungkook futz with the camera, the two of them repositioning themselves over and over again until everything’s perfect. “What are you even gonna ask us?”

“I came up with some… preliminary questions,” Taehyung says suggestively. “But I haven’t told either of you what they are so that your reactions can be more genuine.”

“Great,” you deadpan. 

“Wow, someone’s excited,” Jungkook comments snidely. 

“I know we agreed on periodic interviews for the sake of the mockumentary but I don’t know why we have to be so… so serious about them,” you say with a frown. 

“We have to promise to be honest with what we say, alright? Like, actually honest. This sets a guideline for the rest of our relationship,” Jungkook says like it’s no big deal. Like the foundation of your relationship isn’t the fact that the two of you have been engaged in discussion-board war ever since the semester began. 

“Our ‘relationship’?” You say with a scoff. 

“Do you promise?” Jungkook says. 

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I promise.” Whatever. “What do you even think is going to happen between us in the next few weeks?”

Jungkook smirks. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

You don’t like the sound of that. 

Over the next ten minutes, Taehyung gets the sheet attached to his wall and pulls over two stools from his kitchen counters, old-timey wooden ones he got from a thrift store for five dollars a pop, one for him and one for the poor soul who has to be interviewed. You’ve agreed to do them separately but Taehyung’s apartment is only so big and you are only three people, which means that whoever isn’t being interviewed still has to be behind the camera, listening to the other person. 

Makes you sort of nervous about whatever’s stewing up inside Jungkook’s mind. Wonder what the hell it is he’s plotting up there. 

Once everything is settled, Taehyung looks at the two of you as he asks who’s going first. 

You turn to Jungkook, who’s already grinning. “Ladies first.”

For someone who has spent their whole life watching and making movies, being in front of the camera feels weirdly uncomfortable to you. You’re so used to being behind it instead, directing others as they move around the frame, telling them how to feel and how to act and what to say, that having the spotlight shone on you is like picking through your thoughts with a fine-toothed comb. 

You adjust awkwardly in the bar stool seat as Jungkook stands behind the camera, twisting the lens until he gives you the thumbs-up. Quite frankly, it doesn’t make you feel any better. 

“You ready?” Taehyung asks as he takes a seat opposite you, just out of frame. 

“Well, we’ve gotta start somewhere, right?”

“That’s the spirit. Alright, Jungkook, start whenever you’re good.”

“Okay,” Jungkook chirps up. “Three, two, one—” He points to the both of you. 

“So, Y/N,” Taehyung begins, his voice suddenly much clearer. He sounds sort of like a news anchor. It’s oddly fitting. “Are you excited to begin the filming for this?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You muse. 

“That didn’t answer my question,” Taehyung points out. Good thing the camera can’t see the way his eyebrows raise. 

“I suppose that there are worse things I could be doing,” you reason, which is about as good of an answer as Taehyung’s going to get. What was he expecting you to say? That you were thrilled to be filming this not-a-rom-com with your class nemesis? That you couldn’t wait to see what would happen?

“Loving the enthusiasm,” Taehyung jokes. You wonder what your classmates will think when they watch this back, hearing this unidentified deep male voice ask you and Jungkook questions about your relationship. “Let me ask you this: what’s your current relationship with Jungkook?”

“Uh…” you begin, nervous. Behind the camera, Jungkook has that same stupid, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. You sneer. “It’s… it’s professional.”

“Can you explain what you mean by that?” 

“I mean we’re classmates. That’s the relationship.”

“That’s it?” You can hear the skepticism in Taehyung’s voice, almost like he’s egging you on to say something more. 

“We’ve had some personal disagreements on topics discussed in class. But yes, we’re just classmates,” you elaborate slightly. It’s not as if anyone needs reminding of that, anyway. They all see your discussion board posts. 

“And how do you expect that relationship to change over the course of this project?”

“I don’t think it’ll change at all.” It’s the easiest answer so far. Requires no energy nor brain power for you to think about it. 

Taehyung nods his head in intrigue. “And why’s that?”

“Because this is a project for a class, not a life lesson.”

“Who says it can’t be both?”

You frown. “Whose side are you on?”

Five feet away, Jungkook laughs. 

Taehyung chuckles. “Alright, moving on. What do you expect from Jungkook over the next few weeks as you start working on building your relationship?”

“I hope he becomes less unbearable,” you say, though you suppose that’s more of a general life goal than one that’s project-specific. But it would be nice if he became a little more… palatable. Just so you don’t have to feel the urge to sock him in the face every time you speak to each other. 

“‘Less unbearable’, excellent,” Taehyung repeats. “Anything else?”

“Well,” you say with a shrug, not sure what else to say. What do you want from Jungkook? Obviously the two of you are about to embark on your own rom-com adventure, no doubt most of it his doing, but it’s hard to imagine that he himself (or you, for that matter) will change. If anything, the rom-com setting will just exacerbate the worst parts of both your personalities. Like some sort of curse. “I guess I just hope that the project goes smoothly.”

“I hope that it does, too,” Taehyung says with a smile. “Okay, last question.” Thank God. This interview couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it feels like an eternity to you. “Do you think you and Jungkook will fall in love at the end of this?”

“No.” You don’t leave any room for hesitation. “I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“We’re very different people with very different interests,” you explain succinctly. You’re sure Taehyung will grasp that once Jungkook has his turn and answers all the same questions. “He can try his hardest, but some things are just meant to stay the way they are.”

“Okay, thank you, Y/N, that’s all. I hope you found our conversation illuminating,” Taehyung says, his cue for the camera to stop rolling. You and Taehyung both turn to Jungkook, waiting for his signal, letting out a sigh when Jungkook gives you a thumbs-up. 

“Thank fuck,” you say, hopping off of the barstool happily. You head towards the camera, ready to kick Jungkook off of it, because it’s your turn to stand behind it with an annoying look on your face as you react to every stupid thing Jungkook says. You find that you’re actually sort of looking forward to it. Being behind the camera is where you feel most at home. Making faces at Jungkook is just a bonus. 

Jungkook’s still grinning that same goddamn grin when you approach him, making you narrow your eyes. 

“‘He can try his hardest’?” Jungkook teases, voice all high-pitched to mimic yours. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Ah yes, my mission in life,” you retort easily. Maybe goading him on isn’t the best course of action, but you’re so confident that you won’t change your mind you find yourself actually anticipating his efforts. “Think you have what it takes?”

“Believe me, I do,” Jungkook says with a devilish glint in his eyes. 

You roll your eyes and kick him off the camera with a shove, pushing him towards Taehyung as he waits diligently on that chair of his. 

“So, Jungkook, same questions,” Taehyung says as Jungkook gets ready in his seat, fixing the blonde strands of hair that curl around the side of his face, framing his cheeks. 

“What? That’s no fair, he got to think about all his answers,” you exclaim, positively indignant. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Jungkook says, voice sickly smooth, honey falling off his lips. “I’ve actually been thinking about the two of us for a long time.”

You pretend to throw up on Taehyung’s hardwood floor. 

As Taehyung promised, he asks Jungkook the same questions. And, as predicted, his answers about as far away from yours as the sun is from Pluto:

“Are you excited to begin the filming for this?”

Jungkook grins. “Yes, definitely. I actually took this class after hearing from a friend that the final project was a lot of fun.”

Taehyung beams. That friend was him. No wonder he was so happy to sign onto helping the two of you. 

“And how would you describe your current relationship with Y/N?”

“We’re soon-to-be-lovers.” 

“How forward of you.”

“Isn’t that my job?”

You have to stop yourself from bursting out into laughter behind the camera and ruining the interview. At least he’s not hiding anything. You’ll give him that. 

“So I suppose you expect the two of you to fall in love over the course of the project?”

“Yes, that’s going to happen.”

“And you seem pretty confident when you say that.”

Jungkook smirks as he turns to the camera. Or, more accurately, you. “Confidence is attractive.” 

You shake your head back at him. 

The rest of the interview falls pretty much into the same vein as the first few questions. Jungkook is so brazenly determined and hopeful and optimistic it actually pains you in a way, watching him make all of these promises both to you and himself that this project is going to turn out the way he hopes it does. His answers remind you of his discussion board posts, always looking on the bright side of every movie you watch, always finding the silver lining, the light at the end of the tunnel. A movie could be total Hollywood crap, filled with cheating scandals and misunderstandings and betrayals, and Jungkook could still find beauty in it. 

It’s strange. 

For the sake of you not actually throwing up in Taehyung’s lovely apartment, you tune out the majority of the middle of the conversation, having zero desire to listen to Jungkook wax poetic about your non-existent relationship like he’s saying his wedding vows. Only when Taehyung finally remarks that they’re on the last question do you finally come to again, ready to turn the camera off as soon as Jungkook finishes his answer. 

“Jungkook, do you think you and Y/N will fall in love at the end of this?”

“I do.” Wow, what a shocker. “I do, because I hope that by the end of this Y/N will have opened her eyes to the beauty of love, and will find joy in the feeling as something that makes her feel happy and warm. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure the things we do together are meaningful. And even if we don’t last, I hope that her memories of us together will be ones she can look back upon fondly and be grateful for.”

You purse your lips together. If only it were that easy. 

“Alright, cut,” you say, voice distant as Jungkook thanks Taehyung for his time and hops off the bar stool. “Thanks, Tae.”

“Anytime, you guys,” Taehyung says with a grin. 

Jungkook comes over to where you’re standing, possibly to grab his camera and tripod but most definitely to rub his obnoxious personality all up in your face. 

“You really think you’re gonna get me to fall in love with you, huh?” You muse, an eyebrow raised as you look up at him. “Just so you can prove a point?”

“Believe it or not, Y/N, but I actually think that all people deserve the chance to experience love and that happens to include you, as well,” Jungkook responds easily. 

The words put a sour taste in your mouth. “You think I deserve it, huh?”

Jungkook nods, face solemn as he looks at you, gazing into your eyes with those big brown ones of his own. It makes you feel something unfamiliar. Like he’s reading right through your chest, into your heart. You don’t like it. “Everyone deserves love.”

“You guys are coming back, right? So I can leave the sheet up?” Taehyung interrupts after he’s moved both of his bar stools back to his kitchen counter. 

“Yeah, we’ll be back,” Jungkook answers quickly. “Thanks for setting everything up, by the way.”

“Of course. Plus, this is a good background for my nudes,” Taehyung says casually, like he’s mentioning what he’s having for dinner. “Looking forward to seeing you guys again.”

“Us, too,” Jungkook says. “Ready to go?”

“Only because it means I don’t have to see you anymore,” you retort pointedly, grabbing your backpack from where it sits on his couch as you head towards the door. 

“Just you wait, Y/N,” Jungkook says as you leave Taehyung’s building, one of those old-timey Victorian houses that was converted into a whole bunch of apartments. “You’re gonna see that I’m right.”

“Really? About what?”

“About us,” Jungkook says. You come to the stoplight, where Jungkook keeps going straight and you turn right. 

“Us?”

Jungkook grins as you turn in the direction of your own apartment. And, just as the light turns green, he says, “Just you wait. We’re gonna fall in love, you and me.”

If he says so. 

“Hey! Y/N!”

You whip your head around at the sound of your name just as you’re opening the door to your local Starbucks, wondering who the hell is calling out to you at nine-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday. 

As it turns out, you don’t have to wonder too much, because the moment your eyes adjust to the blinding sunlight coming from the east side of campus you see Jungkook hurtling towards you, heavy black boots stomping down on the pavement as he rushes to catch up with you. 

“Can I help you?” You ask, thoroughly unimpressed, as you pull open the door, looking at Jungkook heaving beside you as he holds the door open for himself. 

“Just glad I caught you,” Jungkook gasps out between breaths. “Figured this might make a good scene for the movie.”

“It’s a mockumentary,” you remind him easily, getting in the line. 

“Whatever,” Jungkook says. “What do you normally get here? I don’t really go to Starbucks often.”

“Whatever will give me the most caffeine for the least amount of money,” you retort. 

“How efficient,” Jungkook comments. 

“You know that’s how I like to be,” you tell him with a pointed look. 

Jungkook mumbles his acknowledgement as he fumbles around in his backpack, fishing through the large pocket until he whips out his Canon, holding it out in front of him like he’s a dad about to film an embarrassing shot of his child. You look down at the camera just as he pans up to you, a confused frown written across your features. Jungkook laughs. 

“Do you really need to do that here?”

“I’m not even filming,” Jungkook says with a smile, like he just pulled his camera out so he could look at your unimpressed face through a different lens. “Look, you’re up.”

You turn around to find that the woman ahead of you in line has just moved towards the pick-up side of the counter, so you shimmy over towards the barista, ready to get this over with so you can dart out of the Starbucks as soon as possible. 

“Just a grande Americano, please,” you request simply, fingers grasping for the wallet inside your coat pocket. 

“Me too,” Jungkook chirps up from behind you. The closeness of his voice makes you jump, and suddenly you become keenly cognizant of how he’s practically pressed up next to you as he leans over towards the counter. You catch a glimpse of the debit card in his hand. “Here.”

“You don’t have to pay for me, it’s fine,” you quickly say, holding out your own card to the barista. 

“No, it’s okay, I want to. Here.” Jungkook pushes your hand away as he tries to stuff his card into the reader. 

“No, I won’t let you. I’m a big girl, I can pay for my own coffee,” you rebuke, feeling yourself growing oddly defensive. 

Jungkook sighs from behind you. “Oh, come on, you can’t let me do one nice thing for you?”

“Will one of you please pay, you’re holding up the line,” the barista asks in a desperate tone, clearly too overworked and too underpaid to be dealing with two bratty college students like yourselves. 

Jungkook manages to shove his card into the reader before you get the chance to do it yourself, pushing you to the side as he verifies all of his information and takes his receipt. Next to him, you seethe to yourself, feeling a personal loss even though you just got your coffee paid for. It’s not about the money. It’s about your pride. Never in your life have you wanted to so badly pay for an overpriced Starbucks coffee. 

You and Jungkook mosey over to the other side of the counter, waiting for your identical drinks to be made as you try and calculate how much longer you have to stand in the same room and breathe the same air as Jungkook. Seeing him in class, on your discussion board posts, and for your arranged final project meetings apparently isn’t enough, so now he has to invade your personal life, too. 

“What are you doing?” You huff out angrily, turning to Jungkook even as he holds his camera out in front of him, filming the Starbucks. 

“Recording our first meeting, obviously,” Jungkook says like it’s some kind of no-brainer. Like you were in on that from the moment he called your name out on the street. 

“What do you mean, ‘our first meeting’?” You scrunch up your nose in confusion. “We’ve known each other since the semester started.”

“I know, but…” Jungkook trails off unhelpfully, but you pick up what he’s putting down regardless. Right. This is supposed to be a mockumentary rom-com. And rom-coms always start with an introduction. 

The barista behind the counter calls out Jungkook’s name as he places two same-sized cups down at the pick-up station. The cup is burning hot, even with the little cardboard holder wrapped around it like a leg warmer, so you immediately move over to the station up against the wall with all of the sugar packets and napkins and little green splash sticks. Jungkook joins you without question, whether it be due to the fact that he doesn’t come here very often or because he just wants to keep invading your space, you couldn’t say. Grabbing one of the wooden sticks, you tug the plastic lid off of the cup and give the coffee a swirl. Watching you, Jungkook takes the lid off of his as well. 

“Are you just going to copy everything I do?” You deadpan. 

“Not everything…” Jungkook trails off suspiciously, looking down into his coffee like the two of them are conspiring something. 

“What are you talki—”

Without warning, Jungkook slams half of his body into you, and without a lid or one of those little green sticks, the coffee sploshes over the side of his cup and drenches the front of your exposed hoodie, hot liquid burning through the fabric of the hoodie and the t-shirt you have on underneath. You watch in horror as Jungkook plays it off like an accident, feet fumbling around on the hardwood floor like he had just tripped. But he didn’t just trip. He dumped half of his Americano onto the both of your fronts. 

“Jungkook!” You say instantly, resisting the urge to scream because you’re in a public place but feeling your skin go as hot as the coffee against your torso as you look up at him, fuming. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz,” Jungkook says, somehow able to regain his balance, hold his coffee cup, and film the whole adventure all at the same time. “That was totally my fault, let me help you with that.” 

The camera is from his perspective, which you suppose is about as real as it gets for something grounded in reality like a mockumentary, but in this position he’s able to make conversation with his eyes, big brown ones wide as he tries to signify what exactly he means when he purposely spills coffee all over the two of you. 

You get it. You’ve seen enough rom-coms to know why he just did what he did, but you still find your mouth agape as you stare up at him, smoldering and angry and a little shocked he would dare be so bold, especially in the middle of a Starbucks coffee shop. 

“For God’s sake,” you say with an exhausted sigh despite it not even being ten in the morning yet. Unable to form any other comprehensible words, you settle for just pulling out napkins from the dispenser and dabbing the front of your hoodie as Jungkook looks at you apologetically. You can’t even tell if he’s truly sorry or just putting on another one of his shows. 

“I feel so bad,” Jungkook says, and you calm yourself down enough to nod. At least he isn’t blatantly laughing. “Can I pay for dry cleaning?”

“You’re really gonna offer to pay for my dry cleaning?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

“It was my fault,” Jungkook admits. Now that you can agree on. 

You shake your head. “It’s okay. It’s just an old hoodie, it’s no big deal.”

“I’m still sorry,” Jungkook insists, and the more he says it the more you actually find yourself starting to believe him. Even if he did just spill coffee all over you. “Here, let me give you my jacket—”

“That’s not necessary,” you say as he shrugs off his backpack and begins to remove the bulky denim jacket he’s wearing, fabric worn and soft from years of use. “Seriously, it’s okay, it’s just a hoodie.”

“Yeah, but now you have coffee all over your clothes and you probably have class soon, right?” He says, an apologetic smile lacing his lips. He tugs off his jacket and holds it out towards you. 

“Jungkook, I’m fine, alright? I appreciate your concern, though,” you assure him. You throw away the last of the coffee-stained napkins in your hands and reach down for your backpack, which you had taken off your shoulders somewhere in the chaos. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, almost as if he was expecting resistance, and leans over you anyway. His arms extend outwards as he wraps his enormous denim jacket over your shoulders, the fabric draping loosely over your body. The damn thing was big on him, so on you it practically eats you up. You stand there, silent, as Jungkook adjusts the jacket on your torso, pulling underneath the hood of your sweatshirt as he makes sure it’s snug across your figure. 

“There,” Jungkook says. 

“Thanks,” you say, a half grin playing on your lips. The gesture makes you wonder if Jungkook really was planning on giving up his jacket this early in the morning for the sake of your movie. “That’s nice of you.”

“I hope it makes up for the fact that you smell like coffee now,” Jungkook says, a hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck. 

“I appreciate it,” you say. 

“I have class, too, so I have to go,” Jungkook says, hoisting his backpack on his shoulders as he tucks his camera away. “I’m sorry again! See you around?”

Like you even have a choice. 

“Yeah, see you around,” you say as Jungkook darts off just as quickly as he arrived, rushing out the door before you have the chance to change your mind and give him his jacket back. 

When he leaves you, you find yourself at a loss for words. You stand there, lips pursed, coffee cold, as the weight of his jacket rests heavy on your shoulders. 

It smells like him. 

You should have known he would do something like this. Spill coffee all over the two of you, offer you his jacket, dash off like Cinderella at midnight. Like the opening of the world’s worst rom-com. The start of what is no doubt going to be the most unbearable final project you have ever done.

Plus, the other thing it’s ensured is a second meeting. How else is he going to get his jacket back?

And you know what the worst part is?

This is only the beginning.

This time after FILM395 ends lecture for the day, it’s your turn to catch Jungkook lounging around after class. 

He’s lingering around the outside of the building, scrolling through his phone, a heavy leather jacket resting over a flannel that goes down to his knees and a baseball cap sitting firmly on his tuft of blonde hair. He’s obviously not paying attention to any of his surroundings whatsoever, because he doesn’t even notice you exiting out of the door he’s standing by until you say his name. 

“Jungkook,” you say, arriving in front of him. 

“Wha—oh, hi,” Jungkook says, jumping at the suddenness of it all. 

“Here,” you say, holding out his oversized denim jacket in between the two of you. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were going to give it back so soon,” Jungkook says, looking a little surprised and… is he touched? 

“I was going to give it to you a couple days ago but I thought I should give it a wash first,” you admit to him. 

Instinctively, Jungkook brings the jacket up to his nose to sniff it. “Smells like lavender.”

“Yeah, it’s my detergent. Hope you don’t mind. It’s a little wrinkled—I let it air dry since I was worried it might shrink in the dryer.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says, a genuine smile lacing itself across his features. It’s not one you see too often, and definitely not the kind of smile he usually flashes in your direction. Those are all so obnoxious, so full of himself. This one’s different. It’s appreciative. Kinder. Softer. In a lot of ways. “I was thinking, if you don’t have class now, do you wanna grab some coffee?”

You narrow your eyes. “Only if you promise not to spill it on me this time.”

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. “Okay, I got it. I won’t spill it on you.”

“Promise?” You prompt. 

“Promise.”

The walk to Starbucks this time is in relative silence, but neither of you seems to mind it very much. You aren’t dashing to catch up with each other and heaving snarky comments as you catch your breath. Jungkook even notices you shiver in the cool March breeze and wraps his jacket around you again anyway, although this time you make a mental note to make sure he doesn’t leave without it. Even though a lavender scent wafts off of the denim, it still smells a little bit like him. That boyish sort of aroma. You don’t think any detergent would ever be able to get rid of that. 

You and Jungkook both get americanos again because you’re predictable and creatures of habit, and Jungkook actually seems to quite like them. He pays and you don’t spend two minutes standing in front of the barista fighting over it. Jungkook seems so determined to pay the extra four dollars for your drink that you aren’t sure if it’s really worth arguing over it for the sake of pride anymore. What you and Jungkook put into making this project a success is what you’re going to get out of it. 

He picks one of the longer tables in the back of the study space, empty because it’s just after the lunchtime rush and most people have classes now, sets up the camera at one end, and you sit down at the other. 

“So,” you begin, not sure where to start because your coffee is too hot to take a sip from it. 

“So,” Jungkook echoes. 

Silence. 

You purse your lips in that awkward, I-don’t-know-what-to-say kind of way. “What do you want to do?”

Jungkook grins. “This is the part where we get to know each other.” 

“We already know each other.” You frown.

“Do we?” Jungkook poses, an eyebrow raised. “I mean, yeah, I guess we aren’t strangers, but I don’t know anything about you. Other than you’re a film major in a rom-com class who hates rom-coms.”

“I don’t hate rom-coms,” you object. “I just think it’s important to look at them from a critical lens.”

“Okay, whatever,” Jungkook says, shrugging you off. “The point is that we don’t know anything else about each other. Like, what’s your favorite color, for example?”

“Purple.” It’s an easy answer. You wore purple princess dresses when you were five, painted your bedroom lilac when you were ten, and still make sure to keep a purple highlighter in your pencil case now. “What’s yours?”

“Red,” Jungkook responds. 

“Cool,” you say, effectively ending the rest of the conversation.

Jungkook, sensing that same awkward silence, suggests something. “How about you ask me something now? We can go back and forth.”

You shrug. It’s not like you have anything better to do. “Alright.” You think for a moment, but then you have the perfect question. “Why film?”

Jungkook was clearly not expecting something so loaded, because his brows furrow, knitting themselves together as he begins to figure out a good enough answer. “Hmm,” he says, lost deep in thought. “I suppose the standard answer would be that I’ve always been interested in it, but I think I chose film because I want to be able to have the gift to tell other people’s stories. Being a filmmaker doesn’t just mean you stand behind a camera. It means you immerse yourself in the lives of other people to create something new. And… I don’t know. I guess I really like doing that.” 

You nod. 

For once, you understand him. Understand why he chose to major in film, why he chose to be in this tiny little program. Because there is so much out there, so much that you will never know, people you will never meet and things you will never see. And it’s a filmmaker’s job to make them turn into things you will see, people you will meet. Who knows the world better than the people who study it? The people who have devoted their lives to learning all its secrets?

“What about you?”

“Same as you,” you tell him. “Film is an art but it’s more than that to me. It’s a new way to look at the world. It’s several new ways to look at the world, depending on what kind of film you want to create and what kind of story you want to tell. I think it’s important to show people that all of the things they see in the media every day are not always reality. And that real people deserve to have their stories told, too. I don’t know. That’s what I think.”

Jungkook grins, a twinkle in his eyes. “Real people like us?”

“This project is different,” you insist. 

“I don’t think it is,” Jungkook says. “You said it yourself, we’re making this because it’s important to show people that the Hollywood entertainment they consume is not reality. This is. This is reality.”

You frown, kicking yourself in the shin because what was supposed to be a harmless conversation has now turned into an opportunity for Jungkook to try and convince you that you will, in fact, fall in love with him. You’ve dug your own grave and Jungkook was the one who handed you the shovel. 

“You’re not giving up, are you?” You say, shaking your head, flabbergasted. “Reality is the fact that this project is not going to make me fall in love with you. Nothing is.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Jungkook warns. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“You mean like spilling burning hot coffee all over me?” You ask, an eyebrow raised, a grudge still held. 

“We had to start somewhere,” Jungkook defends. “And you seemed to understand what I was doing pretty quickly.”

“It’s not the worst thing someone’s done to me,” you concede, only slightly. “Besides, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but throwing hot coffee all over me is not really a good way to start off your plan to get me to fall in love with you.”

Jungkook smiles. “All in due time, Y/N. All in due time.”

“I can’t believe Pollack actually paired us up together,” you say with a sigh. “You know she did it on purpose.”

“Of course she did.” It’s not really a surprise to either of you. 

“I met with her right after she announced our partners,” you tell him, “she said it was because she wanted to see what kind of project we would come up with. How we would address our… differing views on love.” That’s one way of putting it. A rather nice way, if you do say so yourself.

“Speaking of which,” Jungkook says, something suddenly flashing through his mind, “what do you really think about love? You know, other than it’s unrealistic and ruins people’s lives.”

“You make me sound like Ebeneezer Scrooge.” You frown at him. 

“I’m serious,” insists Jungkook. “Why are you so pessimistic about it? Have you ever been in love? Have you had bad experiences? You couldn’t have just developed this worldview over time.”

You scowl, feeling yourself getting defensive. “Well, maybe I did. Maybe that’s just what I think. Why do you care?”

“Because people don’t just hate love for no reason,” Jungkook exclaims. “Come on, there must be something.”

Your body stiffens. Who is he to be asking you this sort of shit? Why does he care so much? It’s not like it will have any effect on the outcome of your project. Not like you explaining yourself will change the way either of you look at the world. 

“What’s it to you?” You challenge. “Why do you love love so much? Have you ever fallen in love? Do you think it’s suddenly going to solve all of your problems?”

“I love it because I think it brings people real joy,” Jungkook answers simply. “It makes people happy and it’s beautiful. I love love and I’m not ashamed to say that out loud. I believe in it. I believe in love, and in destiny, and in soulmates. I want that. I think everyone deserves it.”

 You scoff to yourself. “You believe in soulmates?”

“I think we all have our people out there.” Jungkook nods. “Don’t you?”

You roll your eyes, arms crossed over your chest. This conversation has gone nowhere, and Jungkook looks as equally dissatisfied as you do. 

“I think love can make us do stupid things,” you tell him succinctly, if a little jaded. No need to say anything else. Your explanation is right there. “We’re just different, I guess. You and I.”

Jungkook blinks at you, eyes wide and a little desperate. Your conversation has remained stagnant and there’s almost nothing left to say. 

Almost. 

“Don’t you ever want to fall in love?” He asks, like it’s a last-ditch effort to get you to believe. 

You freeze. Let the words sink in for a moment. Before you push them out the door and toss them into the garbage. Just thinking about it gives you a headache. Puts a sour taste in your mouth. 

Quickly, you push yourself out of your chair and stand up, grabbing your coffee with one hand and your backpack with the other. “I have to go, sorry. I just remembered I’m meeting up with a friend to help her with a photography shoot,” you fumble out quickly, the legs of the chair screeching as you scoot them across the hardwood floor. “Oh, here’s your jacket, too. Thanks for giving it to me again. I’ll see you in class.”

You whip around and head towards the exit, and only when you’re outside of the Starbucks and passing by the window do you dare look back. Do you dare let your gaze drift back to Jungkook, who is sitting there like he still doesn’t understand you. Still can’t. 

You and Jungkook are final project partners and maybe, if you’re pushing it, acquaintances-slash-friends. But there are just some things better kept to yourself. 

We’re reaching the halfway point in this semester and, as you all know, I don’t do midterms. That said, I still want you to reflect on what you’ve learned, discovered, and thought about thus far in this class. What portrayal of love did you find the most realistic? The least? How have they changed the way you think about love, both from a personal and a film perspective?

Y/N Y/N on March 3rd at 6:08PM

Purely from a film perspective, I really did enjoy watching Juno. It was funny and raunchy and just the right amount of vulnerable. It certainly felt the most real. So far, no film in this class has topped it for me. 500 Days of Summer, on the other hand, was in my opinion extremely unsatisfying and left no positive impression. The ending was a bore and Tom had absolutely no spine. It was a shame, because the direction and production was actually quite good. 

I guess I’m starting to realize how real love is not pretty. It can make people just as sad as it can make them happy. Why don’t we show the sad sides of love, too? The sides where your room is covered with a pile of clothes because you can’t bring yourself to do the laundry? Where you cannot cook a meal because it reminds you of a breakup? Rom-coms are, obviously, not the most realistic. But why are there not more films that do cover what’s real? How can we love love if all we know is a lie?

Jeon Jungkook on March 3rd at 11:13PM

Of course, I thought The Big Sick did an excellent job of their portrayal of love, adult life, and the problems that plague us all in the twenty-first century. It was also just as emotional and touched on concepts of race, illness, and being in your twenties and having no idea what direction your life is going in. The Princess Bride, on the other hand, as much as I love it, I do think created a more circumstantial kind of love. Westley and Buttercup mostly fall in love because of their situations. But it remains a classic nonetheless. 

I’m satisfied with the way the film industry has produced rom-coms and handles love. The beauty of it is that love is different for every person who goes through it. It can bring the greatest joy and the most painful sorrow. We do not just figure out what love is by what we see on film. We see it in our real lives, in our parents, in our friends, in couples in coffee shops and cars and on sidewalks. We can love love because we want that joy for ourselves. Because we know that true love will be worth any heartbreak we endure. Is it not impossible for the portrayals of love in these rom-coms to not be real? The way everyone experiences it is different. The only way you can know what real love is, and what it is not, is if you fall in love yourself. 

Early on in your project development, you and Jungkook exchanged class schedules to optimize your productivity and skip over that stupid, terrible part of partner projects where you’re just going back and forth trying to pick a time that works for the both of you until you eventually settle on something ridiculous like eleven o’clock at night outside of the McDonald’s two blocks off of campus. 

It’s been working very well. Neither of you have adventurous-enough friends to invite you out on spontaneous picnics and restaurant dates that fuck with your pre-scheduled meeting times, and Jungkook already seems to have mastered the art of screaming your name when he catches you on the sidewalk so that you can film something. 

In fact, you’re actually beginning to wonder why you haven’t done this with all of your long-term partner projects. Send each other your schedules so that you can settle on a time in advance. No muss, no fuss. 

You and Jungkook are supposed to meet up again tonight, after the two of you are finished with all of your classes, to discuss what scenes you should be filming next. Edited down, you’ve already got about ten minutes worth of footage, but it’s mid-March and the project is due at the end of April. So you need to get this show on the road. 

The door slams shut behind you as you exit the business building, your film industry class having just ended a minute ago. You’ve got an hour to kill before your next class, just enough time to dash to the food court in the center of campus and grab something from the Japanese place in the back corner. You might even have time to browse the shelves in the bookstore if you’re fast enough. 

You round the corner to the main pathway through campus when a voice stops you in your tracks. 

“You’re just too good to be true…”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

It’s not Jungkook. Instead, in the middle of the walkway are the Eighth Notes, one of the fifteen-thousand (you don’t know for sure, but if you had to estimate) acapella groups on campus. They’ve got mic stands and a table set up and everything. Maybe they’re promoting an upcoming show…? 

You almost breeze right by when one of them, the one in the middle of the group, points right at you, a lopsided grin lacing his features. You aren’t one to normally stop in the middle of a crowded footpath, but when, one after another, all six of the boys start pointing at you, you have no choice. 

“You’d be like Heaven to touch…”

“I wanna hold you so much…” 

“At long last, love has arrived…”

“And I thank God I’m alive…”

“You’re just too good to be true…”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

Their voices are smooth like honey, warm and deep, romancing you through their mics as each one of them suddenly manifests a rose from behind them. Around you, people are starting to stare, gawking at you as they walk by. There’s even a small crowd starting to gather, and you swear you can see some people filming on their phones. The fact that this is happening in the busiest ten minutes of the day, as half the student body is walking from one class to another, isn’t helping. At all. 

The rest of them singing in the background, each one steps out from behind the set of microphones to hand you the rose, smiling their classic, old-timey smiles like those old jazz singers from the 1960s, until you’ve got half a dozen in your hands as they continue to sing. 

“But if you feel like I feel…”

“Please let me know that it’s real…”

“You’re just too good to be true…”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

And then, suddenly, all of them are shutting their traps and turning to the left, looking down the pathway as the song begins again, but from one-hundred feet away. 

“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night…”

Your mouth drops. At the other end of the walkway is Jungkook, one of those wireless microphones in his hand, grinning as he saunters down the path like a prince at a ball, voice sweet and thick as the words dance off of his lips. 

“I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…”

Your eyes lock from opposite ends of the path, Jungkook stepping closer with every beat the Eighth Notes gives him. It sort of feels like your impending doom and a wedding proposal, all at once. By now a rather substantial audience has gathered, lining the walkway with their phones out, filming Jungkook as he waltzes past them, occasionally turning to capture your gobsmacked expression. 

Every step that Jungkook takes makes your heart race something fierce, cheeks warming in embarrassment, trapped in your least favorite thing in the entire world: a public serenade. You can’t really do anything except look at him in shock, feeling his steady gaze resting firmly on your figure, looking right at you. Into you. 

“Oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray…”

Oh, pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay…”

Jungkook, on the other hand, is clearly relishing in this. In the spotlight. In the music. Or maybe just in the fact that you’re on the receiving end of his over-the-top advances. His grin is wide as he takes those last few steps, microphone gripped neatly in his hand, the lyrics warm and weighty as they tumble from his lips. 

“And let me love you, baby…”

One final step and he’s right in front of you, staring into your eyes, letting himself bask in the look on your face. He produces a rose himself—cherry red, like his favorite color—and holds it out in between the two of you. In the background, the Eighth Notes go quiet, leaving Jungkook on his own for the final line. 

“Let me love you…”

The words drift above your heads, disappearing into the sky as he lingers on them, on that last note, beaming down at you. He looks at you, so hopeful, so happy, so endeared, and what else can you do? What else, besides taking the rose from his hand and smiling back up at him? Who are you to deny him of that?

The crowd around you cheers when you do, applauding both Jungkook and the Eighth Notes, with whom he is apparently in cahoots, before they all decide that they ought to get on with their day and head to class. No doubt you’ll be on several dozen Instagram stories by nightfall. 

Only after everyone has dispersed do you notice Taehyung, who must have been here since the beginning, because he’s just turning off the camera dangling from his neck. Of course Jungkook got him to film. Other than your project, what else would this be for?

“Is that the best you can do, Jungkook?” You smirk up at him, only saying this because you can’t have him knowing that you actually kind of enjoyed it. 

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” Jungkook responds easily. “Thought I would do something spontaneous.”

“And now you’ve taken up ten minutes of my lunch,” you say, shaking your head to yourself. “How spontaneous, indeed.”

“How was that, Jungkook?”

Behind the two of you, the Eighth Notes are packing up, clearly more than happy to have aided Jungkook on his quest for so-called love and getting to promote their group in the process. 

“Great, thank you so much, Jimin,” Jungkook says to the one in the middle, the very first one to sing when you walked out of the door. 

“Anytime, dude. Glad we could help,” Jimin responds. He waves hi to Taehyung, too, as they store their microphones and go on their way. 

Jungkook bids them goodbye as they head down the path, smiling at all of them before he turns back to you, notices the distant, faraway look in your eyes as you twirl the rose between your fingers, press it to your nose to pick up its scent. 

“You gotta admit, I’m a pretty good singer, eh?” Jungkook says with a nudge to your shoulder. 

“You’re alright.”

Jungkook laughs to himself. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get a big head,” you warn. 

“Think I’ll have to sing for you more, now, hmm? Since you liked it so much?” He suggests, eyebrows wiggling. 

You roll your eyes. “Only if you can get Jimin and the Eighth Notes to back you up, again. Then maybe I’ll allow it.”

Jungkook grins. He’s far past the point of being deterred by your deadpan comments. If anything, they only encourage him more. But you, for obvious reasons, cannot give in. At least, not yet, anyway. 

“Okay, go eat your lunch,” he says, nodding as you begin to part ways. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

You smile. “Okay. See you.”

“See you, too.”

The moment you get back to your apartment you put all seven roses in an old vase filled with water. They brighten up your bedroom instantly, soft scent freshening up the air. And when you go to bed that night, it is to Jungkook’s sweet, delicate voice, like walking on clouds, like satin and silk, that you fall asleep.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Jungkook greets like always, smiling at you as you walk in the door for FILM395. 

“Good morning, Jungkook,” you say in response. 

Then, you take a seat right next to him. 

It’s an act that clearly catches everyone off guard, if the bewildered looks of your fellow classmates and Jungkook’s confused expression are anything to go by. Even Pollack, when she walks through the door, gets a bit of a shock, eyes widening when she sees the two of you seated next to each other. 

You suppose all the fuss is understandable. After all, you both sort of hate each other. 

Other than the sudden change in seating arrangement, however, the rest of the class goes off without much issue. Pollack lectures for an hour before you move into discussion, at which point it becomes a class participation free-for-all, with you and Jungkook almost definitely in the lead. Just because you’re now sitting next to each other doesn’t mean either of you are suddenly going to stop raising your hands to rebuke each other’s points. Some things never change. 

Sitting next to Jungkook is not as bad as you thought it would be. For one, he is, for the most part, a rather diligent student. Other than his occasional flicks to his email, an essay he’s working on, or your discussion board, he mostly sits and takes notes and doesn’t do anything else. That, you can at least give him credit for. And even though your elbows almost always nearly crash into each other’s when you’re raising your hands to respond to a point Pollack’s made, discussion isn’t so bad either. 

One of the perks of sitting directly beside each other is that whenever he says something stupid, or saccharine, or just overly unrealistic, you don’t have to just roll your eyes from the back of the classroom while you wait to be called on. You also get to kick his foot with your own, nudge your elbow into his side. And he does the same to you. You and Jungkook are like those neighbors in sitcoms that spend all their free time shouting at each other from opposite windows. Just because your seats have gotten closer doesn’t mean your viewpoints have. 

A notification pops up on your laptop.

[March 17th, 11:05AM]

Jungkook: wanna meet at the tables outside after class?

You look over at Jungkook with a frown.

You: Why are you texting me? We’re sitting right next to each other

Jungkook: because we’re in class obvs Jungkook: dont wanna be disruptive

You: Since when has that ever stopped you before?

Jungkook: haha very funny Jungkook: tables sound good?

You: Only since you asked so nicely :)

Jungkook: thoughtful as always i see

After class, you and Jungkook both hang around, waiting for each other to pack up your belongings so you can walk to the tables together. Everyone else seems to sense this weird, uncomfortable tension in the room, because they all book it out of the door much faster than either of you do. You’re almost convinced Jungkook purposely takes extra time to zip his backpack, just because. 

The tables are, as per usual, empty. But you don’t have a pile of receipts to spread out, this time. You and Jungkook take a seat at one of them as you pull out your laptops, ready to outline the rest of the project. 

“We should probably meet with Taehyung a couple more times, too,” you suggest as you begin to brainstorm. 

“Sounds good,” Jungkook agrees. “But we can’t meet at night on weekdays anymore. My dance group’s show is coming up and we have practice then.”

You stop typing and turn to him. “I didn’t know you were in a dance group.”

Jungkook shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I don’t really talk about it that much.”

“You should.”

He looks up at you at that, eyes wide as he faces you. 

“I don’t know, it seems like something you should be passionate about,” you say. In the same way that you promote the Film Club to every freshman you know, force all your friends to mark that they’re Interested in your event pages on Facebook. Jungkook should want to tell everyone about his dance group. Doesn’t he love it? Isn’t he proud to be in it?

Jungkook doesn’t look like he knows what to say to that. So he doesn’t say anything at all. 

“We can meet on weekends too,” you say, adjusting to his new change of schedule easily. “This project isn’t as all-consuming as I thought it would be.”

“You mean I’m not as all-consuming as you thought I would be,” Jungkook corrects. 

You shake your head. “No, you are.” He laughs. “But yeah, on weekends is fine. You know my schedule. What else should we do, besides talk to Taehyung?”

It’s like a lightbulb goes off above Jungkook’s head. “Let’s go on a date.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “No.”

“What do you mean, “no”? It’s the natural progression of our relationship! It’s the next step in the rom-com! We have to,” Jungkook insists. 

“First of all, it’s a mockumentary, not a rom-com,” you say with a sigh, finding yourself having to correct him rather frequently. “Secondly, we are not in a relationship. I am not dating you and you are not dating me.”

“Okay, but at this point in rom-coms the two leads would definitely go on a date,” Jungkook says, punctuating every word for emphasis. “What’s the harm? It’s not like you’re committing yourself to a future with me.”

“Thank God,” you mutter. 

“Oh, shut up. You probably haven’t been on a date in years, anyway. Why not spend a night out?”

You frown at that. “Who cares if I have or have not been on a date?” Why does Jungkook care so much about the history of your love life? He’s always saying stuff like this, always telling you things as if you’ve never been in a relationship at all, don’t know left from right, black from white. Who is he to be making those assumptions?

“Please, Y/N,” Jungkook begs, looking desperate. “Just one evening. And then if it really goes terribly and you end up hating me again, then we don’t have to do another one.”

You sigh, shoulders slumping. Well, what else are you going to do? You don’t have any other ideas. And you’ve already spent so much time with Jungkook this semester, what’s another evening? Just something else to cross off of your list of things to film. Maybe you can get him to take a cute photo of you to post on social media. 

“Fine,” you concede. “One date. And I still hate you, by the way.”

Jungkook clearly does not believe you. “Really? You still hate me? I’m sure you do.”

“Okay, I don’t hate you. But still,” you relent again. Perhaps you’re just being oddly soft today. Too lenient for your own good. 

Jungkook grins, cheeks little round circles as his lips curve up. “I know you like me. You just can’t admit it to yourself, can you? Can’t take that blow to your dignity.”

“Don’t think so highly of yourself,” you chide. 

“Who knows?” Jungkook tacks on, just to be extra annoying. “Maybe you’re actually starting to fall in love with me.”

You scoff. “You wish.”

“Well, are you?”

Jungkook doesn’t ask the question the same way he’s asked all of the other ones. Doesn’t say it with a shit-eating grin on his face or that glint in his eyes. He’s asking because he’s curious. Curious if what he’s been doing has been working. Curious if this project is really accomplishing anything at all. 

Funnily enough, you find yourself wondering the exact same thing.

Silent, you pausing for a moment to think, chewing on the inside of your lip. Jungkook’s looking back at you, lips curled upwards as he waits for a response. Ugh, you’ll just have to give it up. What else can you say? “I guess…” you begin, hesitating. 

You aren’t sure why you’re so scared to respond. Maybe you’re just worried that things will change if you say something. If you tell him the truth. 

But it’s just Jungkook. He’s sitting in front of you patiently, waiting for your answer. What could happen?

You confess. “I guess you’re not so bad after all.”

Even though this is not the first time you’ve ever been out on a “date” (you’re using that word tentatively), picking out what to wear isn’t any easier than the last time. 

“Is black too, you know, sexy?”

Ruby shrugs on the other end of the video call. Her phone is propped up on her desk as she works on something on her laptop, glancing over every now and then whenever you prompt her to respond. “Well, that depends. Do you wanna fuck?”

“No.”

“Then it might be too sexy,” Ruby says easily. “What are you even doing? I thought you didn’t go out on dates.”

“It’s not a date,” you insist, although you’re not exactly sure which of the two of you you’re trying to convince. 

“You’re asking me what kind of sexy dress to wear for a night out with a guy. It’s a date,” Ruby reminds you, economical as always. “Who are you even going out with, anyway? You just called and asked me to pick between two dresses I have literally never seen you wear before.”

“That’s because I don’t go out on dates, which this is not,” you tell her, even expending the energy to stare into the camera to hammer your point home. “And it’s with Jungkook.”

Ruby shuts her laptop at that. You can hear the sound of her keyboard clacking as the lid hits them. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do I need to remind you that this is not a date and therefore, you don’t need to be acting like I just told you I’m getting married.” You frown at her. “It’s just for our movie. Jungkook wants me to dress nicely, though.”

“Wear that nice summer dress you have,” Ruby instructs instead, shooing away the two much sexier options you’re currently holding in your hands. “Just put tights on underneath if you’re cold.”

“This one?” You ask, shuffling through your closet until you produce the gingham dress, plaid a pale yellow that matches gold jewelry rather well. 

“Yes, that one. I like that one,” Ruby says with a nod. “You look good in it.”

“I don’t know, I feel like it’s not appropriate.” You hesitate. It’s a cute dress, sure, but it seems too… casual. Too everyday. Jungkook’s taking you out to dinner, and no doubt he’s got something else planned for the rest of the evening. 

“I mean, you did say you had no plans on fucking him tonight,” Ruby reminds you coarsely. 

“I have no plans on fucking him at all,” you reiterate. “This is not a date. It is for our movie.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby brushes you off with a wave of her hand. “Wear whatever you want, but I like your yellow dress the most. It looks really nice on you. And if it’s not a date, then neither you nor Jungkook should care.”

“Ruby—”

“I gotta go. Enjoy your not-date!”

She hangs up. 

You end up wearing the yellow dress. Jungkook knocks on your apartment door just as you’re closing the clasp to your necklace, a gold choker your mother had gifted you for a birthday a couple of years ago. It’s nothing much. You grab a jacket on your way to answer the door, wrapping it around your figure as you twist the knob. 

On the other side is Jungkook, all decked out in black jeans and a clean-cut leather jacket, the black ensemble striking against his warm-toned skin and bleached, blonde hair. You hate to admit it, but he actually does look rather good. For Jeon Jungkook. 

“Hi—whoa,” Jungkook says, doing a little whistle when he sees you, eyes bulging out of their sockets. 

You chuckle. “‘Whoa’ yourself.”

“You, uh…” Jungkook stammers slightly, a hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck. The movement lifts his arm up just enough for you to see the line of his waist, the seamlessness of his body. He’s always been rather fit. “You look nice.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” you chide, stepping outside and pulling the door shut behind you. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

“Cleaned up just for you.” He grins. 

You press a hand to your heart dramatically. “I’m touched.” You begin walking down the hallway of your small apartment building, feeling your hands brushing by your sides due to how skinny the corridor is. At least, that’s what you assume. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as Jungkook opens the door to the passenger side of his car for you. 

He winks, that same gleam in his eye. He grins something wicked. “Don’t you remember?” He asks. “It’s a secret.”

The secret turns out to be a small Italian restaurant on an off-road in the center of town, a family joint with those plaid red tablecloths and dark wooden chairs. You’d never heard of the place before tonight, but Jungkook insists that it’s delicious and says it has a four-and-a-half star rating on Yelp, which is obviously gospel when it comes to restaurants. It’s so empty that he even has room to prop up the camera a couple of tables away to get that wide-angle shot of the both of you, two souls in a tiny little restaurant, enjoying a night out on the town. You’re sure that by the time production and post-production rolls around you’ll edit out most of your dialogue, but you like the idea of keeping in snippets of the audio, overlaying the scene with a soft instrumental. 

From a director’s point of view, of course. No other reason to romanticize your night with him. 

It’s nice. Objectively, it’s definitely one of the more exciting things you’ve done in a while, even if it’s just a dinner out in town, away from campus. It’s new. Adventurous. Jungkook convinces you to try his vodka shrimp linguine and you offer up some of your truffle-flavored gnocchi, which he devours happily. One thing you do learn is that no matter how much time passes, no matter how much food is on his plate, Jungkook eats and eats and eats. He never seems to fill up. This is one of those restaurants that pile your bowls high with pasta, give you at least three servings, send you home with to-go packages that will last you for days, and he still somehow manages to eat every last bite. He even has some of your leftovers. 

Jungkook pays because he insists and says that you shouldn’t fight on camera, which you have no choice but to agree to. However, you do look him up on Venmo and send him twenty dollars to cover your half of the bill, because the idea of him paying for you doesn’t sit right with you. It was fine with the coffee, a small token of repayment after spilling it all over you, but dinner just feels like too much. Like he’s carrying most of the weight and you aren’t shouldering enough. Like he’s putting in all of the effort and you are just bandwagoning off of him. 

And partnerships aren’t supposed to be like that. Jungkook isn’t supposed to do all of the work. You aren’t supposed to do nothing. You and Jungkook may not agree on much but you both know that you are equals. That what you put in is what you get out. 

It’s a lesson you think you learned too late, but you won’t make those mistakes again. You’ll get it right this time. 

“That was nice,” Jungkook says after the dinner. You’re walking through the park just across the street now, the sun having set and the streetlamps illuminating your path. The city has strung up lights along the trees, draped them over the branches like stars, like snowflakes. It’s picturesque. 

“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks for taking me.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“How did you discover that place?” You ask, just out of curiosity. It’s not exactly the kind of restaurant that would be front and center on Google. 

“I went out on a date in freshman year there,” Jungkook admits, lips pursed awkwardly. “Yeah.”

“Did it at least go well?” You ask, trying to be hopeful. 

“If it did, do you think I’d still be here doing this with you?” Jungkook poses, an eyebrow raised. 

You chuckle to yourself. “You don’t mean that. I’m sure you’ll find your person.”

“You actually believe in that stuff now?” Jungkook asks you, skeptical. 

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “You do. I don’t wanna ruin it for you. Your person’s out there somewhere.”

“How do you know I haven’t already found my person?”

You stop in the middle of the path, feet coming to a halt on the pavement. Jungkook looks at you and you look back at him, letting his question sink into your skin, etch itself into your thoughts. He’s asking you because he wants to know. He looks so genuine, so patient, like he’s trying to find an answer somewhere in your eyes but you can’t give him one. 

“Wouldn’t you be able to tell when you did?”

Jungkook sighs. “I don’t know if it always works like that.”

You smile, soft and small. Musing, you say, “well, when you figure it out, let me know.”

“Do you think you’ve found your person?” Jungkook asks you. 

“You know I don’t think about love like that,” you remind him. 

“Well, how do you think about it?”

You gaze up at him once more, that same soft smile playing on your lips. Who is he to be asking you these questions, you wonder to yourself. What would the point be in answering him? It’s better if you just both moved on. Especially since stuff like this has no relevance to your project. 

“I don’t really think about love at all,” you say curtly. 

“I wish you did,” admits Jungkook. 

The look in your eyes is distant. “Yeah.” You wish you did, too.

“How about we do a couple of quick shots, right here?” Jungkook suggests, pulling out the camera. “Just here, the lighting’s nice.” He jogs back a couple of feet, lining himself up with where you stand, kneeling on the pavement with the camera held up to his eye. 

“What do you want me to do?” You call to him, feeling like a fish out of water in front of the lens, thumbs twiddling. 

“Just smile,” Jungkook requests simply. “Say hi to me.”

Sounds easy enough. Under the twinkling lights of the trees, in the haze of their warm yellow glow, you wave to Jungkook, smiling happily. You aren’t exactly sure what the purpose of these shots are, but you suppose you could always use some artistic frames in your movie. Grinning, you keep your eyes trained on him, on the way you can see him smiling back at you even from behind the camera. His eyes are covered, you can’t see those, but you hope they’re smiling too. 

“Okay, my turn,” you say when a little too much time has passed, when it’s just past the point of filming for the sake of a movie and more for the sake of something else. “Get over here.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you idiot.” You scurry over to Jungkook, taking the camera from his hands and pushing in in the general direction of where you were just standing. Situating yourself, you kneel right where Jungkook was, bringing the camera to your eyes. 

Through the lens, you can see the entire width of the pathway, the grass that borders it, the lights decorating the branches of the trees, and Jungkook, front and center. He looks like he has no idea what he’s doing there, waiting awkwardly as he gazes around, eyes drifting everywhere but exactly where you need them: you. He looks good like this, looks much taller, much more romantic. Like a real movie star. Like a model. His clothes make him blend in with the darkness of the night but his eyes are still shimmering, golden flecks twinkling, even from all the way over here. 

You have to admit it. He’s beautiful.

“Smile,” you say, pressing film. 

Jungkook grins your way. 

Afterwards, you give him his camera back and continue walking, turning the corner as you reach the edge of the park, ready to circle around the perimeter.

“How about we hold hands, too?”

“Excuse you?” You say, an eyebrow raised. 

“Come on, just for a second,” Jungkook pleads. “For the artistry. I’ll film us holding hands like all those Los Angeles boys do in YouTube vlogs.”

You look at him suspiciously. Is he sure it’s just for the artistry? “What a great example.”

“Please? Promise I always put hand cream on,” Jungkook asks, bottom lip turned outwards. 

It’s getting harder and harder to say no to him. 

“Fine,” you cave rather easily this time around. “Just for a minute.”

“Excellent.”

Jungkook lifts the camera up to his eye with his right hand as he holds out his left, palm facing the sky as he waits for you to rest your own in his. You narrow your eyes to the camera before your gaze drifts downwards to his open hand, almost like you’re afraid it’s going to jump out and bite at you if you get any closer. But it won’t, because it’s a hand. And it won’t, because it’s just Jungkook. 

The first thing you realize when your fingers intertwine with his is how big his hands are. They are massive. His left one dwarfs your own, wrapping around it securely, enveloping it like a king-sized comforter. The second thing you realize is how soft they are (he must not have been lying about the hand cream). The third thing you realize is the way they send sparks up and down your body, send tingles through your skin, shocks through your veins. You seize up a little bit at the feeling before your body finds it in itself to relax, letting the sensation wash over you like a wave from the ocean. 

It’s new. 

It’s strange. 

You haven’t felt that way in a long time. Felt those sparks, those jolts of energy. Like lightning has struck. 

Jungkook moves so that your hands are held out in front of you, making sure to adjust the lens just so he can get the exact right angle, but all you can focus on is the way your fingers interlock, the way your hand settles into his. 

You wonder what that means. 

The moment Jungkook lowers the camera you pull your hand away, overwhelmed and scared and shocked all at once. Like you’re afraid that if you reach out to him again, your whole body will freeze in place, shake like the wind. 

Jungkook looks at you, concern lacing his features. “You alright?” He asks, genuine and worried. 

You shake your head, willing those thoughts away. “I’m fine, I’m fine. You get the shot?”

“Yeah, I did,” Jungkook says. 

“And how do they look?” You ask because you can’t help yourself. Because you just have to know. 

Jungkook pauses, not sure how to respond. He chews on his lips like he’s running through all the possible answers, trying to figure out which one is right. You almost think he’s not going to reply at all, but then he smiles, and he says this: 

“Magical.”

It feels weird for you to be arriving at Kim Taehyung’s door without Jungkook by your side. Doesn’t sit right in your stomach. 

Of course, Taehyung is as hospitable as always, welcoming you inside with his signature warm grin as he sets up the bar stools by the bedsheet, which you assume he will just not take down until your project’s over. Hopefully he’s getting use out of it otherwise, shooting nudes or whatever it is he said he would do. 

“Thanks for having me,” you say, resting your backpack against the foot of his couch as you set up the tripod, arranging it in just the right spot. It’s not Jungkook’s fancy camera that you’ve got with you, just your own from a couple years ago, but it’ll get the job done. You couldn’t ask Jungkook to borrow his, anyway. You’d pass away before he found out you did this. 

“We might not use this footage,” you warn in advance. “I just figured it’s safer to film everything just in case.”

“Why wouldn’t you use it?” Taehyung asks, genuinely curious. 

“Because I don’t know if this conversation will really have a point,” you say nervously, fingers fidgeting with the settings until everything’s just right. 

“I’m sure it’ll be important,” Taehyung assures you. You’re not so confident. “Ready to get started?”

“Yes, everything’s all set up,” you say, concentrating on your breathing as you make your way to the stool. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Why are you so worried?

“So, Y/N, how are you feeling right now?” Taehyung begins. 

You sigh. “Confused.”

“And why is that?”

“I… I don’t really know what direction I’m going in anymore for this project,” you say, letting yourself be candid and honest because it’s just Taehyung, and because you may not even use this footage, and because Jungkook’s not here. He doesn’t know you’ve asked Taehyung to do this for you. He doesn’t need to. 

“And is this because of Jungkook?”

“Yes.” Another easy answer. 

“How are you feeling about him?”

“I’m…” you don’t know where to begin. “I’m not sure. I just know that something’s changed.”

“Your feelings have changed?” Taehyung isn’t reacting, just asking questions in response to your answers and pretending that everything is normal, that this is just another interview. 

“I guess they have,” you admit. Even just saying that feels like a weight off your chest. A small one, five pounds out of a thousand. But it’s a difference. “I… don’t really know how I feel about him anymore.”

“In a good or bad way?”

Taehyung told you he would ask tough questions, but you don’t know if you can answer these anymore. 

“I don’t know,” you say, feeling yourself growing desperate with impatience. “I don’t feel the same things about him that I used to. He’s different to me now.”

“Do you think he’s changed?”

“Something has.”

“Have you considered the possibility that maybe you’ve changed, too?”

You frown, caught off-guard by his question. No, you haven’t. You haven’t thought about that at all. Why would you? Your stance is the same. Your opinions on love haven’t changed. And neither have your convictions about this project, about the way it will end. 

“No,” you say, nose scrunched up. 

“Well, I’m no expert, but I think there might be something between the two of you that wasn’t there before,” Taehyung says, nodding. “I think that the ways the two of you have changed have brought you together.”

“I don’t know about that…” You trail off. You can feel yourself growing hesitant again, pulling back from saying too much because you’ve never been a very good speaker. Because you’ve always preferred being behind the camera to being in front of it. 

“Don’t you think you should tell him how you feel?”

You scoff. At least that’s got an easy answer. A no-brainer. “No,” you say matter-of-factly, obvious because it is, stern because telling him was never an option anyway. Why else does Taehyung think you’re here without him? “Jungkook said he would get me to fall in love with him and I told him I would never. How could I ever let him think he was actually winning?”

Taehyung sighs.

You haven’t seen Jungkook since your class on Wednesday. Granted, it’s only Saturday, but it feels like it’s been a weirdly long time. Like you’re so used to him barging into your life on the daily that there’s something off about even going three days without seeing him. Maybe it’s just because you’re nearing the beginning of April and your project is finally picking up steam. Between the two of you, you almost definitely have more than two hour’s worth of footage, but the hard part will be paring it down and turning it into a forty-five minute documentary. No doubt you and Jungkook will be spending a lot of time together the week before it’s due. 

Just out of curiosity, you text him. Because you have no idea what he’s been getting up to. 

[March 28th, 1:05PM]

You: Hey, do you think we need to get together sometime this weekend?

Jungkook: i don’t think i can Jungkook: it’s my dance group’s show this weekend

You: Really? You: You didn’t tell me

Jungkook: been too busy

You: What time is your show tonight?

Jungkook: 7pm

You: Sounds good, I’ll be there

Jungkook: oh Jungkook: you don’t have to

You: I want to You: I’ll see you there!

That night, you drop by the grocery store beforehand to pick up a bouquet of flowers. You haven’t been a performing arts show for years now, especially not one where you actually know the people performing, but flowers are customary. Or so you’ve heard. 

You don’t know a single soul who has plans on seeing Jungkook’s dance group either, but the theater is a ten-minute walk away from campus and you’re happy to make the trek alone, especially because you know you’ll find someone you know soon enough. Sometimes it’s nice to walk by yourself, letting the streetlamps above your head illuminate your path, a faceless figure passing by others. It brings peace. And it gives you time to sift through your thoughts, organize them into neat little piles and brush away all of the dust. 

Admittedly, you are not much of a connoisseur of the performing arts. You aren’t even much of a consumer. In another universe, under different circumstances, you wouldn’t blink twice if you heard that one of the dance groups on campus was having their show. But this is not another universe, and these are not different circumstances. 

Jungkook will be there. He is taking something he’s worked tirelessly on and presenting it to the world. Now that you think about it, it’s actually a lot like film. And if Jungkook has devoted so much time, put so much energy into this performance, what kind of person would you be if you didn’t go and watch his creation?

You pick a seat in the far back corner, the venue so cozy that even despite being the furthest away you’ve still got an excellent view, sit down, and wait for it to begin. 

[March 28th, 6:58PM]

Jungkook: hey are you here?

You: I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?

Jungkook: always such a tease

You roll your eyes at that, turning your phone off and stowing it away in your pocket. Two minutes later, the lights dim. 

The moment Jungkook steps out onto the stage, you recognize him instantly. He’s wearing all black again, but it’s not the same skinny jeans and leather jacket he had on when he took you out to dinner. It’s a loose long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, highlighting the blondeness of his hair, the red in his lips. He’s one of at least a dozen people on stage but he’s the only one you focus on, the only one who your eyes follow. Booming throughout the theater is a Drake song, the beat thick and low, but it’s background noise when compared to the way he moves, the way he twists and turns his body on stage, angles sharp and crisp. 

The whole song goes by so quickly that by the time you find it in yourself to blink the stage is already darkening as they move onto the next song, switching out the performers and changing the spotlight colors to a sultry red. Jungkook disappears for this one, vanishing behind the curtains and forcing you to pay attention to the performance as a whole instead of just him. But you have to hand it to his group: they’re excellent. You’ve been missing out. 

Jungkook returns with the next song, having had just enough time to change into an all-white ensemble. He’s easy to spot even with that ridiculous bucket hat on, blonde hair bouncing with every step he takes, every jerk of his body. You can see it all the way from where you sit, see the way he loses himself in the music, lets the rhythm radiate through his blood, lets his heart match the beat that booms through the speakers. This, all of it, the music, the dancing, the energy—it’s all his. It belongs to him. Jungkook may love film but he is passionate about this. It is something that must bring him all the joy in the world. 

The next hour and a half goes by quickly, the songs jumping from one to another to another, Jungkook dashing on and off stage, each time returning in a different getup than the one prior. Makes you wonder just how many clothes he has. But before you know it the final song is playing and every one, every single member is on stage, jumping and cheering and celebrating a job well done. And they should, because they deserve to. 

When the lights in the theater come on, nobody leaves. Instead, everyone rushes towards the stage to say hello to everybody, congratulate them on their performance and take pictures with their friends. That’s why everyone else is here, isn’t it? Because the people they care about performed tonight. 

Isn’t that why you’re here, too?

Jungkook has plenty of other friends already wrapping their arms around him, giving him high-fives and pats on the back, but you’ve got a bouquet of assorted flowers in your hands and you have no plans on bringing them home. So you squeeze your way through the crowd, push yourself in between bodies, and you shout, 

“Jungkook!”

Jungkook looks up instantly at the call of his name, the round shape of his lips curving upwards into a smile when he sees you. 

“Hey, you made it!” He exclaims happily. He’s so pumped on the adrenaline that he pulls you into a hug without either of you even realizing it, wrapping his arms around your torso and squeezing you tight for a few moments before the two of you remember just exactly who you both are. Quickly, you pull away, chuckling awkwardly. Jungkook scratches at the back of his head. “Thanks for, uh—thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” you say happily. “You were amazing.”

“What can I say, I’m a man of many talents,” Jungkook schmoozes, annoying as always. 

You scoff slightly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Here, I brought this for you. It’s traditional, right?” You hold out the bouquet in front of you, pink plastic wrapping crunched up from where your fingers gripped the stems. 

“Wow, thank you,” Jungkook says, in awe as he takes the flowers from you, pressing his face into the petals instinctively. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.”

“Really?” You say, genuinely surprised at his admission. He’s never been given flowers before? Not even for a performance? You didn’t know that, either. “Then I’m glad to be the first.”

“You know you didn’t have to do that,” Jungkook says, though he looks grateful nonetheless. 

You shrug, acting casual. “Aren’t we supposed to be falling in love, or something?”

He grins. 

“Did you guys film this? Maybe we could incorporate it into the movie,” you suggest, thinking it might be interesting to add in glimpses into your normal lives, into the things you do when you aren’t trying to one-up each other. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “We did, but I don’t think we need to add it in.”

“Why not?” It seems like a perfect addition. 

Jungkook pulls out a single flower from the bouquet, a pale yellow daisy, and hands it to you. You smile your thanks, twirling the stem in between your fingers. 

“I don’t know,” he says, looking oddly soft, cheeks turning cherry red. He looks at you and it makes your heart flutter, quickens the drum of your chest. “I just think I’d like to keep this moment to ourselves.”

You suppose he’s got a point. You don’t think you’ll forget this night, either. 

The bouquet you gave him sits on Jeon Jungkook’s bedroom windowsill, bathing in the afternoon sun. Taehyung gave him some plant food the morning after you came to his performance, a little bottle that he can spritz into the water whenever the flowers look a little droopy. Jungkook adds some every day, determined to keep them alive for as long as possible. He also makes sure he’s got a rather heavy book or two, something he can use to press one of them when they’ve all shriveled up. 

It was really nice of you to come to his show, he thinks to himself. Jungkook can’t remember the last time someone outside of his group of close friends went to see him perform, not any of his past dates or even that one girl he was seeing semi-seriously for a couple months last year until she told him she wasn’t interested in him anymore. You’re the first one who’s made the effort, who’s told him that you would come and kept that promise. The flowers are just a happy reminder. 

As a celebration for completing their last show, Jungkook and some of the other juniors in his dance crew decide to go out the following weekend, determined to waste away their Saturday nights at a bar just off of campus where they can take as many shots of as many different types of alcohols as they want. The place even has soju, which makes Jungkook’s heart happy. 

Despite the temptation to drink until his brain is empty, however, Jungkook holds off. He’s got a lot of work tomorrow, most of it consisting of editing the footage you have for the project, and doesn’t really feel like staring at a computer for eight hours straight with a headache. So he limits himself. For the most part. 

“Who was that girl that came to the show?” One of his friends, Andrew, asks as he downs another shot of what is undoubtedly vodka, if the smell is anything to go by. “With the flowers?”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Jesse pipes up, red in the face from the alcohol in his system. He’s always been one to turn into a tomato after drinking. 

Jungkook chuckles awkwardly, shaking his head when the bartender offers him another shot glass full of soju. “No,” he says, forcing a laugh. “Just a friend.”

“I don’t know, you guys looked pretty close to me,” Andrew points out, like it wasn’t already obvious enough that Jungkook is head over heels for you. 

“She and I are working on a film project together,” Jungkook explains, though that does absolutely nothing to convince his friends of your completely platonic relationship. 

“Sounds fun,” Jesse says, swallowing another shot and wincing. “It was nice of her to bring you flowers. My girlfriend didn’t do that.”

“Shut up, your girlfriend is studying abroad in Paris right now,” Andrew says, giving Jesse a good-natured shove. “I’m gonna tell her you said that.”

“What, please don’t—”

“She’s not my girlfriend, guys,” Jungkook repeats himself, feeling his cheeks heat up the longer the conversation drags on. He chalks it up to the soju in his system and the fact that it feels like a sauna in here. “Seriously, we’re just friends. People can be friends and bring each other flowers.”

Jesse pumps his fist in the air. “Yeah!” He rounds on Andrew. “Where are my flowers, hey Andrew?”

The two of them start bickering as Jungkook laughs, shaking his head fondly. At least he’s not drunk, so he can remember nights like these, ones where he’s drinking with his stupid idiot friends, celebrating a show well done. 

Jungkook stays at the bar until eleven that night before he makes the executive decision to go home and sleep, because as much as he would like to party until three in the morning, he’s got a pile of work that’s telling him to be a real adult. So he bids his friends goodbye and begins to make the trek back to his apartment, passing by the row of frat houses on his way. 

Even though he’s out on the sidewalk, Jungkook can feel the ground rumble from the music, every frat on the block joining together to make some booming, bass monster. From here he can see the flashing blue and purple lights in the windows, see the brothers standing on the steps of each house and turning away whoever they deem unfit to enter. 

In a weird way, it makes Jungkook nostalgic. Reminiscent of when he was a freshman, when he would group up with all of the people in his hall and parade around the frat row on Saturday nights like they owned the place, getting drunk on shitty tequila and jumping until they sweat out their body fluids. He remembers those nights in flashes, bits and pieces that make up his memory of freshman year as a whole. Remembers kissing other girls, other girls kissing him. Remembers the way he would lock lips with them for a second and then forget about it by the next day. 

Jungkook wonders why he ever thought he would meet his soulmate at a frat party. 

He’s just passing the last frat house now, nodding to the guy on the step when they accidentally meet eyes, when he hears you call his name. 

“Jungkook!”

He whips around to see you on the other side of the road, waving at him excitedly while your friends all laugh, sending smiles Jungkook’s way. 

Jungkook isn’t exactly sure what the protocol is for a scenario like this, so he does what he thinks is right and waves back. 

“Come over here!” You shout at him, loosely gesturing for him to join your group. Jungkook is hesitant, not sure if that’s necessarily the best course of action because even from here he can tell that you’re drunk, leaning over to one side and giggling at nothing. But even if he isn’t sure what will happen he can’t help but fall into the way you’re beaming at him, waving excitedly because you saw him on the street and you wanted to say hello.

He’s never been able to resist you. 

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” He says as he jogs over, greeting the rest of your friends with a patient smile. 

“Went out with my friends,” you say. Jungkook can smell the alcohol on your lips. “And then I saw you, which made me happy!”

You stumble over nothing, shoes skipping as they drag along the pavement, and before any of your friends can react Jungkook is reaching his arms out, catching you before you fall flat on your face. Your hands press against his torso as he lifts you back to your feet, and all Jungkook can do is pray that you can’t hear the way his heart races, beat drumming in his ears. You giggle in his hold, disoriented but not at all uneasy, looking up at him as your eyes sparkle in the glow of the streetlamps. 

“Thanks,” you manage to cough out. 

“Sure,” Jungkook says, breathless. He stands you up and tries to let you go, but you keep your hands tight around his wrists. “I think we need to get you home.”

“Can you come with me?” You ask innocently, eyes wide. 

“Y/N…” One of your friends says, voice hesitant. She places a hand on your shoulder, looking concerned. Jungkook doesn’t take any offense to it, he doesn’t know your friends well and imagines that they would much prefer being the ones to drop you back at your place. 

You shrug her off. “No, it’s okay, Ruby,” you assure your friend, hand inching down Jungkook’s wrist until it rests firmly within his palm. “I’ll go with him.”

Ruby eyes Jungkook suspiciously and her gaze is so intense that it actually makes him doubt his ability to walk you home for a moment. But you seem intent on walking with him, and the sooner you go home the better, so Ruby relents and lifts her hand from your shoulder. “Alright, if you want to.” She keeps her eyes trained on Jungkook. “Text me when you’re back.”

“I will, I will,” you say, brushing her off and waving her away. “Let’s go, Jungkook. I’m sleepy.”

“Okay, come on,” he says. You smile happily at your friends as you say goodbye, cheerful and drunk and tired, all at once, and you begin to walk towards your apartment. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” you tell him, positively filter-less. 

“I’m glad I’m here, too,” Jungkook assures you. “What did you have to drink tonight?”

“Not sure,” you admit happily. “Just a lot.”

“I can tell.” Jungkook nods. “Were you at a frat party?”

“Several,” you correct him. “They weren’t that fun but at least the drinks were free.”

“Why were you at a frat party if you don’t like them?” Jungkook asks you, nose scrunched up. You certainly aren’t the kind of person to hide your distaste for things. That is something that Jungkook is intimately familiar with. 

You shrug. “It’s the cheapest place to get drunk.”

“Why did you want to get drunk?” This is seeming more and more out-of-character for you. Going to a place you despise, taking shots until you can’t walk straight, meandering around campus with Jungkook. All of these are things Jungkook could never in a million years picture you doing out of free will. 

Well, all of them except maybe the last one. You did come to his dance show, after all. 

You sigh. It’s thick and heavy and Jungkook has a feeling you won’t want to divulge any more. “I just wanted to forget.”

But the curiosity is eating at him. 

“Forget what?”

Your grip on his hand tightens. Jungkook fully expects you to dodge the question like you’ve dodged all of the ones prior, say something else to change the topic so you can sweep this discussion under the rug like all of the other ones you’ve had. But you don’t. 

Instead, you say, “You wanna know why I don’t love love the way you do?”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Jungkook quickly assures you. 

“I had better options than this place,” you say, voice hollow and empty. “There were better universities that accepted me. Ones with higher-ranked film programs and bigger scholarships. I could have gone to any one of them and been just as happy. Maybe more.”

“But you didn’t,” Jungkook clarifies. 

“My ex-boyfriend goes to school ten minutes away from here,” you say, words that are most certainly news to Jungkook. You had a boyfriend? “He and I dated all throughout high school. I thought I was gonna marry him.”

The words sound so sad. It sounds like they don’t even belong to you. Like you’re recalling the memories of a different person, someone you’ve killed and buried, someone you were certain you would never have to face again. Yourself. Your past self. 

“And then he broke up with me at the beginning of last year and it was too late to transfer out.” Your words are slurred and garbled, like all you want is to get over with saying them in the first place. It’s not a dramatic revelation. It’s not something you’re crying about, sobbing into Jungkook’s chest as you remember, miserable, a time where you were once happy. You just sound lifeless. 

Jungkook blinks at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. It doesn’t feel right for him to speak up. Not when you’ve just revealed to him something so personal, so drunk that you probably won’t even remember saying anything when you wake up tomorrow morning. 

What is he supposed to do with this knowledge? What is he supposed to say? To do? It’s not like Jungkook can change your past. It’s not even as if he can change the near future. Your project is almost finished—the semester is almost over. And then you will return to the time where you never even knew each other. 

“You can say something,” you tell him.

“What do you want me to say?” Jungkook says. 

“Something to make me feel better, because now I’m sad,” you request simply. “Seeing you made me happy.”

“Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut and smile, then,” he muses to himself. 

“No, please keep talking,” you plead, leaning into his body with your bottom lip puffed out, eyes big and round and desperate. “Listening to you gets me to stop thinking about this stuff.”

Hearing that, Jungkook says the first thing that comes to mind. And that is, “You don’t have to think about that stuff anymore at all.”

“Hmm?” You murmur into his chest. Jungkook sees your apartment building up ahead. Just another block or so. 

“Well, that was your old love story,” he begins tentatively. Jungkook’s almost fully sober by now but he feels like he won’t ever get another opportunity to say this, and maybe whatever soju is left in his system is enough to get him through this conversation. Enough for him to muster up the confidence to tell you what he’s been wanting to tell you for a while now. 

Even if you forget it by tomorrow. He knows this is his only chance. 

“And it didn’t have a happy ending, but that’s okay. Because ours will.” 

You’re just coming up to your apartment complex, the rusted gold doors of the entrance sticking out against the beige of the building and the sidewalk, shimmering in the light of the streetlamps. You pause right outside, taking cover underneath the red awning above your heads. Looking up at him, you blink expectantly. 

“How do I know you mean that?” You ask. 

He almost does it. 

Jungkook doesn’t really know what washes over him in that moment, what takes his heart and mind prisoner for a split second, grip tight and unforgiving. But he’s staring straight into your watery eyes, glossy and glimmery and glowing, lost in the way you press your lips together, the way you gaze up at him and wait for him to tell you what he’s always wanted to say, and he almost does it. His hands press at your sides, holding you close, like he’s afraid that if he lets you go you’ll vanish without another trace and this night will all have been for naught. 

But he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t for a lot of reasons. You’re drunk. When you wake up tomorrow, you will not remember this conversation. But Jungkook will. And if he does it, if he kisses you, if he presses his lips to yours it will be burned into his thoughts, carved into his heart, and you will be none the wiser. Jungkook can’t do that to himself. And he can’t do that to you, either. He will never take advantage of your company. He never has.

“Because,” Jungkook says instead, having hesitated for far too long. “I promise you.”

It’s good enough for him. 

He tucks you into bed at 12:17AM that night, feet padding along your hardwood floor so he doesn’t wake up your neighbors, guiding you to your bedroom and reminding you to text Ruby that you made it home safely. Jungkook’s never gotten a very good look at your place, and even now it’s hard to make out most things without the main ceiling lights on, but he doesn’t really want to snoop. Even though you invited him in, he still feels like he’s intruding. You’ve always been so private. There were a lot of things said tonight that Jungkook is going to have to reckon with. 

Once you’re curled up beneath your sheets, eyes drooping, Jungkooks turns off the light on your nightstand and nearly, just about nearly, presses his lips to your forehead. He manages to avoid doing that, too. 

Instead, he pulls up your duvet and heads towards the main room, making a beeline for your front door. But before he can leave the room, he hears you mumble out his name. 

“Jungkook?” You call, voice groggy. 

“Yeah?” He looks back at you from where he stands in your door frame, one hand on the knob, ready to pull it closed. 

You smile, eyes fluttering. “Thank you,” you say. 

Jungkook grins. 

The next morning you wake up with a pounding headache and three missed calls from Ruby, which undoubtedly means that something positively terrible happened last night. Unfortunately, you have no idea what happened at all last night, good or terrible, so whatever Ruby has to say will be news to you. 

Rubbing your eyes as you wrack your brain in the hopes of figuring out how you even ended up back at your apartment (when you swear you told Ruby you would stay at hers), you press on Ruby’s contact and call her. 

“Y/N? Hello? Are you there?” Ruby answers on the first ring. 

“I’m here,” you mumble out, words jumped and barely intelligible. You wince as your eyes adjust to the harsh blue light of your phone screen, squinting as you look at the time. 

Shit, it’s 11:43AM and you’re meeting Jungkook for coffee at noon. 

“Good, I called you three times last night after you texted,” Ruby wastes no time diving into her interrogation. 

“Why?” You ask, scrambling out of bed with your phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear. Your head throbs so you quickly take some Ibuprofen, splash your face with water, and start looking for something clean you can put on. 

“Because texting me ‘home’ is not enough!” Ruby exclaims. “Jungkook walked you home last night, I wanted to make sure you were tucked in bed and feeling alright.”

You frown. You don’t remember that. Granted, you don’t remember a lot of things, but you can’t recall Jungkook walking you back. You saw him last night? You didn’t even know. Scratching your head, a part of you vaguely pictures him standing in your apartment in the dark, resting against the door frame to your bedroom in the warm yellow light of the lamp on your nightstand. Can just barely see him tucking you into bed, placing the sheets over your figure and making you text Ruby that you’re home. You thought you were just imagining it at the time, but it must have happened anyway. 

“Jungkook walked me home?”

“Yeah, you insisted,” Ruby says. “You probably don’t remember, though.”

“No,” you say dumbly. 

“Well, I appreciate you texting me that you were home but I would have preferred something more explanatory,” scolds Ruby. “I thought maybe Jungkook was gonna do something.”

“Oh my goodness, no,” you immediately interject, pulling on your shoes and stuffing your laptop into your backpack. Just the thought of Jungkook doing something like that sends your stomach for a whirl. “He would never do that. I trust him.”

“I mean, I see that now,” Ruby points out. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” you promise. “Everything’s good.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Ruby says, still sounding a bit like an overprotective mother. You love her, though. You know she just wants the best for you. “Take it easy today, okay? You had a lot to drink last night.”

“I will,” you assure her. “I’m just on my way to meet up with Jungkook now. Getting coffee.”

“Make sure to eat, too,” Ruby reminds you. “And tell Jungkook that I said thanks for walking you home.”

“Anything else, Mom?”

You can practically see Ruby frowning on the other end. “Oh, shut up. I’ll see you, okay?”

She bids you goodbye just as you’re dashing out the door, your usual stride quickening so you make it to the cafe in time, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting. You make it there in a record five minutes, pulling open the door frantically just as the clock strikes noon. 

Jungkook’s already there, of course, sitting by a little round table in the corner of the room with two americanos on the table. He waves when he sees you standing by the entrance, and the mere sight of him makes you smile, shoulders relaxing. 

“Hey,” you greet, a little out of breath as you settle into the chair across from him. 

“Hey,” Jungkook says back. “How are you feeling?”

“My head is killing me, but other than that I’m alright,” you admit, taking a sip of the drink. It’s piping hot but just the right amount of scalding, warming your insides after a night of filling them with pure poison. 

“Good.” He grins. “It’s nice to see your face.”

“Oh, yeah, speaking of which,” you say while still on the topic, “did you walk me home last night? I can’t remember.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, I bumped into you and your friends while I was on my way back from a bar.”

You wince. The fact that you don’t even remember that happening tells you enough. “I was super drunk, wasn’t I?”

Jungkook, nice as always, says, “I’ve seen worse.” It only makes you feel the slightest bit better. 

“Hope I didn’t say anything embarrassing,” you say, knowing you have a tendency to lose your filter almost entirely when you get wasted, letting any sort of mental reasoning fly out the door the moment you down another shot. And the thought of having told Jungkook something deeply humiliating or personal, or even him witnessing something stupid, makes you feel weirdly exposed. 

Jungkook freezes for a split second, almost like he’s buffering, like he’s about to say something but it’s just taking him an extra step to get the words out of his mouth. Then he takes a quick sip of his americano and shakes his head. “No, you didn’t. You were just very drunk. And clingy.”

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that,” you apologize. You can’t imagine the hell you must have put Jungkook through last night. 

Jungkook laughs. “It’s okay. I’m glad we got you home safe.”

“Me, too.” You nod. You send a grateful smile his way. “Thanks for walking me, by the way. I really appreciate it. Ruby says thanks, too.”

“Anytime,” Jungkook says. It doesn’t sound like something that people say just to say it. The way that people say ‘anytime’ just so they can be friendly and amicable. He says it and he means it, says it genuinely and honestly, like it’s a real promise that he’s making. That he would be happy to walk you home again. No matter the hour. No matter how drunk you are. No matter what he’s doing. 

And that means a lot to you. 

“We should probably wrap up filming soon, huh?” You say, getting onto the topic at hand. Of course, the project is the whole reason you’re even talking to each other in the first place. “It’s due in three weeks.”

“Yeah, I was thinking of another outing? And maybe one more thing with Taehyung?” Jungkook suggests. 

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “‘Another outing’, Jungkook? What exactly do you have in mind?”

He grins. 

This time, Jungkook is the one with the flowers. 

When you open your front door they’re the first thing you see, an enormous bouquet of an assortment of spring flowers in a variety of colors—pinks and purples and oranges and yellows—gripped neatly in Jungkook’s hand. They stick out against his otherwise rather formal attire, a simple black dress shirt and jeans, nice shoes that compliment his figure. Black truly is the world’s most slimming color, and Jungkook is no exception. He looks good. 

“For you, m’lady,” Jungkook says dramatically as he holds out the bouquet in front of him.

“How thoughtful of you,” you muse to yourself, grinning. You take the flowers and press your whole face into them, breathing in the fresh scent. “The one I gave you wasn’t nearly this big.”

“Go big or go home,” Jungkook teases. “You look nice, by the way.”

“You always sound so surprised when you say that,” you comment snidely, shaking your head as you grab your bag from the shelf next to your door. “What are we doing tonight, Jeon? Gonna keep it a secret from me like last time?”

“That depends,” Jungkook says knowingly. “Do you like secrets?”

“You should know what I like by now,” you remark. 

“Then prepare to be wowed.” He grins, taking your hand in his as he pulls you out the door. 

The restaurant you go to this time does not require a ten minute drive to the center of town. Instead, it’s a five minute walk from campus and actually happens to be a place you’ve been to before. It’s a busy little thing on a Friday night, waiters bustling about with trays in their hands, people laughing and smiling under the dim light of the chandeliers. You’ve only been here once, long ago, for a club dinner paid for by the finance chair, and for good reason. It’s not the kind of place cheap college students looking to get the most food for the least amount of money go to. 

“Isn’t this a bit out of budget for our rom-com?” You ask as the host seats you at your table, a little booth in the middle of the restaurant, lanterns resting on the corners of the seats. 

“I thought this was a mockumentary,” Jungkook jokes. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, resisting the smile that fights its way across your face. Trust you to make that sort of blunder in front of him. “I mean it, though. This place is expensive.”

“It’s manageable,” Jungkook promises. “I’ve been saving up. Plus, I thought you deserved a nice night out.”

“How generous of you.”

“Oh, come on, I know you’re excited,” he narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t have to act like a stone-cold robot anymore.”

“Well…” you suppose enough is enough. Jungkook can see right through you anyway, so there’s no point in keeping up this indifferent facade of yours. “Only because you’re treating me so nicely.”

“Just please don’t order the steak,” he requests simply. 

You laugh. “No problem. Maybe we could just share a couple of appetizers?”

Jungkook likes the sound of that. 

Luckily, this is not one of those restaurants where the appetizers cost an arm and a leg and are the size of your pinky finger. You and Jungkook split three different ones, happy to scoop out portions for each of you and indulge in them together. 

Dinner dates—of which this is only sort of one—are always awkward because you spend half of the time shoving food into your mouth, but you and Jungkook don’t seem to mind the silence at all. Only, Jungkook does look sort of like he’s holding back.

“Is this enough food for you?” You ask him halfway through, distantly remembering how he absolutely devoured a whole plate of pasta last time and still having enough room in his stomach to finish yours. 

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks over a mouthful of vegetables. 

“You ate so much at the Italian place, I just want to make sure you aren’t still hungry,” you point out. 

“Oh.” Jungkook pauses, swallowing down the bite in his mouth. “No, I’m okay. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say. You hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should say anything else. But what the hell, right? It’s Jungkook. It’s Jungkook and he walked you home when you were drunk, he gave you flowers, he let you borrow his jacket. And you feel as though you must return the favor. “Anytime.”

He smiles. 

Despite the pure ecstasy you both experience when eating delicious food, Jungkook makes sure not to waste this time and grabs a few frames of you eating with his camera. He always seems to have that with him whenever he’s with you, hanging around his neck or stuffed into his backpack or crammed into his pants pocket. Sort of makes you wonder just how much footage the two of you have of each other. 

He insists on paying but you send him some money anyway, just because letting him shoulder the burden of a place as expensive (for college students, at least) as this just doesn’t sit right with you. Whenever he receives the Venmo notification on his phone, Jungkook frowns and says that he’ll send that money back to you, but he never does and you can tell that he really does appreciate it. 

You don’t think you have any plans on stopping that for a while. 

The only downside of going to this restaurant is that there is no gorgeous, light-strung park in the vicinity the two of you can wander around. Just your campus, which you have no doubt walked a thousand times over, and the streets surrounding it, which you have memorized like the back of your hand. 

It almost makes you think that Jungkook is just going to drop you back off at your place and the night will end there, but you know better than to expect something like that from Jungkook. Instead, as you’re walking, you point out the cafe that you and Ruby always go to, see that it’s closing in half-an-hour, and Jungkook decides then and there that it’s your next destination. 

“You’ve never been here before?” You ask when you walk inside, eyes immediately drifting to the display of pastries beside the register. 

“I’m not normally on this side of campus,” Jungkook admits. “You’re the only reason I’m ever here.”

“Then hopefully after finding this place, you’ll have two reasons,” you say cheerfully. The baristas behind the counter know you on a first-name basis, are happy to help you out even though they’ve no doubt been working long hours and are ready to close up shop and go home. 

You split a tiramisu and sit at that same corner table you and Ruby always pick, empty now that it’s so late at night. Other than the employees, you and Jungkook are the only ones in here, a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, filled to the brim with people, the smell of cooked food wafting through the air. 

 The tiramisu isn't as fresh as it would be bright and early in the morning, but you suppose that that just means you and Jungkook will have to come back. Besides, Jungkook obviously does not seem to mind, scarfing it down ruthlessly. You’re in and out just as they close up shop, the employees bidding you goodbye like old friends, sending you on your way. There’s not really much else either of you have planned for tonight, and Jungkook isn’t coming up with any new ideas as he checks his phone. Instead, you just begin to head back to your apartment, all wrapped up in each other. You place your hand in his own and feel yourself relax when he squeezes, a silent little reminder that he’s still here, and that so are you.

Funnily enough, holding hands feels natural to you at this point. 

“Tonight was fun,” you comment, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah, glad we could do this,” Jungkook agrees. “Makes me kind of sad to know that this thing is almost over.”

“What, the project?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Yeah. And the class. And the semester. It’s kind of scary. We’ll be seniors next year.”

You chuckle. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I still have no idea what I’m going to do after we graduate.”

“You don’t have to know everything,” Jungkook reassures you. “As long as you’re happy with what you have now.”

“Are you?” You inquire, looking up to meet his eyes. 

Jungkook beams down at you. “I am.”

The walk from the cafe to your apartment is short, just under five minutes, but it feels like it takes you an hour, footsteps slow and languid, like neither of you want the night to end. You hit every red light, round every corner, drawing out the evening for as long as you can. Unfortunately, there is only so much you can do on a five-minute walk, and before you know it, you’re home.

“This is me,” you say, stopping outside the gold doors of your apartment complex. “Thanks again for tonight.”

“Anytime,” Jungkook says, a common thread in your conversations. 

“Really?” You ask, skeptical. “Our project’s almost over.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to stop doing this,” Jungkook says. 

You narrow your eyes. “What are you implying, huh, Jungkook?”

“This.”

Before you know it, he’s wrapping one hand around your waist and pulling you in close to him, your palms splayed out against his broad, toned chest, pressing his lips to yours. You gasp a little into the feeling, somewhat shocked he would dare be so bold even after all this time, but find yourself sinking into the touch. He tastes like coffee and cream, like peppermint from his chapstick, like the wine you shared tonight. You cave into the way he holds you, hands wrapped around your body, palms pressed firmly against your figure. He holds you like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to remind himself that you’re real and here and that you are kissing him back, like he’ll forget once the moment ends. 

But he need not worry about that. 

When you part, you don’t even bother wiping off the stupid smile on your face, kiss-drunk and filled with glee. It’s been a long time since you felt this way. And Jungkook makes you feel things you don’t even think you can explain. 

“How bold of you,” you comment, noses touching, barely an inch away from each other. 

“I figured I’d shoot my shot,” Jungkook says. He shrugs, pretending to be casual, but you can see the way he’s grinning, beaming, down at you. 

“You scored,” you remind him.

“How observant of you,” teases Jungkook in return. You pout a little at his playful mockery, heart fond. “Think we can do it again?”

“Hmm, I would tone down the ego first,” you say, already leaning back in to press your lips against his. 

“Never.” He smiles wickedly. 

It’s a quicker kiss this time, a short peck against his cherry red mouth, but it still makes your heart beat something terribly fierce. 

“See you soon?” You ask when you finally pull away, knowing that as much as you’d like to, you can’t just stand out here kissing each other forever. 

Jungkook nods, cheeks pink and warm to the touch. He looks so sleek in his formal black outfit, crisp button-down and slacks, hair all styled, but the way he’s grinning at you makes him look so young, so sublimely happy. It’s nice. 

“Anytime.”

“There’s my favorite couple!” Taehyung greets excitedly when he swings open the door to his apartment to reveal you and Jungkook standing on the other side. 

“What’s it to you?” You comment snidely as he lets you inside, the black sheet still taped up along his wall. It looks a little more wrinkled than when you last saw it. 

“Oh, nothing,” Taehyung singsongs. He definitely knows a lot more than he cares to tell either you or Jungkook, but whatever. The project’s almost over and he’s almost finished with university entirely. “You guys are just cute together, that’s all.”

“Like you even know the half of it.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes. 

Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows. “Ooh, do tell.” He grins that greasy, comic-book-villain grin of his as he starts moving his bar stools back to where the sheet lines his cream-colored wall. 

“Isn’t that the whole point of this?” Jungkook poses, making you laugh from where you’re seated on the couch, watching Jungkook set up his tripod in exactly the place he wants it. You smile at him as you recline against Taehyung’s poor old leather couch, so worn-down from use that the back cushions fold in when you press against them, and Jungkook peers out from behind the camera to blow you a kiss. 

You send him one back without even needing to think. 

Taehyung misses the whole scene, but no doubt he’ll be putting two and two together pretty soon. You and Jungkook agreed that for the last interview you would be questioned together, long before Jungkook actually managed to romance you off your feet, and there’s not a doubt in your mind that the two of you being interviewed side-by-side will make things much more interesting. 

Nevertheless, Jungkook sets up the camera and sends a thumbs-up your way when he’s ready, Taehyung sitting on the bar stool just outside of the frame with a couple of index cards in his hand. 

“Let’s do this,” you say, hauling yourself onto the seat. Jungkook does the same shortly after, scooching onto the one next to you as you stare at Taehyung, waiting for him to start. 

“Looking forward to this one?” Taehyung asks knowingly. 

You shrug nonchalantly. “Just a little.”

“Excellent. Shall we begin?”

You and Jungkook nod. 

“Alright. Well, this is presumably the last thing the two of you will be filming for your project. How are you feeling about it?”

“It turned out better than I thought it would,” you admit. It will come as a shock to no one that you did not have very high hopes for this project when it was first assigned. 

“Of course it did, I’m your partner,” Jungkook teases, poking you in your side. “Would you ever doubt me?”

“Always,” you say.

Taehyung chuckles. “Sounds like it’s been good so far. Did you enjoy filming it?”

You nod. “Yeah, it was actually kind of fun. Except for when Jungkook spilled coffee all over me, that was not cool.” You turn to face Jungkook directly, and all he does when you say his name is wink and point at you. 

“It was for the rom-com, I don’t know what you expected,” Jungkook said. “I gave you my jacket, too.”

“How gentlemanly.”

Taehyung chuckles, warm and low. “I’m sure Jungkook learned his lesson,” he muses. “What was your favorite thing to film?”

Not when I randomly texted you five minutes before I showed up at your door to make you ask me questions about how I feel, you think to yourself. Jungkook still doesn’t know, but you think you’ll put it into the movie just for the hell of it, so he’ll find out then. Find out that you were grappling with your feelings for him long before you ever let on.

“The serenade was a blast, a special shoutout to the Eighth Notes for doing that for me,” Jungkook says immediately. Obviously that is at the top of his list. “Plus, I just like seeing Y/N all flustered.”

“Shut up, you’re so annoying,” you chide. “I guess the serenade was kind of cute. I liked going out together, though. On our not-date.”

Jungkook objects to that instantly. “It was a date, Y/N!”

You look back at him, equally as scandalized as he. “Whose turn is it to talk?”

“Mine, actually,” Taehyung interjects. “Did you like going out together?”

You sigh a little, wondering if you’re really about to turn into a softie in front of a camera for a movie to be shown to your twenty classmates and professor. “Yeah,” you say, real and true because that’s what you agreed on, you and Jungkook. To be candid. To be honest. To say how you felt. Really. “It was really nice. I hadn’t gone out with someone like that in a long time.”

“And were you happy because of the project, or because of Jungkook?”

“Well,” you begin, not exactly sure where to start. “I guess, it’s like… you know, I didn’t even know Jungkook before this project. I mean, I knew who he was, he would always respond to my discussion board posts and object to everything I said in class. But I didn’t know him as a person. But as we worked on this project together, planning and filming and editing, I started to. And we did so many things together. And I guess I just really enjoyed the time we did spend as a pair.”

“Would you say the same, Jungkook?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says easily. “That’s what I wanted. To get to know Y/N, to spend time with her. I was glad we had this project. Otherwise, we might never have done something like this.”

“You both seem very happy.”

“I think we are. This project was actually sort of a blessing in disguise. I know him a lot better, now,” you say. “I’m glad that I do. He makes me smile, and laugh, and I always feel happy when he’s around. I don’t know. He did it, somehow.”

“Jungkook?”

“It wasn’t just me. Y/N and I did this together. We made this. This project. Us. It wasn’t just her, or just me. It’s ours.” Jungkook grins.

“Are you glad you did this project?”

Of course. It was fun, and I liked filming it, and I feel like I got something really important out of it. I know it’s just a short rom-com mockumentary, but it really feels like there was a happy ending, you know? A happily ever after.”

“You seem really certain about that.”

“Well,” Jungkook says with a little scoff, “what else would you call it?”

“As you can see, obviously Y/N fell head over heels in love with me thanks to this wonderful project—”

“Why are you always so full of yourself—?”

“Hey, you’re ruining the voiceover! As I said, as you can see, Y/N fell head over heels in love with me, but that wasn’t just because of my dashing good looks and amazing singing skills.”

“The ends of your hair look like hay—”

“It was because we were honest with each other, and because we spent meaningful moments together, and because we kept our hearts open. And I guess that’s the truth of it all, isn’t it? Love, romance, relationships? If you close yourself off, you’ll never get to experience them. But if you take every opportunity with an open mind, then you never know what might happen. Like falling in love with your discussion board nemesis.”

“Who, me?”

“Just let me finish, come on. There’s like one paragraph left. I know this was a mockumentary, not a scripted rom-com with professional actors and screenwriters and a whole team of editors. But that was the whole point. To make it real. And to make it between two people who aren’t just characters on a screen. We’re real people, and this happened to us. And it makes us happy. And it can happen to you, too. I think we all learn something every time we watch a new movie. Whether it be about loss, or promises, or other people. This time, we learned about love. Real love. How it can be rocky and strange and come straight out of left field. But also how happy endings aren’t just for movies and fairytales. We all deserve them. And Y/N and I found our own.”

“Are you gonna say it?”

“And so… they lived happily ever after.”

You look up at the screen, expecting to see the credits roll, but instead it’s a shot of the two of you kissing outside of your apartment building, a shot of you wrapping your arms around him as you press your lips to his. It lasts for only a few seconds, but you find yourself entranced in the moment, shocked that Jungkook somehow managed to capture it on film. He didn’t even have his camera with him that night. 

Pollack turns on the lights in your classroom as your fellow classmates applaud, all of them looking genuinely pleased that your rom-com had such a wonderful ending. Pollack herself looks rather proud, nodding to herself as she smiles at the two of you. 

“You filmed us kissing?” You hiss to Jungkook as your classmates clap, hoping the sound of it will drown out your conversation. 

“I got Taehyung to,” Jungkook whispers back. “Why?”

“I just… I thought that night was just for us.”

“The rest of it is. But I thought the kiss would be a cute way to end it. You know, happy ending and everything.”

Alright, if Jungkook insists. You nod, tensing up slightly. You hadn’t even noticed Taehyung down the street, standing behind some utility pole with the camera raised to his eye. Had Jungkook texted him in secret? Asked him to meet you outside of your apartment? Was he planning on kissing you from the very beginning?

You shake your head, willing away the thoughts as Pollack commends the two of you for a job well done. Jungkook and you stand at the front of the room for a few more seconds, getting stared down by your fellow classmates while Pollack speaks. The period ends just as she finishes up, the minutes changing the moment she closes her mouth. Within a minute or so, the whole class has emptied out, some of them congratulating you and Jungkook on the way out. 

“I’ll meet you outside, okay?” Jungkook says, eyes bright and filled with that same wonder he’s always got. 

“Yeah,” you say distantly, nodding to him as he disappears out the door. 

“You did an excellent job, Y/N,” Pollack praises, and it goes right to your head, if you’re being honest. “It was brilliant.”

“Thanks,” you say, suddenly rather shy. “That means a lot.”

“Don’t tell anyone else this,” she says, voice quiet, “but I was secretly hoping the two of you would fall in love.”

“Pollack!”

She laughs. “What? I thought you’d make a cute couple. And you do, so clearly it all worked out anyway.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s against the code of conduct,” you say, even though you know you can’t be too mad at her. After all, you wouldn’t have Jungkook if it weren’t for her. 

“Y/N, I’m tenured. I don’t care.”

“Wait…” you pause, eyes narrowing, “how many of your students have you set up with each other?”

Pollack grins. “I never reveal my secrets.”

Your mouth drops open. 

She chuckles, shooing you out the door. “Go on, go be with your boyfriend. You can tell him you both get A pluses for your project. It was excellent. One of the best I’ve seen in a very long time.”

“Thanks, Pollack,” you say, smiling gratefully. “You’re the best.”

She points at you proudly as you head out the door. “So are you.”

Jungkook is waiting by the tables where you always sit, half a flight down from your classroom. He’s leaning against the edge of them as he scrolls mindlessly through his phone, so engrossed in the Instagram explore page that he doesn’t see you walk up. 

“Guess what,” you say, getting all up in his face, just because you can. 

“What,” Jungkook says, an eyebrow raised. 

“We got an A plus on our project!” You exclaim happily, cheering. Jungkook laughs at your exuberant reaction, watches as you jump around, clapping loudly. 

“Hell yeah, we did that!” Jungkook holds his hand up for a high five, one you gladly take. Your palms smack together and the sound reverberates around the hallway. 

“You know, you and I—” you begin, placing your palms on his cheeks as you pull yourself in for a kiss, “we make a pretty good team.”

“Only because you’re so good at editing,” Jungkook says. You’re both not too bad, if you do say so yourself, but since Jungkook did so much of the filming you thought it would be better if you carried more of the weight when it came to post-production. 

“Says you,” you tease, pressing your lips to his button nose. “The happy ending thing was a nice touch, I liked it. Makes me feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”

“I’m glad,” Jungkook says with a chuckle, admiring the way you beam at him. “You know, I was really worried that you might think we didn’t have a happy ending after all, especially after everything.”

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

“Well, I just really wanted to make sure that we had a happy ending, because you’ve been through so much.”

You pause in place, eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him. Been through so much? Does Jungkook know something you don’t? Wait, no, did you… did you tell him—?

“You knew?” You ask, the realization piercing you like an arrow. “All this time, and you never said anything?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. 

“How long have you known?”

He winces. “Since I walked you home when you were drunk. You told me.”

You did?

Shit.

“And you didn’t think that maybe you should have told me that you knew? Especially when I asked you if I had said anything embarrassing?” You cry out, indignant. “What, were you just planning on never telling me?”

“I was going to, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to know that you had admitted all those things to me,” Jungkook admits, growing desperate. “They were really personal things, I thought you might react badly.”

“Oh, so you just decided to keep it a secret instead? Look how well that worked out.”

“What was I supposed to do, Y/N? I know you would have been upset.”

“Tell me!” You exclaim. “I asked you if I had said something embarrassing that night and you said I hadn’t. And I believed you. Better to have known then than now!”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t just tell me. Didn’t we say we would be honest with each other? But instead, you just let me assume that all of the nice things you did for me were because you actually cared, and not because you felt bad for me?”

“I don’t feel bad for you!” Jungkook shouts. “I mean, I do, but that’s not why I took you out on dates and gave you flowers and held your hand. I do care about you.”

“Oh, so filming us kissing was just because you actually cared, too, right?”

“I don’t know why you’re so hung up about that,” Jungkook points out. 

“Because I thought it was a private moment,” you remind him. “You hadn’t filmed anything the whole night. I thought we were just going out on a date like two people who cared about each other did. Us kissing was personal. But you texted Taehyung and told him to show up with his camera anyway, right? Because you were planning on kissing me from the very beginning. Because you knew, Jungkook. You knew and you had absolutely no intention of telling me.”

“Y/N, wait, I didn’t do those things just because I pitied you,” Jungkook says, reaching out for your hand. 

You pull away. “You didn’t? Then why did you film us kissing, then?”

“Because…” he flounders. You aren’t at all surprised. “Because—”

“Enough, Jungkook. I get it,” you stop him, shaking your head. “Everything we’ve done since that first date we had, when we went to the Italian place, everything since then—it was all played up. Because you felt bad for me. I had a shitty experience with love and you wanted to make me feel better. Whatever.”

“Y/N, it wasn’t like that,” Jungkook chases after you as you begin to walk down the stairs, towards the exit. “I didn’t pity you. I still don’t. I did those things because I care about you, and I wanted you to be happy.”

“Well, you got what you wanted,” you say, arms crossed over your shoulders as you push your way out the door. “I was so happy when I was with you.”

“Wait, Y/N—”

“Bye, Jungkook.”

The door slams shut behind you. 

“How many finals do you still have left? You finished your movie, right?”

Ruby is stirring herself a cup of earl grey tea as she sits down on the couch next to you, where you’re very obviously sulking as you scroll through the Feel Good Rom-Coms category on Netflix. 

“I just have a couple essays and a presentation,” you mumble out. “You?”

“Ugh, I still have all of my final exams to take,” Ruby tells you with a thick, heavy sigh. Clearly, she doesn't feel like talking about them now. Or at all. “The life of a biology major.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wants to be a doctor, not me,” you remind her crudely. “You better know your shit, or I’m never taking my kids to your practice.”

“Rude,” Ruby says. “There goes my family and friends discount offer.”

You laugh to yourself, a small smile inching its way across your lips. Ruby’s always known how to brighten your day, even when you feel like absolute shit. 

“What are we watching, hmm? I’m cool with anything.”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, flicking through all of the rom-com options and feeling very unhappy with all of them. “I feel like you’ve seen all of these.”

“Yeah,” Ruby says. “Whenever I’m not studying, I’m watching Netflix or The Bachelor.”

You nod. Maybe you’ll just settle on some old NCIS reruns and call it a night. 

“Oh!” Ruby exclaims suddenly, a lightbulb going off above her head. “How about we watch your movie? The rom-com you did with Jungkook! I haven’t seen it yet.”

“I don’t know…” You begin, the mere thought putting a bad taste in your mouth. For obvious reasons. 

“Come on, please? I really want to see it, you were so excited about it,” Ruby begs, getting all antsy as she climbs all over you, literally pulling your arm to get you to cave in. “It’s short, too, isn’t it? Like forty-five minutes long? We can watch whatever you want afterwards. Please.”

You huff out a breath. If it were up to you, you would move that film onto a flash drive and toss it into a dumpster on fire. But it’s not just up to you. Ruby has been asking you about it since the day you told her you were filming it, and now all she wants to do is see the final result. And it’s only forty-five minutes long. What’s that when compared to the rest of your life?

“Fine,” you relent, not wanting to fight about it any longer. “Let me get my computer.”

Ruby cheers. 

You bring your laptop over to your coffee table, turning off the ceiling lights as Ruby tucks herself underneath a blanket, hands warmed by her steaming cup of tea. You pull up the movie file and, taking a deep breath, press play. 

It opens with your first interview with Taehyung, a muted, royalty-free lo-fi hip-hop song playing in the background. You had edited it so that it would jump back and forth between your answer and Jungkook’s, highlighting the contrast between the two of you. It was mostly for comedic purposes, just because seeing you deadpan about how love doesn’t exist and then quickly switching to Jungkook wax poetic about it is amusing, but watching it now just makes you want to curl into yourself. 

You should have known that this would have never worked out. Should have kept that same jaded attitude. You let your guard down for one second and look at what’s happened to you.

The next scene that Jungkook shows is, of course, the moment he spills burning hot coffee all over you in the middle of the Starbucks, comedically panning up to your positively-flabbergasted face just to add to the shock factor. Next to you, Ruby laughs at the mishap, obviously amused by the fact that the two of you are now drenched in coffee and scrambling to clean up the mess. You try to focus your energy on how peeved you were at Jungkook after he did that, but get distracted the moment he films himself wrapping his denim jacket around you, placing it over your shoulders and making sure it’s just right. 

He didn’t have to do that, and the two of you both knew it. But still, he sent you off your class all bundled up in a jacket that smelled like him, smelled of that boyish aroma that you couldn’t get rid of, even when you put it in the wash with your lavender detergent. All of Jungkook’s clothes smelt like that no matter how much cologne he put on, always smelt woody and thick. It would consume you, that scent, a cloud surrounding your figure whenever you were near him. 

The movie keeps playing, and you keep thinking about how much of a fool you must look like in it now, all giggles and smiles as Jungkook sings Frankie Valli to you while he hands you a rose, that same sly little smile dotting his features. Hearing the song again makes you feel like you’re choking, like something’s smothering you, and you’re not sure what it is until you realize that it’s the sound of Jungkook’s voice. 

You haven’t heard him sing since he serenaded you. 

Then it’s your first date, the one Ruby told you to wear the yellow dress to (“Hey, I told you you looked amazing in it! Wow!” Ruby exclaims when she sees you). You remember when you edited this, putting the clips together of you eating at the restaurant, wandering around the park, posing underneath the trees, holding hands. You were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt while you were editing, grinning from ear to ear at all of the things the two of you did together. They were so picturesque, those scenes, so perfectly shot, so romantici—t did a fine job of convincing you that it was all real. 

You even put in the little clip of you and Taehyung talking. A mistake, now that you look back on it, of course. It was so vulnerable, so real, so candid and honest like you said you would be, and now it’s all blown up in your face. You must have looked like such an idiot to Jungkook when he saw this scene for the first time in class. You remember the wide-eyed look on his face when it popped up. Like he couldn’t even believe you had done this in the first place. 

Scoffing, you shake your head. You either. 

The rest of it you can hardly bear to watch. Just a wrap-up of your relationship, a compilation of all of the small moments you shared when you didn’t realize that Jungkook was filming, when you dared whip out your camera to shoot for a second or two. Little clips that jump from scene to scene, shots of you laughing and eating and skipping along campus as you held hands. It’s hard to reconcile the fact that it’s all over. 

You don’t even listen to the final interview, not bothering to pay attention to what you or Jungkook have to say when you were there, when you can recall every word he’s ever spoken to you at the drop of a hat. 

The truth is, you were always a goner for him. 

And look how well that played out. 

By the time the kissing scene comes up once more, you’re ready to set your whole laptop alight. 

The screen turns black as it ends, fading away into nothingness, the instrumental slowly disappearing alongside the image. You shut your laptop when it’s all over, a little too angry for your own good, but you wrestle the scowl off your face as you take a drink of water from the glass sitting on the table. 

“Wow,” Ruby says, speechless. She blinks at your closed laptop. 

“Did you like it?”

“I—I don’t even know what to say,” Ruby says, which is a first. “It was amazing, Y/N. Seriously. Gorgeous. Like, cinematographically? Stunning. The shit on Netflix isn’t even as good as that.”

Even if you did have to sit through your stupid movie one more time, the compliments make you feel a bit better. “Thanks,” you murmur. 

Ruby nods enthusiastically. “It was incredible. I’m just—I’m in awe. You and Jungkook have a gift, dude. It was seriously one of the best things I’ve watched in a really long time. And, like, not even in a cheesy, yucky rom-com kind of way. It was so… so genuine. So real. Wow.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“You’ll have to tell Jungkook, too,” Ruby says. “He did really well.”

“Yeah, he’s a great actor,” you say, a little too bitterly for your own good. 

“What do you mean?” Ruby raises an eyebrow your way. “I didn’t think he was acting at all. It looked pretty real to me.”

You frown. “It did?”

“I mean, yeah,” Ruby says with an honest nod. “I mean, you did tell me it was a mockumentary and not just a run-of-the-mill rom-com. So wasn’t everything supposed to be real, anyway?”

“Yes…” you trail off, unsure of the direction of this conversation.

“Well, if you ask me,” Ruby says, all matter-of-factly, “I’d say he definitely fell in love with you.”

Something rushes through you. Something warm and bright and full of energy. 

Hope. 

Even though you have finished one of your finals early, finals week is still just as much of a slog as it always is. Three essays and two presentations deep, you aren’t finished any of them and the due dates are slowly creeping up on you, ready to pounce the moment the clock strikes twelve. 

Eh, it could be worse. You could be Ruby and have six timed, proctored final exams on biology, anatomy, and chemistry. So you suppose you can’t complain too much. 

Finals week sees you all holed up in your apartment like always, but more so this semester than any previous ones because you don’t feel like going to the library and risking seeing Jungkook there. Or anywhere, really. Since you presented on the last day of classes, you haven’t spoken since, and hopefully you can keep that streak going forever. You had made it until this semester without ever crossing paths despite being in the same major, so hopefully that luck will follow you. 

It’s almost midnight when you finally decide to call it quits for the night, having at least gotten mostly through two of your essays (just have to edit and proofread!) and worked on about half of your two presentations. Sighing, you get up from your couch and stretch, feeling your bones crack from sitting in the same place for hours on end. 

You lean over to the floor lamp by the edge of the couch, ready to flick it off and head to bed, when you hear something outside. 

“You’re just too good to be true…”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

You freeze.

The voice is soft and mellow, a little muted because it’s making its way through your wooden door before it reaches your ears, but it is unrecognizable. Even without the acoustics of the Eighth Notes, you know who’s on the other side. 

“You’d be like Heaven to touch…”

“I wanna hold you so much…”

“At long last, love has arrived…”

“And I thank God I’m alive…”

Unable to resist, you wander to your front door, basking in the sound of him, in the way the notes float through the air as if on clouds, dancing along the walls as they sink into your brain. He sounds so sweet, voice warm like tea on a cold night, just singing his song on this empty, lonely night. But it’s not just his song, is it? 

It’s yours, too.

You pull open the door. 

“You’re just too good to be true,” Jungkook sings, a honeyed melody that calms the waves of your stormy heart, “can’t take my eyes off of you…”

But just because he’s here, serenading you once more, doesn’t mean he’s going to get it any easier from you. You fight to keep the smile off your face, pressing your lips together as you narrow your eyes at him. 

“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night…”

“I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…”

He meets your eyes with his own, and they aren’t glinting in the way they normally do, the way that they do when he knows he’s doing something to grind your gears, when he’s got a trick up his sleep. They gleam like pearls as the dim glow of your apartment lights up his figure, warm yellow mixing with the caramel in his irises.

“Oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray…”

Oh, pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay…”

“And let me love you, baby…”

From behind him, Jungkook brings out a single red rose, twirling it between his fingers as he holds it out to you. 

“Let me love you…” He trails off there, voice delicate as vanishes into the chilly night air, disappearing between the two of you. 

You can’t help but take the flower from his hand. What else are you supposed to do?

“So?” Jungkook asks, hopeful. 

“Don’t think you can just show up at my apartment and woo me back by singing to me,” you chide, even though he definitely can. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says simply, because there really is nothing else to say. “I should have told you.”

“I watched our rom-com again,” you tell him. “I should have believed you when you said you cared about me.”

“I always did,” Jungkook says. “I just wanted you to know that love was real, and that it was there for you.”

“I should have known,” you agree. You look up at Jungkook through lidded eyes, musing to yourself. “You know what I learned?”

Jungkook tilts his head in curiosity. “What?”

“That love isn’t a feeling. It’s a person,” you explain, sighing pleasantly. “Love comes to us through the things we share with other people. That’s what it is.” Your thumbs twiddle in front of you, the pads of your fingers rubbing at the stem of the rose.

He takes a single step forward, reaching out to take your hand in his own. “And are you pleased with who you’ve found?”

You roll your eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me already, you idiot.”

Jungkook obliges without a second thought. 

There is no one to film you this time, no project to work on. There is only you, and there is only him. And there is only a lifetime that the two of you share, a story that you have told together, piece by piece, frame by frame. Your movie didn’t end once you finished editing. Nor did it end the moment the screen went black in Pollack’s class. It wasn’t even over when you watched it a second time with Ruby. 

No, it continues on. Forever and ever, so long as you are with him. There will always be something new to capture, to burn into a disk so you’ll have it for eternity.

He pulls you in for a kiss and it’s not the end of the film. It’s the beginning of a brand new part, a new installment in the series that is your life with him. That is the relationship you have created together. His lips aren’t the fireworks as the credits roll. They are the scene where the two characters meet for the very first time and know that they were meant to be. The scene that sets all of the other ones in motion. That is who Jungkook is. That is what you are sharing, right now. 

A brand new frame. 

When you part, you press your forehead against his, soft blonde locks framing his face as they tickle your face, dancing along the skin of your cheeks.

“You called it a rom-com,” Jungkook points out randomly, just remembering now. 

“Well, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know…” Jungkook says, pretending to think about it as he rocks on the back of his feet. “Did it have a happy ending?”

You bring your lips to his once more, arms wrapped around his neck as you clasp the rose between your fingers. You make a mental note to press it later. Something else to remember him by. Something other than your movie. 

Jungkook pulls you into him once more, hands resting firmly on your waist, letting his body press against yours as you stand there in the muted light of your apartment’s living room, letting the cool spring breeze wash over you. You smile against his lips, feeling your heart race when he grins back. 

“Yes,” you declare proudly. 

And so, they lived happily ever after. 

↳ thanks for reading! don’t forget to let me know if you enjoyed it!

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook college au #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #w: the art of the rom com #dudes this fic is so long my keyboard is lagging HAHAHA

[theonceandfutureking6481]

BBC's Merlin Season 1 Episode 4: The Poisoned Chalice Analysis

This is one of my favourite episodes, in this season, mainly for Merlin and Arthur. They are wonderful in this episode, and this is the first episode where you really see them starting to truly care about each other. This is a show fundamentally about love and the relationships between every character, and Merlin and Arthur are at the core of the show. Everyone in this episode though is so brave, and I admire them all so much. I talk a lot about a lot of different elements of Merlin on here but what I really love about this show is how much the characters inspire me, how much I admire them because I'm not sure I could ever be as brave as these characters, but I'd like to be.

Merlin's courage

There's not much in detail I can say about this but Merlin is so brave at the start of this episode. To burst into the king's hall and publicly accuse another king of attempting to poison Arthur. It's funny but one of the parts of Merlin's courage I most admire isn't his bravery to die for Arthur, it's his willingness to speak out when somethings wrong, his willingness to publicly embarrass himself, his willingness to be brave even when he could be wrong. It's a reachable form of courage, I don't think any of us frequently (or ever) have the opportunity to die for others, but in many ways the fact that we could all be as brave as Merlin in this way, that's what makes it feel so much more unattainable and thus more admirable.

The bigger courage though really is when Merlin drinks from the goblet, honestly even though Uther made him, Arthur probably would have drunk it but Merlin didn't let him. Merlin knew he would die if he drunk from that goblet, because he believed Nimueh to be telling the truth (which she was), but (as Arthur says) "he did it anyway." To meet death so willingly, it's not like jumping in front of someone in the moment in a battle, he had to make the choice to drink that poison because he is willing to sacrifice his life for Arthur's. And it hasn't got anything to do with destiny yet, he cares about Arthur, Arthur's his friend and Merlin's a good person. It's just a very noble moment for Merlin, Uther was making him but at the same time you could see Merlin choosing to drink from it, that's a choice and that was incredibly noble.

Arthur and Uther

There is tension between Arthur and Uther in this episode, between their views on the world and honour. It is, I think essentially summed up in.

Arthur: Because his life's worthless?

Uther: No, because its worth less than yours.

It's funny, you can see Uther's perspective here. He is right about one thing, Arthur is the future king, even if he's not inherently worth more than Merlin the stability of the kingdom rests on a secure succession and Arthur is Uther's only heir, there is more at stake here.

But Arthur's also right, a world in which any single person's life is protected more than others because of their social position is not a good place. It is not something Arthur believes in, but in Uther's world its just a given, it's not even a question that people ask.

Uther: This boy wont be the last to die on your behalf

Arthur: I can't accept that

Arthur never accepts this inevitability, he always seeks to risk his life first before any one else's and people follow him because of that, people (even his enemies) see the nobility in him because of that. His refusal to accept what to Uther appears to be an inevitability of kingship (Not a welcome one granted but one nonetheless) is what's going to make him a better king than Uther. As Morgana emphasises when she's persuading Arthur to go.

Morgana: And what sort of king would Camelot want? One that would risk his life to save that of a lowly servant, or one that does what his father tells him to?

Isn't this really just the point, Arthur will be a better king than his father because for him his right to rule is in some way always premised on his fulfilment of what he sees as right. Arthur is always trying to prove himself, especially in the early seasons. In Season 2 Episode 2: The Once and Future Queen when Arthur is fighting in a tournament under an alias so people don't know its him (and they will hopefully not let him win), you really see this.

Gwen: You have nothing to prove, least of all to me.

Arthur: I have everything to prove, to myself.

This is the fundamental point, Arthur is always trying to prove himself often to his father or others but always primarily to himself. Because he needs to prove to himself that he can rule Camelot, that he is deserving of it, so for the fact that he's going to be king to hold any weight he needs to do what he thinks is right, because if he doesn't then what sort of king would he be anyway?

This ties I think into what I mentioned in the last episode about Merlin and the greater good. The idea that Merlin never really makes the choice to kill Morgana or Mordred, except for in a moment where it was Morgana or Arthur, where it was a certain in the moment choice. Yes, he reaches a point where he tries to let them die but this is different to outright murder, and I think perhaps a Merlin who would have killed them is not a the Merlin we know, it is not a Merlin that could have formed Camelot. Arthur and Merlin's goodness comes from always trying to do the right thing, whatever the sacrifice to themselves, and if they hadn't been those sort of people then there is no way they could have been people who made a better kingdom.

Gaius: Arthur may give you a hard time, but at heart he's a man of honour. Not many people would have risked what he did for a servant

Uther

Uther's interesting in this episode, he has one of his worst moments in the show, not the worst thing he's ever done but certainly one of the worst things we witness. He purposefully lets Merlin die, we could understand it when he wasn't letting Arthur go after him, but to try to destroy Merlin's only hope for a cure to teach his son a lesson, that is cruel and so wrong. This takes valuing Arthur's life more than Merlin's to a whole other level, he values Arthur's obeying of him more than he values Merlin's life.

This goes to another feature of Uther's character I was just thinking about. He constantly mistakes control for love. He seeks to control both his children, he wants them to obey him, and if they openly defy him or disagree with him he punishes them. But he does love them, probably more than he loves anything else. When Morgana stages a coup against him and tells him how much she hates him he is broken, and he literally never recovers he does love them that cannot be denied but he spends so much of his life mistaking his controlling them for an expression of his love. It is an expression of his fear, he is scared of being out of control as he was when his wife died. Magic can be dangerous but mostly it caused him great suffering (although really it was him), so he seeks to control it absolutely, there is no nuance there and this is how he behaves towards his children. Hate and fear are terrible things to be motivated by, and Uther shows that. His hate comes from his fear, and his cruelty comes from there as well.

One thing, Uther does accept his fault at the end of this episode. It's not really adequate but its better than nothing and in its own way shows that Uther is capable of character development, and the fact that he will fail to do it in the most important ways is sad. His moment when he says to Arthur that Nimueh "is evil", it is so clear he is talking more to himself than anyone else. Isn't that a sign of trying to persuade yourself, he has to tell himself that Nimueh's evil cause ultimately she was just doing what he asked, and if he doesn't villainise her absolutely than its his fault too.

The one moment that really does redeem Uther a little in this episode is when he tells Arthur that "You did the right thing... I'm proud of you Arthur, never forget that." The last comment is telling, Uther knows he's not the best father, he knows that Arthur probably doesn't realise that Uther is proud of him. So the 'never forget that' is a reminder, I think, for when Uther inevitably forgets that himself. It is a reminder, for us, in its own way that Uther is trying to be a good father, and at least in this realm Uther realises that he very often fails.

Morgana

One interesting thing I noticed in this episode was how frustrated Morgana is with her life. I've never really noticed it before, but its in everything she says and does, even in the episodes before this. Even before she turns against Arthur and Uther and Camelot she is angry, not just at them, she's angry at her life. You can tell she feels like she doesn't have the power to do anything, like she's being controlled and perhaps like she isn't able to anything good or right because of Uther and her position, she feels pity for all the magic users but she is a part of the body that persecutes them. How do you reconcile that?

Morgana: Sometimes you have to do what you think is right and damn the consequences

There is so much frustration in that, and everything she says in this scene. I don't know exactly what this says about Morgana's character or her eventual place in the story but its interesting to note. Perhaps its to say her hatred of Uther and eventually Arthur isn't only because of her sympathy for magic users and eventually her own fear and feelings of being unloved but perhaps has its roots in her anger at this time, in Uther's control and her own powerlessness.

Merlin and Arthur

This is Merlin and Arthur's episode, so its kind of funny it took me so long to get to them, but there's really not that much to analyse in the wider scheme regarding them. They just are, and they are wonderful.

This is the episode where you see they do truly care about each other and they are truly good friends They risk their lives for each other with barely a second thought, and yes that is partially their own honour and decency but it is also fundamentally their care for each other that motivates them. You can tell when Merlin's thinking about destiny when he saves Arthur, it becomes such a huge part of his characterisation later on even though he loves Arthur more by that point he also admires him more so Arthur's destiny seems more important. Merlin doesn't really admire Arthur that much yet, he respects him and cares about him but the sheer admiration he will have for him comes later, and it is that admiration that makes him care even more about Arthur's destiny, because he believes in it far more. Right now though it is just their goodness and their friendship that motivates them.

The final moment between them though is beautiful. The moment when Arthur goes to Gaius' chambers just to check that Merlin's all right, even though he's obviously been told he is. He brushes it aside as usual, brushes how much he does actually care about what happens to Merlin (I mean Arthur did just go on a perilous quest that could have led to his death for him so I think Merlin gets it). But the moment at the end of that scene is lovely. There is just such mutual respect and recognition of each other and what they've done for each other, and the way they look at each other is just so wonderful.

Merlin: Thank you

Arthur: You too

Nimueh

One quick note about her. We will find out eventually what her motivations really are, that she's obviously not just evil. That she is angry at Uther and understandably so. And I wonder if in her there is a parallel for Uther I hadn't considered before. Both of them were involved in Igraine's death and Arthur's birth. And it was as a result of this action that Uther outlawed sorcery and began the great purge. She out of everyone knows best how hypocritical Uther really is. And in her own way, though it is obviously not her fault, it is her actions that set off the great purge. Uther made the choice to blame her and all magic but nonetheless it was a spell she cast that was the trigger, and I wonder if in her own way she feels guilty (just as Uther feels guilty about his wife's death) but like Uther she takes it out in anger rather than guilt. I'm not saying she should feel guilty, perhaps over Igraine's death but certainly not the great purge. However, she most probably does, and like Uther I think she's refusing to feel that guilt, and to avoid that guilt she chooses hatred and anger instead.

Bravery

Everyone in this episode though, is so brave. Gwen, Merlin, Arthur and Gaius all do risky, brave things that could get them killed, though maybe not killed in Gwen's case but certainly in huge trouble. Gwen sneaks into the dungeons and Gaius does magic. We will learn more about Gaius' character later but he is in many ways not a brave person, he is the sort who witnesses injustice and stays quiet, he's not brave. But he's brave here, he does magic, for Merlin, because he loves Merlin like a son. All the courage and bravery in this show comes from the love people have for others, and that's an important message, that the people we love and our own ability to love others can inspire us to be better people and to be brave.

Their immediate response to Merlin's apparent death moreover is guilty, they have nothing to feel guilty about, it's Uther's fault, but they blame themselves anyway. There is in that a contrast to Uther, who refuses to blame himself. They don't take their pain out in anger, they accept it and even though they have nothing to be guilty for the fact that their immediate response is guilt does say they are better people, braver people than Uther.

Other things

Morgana holding that butter knife ready to fight Bayard's men is the funniest thing ever. Like its an impressive butter knife, but it is still so clearly a butter knife.

Also so many bad guys plans in this show rely on Arthur or Merlin being fundamentally good people, like when your plan involves using people's goodness against them you need to re-evaluate your choices in life. I suppose its part of the point though- that they are willing to harm the innocent or take advantage of goodness in their anger. Uther punishes goodness in this episode.

My new motivational quote—> Gaius: "As the Old proverb says: Hard work breeds..........a harder soul." Merlin: "There is no way that's a proverb. You just made that up."

#merlin analysis #the adventures of merlin #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin bbc #arthurian retelling #arthur pendragon #arthur's character #merthur #morgana pendragon #gwen pendragon #bbc gwen #guinevere pendragon #bbc gaius #uther pendragon #analysis #character study #courage #nimueh #love and hate #friendship

[mallowstep]

Mistyfoot has long since been my favorite character in Warriors, (originally I liked her as a child bc she reminded me of my aunt who is named Misty but besides the point) and I love her characterization in your fics. How does Mothwing's atheism and Mistystar's reaction to it play out in your fic, if it plays out at all?

it's...complicated.

i'm always tweaking my own understanding of mothwing's atheism, because like. i don't know i was talking with a friend about her as well as atheism and the nature of religion and.

okay on topic: atheism is not like. at least in the us, we tend to think of atheism as like...a monolith? there is a way to be atheist. it means one thing. but that's not true? heck, i'm an atheist and i'm also like. have a religion. life and people are complicated.

so. you know like. what does it mean for mothwing to be atheist? that's not really relevant to this conversation, i just like to bring it up.

what is relevant is: the whole mistystar's omen thing just Doesn't happen. like. yeah Mistystar Would Definitely Forcibly Retire Mothwing /s

mothwing doesn't have the same relationship to religion as she does in canon. i have a pretty good sense of what she believes in (my) canon atm, but that's what she learns from sasha. it's not applicable here. the only religion she'd be exposed to is the clans' religion.

which. is so much more than just starclan. the clans are...similar to medieval england in how much religion is a part of their life. i actually think that's a good comparison. like, religion is the framework of their everything. the king/leader gets their authority from god/starclan, and even if they're Kind of above the church/medicine cats, they're also not in a lot of ways.

but at the same time, your average peasant/warrior isn't thinking of religion the way we do now in the us. i'm not going to do a great job of explaining this, because i've tried and i don't, but you know. if you're a peasant, you go to church because it's what you do. the service is in latin, you don't understand it. there is a holy day. you might sleep in the church if you lose your home/are travelling, or go there for medical care.

it's a very good analogy for the clans tbh. (i think honestly, the clans are deeply reminiscent of feudal england. for good and bad. that's a different subject tho.)

so with that in mind, mothwing is a religious leader and authority, regardless of what she believes. like her role in her community is far beyond "i get omens and prophecies," it's also her job to perform various ceremonies and rain stuff and announce the changing of the seasons and all sorts of things.

(to be clear for anyone who's new here, this is my own worldbuilding bc otherwise the role of medicine cat doesn't make sense, but again, that's a different topic.)

so. i don't actually generally disagree with mistystar's omen in Theory. i didn't enjoy it, but i think the concept of it would have been fine, the erins just don't seem to have a very good understanding of how atheism works in a society without science and with a religion that's deeply tied to every aspect of culture.

which is. bad. it's Understandable but like. god. i was raised in...i don't know what the best words to describe it are? but i was raised in a church that's very different to american evangelicalism, and at one point i was having a conversation with someone about how i went to a meeting of the church elders with a few other kids my age to discuss a pride banner

and he just. couldn't comprehend that. because i was like 12 at the time. and i don't think he had a confirmation? i don't think he had the concept of like. writing an essay about your faith to read in front of the deacons. i don't know. anyway i'm getting off-topic but i swear this is relevant.

so okay but. the thing is. when i understood that fundamental difference, his reaction to MY behaviours started to make a lot more sense. like, he didn't understand my relationship to authority, because we had a very different upbringing in that sense.

and most people i went to high school with were with him. like, the concept of. i don't know. it's not that i have a disrespect for authority, it's that every way i was raised says that authority isn't innately respectful. like, i was Encouraged to challenge my parents if i thought they were wrong.

there was a time when i got really angry with a teacher because of a reason that's a whole different story, but everyone was like, "well, matthew, he's the teacher so..." but the thing is that was just not how i was raised. i was raised in, we are all on the same footing. and yes, this is deeply tied to religion,

because these values come from religion.

so the point of this is even after i...became? idk? even after i started calling myself an atheist, that value and background didn't disappear. and a lot of it is deeply religious.

so: you know, mothwing meets with her father in the dark forest. it's not like she doesn't believe that she's meeting with him. it's just that she doesn't ascribe it to the clan's belief system.

and in that way, you know, as a medicine cat, she's still going to. do the religious tasks associated with her. (the concept of religion as a tool to explain things that are good for survival is yet another topic.)

ANYWAY TO THE ACTUAL POINT: how does mistystar tie into all of this?

well, pretty well, actually. mistyfoot struggles a lot with her relationship to starclan. she feels like starclan has failed her. and when feathertail goes on the prophecy quest, and mistyfoot realizes that like, feathertail was chosen because the tribe had a prophecy that feathertail was supposed to fulfill, that knowing that feathertail was going to die, starclan still chose her

mistyfoot is Quite Reasonably Pissed

but you know. it's not like the cats understand evolution. so rejecting starclan ("atheism") is not the same thing as rejecting all of the clans' religious beliefs.

mistystar and mothwing have very similar relationships to religion. they both struggle with starclan's failure to protect cats, as well as feeling rejected by starclan for various reasons.

so.

uh.

hope that answers your question? sorry i rambled so long and barely talked about mistyfoot?

here's an excerpt from pre-po3 times as an apology:

“Running won’t help, Mothwing.”

“I’m not running.” But Mothwing looks at her feet, and Mistyfoot thinks, You can’t hide this one from me.

“You’re thinking about it, at least. It won’t help.”

“I don’t have options.”

“Feathertail’s mother ran,” Mistyfoot says. “And died.” It has been a long time since Mistyfoot has thought of Silverstream. Their fathers were brothers, they were sisters, and now Silverstream’s daughter is hers.

“It’s not like that runs in me,” Mothwing says, with a sharp, biting laugh that’s all Feathertail.

“Go back to sleep,” Mistyfoot says. “Things will seem better in the morning.”

#misty au #mothwing #mistystar #ask #anon #mine #long #essay #talk #mothwing's atheism is a very interesting topic #i don't want to #call out friend here #because i'm not sure they would want me to #but hopefully u know who u are #and our discussions on this are #fantastic #so thank you #and anon #thank u for this question #it was very fun to answer #<3

[oradevilredeemed]

Gossip Girl Rewatch

I decided to rewatch GG for the first time in 8(?) years. I haven’t touched the show since it ended and it’s interesting the views that have and haven’t changed. For my own amusement, the big things I liked/hated I will discuss as well as any other significant changes.

Chuck and Blair

You know what, yeah they were toxic but honestly I still ship them as much as I did before. Not only that but from season 1 to 4 we saw how they could be good and right for each other but also how they could be so wrong and destructive. From the end of season 2 we knew clearly they loved each other in an all consuming way but they were both broken and Chuck so much more so (honestly talk about the worst family and childhood ever) that they didn’t know how to handle or put limits on that amount of love. By having both let go at the end of season 4 we had season 5 to see Chuck become a man worthy of love through his relationships to others (Monkey is cute as) and through therapy which I wish we had seen and heard more of - he never went to Blair with a hidden agenda to bring her into his orbit for romance, he only did that once when Dan set it up because it was clear that in that moment Blair’s happiness included Chuck and then the next episode to try and understand what had changed and then because her own mother asked him. During that season we even got the clear juxtaposition of his former self by having Bart there to see just how much better he was at handling emotions and life changes.

While Blair got to explore the other types of love to determine which she wanted for herself in season 5, as Blair said herself it was her season to “run away and try to kill” that intense love that had her losing her way. She had always had a fairytale in mind and she got it and it nearly destroyed her and everything that made Blair herself. She then got her simple love, that was easy and she was content but ultimately that wasn’t for Blair who has always been passionate about something. The difference was this time she wanted the passionate but knew who she was as a sole person, she finally saw herself and had validation from the one person more influential then Chuck - her mother. In season 6 I appreciated the second time around how they had this understanding and communication over them wanting to set up a future for themselves separate from their relationship before fully committing and building their lives together. This help Blair complete her powerful women arc and also helped end Chuck’s history of unhealthiness in dealing with business and Blair - he kept her separate until he needed to scheme and them scheming together, using powers for good was never framed as a bad thing but as part of there skill as a lower couple. I also loved how naturally they both could fit in and help the other achieve what they wanted in a true partnership, demonstrating the way they knew each other, could bring out the best in each other and work as a team. Funnily enough watching it again I have a new head canon of Chuck and Blair in the 5 year time jump and beyond with them actually having one of the most settled and “normal” relationships and lives because they got their not boring out during the show and the circumstances of their wedding - normal would probably be a relief lol.

Season 5

I didn’t actually watch a lot of season 5 when it aired because I couldn’t but I read reviews and such and I hated majority of what I read. But forcing myself to watch it I...still hated it. Louis stayed way to long and Blair was just a bad character. I appreciated her friendship with Dan, but the relationship just wasn’t one I could get onboard with; something always felt off. I also loved Chuck working on himself, his friendship with Dan, and Monkey was pointless but cute so I enjoyed that and Chuck just really given things and his happiness up for Blair’s until it became obvious that Blair’s happiness lead back to him. I liked seeing the darker side of Serena but wish she had joined forces with Nate and Chuck more. The 100th episode was not “a love letter” and I stick by that. I used to hate but now love that Bart came back and was everything Chuck had imagined him to be. The first half of season 5 tonally felt like a completely different show so even though I didn’t like the Dair relationship it was easier and more enjoyable to watch than Louis.

Dan and Blair

I used to hate everything about them together, but now I enjoy their friendship and wish they had kept that between them. I didn’t like how Blair went back to judging his status in season 6. That brings me to the one thing I really dislike and that is how they ended. It was obviously done to cause some drama in season 6 but I feel there could have been a great moment of conversation between the two where they talked out her choosing Chuck and they could have maintained a friendship. Romantically I didn’t buy it, to me I found it one sided or just off somehow but I understand why others could ship them but it’s not for me and I was happy for it to be a relationship that led them (more so Blair) to an understanding of what they want. For Blair it was that while she could have safe and easy love and be content she would rather the passionate love that could bring her to the happiest she has ever been. For Dan I would say he wanted that role of ultimate insider.

Dan and Serena

I always liked season one and to a lesser extent season 2 versions of them. But afterwards initially no, I hated that they ended the show together and thought both (Serena) could do better. However, rewatching knowing what I know now (Dan is GG) is slightly different. I still love season 1 and to a lesser extent season 2 them but I found myself actually rooting for season 6 them, I felt the shock again when it was revealed that Dan had set things up but I also understood him a lot more that the feelings were genuine. I also could see why Serena could be so forgiving especially after her GG stint in season 5. The one thing I still disagree with though is the line that Dan being GG was him writing a love letter to them all, just no girl. I will say though that may head canon for them is that in between that 5 year time jump their relationship was still a little back and forth and not as settled as Chuck and Blair which I use Lily’s line of “I never thought we would get here” as my proof.

Bart’s Return

Oh I did not like that when it aired. I found it so soapy but on rewatch yes it was soapy but I also loved to see not only that Bart was exactly as Chuck imagined (and that we had actually seen - remember he was the one who swayed Chuck as the end of season one) but we also saw how Chuck was different to him and how he had grown. Chuck was fairly open about his feelings to Bart, even initially instigating a hug until it was clear that Bart and his feelings equal weakness self was there. In season 6 I found the decision to take down Bart extreme and a soapy device but they had set Bart up as this ultimate powerful bad guy that would have destroyed everyone’s lives so the only way for it to end was by him dying again.

Vanessa

I hated her on the first watch but on the second one I didn’t but I also can almost pin point the second that they had no clue what to do with her. On rewatch I actually liked her character but also feel like she was treated badly by other characters and ultimately the writers. I wish we had gotten a small glimpse of what she was up to after the time jump (she was the only character we didn’t see then) but I will stick with my initial thought that her season 3 faux dreadlock look was not it.

Rufus and Lily

On initial viewing I was really disappointed that they didn’t end up together and that she ended up with William but on rewatch. I think it made an odd amount of sense. Lily and Rufus had a lot of love but ultimately were different in fundamental ways that just couldn’t transpire to long term happiness. William blackmailing his way into her life was (funny I laughed when Ivy was going off) not great but out of everything in Lily’s life that was the least of issues. I do still love the call back to the end of season 1 though by having Lisa Loeb end up with Rufus.

Blair and Serena

Not much changed with my opinions but I will say I could see the systematic way they slowly broke Blair and Serena’s bond in season 5. Every time they called each other their best friend it started to feel insincere to the point where Blair even dating Dan a guy Serena had been and was so clearly I n love with didn’t even feel like something she should consider as wrong because that was something a best friend did. I don’t know if I feel they built them up enough after the events of season 5 but I also believe they wanted there friendship instead of being “stuck with each other” as Blair so elegant put in the season 6 premiere.

I’m sure there are a lot of other thoughts I have forgotten and some I have communicated terribly but ultimately I was surprised to find myself actually enjoying the rewatch. Watching in binge form was definitely an appeal but it also gave me some understanding and enjoyment to storylines I had previously disliked.

#gossip girl #chuck and blair #chair #blair and serena #opinions #rewatch #binge

[monkey-network]

Eizouken v. Ratatouille: Dawn of the Creative Drive

WARNING: This critique will contain spoilers for Eizouken episodes 1-4 and the film Ratatouille. Also this is long. And yes, I had to make this or else I would’ve exploded. Enjoy.

Youtube’s TheRealJims made a video review of pixar’s Ratatouille not long ago, check it out by the way, and one thing about it caught me deep. He described Ratatouille as “a progressive kind of film, not in the political sense, but a very forward looking movie.” This line stuck with me as I begun to watch Keep Your Hands Off the Eizouken, an anime about a high schooler, inspired as a child, working her way to create anime with her friends. It wasn’t until episode 4 where mind threads started to knot, where that line about the pixar flic started to click with this anime in a way I’ve never thought of before. As such, I found that these two have a great thematic link, a connected warp between the creative minds of adults and children. Eizouken and Ratatouille do the remarkable in giving us the bouts and beauties to having a creative, “progressive” drive, and I wanted to explore how they stack up differently and similarly. And with that,,,,

The Ignition

The beginning scene of Eizouken where Midori see her inspiring anime for the first time is personally my favorite moment of the anime so far, borderline perfect. Like Remy, we already see her have this extrinsic passion for drawing once she arrives at her jungle gym of a newfound home; crude as they look, we see her seedling talent in jotting the details of her world onto paper. It’s then when she watches Future Boy Conan where her passion becomes etched in stone intrinsically. Miyazaki was her Gusteau, the bonafide inspiration that, taking it all in, made a simple hobby into a driven pursuit. Ratatouille more or less streamlines this whole moment with narration (makes sense cuz it’s a film) but they nonetheless bring home how a talent can be solidified if given the right push. Even if you didn’t have a desire to have a fulfilling career from it, you can’t deny that there was a moment in your life where something (be it a show, game, book, etc.) was the foundation to your biggest hobby, which then allowed you to explore it more as you grew up.

One thing to note is how Ratatouille handles Remy’s character with his interest. In spite of his palette gift, he doesn’t become a snob or too good towards his rat family; there’s not a moment where he claims he knows better than his skeptic father, they just idealistically disagree and their connection remains intact throughout the film. He has taste and knowledge, but isn’t smug about it. Midori is rounded the same way, she doesn’t push Kanamori or anyone to accept that anime is the best thing ever, and there’s that layer of anxiety to her love of anime that humanizes her aspirations a little more than Remy. It was a lot easier for Remy to be a cook than it was for Midori to make anything beyond concept art, or be sociable about it for that matter. At the same time, both remain humble in their ignited desires and understandably had to deal with an initial drawback to pursuing their dreams which is where...

The Helping Hands

Now, I’m not saying Midori is puppeting Tsubame or that Tsubame is a subversion of the whole rags to riches trope. I say like Linguini, Tsubame is one of the bridges for Midori to live out her desire, with the added bonus of being just as on board in scaffolding Asakusa’s passion to its most palpable form with her own dream of being an animator. Midori and Remy, be it their figurative or literal limitations, needed the likes of Linguini and Mizusaki to make things come to fruition. Even when Linguini doesn’t desirably wanna be a top chef himself, he witnesses Remy’s skill and is willing to put himself out there to work together and make the best cooking at the restaurant. Likewise, Tsubame is more than willing to work with Midori if it means not being forced into doing what her parents want and sharing that pathos of anime with a similar mind. And unlike Ratatouille, it helps that Tsubame is already adept in animating; I’ll talk to more on this later, but I’m glad Ōwara didn’t force us a character that wants to be somebody but has done nothing for herself. That’s what I noticed with both of these features, there’s a great semblance of support when passion is there but can’t progress singularly. There can/will be people out here to help you and they will come when you least expect it. Linguini and Tsubame both work well as the muscle of the cast, the character that does the heavy lifting in bringing the meal or anime to life. As such, we essentially have our director and the more hands on conductor of the project, but this all can’t be done without the producer.

Colette and Kanamori serve well as the anchor for our respective characters; we can’t just have the four characters go nuts with whatever, there needs to be some stability, a reality to the ambitious madness that can come with creating. Kanamori isn’t teaching the two any ground rules of anime, but she understands the analytics and guidelines to keeping things on track. Colette helps Linguini, by extension Remy, on the known etiquette to being productive in the kitchen, the same can be said for Kanamori in helping Tsubame and Midori in getting the film done clean and timely. While making a meal isn’t the same as making a whole cartoon, the ins and outs of getting things done have a parallel organized track. There’s especially more to making animation, especially on a deadline, and I’m glad Eizouken doesn’t shy away from giving you the thought process in what might go on behind the scenes; it practically gives you the ropes on what could happen if you were in each of the trio’s shoes. 

Additionally, these two are the most resolute of the three characters; they stick to the mission understanding where Remy and Midori are philosophically, and Tsubame and Linguini are fundamentally, coming from. She and Kanamori exhibit the practical outsider, the one to truly stick their neck out, don’t put up with bullshitting, to push the creative drive further. Both see the weight that comes to production and while Colette has her fallback in the 3rd act, they make sure everything goes as planned. They truly practice what they preach and are the glue that holds things together. The only disadvantage Colette has is that she lacks a relationship with Remy, it’s mostly indirect at the end while Asakusa and Kanamori are initially on better terms since they were already close friends. But with our characters on the move, there’s hardly such thing as a perfect run,,,,

The Fallback

This part is where Eizouken and Ratatouille truly divide because the problems that arises for our characters come in differently. Ratatouille has more outside factors coming in with the fact that Remy is a rat and is pulled between his connection with humans vs his own kind. Eizouken is more in-fighting between the three where Tsubame and Midori’s ambitions have to face off against Kanamori’s more realistic shut downs and options. Eizouken also presents the compromises that can come with being a creator where Ratatouille reasonably montages through the hardships that can come with human puppetry and becoming an instant hit in the kitchen. Success is portrayed more consistently in Ratatouille than in Eizouken, which focuses more on the progress. It’s obvious given that, again, making food is not as time and energy consuming as making a feature; we see that animation is a lot more than just drawing all your ideas onto the equivalent to a flip book.

To sidetrack a bit, I came to agree with Jim that Monsters University is the antithesis to Ratatouille where the hard work that one puts into their dreams doesn’t mean imminent or easily delivered success. It’s a bizarro film in that, while not breaking new ground plotwise, MU is grimly realistic in that your passionate drive won’t always lead to getting the spoils you exactly want. Eizouken cleverly sits the middle of the two, where success is achievable if you put the effort in, but that effort realistically won’t go exactly how you want. Mizusaki wants everything hand-drawn and Asakusa wants a story, but come to understand that shortcuts need to happen if they want to get it done by the  council meet. Kanamori isn’t crushing their aspirations for the hell of it, she makes it clear that time and the student body are not on their side. As opposed to Ratatouille, the final boss that are the critic(s) are notably secondary to getting the project done somehow. As mentioned before, I’m glad Ōwara made Tsubame already apt in animating because we can focus less on her being able to do it, more on the limitations that come with doing it. She has the skill, but has to bargain on her capabilities with what’s necessary as we see the tolls that come with the job.

Where I say these two collide somehow is the facet of the outsider putting the effort in for their goals. Remy and Midori are gifted and near encyclopedic in their trades, but are reasonably setback by both internal conflicting question of how far are they willing to go in exercising their drives. Remy more external than Midori since he could literally be killed if the truth was out too soon, but there is that self doubt in both of them where it can be hard to imagine that anyone can cook or that creating the great world is possible. It’s near the end of the arcs where they truly stand up for their beliefs and I appreciate that both handle the determined directing of our MCs in a respectable, pretty relatable way. They finally get to call the shots. They never sacrifice what could’ve been for what could be dauntingly realistic either; both offer an organic sense of optimism. But, with this optimism, comes the endgame that truly puts it all to the test in...

The Moment of Truth

Mr. Anton Ego, Skinner, and the Student Council are undoubtedly the final piece to these puzzles. It’s smart that they’re only present by the end of the arcs, only mentioned initially as the antagonistic force Remy and the Eizouken need to convince; they didn’t need to shoehorn their looming gavels any further. Naturally Skinner parallels the council president, a disingenuous hothead that antagonizes our MCs in a more unfair light while secretary Sakaki represents Ego, an intellectually honest person with actual standards and can see the forest for the trees. Eizouken’s episode 4 perfectly conceives why Kanamori is the boss, as she effortlessly confronts the allegations against them; not so much bluffing as she is spotlighting the council’s rash judgement. Unfortunately Kanamori can only debunk them so far, which leads to Midori overcoming her anxiety to demand that they’re given a chance. It’s great that Asakusa can suffer in silence for only so long before pushing herself to say something. This falls in line with Remy’s dad showing his son the grim realistic front of humans and rats before coming back to help him when he realizes Remy’s determinism. It’s like the rat says, the only way to go, “With luck, forward.”

Like the scene where Ego eats the titular dish, the moment we finally see the anime in full is almost disgustingly perfect. It’s fitting that a riot was going on before the presentation only for the action packed film to essentially come to life and throw chaos right back at everybody with powerful air waves, tank shells, and the tank itself jumping off the screen, literally blowing the audience away. Eizouken has literally more louder of a scene than Ratatouille’s, but both offer that climatic impart equally hard in their respective moments. They don’t shy away from grasping that immersive feeling of what you loved the most about food and/or animation, those invested in the film/series are basically with Ego and the student audience as those moments happen. It kinda hurts the brain how perfect these two moments are. Eizouken and Ratatouille, in a meta sense, weren’t successful only because they poke at our nostalgia or love, but of how they go the mile to convey it significantly. Ratatouille by the end, thanks to Ego, provides the apt idea of open-mindedness; that greatness can come from anywhere. Eizouken does this but adds the step that being open-minded can come with seeing what the efforts of that determined greatness can lead to. And with this, we see how it ends, or how it begins...

The Step Forward

I mentioned this before, but I loved that immediately after their demo reel finished, they weren’t worrying about any approval from the council or audience but discussing about what to improve on next. We see the soon boundless enthusiasm of the trio when, regardless of , they want to improve and do more as a team, all while the secretary approves the club in the hopes to see the fruitful potential. Compare this to Ratatouille for while Remy succeeds in convincing his family and Ego of his talent, they don’t sacrifice realism too much. Gusteau’s is naturally shut down, rats and humans aren’t suddenly living together by the end. At the same time, the movie wasn’t really about that, but about achieving small victories, optimistically grasping that palpable progress. Like Eizouken, Ratatouille leaves us with the progressive prospect that there’s the potential for more, for better.

To quote Jim once more, I say what makes both Eizouken and Ratatouille work fundamentally is that they keep the finger on the pulse of their respective message(s) while still creating enjoyable moments; they don’t sacrifice the fun of getting things right for pushing why it matters. They don’t sellout the bonds between our characters for irreverent romps in the kitchen or studio. Both offer a meaningfulness to their respective crafts, blending its many flavors into a well made dish that explores what it means to create and the steps that come with it. What it means to have passion and utilize that to its capable extent. What it means to enjoy a meal while watching an impressively finished production. They’re also very well animated; thanks Yuasa and Bird. 

#keep your hands off eizouken! #keep your hands off the motion pictures club! #eizouken #eizouken anime #KYHOE #Ratatouille #pixar #disney #anime #animation #critique #analysis #Good Stuff #long post

[misscrawfords]

Rose! How do you feel about Emma and its various adaptations?

Sorry for the delay in answering - blame the school trip!

I love Emma. I wrote my dissertation partly on it (also on Northanger Abbey, Rob Roy and St Ronan’s Well) and while I loved it before I loved it even more after studying it. All of Austen’s novels are extremely well plotted, but Emma might just be the best. It’s like a detective novel in that respect (and has been described as such on multiple occasions) because you can pick up on clues to what’s really going on all the way through but on a first read, you don’t see them. Miss Bates unintentionally reveals details that can be explained by Frank and Jane’s secret relationship but they are hidden in her verbal overloading. Emma’s own thoughts betray her unknown interest in Mr. Knightley, and his actions point to his love for Emma. And so on. 

Jane Austen is also being radical in her use of literary conventions and genre in Emma (as she is in basically all her novels). She has the tightest mystery plot ever written at this point hidden directly inside a novel that sticks strictly to the conventions of romantic comedy. She even goes overboard with it - successfully navigating three couples to appropriate happy endings. However, within that solid structure, she plays with expectations and conventions in a subtle way and this is where I get really excited.

First we have Emma herself, a heroine “nobody but myself will like”. Austen clearly loved questioning and pushing conventions of who was allowed to be a heroine. Her previous novel, Mansfield Park, gave us Fanny who most people at the time found disappointing after Elizabeth Bennet and modern readers (unjustly IMO) hate, and she followed Emma with Anne Elliot who was far too old to be a romantic heroine according to contemporary standards. In the middle we have Emma Woodhouse, a meddling snob. She’s got a lot in common with Mr. Darcy actually and her character development in terms of recognising the bad behaviour she is guilty of and the prejudice she feels towards those of a lower social status is pretty similar. But while Darcy and his character development is held up as beautiful and heroic and romantic, Emma is frequently condemned as dislikable. I do wonder why that could be… Personally, I love Emma. She’s clever and shrewd and funny and, honestly, is there anyone who doesn’t think Miss Bates is annoying and doesn’t want to throw a tantrum at the prospect of being upstaged by Mrs. Elton? Are you, dear reader, such a paragon of rational enlightenment and charitable feeling? Would you instantly see through Frank Churchill and resist his flirtations? Would you be best friends with Jane Fairfax and not be just a little bit jealous of her and how much Mr. Knightley everyone seems to admire her? Have you never said something cutting and regretted it? Are you perfect, reader, ARE YOU? Come on. Emma is one of us. She messes up, she judges badly, she says cringeworthy stuff in inappropriate situations, she gives bad advice - she’s human. And she deals with it without losing her positive outlook and she does grow, enough to “deserve” her happy ending (though that’s a loaded concept) but not so much it’s unrealistic. And what makes her likeable through it all are that her intentions are good. Emma is not a bad person who has to become good and “be redeemed”. She is a fundamentally warm and caring person who needs to have some bad habits of thought and action corrected by guidance and experience. Emma’s intentions and understanding are good from the beginning.

Emma’s also interesting because, yes, she does change, but if you put her in the context of the genre she inhabits, she also gets to keep a lot. Basically, in another novel, Emma would have to pay significant penance for her bad behaviour before she would be allowed to marry Mr. Knightley and she would have to prove that she is a changed woman and is absolutely not going to continue meddling and will be a good and submissive wife. Usually this also involves giving up the dangerous reading of novels which have led her astray. Several points. Firstly, Emma is not a novel reader, she is a novel writer. Emma is described by various critics as “an avatar of Austen the author” and if you read the novel through the prism of Emma being an author, things become really fascinating. Beautiful, illegitimate Harriet Smith is the heroine of Emma’s novel and obviously Emma-as-author wants to discover that she is really the long lost daughter of Somebody and give her a socially advantageous marriage. Emma’s matchmaking attempts are the workings of a novelist plotting with characters. Emma is creating her own world. This is radical stuff, in a society where female novelists were looked down upon. Emma has the means and independence and cleverness to write a story of her own - and she is comically bad at it. This is one way in which Austen plays with genre. Secondly, it is not at all clear that Emma does give up her matchmaking at the end of the novel. Austen is coy when she floats this suggestion about Mrs. Weston’s daughter: “[Emma] would not acknowledge that it was with any view of making a match for her, hereafter, with either of Isabella’s sons”. Does this suggest that maybe Emma isn’t as cured as she should be? Thanks to Austen’s levels of irony it’s impossible to tell, which is the point. Thirdly, Emma is the only Austen heroine to have real financial and social clout. Emma really does rule Highbury and at the end of the novel, instead of being subsumed into her husband’s world, he in fact moves in with her (however temporarily). This is practically the Regency equivalent of her keeping her name after marriage. She and Mr. Knightley are social equals and she does not leave her home or her sphere of influence when she marries. The only other heroine this would be true of is, interestingly enough, Fanny Price. But Mansfield Park is notoriously inward looking and Fanny’s ending allows her to truly become a Bertram which is what she wanted all along for better or worse. And Fanny and Edmund’s social status and influence are much less significant that Knightley and Emma’s are.

Something else to bear in mind when thinking about Emma’s character is that, despite her social power and wealth, she also lives an extremely confined and limited life. She is essentially a carer for her stultifying and claustrophobic father. She has never left the environs of Highbury. She is surrounded by people who jump to her every command and shower her in praise, both deserved and undeserved. The only person who criticises her is also in love with her. The only eligible men in her world before the arrival of Frank Churchill are her brother-in-law who is 16 years older than her, and the obsequious vicar. Yes, she can remain a spinster but even a rich spinster cannot maintain the sort of power she currently holds when faced with a married woman like Mrs. Elton (who is a real threat to her), but her alternatives are bleak. A woman of her rank and fortune should be having a London season and meeting other young people of her rank and forming external connections. Because of her father’s passive control over her, Emma has none of these opportunities. Even Fanny Price travels more and meets more people than Emma does. Yes, Emma Woodhouse is handsome, rich and clever and has had very little to vex her, but I suspect that is probably Emma’s own view of her life and it is not necessarily accurate.

Okay, this post is already far too long so I’ll end my discussion of the novel here. There’s also a lot that could be said about Jane and Frank, Emma and Mr. Knightley’s relationship and more, but Emma is clearly the most important and, honestly, the most in need of defence!

Onto the adaptations, and I’ll try to be brief:

1. The Gwyneth Paltrow film. Jeremy Northan is divine though his hair could be better and he’s not my favourite Mr. Knightley, even if I do have a massive crush on JN. Harriet Smith is a not particularly attractive redhead which is… weird. Frank Churchill is Ewan McGregor but he has appalling hair so IDK what was going on there - such a missed opportunity. Gwyneth Paltrow as Emma is a casting disgrace and I honestly can’t bear to watch this film because every time she is on screen I cringe. The producers were more interested in the aesthetic than making a good adaptation. My grandma hated it. Enough said.

2. The Kate Beckinsale film. Honestly, I don’t dislike anything about this except that I wish it were a mini-series and the proposal scene is a bit… eh. But I think it manages to stay true to the book in a feature film and I love Kate Beckinsale’s Emma. She has the right mix of liveliness and arrogance for me. Mark Strong is a stern Mr. Knightley but he’s not too handsome. Frank Churchill is perfect in this adaptation. Controversially, this is my favourite period adaptation.

3. The Romola Garai miniseries. I love lots about this mainly because the length allows everything to be expanded suitably. Johnny Lee Miller is the best Knightley by far. The Eltons are fabulous. Frank and Jane’s relationship gets more time dedicated to it. The Westons and Bateses are great. Harriet Smith is dumbed down too much - she’s naive and not too bright but this adaptation makes her practically an idiot, almost as much a disservice as the 2005 P&P film’s character assassination of Bingley, though physically the actress is perfect and she’s very likeable. And I really do appreciate what they were trying to do with Emma. It was clearly an informed choice to make her bubbly and often silly and a chosen interpretation of the text and I respect that - better that than wilful misinterpretation which some adaptations go in for. I fundamentally disagree with it - whatever her faults, I don’t think Emma is silly and giggly and I struggle to believe this Emma is a 21 year old woman secure in her position as a social leader. Her mannerisms often come across very modern - her little waves, giggles and posture and this is very irritating because Romola Garai has done some fantastic period acting (Daniel Deronda, The Hour etc.) and these mannerisms aren’t consistent across the cast. I love Romola Garai and I think it’s an interesting choice of direction, but not one that rings true to how I see the character though.

4. Clueless. Clearly the best adaptation of Emma ever made. We all know it.

5. Emma Approved. Only seen a bit of it and didn’t warm to it. Should probably give it another go. Why did they change Knightley’s name to Alex? What the hell is wrong with George!?!?

Anyway, here are my thoughts on Emma. Hope they’re at least somewhat interesting. There is nothing I like better than rambling on about Jane Austen! :-) Thank you for giving me the opportunity!

#Emma #Jane Austen #Emma Woodhouse #literature #books

[cyanpeacock]

Realtalk(tm): Daily Life And Shit Like That

OK, another reasonably good day?

I feel okay about myself. I sorted something out with my welfare advisor and then did a bunch of my structural cell biology tutorial work. Some fun things in there, cytoskeletons are very cool. 

Went to counselling after that. I was... surprised, because I was anxious, and my brain clocked out a few times talking about difficult things, and I cried several times? 

I’m like... okay. 

This doesn’t feel as bad as it used to, but it’s obviously still, like... interfering with my living. I’m getting through my days quietly covering up tears and suchlike. I don’t react very well to physical proximity, and conversation still makes me anxious enough to lose track of things, but I can cope with it?

I did forget to eat properly. I’ve had three coffees and a banana. I have a sandwich I’m eating right now, which is like, okay? It’s food and I’m thankful to have it. Also got ready meals in the fridge, so if I get hungry later I’ll have something quick and easy to consume. 

Man, like, it’s a lot. It’s all been a heck of a lot. I’m very glad I have these two years part-time to slow down, and make some sense of things.

Uhh... coherent narrative?

Born into a nasty shitty house in a nasty shitty part of a broadly very well-off country. 

Dad yells at and hits mum. Mum yells at and hits me. Dad’s mum and mum’s mum probably did the same. 

It does not feel good, right, or normal. 

I hear a speaker give a presentation on abuse in primary school, and recognise what’s happening to me in it. 

I have trouble in school, lash out at teachers, I struggle badly emotionally with things I don’t understand.

Police and social services get involved briefly, then abandon the case. Mental health services get involved, promptly break confidentiality, and I take this badly, because I’m a vulnerable child. Mum now knows she has a crazy kid who hears voices. I tried to keep this a secret, because I knew she wouldn’t know what the fuck to do with that. 

Things get worse. School refusal, lashing out, blah blah. 

Mum tries to do better. I don’t trust her. She gets it badly wrong, often. I’m confused, I’m anxious, I’m depressed, I’m suicidal, I’m self-harming.

I go to secondary school. The school has virtually no pastoral care, a bullying culture (students and teachers alike), and cares more about its league tables than the welfare of its students. I’m a Problem Child(tm) with great grades, so they put an extra shitton of pressure on me specifically, because I’m ~gifted and talented~. 

Things get worse, I self-harm more, I get more anxious, I’m frequently suicidal. 

Mum goes through a few partners. One sticks around, they want to get married at first, they end up in a horrible fight, I get dragged into it, I feel responsible for mediating and keeping the peace, I can’t do this because of my position in life. 

The conflict gets really bad. I’m basically tearing myself apart to try and withstand the pressure. Living with my mother makes me feel like shit, because she can’t take care of me emotionally, I need professional support. Stepdad does better with it, but is still an ass, just a different kind. They’re framing all this as some kind of political conflict, I guess because those were the terms they fundamentally disagreed on. 

I fucking snap, because doing A-levels at this shitty secondary school is killing me, and living with my birth family is draining me so badly, and it all Takes the Piss(tm), so one night I find I can’t cross the threshold into my mum’s home and end up on a late train to Leicester.

I don’t make it all the way, so I “sleep” overnight in a bus station in Nottingham in the middle of winter, freezing my little tits off. 

I make it to Leicester in the morning. Hooray. Move in with stepdad, things turn much better! For a while. 

I’m still unhappy. I get prescribed cocodamol for headaches, instead of triptans for migraine, and I get addicted. I’m still self-harming. I’m in a relationship, and I’m insecure as hell, and I’m seriously harming the people I love. 

I go to college. I start A-levels again. Relationship falls apart. I’m depressed, suicidal, self-harming, anxious, etc etc etc. Overdosing a lot. My stepdad is losing patience with me. Eventually I come home late, we get into a physical altercation, I end up on the street because I’m not going back to that bastard, and I don’t feel safe or happy living with my mother. 

Cops pick me up and take me to hospital (familiar place by this point). I’m there for a while. They end up discharging me to the street. I declare myself homeless to the council, show up at college an absolute state, end up getting a call saying there’s a room for me in the YMCA.

I move into the YMCA. It... is a homeless hostel. Drugs help it feel less shit. By this point I’m like, a full-time pothead and pill popper. Benefits are fucked, I have to work alongside full-time college, I don’t get along with the other residents. I get all eating-disordered. I’m seeing a counsellor by this point, who actually helps, unlike all the mental health professionals I’ve seen before. 

I finish my A-levels. I do quite well. I get a council flat.

Move into council flat. Sad and lonely. Glad to have a place, alone as fuck in the world, furious and hurt. Still doing drugs, when I can afford them. I’m beyond pissed with the people who raised me, I’m hearing them yelling at me even though nobody is in the room, it’s ugly. Somewhere in this period I get a diagnosis of BPD. 

I start at university. I have no idea how I’m supposed to treat myself, and burn out halfway to the end of the year. Crisis team gets involved a lot. I find my counsellor privately, and start seeing him again. I take up a meditation practice. It helps, mostly.

The university let me finish year 1 the next academic year, and agree to let me study part-time for second year. I’m still very unstable, I’m kicking my codiene habit, I’m working on things like breath control and grounding techniques that just made me furious and miserable every time I’d tried them before. 

I finish first year, with flying colours. Summer holidays come. I quit smoking pot, I hate my antipsychotic (it does its job, but I feel like shit on it), my antidepressant is making me manic but I don’t know it. My antidepressant is stopped by the doctors, and I refuse to take my ugly slow zombie antipsychotic. 

I go absolutely mental.

Full psychotic mania. MHS let me down again by refusing to acknowledge my concerns when I do get to see them. I go battier and battier until I tear apart my council flat and go AWOL. I’m running all over the shop completely out of my mind. People I’d trusted would help me, don’t help me. Hospitals admit and discharge me on the same day. MHS are suddenly very concerned about me, despite the resounding lack of fucks given by the psychiatrist who saw me as my breakdown was Escalating(tm). 

So yeah, I’m wack. Trauma. Stress. Withdrawal. My ego is dead. I’m running around on trains all over the country. There are six men living in this body. Alright. Okay. This is fun, and painful, and... oh, wait, these guys really love each other? Huh.

The university steps in when I end up sneaking into a building on campus and sleeping there overnight. They put me into halls temporarily, help me out with finance and admin, and contact medical professionals to try and convene a case review. Counsellor sees me through part of my psychotic break. 

Eventually I clear up my flat. I move back in. I’m... okay?

I’m literally just like, okay, well, this might as well happen? 

I stumble with drugs a few times, I keep working on my Coping Skills(tm), I notice I’m using coping skills without consciously going “OKAY shit I need to use a Skill(tm) here”. I go to university. I cope well enough. 

I’m processing my whole psychotic experience. I take it a lot of ways. Eventually I understand the world my brain created as a reflection of the world I’ve seen right in front of me. I lived there. It wasn’t really any different to anything I’d seen before? Actually, it was kinda better, I wanted it all to stay, the six guys I was really loved each other, and it was nice to feel that. 

I clock something. Oh? Humans need... humans need other humans? Like, they don’t, but... ah, fuck, like, I require this? Like, if I’m gonna live A Full Life(tm)? They’re not all going to hurt me? There is the possibility for love without a history of serious, self-destroying hurt? 

I start believing that I really could just, like... meet people? Talk to them? Make a friend? And that it could feel good, instead of just like, a painful and exhausting chore? I start thinking about where I might go, and when, and my mind gives me less reasons not to show up. 

So... that’s where I’m at?

Uh, okay.

What... do I make of myself?

Sick man. Getting better. Coping with it?

Okay. That’s alright. I can keep working with that?

#trauma #suicide #self harm #fliptext

[itsbenedict]

No Driver’s License: Session 42 (Epilogue)

No Driver’s License was a Madoka Magica game I ran for five players, using a homebrew of Yaruki Zero’s Magical Burst system. It followed five magical girls as they dealt with an upheaval in the world’s magic system caused by some strange new three-eyed Incubators. They figured out what was going on, who they could trust, and how to put a stop to the cycle of despair.

This is the last in a series of session recaps I’ve been keeping, both as a reference for the players and for anyone who wants to follow along with the party’s misadventures.

[adventure log- read from the beginning]

[session 41]

Last time on No Driver’s License, the team got together to discuss their plans for the future. The Devil showed up to throw a wrench into the gears, though, and they found themselves reconsidering their plans and exploring other options. With their immediate foes dealt with, there were so many ways they had available to make something out of the future.

This time, we step away from Magical Burst in favor of something a little more zoomed-out: a simple homebrewed system built to resolve complicated plots.

How it works is: we start out with a description of the Darkest Timeline. If our heroes were to just give up entirely, what’s the worst that could happen? Because that’s what’s going to happen, if they do. To not give up, each player has five Hope points- plus two for each Hope Burst they banked during the campaign. To change the dark future, players can propose things that could happen, and bid Hope points to make them so (point costs set by the GM). 

On my end, apart from setting the costs of interventions, I had 13 Chaos points. Whenever anyone made a bid of Hope to change the future, I could spend equivalent Chaos to twist the outcome- add some complication that messes up the tidy little bow they’ve tied on their problems. My objective with Chaos is to keep the setting interesting, ensuring that the players don’t just create a boring utopia.

Each player also has 3 Chaos points, which they can either use the same way as me- or spend, handing me Chaos in exchange for extra Hope, one to one. A little insurance for if someone feels like the GM’s point prices are unfair- the players can put their money where their mouth is.

So! What did our players do to the world? Let’s find out.

First off: the dark future they hope to avert.

Sakura: Your mundane life becomes yet more intolerable. Your classmates reject you, your aunt is unable to meet your emotional needs, your team dismisses you, and magic becomes your only outlet. The world of magic is no kinder, though, and your attempts to brighten it backfire. Happy endings hastily grasped shatter in your too-large hands, and everything is your fault, until... 

Yukari: You succumb to the darkness. You were never the kind of person who could have a happy ending. She who fights with monsters might take care lest she become a monster, and somewhere in the storm of conflict you find it expedient to throw away your morality and humanity for an increasingly distant greater good. Some hero finds the means to slay you. 

Seina: You and those around you lose faith. After many failures to pull your friends back from the brink, your team falls apart. Cho comes to label you another deceiver, and is she wrong? There was so much you could have done, but you missed your opportunity. You fade and wither and accomplish nothing, until...

Makoto: Your inexperience causes your life to crumble. Civilization can only do so much to bring a stranger into the fold, and you can't find a place in it where you can thrive. The world of magic is dangerous and stressful and lonely and it's all you have left, until... 

Ibara: The boot comes down. Authority tries to keep you from doing good again, and your power reacts in kind. The world- even your magical friends- begin to forget your existence whenever they disagree with you. You become a ghost- unnecessary, unloved, unknown, capable only of scaring the living, until... 

The world: Until... word gets out about the grief sink, turning Tokyo into a hotspot battleground between all the worst of the worst from around the world. It gives out in the midst of this conflict, leaving those worst of the worst to fight each other for survival. Worst of all, the fight claims the lives of civilians, including Joshuya Junko and/or Kaname Tomohisa. The Devil despairs and leaves the world, and the subsequent disappearance of Grief power causes the Incubators to become desperate. They invade Earth, unstoppably, and attempt to recreate the machinery of Grief on their own, turning the world into an entirely fruitless torture factory. Life in the universe collapses and eventually fades away. 

This... is bad. When dealing with forces like these, the worst-case scenario is extremely worst. What’s it going to take to turn this fate away?

Well... let’s start with the big ones. First: Sakura would like to colonize Mars, building a self-sufficient cityscape for magical girls to call home. That’s a whole three Hope points to do- could be more, but magic can do a lot, and it’s not like anybody is opposing her bid. Mars is colonized, no Chaos opposition.

That pairs well with- and reduces the cost of- Yukari’s plan to colonize Earth. That is- she’d like to build an MSY, a magical girl government that applies some structure to the magical world. No more disconnected vigilantes murdering each other all over the planet- an actual organization that can unite megucakind against the Incubators. It only costs her two, with Mars as a base of operations, but this is very much something I’d like to spend Chaos to twist.

See- the problem with establishing a magical government is that there are rivals. All around the world, cannibal warlords like Kimiko and Honoka have been trying to crush their rivals and become the most powerful, and that presence hasn’t just disappeared. For two chaos, this government- Pleroma- becomes embroiled in a long-running war against the monsters that rule the roost. You can imagine plenty of adventures where magical girls are tasked by the government to go into cities ruled by supercannibals to take them down. 

Yukari also spends a few points to stabilize some things. She uses her riches to ensure the team is provided with homes, and also devotes time and resources to ensuring Homura’s plan to bring Madoka back into the world goes successfully.

The last big world obstacle to overcome is... the incubators. No one feels like making an effort to stay hidden- if they’re going to do anything about magic, it’s going to raise some alarm bells with the resident galactic overlords. Becoming strong enough to take on the civilization that rules the universe and created magic itself... that’s expensive. Just resisting them, making humanity enough of a threat to not be worth crushing outright, is six points- too much for any one player to afford. They pool their resources, though- Yukari spending her Chaos, and Makoto and Ibara contributing the rest. As a result, humanity is able to reverse-engineer Incubator technology and make themselves a little too dangerous to risk trying to stomp.

For six chaos, though, the incubators are pretty upset about losing Earth, which was pretty productive. They’ve never had a rival power in the universe before, and they’re not really sure how to handle it. While they can’t actively take over the Earth again, they do continue to show up on Earth in secret, offering the standard deal with a modified Hell Engine repurposed from one of their less productive worlds. Oldtype magical girls continue to be contracted, though it’s of course illegal and not really a smart move- they have to be very careful about who they select, and offer them more power. A shadow war against the Incubators’ new secret servants threatens to destabilize Earth and Pleroma.

Lastly, for five hope and chaos, we get a twist on... an attempt to harness “Hope”, the strange magical power that allowed Sakura and Makoto to save the Hell Engine. While they’re able to establish a Hope-based magic system not built on suffering... 

Well, hope, the new power source of positivity and determination and love and all that, isn’t actually a fundamental force of the universe like whatever the hell the Devil is tapping into to power things with Grief. It’s not clear exactly what Hope is, only how to access it and use it, and for some reason the Devil hates it when you use Hope. If pushed, she’ll tell you- not based on anything but a hunch and a horrible wrenching feeling in her existence- that it’s destroying what’s left of Her. That has to be it, right? You really can’t convince her that Hope is anything other than the burning of Godoka’s corpse. Eventually- not immediately, but far in the future, if people continue to use Hope- she will flee the timeline to get away from the pain, and Grief will no longer function.

So... that’s the general shape of things. Earth and Mars unified under one magical banner, the Incubators more or less driven off, and Hope supplanting Grief as a source of power. That’s pretty great! But what happens to the characters?

However, Yukari, Seina, and Makoto don’t spend any of their points on keeping themselves from falling apart. Makoto, in particular, looks at her worst-case scenario and accepts it, more or less. She doesn’t really find a place in the mundane world- instead, she throws herself into dealing with the various magic stuff that crops up.

Cool, cool...

Standard stuff. As for the rest of her situation...

Makoto also ends up spending points to help make sure Seina ends up okay. Specifically, she intervenes in a brewing crisis wherein Cho attempted to start her old cult again, this time using magic as a recruitment tool. She talks Cho down, gets Seina out of the fire, and settles down out in the countryside- living with Cho, actually.

Sakura, meanwhile, takes it upon herself to make sure Yukari doesn’t go off the rails. She makes sure to stick close, keeping Yukari from throwing herself into unnecessary self-destructive conflicts and keeping her alive during the necessary ones.

So... what does Seina do with all those points she’s not spending on herself? Turns out it’s R&D, mostly. She spearheads the investigation of Hope magic along with Sakura and Ibara, and also throws in... oh, y’know. Solving world hunger, disease, aging, climate change, human wars... all that good stuff. Somebody’s gotta do it, right? Come on, she’s magic, and all those problems are right there!

Sakura... she spends her last couple points of Chaos to recruit some allies. Earth isn’t the only world Incubators have enslaved as a Grief source- for two points, she gets in contact with a race of nautiloids on a nearby planet, and they’re drawn into the resistance movement. They provide some useful technology that reduces the cost of the war, and also... it is specified that through genetic engineering, Nautiloids can, in fact, breed with humans. I... decided not to ask too many questions about that. There are things about tentacles I’d rather not know.

Ibara, meanwhile, has a couple people she wants to help out. Sokoko, for instance, didn’t seem super stable even after they fought the crazy out of her, and Ibara made sure she was taken care of.

Also... remember that time Ibara witched in the Hell Engine and created a twenty-foot-tall imprint of herself on a demon? And then that demon tried to destroy the Hell Engine and got crushed and trapped under the rubble she created? Ibara would like to... not leave her hanging.

Is something I said, which Ibara decided was bullshit and worked around. She pumped Hope into the problem, severing the demon IBARA from the Devil and imbuing it with humanity. G...great??? Two points.

So! That’s... pretty much it for the PCs! Seina and Makoto work to make the world a better place, Yukari and Sakura go around building a space empire, and Ibara pitches in on all that and also kind of becomes a mom.

Before I get into the solo epilogue sections written by the players, here’s the skinny on the NPCs. First, Orino, who gets to embody the party’s mistakes:

THAT’S WHAT YOU GET! THAT’S WHAT YOU ALL GET FOR GOING TO THE MOON SO GODDAMN MUCH! IF YOU CAN USE THE MOON TO HURT ME, I GET TO USE THE MOON TO HURT YOU!!! RAAAAAAAAAA

...anyway. As for Tama-chan and the other fake Incubators...

Did Tama-chan ever actually tell any of you what it meant to become an Incubator? Her fakes... what they did to them was much the same as what the real Incubators did to Orino. They took people who'd had their entire ability to be dissatisfied burned away, and gave them something to be dissatisfied with- something to push them forward to action. What they gave them wasn't anything they designed themselves- none of these mere humans were capable of that. Instead, they gave them something prepackaged, the same thing that'd been given to Kyubey. The same thing given to anyone in Kyubey's line of work. A motive, an intrinsic part of their psychology that told them what their highest priority was. That priority... was to maximize grief production.

A magical girl with no Trauma Tracks is driven only by the very basics of their nature. Whatever they're inclined to do when totally satisfied with their circumstances- a state of being typically inaccessible to magical girls- that's what they do. Miyaichi Masumi's basic inclination was to look for beauty in the world, and so she floated around observing the beauty her magic unthinkingly created.

Fukuda Fumiko's basic inclination was to hang around her friends, finding and attacking weaknesses in other people. With the incubator imperative, she hung around her friends, finding and attacking weaknesses in other people, and tried to interfere with their operations so the impact of their grief sequestering ways would be reduced, improving the efficiency of grief production. The cannibals tell you, in time, what role Fumi-chan played in their activites before you showed up. She made herself much like Nishi-chan meant to be, an antagonistic force which got in their way all the time. Not that she'd stop claiming to be their friend, nor would she stop acting insulted that they no longer trusted her.

This was the basic profile of all of Tama-chan and Nishi's Incubators. The perfect worker is one who doesn't truly care about anything but the cause, who can't be upset by anything except problems with the bottom line. While they may have seemed human, may have been easy to get along with... ultimately, that was all they had.

When you began engineering a new hope-based magic system with the intention of cancelling grief production, this became something of a sticking point.

Tama-chan moved quickly upon realizing what was happening, but not quickly enough. She was able to trick a number of her former loyal lieutenants into having their core motives removed, including Ritsushima Ran, the fake in charge of monitoring and censoring the internet. Amai Asa, the agent assigned to watch over Masumi, was also rescued.

Those who had their motives removed largely reverted to a state much like Masumi's- capricious, impossible to dissuade from a course of action. (This was thanks both to their unbounded magical power, and their inability to be dissatisfied with what they were doing.) A few, whose natural inclinations were useful and predictable, were able to continue to serve roles in Pleroma's structure- but the rest became... well, they were certainly happy, but they were dangerous liabilities until their magic eventually ran out, and considerable Pleroma resources were dedicated to keeping them contained.

Those who did not have their motives removed... became even greater liabilities. Fumi-chan, Hatsu-chan, the nameless one you named Nagato-chan, and many others- they all retained their programming, and when war arrived with the true Incubators, they had little trouble picking sides. Without Tama-chan's operation actively facilitating their respawning, their impact was limited, but they made themselves a significant obstacle. Those who didn't outright die in the war were accepted into the Incubators' ranks, and were eventually forced to flee alongside their masters. You have no way of knowing how well they adapted to Incubator culture.

Fumi-chan was one of those who died in the war. She led a hasty attack on the Martian city of Teppelin, and her ranks were broken by its Princess in her flagship mecha, Seelenfaust. The Princesses of Teppelin and New Candyopolis personally fought in that battle, alongside the field captain of the Pleroma Combat Division's foremost strike unit, Golden Scepter. Reports are mixed as to which of them ended up dealing the fatal blow to the Incubators' cruelest agent, but Makoto- whatever Yoshe is to you, the captain of Golden Scepter remained her first priority. When she visited after that battle, Yoshe was drying her tears for days. 

How about the non-Incubator girls?

Hasebe Hekima... she was the sort of person who had trouble being happy. She wasn't depressed, just... she was suspicious of the whole business. Being happy was an awful lot like being complacent, and she'd fought for her life far too long to be comfortable with that. Much like Yukari, she threw herself into work, spearheading several critical operations against the Incubators during the war in her role in the Pleroma Intelligence Division. Her career in xenopsychological espionage came to an end, however, when she worked with other mind mages in her division to try to extract what was left of her fallen friends from her psyche. She was... successful, in a manner of speaking, but the homunculi she made exhibited only the parts of her friends that could hurt, and the resultant horror at what she'd done drove her to witch faster than her teammates could get to her with hope-based grief healing. Afterwards, she became a Masumi-type, which as horrible fates go isn't as horrible as it could be. Her inclination to seek and draw out the innermost thoughts of others made her a pretty effective therapist until she mysteriously disappeared one day.

Rikimaru Reiko renounced magical girling and got into real estate, working for a struggling property management business and eventually climbing the corporate ladder until she became head of operations. She proceeded to turn it into a rather successful property management business, being one of the first to take the industry to Mars. She occasionally visits her mother in prison to gloat.

Akagi Anzu attempted to follow in Makoto's footsteps and become a heroic magical girl who saved people, which... what with her social anxiety, didn't go very well, at first. She had a pretty significant breakdown after a somewhat public failure where the person she was trying to protect ended up in the hospital, which led with her witching. She was rescued pretty quickly, though, and she kind of did a 180 after that Trauma Track was cleared. Later, when the Devil canceled Grief and the war started, she ended up second-in-command in one of the Pleroma Support Division's Earth orbital patrols, putting together a heroic defense that saved countless lives. After that, she fell in love and ended up a housewife? Apparently that was something she'd been wanting, go figure.

Chigusa Cho never lost faith. She, uh... Makoto had to kind of talk her down from trying to rebuild what she had, as far as the specific cult organizational practices went, but she continued to believe in Ikebana-no-Uzume. And... continued to get annoyed with Ikebana-no-Uzume, who, rather than embark on a mission of brainwashing humanity into universal love and caring, went about wasting her time with pointless crap. World peace? Ending world hunger? Eradicating all disease?! Those were all just band-aids on the fundamental problem, which is that people weren't all united with a single all-loving purpose! She... didn't really do much but complain, though, because she trusted that Seina would get around to it eventually. Makoto and Yoshe just had to put up with her complaining every time the subject came up.

Olivia Gumm struggled to find a mass audience for her work for a while, but... when the masquerade dropped, and real-life magical girls became the hot new thing, she was ahead of the curve and the first on the scene with a breakout hit. Certain parties put pressure on her publisher to give her a better deal, after that, and with that money- plus the backing from a certain niece who was now one of the most powerful and influential people on Ear- I mean, Mars- she was able to start a self-published online manga with a less punishing schedule. 

So... after all that was worked out, I had each of the players write an epilogue for themselves, in keeping what what had been established during play. Here’s what they came up with:

From @koito-yuu​:

Seina got tired of fighting pretty quickly. With everyone else's firepower, there wasn't much need for her in actual combat, provided she kept making healing items.  (For some reason, they never stopped being cat-themed, even after the ears wore off.) She started working on larger problems. Global warming and famine were pretty easy with near-infinite magic plants. Disease was harder, but she eventually figured out how to grow plants that would heal almost anything. The next thing she tried was ending war. Luckily, Yukari's new world government took care of most of it. She ended up discreetly using her emotion magic on some of the more aggressive factions. She barely managed to stop Cho setting up a new cult. Eventually, she started working on magic itself, figuring out how to keep it going after the Devil turned off the grief system. And that was about enough. She retired to Mars. Space was still cool, after all.  

From @thera-prickle, whose google doc I’m just going to link because I’m running up against Tumblr’s new paragraph limit:

How I Met Your Nuther

From @kohotli​:

The sun shines on a stone building on the outskirts of town. In a small barn next to it sits Makoto on a stool, tending to a small flock of chickens. She’s older these days. Her hair is speckled with grey and her skin isn’t as smooth as it used to be. The harvest has been good this year, she shouldn’t need to go back into Tokyo for supplies for a while yet. Cho lives there too. At the end of everything nobody else could really understand what they’d gone through. Makoto tried to fit in with normal society but she was just too different. The adjustment was too difficult. Eventually she made a small farm for herself just far enough from wider society that people didn’t usually stumble on her. 

There was a period where Makoto was more involved with what was going on in magical society. Her powers lead to several advancements in genetic modifications, including making changes so that humans could practically leave the Earth and go elsewhere. The pressure built and built until she eventually bid magical society farewell. 

That night, Makoto tosses and turns in her bed. She’s dreaming of her captivity, then of the constant fights for her and her friends’ lives. She still struggles to feel safe, but between Cho, Sakura, and Yoshe, Makoto has managed to form some happiness for herself. Yoshe leans over to Makoto and gently shakes her. “Makoto, it’s alright,” Yoshe says quietly to her. “It’s just a nightmare.” This kind of thing helps make nights easier. Makoto opens her eyes gently and pulls Yoshe into a hug. 

Sometimes things end up going okay. 

From @eternalfarnham​, again in a google doc:

Goodnight

an excerpt:

Shibu shrugs. “You know, no matter how many times I say it, ‘Martian princess Illuminati’ makes you sound like an even more half-baked conspiracy theory than you already are. You and your magic vampire team running a secret government. Probably with some lizardmen involved somewhere.”

“Found some magical vampires a while back.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Some German girl wished for her own vampire cult --”

“No, no -- shut the fuck up, that’s not even funny at this point, it’s been years --” Setsuna is trying hard not to laugh.

And from @drazelic​, who didn’t use a google doc so I’m gonna paste it into one:

Yukari’s epilogue

Which concludes:

She retires to a convenience store inside Mitakihara. On school-day afternoons, Homura and Madoka come by and purchase various snacks and cute things from her shop; Yukari always makes sure to keep their favorite foods in stock.

Sometimes, other team members will drop by- not every day, but most days. It's kind of on-and-off. Yukari hasn't asked, but it seems the world's doing fine for itself, for the most part, without her needing to micromanage every little thing.

So she sits back behind the counter, legs folded next to the cash register, and idly reads a manga published by Olivia Gumm. Sakura'd- Yukari still can't believe Sakura actually went and decided to make herself the Princess of Mars after everything was over- Sakura had gotten it for her, last time she'd visited, 'to keep her from being too bored'.

It includes a comically unrealistic adaptation of herself, as a cameo. Yukari appreciates it. Once, upon a time, she would not have appreciated it. She supposes she's softened, in that regard.

And as she flips through the pages, she thinks to herself:

Yeah, this is good.

This is good.

And that’s... that’s it. It’s finally over. Thanks to my players for making this possible, and thanks to you for reading.

- NO DRIVER’S LICENSE: END -

#no driver's license

[mrsmess]

Meta season 4 - part 2

The fundamental things apply - Lorelai is being more than a little unfair to Emily. Also, she categorizes Rory’s boyfriends as relationships not dates which I guess is fair.

But dating, when are you just dating except the times you go out with each other before having visited each other’s houses? It’s so confusing. Anyway Rory sucks at them. The guy, toolish as he may be, isn’t bad at conversation or at least not worse than she is. But this, like so many other things in her life, she does out of duty.

Lorelai and Luke watching Casablanca, can’t go wrong with that.

And Luke, once more being the best, is useful even towns apart from Rory. AND he keeps it real with Lorelai who’s really sort of obsessed with the ritual of things, while he questions the use of everything people just do out of routine. Lorelai needs trials to figure out if she’s right with someone, Luke just needs the gut. But then again none of them are that successful romantically. Huh. And Rory tries out the guts thing and is shot down by the Smiths fan, which is lucky in retrospect.

An affair to remember - Rory’s tree. Really, so much of the Yale thing is about the bigger world being full of sharp edges and how much better off/safer we all would be if we could have a good friend like Paris play the role of enemy, and how familiar the green Dean of home can seem. Depressing, but understandable.

Lorelai actually points out that Rory’s taking too many courses (and the pressure increases within them during this episode), Richard obviously disagrees. It’s clear that Rory’s looking to her grandfather rather than her mother for all things college, since he had the experience, even if it was in the jurassic era and even if he is a man (which both would’ve made a difference). “Please don’t worry about me” she says, utterly unwilling to be a burden. Depressing and unfair.

Lorelai keeps keeping Emily out of her life, the narrative is getting a bit tired at this point, which Luckily turns by the end of the episode.

Rory’s unbelievable concentration skills only seems to work under trees, like Dean describes in the pilot. She cannot however claim the tree, which causes her distress, but Lorelai gives her a valuable piece of her mind: “You’re in college, if your studyplan isn’t working, come up with another one.” (One way is to change your planning, another is to ease your workload by, say, dropping a course.)

And we finally get to see some Jason/Lorelai action, he’s a scoundrel, she’s a scoundrel, it’s awesome, and Lorelai gets to win, rightly so. This interaction is a needed breath of fresh air partly because it introduces us to this couple’s chemistry, but also because it has Lorelai defending her mother, showing she understands the life her mother leads, which makes her my favorite character once more.

The festival of living art - Home births are apparently icky (I wouldn’t know anything about it, it’s just interesting how the writers’ issues shine through if you watch a show enough).

“Crazy doofus town.” Rory says adopting a grumpier approach to her home, and always when Taylor’s involved, could you blame her?

“You seem calm [during midterms]” Lorelai says, “On the outside” Rory replies while the first segues into detergent. Then Rory reveals what an evil genius she’s capable of being.

Gil is introduced. Hallelujah!

I love this minor character with a passion and add him to my list of Gilmore Girls characters I wish I had in my life, right under Babette and Morey (already do tbh; my mom and her husband). One of the reasons Zack drives me crazy is his childish attitude to Gil (Zack is the epitome of how terrible men lower the bar to a convenient level for mediocre men like him).

OMG it’s Ron Swanson!

Anti-midwife energy… I swear this show.

Lorelai wants something really badly and is scared when she has the opportunity to get it, a reoccuring thing for her and in line with how her character has taken all the steps you’re supposed to but in a haphazard order which is her weakness and strength. Rory offers the only advise she’s capable of under the circumstances, and one in line with her character: ”Close your eyes and think of England” ie ”Just do it”. Ironically she herself could stand to live a little less by that advise, to stray from the path occasionally is just the ticket to avoid getting really lost.

Die, jerk - Oh, boy. This episode. It’s interesting for several reasons: Doyle - such a great character, newspaper stuff, and a big one for Rory’s identity issues. Her mother’s input means she can reach her true potential when she writes her article.

Lorelai finds out Luke is back w Nicole prompting her to date Jason.

Paris assumes she’s the jerk which made me finally pen THIS post.

Lorelai thinks there’s difference between talking and putting things in print. Fair point. However being obsessed with being personally liked is no way to be a journalist.

Jason and Lorelai chemistry! Jason shows he’s a manipulator to match our leading lady.

Rory tries to rebuild her nice girl persona, but is forced to realize that being good at the craft she’s chosen means being better than others are at theirs. That mastering her craft, learning all about it, means being able to handle all aspects of it.

She could choose a different craft.

#meta #Gilmore Girls #season 4

[veridium]

Inquisitor Theia Trevelyan is camped out in the Fereldan countryside, along with her allies Madame Vivienne, Seeker Cassandra, and Sera. A meeting originally meant for professional consorting turns into a pep talk Theia never knew she needed...at least, she likes to think so, because otherwise it would have been just plain ridiculous.

“I…uh, well,” Theia cleared her throat.

They were convened around the requisition table, a makeshift meeting point for the end of the day’s excursions. Sera sat off the edge of it, hunched and casual. Cassandra stood upright with her arms crossed, yet to disarm herself or get out of her heavy armor. Vivienne, poised and thoughtful, also stood by ready and willing. Theia was in front of them all, rubbing her hand with the other absentmindedly.

“How are the rifts looking in the valley northeast of us?” Theia came back to the present, motioning towards a Scout. Her face, like all of theirs, lit by abundant candle and torch light surrounding them.

“Your Worship, there’s still some stirrings and we caught two sightings of demons, but the valley has quieted down significantly since you closed the first few,” the Scout replied.

Theia nodded, peering down at the table. “Good, we’ll keep pushing then. That will be tomorrow morning’s first task,” she asserted.

Sera watched the Inquisitor carefully, like a cute wild animal had made its way out into the clear path before her.

“I always get kicks when it’s us girlies, yea? Who knows what fun we can get hip deep stuck-in. I say we go down to the village pubs and find us some non-demony trouble. Fun trouble, right Inquisitor?” her legs swung out energetically.

“Absolutely not,” Vivienne chimed in, her hands resting on her sides.

“I agree with Vivienne. We need rest, and gallavanting into the town will hardly set the example the Inquisition is expected to,” Cassandra joined in.

Theia put her hands on her hips, her shoulders and ribs aching. “Sera, normally I would be amenable, but—”

“Oh, stick it, you’re only marchin’ after Viv’s snobby skirts and Cassandra’s boot-lickin.’ C’mon, I’m sure you are the big lovey dream for all those girls down there,” she teased, shoulders shimmying a bit out of jest.

Theia blushed self-consciously. “Sera, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Vivienne’s eyes showed a spark of curiosity, as did Cassandra’s now. Theia looked at them all one by one, and felt even more like climbing under a rock and hiding. Or letting the cave spiders have her, whichever was most in-reach.

“Whatzis?” Sera asked, quickly jumping forward and snatching a piece of paper tucked between Theia’s back and her belt. She hopped away from Theia’s swinging hand that tried to recover it from her instinctively.

“Sera! Stop!” Theia sounded like a frustrated older sibling more than anything.

It was a little too late, though, unless Theia saw fit to turn Sera into an iceberg. Vivienne and Cassandra watched, but didn’t want to get their hands dirty…yet.

Sera turned and held the letter to her face. “Yugggh, this thing smells like a flower’s asshole!” she commented, trying to undo the meticulous folding. Theia jumped on her and reached for it, but whereas Theia went high, Sera went low, and dodged her maneuver.

“Sera, I order you!—”

“Heh heh, this tissue paper came from Lady Josie! I knew it!” Sera declared, hopping on top of the requisition table.

Theia froze in her tracks, and her arms fell to her side loudly. “Ugh, Sera, please,” she groaned loudly.

Her eyes veered to look at Cassandra and Vivienne, who stood quietly for a moment, stone-faced. Oh great, now they must think I’m a philandering girl. There goes any and all authority for this trip. I’m never going to live this down.

Theia’s nerves were compounded when she saw Cassandra put her hand to her mouth lightly, and what looked like a grin appeared. Then, giggling.

Vivienne’s eyes rolled. “My dear, you assume much about your abilities to hide personal intrigues from us,” she said, coming forward and sitting on the corner of the table.

“Cassandra! You owe me your dinner ration!” Sera yelled, still perched on the table like a mountain top from which she would declare all of Theia’s dirty details for all of Thedas to hear.

“It seems that I do. I did not think it would be this easy to discover the truth,” Cassandra’s voice indicated the smug smile she wore.

Theia turned and began pacing. “This is ridiculous. That was a report on the diplomatic affairs from the past week. Josephine’s parchment smells like that, everyone knows it!”

“My dear, just pull the splinter out, already,” Vivienne advised.

A pause occurred, where Theia stared at everyone and vice versa, waiting for the break down.

“Here I thought an excursion with us women would be so much more pragmatic and sensible. Remind me next time that Iron Bull’s jests and Solas’ “insomnia” is EASILY the right way to go,” Theia gave up, throwing her hands in the air. Surrender, sweet, sweet, surrender as far as Sera was concerned.

“So, how she kiss? Is it all prissy and puckery or does she got a secret weapon?” Sera crouched down and made eye contact with the Inquisitor.

“We—” Theia was cut off.

“Oh, please, Sera, women like Lady Montilyet are hardly that simplistic in nature. If anything, our Inquisitor should gird her loins and prepare to be educated. A former bard is a weapon master in more ways than one might expect,” Vivienne mused, her arms folding. Ladies were ladies, and depending on who you talked to, that could mean one of a thousand different truths. Vivienne sided with the one where prisoners weren’t taken, and love was as sharp as a staff blade.

“Please, both of you, Theia is the only one that can speak from experience.” Cassandra turned, as did they all, to stare Theia down. Cassandra would be lying, though, if she said she did not wish to hear the romantic tale she was sure was awaiting being told.

Theia’s chest tightened. “I, um--”

“Don’t be ashamed, Inquisitor,” Cassandra kept at it, trying to do her best to encourage her friend. Too bad it was more of a mortification.

The suspenseful silence stifled the air as Theia thought of how she could escape this ghastly situation. The thoughts and nerves swarmed in her head and her cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“…I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING, OKAY?” she finally trumpeted. The subsequent silence gave way to every Scout and Camper’s eyes turning towards their area, curious. Theia growled when she felt like the interrogation had grown even bigger, and she turned away from the table reclusively.

Cassandra’s eyes widened. Vivienne looked unsurprised…unsurprisingly. Sera bit her lip, trying to hold it back, but eventually it blurted out: the dooming, unforgiving laughter.

“She….you…whats….ah, you poor…girly…” she said through her laughter, losing breath out of her lungs and causing her to gasp.

“Sera, you sound like a dying Bronto, please, maintain decorum,” Vivienne sneered, a hand motioning upwards. With a snap of her fingers, the map under Sera’s feet grew a layer of slippery ice. Sera couldn’t tell until her feet were swept out from under her, and she landed squarely on her ass.

“Viv! you bi—”

“—'Beautiful, rapturous creature, thank you for reminding me of my duty to set an example as an Inquisition ally.’ Why, you are welcome, darling!” Vivienne was never one for lack of control.

Meanwhile, Cassandra’s attention was squarely on the Herald. “Your Worship, I apologize. I did not know things were so…fundamental,” she tried to walk the situation back, but the embarrassment had been done.

Theia was quiet, reeling. “No, no. You all had to pry. Now you get to deal with my dirty laundry with me.” Her voice grew vindictive, and she turned to face them, unafraid. “It’s not that…I don’t want to, or anything. It’s just…complicated.”

Vivienne’s eyes narrowed. “In what regard?”

“In…well…”

“…Oh, she means…” Cassandra said, turning to Sera.

“Simple, she don’t know how to uncork the bottle or string the bow. Pity, maybe it’s good and all that we didn’t unleash you on the pub girls,” Sera’s voice was still clever, but a touch more sympathetic.

Theia sighed. “Yes, well, consider that disaster avoided well and good.” She went and sat at the table now, and put her head in her hands as her fingers sifted through her long, light hair.

“I have no prior experiences with women. I know…basics, but, I have no clue as to how to translate them to…someone else’s…” her eyes squinted a bit as she tried to come up with a euphemism quicker than Sera could say it the brutally honest way.

“It’s a pity women are given lip service about their rights in dignities and yet encouraged so little in actually implementing them. Men are fragile creatures. Imagine if we found one more thing they become an accessory for, besides running the Chantry, saving Fereldan, killing demons,” Vivienne observed harshly.

“Well, that is besides the point,” Cassandra tried to digress the conversation.

“I don’t need to be told what to do, I just need to get to a point where I feel comfortable doing things. It’s hardly a worldly matter worthy of Inquisition deliberation out in the middle of the desert,” Theia was beginning to close off.

“Now, listen ‘ere, Inquisitor. I know you got all this shite together every day and all, but this is one problem you can’t just stone-face into gettin’ fixed. Whatchya gonna do, wander back into the Fade and ask a despair demon what’s the deal?”

“I do agree, for once, with Sera. How else can you feel advised without letting on that you are actually daft?” Vivienne’s head tilted.

“I disagree. I think it best you talk with the Lady Ambassador about your anxieties. She is not anyone to be afraid of in matters of personality.” Cassandra wanted to see her friend be happy, and feel a connection to someone who could keep her that way. Josephine was as good of a choice as anyone for that cause.

“Maker’s breath, We haven’t even kissed yet, and you want me to divulge that I don’t just know little to nothing, but that I actually do not know anything about how to…act…that way?”

“It’s sex, Inquisitor, not the Harrowing.”

“I know that well enough, Madame.”

“Well then, you were incorrect, you know one thing about it.”

“Ugh,” Theia let her head rest on the table. She was reaching her limit, and that was only if she hadn’t ran past it already.

Cassandra sat beside Theia and put a hand on her shoulder. “I meant what I said, Inquisitor. The best course of action is honesty. Lady Montilyet will appreciate your candidness, her job is to decipher countless deceptions and double-dealings.”

Sera chuckled. “Yeah, make it so raw and in front of her face all she sees is you being cute, then boom, take your shirt off.”

Vivienne and Cassandra glared at Sera, who in turn rubbed the back of her head and stopped talking.

Theia’s voice was muffled against the wood. “I don’t know why I let this conversation get this far. I’d rather let a Venatori fillet me for breakfast,” she lamented.

“Who knows what the future yet holds, my Dear. In a day you may be begging to philander into bed like a newborn deer out in the woods,” Vivienne slid off the table to stand on her two feet.

A moment passed before Theia sat upright again. “Fine, then. One final word from each of you, and then we go to bed and forget this ever happened. What would be your one sentence of advice or insight into the prospect of loving a woman? Only one sentence. No back talk, no illustrious context. That’s it. Sera, so we can rip the bandage off, you go first. Have mercy,” Theia held her breath, against her better judgement.

Sera was about to mouth off, but then she stopped herself. Memories and awkward sensations of the past filled her bones, and she felt suddenly compelled to be sincere.

“Don’t make her feel like she’s ought to be thrown out after you had her, Inquisitor. Women are a lot, but they’re not garbage,” she said, with a facial expression that was almost intimidating and forceful.

Theia’s eyebrows raised, surprised and relieved. “Very well, it was not my intention to. Vivienne?”

Vivienne sighed sweetly. “My dear, go slow, and do not expect more than you can give, for pity’s sake. Goodnight,” and with that, she turned on her hip and walked to her cot resolutely. Done and done.

Theia nodded a few times, wondering whether to be touched, or insulted. As often was the case with Madame de Fer.

Her eyes finally locked on Cassandra’s, who looked almost bashful.

“I do not consider myself well-versed in any way, my Lady. But, if I were to speak on my own experience, I’d say words are just as powerful as motions. Use that to your advantage when you feel out of your depth.”

Theia smirked. “I believe you know just how capable I am of talking myself out of a ditch, Seeker.”

Cassandra shrugged, “Yes, but you also talk yourself into them, sometimes.”

A gasp came from Theia’s throat.

“And besides,” Cassandra added, “if your bluff face is anything like it was last night, you are going to need your communication skills.” A chuckle was held back as she spoke.

“Okay, alright, we’re done here. No more roasting the Inquisitor over the camp fire. Beds, sleep, night walking, whatever you all do with your time!” Theia stood, waving her hand around, before grabbing Josephine’s letter from the table and scurrying off with it.

Sera stood next to Cassandra, and dusted off her hands. “Shite, I’m not gettin’ that oily stuff off my hands for a week.”

#oc stuff #fanfiction #theia trevelyan #inquisitor x josephine #josephine montilyet #cassandra pentaghast #madame vivienne #sera #dragon age #dragon age inquisition

[allmyluckwentintofacebookpoker]

Writings from my heart, my soul

This is a test to challenge myself in writing, to be as passionate as I can be;

as much as that, it’s a challenge to write good things about people I don’t like, and to write sweet thoughts about people that are far in my past, see, I want to be positive, it’s apart of the person I want to be. I must try.

Nicknames and inside jokes, I don’t think I’d really appreciate my name being on someone’s blog out there, sure they’re the same.

“Iowa”

I think what I’ve always respected about you is that you’ve had a plan, a clear goal towards getting something done. It wasn’t always the right thing, and sometimes it was fueled by emotion more than logic, but your focus all the same was just to decide on some plan, soften it with kindness, and initiate your sweet scheme. Especially, you were mature, you figured out how to make me feel better and give me that emotional support without having to break down my walls, or make me feel weak for that support. We talked, you’d get to the point, and just like that I felt back at it again. People always either make me breakdown or have absolutely no effect, but you found the sweet spot, you spoke to me like a friend and that’s so very rare.

“Misa“

I’ll be honest, for a long time I loved you because I wanted to look after you, I built a bond with you over compassion and over empathy, I gained an interest in you because you were interesting and because I think we both needed a someone, I think it was as much that as it was the character you had, showed more than anybody else's. I think at the time, you were the closest thing I had to a best friend, I fell in love with you because your smile made me smile, and I was too young to explain why, you were the first person I spent my nights thinking about, my hours wishing to talk to, my mornings waiting for a message, frankly you were the first person I think I ever truthfully loved, I think my life up until now, you’re the person I’ve fallen in love with most naturally which says a lot, you were interesting, you had taste in music and curious fashion, on the most fundamental level, you were captivating. As I grew to know you more, I realized that you were so much deeper than what I thought I knew, I found out you had been through so much, and yet you were such a sweet soul. I liked you because you were sweet enough to be friends with a boy from around the world, and I adored you because you were able to be so sweet even when nothing in your life was.

“Cub”

You were for a time, the most positively wonderful person I had ever known, to this day I think maybe you still are. You always had a deep thought for the world around you and the way you would tell me about your life would reflect that, I can distinctly hear you saying something so passionate about a part of your day as simple as a conversation with someone, or a bird sitting on a branch, when we met you wondered if I really wanted to know and the memory is so fond because with all of my heart, I wanted to know every thought you had. I fell in love with you because of the way you saw the world. You’re the sweetest soul I’ve ever met for that. You were beautiful when I first met you, but by the time I was in love you were the most beautiful girl in the world, and I know that was because like nobody else I had ever met in my life, you could see soul in everything.

“Geef”

You were the one that showed me the world, you were the one that showed me what it meant to love, what it meant to be passionate, to care, to cry, to be able to cry. You were the foundation of my love life, and in a way, a foundation of who I am, and who I want to be, as much as I’m against it I’ve got to admit it, you were what made me fall in love with my future. The idea of love, the idea of late nights talking in bed, the idea of being not a boyfriend, not a contact, not a partner, but something so much indescribably special, that was the first time I ever felt truly valued as a person, you made me feel like I could take on the world as long as I came back to you at the end of the night, and nobody else has ever managed to do that, not yet. All in all, In a less.. professional.. and a more.. emotional and passionate way, you were inspiring, you inspired me not just to adore things, but to actively seek things out to be adored, you inspired me to meet strangers, you pushed me out of my comfort zone, you made me feel whole when I once felt desolate. I’ll always think of you as the girl that opened my eyes, as the one that had a strong enough presence in my life to make me want to explore better things.

“Agnes”

I’ve always liked your resilience, sure, you think that the circumstances you’re in are saddening, depressing even, and that I can’t agree or disagree, but I enjoy that in the same way you can say you’re sad, you can make a joke, I enjoy that in the same hour you cry, you can smile, and I love that the passionate things I write about make you cry, not because they’re sweet, not because they’re especially well-written, but because you have a heart of gold and you just don’t know it. All the time I’ve known you, I’ve known you to be full of emotion with so much, your heart fortifies my thoughts and for that, I value you so much. You’re more valuable as my friend than I can think to say because your emotions are as strong as they are honest, and I’ve never seen you lie.

“Executive Order”

I was reading the chats back tonight and I think I had to do that or this would have been harder just out of our short time together. It was early into our relationship, a month or so, and we were still learning to bond, and I had a problem with something that you had done, a moral problem, a problem as your boyfriend also, and you didn’t shut me down, you didn’t deflect or detest, you fully explained, and you put so much effort into that explanation, I think that you had done this with so many other things as well, it was absolutely one of the reasons I had loved you, very few people in my life have been able to put that effort in when it comes to confronting them. I hold this idea in my head that you’ve got to find the right man, and when you do you and him will empower each other like a sun on a solar panel. It’ll be exciting when you learn that you’ve got so much energy for someone you love, you could be one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.

“Cherry”

Cherry, mon cheri, mon amie. You are by any definition, the most captivating girl I have ever met in my life, this entire post started with the thought of you, a little old music video, with a sweet girl looking into someones eyes and I must have had this flashback to when we first met, the way you’d look into my eyes and I swear nothing was more blissfully intoxicating; the prettiest eyes I had ever had the pleasure of seeing and that’s as much because of the personality behind them as anything. All in all it was your personality I fell in love with, you were and continue to be, unapologetically curious, vibrant, passionate, cute, and I know you have these beliefs that you don’t think into anything, but I have a good memory or two of you just sitting and telling me about what’s been on your mind, I fell in love with the way you’d tell me things, especially when you were excited, you didn’t care for a filter, you never thought to limit yourself or slow down, you just jumped at the thought of whatever made your heart flutter and I cannot put into words how precious that makes you to me. I fell in love with the way that you’d fall in love with the cute things in our world, how a walk with you would turn into an adventure, I’ve always said in my life that with someone you love, a good time becomes a great time, you’re the best example I’ve ever known of that. The part of you I’ve loved best is who you are deep down, you’re somebody that wants to sing, somebody that wants to be loved, somebody that wants to experience, somebody who wants to be pure of heart. You’ve always had a golden heart, honest emotions and true feelings, you’ve been true to them too, as much as your surface-level character is going to dislike this and I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to realize, I think that you’re the most endearingly mature person I have ever met, to make your hard decisions with conviction, and to still be so alluringly cute; very easy to love.

Heres the order I wrote it in, the people I found it easiest to passionately write about, I wanted to include this because... it’s interesting, interpret it however you like, I certainly have some interesting thoughts about it.

there was Cub, and then I sat here for like 5 minutes thinking who the fuck do I write about next, and then it was “Iowa”, and I enjoyed writing that one because honestly, I had never thought about our relationship like that, made me smile to think of her reading it. I wrote about Agnes next, this one makes me happy also because I never think to say anything sweet, she’s my friend, how many friends can you say you really sit back and think about? I did, and I’m glad I did, I realized she’s much closer to my heart than I thought. I then wrote about Misa, which I’m still thinking about, I feel like what I’ve written is just wrong, like it doesn’t do it justice but in all honesty its the most accurate way I could have written it. Still can’t think of anything to write about “Geef”, guess we’ll skip that one. Wrote about “Executive Order”, maybe my least passionate relationship (which feels sad to say, but I must say it to preserve the sanctity of my own memory), but it was nice to write a nice thought, I feel almost a closure, a closure I never thought I needed, but suddenly makes me feel so detached, how surprisingly lovely? I think I dare not leave this epilogue ending on the topic of my worst ex, so I best write about her now and leave a sweeter thought for last. Done, part of me always feels bad talking about her, but I feel like that was a nice way to sum it up, honestly this entire little post is turning out much nicer than I had thought it would, it’s having some deeper effect than I’d have thought it would; and now my sweet Cherry. The longest one on the list, I think simply put, single worded descriptions can’t describe my thoughts for this girl.

Anyway I’m sitting in my chair at 3am waiting for a game to download, had this idea for a fair few days now and I’d like whoever is reading this to know I’m now sitting in my chair at 3am waiting for a game to download, while smiling, like an absolute dork, because this has been a really sweet train of thought I’ve had while I’ve written this. I hope it was sweet for you.

#writing #love #passion #good thoughts #positivity #cant believe it took me so long to see these sweet things

[aion-rsa]

Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales Review

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This Spider-Man: Miles Morales review contains spoilers.

At the dawn of a new console generation, Insomniac Games brings us the PlayStation-exclusive Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales, a continuation of the studio’s excellent Marvel’s Spider-Man. It’s a full-bodied game with a compelling, emotional story at its heart, and while much of the game will feel familiar to those who have played its predecessor, the storytelling and characters have a distinctive tone that sets the game apart.

The story picks up one year after the conclusion of the first game, with teenage hero Miles Morales sitting under Peter Parker’s proverbial learning tree, helping the OG webhead keep New York City safe and learning on the job. When Peter goes on holiday with Mary Jane to Europe, Miles is left as the city’s sole protector, and it’s not long before he’s put to the test. Urban warfare breaks out between shady tech corporation Roxxon and a mysterious mastermind named the Tinkerer. Throughout the game’s campaign, we follow Miles as pushes himself to the breaking point to keep the peace.

What I appreciated most about the story is that it’s deeply personal and more culturally in tune with New York City’s diverse communities. Outside of his superheroics, Miles is anchored by his city council-campaigning mom, Rio Morales, his social media-savvy best friend Ganke, and his “other best friend” Phin, with whom he built an “energy converter” at the tech academy they attended (they’re…giant nerds).

Some of the best games released this year have featured people of color in prominent roles, and Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales is no exception, boasting a diverse and fleshed out cast. Miles and his mom move from Brooklyn to Harlem at the story’s outset, and it’s clear the developers took the time to ensure that the game reflected what these neighborhoods and communities are all about. The game’s title screen features a close-up of Miles’s 6-inch Timbs on an NYC subway, at one his mom buys them dulce de coco while out on the street, and on several occasions we see residents of Harlem calling Miles’s Spider-Man “OUR Spider-Man.” I’ve got absolutely nothing bad to say about Peter Parker or the mainline Spider-Man franchise, yet it’s such a joy to see blockbuster superhero stories being told that don’t revolve around white men.

It’s important to note that this review is based on the PlayStation version of the game. While the graphically enhanced PS5 version will undoubtedly look spectacular, I’ve got to say that this game already looks dazzling on current-gen hardware. The New York Cityscape from the first game is as picturesque as ever, except this time you get to see the city blanketed in snow, with Miles swinging up and down Manhattan in the wintertime as the city readies for the holidays. 

The game looks smoother and more refined than its predecessor. Lighting, shadow effects, and texture quality seem to have been improved, but what really stands out is the animation. Insomniac did a great job with character animations in the first game (the game’s excellent motion blur effects aid this greatly), and the studio has managed to push things even further. Characters move and gesture more naturally than ever before. Miles’s movement reflects his personality and age in an interesting way, too–he’s less confident and experienced than Peter, so his swinging and fighting are a bit less elegant and slightly more awkward.

The animation is of course driven by the gameplay, which is fundamentally the same as what we saw in the original game but sees some interesting tweaks, particularly in regards to enemy encounters. While Peter Parker’s three skill trees were “Innovator,” “Defender,” and “Webslinger,” which focused on combat, evasion, and traversal, respectively, Miles’s three trees are “Combat Skills,” “Venom Skills,” and “Camouflage Skills.”

“Combat Skills” improve melee attacks and give you perks that shorten cooldown times, allow you to perform more effective disarm techniques, and more. “Venom Skills” harness Miles’ newly acquired “Venom Power,” which allows him to charge objects and fry enemies with crackling bolts of electricity that can break through armor, take down gigantic foes like the rampaging Rhino, and even launch Miles and his enemies high into the air (this affects traversal as well). “Camouflage Skills” revolve around Miles’s other new ability, to turn invisible for a period of time, with the various skills in the tree bolstering your ability to take enemies out stealthily.

Miles’s venom power and camouflage abilities help enemy encounters stand out from the first game while maintaining the same fluidity of combat that Insomniac perfected in the original. The combat system isn’t without its flaws, though. For example, things can get a little messy and too cluttered when a ton of enemies are all lunging and shooting at you at once, which can make it almost impossible to follow the action or discern what the Spider Sense indicators are telling you. A few of these hectic action sequences resulted in my death, which felt a little cheap, but turning invisible also saved my ass numerous times in tense situations. Overall, though, the combat is on par with what you’ve come to expect from this franchise. The stealth elements were also a blast to mess around with, especially in combination with the venom powers.

Release Date: Nov. 12, 2020 Platforms: PS4 (reviewed), PS5 Developer: Insomniac Games Publisher: Sony Interactive Entertainment Genre: Action-adventure

There are a multitude of missions and tasks to complete around the city, including enemy base takeovers, hidden enemy caches, and ability trials that earn you new skills. I loved the latter—Peter set up the trials for Miles, and his commentary during these sections via “hard-light” hologram is hilarious.

The game also offers a new way to accept missions in the form of a social media app Ganke creates where civilians in need can connect with Miles directly. There’s also a “Social Feed” tab that’s been added to the pause menu where you can read comments from people around the city and watch Rio Morales interact with her supporters as she campaigns for city council. It’s a supplemental feature that you can choose to ignore, though it does help flesh out the game world. I appreciated Insomniac’s commitment to making New York feel alive with activity and social interaction, and it definitely added to my experience in a good way.

But again, what truly makes Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales such a worthwhile experience is the story, and it unfolds nicely, with a central plot twist that isn’t simply meant to surprise you—it adds depth to the narrative and raises the emotional stakes about as high as they can get. This is a story about New York’s marginalized communities, embracing one’s true self, and the sacrifice it takes to exceed expectations.

I’ll try to avoid spoilers here, but I do have one major gripe with the storytelling. One of the main character arcs in the game feels disingenuous and unearned, especially toward the end of the game. The story sets this character up nicely in the beginning and conveys a clear sense of who they are, but the way they behave at the end of the game just feels too extreme and doesn’t make much sense. This wasn’t a dealbreaker for me, but it definitely left me scratching my head.

Insomniac created one of the best superhero games of all time in Marvel’s Spider-Man, and all of the things that made that game great are still present in Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales. Swinging around New York is as exhilarating as ever, and the new weather effects Insomniac has implemented — a brutal thunderstorm late in the game is a standout — look fantastic and a bit more depth to the game world.

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One of the geekier appeals of the original game was the array of unlockable costumes, and the feature returns with even more awesome costumes for Miles to don. His version of the 2099 costume is one of my favorites, as is the Into the Spider-Verse suit, which is sure to please fans of the runaway 2018 hit movie.

There are a ton of surprises and tie-ins to the first game that are revealed as you play Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales which I can’t reveal here, but it’s safe to say that Insomniac isn’t anywhere near done telling this story. I had a great time with the game, and while some will probably complain that the campaign is a tad short, I respectfully disagree. It took me around 16 hours to complete the main story (I often got lost in side missions and aimless swinging on the way), and this honestly felt like the sweet spot length-wise. The story felt tight with little filler, the gameplay never grew stale, and I enjoyed myself from beginning to end.

The post Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales Review appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek