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#but when has the replaced au ever been realistic
mee-op · 2 years
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so... replaced mc au but with twisted wonderland anyone?
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wordstome · 6 months
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Single Dad!König (Dream Daddy au)
(+ a bit of Ghost under the cut)
Thank you to everyone who indulged (said exactly what I asked them to say 😅) me.
Here’s the paragraph I wrote:
I imagine his heart sinking when Ava comes home sad and quiet, unwilling to look her dad in the eye. He recognizes what that means: that used to be him as a kid. His worst fears are confirmed when Ava admits she's being harassed by a boy at school, replaced by anger when Ava says her teachers simply shrugged and told her that boys will be boys, and has she considered that maybe he just has a crush on her? Needless to say, by the time König's walking out of that school, nobody will ever be hurting his little girl ever again. Honestly, one glimpse of Ava's dad by her classmates will keep her free from bullying for the rest of her life.
Now here’s a bit more about single dad König, namely, how he came to be a dad…and single :( Angst and death tw ahead (nothing graphic)
With Ghost, I said he would only have had Caden due to an accident, because of Simon’s previous trauma involving his family. He was firmly in the mindset that he would die in the field, he’s just not built for civilian life anymore, he's a danger to everyone who loves him. However, when Caden shows up at his doorstep, all he can think about is Tommy and his nephew Joseph when he looks at the boy. He probably does his best to get Caden sent to a different family member, but let’s suspend our disbelief that any responsible social worker would leave a kid with Simon “Ghost” Riley for a moment and say that the social worker is like “It’s you or the foster care system.” Realistically, Simon would probably be like “foster care is safer than living with me” but for the purposes of the AU, he took the kid in.
With König, he doesn’t have the same trauma/hangups regarding kids and family. He’s in the same boat as Simon: he’s a human weapon, and can’t function properly in civilian life. For König, his work is an outlet and keeps him stable. I’m gonna have to sit down and make a proper post about my König’s character (Alexander), but for my König, violence is a method of regulating his emotions and a way to manage his anxiety. Having power and being hyper competent in the field is key to his mental stability. However, I think he would be able to settle down, it would just take a very patient, special woman. (For the purposes of the AU his first partner is AFAB she/her.) Here’s where I start breaking hearts… 🤭
In Dream Daddy au, König considers his first wife the love of his life. She deeply understood him as a person and wasn’t afraid of him, even when he was socially awkward and intimidating. They were honestly kindred spirits: both of them had their neuroses and flaws, but instead of trying to fix each other or mold the other into some ideal partner, they accepted each other and thus were able to grow together. (And tbh they were already a match made in heaven anyway.) König’s wife never asked him to quit, and was completely ready to raise a child with him frequently being gone. She was a badass woman, and she really, really wanted to start a family with him, so they had Ava.
For three years, König was probably the happiest he’s been in a long time, and if you asked him he’d probably say it was the happiest time in his life. He was moving up the ranks at work, his mental health was in check, and he had a wife and adorable little daughter to go home to every leave. He started planning to transfer to a safer/more stable position, because as much as the military has done for him, he’s ready to step up as a father and a husband. Then he gets a call that changes his life forever, and suddenly he doesn’t get a choice anymore.
(I'm eternally sorry to the little fictional people I made up in my head because I entertained the idea of putting the Brooklyn 99 "Guess who got murdered!" gif here...)
One thing y'all need to know about my man Alexander is that he is the embodiment of "I am not meant for casual. I was born for soul-crushing devotion." His problem is that he never had devotion before his wife: he craved it like a starving man, and it engulfed him like water flowing into a basin when he got it. He had it for a handful of years (I'm thinking 6 but that's a flexible number), and now it's gone again. You know in movies when something horrible happens and they cut all the noise and there's just a high pitched ringing sound? That's König getting that phone call.
God. All I can imagine is König dropping everything and taking the next flight home. He’s in a daze, in a way that he’s never quite been before. His mind is finally quiet, but the emptiness is not peaceful. Then he finally sees his little girl, she runs into his arms, and the dam bursts. He just holds her and cries. He’s numb, a dead man walking throughout all the business that needs to be taken care of after his wife’s death. The only thing that brings him back to the land of the living is Ava. She’s so small, so sweet, and she doesn’t really understand what death means: all she knows is that her mama’s gone somewhere, and her dad is so, so sad all the time. She’s all that keeps him going, and the only reason he keeps himself alive.
By the time you come into his life, it’s been several years, but Ava is still a little girl. She doesn’t remember her mother at all except what König tells and shows her, because he’s determined to keep her memory alive. König’s been slowly rebuilding who he is as a person from whatever scraps are left. There’s a gaping hole inside him, and he’s reconstructed himself around the hole. In some ways he’s a totally new man, in other ways, he’s gone back to who he was before his wife came along. He’s bitter and angry at the way his life has treated him just as he was as a young man, but now he’s swallowed up by guilt and self loathing. He's gotten better at coping and functioning as the years have passed and life has continued on, but his grief has never really gone away.
(alexa, play "right where you left me" by taylor swift)
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cream0fwheat1998 · 8 months
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Of Mean & Mice (Dark! Rafe Cameron x Reader)
Summary: College student y/n is invited to a girls' night by classman Sarah Cameron. All is not what it seems when she assaulted by Sarah older brother, who just happens to be staying at their parents house at the same time.
AU. Everyone is College-aged or older. 18+ thank you.
Warning: NONCON, assault and dark Rafe.
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Rafe Cameron threw his empty beer can into the sand; the typically humid air has chilled as winter nears in the Outer Banks.
"Fuck you Sarah; you owe me." He tossed the "adult" photos of his sister into the bonfire. He didn't like her too much, regardless, he never wanted to see naked photos that her scorned ex had taken without her knowledge.
"I know, you asshole. I'm thinking." Sarah crossed her arms and sat into the sand with a defeated sigh.
"You could think faster; it wasnt easy to get Topper to give up those pics. My current supply of Coke - fucking gone." He said, pulling a pack of cigarettes & a lighter out of his pocket.
Sarah thought back to the moment the photos were taken. She had been waiting for that moment with John B. It was suppose to be special; and it was, until Topper had gotten sloppy with the flash of his camera. The heat of her and John B's skin, the longing in each others' eyes was replaced by panic and aggression for the pervert that ran from the bushes he had been hiding in.
Rafe noticed the single tear fall down Sarah's cheek. He didn't feel bad for her; but he was frustrated at the situation Topper had put all of them in. Kelce's poor taste in humor made the situation even more aggravating. The glance at the photos had him flustered but not because of his sister, that'd be disgusting. He could tell Sarah was distraught more than usual and felt that this was finally the time where he'd be owed something from someone else.
It had been a lifetime since he felt this powerful. Yeah, Rafe had money, drugs and Women whenever and wherever he wanted but as he has gown older; nearing 30, he knew he felt a loss for something that had never existed in his heart.
Real Love.
Rafe scoffed at the stupidest, fucking idea he ever had. It'd never be possible for him to find someone that would love him. But he could force someone; but who? Some of these whores were too willing & eager to share Rafe's bed. Only because of the weight of his families name and the weight of his bank account.
He shook his head; realistically, he knew he was no saint himself but he knew how to use his resources and powers to his favor. Above all, he loved to dangle it above others' heads.
"Find me a girl Sarah. Anyone. Not ugly, please. But someone who looks like shed be easy to tell what to do and say." He said, looking into the deep, dark sky.
Sarah shook her head and chuckled slightly, "You're fucking messed up but fine. I don't where to start though...." She glanced at her brother who was lighting a cigarette.
"Just fucking do it. Thats what you'll owe me. You have a week or I let Topper release the backup photos he probably has somewhere." Rafe looked back at his sister while taking a long inhale of his smoke.
Rafe felt good as the rush of nicotine hit him. He desired change.
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Y/n sat at the instructor droned on about the class issue. Today she wasn't particularly attentive with the health of her father in mind. She and him didn't start off with a great relationship but since he's come back into her and her mothers life; both of them have made and effort to be civil.
When the past started to dissolve into nothing and the future seemed possible, all was lost when her dad went to the doctors for some stomach issues that have turned out to be a large problem than once believed.
On top of all that, she had noticed some stares from a girl in class. Sarah; Y/n thought. She was rather pretty but seemed kinda bitchy through her disinterested & entitled tone she typically spoke in. But the stares weren't mean; her eyes were bright and teeth as white as the moon shone at her from time to time. It was odd because this never happened before.
At the chime of the clock, the instructor put down his pointer and dismissed all of them. (Y/n) gathered her papers and stuffed them into an already full backpack.
The shame from falling behind her assignments felt heavy but Y/n couldnt bring herself to lift a pencil to a paper with the rest of the world on her shoulders.
A tap on her shoulder made her heart speed up as she twirled around to see 'Sarah' standing behind her with a wide smile.
Y/n glanced around the nearly empty classroom but it seemed she really was the one Sarah was waiting on.
When y/n didn't say anything Sarah rolled her eyes, "Hey i'm Sarah. Listen I'm having a girl only bonfire friday and I'm inviting alot of girls in my classes. I thought I might as well ask you so.....do you wanna go?" Sarah handed her flyer with an address and clip art on it.
Before y/n could answer as the Un-comfortability of being singled out dawned upon her; Sarah dismissed any possibility of a 'no'.
"Please come. It'll be fun and much better than whatever you already had planned. Think about it and text me by midnight." Sarah asked and hurried out of the room.
Multiple thoughts crossed y/n's mind as she head to her car in the parking lot. There were still 2 classes left but the overwhelming social possibilities along with the stuff that already had her mind in a headlock weighed against her. She had no mental capacity for anything new.
While her home was silent and dark; Y/n thought about the uncertainty of it all. Her parents were at the hospital for another check up and she offered to join but they wanted her to focus in school and asked her to stay away.
As the numbers on her phone changed and the sky got darker; y/n decided to take a once in a lifetime chance before she fully decided society was not worth participating in all-together.
Slowly, y/n practiced her text message before forcing herself to hit send. A rapid heartbeat cause the girl to down a bottle of water and look to the deep blue evening sky as she hoped that she'd get to feel better for atleast one night.
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Sarah was painting her last toenail when her phone screen lit up. On the surface was a speech bubble by an unsaved number that read, "This is Y/n L/n from school. I'd like to go to your party."
Sarah felt giddy by the politeness of the message; she felt deeply that this goody-goody mouse that always sat in the back of the class and away from everyone would be perfect to fulfill the end of her bargain that she owed to her horny brother.
Sarah texted Rafe not a second later with the picture she snuck of Y/n in class. "This is her. Tomorrow night." Sarah typed. A sigh of relief as she plopped down the phone but still a bundle of nervous in her stomach as she waited her brothers approval.
Three dots appeared under her own speech bubble. Sarahs eyes tried to see into her brothers mind for some peace but was elated at his response.
"Okay".
He liked Y/n (rather the potential that she held) and Sarah had felt she had done something right for once.
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Y/n was in a car with several other women she'd seen on campus a few times. Sarah had called her in the morning with an offer to have Y/n picked up by some other girls that were coming.
Y/n wasnt totally comfortable with idea but Sarah insisted.
When they reached Sarah's home; the large mansion was a beautiful sight to behold. And y/n had never felt smaller than she had now; but little did she know that the mysterious face in the upper window would force her to feel the smallest she's ever been in just a few hours.
Y/n had been instructed to carry in some of the girls bags; she agreed to be nice but not without noticing the mocking chuckles from the women slapping their flip flops into the house.
As she entered into the front room alone; y/n stopped to admire the beauty of the house. It was an elegance she had never seen in modern homes, realizing that the house was probably historic.
One of the bag feel from her overwhelmed arms and fell to the ground.
"Shit." Y/n said while trying to grab it but a hand reached out of nowhere and grabbed it from the ground.
She followed the hand to it's owner; a handsome young man with beautiful blue eyes and a strong jaw line greeted her with a half smile.
Y/n stared, not knowing what to say.
"You're welcome. Sarah's room is upstairs and I'll show you the way." The male said already heading up the stairs, silently expecting her to follow.
Y/n followed, unsure of what the next move should actually be.
The bags were thrown inside of Sarah's bedroom and the pair stood in silence.
"Are you special needs or what?" The male asked with impatient eyes.
Y/n shook her head, "No. Sorry I just....What's your name?" Y/n asked, still taken aback by the subtle beauty of the man before her.
The guy scoffed, "Rafe. Sarah's brother. I have my own apartment but I'm staying here for the holiday break." he said as he sounded offended Y/n didn't already know that.
"I'm Y/n....y/n" She said with a slight stutter; embarrassed that she, as a 22 year old woman was still nervous when talking to men, alone.
Rafe nodded and yawned. Without a word, he walked away and disappeared down the long corridor.
Y/n felt disappointed that she couldn't keep the conversation going but figured that it was all just a fluke. There was a big fire, food and loud music to have fun with and she'd try her best to blend in.
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1am, everyone was in Sarah's room. It'd been so long since Y/n had been surrounded by girls her age that she was willing to go with almost anything to feel good and wanted just this one night.
Sarah challenged this saying that Y/n's modest pajamas wouldn't do and that she needed something "Sexier" which y/n thought was weird (to be honest) but she wanted to fit in so Sarah handed her a pile of clothing and had Y/n change.
It was bittersweet. Not what she expected in either direction. It was a large t-shirt that went to her mid thighs (nothing but pebbled nipples and her underwear underneath) and a pair of long, shin length white socks. Uncomfortably, it reminded her of the socks her father would wear to work years ago.
When she emerged out of the bathroom, the women smiled. "You look adorable!" Sarah said while grabbing Y/n's shoulder.
Y/n had noticed just how cat-like Sarah was up-close. Suspicious eyes and lithe reflexes. "I was wondering could you go get us something? Sofia spilled her chips on the ground and I need a cloth to get it out of the carpet?"
Without thinking, Y/n nodded. All eyes in the room were on her. Sarah squeezed the womans' shoulders and said thank you.
"Turn left, down the hallway and a few doors. The last one at the end is the linen closet." Sarah said, turning her back to Y/n.
Y/n tip toed into the dark hallway; thinking about how embarrassing if any of Sarah's family saw a girl with no pants or bra on, rummaging through their personal property.
Y/n opened the door she thought was the closet but instead opened to Rafe, the young man from earlier, sitting at his desk, typing at the computer.
He glanced up from his work and saw Y/n standing there in the exact outfit he told Sarah to make her wear. God. He never imagined such a fantasy actually get to play out.
Go time.
Y/n face felt white hot as she and the eldest Cameron stared at each-other. "I'm sorry!" Y/n said, not knowing where to look or how to act.
"I thought this was the linen closet." Y/n said, about to close the door before Rafe answered.
He chuckled and stood from his desk, "It's alright. You're exactly where you need to be." He said closing in on the innocent woman.
Before she could comprehend what was happening, Rafe pulled Y/n in by the wrist and shut the door with a slam. Turning the lock in place.
In her head, Y/n asked what was going on but for whatever reason she stayed silent. But her mind screamed for her to run.
Rafe shook his head and walked toward the girl; like a lion stalking his next food. "You really don't think Sarah Cameron just invited you, a nobody, to hang out with her. Did you?" His eyes narrowed as his body glistened in the bit of moonlight showing through the window.
It didnt take a rocket scientist to put 2 + 2 together. More than ever, Y/n felt stupid. The realization that this may have been a prank dawned upon her.
"Now listen. This is gonna go one two ways. You either lay on your back and let me do whatever I want or I hold you down while I do what I want. You should feel grateful you're getting a choice at all." Rafe said, proudly but soft. His eyes were soft but his demeanor held an aura of temptation and daring. It was obvious that he liked 100% control regardless of his mates' feelings.
Y/n weighed her options. She knew she couldn't over power that tall, slender but muscular man before her. However she did have a voice and opened her mouth to scream.
Rafe slapped his hand against the girls mouth with a rough pat. "You can scream but they're not gonna help you. They know why you'll be screaming have been instructed to mind their fucking business. I'd save your voice anyway. Youll be screaming my name plenty soon enough." He said, a stern and scary look on his face.
Y/n backed up with Rafe forcefully pushing her forward until she fell on her back; she reached down to make sure her shirt was covering her intimate parts.
"Awww, look at you. You do know that's my shirt right? Its obviously too big for Sarah but I guess you were too stupid to figure that out before now." He said, looking ready to consume her whole at any given second.
As more things made sense, so did Y/n's fears. She rarely had courage so how she managed to say, "Please, don't do this...." In a choppy, emotion sentence was a step farther than she ever had taken.
Rafe thought how pitiful she looked with a line of tears ready to spill and that small voice that squeaked out delicate pleas. Something about her meekness made him feel powerful. He was in charge and he'd decide what happens to her. Though, for the first time in a long time, he felt his heart beat differently. Deeper.
Not a second later, he dove down, planting kisses on any visible surface of skin. From her neck to her thighs; she'd be marked in love bites. His marks. Y/n made a valiant effort to push Rafe off her person but he was much stronger than her. As is she didnt already know that.
"You're amusing but you're no match for me, cutie. Why don't you just lay there and take what I have to give you, hmm?" He said, tilting his chin up like a king looking down at a peasant.
A tear slid down y/n's cheek as Rafe abused her body. He roughly grabbed everywhere he could; he bit, kissed and chewed on anything he wanted. Y/n thought back to her parents and what they'd say if they saw her on her back, letting a strange man use her this way. They had instilled certain morals in her and to some degree she felt guilty not following those morals.
In a feat of conjured strength, Y/n bit down hard on the skin of Rafe's cheek. Her moment of people a defensive lioness what cut short with a hard slap, nearly punch, to the face by her assailant.
He was livid at the audacity she had to reject his love-making and slapped even harder the second time. She had wanted to bruise him so he was make sure he left his mark on her skin.
"You stupid fucking bitch!" He slapped a third time at the girl streamed tears down her face.
"I'm sorry! Please stop!" Y/n tried to squeak out but her soft voice drowned in the violence Rafe forcing on her.
"No no no, it's too late for that. I gave you the option for this to be gentle both ways but you had to fucking ruin it. You get no say now." Rafe pointed down at her before sucking on her neck twice as hard, like a vampire trying to draw blood.
Rafe grabbed y/n and spun her around ,onto her stomach and lifted the shirt over her ass. He took his time caressing and smoothing his hands over every acre of skin and over every curve like she was a piece of pottery. He moan and voiced awe while feeling her.
Still wanting to be let out, Y/n pleaded once more. "I'm sorry! I really am!! I promise I won't tell anyone about this and I'll never bother you or your sister again!" She cried.
Rafe shushed the girl, "You were chosen for me and I'm gonna take the opportunity to see if you're a good fit princess. Sarah doesn't matter in this coupling. It's about me and you. And you're going to let me, your master, figure you out." He said, sliding his finger around her folds like he'd touch a garden flower.
Sounds of despair came from Y/n in an effort to mask the little pleasure she was receiving from this violation.
Rafe was transfixed on her pink, plump skin. Every freckle, piece of hair and patch of discoloration made this artwork special. The tight feeling in his crotch telling him to hurry his admiration up. The lion wanted out of his cage; he's hungry.
Rafe smacked the girls bottom before unzipping and shedding his pants and boxers. Rafe felt the inside of y/n's shirt, enjoying the curve of her breast and plumpness of her nipples while his penis stood at attention.
"You're fucking beautiful. I hope it's alright that tonights mostly about me. We'll have a night for you soon but this first date is all about my dick getting to know the inside of you." Rafe said while using the tip to touch the delicate folds and skin.
He purposely spread the small bits of pre-cum on her intimate area as the first sign of marking before handling his shaft before the tip entered her cunt.
Rafe was struck with the feeling of heaven, not all the way in and yet his insides were purring away. He didn't want to wait anymore. He shoved forward without consideration for the girl underneath him. Fully sheathed inside, it was a five star stay at an exotic hotel where he'd be the only customer for the rest of his life.
"God, you feel so fucking good. Where have you been hiding princess?" Rafe asked, his large hand holding her down but his thumb gently rubbed her cheek before switching his movement to fully on.
In an aggressive thrust, Rafe began to move like a panther after his meal. There was no mercy in any movement. His heat, her slickness; his size, her submissiveness felt like they were one with human nature. For the first time, Rafe carnal desire was met with a romantic twist. The desire for a connection that meets both ways. He didn't know this woman; maybe she wasn't worth the effort.
But the way her pussy clenched around his dick made him think she was really meant to be him and he'd have to give Sarah props. This would be his girl, and if she behaved properly; a wife and mother.
But for right now, Rafe focused on fucking the shit out of her. He purposefully banged and hit as hard as he could. He wanted to see pain and pleasure. He grabbed her waist and brought her down to the base of his dick with little to no mercy. He wanted her fully with no space left unexplored by him.
The girls meek voice brought him back to reality, "Are you wearing a condom?" She asked, as if not wanting to upset him.
His eyes softened on the creature below him. She already had a small bruise forming under her eye where he'd harmed her. There was a sick pleasure in knowing that is his mark on her but he wasnt entirely a demon and felt some guilt.
Back on topic, no he wasnt wearing a condom; he didn't want to wear one with her. Rafe never had to deal with consequences because Ward would throw money at it, and it disappear.
Rafe didn't answer her; the panic added to feeling. He didn't owe her an answer. He decided he practically owned her now. Women in the past were just bodies; pleasure givers, holes at best. He always saw them as something to be conquered but with Y/n he wanted to own her; mind, body and soul.
Rafe sped up causing her to scream in both pleasure and pain. It only made Rafe feel hotter. Once he knew he had reached his limit, he bottomed out hard as he could; staying attached to the woman as long as he could before his size fell limp once more.
Looking down was a tearful girl trying to pick herself up after being violated. Before Rafe could do anything, she pushed him aside and fled the scene. Rafe looked after her but didnt follow, still feeling the blissful aftermath the coupling. No matter where she went, what she said or who she hid behind; Rafe would be there to claim her again.
This was a new game to him and he just casted the first dice.
*Note from author: sorry for this abomination. A mix of alcohol, horny and an actual desire to write something for the first time in almost a year hit and I didn't want to waste it*
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weebsinstash · 10 months
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Not gonna lie if I were the reader after they got replaced by YouTwo I would be a neurotic mess lmao. I already mental issues but I can't imagine going through their trauma on top of everything. I would definitely be scratching myself again out of sheer stress and anxiety about whether or not everybody will replace me again. My arms would look horrible. Oh boy imagine everybody's reaction to realizing they've messed up this badly and absolutely ruined the reader
Other people: fun ways we can write! Coffee shop au! Red string of fate! Hanahaki! Enemies to lovers!
me: what if I sat and tried to seriously and realistically contemplate the ramifications of a severely traumatic experience and the following neurotic habits that arise from the spiral down
Reader gets back to Spider Society, either glitching back in or "being rescued" whatever, and, you're just doing shit like digging food out of the trash "you'd never guess what kinds of perfectly good stuff people throw away, and it saves time to not have to wait for anything to be prepped! Never know when you'll vanish in the middle of a meal or that one serial killer will pop out at you again!! Ahaha!
Someone comes to check on you and you deadass have a fucking, tripwire web trap all around you, you're not even sleeping in a bed you're in your own webbing (because we rock organic webbing here because it fucks) so the second anything like, opens the door of your apartment or comes near you, you're instantly aware. Peter B comes in "heeeey, just wanna check in, make sure you're doing ok--" and there's fucking web wires rattling cans as he opens the front door and suddenly you're wide awake with an actual fucking knife or some kind of equally brutal survivalist weapon and it takes you a few seconds to fully snap out of it and let him calm you down and he has to tell Miguel You Are In Fact Not Doing Ok
You've got real "scaring all your loved ones and everyone around you" energy during those times you're just like going through some manic shit, opening your mouth and going on a sudden 'epiphany' like "i know what would help!! I'm gonna start cutting my face in really visible prominent places and that way you guys will know by the scar who I am :) and when it heals I'll cut myself again :) and again :) maybe I should just cut off a finger, how many of me do you think are missing fingers? Or maybe I could give myself a cool scar!!" And it's just like. What the fuck do they even say to that. A lot of them just genuinely could cry over this, seeing what this did to you. You sound genuinely cheerful at the realization and give no mind to how casually you just suggested self harm out of paranoia and self preservation.
You're just having like hard-core eating disorder issues going from overeating to undereating, binging because you're suffer9ng trauma from starving and then starving yourself "no its fasting, I'm FASTING to save food and money and resources, ok, I can only fit so much in my backpack and--"
You have this backpack from your multiversal glitching travels and keeping it with you basically 24/7 even when you go to the bathroom becomes a comfort habit, because, "never know when your camp has been found by the runners and you've gotta make a break for it" or some other cryptic memory you babble at them like you're discussing coffee when it could be one of the most vile horrifying things they've ever heard
I think the most interesting but tricky thing I've thought of is, what if Reader's trauma-humor coping mechanism gets dialed up to 11 and you can basically never turn it off because, your brain is protecting yourself. It's like you're Doing A Bit but literally all the time like some traumatized method actor and you're just, they're never sure if you're actually telling the truth or actually recounting things you experienced after a while
"Oh man the last time I ate a meal this big was when I finally stopped glitching and I had to break into someone's house and rob them for food! Just call me Santa Claus! But this Earth had suffered a nuclear fallout so all they had was like, DRY CRACKERS and, a lotta canned stuff, icky, and, I was in the middle of trying to pry a tin of lil cocktail weenies open with my teeth when the irradiated house centipedes smelled my blood, just imagine like a normal centipede but, like, the size of a Shetland pony, hey, friendship really IS magic right, and me and these centipedes got SO close, so anyways they smelled my blood, right, and it made them hungry, and--" and here you got like The Entire Squad speechless, Hobies just over here like "fuck, I don't even know what to say to that, you want some ketamine bruv" and yall just hit em with "nah last time I tried ketamine I had a fever dream of being replaced by an evil clone and I was shunned by all my close friends who i thought of like family. Oh wait, that was you guys! That's awkward!"
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frozenjokes · 27 days
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literally did not have room for his civillian alter ego ‘Micah’ so I’m just gonna describe him. Micah looks somewhat similar though he has more visible scars, darker, longer hair with a few gray streaks (often pulled back in a tiny ponytail), and generally looks a bit older. In the fic Grian mistakes him and HotGuy for brothers, though does not suspect anything otherwise because Micah is a complete freak in ways that are not the same as HotGuy. Micah also has to pretend not to be disabled, something very stressful given his legs and parts of his back are very Gone. (replaced by realistic looking prosthetics, and a lot of very unethical genetic experimentation, but look close enough and it’s relatively clear something is up.) Micah only tends to go out at night for this reason.
fic has shipping (cubscar, grub, eventually cubscarian) but if you’re interested here is the link. Most fics can be read without context of the others, so if you’re only interested in specific ships or characters then there is also that. here’s your food
As for backstory, Scar comes from a very wealthy family and was happily setting off to go to college in the big city when at the ripe age of 18, a bomb went off on campus, killing and injuring several students, including him. In an effort to save Scar’s life, his parents had his take part in several extremely unethical and extremely experimental procedures that lasted the course of years, altering the make-up of his body to such extremes that he is extraordinarily physically sturdy, and while he gets injured similarly to how normal people do, he remains unaffected by the damage, only needing to be stitched back together by doctors before he’s back in working order. It’s difficult for him to feel most physical sensations, and he longs to be close to people he doesn’t feel threatened by.
His venture into the work of a superhero was spurred on by a strong desire to prevent the things that happened to him from happening to others, and because of the circumstances of his disability and past, as well as his charisma and confidence, he ended up becoming famous relatively quickly, and has been working as a superhero ever since.
In a world of fantastical humanoid species where your only power is Not Easy To Kill, HotGuy doesn’t exceed at his job, but he does damn well for himself most of the time, and is an excellent entertainer. He often latches on to certain people and villains, dreaming of different approaches to improve lives and make the world he lives in just a tad less shitty.
btw if you have any questions or asked me anything about this au whether you’ve read the fic or not it would make my day <3 I love to talk about my ocs goodtimeswithscar, cubfan135, and grian
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griffinguy24 · 5 months
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Not sure if you’ve answered this so if you have, my bad but how would bonding work if ibara was for blackwhip, setsuna for danger sense, and kinoko/camie for smokescreen. Btw love your fics
Glad you enjoy my work!
Cool, might as well give this a shot (he said, hoping the floodgates don't open and swallow him up).
Reminder for the uninitiated, in 849, a third stage Bond between Izuku and one of his significant others results in the girl involved getting 1% of One for All, and the following enhancements happen... 1: One for All empowers the girl's original Quirk. 2: The associated past user of One for All's Quirk enhances the girl's Quirk, or is ported over in its entirety 3: The girl's Quirk enhances Izuku's use of the past user's Quirk
Ibara Shiozaki, via Blackwhip. Not something that was ever in the running. I didn't expect her to be cool with a polycule and the Tsuyu-Banjou connection (Blackwhip - Froppy Style!) was one of the sparks that caused me to come up with 849 to begin with. Still, it's a fun concept. In that case...
1: Shiozaki's vines get stronger, tougher, and grow faster. I'd also say that they can tasty fruits with healing properties. 2: Blackwhip's influence allows her to grow vines all over her body, not just from her head, though those wither more quickly. She can also protect her vines with Blackwhip's energy. 3: Izuku's Blackwhips can grow sharp thorns, causing much more damage when used as a weapon.
Setsuna Tokage was originally one of the candidates for the Second User's bond, and in a prior post, I offered her options as that Bond. And the Mei-Hikage connection was one of the four I started out with. But Lizard Tail Splitter has a huge sensory component, given that she can sense through her split pieces. So... 1: OfA would increase the range that Setsuna can split her body parts, alongside hyper charging her regeneration to nearly the same levels as the Nomu’s Super Regeneration. 2: Danger Sense would port over in its entirety. It's an easy Quirk to add to someone. Setsuna's own Quirk would allow her to sense Danger through any part of her. 3: Izuku could, essentially, "tag" a person, place, or thing with Danger Sense and be able to know whenever danger struck it. He'd start with a restrictive distance and number of times he can split his attention this way, but it'd increase with practice.
Camie Utsushimi, the Shiketsu student that Toga hijacked and replaced. She's very popular among a number of people I know, I wonder why? (my money's on the skintight bodysuit) Anyway, since I couldn't organically introduce her quickly, and I didn't want to drag out the bonds forming for too long, as I prefer relationships forming and growing between people rather than contriving reasons for characters to not start dating. So, she wasn't realistically on the table. But if I had chosen her...
1: One For All upgrades Glamour in two key ways. First she can produce enough mist that she can condense it to make her illusions solid, though they can still be broken with enough force, or blown away. Second, if someone inhales her Glamour, she can make them hallucinate in addition to her illusions. (blatantly copied from DeusVerve's Mirage AU) 2: Smokescreen gets ported over in its entirety, and can be used as a medium for Camie's Glamour. 3: Izuku can easily shape his smoke to make it appear as if they were objects. In one chapter of 849, I had Izuku create a crude Smokescreen-duplicate of himself that he used as a sparring partner, using Toru's light manipulation to make it look like several blobs of paint in a vaguely Izuku-shape. In this case, Izuku could make a perfect Smokescreen duplicate no problem.
Kinoko Komori, the mushroom girl. She's adorable, somewhat shy at first, but utterly powerful and, as the meme goes, you cannot kill her in a way that matters. If I didn't love Hagakure's peppy nature so much she could have been a candidate for the bond with En. And if she did...
1: Did you see how powerful her mushroom spore Quirk was in canon?! And you want to juice it with OfA?! Game over, man, game over! I took an ecology class taught by a mycologist in undergrad, and dear god are fungi some of the most insane organisms on the planet! What will we get? Fireproof mushrooms? Ability to grow no matter the light or humidity? Re-enact The Last of Us? I don't know, and I don't really want to. 2: Oh fuck, a mushroom's main weakness is sensitivity to light and you want to add Smokescreen to make it go away? Do you want to hasten your inevitable decay? Because Smokescreen WILL be ported as is, and it would contain all of Kinoko's spores. If the Smokescreen contains humidity as well, villains might as well just skip the middleman and arrest themselves to save themselves time and agony! 3: I suppose I'd make it so that Izuku's Smokescreen could drain the vitality of people trapped inside it, or perhaps clump together to impede people's movements. But that paltry power is nothing compared to the goddess of death that he just unleashed upon the world. Be grateful that I didn't add Komori to the polycule in this fic. It would've been all over but the shouting the second her bond formed.
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angelonasher · 9 months
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i have an au (another one)
How do people talk about au's they have?
Usually they do it with little art things but art and me aren't cooperating very well- and im also not very good at visualizing details so making visual designs for stuff is kind of very hard for me ;-;
So yeah au its actually the most details for an au ive ever thought of in a short amount of time- i dont know what to name it so giving the general plot and hoping ya'll have some ideas?
Ofc my brain suddenly doesn't know how to explain things okay here you go:
worldbuilding:
So in the general ~world~ there are two "types" of technology, dark tech and clean tech. Dark tech has been banned by the government(s) for various reasons (oh its bad and people can make nukes oh oh evil ai oH the unethical experiments with it that totally weren't done by us oOh DaRk its clearly evil), and while clean tech has a more pristine futuristic vibe, dark tech in much more advanced
Redstone is considered a branch of dark tech, and whether or not its banned/what regulations it has varies from place to place
(The visual vibe of dark tech im not sure how to describe, but this entire au was inspired by the thumbnail of doc's robot battle video so uhm i guess kind of the vibe of the butterfly. It's like. A weird mix of cyberpunk and steampunk, if that makes any sense.)
Some people weren't too happy about the ban, considering many were: sentient/sapient androids and ai's; cyborgs; bionic people with cybernetics that either were essential to their life, would kill them upon removal, or greatly improved their quality of life; organic cyborgs (the term for hybrids such as golems, blazes, etc), or had their entire career on science/tech
So they ran way and made their own city. which, don't get me wrong, is a giant city. lots of connections with other dark-tech places. it definitely has a name. for sure. yeep.
It's made in this mountain where there was a giant crack inside, with houses underground, above ground, in the walls of the crack/cliff-face, above the mountain, and in the sky/towers way above the mountain
The government isn't too happy about this city's existence but because of *ahem* certain people who live there, they leave the place alone.
very summarized plot thing:
Every ten to thirty (haven't decided exactly when) years the [dark-tech city] hosts a competition of skill in technology. robotics, computers, cybernetics, weaponry, the works.
The exact details of the competition differ every time, the details of previous competitions kept vague. but everyone knows you gotta be good with tech to win, and you have to impress the judges with your inventions just to have a chance at competing.
The prize?
No one really knows. but it’s- something. something great. Resources and knowledge and equipment and something that’ll let the winner(s) achieve whatever dreams they may have in that little noggin of their's.
And its coming up soon.
Get creating :)
characters :D :
aka the people who i have a vague idea of their role/personality in this au for. 
“Name they go by” (real name/ what their friends call them) [no paranthesis if they don’t have a fake name]
Grian (unknown): 
An infamous name in the undergrounds, known for his skill in robotics. Never seen in person; appearance and species unknown. He’s rumored to have won the [technology competition] once before, but is entering again.
Npg: 
A little guy who works around Grian’s shop. He’s a sentient android made by his name-sake. His movements are a bit wonky, and he tends to have a goal-driven one-track robotic mindset, but his voice is pretty emotive and he even has synthetic skin!
RG (Robot Grian): 
The latest of Grian’s sentient creations, he has transparent casing to show off his components! His voice is- lacking, but he makes up for it with his realistic movements, “brain,” and expressions. He runs Grian’s shop and tends to be a replacement for the guy whenever he’s wanted/needed in person. He’s a bit more- sarcastic, then Npg.
TV (Impulse):
A prototype cyborg who has a penchant for dark tech. Having a sentient AI living in his head makes him a bit strange, but he’s just a nice guy! His eyes being yellow lets you know he’s the one in control. He’s entering the competition with the hope of being able to build a separate robot body for Skizz.
Skizz:
The sentient AI living in Impulse’s head, technically a cyborg. Look, he didn’t want to be here either. Or sapient. But he is, so he might as well be Impulse’s friend while following his programmed objective of keeping the guy alive. He can communicate through either his screen (that usually displays their left eye), Impulse’s voice, or the speaker on the side of their head. Blue eyes means he’s the one in control.
Tek (Tango):
Little gremlin tech man doing little gremlin tech man things. He’s a cats-folk*, of the that-cat-is-a-spawn-of-hell type. (And he’s proud of it.) He’s best friends with Impulse, Skizz, and Zedaph and is competing as a team with them for the same goal. He’s technically better at robotics than Impulse, but he’d never admit it.
*cats-folk are a strange hybrid mix of feline and some aquatic fish creature. They sometimes contain organic-cyborg features.
Zedaph:
Science man doing sciencey things. Skilled in robotics, redstone, and even code, Zedaph is a close friend of Impulse, Skizz, and Tango. He’s not officially in the competition, but he is helping out when he can. [I wish I had a longer description for him but he’s not that developed yet. Btw this is your sign to go watch Zedaph he’s criminally underrated and his style of videos is unique.]
K. Jumbo (Mumbo):
A newer name in the dark tech business, a mustache man building robots. He’s somehow nailed down making the sentient AI part and mass weapons of destruction, but he’s not that great at actually building the body, and tends to buy parts and instructions from Grian’s shop. He originally joined the competition as a chance to make a name for himself, but has since then teamed up with Scar.
Scar:
Strange man with his strange cat. A bionic human with a penchant for strangely wholesome violence. He’s mastered using and making mechanical crossbows and guns. He doesn’t know a lick of redstone but is pretty skilled at robotics. He joined the competition in hope to find more options for replacing his cyberntic parts, and has since then teamed up with Jumbo. No one knows if Scar is his real name.
Grumbot:
The first sentient AI Mumbo ever (accidentally) made, he lives inside of a communicator. Originally supposed to be a randomized option picker, he enjoys roleplaying, which is something Mumbo still has no idea how it got into his programing. He’s basically Mumbo’s son.
Jrumbot:
The second sentient AI Mumbo ever (accidentally) made. He needs to stop doing that. Also his son.
Sparrow (Owen):
An un-finished prototype cyborg unwillingly a cyborg, skilled in robotics. He has a bit of amnesia, so he can’t actually remember how he became half-robot, but he knows it sucks, given the control the programming has over what he does vs what he actually wants to do. He joined the competition in hope of finding some way to fix himself. (It seems the program is becoming somewhat sapient. That’s bad, right?)
Smajor (Scott):
Owen’s roommate and best (only lol) friend, he has a basic knowledge in robotics/cybernetics. [I haven’t decided what he is but I know he’s not human. Sorry Scott I don’t have more to say about you yet 😞]
Docm77 (Doc):
Creeper-goat-cyborg man. Also part butterfly but that’s (almost) all robotics baybe B) He’s another famous name in the tech space, even more so than Grian. He specializes less in sentient creations and more in world-breaking and physic-denying inventions. He’s intimidating in reputation and appearance but actually a really chill guy who enjoys gardening. Joined the competition because why not, he already has all the supplies he needs. (He may or may not be one of the reasons the government leaves them alone. He is on several watchlists.)
RK (Ren):
Ren-diggity-dog, it’s your local bionic hybrid. He’s part canine but also has a bit of sniffer origin in him. He’s also the owner of the only sniffers in [dark-tech city]. Extinct six-legged creatures are hard to get your hands on, y’know? He’s in the competition on Doc’s team, and although it's somtimes hard to believe, he does have a decent knowledge in robots, specifically cybernetics.
Slabs (Etho):
A famous name in the tech space, the bionic zombie-hybrid that’s actually pretty chill. He’s skilled in robotics, making weapons, and using them. He’s not officially on Doc’s team, but he does help out. He has won before. (He’s not running away from the responsibility of fatherhood if he’s technically their adoptive uncle, stop lying.)
Bdubs:
Loud short teen who sometimes hangs out with the cool redstoner guys. He’s Etho’s sister’s son, not Etho’s. Not at all. It’s just his personality that makes him call him Etho dad. His past-times include sleeping at a very specific time every night, becoming a spawn of hell if his sleep schedule is disturbed, bother watch people doing tech stuff, and brag about his older brother Scar, his mom Cleo,* and his mom’s friends.
*If it's unclear; Cleo and Etho are siblings. Cleo adopted Scar and Bdubs from the streets, who are siblings, and since Etho was living with Cleo at the time, he kind of became their dad, even though he’s technically their uncle. Etho left to live with the cool tech guys in their cool tech tower, and Scar (being an adult) left on his own but often visits Cleo and Bdubs. Bdubs lives with Cleo, but he sometimes hangs out with the cool tech guys in their cool tech tower too.
Martyn:
Funky little dude Ren found hiding in a box somewhere. Not sure how he got up the insanely tall tower, but Ren decided to adopt the guy into the found family jazz they got going on. He’s a bit traumatized, but that’s nothing some good ol’ friendship can’t fix. He’s some sort of bug thing. Cool wings, though.
Cleo:
With zombie genes much more present than her brother’s, Cleo has a name for herself as an amazing seamstress and armor-stand artist. (Armor-stand is a type of robotics art that I just made up.) She somehow deals with her two chaotic sons and her younger brother who still comes to her whenever he needs help. (So much for him being independent.)
Gemini (Gem):
Gem, also known as GeminiSlay, is a bit famous for her fighting skills. Oops. An anterled folk and Cleo’s and Lizzie’s roommate, Gem enjoys picking on Cleo’s brother and consistently beating him in the fighting realm to make sure his ego doesn’t grow too big. Unfortunately, her good heart has her taking pity on the poor souls that are Joel and Jimmy whenever Lizzie is unavailable. (Absolute beggars, those two.)
Shadow Lady (Lizzie):
A curious cats-folk that rooms with Gem and Cleo, Lizzie has the unfortunate fate of knowing Joel and Jimmy. Seeing as she’s one of the very few people that knows them in good relations and Gem only tolerates them half the time, Lizzie usually keeps them from killing themselves, and helps with the inevitable backlash of them doing the stupid thing she told them not to do.
Joel:
Better at what he does than his over-confidence would seem, Joel likes guns. He likes shooting them even more, so he does that. He gets in trouble for stealing and/or destroying stuff, gets Jimmy in trouble because he dragged him into it, and then goes begging to Lizzie for help. It’s a relentless cycle, but he does it, because he’s good at it. And he also gets paid for it. He somehow keeps on meeting tech-people.
Jimmy:
Helps Joel with his heists because Joel claims they’re related somehow and therefore he has to. He can be a bit un-confident or over-confident at times but has a geniunely good aim with guns and mechanical-crossbows. And bombs. Joel’s not allowed to use bombs anymore so he makes Jimmy do it, and then throws a bunch himself. He somehow keeps on meeting the tech people Joel meets.
and uhm i think thats it?
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lemonhemlock · 3 months
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Hiiii lemon 👋🏻
I was trying to make an oc for Cersei and Jamie and talked about it with a couple friends to bounce ideas with and they all had the same thing to say "you really think Cersei would love someone!? she literally killed Melara for daydreaming about Jamie..." And this kinda made me a bit...
Anywayyyyy personally I think yes Cersei can be delusional, heartless... But that's part of her charm !!! And really people would not be as harsh on her if she was a man.
Like imagine a boy killing his bestie over liking his sister/lover... People would call that a romantic gesture lol.
Which is why I'm here to ask what would you personally do if you were making Cersei/Jamie a female love interest.
Hi, anon! There's quite a lot to unpack in your message. Cersei and Jaime could have the potential to love other people. But certainly their insular upbringing and dysfunctional family made them overly reliant on each other to the point of co-dependency. So I think that if you want to create realistic OCs for them, you should give them traits that tend to their greatest needs or inadequacies.
For Cersei, it's perhaps more easily identifiable the kind of husband who could make her happy - it's basically who she imagines Rhaegar to be. A noble, handsome, gallant young man who would be devoted to her, treat her kindly and involve her in his daily political dealings. Both Cersei and Jaime struggle with gender roles. Cersei wants to be considered a leader and valued for something other than her reproductive abilities, she wants to be respected and not discarded the replaced the minute her body becomes "irrelevant". So power-sharing with a husband who values her personhood and intelligence would help to heal her accumulated trauma. What Cersei yearns for in a partner is not so different than what any woman would wish for herself.
With Jaime, it's more complicated, because you somehow how to prevent him from joining the Kingsguard. Because 1. he would not be able to have a functional relationship when his vows are in direct contradiction and 2. if Cersei is still Queen somehow in this AU, he'd only be miserably sniffing around her skirts, entangling himself in her business, getting inevitably jealous and miserable and keeping her from taking her marriage seriously. Other than that, Jaime has no true interest in politics and he bores easily, so an ideal wife for him would be one with good social and administrative skills, who could handle the tasks Jaime would consider tedious in his position as (eventual) ruler of Casterly Rock. He also has a quick with and is quite funny, so I think he couldn't be truly content if his wife didn't share those qualities. So, IDK, some combination between Sansa and Aunt Genna. :))
Ultimately, I think they could really only reach a true level of contentment if their spouses help them fulfill their societal roles. They're too entrenched in their identities as Lannisters to ever run off to the Free Cities and do whatever and too comfortable to renounce all privileges and live the lives of regular peasants or merchants. Feudalism offers few opportunities that provide safety and comfort; they can't exactly became finance bros or get a job at the business factory to support themselves or engage in some other bullshit activity that's little work and high reward, so staying in the socio-economic sphere of their rich family is their best bet.
Cersei has this fantasy of swords and mail, but she wouldn't have been happy as a knight, with the pushback that comes with true non-conformity. Equally, Jaimie already did what he wanted and eschewed his role as heir, but life as a perpetual knight doesn't seem to bring him satisfaction either. They're not revolutionaries out to dismantle the status-quo and campaign for change, but, in the absence of that, society is not going to just simply accommodate their idiosyncrasies just because it's them. And they don't really like it either when they find out the world doesn't bend around their wishes! (affectionate)
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skaylanphear · 1 year
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Miraculous Future/Sentimonster Adrien AU
So once upon a time I had a Miraculous Future AU that I don’t think I ever talked about? But here it is! I think I’m going to tie it up with my Sentimonster Adrien AU. 
Trigger warnings for references to self-harm and attempted suicide. 
Basically, Adrien and Mari finally defeat Monarch Hawkmoth, and like in the fic I wrote called “Monster” (you can read it on AO3), he explains the reason why he and Emilie created Sentimonster Adrien, only I’ll tie in the rings and Felix and all that. EXCEPT that instead of Mari going up to find Adrien like in the fic, she never finds out that Adrien and Chat Noir are the same person. 
Therefore, Adrien is having to deal with the fact that his father is Hawkmoth and that his mother used the peacock to create him as a replacement for their first dead child. A lot to handle. So Gabe is arrested and put to trial, gets life in prison. Except he’s still infected with Chat’s cataclysm, so he dies, like, a year later. Meanwhile, Adrien has distanced himself from everyone due to the backlash of his father being Hawkmoth. That, and he’s dealing with his own personal demons as a result of being a sentimonster. He leaves Paris, severing contact with everyone out of shame and guilt and general self-loathing (what a happy AU this is). Then, say, two or three years later, Nathalie dies as well, because she’s sick from the peacock still, and so he loses her too. Just one shitty thing after another, because I like to torture the sunshine boy. 
So anyway, this all happens in, like, the first two chapters. However, on Marinette’s side, once the trial for Hawkmoth is done, she and Chat can finally reveal themselves to one another, which is something she actually wants to do now that we’re updated through what’s released of season 5. She and Chat have agreed to meet up or something, but when she goes, he never comes. AND she never sees Chat again after that. Adrien is too ashamed and heartbroken over everything that’s happened that his self-worth is in the dumps, and he’s pretty much convinced himself that he’s better off just... disappearing entirely. Ladybug doesn’t need him and his family drama around--she deserves better. So does Marinette, for that matter. 
SO THEN WE HAVE A TIMESKIP! Like, ten years or something. 
Marinette is the guardian again, only she doesn’t have Plagg or Duusu. She has no idea where either of these miraculouses are, and seeing as there’s been no disturbances caused by them, she’s never had any leads as far as looking. Part of her is betrayed by Chat’s abandonment of her, while another part of her fears the worst. They weren’t able to share their identities, so it’s just as Chat has once feared--that something may have happened to one of them and the other wouldn’t know. Of course, there’s nothing she can do about it, so she just... lives on. 
Mari doesn’t really “work” in fashion at this point. She still does it in her spare time, but I’m going to take a realistic approach and assume she’s still working toward that goal. As her day job, she’s a nurse or some kind of healthcare professional. I feel like that fits her personality and it fits the story too. She doesn’t keep in touch with everyone from their school days, mostly only Luka, Alya, and Nino (Alya and Nino are married?) Why hasn’t Luka told her who Chat is so she can find him? Well, she doesn’t know that Luka knows she was Ladybug, and he probably assumes they decided not to tell each other or something--he’s not one to pry. Anyway, so she lives in a flat in the city somewhere with all the kwamis and is leading an ordinary life. 
UNTIL Plagg suddenly shows up? That’s how I’ve always imagined it, tho I’ve entertained some other ideas. BUT FOR NOW, Plagg shows up and Mari is shocked to see him, obviously. But he’s anxious and goes on about how he needs her help, that he fears his holder is in trouble--that he might hurt himself (again). 
Adrien’s life has not gone... super great, obviously. He abandoned all his friends, the lawsuit against his father stripped him of any money, as the Agreste wealth was used to pay victims/damages. The only family he has is Felix and Amalie, whom he doesn’t have much to do with (I think? I’m not sure how big a role in this Felix will play, but I feel like he could be useful, as he’s also a “sentimonster?”). He’s been out of the public eye for a long time, and, to add to it all, he once tried to destroy his own ring--at a very low point--but it didn’t work. Instead, he very badly injured himself. He’s now disabled, being paralyzed from the waist down. He’s had a hard time, to say the least, and is in a very bad place mentally when Plagg breaks his word--as Adrien had previously made him promise never to tell Ladybug who he was--and goes to find Marinette. He doesn’t “tell her” who Chat is, but he does bring her to him. 
This starts a whole hurt/comfort thing where they both learn to deal with their problems and accept what has happened together. Very angsty, but I guess that’s what I’m in the mood for. Adrien is kind of a jerk, because he CAN be a jerk in canon when he’s upset, and Mari is distrustful and defensive. They have a lot to work through and, I dunno, I like a good angst-fest. 
Anyway, who knows if I’ll write this, tho I am thinking about it. I do like to be mean to the children.  
SEE YA!
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insaneiceshard · 7 months
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Pokemon Pixel Font(Black & White 2)
BOY YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THE DAY I'VE HAD!
Alright first things first here's the font I made, you'll understand why it's here later! PLEASE shoot me a message if the link doesn't work, that last thing I'd want is a dead end for a poor artist.
RIGHT, so I've been working on a Rain world AU where all the RW characters are placed in the Pokémon universe. I've already drawn Rivulet's sprite but I wanted to put them on a game's UI just to make it look realistic. I looked online and Pokémon B&W2 looked the best and I can make animations for the slugcats as well! When I downloaded the UI and got to work replacing all the text, I realized something very unfortunate.
Pixel fonts fucking SUCK.
Every single fuckin one gets labelled as "8-bit" or "meant for pixel art!" BUT THEY'RE ALL LYING TO YOU.
I haven't scoured the internet but the most popular ones look nice, but as soon as you scale them down to anything below 12 pixels they look like absolute dog-shit. This isn't horrible, for most people 12 pixels is enough! but when you're trying to replicate a game's Ui...
I tried adjusting the alphas in Krita, applying the text in Paint, scaling the image and then applying the text. NOTHING worked. The core issue was that Pokemon B&W2 had it's own custom font and nothing I could make would look anywhere close as good.
At this point my autism got activated (if it hadn't been already) and I had the brilliant (downright shit-brained) idea. It would just be easier if I made the font myself.
Good god I wish I had just looks a bit harder. I still have no idea if someone has done what I have, and I'm still too lazy to look!
I made the font. I scoured for tons of screenshots from dozens of websites to replicate every single character down to the pixel. I kept having issues where my font heights where constantly getting bigger and smaller. Spaces that used to be 3x3 were 4x3 when I looked back. I chocked this up to my disabled ass not being able to count 9 pixels. 10 pixels, no- now its fuckin 8.
I need you to know that at this point I had been working on this for 4 hours. 4 hours of squares and numbers. My brain was reduced to fucking mush. And then Gamefreak took the mush, put it in a blender, and fed it TO THE FUCKIN VOID SEA.
Different consoles used separate fonts. You can tell because the UI's are different everywhere the characters are sightly shorter. This makes sense, If you have a smaller screen, reducing the font size by a pixel could save you some valuable space! But at this point it had already done it's damage on me. I'm not proud of it but I cried. I have no idea which characters had been effected because I used so many different references that I just gave up. On top of all this, the games have something weird going on with the shaded parts of the text and the only way I could somewhat replicate it was to use 3 different text layers.
So. To anyone out there who specifically needs the Pokémon B&W2 font, you have it now. It's not perfect, but it'll do.
I hope no one has to go through what I did.
Ever.
oh- and here's what the final product looks like.
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hauntedfalcon · 7 months
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(MORE candela dark materials stuff)
draven kingsley's daemon is (was) an argentine black and white tegu. the aesthetics of it are too perfect otherwise. also: What Happens To Daemons Exposed To Bleed... the shapeshifting creatures impersonate people, and surely to do that successfully in this setting they would need to mimic daemons - or maybe the lack of one would be a sign that someone's been replaced?
also. auntie bee and her daemon The Most Stubborn And Judgemental Goat To Ever Exist. this goat has caught sean and marion getting into trouble as children So Many Times and has Never Even Once cut them any slack about it. they can't reminisce about their childhoods for two minutes without The Goat going "hey remember when you got yourself concussed because you did some stupid shit and then Did Not Learn Your Lesson?" it 100% also pretends to just be regular goat sometimes, in much the same way that bee plays up her "just a frail old lady nothing to see here" thing when she's Up To Mischief. everyone is a little bit terrified of this very powerful goat.
also... the implication that, potentially, jinnah's dad was the one to sever jean and marion's daemons? because there was something Wrong with their daemons maybe?? (that maybe their daemons "died" but they themselves didn't, and they were stuck bound to this corpse that wouldn't fade away until it had to be severed from them like a rotten limb??) or that it happened somehow without anyone actively doing it - marion waking up from sleepwalking at the age of seven, suddenly unable to find his daemon anywhere?? (he wanted to be normal so bad, would that manifest as attempts to hide that he doesn't have a daemon? feeding stray animals, trying to coax them close to him so that if someone were to glance over they'd assume he still had his soul? jean looking at those display cases of pinned beetles and arachnids and Feeling about it??)
for some reason I'm picturing nathaniel's dad as having a straight-up horse daemon and I can't put it out of my mind. A Full Very Big Horse that you cannot move more than like ten feet away from at any given time. you go into a room and see a well-dressed man and A Horse. and the horse is a right bastard, too. terrible company.
for sean's mum, I'm imagining a fox, and I don't know why. something something foxes are clever city-dwelling animals that hide in burrows and are hunted down by dogs??
anyway; I know Almost Nothing about his dark materials, certainly not enough to actually write anything myself, but oh boy the brainwheels are a-turnin' about how fucked up this au could potentially get
oooohoohoo my god hell yes. what if the bleed creatures manifest fake daemons as just like. a growth or a tendril forming that shape beside them. horrifying. especially horrifying in a world where everyone is used to daemons because they would gradually get the creeping sensation that no matter how realistic they seem, there’s no soul in there
have you listened to the Worlds Beyond Number children’s campaign? because Bee’s goat is giving big Taro vibes and I’m here for it
absolutely HATE the idea of seven year old kids carrying around their dying or dead daemons, you genius, that’s so devastating. Marion with a canary in his hands that keeps fluttering and turning into a yellow butterfly and back but can’t. work up the strength to fly. I believe in you, make this AU even more fucked up than that, I dare you
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everlasting-elegy · 2 years
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Hello, this is my first time asking something and I just can say that I love so much your swapped! AU, maybe if your req is open, could you do the reaction of the brothers (of the swapped! AU) to the Replaced! AU? please
The last days I was reading a lot of this on tumblr, and I'm just want to know how the brothers would react to this.
It's okey if you can't do it, btw I love so much your works ^^
I'm sorry if there is a grammatical mistake, my main language is Spanish and I am still learning English, so I'm using google
Please don't apologise for your English, I understand you perfectly!! I'm also incredibly honoured to be your first ask, I hope you enjoy your time here 😊 A few people have requested it so here are just some quickfire headcanons on it~
Swapped!AU: Brothers React to the Replaced AU
In a world where the brothers are players of Obey Me! and you’re their favourite character, how would they react to the Replaced AU, a fanfiction trope where you turn against them in favour of someone else? Genre: Fluff, Angst (?) Word Count: 1.1k
Asmodeus
It may come as a surprise but Asmodeus is the most devastated out of all the brothers by this trope. It’s not obvious, he’d laugh it off but as someone who strives for validation - and you being the one he fell in love with - he can’t handle the thought of you turning against him
He tried to read it once though and curiosity killed the cat. He cried throughout the entire ordeal and changed tabs to read nothing but fluff for the next hour, unable to even finish the fic
If the fanfic has you insulting his appearance or that he's boring to be around, he'll be absolutely destroyed
Regrets ever reading it and never will touch the Replaced AU again. He’s embarrassed by how much a popular fanfic genre has sullied his mood but he will be pouty for the rest of the week and spending even more time than usual for self care
Beelzebub
Doesn’t like it at all, he simply has too much faith in you. It doesn’t make sense, you’ve spent so much time bonding and supporting the protagonist throughout the game, how could you suddenly change?
He tried reading it out of sheer curiosity but was quick to drop it when it didn’t pique his interest. No matter how justified or explained your sudden change in personality is, he still feels it’s unrealistic
This 'new' side of you isn't fun at all and it genuinely hurts him you being so hostile. He might have crushed his phone again just out of the urge to hug you
Is genuinely shocked at how popular the Replaced AU is but to each their own. He’d much rather go off playing the game or reading some fluff fanfics and that’s exactly what he does
Belphegor
Belphegor acts nonchalant about it. He isn’t fond of the trope (it’s a dating game, so why are people writing stuff where the love interests hate them?) but if a fanfiction is entertaining and well written he might as well give it a try
He finds it amusing at times. Like his twin, he doesn’t believe the trope is realistic since your good nature has been shown throughout the game, so it’s honestly no harm done by reading it
Actually enjoys the darker endings. He loves when the protagonist just chooses chaos and wreaks havoc on everyone in revenge for the pain they've felt
He has no preference for or against the Replaced AU in theory but started to avoid it when he had some unpleasant dreams of it. It’s inconvenient being woken up by it so he usually reads other fanfics instead
Leviathan
Despite knowing what the Replaced AU was all about and how much he didn’t like the thought of it, he read it. He wouldn’t be a true (Y/N) fan if he couldn’t handle some measly words!!
The first time he read it, he truly couldn’t handle it, it sent him down a spiral of his typical self-deprecating thoughts. Of course you’d hate him, he’s just a yucky otaku and now somehow the fanfiction community realised that-
Oddly enough, he finds himself coming back to read the trope. Maybe a poor part of him finds it the most realistic fanfiction out there for him, maybe he enjoys seeing you be envious of other characters interacting with the protagonist, seeing you pine for him like he pines for you
Luckily he only picks up the renditions of the Replaced AU that have a happy ending. Still, after finishing a Replaced AU fic he comes back to the actual game so he can see you smiling and appreciating him
Lucifer
Lucifer actually finds it amusing and entertaining. He rarely has time to read fanfiction but the Replaced AU became a bit of a guilty pleasure for him
Despite the protagonist being mistreated, he feels smug at the protagonist being morally right against all the unfair judgement, like a martyr of sorts as they still commit selfless acts. It boosts his pride
He finds it entertaining because Lucifer is excellent at compartmentalising. The you in the Replaced AU simply isn’t the one who greets him in the game, he’s able to appreciate the two separately
Another guilty pleasure aspect is when the Replaced AU ends in a power fantasy where the protagonist snaps and rules over all. He’d rather it just end with the protagonist being with you but this is a good alternative
Mammon
Mammon typically steers clear from the angst, he didn’t know what he was getting into when he started reading the Replaced AU and boy does he regret it
The instant he senses your behaviour is off in the fanfiction he’s distancing his face from the screen as if he's waiting for a jumpscare. When you get ruder and colder towards him he’s clicking away from the fanfic and is shocked to find mountains of fanfics just like the one he just read
You’re his comfort character, the one who has faith in him and would accept him no matter what. He can’t stomach a trope that goes against that so he couldn’t even finish the first Replaced AU fic he read (he might even block the Replaced AU tag so he never gets reminded)
Likely ranted in a post or two of how the trope slanders your character and calls it stupid. He’ll never admit that he thinks the Replaced AU is an interesting concept, he just wants his happy ending with you
Satan
Depending on how it’s written and its various interpretations, Satan is intrigued, both in the trope itself and how it took off in popularity
As an avid reader, he is aware that even the most mellow and kind-hearted people can snap in certain environments. If that environment is accurately portrayed, then the Replaced AU can be a fascinating deep dive into your character
As long as it’s well written and it’s clear care and thought was put into it, he’ll read any interpretation of the Replaced AU and is interested to see where it will go. For him, it’s less a self indulgent read and more a thriller to keep him on the edge of his seat
That being said, Satan is quite critical about the majority of Replaced AU fanfictions. He knows your character better than anyone and believes it will take a lot more than a second exchange student for you to ignore the protagonist entirely
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Obey Me! Masterlist
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gukyi · 3 years
Text
the art of the rom-com | jjk
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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?
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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.
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[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
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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?
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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.” 
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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.”
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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?
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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. 
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“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.
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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. 
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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. 
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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.
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“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.”
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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.”
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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.
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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.”
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“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?”
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“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. 
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“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. 
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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. 
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And so, they lived happily ever after. 
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↳ thanks for reading! don’t forget to let me know if you enjoyed it!
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alreadyblondenow · 3 years
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Each other’s replacements
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▸ Na Jaemin x female!reader ▸ Inspired by the anime Scum’s Wish ▸ High school au, SMUUUUT, fluff and angst
Summary: Two broken hearts met unexpectedly and agreed to use each other so you can both move on from your exes. Your hearts belong to each other already, you’re just waiting for love to take place and make everything right. But will you both still choose each other in the future? Word count: 6,988k
Warnings: Using each other to forget your exes, ex Lee Jeno, kind of fuck buddies but no? Fingering, mentions of fingering, handjob, blowjob, and watching each other masturbate, mentions of taking nude photos after sex, Jaemin taking a picture of your naked body after sex (with consent ofc), uproctected sex, mentions of rough sex, making out, swearing, mentions of breakup, actual breakup
A/N: I hope you enjoy this Jaemin fic. I tried writing it as realistic as possible because I think Scum’s Wish is a very mature and realistic anime, I mean shit like that happens in real life. And I think Mugi is so fucking handsome. The ending of the series sux btw HAHAA bc I wanted them to end up together so heres my version of it. 
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It all happened so fast but the heartbreak stayed and the process of healing is very slow.
Three months have passed already when your ex-boyfriend Jeno broke up with you on a nice afternoon after school. The reason? Well, let’s just say he fell out of love. And that’s what made it worst because you remember that all you ever did was love him and please him.
Every day, you go to school, attend class, study hard but you always looked so gloomy. And whenever Jeno cross paths with you in the hallways, he knew he hurt you badly and that you’re not your normal self anymore. The cheerful and excited girl he fell in love with was gone and it’s all because of him. He can only wish that someone will bring you back and make you happy again.
“I’ll help you with that,” a cold manly voice interrupted you and your thoughts while you were having a hard time throwing the trash. He’s not part of your class, he’s one of Jeno’s classmates but you two were never introduced to each other.
You watch him throw the heavy trash for you and hoping that he will hand the bin afterward but he didn’t. “Lead the way, it’s dirty I’ll hold it for you” he insists, so you do as you’re told, showed him the way so you can finish this day as soon as possible.
Jaemin knew everything. It’s a small school and students usually gossip too much whenever a couple breaks up, especially after being together for so long. He knew who broke your heart, he also knew that you used to smile and be cheerful all the time because he has seen you in places and he knew you're capable of automatically lighting up the place whenever you’re around. But now… all he can see is a broken-hearted girl.
“Here,” you hand him a tissue and your hand sanitizer as a thank you for not letting your hands get dirty. He accepted it and gave you a small smile, obviously, he’s not shy and he was looking directly at you while his hands move. To be honest, you have no reason to be shy with each other, and honestly, you just don’t care anymore you just want to end this day. But Jaemin being the bold man that he is, bravely loosen up the ribbon of your school uniform and undid a few buttons from your school blouse. It was a common thing for students to do that after school as a sign that they're ready to head home and end their day. Jeno used to do it for you, and you didn’t expect Jaemin would do it. Despite the fact that you only met properly today.
You don’t know what happened but your heart was racing the moment he’s done adjust it and you just stare at his crooked tie and figured you may as well loosen it up for him too and return the favor. A bold move that Jaemin did not expect from a girl because he’s used to being with girls who become shy and all flustered after he makes a move.
But you, you’re different.
And that’s when Jaemin realized that you are a perfect match for him.
Word is Na Jaemin is pretty popular with girls. Besides Lee Jeno your ex, Na Jaemin is the second most handsome guy in school. Not only that he’s handsome, but you also know that he is passionate when it comes to photography, he’s naturally smart, not that nice, quiet but cocky, cold but can give anyone the right amount of attention if he wants to. But in your case, you have his full attention.
That afternoon, for the first time in three months, you did not go home alone, someone walked with you and watched you go inside your house.
The same cold but needed interaction with Jaemin happened over and over again until people started to gossip and think that you’re together. But it was nothing like that and you stopped caring about rumors a long time ago. Jaemin is nothing like Jeno, but he’s a gentleman, he’s straightforward but most of the time quiet. And most of the time you share silence not stories and you both love it that way.
You were different people but before you knew it, you were spending more time with each other.
On Valentine's day, you don’t know what came to his mind and brought you a bouquet of roses and gave it to you secretly. You were genuinely happy of course, but you just couldn’t smile that big and show him more. Seeing him from afar with a dozen roses and a smirk, with his black sling bag he uses for school that makes him so attractive… is enough to call your Valentine's day a memorable day.
“You’re special too,” he said and hands you the bouquet. “Ready to go home? Sorry I couldn’t help you with trash today, I picked these up right after school and rushed back-“
“Thank you” you cut him off with a friendly kiss on the cheek that made him blush and shy for the first time.
With a bouquet of roses on your left arm and the trash bin on your right hand, you came back to your classroom to get your stuff and put the bin back. You cleaned your hands and admire the roses as the afternoon sunlight hits them perfectly and finally come out again to meet Jaemin. Only to find him eavesdropping on the classroom near yours.
“What-“
“Shh” he cut you off with a ‘shh’ gesture and made you look at the half-closed door and made you listen to their conversation as well.
Jeno I like you too.
Were words that immediately ruined your day that Jaemin perfected. But this is not about you. Because when you turned your back and looked at the man beside you, you saw yourself. The pain that you’ve been feeling for months now, you saw it in Jaemin’s eyes too. Now you understand that you’re just two broken people who are still in pain. And you have no idea that he has been hurting too.
Of course, seeing Jeno with another girl hurt you badly, but seeing Jaemin get teary-eyed bothered you more. So you reached for his hand and whispered, ‘it’s okay’ even though it’s not, and walked away silently with him to continue your day together.
“Do you think they’re just doing this because people are gossiping about us?” you asked while you watch him stare at his coffee blankly. You’ve never seen him like this even though he’s always quiet and cold.
“N-no. I know my ex, uhm… she wouldn’t use anyone. Is Jeno-“
“No. I know him too. And I know that he’s happy when he found out about us,”
“So it’s true then. Their feelings for each other” he said and went back to staring at his coffee blankly.
You pursed your lips and let out a deep sigh. Allowing yourself to be hurt again by hearing the truth that you have been completely replaced in Jeno’s heart. There was silence. Then you decided to admire the flowers that Jaemin gave to you and feel the soft petals on your fingertips. This day could have been a turning page for the both of you, but now you’re both very sure that you’re not yet ready to open your hearts for somebody else.
“Red roses mean love and romance,” you said as you continue to admire the roses that he gave which made him smile a little. “Do you like me?” and just like that, you gave him the question that you’ve been meaning to ask for the past few months.
“I do” he answered without hesitating, which gave you a shock actually. “Do you?” he returned the question.
“I don’t,” you said the truth because you can’t repay him with lies. No. You can’t do that to Jaemin, “but you’ve become special to me. And I don’t want to lose you too,” Honestly you thought being honest to him will make him feel even more horrible but it didn’t. In fact, it brought the unique handsome smile you love seeing on his face.  
“Though, it’s not right that we are using each other to forget our exes-“ you added but he cut you off immediately.
“But I need you, and honestly I’ve been very happy these past few weeks because of you” he confessed. And you wish that you could tell him the same thing but you can’t because it’s still Jeno. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not begging you to stay. You’re an adult and I have nothing against your decisions. But I really hope we could go back to normal and be closer now that we know what each other really feels. I will date you properly when the right time comes… Just not now that we're both still confused and not sure”  
Everything did not make sense of course, and the right thing to do is refuse. But the past few weeks were actually good. Not great but still Jaemin was a huge change. So you nod your head and agreed that you should continue what you’re doing but promised each other that if either one of you feels pressured already, then you should stop.
As you continue seeing Jaemin and trying to move on from Jeno, you became comfortable with each other as days go by to the point that neither one of you cares if someone mentions that you look great together even though your relationship is not true.
It was a never-ending try to give each other the chance and love that you deserve. But at the same time, it was a never-ending process of healing from your exes, a never-ending heartbreak whenever you two hear something good about their relationship. And to be honest you’re both happy that you’re not facing this heartbreak alone.
You’re thankful for each other because you have each other’s backs. But in a different way.
Jaemin is thankful for you because he can hold your hand, hug you tightly from behind then whisper sweet words, and kiss your neck, whenever he wants to, and whenever he misses skinship with his ex.
You on the other hand, is thankful too because he does these various things to you and you can just close your eyes and he lets you imagine that he’s Jeno. Like now. You were just cuddling and watching the rain from his window when suddenly his hand roamed under your skirt while he was listening to you talk, and his cold fingers played on the hem of your panties. Teasing your pussy and moving his fingers up and down your wet cover slit.
“How does Jeno touch you? Is gentle? Rough?” He asks in the sexiest tone he ever used and started kissing your neck. You had a hard time answering his question because of what he’s doing, but your mind lurks on the memories you had with Jeno in his room.
You remember how Jeno fingered you in his bed, how two fingers always feel good and that’s how you like it, you remember that while his fingers are deep inside you, he is busy kissing your body. Planting soft kisses on your chest and on your boobs, kissing your nipples and making them sensitive and he puts them in his mouth and sucks it good until it's both swollen.
This is the first time Jaemin had touched you down there. And you swear, you don’t want him to stop and you just want to remove your panties and spread your legs for him.
“Jaem-“ you moaned out an airy tone. Calling his name with your eyes closed and parted lips. Feeling his fingers go up and down your wet slit still.
“Do you mean Jeno?” Jaemin asks. But truth be told he doesn’t mind you moaning his name instead on your first time going too far. And finally, he removed your panties and made you spread your legs for him which you gladly did. Putting two fingers slowly while he’s watching you make the sexiest faces that just simply makes him hard.
Jaemin never rushed, he took his sweet time with your body. Pushing you on the edge over and over again but you don’t know why you haven’t cum yet. His tongue and fingers together were somewhat calming and just made you breathe in and out deeply, which is relaxing while you spread your legs even more.
And when you finally came, it was a nice warm feeling all over your body. Like you just got out of the shower, wet and relaxed. Though you feel so tired, weak and sleepy... Jeno was never like this but your imagination was a big help that you moaned Jeno’s name a couple of times and that made Jaemin felt so accomplished.
“How about you? Don’t you want to cum?” you asked Jaemin while you watch him help you wear your panties again, kissing your thighs after.
“Maybe later,” he said, not admitting that he came earlier too, ruining his boxers briefs.
That day you did more than touching each other’s private parts but actually giving each other oral sex for the first time. His sheets were so ruined because he came so hard when you gave him a blowjob, a handjob and when he jerked himself in front of you while he watches you finger yourself. In return, he made you cum more than three times using his fingers and tongue. And you came home with a weak body and weak legs that you flopped straight in your bed and slept with a smile.
But there are times that it’s just the two of you. Just Jaemin and Y/n, no exes involved. Where you can be free being yourselves whenever you’re alone together. Like him snapping pictures of you out of nowhere while you’re busy kissing him, or whenever you just finished having sex and you’re both too lazy to get dressed again and he will suddenly capture amazing photos of you while you’re still naked in his bed, wearing nothing but the smile he gave you because of the sex.
“Hmm. Jaemin, these are beautiful. Can I have this one? I love seeing your works, it’s like I’m seeing myself through your eyes”
Little did you know that that simple compliment from you made him blush hard and his heart jump. It’s not every day he gets to be himself, but lately, he has been feeling so inspired with his craft and he had a good guess it’s because of you.
“You can keep this too, it’s one of my favorites,” he said and handed you a picture of you kissing him while he smiles so big and so handsome with both of your eyes closed. It’s a perfect moment, a moment that Jaemin captured in the middle of him being so happy that you’re showering him with kisses.
Jaemin is sweet and quiet as usual and he showers you with love and affection every day in his own way. He’s not the normal guy who will praise you and tell you that you’re beautiful, he will just simply look at you like you’re his favorite person in the world. Which you are now. He doesn’t talk too much because one, that’s his personality already and two, he simply loves listening to you even though you don’t talk too much yourself.
He is the complete opposite of Jeno, and that’s why he became special to you.
“Yesterday, me and my mom were at the mall and I saw them. Just from afar and they were about to enter the movies and… you know, seeing them together hurt” he says while kicking stones on your way to your house.
You can only imagine the pain he felt when he saw them spending time together, and now it’s your time to get hurt because Jeno used to bring you to the movies. Then it gave you an idea.
“Do you want to go to the movies tomorrow? My treat,” you said. Nervous and shy you slowly met eyes and stopped walking when you finally arrived in front of your house.
“Did you just realized that I haven’t taken you out on a date? Because I feel bad, I just realized it now” he rambles.
“No no,” you chuckled, “I simply wanted to go to the movies with you. So tomorrow?” you were slowly walking away from him with a small smile on your face. If Jaemin was being honest, he wanted to be with you just a little bit longer. But parting will make your meeting even sweeter the next day.
On the next day, you remember clearly that you said ‘my treat’ yesterday. But the whole day that you’re together he never let you pay for anything, not even a bottle of water. You feel at ease even though it’s your first date and it’s your first time seeing each other in casual clothes and not in your uniforms, or wearing nothing at all. He looked handsome in his get up, he knows how to dress and he sure does look like the warm person you know.
“Do you like anything else?” he whispered beside you while you two wait for the movie to start and watch people enter.
“No I’m just a little chilly. But I’m fine, keep your jacket,” you stopped him before he removes his jacket, you know he will. So instead of lending you his jacket, he kept you close and wrapped an arm around you.
“This is nice, right?” he whispered back and rested his head on yours.
During the movie, Jaemin did not try any funny business. Though you were waiting for it and of course you will give him your consent. If this was Jeno, by this time you’re whimpering and cumming on his fingers by now. But you’re with Jaemin right now, and Jaemin did nothing but hold your hand, keep you close and keep you warm. And the thing that he did that made your heart race the most, was when he tightens his embrace when the couple kissed in the movie, exchanged ‘i love yous’ and he pulled you closer to him. “We’ll get there,” he whispered, “Just remember that I’m the one here and not Jeno” and you nod because you agree to him.  
Not long after your first date, you and Jaemin shared a kiss under a lamppost just before you enter your house. It was not your first kiss of course. But it was the first time that you two felt that there we're no lust involved. It was a genuine kiss. A kiss that told you ‘I’m glad you chose to stay in this stupid relationship we have’ not to mention his soft lips were addicting and he was gentle the whole time. He wasn’t rushing you, he wasn’t hungry for you. But you can feel his long to finally move on and give his love wholly to you.
“Is it okay if I kiss you like that every day from now on?” he asked softly, forehead to forehead and just enjoying the cold breeze of the evening and the quietness of the street.
It’s Jaemin, not Jeno. You remind yourself over and over again.
“Yes” you nod and wrapped your arms around his neck, “Kiss me again” you requested. And so Jaemin did, even deeper but this time he took your breath away during the kiss.
The moment you closed the door and Jaemin watched you go inside your house safely, you burst into tears because you can’t help but see Jeno in your head and imagine that it’s Jeno kissing you not Jaemin. Even though it felt nothing like Jeno’s kisses, even though you smell Jaemin’s unique cologne, still it’s Jeno whom you see in your head and it’s Jeno whom you really wanted to kiss.
Days passed by and you try a little harder to show him affection, you try a little harder to be with Jaemin and not think about your ex, you try saying Jaemin’s name more often. Calling him with a smile, surprising him with back hugs, smiling with him more. Honestly, you just want to help yourself with forgetting Jeno completely because it’s exhausting already.
Today is the school’s fair and you’ve been with your friends the whole day laughing and discussing boys over snacks, sex and other stuff. And while you and your friends have been participating in a lot of games today, Jaemin can’t stop taking pictures of you from afar and watch your pretty smile. The smile he’s been seeing a lot lately and he hopes that it’s because of him.
‘Hey beautiful, I like your smile’
You received a text from him, you look around where he is and you found him behind you. Smiling so handsomely with his camera slung on his shoulder. Your friends teased you and Jaemin for being all flirty with your glances, you have never been shy around him but now there are butterflies in your stomach. Jaemin then shamelessly showed your friends how he treats you nicely, he can’t kiss you inside the school grounds so he winked at you instead and smiled.
It definitely made everyone around you jealous. Especially when Jaemin started taking your pictures, something no one was ever seen Jaemin do.
At the end of the day, you and Jaemin walk hand in hand and went to his house to cuddle and flirt more in his bed. Hands intertwined, legs tangled, bodies closer and just listening to each other talk about the most random things.
That’s right, you and Jaemin now talk. No more comfortable silence, no more quiet walks, you’ve come so far to reach this level of comfort. And when you’re both comfortable in each other’s arms like this, you both never shut up about the things you want to share with each other. Like the comfortable silence was gone with your awkward and shy phase too.
You asked him how he used to love his ex and he never shuts up about it, and it is as if he was describing how he’s treating you but when it comes to you everything was better. Like how he used to not care about Valentines for his ex but for you he went to different kinds of flower shop just so he can find the best quality of red roses. He used to hate walking with his ex because it’s making him sweat like crazy, but when it comes to you, seeing and watching you go inside your home safely was satisfying.
“Jaemin what are we? Are we friends with benefits now? Or just friends?” you dropped the question out of nowhere while you two lie in your bed, and you play with his long and perfect eyelashes.
“Hmm. No, fuck buddies avoid feelings while we... well, we try to develop our feelings. Let’s say we're two waiting hearts, were not yet in love with each other but… we belong to each other already. How’s that sound?”
“Waiting hearts. Hmm. I like it. Did you made that up?” you giggle and ran your fingertips on his very soft lips, which made him catch your hand and kiss it before he opens his beautiful eyes again.
“Yeah” he says, “But everything I said was true. Moving on is a bitch and I just can’t wait to love you right,”
And those words were just right. Perfect actually, that it made you kiss him sweetly and sincerely. And with your lips and the way you kiss, Jaemin felt that you made a promise to him. Like you’re not going to make him wait for nothing. And because of that he deepens the kiss and went on top of you, placing his body in between your legs, kissing your body nonstop and whispering sweet things to you.
“When we're finally and officially together, I won’t hurt you as Jeno did,” and you believe him because even though that you’re a wreck now, Jaemin stayed and put up with you.
He suddenly stopped kissing you, letting you breathe and bask at this moment, then he swallowed the lump in his throat and told you the truth. “I’m finally getting there…by the way, I mean, all I think about is us-you,” he was talking about his progress of moving on. “You don’t have to be pressured or anything at this point just, focus on yourself. Okay?” he said and kissed you again.
As your days with Jaemin continues, you don’t see Jeno anymore whenever you’re with Jaemin. No more imagining, it’s just you, the moment, and Jaemin. Though you’re not sure if you’ve already moved on this time or you’re just too overwhelmed because of Jaemin. Still, you know to yourself that you’re getting there and Jaemin is the reason why you’re even more closer to peace now. But you haven’t told him yet because you’re not ready. For you, you know that he will not leave and so it’s okay to take your time.
It started when you realized everything that he has done for you and the things that he’s ready to do for you. Loving again, or being given the opportunity to love someone again so deep is something so special and exciting especially when the man who holds your heart and the one waiting for you right now is Jaemin. The life you’re taking before Jaemin was like a black tunnel that you’ve been walking around in circles for some time now. And you sure as hell don’t want to take that path again.  
And just thinking about experiencing the things that Jaemin has to offer, you can only do that if you give up on Jeno. So with great effort, you slowly focus your mind only on Jaemin and replace every bit of Jeno in your life with Jaemin, and from now on you make sure that you have something in return for him.
“Jaemin-“ you moan his name. Something so new and so satisfying for Jaemin to hear it's his name you moan now, not Jeno’s.
“You know, you make me shy whenever you say my name” he catches his breath and came closer to you to plant kisses on your back and knead your boobs from behind, nipples hard and swollen because you’ve been in bed with him for almost two hours now. “What do you need?” he asks while making you feel good with his lips and hands.
“Maybe slow down? I’m not going anywhere,” you hear him giggle from behind because of your request, slapping your but playfully and squeezing it good. Then suddenly, out of nowhere he rolled his hips, and let out a sexy grunt. “Fuck Jaemin, I wasn’t ready-“ you croak and landed on the mattress, face first as you grip the sheets and take Jaemin’s cock followed by a wave of hard and fast thrusts.
He kept a firm grip on your waist as he gives you hard thrusts and he kept you down on the mattress, a hand on your waist and a hand on your nape. It kept your movements minimal that’s why you can’t do anything now that you’re on the edge and he’s torturing you using his dick. But the best part of Jaemin fucking you from behind is the way he fucks you rough... so rough sometimes that you get red marks after a good round. This only happens whenever he catches his breath, but sometimes his thrusts become slow and deeper and honestly you feel like he’s rearranging your insides. And of course you love it whenever he’s just so fast and the sound of skin slapping surrounds his room and the impact of his thrust just drags you on the mattress, almost at the edge of the bed and he would have to drag your body towards him and fuck you faster and harder.
But this time, your pussy is so sensitive and your body is giving up and shivering already that you try and push him away, moan his name for mercy, grip his sheets while you arch your back so beautifully to ease your sensitivity.
“You said you’re not going anywhere? Why are you running away from me? Huh?” it was a sexy tone and his thrusts started to go slow but deeper than before and he had spread your legs again from behind. His arm is around your neck and ends at your shoulder, bodies closer than ever as he puts his whole weight on you and you feel his hard rock abs hits your back. Then he started thrusting hard again but now you can’t move your body because he got you locked in his arms, and instead of gripping the sheets, you now grip Jaemin’s arm and hands as you don’t have a choice but to accept his hard thrust.
Thrust after thrust, you breathe heavily and let out groans and call out his name. Until your body can’t take it anymore and you’re shaking uncontrollably and you did everything you can to push him away and try curling yourself into a ball but Jaemin was quick to flip you on your back and reach in for a deep kiss.
Kissing you while you cum and enjoy your orgasm. Feeling his tongue swirl around your as your body shakes and his hands caress your thighs so you could calm down and melt on his kiss.
After you cum, you and Jaemin did not stop kissing. He stayed above you, in between your legs and proceed to make out. Slowly and passionately, hands roaming to appreciate each other’s body, hands together and your lips locks and you look at each other with deep admiration.
“I want to date for real now. I’m so afraid to lose you Y/n,” he said directly into your eyes and rested his forehead on yours. “I promise I can do more for you, just be mine completely” he reached for your hands and kissed your knuckles.
Finally, you thought. And to be honest you have so much to say but none came out from your mouth. You looked at his tired sex face, his hair is all over his face, sweaty and his lips are swollen because of your intense kisses. And because your heart is full of happiness right now, you just nod so fast and cup his face and attacked him with kisses.
A love for love.
The first few days with Jaemin were beautiful. You both have your hearts full of love admiration towards one another and you shower each other with love every day without having second thoughts. You have never been loved like this and you didn’t know that you can love someone as deeply.
In just a few days, lust and love were perfectly balanced in your relationship. Now that you’re officially together, you and Jaemin would rather talk non-stop while holding hands, laugh and laugh until you’re both in tears, rather than have sex and exhaust each other out. But of course, now that you’re together, you can finally have the right to stay the night at their house, meet his family, have quiet sex at night where Jaemin’s lips are on your lips, catching every sound and moan you make so his parents won’t suspect.
“I love you,” you said and kissed him before you close your eyes and drift away. In return, he tightens his embrace and kissed you one too many times.
“I love you too,”
Now that you and Jaemin are official, he wanted to do everything again with you. Meaning, he wanted to give you flowers again as your boyfriend this time and not just as someone who’s waiting for you. He wanted to take you out on a proper date as your boyfriend, on your favorite fast food and spend all night long being happy with you.
SUNDAY
At first, you didn’t want to agree with his plan because him giving you all his love every day was enough. But he insists, and that’s why you’re waiting for your handsome boyfriend at your favorite fast food with a glass of water in front of you. He’s 30 minutes late already and you wonder why.
“I’ll get the red ones please, my girlfriend loved those last Valentine's day,” Jaemin’s smile was so big as he watches the florist wrap the red roses he got for you. He’s late because he went to the same shop where he bought you the flowers that you loved last Valentine's day.
And just as Jaemin walks out of the flower shop with a bouquet of red roses in his arm and a smile on his face, he thought about how this night will definitely be a great night for the two of you. And most importantly, no exes to ruin your first date as a couple.
While you were waiting for Jaemin inside, you didn’t know that he’s outside with a dozen roses in his arm and just smiling because he is now looking at the girl whom he loves the most.
Then suddenly, his phone rang and accepted an unexpected phone call. The voice of the girl on the other line was familiar. Very familiar. And his fist balled up immediately when he heard her crying through the phone. Turns out, he still can’t say no to the girl he used to love so much and his excitement on seeing you was immediately replaced with anger.
“Who made you cry? Where are you?” Jaemin asked sternly to his ex.
“He left me Jaems- I’m sorry I don’t know who else to call, I’m at home can you please go here? I really need someone right now, I’ll lose my mind,”
And just like that, he chose his ex over you. He told himself, he will be quick and still meet you afterward. But you waited for an hour… until closing time. Leaving tons and tons of messages to Jaemin but he didn’t return any of them. Maybe something important came up? A family matter? You tried and tried to forgive him even though you’re pissed that he didn’t show up. You even reminded yourself that you didn’t want this date in the first place so why be upset? So it’s okay.  
When you’re finally near your house after a very disappointing date that could have been a beautiful one for you and Jaemin, a very familiar figure was waiting for you outside your house.
One glance at that perfect face, small crescent eyes, and beautiful smile, gave your mind an instant flashback. The guy who loved you first way before Jaemin came into your life, the man who loved you in your highs and lowest moment, the man you’ve been waiting to come back…. is finally back.
“How are you?” he started.
“Better. Jeno, what are you doing here?” you asked, straight to the point.
“I just came by to see you. I’m the one who ruined us but I still miss you from time to time you know? And now I know why,”
“And that is?”
“Regrets. Now that I’m single again, for sure my regrets will even weigh more,” he let out a heavy sigh and looked at his shoes before he gave you a question. A question that he already knows the answer. “If I ask you to come back, will you accept it?” he didn’t look you in the eye. He just stared at the sky and waited for your answer.
“No,” you said honestly and without regrets. “I waited for you to come back long enough. And I worked so hard to be healed again,”
“Then I should’ve asked you earlier then. I should’ve left her earlier,”
What he said sounded wrong for you. Because you know if he did those earlier you will end up hurting Jaemin instead. At least now, it’s clear like the sky above that you no longer love Jeno.
The night ended with a friendly hug. It’s the only comfort you can offer to him because you respect your boyfriend. And you well know that staying longer with Jeno tonight can spark your first fight with Jaemin.
But as you lie in your bed and think about everything that happened tonight, your mind takes you to unwanted scenarios where Jaemin chose to comfort his ex rather than meeting up with you. It’s not right to doubt Jaemin, so you close your eyes and looked forward to the next day.
And just as you thought, you’re going to wake up with a bunch of missed calls or texts from Jaemin, you have none. So there is something wrong.
Jaemin on the other hand is staring at a white ceiling and thinking about the things that he can’t take back right now. It’s too early for regrets but he doesn’t have a choice but to rethink his wrong decisions, over and over again. Starting when he answered the phone call from the naked girl beside him right now. The wrong decisions he made last night was the epitome of the phrase, ‘one thing led to another’
He answered the call and stood you up.
He went to his ex’s house.
He returned the kiss.
He agreed to fuck.
It was all his choice. Wrong choices that made him lose and lost you way before your relationship could have bloomed beautifully. And he can’t take that back because he can't show his face to you anymore for the sexual activity that happened last night between him and his ex, somehow brought them back together.
SUNDAY
It all happened so fast but the heartbreak stayed and the process of healing is very slow.
Seven days have passed already when Jaemin stood you up on a date to choose his ex over you. The reason? Well, you don’t know because you and Jaemin did not talk it out… the breakup sort of happened automatically when you saw him and his now girlfriend again, holding hands while entering the school grounds on a cold Monday morning. And that’s what made it worst because you remember that all you ever did was love him and be better to make way for the love you thought you both want.
Every day, you go to school, attend class, study hard but you always looked so gloomy. Again. And whenever Jaemin crosses paths with you in the hallways, he knew he hurt you badly and that he broke every promise he told you. He can only wish that he could turn back time and choose to not answer that fucking call.
Just like that, you’re back in that black tunnel and you didn’t expect that Jaemin will be the reason why you’re back on this dark path again. And this time, the heartbreak was ten times even worst than what you felt during your breakup with Jeno.  
A few more weeks after the breakup, you started being alone with yourself again and try to give your heart a break from all the drama.
But one fateful afternoon, when everyone had gone home already and you’re on trash duty again, as usual, Jaemin finally decided to swallow his pride and say the apology you deserve.
“I’m sorry, Y/n,” Jaemin said out of nowhere. He was looking straight into your eyes when he said it, and you can see that he’s sincere through his eyes.
“I hope you’re happy” and that's all you can say and try to walk away.
“I’m not- do you still love me?”
It was a question that broke both of your hearts because you both know that even though love is involved, it’s still not enough to keep you together.
But still, you answered him with all honesty. “Yes” short and simple.
“Then let's be together-“ he proposed with hopeful eyes.
“And what? Cheat?” you ask sternly, he nodded. “One of the reasons why I liked you back then is because you’re not complicated. You’re a simple ‘yes’ and ‘no’, but now you’re the one who complicates things. I’m sorry. It’s a no,” and that is an answer Jaemin did not expect from you because he thought you loved him that much that you’re still going to accept him. But maybe, the pain that he’s feeling right now, is the same pain that you felt when he chose his ex over you that night.
As days, months, and seasons change but of course the heartbreak never left, you focus more on being with yourself until finally you survived this school year and today is your last day in school. But before everything ended, a lot has happened before it finally ended, like Jeno suddenly transferring schools, Jaemin is single again, and you were awarded for ranking #3 out of hundreds of other students studying their asses off.
That same afternoon, while you’re fixing your stuff and ready yourself to go home under the pouring rain, Jaemin found you alone in your classroom again. And it felt like you’re meeting again for the first time. You don’t know why you accepted his help, you don’t know why you let him walk you home under his small umbrella that made you walk closely together.
He was quiet. You were quiet. But it was not the comfortable silence you used to have, it was very awkward. But you both endured it because if you’re both going to be honest with your feelings, you both wanted this.
“Are we going to do this again?” you ask before you enter your house.  
“Yes. The right way,”
And you know you both found your way back to each other because it’s the right thing to do.
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thekillingjoke-haha · 3 years
Text
We’re Batshit Crazy
@spnquotebingo​ Word count:1,609
Summary: Love isn't all that perfect sometimes love is crazy especially when the Hero is in love with said crazy.
Gotham AU
Jason Todd(Jensen Ackles) x Villan!Reader
Enemies and Lovers (none of that "to" bs)
Gotham Recasting: Batman=John, Dick Grayson(second Robin not first) =Sam ,Tim Drake=Adam, Joker(ledger style)=Lucifer, Harley Quinn=Lilith,ect.
Warnings: Mention of death, blood, guns, and violence
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The mad laughter rung out into the night sky as the purple Lamborghini hit corners with violently sharp turns. "Oh puddin I just love family night!~" The pale platinum blonde giggled as the man with green dyed hair licked his smiling lips. A bubble of laughter came from the back seat he turned around to see his princess looking out the small back window. "Batsy batsy batsy" Her low/high pitched giggle caused a crazy chain reaction as the bat mobile hurried to catch up. "Always ruining our fun,huh,princess?" The clown king shifted his gray-ish blue order into the mirror grinning making the scars on his face raise into a sinister smile at the look of pure chaos in his daughter's e/c eyes. "Not tonight! Not on my birthday!!" She said as she smiled reaching under the seat to pull out a Tommy gun. Climbing to the front seat sitting on her mothers lap she leaned out the passenger window. "Go back to the Rat cave your not gonna put a downer on my weekend!" Y/n yelled shooting off round towards the tires,windshield,and headlights.
The mobile didn't seem to have a scratch as as a motorcycle pulled up beside it. Slipping back in the car the younger women pouted looking at get parents. "He called his little birdie no doubt the replacements in the car." Y/n huffed as she dug around for more fire power. "Puddin we have a visitor.~" The red mask gazed at us as he lifted a forearm pistol. Shots were fired and Joker took a hard right almost like tron the motorcycle quickly turned into a ally to avoid being hit. "Sorry Princess might have to cut tonight shot." He said licking his lips as a thump came from the roof making the youngest clown snarl her eye crazed as she shot above her as the purple car swerved wildly. "YOU'RE RUINING MY BIRTHDAY,BATS!!!" Y/n cackled madly a mixture of her parents laughed till the magazine ran out.
They got to one of their warehouses where Jokers men were armed to the teeth. The clown mask had black soulless eyes and immediately fired the moment the batmobile entered. Y/n skipped out of the purple Lamborghini she got on her tippy toes and kissed her dad on the cheek. "I got the hooded punk. Can you clip the bats wings for me...a little present?!" He laughed as he armed himself with a shotgun. "Anything for my princess." The f/c sf/c female clown skipped away knowing that the motorcycle riding vigilante was hot on her tail. That's how she found herself on the roof tops jumping the gaps as heavy footfalls followed. Her loud laugh echoed as she leaped to a smaller building hiding behind a vent the moment the brown leather jacket came into view she tackled the tall man. They were both panting as a grin pulled on the clowns lips.
Y/n POV
"Caught ya,Jay bird." I giggled pulling of the helmet his apple green eyes covered by a second mask stared at me he chuckled as his hand slipped above his head in mock surrender. "Yeah you caught me,beautiful." Leaning down I kiss him my hands pushed into his cheeks my thumb running over the scarred J. We've been dating for awhile now ever since dad kidnapped the second Robin at seventeen. I was fifteen at the time and dad had me at his side as he tortured him.I was always there to stitched him up and put burn cream after shock therapy I didn't know how we got attached maybe because he wanted to rebel a little by talking to me or someone around his age saw the same if not worse shit.
Six years ago(Y/n 15 Jason 17)
"Why are you helping me?" Looking up his head was strapped down along with his arms and legs. I shrugged my shoulders I knew who he was if I wiped off the make up and temp dyed my hair I was the honor student in the same class as him. Jason Todd anyone with eyes had a thing for him,but after removing his mask it wasn't hard to piece together who the bat fam is. "I know what my dad has planned for you Jay. This is just a band-aid on a gunshot wound and might I say that's very unhelpful." This was the first I spoke to him and it wasn't long before Dad beat him to death.
Two years later.
I sat in the back of the car as Frost drove. We just left the cemetery. "Why are we doing this,n/n." He asked looking in the rear view mirror at me. I'm seventeen now my thoughts screamed at me. Why was I trying to bring him back? "Because I crazy that why!" I giggled as we grew closer to the lazapit. He was dressed in a black suit with red tie his body sunk into the water as I waited. A loud gasp drew my attention as he shot up a white streak in his hair. "Heya sleeping beauty." Looking over in shock he lowly made his way looking like a baby deer. "I'm alive,but h-how?" His green eyes looked at me. "A Ghoul owed me a few favors I just asked to use his fountain of youth." Handing him a towel and some clothes. "Sorry about the outfit,but Arkham does have one size fits all." Jason chuckled as he started to dry off.I realized why I brought him back. I was crazy about him.
Two more years later(two years ago)
Jason wanted to stay dead he didn't go back to His dad and brother after he realized that neither of them tried and save him. It was sad to see,but it brought Jason closer to me and he started to trust me and I gave trust in return. Blood coated my hands while some was on my face. Looking at Jay some was speckled on his cheeks taking the pockets square out of the mobsters coat I wiped it off he looked down at me his arm slipped around my waist pulling me closer my breath hicked. "Will you be my girlfriend,my little jester?" A large smile grew on my face as my arms went around his neck pulling him down further. "Gladly,Jay bird." I kissed him not caring if my lipstick stained his lips and he didn't seem to care either as the kiss grew more intense. We shared our first kiss at nineteen surrounded by dead bodies as sirens and the unmistakable sound of the armed batmobile. At least he's as crazy about me as I am about him.
One year ago. (Jason POV for a sec)
I came to Bruce I hate to admit it but I needed advice about the one think he knew best. Women. It was just a couple of months ago he found out I was alive and shocker he managed to drive Dicky boy to Blüdhaven to get away from him to get his own image and not just Robin. Oh and surprise surprise when out of robins he had a spare like a tire and it's name was Tim. Nevermind that I stood across from Bruce in his home main office he had a frown on his face. "You're dating someone and its serious and I didn't know about it?" He asked trying to deduct everything. "I've been dating her ever since I came back. As strange as it might sound,but I want us to be something more." That's when the billionaire playboy stood up standing just a inch shorter then myself.
"Life is short Jason and you've experienced that first hand if you feel that both of you are perfect enough to be more then go for it." Perfect wasn't realistic nothing was ever perfect my life isn't perfect her life sure as hell isn't she's the clown princess I'm a bat son. Maybe that what makes us so good together the fact that it would have never really happened any other way life is just crazy like that.
Present
Staring into those vexing green eyes always brought me back. We're both twenty-one him being older only by a couple of months. "Happy birthday,gorgeous." His voice brought me back as my smile grew. We were standing up now he held a box wrapped in my two favorite colors. "Awe you shouldn't have." I grab it and opened it a gun was inside it was red and gold revolver it looked like my moms love/hate gun,but it said King/Queen. Looking at Jay I reached to hug him when suddenly he dropped to one knee pulling out a box with a beautiful f/c ring and ruby gem. "This feels over due. You took care of me when I was considered enemy number one. You brought me back from the grave when my own family didn't try. And this might sound stupid,but I had a crush on you in middle school you were one of the only people that didn't give me pity after Bruce adopted a street kid." He licked his lips as he gave of a small smile. "Together we are far from perfect, but we are good. You complete me...Y/n M/n Napier become my queen?" My eyes glossed over with tears my make up running down the pale foundation. "Oh my god of course!!!" I jumped into his arms hugging him tightly before letting him slip on the ring. "I love you." "I love you more crazy." I chuckle it sounded watery in my throat. "If I'm crazy then that makes two of us. You wanted to marry me." Yep we're both batshit crazy.
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A/n: Quote= We are far from perfect, but we are good. ~Supernatural
Is it just me or does Jensen look fucking hot as Red Hood?! I'm mean he's definitely a reason to move to Gotham
Well first crossover AU in my bingo card
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thepixelelf · 3 years
Note
for the fake title game: wrecked
Title: Wrecked
Pairing: Junhui & Reader
Genres: angst, dystopia-ish au, android au, hanahaki-ish au
Words: 2.4k (00:10)
Notes: hoverport is my future-y word for flying car
Warnings: blood, implied major character death
-
In pretty much every sense of the word, the android you find off the corner of fifth and March is a wreck.
It's nothing you haven't seen before -- androids have always been like punching bags (or stress balls) to the more well-off that can afford to replace them. So it's really no surprise to find one nearly torn to shreds in the heart of the Ruby district, or, as you like to call it, rich bitch central.
The thing has been utterly decimated, and you almost pass it by on your routine nightly search for spare parts, but your eyes catch on its chest, where something bright pink shines through the damage. It looks beyond a lost cause, but... damn, is that a 301 New Gen processor? And, hold on... that's the new artificial skin grafting formula. Holy shit. This hunk of metal is the newest model of android available to the public -- if you can call the top 1% the public. (You don't.)
Quickly, you fumble for your phone in your pocket and scroll through your contacts.
"Jihoon? Sorry for waking you. Yeah. I need you to bring your truck."
-
It takes you over two months to fix the android to semi-working condition. Most of the time is sucked into finding the right parts -- or, at least, parts that might work as replacements for the insanely expensive parts you'd actually need. Luckily, most of the essential pieces were still intact, if not a little scratched up.
One of the arms was unsalvageable, so you scrapped it completely and replaced it with one you already had in the shop. It's not an ordinary android arm, though. You'd found it in another one of your searches some years ago and stripped it down to practice your patching and soldering on. It still works just fine -- you hope -- but the shiny grey surface looks harsh against the android's fancy grafted skin.
It's almost disorienting how real the new skin formula feels when you touch it. Imperfect.
You try not to linger on that.
Pressing your hands on both of the android's temples, you power it on. A quiet whirring fills your ears in the silence of the shop, and you drop your arms.
The android's eyes don't flutter when they open. You're met with two brown eyes, one slightly lighter since you had to replace that, too. It's less disorienting than you expected it to be. More warm.
Because as soon as the android's sensors process you in front of him, it smiles.
For a few seconds, you're completely entranced by its smile. Android smiles aren't supposed to look that... real. Right? You know tech designers have tried -- for years -- but you don't think one has ever looked as nice as this.
Not important.
You shake your head and clear your throat. "Commence startup," you say as clearly as possible.
"Commencing." Its voice isn't like you expected, either, though you don't really know what it is you were expecting. You watch silently as it stands impossibly straighter and closes its eyes for a few moments. "Startup complete." It opens its eyes and holds out its hand, palm up. "Please enter identification."
From your back pocket, you pull out your ID card and press it into the android's palm, waiting for the usual beep of recognition. The sound is softer than what you normally hear from retail androids.
"Understood," it says, dropping its arm to its side. "I am Android Model Number 6.81-4. I am happy to help." After that, it just stands still, its lips lifted in that warm smile.
This sounds slightly more like the androids you're used to. You're just thrown off by that weirdly realistic face.
"Do you have a name?" you ask, unable to remember the model number it just told you.
It blinks. "Unable to recall."
"Then commence data recovery, please."
"Commencing."
While you wait for the android to retrieve its memories -- which you hope goes smoothly, considering the not-so-hopeful condition of one of its memory chips -- you move around your shop and clean up a little. Jihoon will have your head if he comes to the morning shift and finds it in such a mess. Occasionally, you'll twist your head to peek at the android from across the room. Even though its expression is neutral while it processes its own data, you can't seem to erase that smile from your mind. The power of money, huh.
"Data recovery complete."
You pop up from where you were crouched down and rifling through some drawers. The android smiles at you from across the worktable. Just as you open your mouth to ask the same question you posed before, it does the same.
"My name is Junhui."
-
"Damn," Jihoon says, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coveralls. "He's beautiful."
"I know, right?" You watch Jihoon ogle Junhui, a huge, proud smile on your face. "I still can't believe I found him."
Junhui simply stands still under Jihoon's gaze. His signature smile has yet to go anywhere -- you're beginning to think it's his default expression.
"I don't know if you'll be able to sell him in this condition, though."
You frown. Before Jihoon said that, you weren't even considering selling Junhui -- you'd worked months on him, you couldn't just give him away. Still, it's a scratch at your pride to say that nobody would want to buy your hard work.
"Are you kidding? He works perfectly," you defend, even though you're not totally sure of that. You haven't gone through everything to check yet.
Jihoon shrugs. "Yeah, but with that arm and the grafting damage, what can he do better than a cheaper labour android?"
"Junhui."
The android looks at you, and his smile widens almost imperceptively. "Yes?"
"What features does your model have that previous models don't?"
He answers without hesitation. "Android Model Number 6.81-4 is, at the current time, the closest android model to a human being. I am able to comprehend emotional stimulants and react accordingly. My facial expressions are programmed to mimic that of a human's, and are more accurate than any pre-dating model. For example, when I am asked to process new data, I may furrow my brow and/or slightly open my mouth."
This is the first time you're hearing any of this, but you turn to Jihoon with a victorious smirk. "See?"
Jihoon isn't bothered by you. Instead, he looks intrigued as he eyes down Junhui. "Can you process human emotions?"
A blink. "Yes."
"Elaborate," Jihoon pushes.
"As I am able to comprehend emotional stimulants, I can come to a logical conclusion as to how a human would react to a certain stimulant. For example, 'death' is a stimulant for sadness."
Jihoon crosses his arms. "And you know what sadness is?"
"Yes." Both you and Jihoon are a little surprised by the way Junhui's lips turn down into a frown. It's almost like he's offended by Jihoon insinuating he doesn't know something -- must be one of the mimicked facial expressions he mentioned. You hold your breath at what he might say next. "Sadness is defined as the condition or quality of being sad."
The breath seeps out, and you can't tell if you're relieved or disappointed. It's a terrifying thought -- having machines so advanced as to understand human feelings. Yeah. You're relieved.
"Do you know what being sad is?" Jihoon continues to prod, and you're a bit concerned at how into this he is.
"Feeling or showing sorrow; unhappy."
"And happiness? What does that feel like?"
Junhui's frown deepens, and his brow furrows, just like he spoke about earlier. "I... know the stimulants which results in happiness."
"Then--"
"Jihoon." You put a stop to Jihoon's interrogation with a hand wrapped around his arm. "Stop. You're going to fry the processor I took weeks to figure out."
-
When you're alone with him, Jihoon whispers, "I'm sorry.
"I just don't like it. They keep making androids closer and closer to humans... it's not natural. It freaks me out."
You brush him off with a casual smile. "Yeah, yeah. Just go back to fixing your precious hoverports, why don'tcha?
-
After Jihoon heads home for the night, sore and grumpy after lying under hoverports all day, you decide to take Junhui back home with you. Before you turned him on, it was way too inconvenient, but now he can just walk alongside you.
It's mostly quiet on the walk back. You feel a lot safer under the blanket of night with Junhui next to you -- normally, the streets at night are more daunting.
"Were you going to sell me?"
Androids don't ask questions. You don't really process before you answer him.
"Nope."
Too busy stuck in your head, trying to understand why or even how Junhui asked you something so unlike any android you've ever interacted with, you don't notice the way Junhui's lips curl up or the word that slips quietly from him.
"Good."
-
You expect life with a brand new, better-than-the-rest android at home would be easy. Nope.
Every day, you learn something new about Junhui, and every time you do, he seems to act that much more human. It's scary at first, but you grow to get used to it -- his metal arm is a good reminder of what he is, even if his face doesn't show it.
-
It's a night like any other night that you cry.
Life sucks, and for one reason or another, you slam your apartment door behind you with tears streaming down your face.
Junhui approaches you at first with his usual smile, but it drops when he sees your condition. You'd feel cared for if you didn't know that's just in his programming.
What you're almost sure is not in his program is hugs.
But he's hugging you anyways.
"Junhui," you mumble, frozen in shock. "What are you doing?"
"Tears are a result of sadness."
"Okay but... what are you doing," you repeat.
His arms don't loosen at all around you. "My data says that humans respond well to this type of touch during moments of duress."
Well, he's not wrong. You don't mind this hug at all, but a thought tickles the back of your mind.
It's all in the data. None of this is real.
-
Of course, your heart doesn't care what your mind thinks.
You walk into the shop after a particularly stressful trade deal to find Jihoon standing next to the hoverport he's been working on.
"Where's Jun?"
Jihoon turns your way and smirks, pointing down at the floor beneath the hoverport. You walk closer and look around the worktable to see Junhui slide out from beneath the hoverport, grease smudged on the coveralls you got him when he started helping you around the shop. He smiles at you, big and bright, and oh fuck.
Not noticing your inner distress, Jihoon holds out a hand to help Junhui stand up -- not that he needs it.
"For an android, he's not too bad."
Not too bad indeed.
-
It starts as a tickle in your throat.
You think you know exactly what it is, but you brush it off as dehydration anyways, and when Junhui questions about it, you just ask him to pass your water bottle.
Jihoon doesn't say anything when you ask him to watch over Junhui the next day, thankful for the extra helping hands while you're out.
The first petals are grey.
Funny, you think. Unnatural flowers for your unnatural love.
Fuck.
-
You can't keep Junhui away for long. He comes home all on his own after three days of staying at the shop, and you don't even have the strength to greet him at the door.
Jihoon stopped accepting your flimsy excuses tonight, and he would've come back with Junhui if it weren't for his respect for your privacy -- one thing that Junhui doesn't have.
He finds you on the floor next to your bed, blood smeared over your chin and clothes.
"You're ill," he states simply as he sits you up. His expression turns into that of concern, and if it didn't hurt so bad, you might just laugh. Damn advanced programming -- making you think he actually cares.
"No shit."
The two words are all it takes for another coughing fit to rack through you, more painful than the last, as is the pattern you've suffered through in the past three days. Grey petals spew from your mouth, partially stained with red. Junhui's eyes dart to them, and you watch in tired amusement as he processes the information.
"Hanahaki disease," he identifies.
You want to say bingo, but you don't.
"My data says that the Hanahaki disease was eradicated over one hundred and fifty years ago."
"Yeah, well. My data--" You hold up stray petals in front of his face. "-- says otherwise. Runs in the family."
Junhui’s brow furrows. “Understood.” A few seconds pass, filled with only the low hum of Junhui’s engine and your shallow breaths. Your eyes are screwed shut from the pain. “I do not know how to help you.”
You didn’t think he would.
“Jun... you know what it’s like to want, right?”
He blinks. “No. Wanting is a human trait. I have no desires or needs.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” You see him frown and open his mouth, probably to tell you that he can’t be wrong, but you cut him off. “It might be a little different, but you have your own wants, Jun. Your programming makes you want to help me. That’s why you came home today even when I told you not to. You decided to come here on your own because you wanted to. Get it?”
You can almost see the metaphorical cogs spinning behind his eyes. “Understood.”
“What you don’t know is how to be selfish,” you tell him. “Humans want what we can’t have, and that’s what makes us weak.”
Junhui’s eyes glance over at the bloodstained petals once more.
“Hanahaki disease is caused by unrequited love. You are suffering because you want something you cannot have. Understood.”
You can tell he’s still searching his databases for ways to help you, but it’s no use -- too late for anything now.
“Are you in love with someone?” he asks.
You smile. “Yes. Madly.”
“Then stop.”
You laugh.
You laugh and you cry and you cry some more because you’re in love with a fucking robot and have flowers growing in your lungs.
“I want you to live.” It’s the first time he’s used that word. Want.
You look up at him. At his two brown eyes, one lighter than the other. At his fake skin and fake frown and fake heart. You want to bring your hand up to his cheek, but you don’t have the strength.
“Then I guess we both want things we can’t have.”
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