#i do need to just let it all go though bc it's just how it is and there are many worse situations to be in and i am very grateful for my
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Go Ahead & Cry (I’d Wipe Away All Your Tears)
incl.: nanami, choso, toji, gojo, geto, sukuna
summary: for a group of men who kill for a living, they’re awfully sweet… most of the time.
a/n: ngl i’m writing this bc i’m finally processing the US election results & i just… can’t deal. my heart goes out to all of you. pls take care of yourselves & enjoy the drabbles 🫶
Nanami
Nanami would be the first to notice something is off.
Whether you’re both at home and you’re just a bit too quiet, or he hasn’t heard from you by his lunch break while at work, something is distinctly off.
He wouldn’t be the nosy type, or the type to press. He’d bring home a sweet treat and a sentimental good (a potted flower, a stuffed animal, something that reminded him of you) without a word.
He wouldn’t pity you; far from it. And he’d never want to make you feel like that. So he’d leave the gifts on the coffee table and greet you with a kiss to the forehead, like always.
He’d sit in silence with you as if nothing was awry— allow you to feel your emotions. He’d put on a movie you like, something mindless and upbeat, without asking. Drag you to his chest and hold you there, keeping you warm and grounded in his touch.
If the waterworks start up, he’d rub your back with a large hand and press kisses to the part of your hair.
“That’s it. Get it out. I know.”
Choso
Choso is either too emotionally in-tune or completely clueless until the tears start.
But when he knows you’re upset, he feels it too.
He gets it wrong a lot of the time, at the beginning— tries to pry the cause out of you so he can minimize it. In his defence, he does it with good intentions; tries to help you see that the perceived threat is small in the greater scheme of things, that everything will work out.
But when the tears start welling, he knows he’s fucked up.
And god, is he so sweet trying to fix things.
“So sorry—“
He’d kiss the salty tears off your cheeks without hesitation.
“How do I make it stop?”
His bleeding heart is his biggest weakness and his greatest strength.
You wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, as he tries to make things up to you. Cooking (though he burns the bottom of the pan), cleaning (though he spills the food and has to clean again), and cuddles would be the itinerary.
Though he loves to be little spoon, he’d let you rest in his arms as long as you need it. And once you find a spot in his arms, he wouldn’t dare move.
Toji
Toji is not great with words. Or gifts. Or quality time, really.
Despite his best intentions, he always manages to fuck it up somehow. Usually by minimizing your feelings with a “what now?” or a “‘s not a big deal.” or a “nothin’ to cry over.”
It’s not his fault you cry over the little things & that you look so cute doing it. Those fat tears and reddened cheeks scratch the sadistic part of his brain so good.
That being said, he’s learned what you like over the years. Even stopped scoffing when he senses you’re feeling down.
No, he’s developed a plan.
At the first signs of distress (he’s gotten really good at recognizing these), he’s got you in his arms. If he’s at work, you better bet he’s speeding things up and hauling his ass back.
He wrestles you into his big clothes; don’t even think about fighting him on this. He wants you comfy and cozy. He’d be setting you up on the couch, dragging the comforter down from the bedroom to wrap you up. He’d sit there with you for hours, massaging your feet or calves and ordering food in. Your favourite fast food— and a whole lotta ice cream.
Don’t take advantage of his kindness though; he’s still Toji. Any snide comments, and he’d be quick to snap back.
“Shut up n’ let me take care of ya.”
Gojo
Gojo’s a little… misguided when cheering people up most of the time. That is, unless you find his goofy antics comforting.
He’s known for draping himself over shoulders obnoxiously, pinching and pulling cheeks, and light jabs that crack (only) him up.
When that doesn’t work, it’s a quick fix— thanks to the seemingly unending pit of his black card.
Gojo Satoru, at his core, is a gift giver.
Nothing pleases him more than sharing things with you that he thinks will bring you joy— whether that’s an expensive physical present or a luxurious vacation abroad.
He’s wrapped around your little fingers and a sniffle would have him buckling at the knees and fumbling for his wallet.
While this might look like a cop out— a way to get out of emotional intelligence duty— it’s just one part of his approach. The man is actually quite sensitive and understanding once you dig beneath the layers of persona. And he can be surprisingly mature— though he’d never want to show that side to most of the world.
He’d always listen to your yapping, validating your feelings— he’d take your side always. And he is a pro at shit-talking. At the end of it, you always come out feeling a little bit better. A little bit stronger.
You are the strongest together, after all.
Geto
Suguru is a problem-solver.
He’d sit and motion for you to lay your head on his thighs. Long elegant fingers would make gentle work of your roots and scalp, and the tension would be melting away. When you’re relaxed enough to breathe, he’d want to hear all the venting.
“Now do you want solutions or just my ear?”
He’s your rock; always puts things into perspective if you ask. He’s always got advice— though sometimes clouded by bias. Still, it’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of. Someone who actually listens.
Understands.
The flipside, however, is the darkness you find in him. He understands what to do because he’s hurt too. You can see it in the way he carries himself, in the bags under his eyes and the shake of his hands on the bad days.
But you care for him like he cares for you— braid his hair back, let him talk it out, gift whatever advice you can muster.
And as soon as you’re both feeling better, you’d be getting crêpes with the girls.
Sukuna
The King of Curses does not understand human sadness.
Perhaps he had empathy for it, centuries ago, before he became the Two-faced Spectre.
But now, seeing you upset, all he can think of is how pathetic tears look in reddened eyes.
He’d wipe them away with a big thumb, clicking his tongue.
“Unsightly, pathetic little thing.”
Yet, the way he speaks down to you holds a softness. A protective nature he rarely gives voice to.
He’d treat you like a porcelain doll; a prized possession. No measure was inconvenient when it came to appeasing you— though he’d be quick to reprimand entitlement. And vehemently deny any sort of feeling towards you.
When the tears come, he’d be signalling for Uraume to draw a bath and cook your favourite. You’d find your room tidied, trinkets left on the foot of your bed as if dragged in by a wild animal— an ornate dagger, gold jewellery, incense.
He wasn’t one to demonstrate affection— but he’d keep you close on the tough days. Whether it be making a seat for you on one of his hulking thighs or allowing you to sleep in his quarters, he’d allow you to do as you please.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk headcanons#jjk sukuna#sukuna ryomen#choso kamo#jjk choso#jjk geto#suguru geto#geto suguru#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#fushiguro toji#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#jjk nanami#nanami kento#kento nanami#ryomen sukuna#kamo choso#nanami x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader
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Crash Course in Love • 3
pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, tension, bad communication skills, heartbreak, hangover, doubts, emotional rollercoaster, fight against nature, being stranded, crying, verbal fighting and screaming, explicit sexual content, bit of dry humping, fingering, scissoring, unprotected sex, breast play, hickeys, scratch marks, love bites, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 15.3k
a/n: i'm absolutely knackered now, completely worn out. BUT it was sooooo worth it lol hope y'all enjoy it to the fullest bc next update probably won't be until the new year...sooooo...have funnnn!
a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕
01 • 02 • masterlist • 04
Day 4
“Fuck.”
You think you’ve woken up in hell—it must be—because, oh god, you feel like death. Your eyes are crusted shut, and you can’t feel your legs. But as you rub the sleep out of your eyes and prop yourself up on your elbows, you realise it’s just Namjoon lying across them, snoring away.
You try to take in the room, piecing together the hazy puzzle of last night. The party, the song, you running off only to drown yourself with Yoongi and Namjoon in alcohol, throwing your own little after-party. You remember crying, remember singing your heart out to sad love songs blaring through Dionysus. What a fucking mess you’ve become…
But after all that chaos, there’s only blackness. And seeing Yoongi and Namjoon still here with you in the suite, all of you fully dressed and reeking of alcohol, tells you enough. And as you groan, not just from the bottomless pit of stupidity, but from the pounding in your head, you let yourself collapse back onto your pillow.
You fight back another wave of tears, wishing the last 24 hours could just be erased, wishing you were back at home. You fumble blindly for your phone, finding it on the nightstand nearby.
2:56 p.m.
Just brilliant. Though, at least you’re spared from spending the whole day on the slopes. Not that you’d be able to walk straight with how you’re feeling, but a win’s a win.
You need to get up, though, so you start stirring both men awake. Yoongi’s not blocking you, but if you’re up, he has to be as well. Much to your surprise, both of them wake without protest, getting themselves into a sitting position on the bed, looking like zombies straight out of The Walking Dead. You reckon you look about the same.
“Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles as you begin massaging some blood back into your legs, which feel like they’re fighting for dear life.
“S’alright,” you croak out, unable to manage much more.
“Painkillers.” Yoongi just sits there, staring at his blanket, the rise and fall of his chest the only proof he’s still alive, though barely.
You and Namjoon both nod, but no one actually moves until, eventually, Namjoon rises—slowly, hands leaving the mattress only at the last second before he somehow straightens up and makes his way to the door, though it’s anything but a straight line.
You’re the second to get up, staggering into the bathroom to wash off everything clinging to you. You’re not sure if it’s just dried sweat or a bit of alcohol still on your skin, though you have a vague memory of Tae pouring something over your back. Either way, you’re in desperate need of a full shower to feel human again.
The only upside to this hangover is that your mind has finally shut up. Every bit of energy is focused on basic bodily functions, like breathing without throwing up and blinking your bloodshot eyes now and then. You’re not even fazed when Yoongi stumbles in, taking a piss that seems to go on forever; he clearly couldn’t give a fuck, and neither can you.
When you’ve finished rinsing your hair and are wrapped in a towel that’s too soft to absorb any actual moisture, you quietly switch places with Yoongi, both of you unintentionally making a point not to make eye contact.
You’re not entirely sure why you’re still here—not just in this town but on this entire trip. There’s no real drive left in you to give Jungkook closure, no fight in you at all, and definitely no desire to ever see him again.
So, you decide to get the hell out of here. Not right this second, no, your blood alcohol is likely still sky-high and will take a nosedive soon, taking you down with it, but tomorrow, you’re leaving. It’s the healthiest thing you could do, because frankly, you lost Jungkook years ago, and that realisation sobers you up more than anything else could.
It doesn’t stir the same emotions it once did as you pull Jungkook’s old hoodie out of your luggage—or maybe you’re just too tired to care—as you tug the oversized black fabric over your head, the only comfortable thing you’d brought on this trip. Some leggings on, with your phone stuffed into the front pocket of the hoodie, you make your way to the main area, letting your eyes roam to maybe spot your missing phone case.
Jungkook’s already lounging in a single armchair, poking absently at the fire with an iron stick, his gaze tracking you as you move around the room. But you ignore him. It’s not like you’re being petty this time, and he can probably tell from your posture that you’re just not in the mood to interact at all.
You’re especially glad he doesn’t mention your—or rather, his—hoodie, and when you give up the search, realising the case isn’t lying around here either, you shuffle over to the sofa, collapsing onto it and immediately pulling out your phone. Scrolling through YouTube, you pull the hoodie’s hood down a bit further to block out Jungkook entirely, settling on a spa video promising a very satisfying blackhead extraction.
If your life’s this miserable, you’re at least going to give yourself this kind of satisfaction, even if it’s short-lived. And anyway, there are millions of similar videos waiting for you and your lonely ass.
Namjoon emerges midway through your video, nudging your legs to make space for him. You shift, but only to let your legs settle in his lap as soon as he sits down.
“Here,” he offers, handing you two painkillers, which you take like they’re sweets, chewing them up so they might kick in faster. He pulls a disgusted face, but it quickly fades—probably can’t be bothered to waste any energy as well.
“Jimin brought food,” Jungkook breaks the silence, still poking at the fire. “Should I get you some?”
You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or Namjoon, but you answer anyway. “I’m good, thanks.”
Maybe he expected a different answer, as his stick pauses for a moment, but you couldn’t care less. The chance to talk things out has passed, along with your will. It’s on him now. You’ve seen and heard enough.
“Why did you leave the party so early?” he tries again.
“It was because of me, I just—”
You cut Namjoon off; he really doesn’t need to do this for you. “Stop lying, I wanted to leave, and Namjoon and Yoongi didn’t want me to be alone.”
“Why?”
You pause your video, turning to meet Jungkook’s eyes. He’s bouncing his leg and chewing on his lip ring again, but it’s not your problem if he’s anxious or whatever. “None of your business.”
Namjoon gives your knee a slight squeeze, and while Jungkook turns his attention back to the flames like you’re the one who’s hurt him, he can go fuck himself. You’re not dealing with him right now. Not when he’s got Hara pregnant and sings love songs for her.
Yoongi enters at that moment, settling into the armchair beside Jungkook and just managing to catch the two painkillers Namjoon tosses his way.
Silence returns, and you restart your video, losing yourself in the meditative extractions.
“Can I get a haaaawyeah?!” Tae bursts into the hostel, bringing Hope and Hara with him. Three of the four present groan in agony at the sudden noise, and you’re one of them. Still, you shift to sit up, making room for them to join.
You’re not sure why Hara chooses to sit next to you, quietly handing over a takeaway box of food with that warm, familiar smile of hers—you know it’s got to be from Jin’s.
“I’m not hungry,” you mumble, the bite you had a few minutes ago already feeling like it never had been there to begin with.
“Please, eat something. Your body needs it.”
She’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to even lift the lid, staring blankly at it as if it’ll somehow reveal yet another surprise you’re not ready for. You know it’s not Hara’s fault you’re feeling like this, or that Jungkook chose her, but right now, all you can feel is bitterness, and her kindness only multiplies it.
Almost unconsciously, you glance up and find Jungkook’s eyes fixed on you, his leg still bouncing lightly, clearly tuned out from the lively conversation between the other guys.
You’ve kept this empty space in your heart reserved for him for so long, never realising he’d never fill it again. You just don’t have the energy for this anymore, the will to keep playing his game where he pulls you back into his world only to remind you you’re no longer really part of it. Not properly.
You wonder if Jungkook even realises what he’s doing, if he has any clue about how his actions come across. Or maybe he’s just as stuck as you, caught up in his patterns and too blind to see beyond them. The care and worry in his eyes when he looks at you, when he notices you making poor choices for your health—maybe, you reason, it’s just because he doesn’t know how to be any other way and nothing more.
But that’s the thing about Jungkook: he genuinely cares. And that’s why he’s going to be the best dad on this earth—just not to your children.
“I’m really not hungry.” You think you see Jungkook’s jaw tick just a bit, but he again chooses to say nothing, his gaze, though, never wavering from you.
“I didn’t mean to, but damn, that woman was something else,” Tae bursts, sprawled on the floor in front of you, accidentally nudging your knee as he laughs with the others.
“Who?” you ask, trying to tune into the conversation just to get away from the other.
“That woman who was sitting by the bar all night. Tae pulled her,” Hope bursts out laughing, especially at your disgusted, shocked face.
“Was she any good?” Namjoon inquires, like it’s the most normal thing to ask about a one-night stand.
“What can I say? She taught me things I didn’t even know existed.”
Yep, that info’s enough to make you gag for real, and judging by Yoongi and Jungkook’s expressions, they’re feeling the same.
“Want some?” you offer Yoongi the box, hoping to steer the conversation away from…whatever this is. But he just shakes his head, clearly not ready to risk upsetting his stomach as well.
He’s pale as it is, and you can see the colour drain from his already bloodshot eyes at the sight of food. Poor man.
“Jungkook, you hungry?” Hara offers softly, and you can’t help but glance at him again.
His bouncing leg stills the instant she speaks to him. And even though it’s true—Jungkook can eat like a bottomless pit, never saying no to food—you don’t really want to interact with him right now. But, some things haven’t changed at all it seems, like you not being able to say no when it comes to him.
Jungkook looks at you with those big, hopeful eyes, as if to say just eat it yourself—he’d never, like all those years ago, take food from you when it’s clear you’re barely eating yourself. But you just can’t, and with that, you get up, lean over the small coffee table separating you both, and offer him the box with both hands, a small, shaky smile on your face.
Jungkook stands up too, reaching for the food between you. You think he’ll just take it, but his hands cover yours, brushing over them until they settle on the container, and then, finally, he takes it. It catches you off guard, not just because he touched you first and not the box, but because it was absolutely deliberate.
Why he did it, you don’t know, but all you can think about is getting away fast before all your bottled-up emotions explode in your face.
“Can…uh…can someone drive me to the nearest petrol station?” you ask, standing there rooted to the spot, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as everyone looks up at you.
Jungkook’s half a mind to put the box back on the table and get up again, but Hope springs up from his spot beside Taehyung, fishing his keys from his pocket. “I’ve got you.”
“Thanks, I’ll just get ready.” You cast him a quick, grateful look and head to your room, eyes down.
Hope just saved you there, because if Jungkook had offered to drive, you don’t know what you’d have done. Sure, you want him to be happy—you’re not some heartless person who wishes bad things on people, especially those who are…were…close to you.
But what about your happiness? Don’t you deserve to find peace too? To protect yourself? So yes, you’ll take every bit of help you can get, even if it’s just a lift to the petrol station.
You didn’t mean to startle so violently when you turned to close the suite door, but honestly, you hadn’t even heard Hara following you, moving soundlessly like a ghost.
“C…can I help you?” You’re gripping the door until your knuckles turn white under your sweater paws, the door not even fully open anymore.
“Can I come in?”
It’s like something out of a nightmare, knowing you can’t turn her away just because Hara’s never done anything to hurt you. You have to remind yourself again and again that she’s not the villain here, chanting it silently in your head, trying to drown out the hurt that won’t go away whenever you look at her.
So, you nod, opening the door a bit wider, then turn around to let her in and busy yourself with “looking” for your phone case, just so you don’t have to face her.
“Are you okay?”
Her words break through the sound of the bedding as you give it a shake, hoping your case might fall out, but of course it doesn’t. Just like the right answer isn’t coming to you now, not to her question.
Maybe you’re okay, as okay as you can be. Maybe you’re not. Either way, you’re definitely not making her your therapist—not when she’s involved in all this stupid mess.
“Yeah, sure. Are you?”
“Yeah, the sickness finally went away. I just hope I start to show soon—it’s getting weird at this point.”
You move around the room, checking every corner, stopping only when you spot an edge of your phone case outside on the porch, half-buried in the snow beside the jacuzzi.
“How far along are you?”
“Seventeenth week…we’ll find out the gender soon.” There’s a subtle cheer in her voice that makes your heart soften for a moment.
It must be incredible to be expecting, especially to finally know the baby’s gender and go a bit mad with shopping. You’re sure you’d be the same, and Hara likely will be, too.
You glance her way, offering a small, warm smile before opening the door to the porch. “Got a feeling what it’ll be?”
Hara comes closer to the door as you step outside, staying in the warmth while leaning against the frame. “Yes? No? Maybe?” She laughs. “Some days I swear it’s a boy, and then others I’m convinced it’s a girl. Tomorrow’s the appointment, so…I hope mini-me reveals its gender and isn’t shy.”
You giggle, fishing the icy case out of the snow and brushing off the clinging flakes. As you come back inside, Hara moves aside, settling herself on the edge of the bed while you grab a discarded shirt of Yoongi’s to dry the case off.
“Hey…uh…I don’t quite know how to start this, but…I know you’re not doing alright.”
The glance you throw her way is wary rather than hostile, but still, you don’t want a pep talk from her.
“Please, just talk to each other.”
Biting your lip, you really don’t want to say anything. Yes, you probably should talk to Jungkook, but then again, maybe you shouldn’t. He’s had countless chances to say something, to open up if he had any thoughts at all—and he’s used none of them. Not even when you broke up with him. He stayed silent, like he is now.
Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk, not really, and you’re done waiting and being the one to start things.
“There’s nothing left to talk about. But I appreciate your concern.”
Hara just nods, staring down at the floor, rubbing her hands together between her knees while you pull on your coat and tuck your phone safely into its case.
“It’s a nice case. Did you paint it yourself?”
You glance at your phone, rubbing your thumb over the faded paint that was once so bright. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it after the breakup, even though it reminds you of everything good about your time with Jungkook. Maybe there’s some masochistic streak in you that wants to punish yourself for everything you did and didn’t do. Maybe it’s time to let go of all the memories that keep pulling you back to a time that’s long gone.
“No.” You sigh, tucking it away in your coat pocket with your purse and heading to the door. You pause with your hand on the handle, checking to see if Hara’s following, which she is. She’s right behind you again, and this time, you just let out a startled scream internally, hoping you don’t flinch too visibly.
Opening the door, you let her pass first, just to keep her in your sight this time, but as soon as you’re near the entrance to the main area, she stops, raising a hand. You give her a puzzled look, but she only points to one of her ears, so you lean in, trying to make out what’s being said.
First, you catch the voices of Taehyung and Namjoon, Taehyung’s voice too loud and distinct not to notice. But when you listen a bit harder, you pick up Hope and Jungkook having a different conversation, probably a little further from the others.
“I know! I know you’re a good driver. Just…”
“Just? C’mon, what’s going on with you, C?”
“Just… take care of her, okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re acting like I’m some boy who’s just got his licence and can’t be trusted—”
The rustling of your coat drowns out the rest of their conversation as you step into the room, deciding not to eavesdrop any longer. You glance around briefly, and of course, Jungkook’s eyes find yours again, but you quickly turn towards Yoongi, resting your hands on his shoulders from behind where he’s still slouched on the one-seater. He wraps his hand around your wrist, his thumb gently brushing over your pulse.
“Why was my case out in the snow?” you murmur into his ear, which earns a lazy laugh from him. He peeks over his shoulder at you, his voice still raspy from his hangover as he murmurs back.
“You thought you could yeet it away and be done with it.”
Your cheeks go warm again; drunk-you is really ridiculous in every possible way. You’re just grateful it was only Namjoon and Yoongi who saw your breakdown, and no one else.
“Right.”
“Stay safe, yeah?”
He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze, and when your eyes meet again, even though his are still glassy from last night’s antics, there’s that quiet care in them only real family can have.
“I will. Thanks for being there for me, Yoongs.” You press a quick kiss to his head and give him a brief squeeze around his shoulders, only for him to dramatically fake his own demise.
Straightening up, you meet Hope’s eyes, give him a quick nod, and head towards the door. Jungkook moves with the two of you, holding the door open without taking his eyes off you. His gaze is so intense that you can’t keep eye contact, mumbling a quiet, hurried “thanks” and “bye” as you follow Hope to his car.
You wouldn’t have thought Hope would drive a brand-new car, especially a vibrant red one. You wonder if an equipment rental shop really makes that much of a profit or if everyone in this town is just batshit rich. At least you’ll be safe—much safer than you’d be with Tony.
“So, how long’s the drive?” you ask, taking in the car’s interior while buckling up in the passenger seat. You notice the soft leather under your bum and the chrome trim around the touchscreen on the console.
“Maybe twenty or thirty minutes, depends on whether the roads are clear or still covered in snow.”
You hum in acknowledgment, tucking your hands under your thighs—not only because they’re still cold from the short walk outside, but also to avoid the urge to touch anything and risk breaking something you’d never be able to replace.
The car’s rolling down the steep hill you came from a few days ago in no time, and Hope’s both hands are steady on the wheel, which helps you relax in your seat. He’s definitely a good driver, like Yoongi, Jungkook, or your dad—the kind you can actually relax around without fearing for your life.
“So…would you be a kind soul and tell me what you’re all talking about in that group chat, especially about me?”
Of course you had to ask—why wouldn’t you, now that you’re alone with someone who’s clearly in on the whole scheme?
“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”
“Dunno…maybe because of Namjoon.”
“Oh, I’m not scared of him.” Hope laughs heartily, but his eyes don’t stray from the dark, snow-covered road ahead.
“Sooo…?”
“So, you should just talk to C. That’s what we’re all talking about.”
“Wow, wouldn’t have thought of that.”
“So why’re you asking if that’s not the answer you wanted?”
You fall silent.
“Listen. You and C are both hurting. And the only way forward is for you both to learn how to communicate properly, aka talk to each other.”
“There’s really nothing left to talk about.”
“Why’s that?”
“He’s clearly moved on, no?”
Like, duh.
“Has he now?”
Duh?…
“Yeah, with Hara…and the baby on its way.”
Were you wrong all this time? It can’t be.
“Oh, boy…”
“Don’t ‘oh boy’ me.”
“Why do you think he’s with Hara?”
You’re trying not to show how hard it is to think clearly in your state, but the time it takes you to respond says it all. “It’s obvious.”
“Is it? Because it sounds like you’re seeing things how you want to, not how they actually are.”
“Rude.”
“It’s true.”
“You’re really forward for someone I barely know.”
“We’re not strangers, __.” Hope side-eyes you pointedly, making you scoot a tiny bit deeper into your seat.
“Basically, we are.”
“No, we’re not friends yet, but we’re not strangers either.”
So what does this mean for you and Jungkook? He’s not exactly a friend anymore, but he’s not a stranger either. Or…maybe he is. God, your brain feels like it’s about to explode any minute now.
“People change, Hope. Jungkook’s changed.”
Hope lets a short silence settle between you, his fingers tapping softly against the leather wheel as if he’s thinking about what to say next. Only now do you realise there’s no sound from the engine, and you clock that he’s driving an electric car—even though he lives in the mountains, in the cold.
“Have you?”
You’re half-tempted to just say yes, but is that really true? You’re not sure. Maybe you’ve matured a bit, but not enough to feel like a different person. What you do know for sure is that any growth you might have had stopped the moment you left Jungkook. You’ve been so caught up in trying to heal and be someone you’re not that you haven’t really evolved into the person you could have been.
Anything really—maybe a better person, but somehow still the same you. So, what have you become in the last few years? Are you the same? Or not quite?
“Not sure.”
Hope just nods, not as if he’s simply acknowledging what you said, but as if he already knew your answer. It’s uncanny how much talking to him reminds you of Yoongi, both of them having that same no-bullshit approach.
“Listen, I’m not here to play mediator,” yep, definitely like Yoongi, “nor are the others. You need to talk to him, get things sorted before it’s too late.”
“What if it’s already too late?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You’re so positive.” You whine pathetically.
“And you’re a chronic pessimist.” He mimics you.
“I’m just cautious.” You pull your hands from under your thighs and throw them in the air, more to get your point across than anything.
“No, you’re scared of what might never happen.”
Ouch. But he’s not…not right.
“I’m not. I’m doing snowboarding now, aren’t I?”
“So why are we heading to the nearest petrol station if you’re meant to be snowboarding all week?”
You shut your mouth and slide your hands back under your thighs, as if that might help you disappear. Maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought, and not only Hope but everyone else—including Jungkook—has seen right through you. Is that why Hara wanted to talk to you earlier? Urging you to finally talk to Jungkook?
“Gotcha,” Hope giggles slightly, though when he sees your sad pout, he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel.
“Alright, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” Okay, maybe not exactly like Yoongi. “But from what I’ve seen and heard, you liked snowboarding. And I’d say you probably enjoyed everything else you’ve done before, too.” He glances over at you. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”
You just give a noncommittal shrug.
“You need to trust yourself and your capabilities a bit more. Start having faith in the positive outcomes, not just the negative ones, yeah? You’ll never be able to live without fear if you overthink everything…especially things with Jungkook.”
Your pout deepens, a light sheen of tears coating your lashes, which you tell yourself are just from the hangover crashing down on you now, not from facing the uncomfortable truth of your very persona.
“I know it’s hard, ___. But sometimes thinking the worst makes it real, even though the outcome could’ve been different if you’d just had a bit more faith.”
“Are you talking about snowboarding or Jungkook?”
“Both.” He giggles again, and you can’t help but join in, sniffing your nose a little.
When just then another small town and the petrol station come into view, you straighten up in your seat, realising you’d been slouching more and more throughout the drive.
Even though you’re not looking forward to stepping outside into the cold, you’re glad for a bit of a cooldown, just to ease your exhaustion.
Hope parks his car right next to the petrol pump, and as soon as he turns it off, you both get out and head to the boot where two big empty canisters are waiting.
“Here, I’ll go to the one right behind this one.” He offers you one of the canisters, and while you take it, you’re still confused.
“I only need one, though.”
He’s already unscrewed his, pumping petrol as he leans to the side to look at you.
“Yeah, this one’s for me.”
You’re still confused, but you start filling your canister anyway.
“Isn’t your car electric?”
“Yeah, but I need emergency petrol for the generator in case there’s an outage and the baby’s coming.”
You freeze. Is Hope…? Oh god, you were so wrong all this time. Relief floods through you, so intense that tears spring to your eyes. Jungkook’s not the baby daddy.
“You’re Hara’s baby daddy?” you squeak.
“Gosh, no!”
And now you think you might throw up, the tears shifting back to the heartbreak of yesterday.
“Areum, my wife, she’s seven months pregnant. You missed her yesterday with your epic escape.”
“Oh. Uh, congratulations.”
But you only hear a snort from behind the pump.
Not wanting to fill the canister completely, you settle on half, afraid you might not have enough left in your bank account. You’re not exactly broke, but you’re worried your employer hasn’t transferred your pay on time. Again.
“I’m off to pay,” you mumble as you pass Hope and head into the small, warm station, where a young teenager plagued with acne stands behind the counter, his eyes barely lifting from his phone throughout your whole exchange.
“Your card’s declined, miss.”
The remaining colour drains from your face at his words. This really can’t be happening.
“Could you…could you try again, please?”
The teenager just rolls his eyes, and if you weren’t so mortified, you’d probably give him some shit for being so rude. But again, the familiar sound of your card being declined fills the little station, and when he hands your card back, you just mumble, “Just a second, please,” before stepping to the far corner by the cooling systems and getting your phone out.
And sure enough, your banking app shows you’re completely drained. Fuck. So there’s only one option left, then.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up.”
“Yo,” Yoongi grumbles, and you’re pretty sure you can hear Jungkook’s panicked voice in the background, asking what’s happened.
“I need your help,” you whisper, glancing over at the teenager to check if he can hear, but he’s already engrossed in his phone again.
“What do you need?”
“I’m short on cash. I can’t pay—”
“Why?”
Yoongi’s tone isn’t accusatory in the slightest, just genuinely surprised. Hope comes into the station now too, cocking a brow at you, which you try to ease with a shaky smile.
“My employer’s late with my pay. Again. And the trip and, uh…it all just…”
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, flat, almost monotone, but you know he feels awful now, realising you’re actually struggling, not just joking around. It’s not his fault though; you never talk about money, and maybe he’s apologising not just because he let you pay for everything, but because you haven’t had these conversations before.
“S’alright. Can you just transfer some money quickly so I can—”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you.”
You hear him sigh—one that says, Don’t make this a thing now. Hope’s already paid for his, waiting by the door with his hands in his pockets, scanning some nearby magazines.
Knowing not to waste any more time, you hang up, open your banking app again, and refresh it every few seconds until there it is: a transfer of ten fucking thousand dollars from Yoongi, with the note, Should’ve told me sooner.
You make a mental note to give him a piece of your mind regarding the sum later as you pay for the petrol, and dash out of the station, dragging Hope with you to escape the embarrassment as soon as possible.
“Slow down, will you?”
You let go of his arm once you’re by his car, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration as you mumble, “Sorry. God, I’m such a mess.”
“Come on, we’ll talk in the car. I just wanna get home.”
And you do, silently, closing your eyes as the car winds through the woods back the way you came.
You know Hope doesn’t want to pressure you, but you want to talk about it, just because bottling it up any longer would fry your brain.
“My employer still hasn’t transferred my pay,” you mumble. “I had to call Yoongi to borrow money.”
Hope lets out a long breath through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he listens.
“Again, as in this isn’t the first time?”
“Yeah, as in he owes me several thousand dollars by now.”
“Thousands?”
You tap your knuckle against the window, doing a quick mental tally of how much has piled up since you started working for this guy. “About fifty. Maybe a bit more.”
“No. Fucking. Way.” Hope glances over at you with each word, then back to the road. “___, that’s insane. Fifty thousand?! Why haven’t you sued him? Or quit?”
“I…” Yeah, good question. “I actually don’t know.”
It’s not like it’s a brilliant job worth hanging on to, but working from home has its perks, and finding another role in your field? That’s practically impossible without connections, which you definitely don’t have, seeing as you work from home and have done for years.
“You’re an accountant, yeah?”
“How do you know?” you ask, stopping your gentle tapping against the window to look over at his profile.
“Oh, who d’you think told me?” He gives you a side-eye, looking slightly annoyed, and you just nod. “Areum’s an accountant too. She works for PwC, all remote. They’re looking for someone to cover her on maternity leave, and she gets to pick who fills in for her, soooo…”
“Sooo…?”
“Woman, I’m not spelling it out for you. You’re not that thick.”
Ouch. “Hey! Stop being so rude to me.”
“Then stop acting daft when you’re not.”
God, you want to strangle him. No wonder he gets along so well with Yoongi. You thought he was just this little ray of sunshine with that stupid bright laugh, but he’s feisty as hell.
“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, knowing decisions like this aren’t made right now, especially as the painkillers wear off and your mind’s about to shut down along with your eyelids.
Eventually, sleep takes over, and if you’re honest, you don’t bother fighting it.
“___, wake up.” Hope’s voice and the gentle push of his hand against your shoulder rouse you not long after. And even though sleeping, even just a bit, should have done you some good, you feel worse after a fifteen-minute nap.
Reluctantly, you straighten in your seat, trying to wake up properly, and smack your lips to get the awful taste off your tongue, but it’s no use. You’ll need to brush your teeth as soon as you’re in the suite—there’s no way around it.
“Thanks for driving me,” you rasp, glancing out of the windscreen to see Jungkook hopping from one foot to the other in the cold, his breath rising in small clouds in front of him. “What’s he doing outside?”
“He’s waiting for you.”
“Oh.”
It’s a mystery why Jungkook would do that, seeing as you’re clearly not on good terms. You’ve been trading jabs and whatnot with every interaction, so the fact that he’s not fed up by now is really baffling.
“I’m heading straight home if that’s okay.”
“Oh. Sure, yes, of course, sorry.” You unbuckle your seatbelt, knowing you shouldn’t overstay your welcome, especially as Hope is snickering again. “Thanks again and goodnight.”
“Goodnight. And…talk to him.”
Well, you don’t really have a choice now. Especially when, after closing the passenger door, you walk to the boot to get your half-empty canister, only to find Jungkook already beside you.
“Here, let me help.”
He doesn’t meet your eyes this time, which feels strange after he spent all afternoon staring at you.
“I’ve got this.”
You heft the canister out of the boot and start walking straight to Tony to fill him up, letting the canister rest by your legs, you wave Hope off as he drives away, then clear the side of Tony of snow.
“What are you doing?” Jungkook stands beside you, arms crossed, chest puffed out. He looks intimidating—hotly so—but you’re still pissed and very much not in the mood for a chat.
“What does it look like?”
He just shrugs with a smirk, and as you finish clearing the snow, you realise you’ve done the wrong side of Tony.
How embarrassing.
“Don’t say anything.”
And he doesn’t, aside from a quiet snicker as he follows you to the other side, where you finally start clearing the right bit of snow. This time, you find the cap and pull out your car keys to open it.
Ignoring your wishes, Jungkook picks up the canister and starts pouring the petrol into the car, biting his lip piercings again.
“Talk,” you snap, wanting to get this over with—whatever it is that’s bothering him so much he’s biting his lip bloody.
Jungkook glances briefly at you, and while you’ve seen that sad expression on him countless times, it still stings.
“Why did you leave?”
You sigh, glance towards the hostel, and look back at him. “When? When I broke up with you? On the slope yesterday? From the party? Or to the petrol station?”
Alright, it sounded cooler in your head, but you’re now realising you might have a bit of a tendency to run off. Oops.
“All of them, I guess.” He muses, shutting the cap and screwing the canister lid back on as he turns to you fully.
“Jungkook, that’s a conversation I’m not having with you right now.”
“And when would be the best time for it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not outside, not in the middle of the night, not when I’m batshit hungover, and especially not when you’ve built a new life for yourself.”
That last bit wasn’t really what you wanted to say, but it slipped out anyway, the perfect proof that it’s indeed not the best time.
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s not fair for you to treat me like this, Jungkook. I’m not doing this anymore.”
You turn while watching him run a hand through his hair, then stomp through the deep snow towards the hostel to stop yourself freezing out here.
“Stop running away!”
“I’m not running away. I’m going to bed. You should too.”
Jungkook catches the door at the last second and steps into Dionysus right behind you.
“You are running away.”
You turn to face him sharply, causing him to nearly bulldoze into you, but he catches himself in time, stepping back a bit with his hands on his hips, still clutching the canister in his reddened hand.
“Why did you need petrol for Tony, who’s been out of it for days? Why now?”
You purse your lips, mirroring his stance instinctively, staring each other down. You’re stubborn, but so is he, and you’re not backing down. He wants to start a fight? See who breaks first? See if you’re really running away from him? Well, you’ll prove him wrong.
“Safety. Caution. Responsibility. Take your pick.”
There’s a familiar glint in his eyes—the one that says he knows you’re bullshitting him. God, you’ve missed this. Missed him.
“So, not fleeing the scene, hm?”
“Not fleeing the scene.”
And you’re not. Change of plans: you’re staying. You’ll stay, and you’ll whoop his ass by becoming the best snowboarder on the planet.
Jungkook just nods, and you nod back.
Usually, this would be the moment he’d tackle you and fuck the truth out of you in no time. And though you can vividly picture it, you need to keep your distance. So before the tension builds too much, before Jungkook becomes too much, you stop nodding and let your arms drop to your sides.
“Goodnight, Jungkook.”
He mirrors your stance, and though his eyes dim with that usual sadness, you refuse to see it as longing. Because why would he?
“Goodnight, ___.”
You nod, and while you can’t quite tear yourself away from his gaze, you eventually turn and head up to your suite, finding Yoongi already silently and fast asleep, you can’t help but to leave a tiny gap in the door, just enough to watch as Jungkook disappears into his own room.
Day 5
You feel good.
No, scratch that—you feel absolutely pumped, energised, and oh-so-ready for the day. There’s a wild fire blazing through your veins, just waiting to be unleashed, and you’re absolutely down for it.
Sitting alone in the dining room after that little talk with Yoongi about the sum he transferred to your bank account, only to be met with an eye roll in response, you’re busy preparing the most protein-packed breakfast Namjoon’s buffet has on offer. You’ll definitely need it—not just because your body’s craving nutrients, but because your brain needs to be at its best so you can finally beat Jungkook at his own game.
No, not with his petty remarks and actions, but by getting your answers with carefully placed, strategically even, questions so he doesn’t even realise you’re grilling him. You’re brilliant, so of course you can pull this off. The sulky victim era of ___ is over—here comes the new, improved you.
Though, if you’re honest, you know there’s a pretty decent chance that Jungkook might catch on to your plan. He’s always been good at that, always been just as brilliant as you. But his competitive side usually has you beat by the end of the day. But not today. Today, you’re determined to win.
Especially when the man himself strolls in, looking sinfully good. His hair’s damp, falling messily over his forehead and eyes, while his thin white shirt hangs loosely off his shoulders, clinging slightly to his skin where he didn’t dry off properly.
“Morning, Kook,” you chirp, practically singing it, intentionally calling him by the nickname you lovingly gave him all those years ago.
Jungkook slows his steps, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed. The confusion’s painted all across his face exactly as you’d hoped. Excellent.
“Morning.” He stops at your table, glancing at the empty chairs next to you and opposite you, and when he takes the one right beside you, you’re doing a little celebratory dance on the inside.
“Did you sleep well, Kook?” He eyes you as he gets his plate ready, and while he answers, you take a small bite of your food, your overly cheerful grin firmly in place.
“Uh, yeah, did you?”
“Of course! Snuggly kept me company all night.”
The confusion in Jungkook’s eyes deepens, and you’d give anything to know what’s running through his head right now. You keep your face just as innocent and cheerful as possible, though it’s getting harder by the second.
“So, what’ve you been up to these past five months?” If your math’s right, Hara’s now a little over four months along. So, if Jungkook was around back then, you’ve got your answer.
“Five months?” He raises an eyebrow again, biting into the sandwich he’s just thrown together. There’s far more ham than bread—probably more to keep his hands clean than for actual taste.
“Yeah, where’ve you all been, then?”
“Uh,” Jungkook chews, blinking at you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure you out. “I’ve been to Bangkok, Hawaii, and, uh… before that, I was here for a few months.”
No. Fucking. Way. So all those mixed signals, not only from Jungkook but all his friends too, weren’t so mixed after all.
“This town’s pretty small. Is there anything exciting to do off-season?”
“Well, Hara had a huge birthday celebration. So there was that.”
“Hara’s birthday’s in August?”
“Yeah, why?”
So he gave her a baby for her birthday. How pathetic it makes you feel, realising you’ve been too busy being still his to fall for someone new all this time. But you don’t let the heartbreak show this time. You swallow it down because shutting down won’t help you now.
“Just asking.”
Jungkook just nods again, still contemplating your words, trying to read your motives like he always does, though you’re as blank as can be beneath your smile. It’s not that you’ve lost your determination to get through snowboarding—no, you’re way too competitive and stubborn to back down now. Still, you kind of wish you were as drunk as you’d been two days ago.
The upside of being fully sober again is that you feel fantastic. Physically, anyway. The downside is that your brain won’t shut up.
You vividly remember the night you ended things, the exhaustion, the desperation in your every word as you tried to explain yourself to him. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him; you did and you still do, maybe even more than you should. But back then, you’d grown tired of always feeling like you weren’t enough, of feeling like you were someone he didn’t really need.
You’d always been the one to soothe your doubts on your own, to make excuses for him and his choices, to tell yourself it was just a phase, that he’d eventually grow out of it—that he’d grow out of it for you. Not that he’d never do anything risky again, but just enough for him to see that some things are too dangerous to try.
Losing him was completely your fault, you know that, and even though he’s going to be a dad—even if it’s not your child—you’d crawl back to him in a heartbeat if there were any chance. Not that you’d ever be a homewrecker; that’s something you’d never do, and you’ll respect any relationship on earth as it is. But if he’s only going to be a father, if he’s only co-parenting with Hara and they’re not together, you’d try to make it work somehow.
Or maybe you’re just delusional, thinking you’d be okay with him having a kid that’s not yours. Because deep down, the thought of him being with someone else after you—even if you weren’t together anymore—makes you want to throw up. Not just because picturing it is one of your worst nightmares, but because all the love declarations he made, and will probably make again in that scenario, would be empty in their truest form. At least in your eyes.
There’s nothing you can do about it; it’s not like you’re some grandma who thinks virginity before marriage is a must. But if he was with you and says he’d want to be with you again, there’s no chance if he had someone else in between.
Jungkook sniffs beside you, and you’re not exactly proud that, since learning he’s staying here at the hostel too, you’ve kept spare napkins nearby, just like the good old days, and you’re not proud as you hand him one with a small smile, still chewing, knowing his rhinitis is worst in the morning.
“Thanks,” he’s smiling, though there’s still that look of doubt in his eyes, as if he’s still trying to work out what you’re up to. “So, how about you?”
You’ve half a mind to exaggerate again, but you know you’ll need to save your energy today, especially since you’re spending the whole day with Jungkook. So you stick to the truth. “Nothing really. Mostly work, and a few activities I’ve tried.”
“It’s weird.”
“What is?”
“You doing all that stuff.”
Jungkook doesn’t look as accusatory as he did the first day; this time, he actually looks…sad.
“Didn’t you want me that way?” You keep your tone light, friendly even, but deep down, that old pettiness rises to the surface.
“No.” The word slips from his lips without a moment’s hesitation, his sad eyes fixed on yours, and suddenly, you can’t breathe. It just doesn’t make sense.
“I…why?”
He slowly swallows his last bite and reaches for his coffee, just to toy with the rim of the mug. Then he lifts his gaze to meet yours, boring into your irises as if to tell you more than he’s actually saying. “That’s not you.”
You just stare at him, trying to understand why he’d want you to change all those years ago, only to now tell you, indirectly, he doesn’t like the person he’d pushed you to become. No words form in your brain, again too overwhelmed by it all, so you just nod, because quite honestly, he’s right. It’s not who you are, even if some of the less riskier activities, like snowboarding, turned out to be more fun than you’d expected.
Jungkook doesn’t seem to handle the silence well as you quietly finish your meal, as his leg starts bouncing under the table again, occasionally brushing against yours. You’re sure he doesn’t even notice it, but you do and while you think about shifting your leg slightly away, that faint touch of his somehow soothes the intense longing you have for him.
How many times you’ve thought about calling him, only to remind yourself he was the one who let you go without a word, is beyond counting now. Trying to count would be like trying to reach infinity without breaking down as the despair catches up to you and you simply can’t do either.
You need, with all your might, to pull your mind out of this endless void and focus on the good. You’re able to have a normal conversation with Jungkook. He’s fine. You’re fine. And if you can make it through these next two weeks, you tell yourself that you’ll be fine too, even if it’s without him. Because that countdown in your head has shifted—from thinking you’ve got time to work things out, to savouring these last moments with him as much as possible, hoping to make memories you can hold onto as fondly as the ones you made all those years ago.
“So, today’s blue slope day?”
Jungkook nods with a smirk, eyes still on his cup, clearly lost in thought. “Yeah. You ready?”
“Sure. I was born ready.”
The snort that escapes him mirrors your own, letting the sadness fade into that playful light in his eyes you’ve always adored when he finally looks back up to you.
“Then let’s head out, shall we?”
“Yes, sir!” You salute playfully, downing the rest of your or rather his iced Americano—sneakily poured into a regular mug—in one go and standing as soon as Jungkook does.
It doesn’t take long for you both to get fully geared up and leave the hostel, Jungkook closing the usual distance between you by walking much closer than he has on any of the previous days, though you welcome it this time.
“Give me your board.” Jungkook stretches out his free hand towards you when you’re just a few feet away from Dionysos.
“I can handle it.”
“I know you can. But you don’t have to.”
Wondering whether you’re about to be stubborn again, you decide to let him help you. It’s a nice gesture, and knowing his strength—which has clearly grown over the last few years—it’s no bother for him to carry your snowboard too. So you hand it to him, mumbling a small, grateful “thanks” and fall into step with him, the rustling of your gear and the dull thud of your boots the only sounds breaking the otherwise silent streets.
“It’s such a lovely day.” You marvel at the first rays of sunlight shining down, making the snow-covered streets steam ever so slightly, looking straight out of a fantasy.
The town’s not fully awake yet; a few people are setting up their displays outside, greeting you both with warm smiles and friendly faces. It’s easy being here, so welcoming when you ignore the chaos that’s crashed down on you since you arrived.
You’d like to imagine living here, spending the rest of your life in this place with Jungkook, befriending his friends too, all in some alternate universe. You daydream about a winter wedding, teaching your kids how to build a snowman, and everything else.
It would be nice, it would be perfect. Because in that universe, you’d still be with Jungkook, and you’d be not only happy but fulfilled.
“It is, the slopes should be perfect too.”
A small group of kindergarteners crosses your path just before the slopes, and as your gaze drifts from them to the shop windows behind, you catch the reflection of you and Jungkook side by side. He’s looking at the kids, full of adoration, with that same endearing smile you fell in love with all those years ago.
His hair’s just as shiny and healthy, his eyes sparkling in that familiar way. You’ve always known how much Jungkook wants a family—he always has, just as you always did. It’s one of the reasons you connected so quickly. His values and hopes for the future aligned so perfectly with yours that falling for him and picturing a life together was almost inevitable.
You knew back then that having different hobbies wasn’t the most important thing in a relationship, that differences in those areas wouldn’t decide its downfall. But somehow, you both let those differences take centre stage.
It wasn’t just poor communication that damaged things; you lost sight of what truly mattered, letting the good become tainted with doubt, trust begin to crack, and your hearts bleed in ways they never should have.
Standing there now, side by side, you realise that everything that happened, the way you both handled things, was so unnecessarily foolish. You wish you’d made different choices. You look perfect together, like one of those couples you see and just know they’re meant to be, like they’re soulmates, like they’re fated.
Jungkook’s eyes lift up, catching yours in the window, and his smile grows just a bit wider. There’s still that adoration there—or is it just nostalgia? Or maybe it’s the inner peace he feels, knowing he’ll soon have a child of his own? You’re not sure, and you’re afraid to let yourself think too deeply about it. Because, honestly, if it’s anything but adoration, you’d spiral so much, so irrevocably, that you might just break all over again.
Switching your board to his other hand, where he’s already holding his own, he lifts his now free arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Your head doesn’t even reach his eyes, and your shoulder aligns perfectly with his arm, like you’re a puzzle piece fitting into him. You can’t help the broad smile that breaks over your face when he says, “I’m glad you’re here.”
You turn away from the window, tilting your head up to look into his beautiful brown eyes, taking in this small, pure moment that you’ll lock away in the deepest parts of your heart and cherish for the rest of your life. “Me too.”
Simple moments like these with Jungkook have always been so beautiful. It’s always been like this, just the two of you in a bubble where nothing else matters. The ache in your heart should ease in moments like this, but instead, it grows, the longing building until it’s nearly unbearable.
How perfect it would feel to kiss him now, how your heart and soul would sing if he kissed you back. The realisation—the overwhelming certainty—that he truly was the one for you hits you like an avalanche, burying you so deeply you’ll never find a way out.
Still, you turn your face away, and he lets you go.
“Let’s get it.” Jungkook cheers, and you echo his words, because you don’t know what else to say, walking side by side to the lift. Thankfully, this time without any annoying interruptions from his fangirls.
The first ride up in the ski gondola is equal parts terrifying and beautiful. The trees below look like miniature toys, and the mountain peaks seem too stunning to be real, like a picture painted by an artist. The gondola is empty except for the two of you, Jungkook sitting across from you, both of you gazing outside. But every now and then, you can’t help glancing at his reflection.
Jungkook talks the entire way up, going over everything you should know about snowboarding by now. His calm voice, his solid presence right in front of you, and his patient review of the basics settle the last of your nerves, along with Hope’s words, still ringing loudly in your mind.
Fear is faith in the negative.
And you don’t want to live like that again—not now, and not when it’s just snowboarding. You trust your own abilities, and you trust Jungkook to keep you safe, like he always has. Well, aside from that one camping incident—but you’ll turn a blind eye to that for now. You have to, because one lapse in his judgement all those years ago shouldn’t undo everything else he’s proven to you.
The morning is spent making descent after descent, each one becoming easier and more fun, especially with Jungkook staying close. You manage to fall less and less, and when you do, he’s always right there, reaching out to help you back on your feet.
And while you’re laughing and joking like old times, it feels as if no time has passed at all.
Just before lunch, you both find yourselves back at the gondola, though this time it’s a different one.
“There’s this restaurant way up there.” Jungkook points into the distance, and you squint, trying to follow his finger, but the sun is too bright to make out exactly where he’s pointing. “The food’s amazing, and we’ll be able to take a way longer run down. It’ll build your stamina and get you ready for the harder slopes tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” You smile at him, excited not only for the food but also for the chance to push yourself a bit more.
When you step into the gondola with a few others, it’s so packed that you have to squeeze in beside Jungkook, pressing against his side. With his broad shoulders and your thick coat, there’s not much room and after a few minutes, Jungkook shifts and lifts his arm, draping it over your shoulder to give you both a bit more space.
You frown. Even though it’s more comfortable this way, you don’t like it at all. If he’s with Hara, this is crossing boundaries left and right. You know that if you were still together and he did this with another woman, it’d be a dealbreaker.
The gesture sours your mood instantly, letting your thoughts spiral in a way that has you dangerously close to snapping at him. But you hold back. You won’t start a scene now, not here; you’ll wait until you’re at the restaurant and talk things through.
When you reach the top and leave the gondola, heading toward the small restaurant by the lift, Jungkook keeps his hand resting lightly on your back.
It’s ironic, really. You left because you wanted him to find happiness, to be with someone who wouldn’t bring conflict, someone he wouldn’t feel the need to change. And here he is, supposedly happy, yet acting like you’re still his, clinging to old habits like they’re the only things he has left with you.
Maybe that’s the saddest part of all. He’s got everything he once told you he wanted, yet he’s still holding onto pieces of the past, unable to let them go. And maybe he’ll never fully move on, just like you haven’t, even if he thinks he has. But that’s not something you can fix. You tried—more than once—to help him keep his distance, to let go of whatever still kept him wounded. Even if it wasn’t the perfect approach, pretending to be with Yoongi, you thought it might help him move on. But he has to handle that himself now; you’re done being the one to guide him there.
You deserve peace, too. You deserve to be able to look back on your time together without feeling unresolved tension. If that means keeping your distance, letting him live his life with Hara without stepping in, then so be it. You’re done making excuses for him, done justifying his behaviour to yourself. He’s made his choices, back then and now too, and now it’s time for you to make yours.
You take a deep breath, letting it all settle within you as you step into the restaurant. The hurt, the sadness, the longing—sure, it’s all still there, and maybe it always will be. But now, it’s just that: memories. Moments you once cherished, now filed away in a part of your heart that no longer needs to cling so tightly. Or at least, that’s what you hope.
As you sit down across from him, letting go bit by bit, you realise that maybe this is what closure should feel like. Hurtful, and not freeing at all.
��You’re kinda touchy.”
Jungkook looks up from his menu, running the tip of his tongue over his lip piercing. “I always am.”
Your lips press into a firm line, shoulders tensing even more. Jungkook’s eyes dart over you, and he realises too late that your mood has shifted. As he catches on, his nervous habits start to surface in an instant. He fumbles with his menu, his leg bouncing so hard that the tablecloth shifts slightly with each movement.
“Doesn’t it feel wrong to you?” You ask, your tone so accusatory it even startles you.
Jungkook gulps, actually gulps, and you feel the urge to laugh or maybe storm off altogether.
“No?” He sounds uncertain, though there’s a strange conviction in his voice, even with his nerves. “Does it bother you?”
“Yes.”
You stare each other down, Jungkook nodding but tilting his head slightly, eyebrows drawn. “Is it because of Yoongi?”
Should you come clean and tell him you’re not dating Yoongi, that he’s just your cousin? But you can’t see the point. It wouldn’t change anything now, you’re sure of that. Though you’re not sure if the snort and shake of your head is more because of how absurd it all is, or if it’s meant to answer his question. Either way, it fits. And as Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching in a steady rhythm, you don’t say anything more.
The tension between you feels like it’s growing and the silence between you both is almost suffocating you. You try to distract yourself by looking at the scenery outside the window, but it’s no use.
“I never wanted to do all those things,” you mumble, as if you can somehow lift a bit of the weight off your chest. “But I felt so…so unworthy…so empty. I needed to do it, even if I hated most of it.”
The waiter sets down your plates and drinks, wishing you a pleasant meal. Still, you don’t look up at Jungkook, maybe out of embarrassment, maybe because you just can’t. Instead, you stare at your food, forcing yourself to eat, even if it’s only a little.
“You shouldn’t have.” His voice is gentle, and you feel his gaze burning onto your face, though you try to ignore it. “Not for someone else, at least.”
Is he talking about himself? Or does he think you did it all for Yoongi? Either way, he’s right, though those words would have made more difference if he’d said them years ago.
“Maybe you’re right.”
It’s unusual to see Jungkook eating so slowly, and it’s not like you to keep so quiet, either. It’s not that you can’t handle silence, but sharing a meal like this without any connection feels so pointless.
“Was it easy?” Jungkook eventually asks, and your eyes involuntarily snap up to him.
“What was?”
“Moving on so fast…”
Sometimes, looking at Jungkook like you do now, you marvel at how much he’s matured. His features have lost that softness, his smooth skin now showing faint lines from laughter and time you weren’t there to share.
You’d always imagined growing old with him, and even though it hasn’t been that long, your heart aches for all the time lost.
The faint, bluish shadows under his eyes, something he didn’t even have during his finals, make him look not just tired, but drained off life. You can only hope it’s not because of you.
“I never did, so I can’t say.”
You both go back to eating, letting silence settle again as you try to process it all. Maybe you need a whiteboard, or even a list, something to help you make sense of it all, thinking you’ll definitely do that later, once you’re back at the hostel tonight.
More than half your plate is still full, but you can’t seem to eat any more. As you set your cutlery down and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you notice Jungkook’s already finished his meal.
“You should eat more.”
“I’m full. I’ll just take it to go.”
And after Jungkook sighs and nods, you do just that, quickly insisting you’ll pay for your own meal, refusing to let him cover it for you.
Finally back outside, the sky has shifted, like your mood, from sunny and clear to dark, with low-hanging, heavy clouds.
“That’s odd,” Jungkook mutters, fishing his phone out and typing quickly. “Forecast didn’t mention a downpour.”
“What should we do?” Your nerves flare, body tingling and palms starting to sweat as that familiar panic creeps in, the kind that takes over any time things veer off-plan.
Jungkook’s eyes dart over his screen, only adding to your unease.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath and puts his phone away. “So, uh, there’s a thunder cell that’s come up out of nowhere, and there’s a warning for a severe snowstorm. But it’s all good. We still have time.”
Just then, the first big snowflakes start falling from the clouds, and the wind picks up. As you look up at the sky, your voice trembles, “Jungkook?”
“Alright, okay, maybe we don’t have as much time as I thought. We’re going to head down this way quickly, but safely.” He points toward a fork in the path where you can see a sign with a blue dot in one direction and a black one in the other—the black meaning it’s the most difficult and dangerous run there is.
“Okay.” You don’t sound entirely convinced, partly because, while you believe in your skills, you know that in these weather conditions, even the best skills won’t count for much.
“Strap on your board. We need to go.”
And you follow his instructions because, at this point, there’s no other option. The wind has picked up dramatically by the time you straighten up again, and you have to strain every muscle to stay upright against its force.
You’re terrified, and Jungkook’s focused, hurried pace isn’t doing much to settle your nerves.
“You’re leading, so I can keep my eyes on you.”
You nod, shifting your weight forward to start descending, but keeping control of the board proves not just difficult, but almost impossible. Your vision blurs with the flurry of snowflakes, even through your goggles, you can barely make out the slope or see the fork ahead.
“To the right!” you hear Jungkook shout from behind, his voice frantic to its core. But as you pick up speed, the wind shoves you beyond the limit of what you can handle, pushing you towards the left, dangerously close to the black run.
“To the right, ___!”
You try, you really do, but you can’t seem to manage it. Like a leaf in a gale, you’re pulled in the direction you don’t want to go, helpless to stop it. Lungs burning with each short breath, you think you scream the moment you realise it’s too late, skidding down the steep, black slope.
You try to brake, just like Jungkook taught you, but your knees are weak, your muscles not trained enough to regain control.
Jungkook rushes up beside you, and even though you’re in full survival mode, his presence brings you a tiny sliver of reassurance, even if it’s just for a while.
“You’re doing good, keep going!”
And you do, tears streaming down under your scarf. The storm keeps pushing you off course, pulling you again and again in directions you don’t want to go. But Jungkook’s right there, sticking close beside you, trying to block out some of the wind’s blasts and guiding you as best as he can.
It feels like an eternity—fighting against nature, fighting to stay upright, fighting the fear building stronger and stronger in your chest. Somehow, even though you left the marked slope ages ago, heading somewhere unknown and unsure if it’ll lead you to safety, you spot a small, abandoned-looking hut in the distance.
“Try to stop!” Jungkook yells, his voice barely reaching you through the howling wind.
“Now?”
“Now!”
You manage to stop, though clumsily, falling hard onto your bum, every muscle aching so painfully you’re barely able to move. Jungkook ditches his board in seconds, crawling over to help you with yours as the frozen clips stubbornly resist coming loose.
“You good?” He glances briefly at your face, breath visible in short puffs matching yours, his lips chapped and slightly split.
You nod, though you’re still trembling, trying to steady yourself as adrenaline surges through you without much mercy.
Jungkook gets up with your board in hand, offering his free hand to you in a heartbeat and pulling you up effortlessly. After he picks up his own board, jointing yours, he clasps your hand with his free one and bolts towards the hut, dragging you along with him.
Thankfully, or rather miraculously, the hut’s indeed abandoned and open. And while Jungkook pushes you inside first, letting the boards clatter onto the wooden floor as he leans against the door, both of you are panting and gasping for air, needing this break more than anything.
The hut’s not really windproof, small gaps in the wooden walls still letting the cold wind whistle inside.
“Seriously? What the hell were you thinking?!” He rips his helmet off and throws it to the boards on the ground.
You try to straighten yourself, though the ache’s nearly too much. “I… I tried. I… it…”
“You just never listen, do you? I told you to turn right back there, but of course, you went your own way. Always have, always will.”
The storm outside’s picked up even more now, and the cold has seeped into your bones, though you still fold your arms, doing your best to keep your voice steady despite the burn in your lungs. “Oh, please, Jungkook. Don’t act like I’m the only one who doesn’t listen. You’ve got selective hearing when it suits you.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Selective hearing? I spent years trying to tell you things, but you were always too stubborn to actually listen.”
“Right, yeah, I’m the stubborn one,” you snap right back. “You still can’t even talk to me unless it’s about some bullshit like snowboarding.”
“Oh, as if you’re any better.”
“I am! You didn’t even say one word before I left!” you explode, ripping off your helmet too, followed by your gloves, yeeting them across the hut.
“Oh, fuck off, ___! I wanted to, but clearly, you couldn’t wait to fuck Yoongi as soon as you got rid off me!”
“Yoongi’s my cousin, Jungkook. Family. But I wouldn’t expect you to know that, since you barely know anything about my life anymore.”
Jungkook’s face falls at that, and you can clearly see how his whole world view crumbles in his eyes, leaving nothing behind but a hollow sadness you’ve never seen before. Though you’re sad too, you’re hollow too, and so you continue, “Don’t pin this on me when I never moved on, when you were the one fucking Hara and giving her a baby.”
His unfocused eyes snap to you, lips still parted as he breathes, “I never slept with her. She’s Jin’s wife.”
You feel like you’re falling, falling so hard and fast you can’t stop. The tears that coat your eyes are nothing compared to the agonising realisation ripping you open. All those years, even all this hurt you’ve been experiencing these last few days, were unfounded.
If you weren’t this close to Jungkook, you’d think his red nose was just from the cold, but the silver lining his eyes carry shows just how broken you both are, what you did to yourselves without even realising it in the first place.
“You moved on,” you press out, fighting the sob that threatens to spill.
“I haven’t.”
How foolish all the assumptions were, how foolish of him to assume just as much. How utterly foolish that you both lost the ability to talk to each other long before your relationship ended.
But maybe it had to come to this for you to learn what it’s like to be separated, to learn how to communicate… but have you really? You reckon you haven’t, not given how things went down. Maybe it’s too late, just as Hope warned you, though a small, fragile part in you clings to the delusion that things might still turn out right.
“Let’s… let’s call for help.” You turn, unable to keep looking at Jungkook, and you’re sure he needs time to process the bomb that’s just dropped.
“Yeah,” he’s taking out his phone again, though the breath he lets out is nothing short of concerning. “My phone’s dead. How about yours?”
By now you’ve sat down on the small, bare bed, as standing any longer would have had you fainting by this point. While you rummage through your inner coat pocket to pull out your old beaten-up phone, Jungkook stomps over with his snow-covered boots and sits down beside you, leaving enough space between you that it feels like miles.
Lighting up the screen, you see your phone’s battery miraculously still well over 90%, but there’s absolutely no signal. “Nope, no signal. We’re stranded.”
Just as you’re about to put your phone back, Jungkook stops you with his voice. “You still got the case?”
You pause, looking over at him, only to meet hopeful eyes you can’t quite place.
“Uh, yeah. You clearly got rid of yours though.”
You hate sounding so bitter, but it is what it is. Years of feeling the way you did can’t be undone with one revelation.
“I lost it… my phone, too, when I was in the Caribbean shortly after we…”
You hum and nod because what else is there to do?
“Why did you keep it?”
Your eyes stray from your phone, where you’re running your thumb over one of Jungkook’s doodles on the case like it always does, to him, though he’s not looking at you this time, just fiddling with his gloves in his lap.
“I can’t get rid of memories. You should know that.”
“Even if they’re bad?” He turns his head to you, though his eyes are fixed on your phone. The way he’s slouching is so unlike him, and it hurts to see what you’ve done to him.
“They aren’t bad.”
Jungkook nods a few times, as if he’s trying to cement your words in his mind, rewriting everything he thought was real but never was.
Eventually, Jungkook stands up and walks over to a small closet, pulling open the doors to see what’s inside.
“No way.” He breathes out a laugh, and you crane your neck to look past his broad shoulders, though it’s no use.
When he turns, arms full of vacuum bags stuffed with blankets and pillows, you feel like you might scream in delight. Especially when Jungkook rips them open beside you and a waft of freshly washed fabric hits you.
“That’s like hitting the jackpot.” You look up at him, your grin as wide as his as he just laughs. “Can you light the fireplace too?”
Jungkook furrows his brows as he looks around the hut, likely because he hadn’t spotted it until now. But as soon as he clocks it, along with the stack of dried wood beside it, he’s off in a flash, inspecting the chimney and everything else.
Meanwhile, you gather all the bedding and spread it out on the bed, purposefully ignoring the fact that there’s only this one bed in the hut and not even a couch. It shouldn’t be a big deal—you’ve done more than sleep in the same bed as Jungkook before, and you’re both clearly single, so there’s nothing your conscience can protest about.
Still, time has passed, and you’ve clearly drifted apart more than you would’ve liked. It’s an unusual situation you’re in, an emergency really, and you’ll have to adjust to it without reading too much into it.
“Got a lighter on you?”
You pull it out of your pocket, leaving Yoongi’s cigarettes in your pocket that you nicked this morning alongside before leaving, and toss the lighter his way which he catches effortlessly with one hand, lighting up the kindling he’s set, framed by a few larger sticks of wood.
Jungkook watches the fire intently, and soon enough the hut’s heating up, allowing you to take off your coat. Not wanting to keep your boots on any longer—by now, they’ve cut off all circulation in your feet—you pull them off as well, then crawl onto the bed, settling against the headboard under the layers of blankets.
You’re absolutely knackered at this point, and as you check the time on your phone, you realise it’s already past dinnertime.
“You can join me, you know?” you smile as Jungkook turns around, muttering an “okay” and starting to peel off his gear too, though you don’t miss the flush creeping up to his ears.
How endearing he can still be.
The bed’s clearly not meant for two—especially not when Jungkook’s become this buff. He’d probably struggle to fit on his own, let alone with someone else. And though you’re fairly petite next to him, you’re both squished together, personal space nonexistent. Still, it’s better than freezing to death outside.
“I’m so tired,” you yawn.
“I’m so hungry.”
The pout on Jungkook’s face makes you giggle; it’s just so him. Without thinking, you lean over him to fetch the food from your coat. Only when you settle back beside him do you notice how stiff he’s gone.
You don’t comment on it, just hand him the leftovers, which he reluctantly takes, though this time he doesn’t engulf your hands like he did yesterday. Not that you’d admit it, but you’re a bit sad he didn’t do it again.
“You hungry too? It’s your food.”
“I’m good, Jungkook, please just eat.”
You’re starting to read him again, just a bit less hazy than it was the last few days. So before he can start arguing with you, those sad boba eyes pleading for you to eat when you’re genuinely not hungry, you lay your hand over his arm, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m not hungry, promise.”
With that, Jungkook starts to eat and you lean back, slumping more into the blankets as he eats in silence, your eyes growing heavy with each passing minute.
“You can sleep if you want.” Jungkook gently pulls the blanket higher over your shoulder as you lie down fully, your head nearly resting against his hip.
“I’m still cold,” you mumble sleepily, though there’s no chance you’ll really fall asleep while you’re still shivering like this. The storm’s really taken it out of you.
Jungkook shifts, and when you open your eyes, you realise he’s finished eating and is lying down facing you. “Turn around.”
Lying beside him like this, faces just inches apart, is something you never thought would happen again. And while it’s hard to look away from him—the slope of his nose, the Cupid’s bow of his lips making them almost too inviting—you fight against the blankets draped over you both and turn around. Jungkook slips an arm around your waist without much care, pulling you fully against him until there’s no space left between you.
Heart racing like a hummingbird’s wings, you try to relax into his hold, but the thin layer of fabric separating you makes it feel as though you’re bare. You’d seen the contours of his body when he stripped off his gear, the black thermal shirt and pants clinging to his muscles like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. But feeling his solid body against yours like this, after so long, leaves your head spinning in circles you can’t seem to stop.
You haven’t noticed how your hips press back against his crotch, haven’t noticed the way your body instinctively moves against his until Jungkook’s breath hits your ear.
“Sorry,” you breathe, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to stop. His large hand, which had been resting on the mattress beside you, slides up along your stomach, stopping just before cupping your breast from below, and you know you’ve stepped through a door that should’ve been left closed.
Heat rises within you, making you shiver with something far more pleasant than the cold. You need more of him, more of his touch, and your hand slips from beneath the blankets, reaching back to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, willing yourself to just feel and nothing more.
His quick breaths ghost across the part of your neck that’s bare, just enough to spark more want not only in your heart but your cunt too. You tug gently at his hair, urging him down, igniting a fire you know won’t be put out easily.
Before his hand fully cups your breast, he pulls you even tighter against him, hot lips kissing and sucking at your skin as you press yourself back, trying to ease the ache between your legs against his growing cock.
The low moans slipping from Jungkook’s throat are music to your ears, and the realisation that he likely sang that song not for Hara, but for you, sends another wave of arousal out of your cunt.
“Jungkook…” you rasp, basking in his touch, but as soon as his name leaves your lips, he pulls back.
Thinking you’ve done something wrong, you turn your head, only to see him tugging off the last of his clothes. Relieved and more turned on than you’ve ever been, you strip off your own gear, leaving the blanket draped over you. It’s been years, your body’s changed, and while you know it shouldn’t matter, you still hope he doesn’t notice.
In a blink, he’s back, resuming where he left off, though now it’s his warm, smooth skin against yours. The ridges of his abdomen press along your back, and the feel of his cock—hard and oh so hot—against the cheeks of your ass is pure bliss.
You turn your head, trying to catch his gaze, maybe even hoping for a kiss, but when you catch sight of the familiar chain around his neck, it stops you in your tracks.
Jungkook pauses too, his eyes questioning, but as soon as he realises what you’re looking at, he gives you a lazy smirk, his hand cupping your face to turn you towards him and with it your whole body.
You expect him to kiss you now, hungrily like he always did, but instead, he brushes his lips along your cheek, your neck, shifting to settle between your legs while the cool metal of the chain’s grazing your tits with every shift of his body.
“I don’t have a condom. I could…eat you out.”
His thigh pressing against you doesn’t lessen the ache, but you remember the one scare you had together, that time you thought you might be pregnant not long after you’d started dating. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t have wanted it, but you’d both been so young. Even now, the thought makes your heart skip, but not as violently as it used to. You’d be ready and willing to take the risk, though, would he?
“I’m clean, on the pill.”
Jungkook lets out a low groan against your neck as you press your thigh gently against his cock, needing to give something back.
“I haven’t been with anyone since you. So clean.”
Is he serious? The thought hits you hard, and though you know he never lied to you before, you still can’t help but pull back, needing to see his face.
“You haven’t?”
“No.” His voice is barely a whisper, and the same love you remember shines in his eyes, making you tear up.
“Me too.”
“Fuck.” He returns to your neck, his fingers tracing your lines until they find your weeping cunt, slipping between your lips to spread your juices in gentle, familiar strokes as he preps you, every touch an echo of the love that maybe never faded.
The first stretch of his middle finger inside you is nothing short of insane, drawing you higher with a single stroke than any toy has managed in years. The way your cunt clenches around him seems to drive Jungkook on even more as he pumps with precise motions, soon adding his ring finger, bringing you dangerously close to euphoria.
Jungkook’s free hand roams from your neck to your tits, back and forth, squeezing, mapping you out like he forgot how you felt like, though finally resting on your jaw as he nestles his head between your shoulder and neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.
It’s when he picks up the pace, the base of his palm hitting your clit relentlessly with each thrust, that you come undone, your orgasm flooding over his hand as he continues, determined to not stop just yet.
A muffled whine of your name slips from his lips, softer than you’ve ever heard, and while you long to hear him call your pet name like he used to, it only amplifies the fullness in your heart for him.
Jungkook keeps his fingers inside you, now scissoring them to stretch you further as you cling to his back, not caring if you leave angry marks.
“Think you can take it?”
“Yes,” you mewl, not caring if you couldn’t. You’ll take him, you need him, need to feel as if none of those years apart ever happened.
Once again, you think he might finally kiss you, but instead, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your damp forehead. You momentarily frown, but it’s forgotten the second his cock aligns with your still sobbing cunt, dragging up and down to coat his entire length and even his tight balls.
The sight of Jungkook when he finally pushes in is nothing short of mesmerising. He’s so perfectly sculpted, every muscle cord defined, and with his piercings and tattoo sleeve, he looks like a fantasy you never dared dreaming of.
You’ve always had a weak spot for tattoos, but seeing them inked across Jungkook’s skin? That’s your ultimate downfall. A glorious downfall, as the burn of his thick length pushing deep inside you sends you reeling, until he’s so far in that you can’t tell where he starts and you end.
“Oh my god,” you choke out, overwhelmed by everything Jungkook is—and everything he’s become.
He’s unusually silent, though you barely notice, not when he begins to rock his hips, leisurely sliding his massive cock in and out, low grunts and moans escaping him as his gaze locks onto yours and not dares to stray.
Jungkook leans back, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, sweat forming in small beads along the ridges of his chest and abs, dripping down despite the cold. His nipples are hard, and your mouth waters with the urge to suck on them. But seeing his own mouth slightly parted, breaths quickening in time with the rhythm of his hips, you’re sure he’s thinking the same, drawn to your own nipples, standing proud on the jiggling flesh of your chest.
And while you wish you were the flicker of firelight dancing across his skin, you’re not far behind, as his hands find their way from your hips to your tits, caressing them like he always did, giving you everything and far more. You need something to ground yourself, a way to keep from shattering under the emotions running wild in your mind, intensified with every thrust Jungkook drives into your core. So, you grip his wrists, not to stop him, but to urge him on—to make him pinch harder.
Maybe you need the bite of it, maybe you want him to not just take away the ache, but be the reason you remember this night years from now.
“Jungkook, I’m so close, oh my god.”
The grunt that escapes him reverberates through you, nearly pushing you over the edge on its own, but he slows, setting a gentler pace as he shifts so his mouth can worship you from your breasts to your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys across your delicate skin.
You know the two of you will be marked by the end of the night, and right now, that’s all you want. You want to leave yourself etched into his skin, to reclaim your place not only in his heart but in every part of him.
In this moment, it’s like you’re finally whole—not just because Jungkook fills you completely, but because he completes you. He always has, and while you’ve both been damned by what happened before, it feels like redemption might be close.
“You’re…” Jungkook murmurs against your skin, his warm breath searing into you, though you need him to finish his sentence, need to hear it.
But as you cradle his head in your hands and he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes are hooded, yet glistening, and your throat tightens at the sight too.
Face to face, you share the same breath, as if you share one heart, your small hands gripping his face as if you never want to let go, his hands cradling your small head with the tenderness that once meant everything. It’s as though you feel what he’s trying to say—but somehow, you don’t.
There’s still a wall between you, still something unsaid screaming in the silence that just can’t seem to go away, and you’re sure he feels it too. He feels it as your orgasm builds, feels it in the desperation of his own thrusts, in the matching, agonising, wordless ache in both your eyes, feels it when you both shatter together in a burst of all colours and stars in existence.
And then, all that’s left is pain.
He hasn’t kissed you, and you didn’t kiss him either.
And as he pulls his now-softening length from your still-pulsing cunt and reaches for a tissue from his trousers off the floor to help you clean up, he silently gets dressed.
Dresses as if he’s ashamed, dressed as if he regrets it, dressed as if you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.
So you do the same, slipping into your clothes before lying back down, shifting as close to the wall as possible, facing away from him to give him some peace where none is found.
The tears falling silently onto the pillow should only be from the shivering that’s returned, a byproduct of the cold that momentarily disappeared but is now back as if you were never meant to feel warm again.
Finally, exhaustion sweeps over you. Physically. Mentally. And everything in between.
And as Jungkook lies down too, once more pulling you close and wrapping you in the warmth you crave more than you can bear to admit, your eyes fall shut almost effortlessly.
Maybe sleeping it all away will make it better, forgotten as a dream that never was.
Forgotten, like everything good that once was but now isn’t anymore.
Forgotten, like the tear you feel slide down the back of your neck, disappearing into the fabric of your shirt where all your sins and failures lie buried.
01 • 02 • masterlist • 04
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#fic: CCL#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts army#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#jungkook imagine#jjk x reader#romcom#Jungkook smut#bts smut#Jungkook fluff#bts fluff#jungkook bts#jungkook romance#Jungkook romcom#jungkook#crack fic#kim namjoon#namjoon#bts namjoon#bts kim seokjin#kim seokjin#bts min yoongi#min yoongi#park jimin#bts park jimin
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more me verbally processing my feelings on this game and it's story that i sent in discord but i know reading these things can be helpful to others processing so im sharing them here <3
even though i think i personally am able to find coherent meaning in solas's ending, specifically the status of the veil, and i do think its good and i like it, i really have to work to do it. the way its written is kind of confusing because the message is like ok. let go of your regrets. but you also have to atone for your mistakes. but solas believes he is atoning by taking the veil back down and bringing immortality back and making sure more spirits are not turned into demons? but the story tells us that version of atonement is Wrong, but why is it wrong? because people will die? but people also die because of the veil? mages are mass incarcerated and lobotimized bc of the veil, elves have been enslaved for millenia, PEOPLE AGE AND DIE, BECAUSE OF THE VEIL? so he isnt supposed to atone for that mistake by fixing it he's just supposed to accept it and let go? so are we supposed to atone for our mistakes or not? what determines whether or not we need to atone? he has to atone for what he did to the titans but not what he did by accident to his own people i guess? and he is going to atone by maintaining the status quo that he created because people have gotten used to it?
i think the answer based on the regret prison scene with rook escaping with varric's help and that banger line of varric's is to take accountability and own up to your choices, they are yours and no one can take them from you. rook says something to one of the regret statues (for me it was harding) thats like "i made a choice and so did you and you knew the risks" or something so i think that is the key. solas cannot accept his choices and so he is desperate to undo them no matter what kind of harm it may do. he is trapped in regret and the past to the point that he cant accept them and move forward, and varric is the perfect contrast of this with how readily he accepts his death as a consequence of his love and hope for his friend. even mythal accepts her own choices when she tells solas that she turned him from his purpose. and she doesnt apologize or even express regret at all, partly because shes a crazy bitch (affectionate) but partly because i think her quiet, cold acceptance is part of the lesson solas needs to learn in that moment. solas is constantly saying, "im sorry, but", "ir abelas, vhenan, but i cannot". mythal just states her actions plainly; i forced you to take a body, i brought you into war, these burdens are ours to bear together, i release you. no apology, no rumination, she is at peace with her decision even though it is wrong. i think this works wonderfully on a personal individual level of personal regrets. it is a good lesson; regret does not serve any purpose other than to hurt you. it brings no one back, it helps nothing, it does not make the world a better place. solas has to let go of his regrets so that he can become the hero that varric sees deep down in him. it is an essential part of his personal journey as a character... but it gets stickier when we are talking about systemic change. obvi a lot of dragon age's modern, young audience is very much in favor of "tear it all down!!" and i am too but i think with solas they are trying to tell a very personal and individual story of a man and his regrets rather than make a social commentary on radical change, but they also dont make that clear enough, so the two get muddied together when it comes to the question of the veil in a way that feels like they are advocating for maintaining the status quo, which i dont think was their intention.
i think this is so muddied because inquisition very much makes clear commentary on systems and institutions with the chantry, the orlesian empire, ferelden monarchy, mages and templars, and the inquisition itself being all vulnerable to corruption, and solas has a lot to say about all of this and he is very much presented as being right (like when he tells you about the corruption in your own ranks in trespasser and how hes spying on you lol) and then veilguard does not do this AT ALL, all of the issues are very personal ones of people and their identity, people and their family, people and their regrets etc. so i think a lot of us are in this mindset from inquisition of like.... yeah disrupt the status quo install a puppetmaster elf to rule an imperialist empire, make leliana pope and radicalize the chantry even if its bloody, dissolve the inquisition, abolish the circles etc. etc. and the question of the veil is very much an extension of these philosophical questions about systems and organizations. and for those of us who leaned towards dissolution of all of those corrupt structures, dissolution of the veil is the logical conclusion to a story thats sending us that message. but then veilguard just. does not even engage with these topics at all. like its not even a question. it takes the question of the veil and translates it into a personal issue of solas's psyche (which is super interesting, just different) and connects it to his past actions, his relationship with mythal, and his perception of himself, rather than a macro-level question of what is best for the world when pursuing change, and the answer for solas on a personal level ends up being different from the answer that inquisition was asking us, but it feels disjointed as a result.
so the veil staying up was the right decision because it forced solas to let go of his regrets and the game is about him. so it was an exercise in his therapy session with his two ex-gfs and some annoying kid who wont leave him alone. but the problem is it doesn't answer or engage with the greater questions and themes about systemic change that the series has been building up to.
veilguard is interesting because it wants to be dragon age 2 so bad while simultaneously being terrified of dragon age 2. solas bringing down the veil would have been the answer to the question that anders blowing up the chantry asked, but veilguard decided to ask a completely different question instead. and i think it did a good job in that specific goal, but it doesnt satisfy 15 years of build up and instead just throws it out the window in favor of something else.
#veilguard spoilers#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#da:v spoilers#datv spoilers#dav spoilers#mine.txt#i will never stop writing essays
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you know, im actually tired of azriel's bonus chapter being talked 24/7 like its the most major thing ever. I never seen people get worked up on a bonus chapter that didnt even happen at the end of the book! acosf is the reason why this fandom is so toxic!
Hey anon 🫶
I definitely agree. Bonuses aren’t meant to be given such significance as Azriel’s bonus is given. At this point, His bonus seems to be more important then the foreshadowing in ACOSF it self.
“The shadows were ready to strike Nesta when she insulted Elain during their fight? Doesn’t matter because In Azriel’s bonus they disappear therefore that’s the only proof I need to claim that they absolutely despise and fear her 🥸”
Its a BONUS chapter, that too it was only part of a limited special edition. Let’s be realistic for a second - if someone hadn’t posted it online for everyone to see, those of us who hadn’t brought the SE, we would not know the contents of the bonus. If someone hadn’t kept up with SJM and JUST picked up acosf after reading acotar but is unaware of any bonuses, they too would not know about what occurred in Azriel’s bonus, why? Because its information that is not required to know. Its just an EXTRA. That confirms some suspicions in SF. I can go into detail to prove the irrelevancy of the bonus but ACOSF already tells you everything you need to know for the next book. I hadn’t read Azriel’s bonus until two years ago. Before reading it - elriel, much like Nessian, were blatantly obvious. After reading it? Elriel is still endgame. The reason the bonus is so talked about is due to the fact an entire ship relies on it. Gwynriel’s do not have anything in acosf to prove their ship, its just a bunch of out of context scenes and dialogues that aren’t in any way romantic or foreshadowing. Add in the bonus and GA have something to grasp onto even though it contradicts the book and well…the bonus itself lmfao. Then you have eluciens using the bonus as some concrete proof elriel is toxic and a future abusive relationship. That Azriel is an incel who only wants Elain superficially and Elain is just a little, clueless child who walks around lying to people about what she wants.
Antis CLUTCH onto the bonus as most of their arguments and claims use it as “proof” for whatever anti elriel bs they want to spread. But their points only make sense with the bonus, not without which tells you all you need to know about how valid their arguments are.
Feysands bonus is not talked about bcs it easily disproves gwynriel/elucien. Wings and Ember is only used as a way to show how “toxic” Cassian is otherwise its kept under wraps bcs once again, it disproves antis takes. If you had something that dismissed your entire ships within a couple of lines - ofc you’d avoid it like the plague. Its only Azriels bonus that can give them some hope that their worst nightmare won’t come true. That too, the hope is given after they twist and turn the scenes to fit their narratives.
It’s so important to understand elriels bonus sorry, Azriel’s bonus happens during acosf and not after. Its not the end of the book, after the bonus - there is no change or shift in the dynamic between Gwyn and Azriel. They remain as your usual mentor/mentoree duo. Even more important to remember is in regards to Gwynriel, nothing in the bonus is mentioned. Not their session, not the “spark”, not the necklace. Absolutely nothing. Why? Because it is irrelevant. Yet we get told about Azriel’s mood being off which relates to the elriel part of the bonus directly paralleling Cassian after his bonus w Nesta. Because THAT is relevant.
YEP. The fandom was toxic pre-acosf but it’s nothing compared to now. Unless you’re surrounding yourself with content you like and want to see - you can’t just enjoy general fandom spaces anymore.
Acosf brought up:
Anti Feysand agenda
Nesta vs inner circle
critique of the IC
Pro Tamlin apologists to the point of invalidating Feyre’s trauma
The infamous ship war
Anti Nessian vs pro Nesris
Readers opinion being pushed more then Authors intent.
I hope after Elains book - the fandom goes back to being semi-toxic again and more tolerable/enjoyable then it is now.
#Sidenote: i was happy to receive a genuine ask & not the asks the stupid trolls have been sending for the past few days ���#elriel#pro elriel#azriel acosf#azriel bonus chapter
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I want to expand on what I'm talking about. And I said a little bit extra in the comments:
There's just some posts that have been going around about how to solve the issue of men swinging real right in America right now,which does have an impact on society. some guy was saying he was attacted to the right bc they were all 'welcome brother' but in the left people resent him. I think it's just. It's easier to go to an idealogy that's like 'you're entitled to this' than an idealogy that says 'hey you're not entitled to everything but you could be more emotionally healthy and kinder to other people and". That's something simply being nice or making them feel good won't ever fully fix. The "rewards" for being in the right will always feel more immediate for white men.
It's not unique to men to feel alienated in an idealogy that wants you to challenge yourself. At the same time, more kindness to everyone, emphasis on acceptance, less volatile language toward each other, will help the community be stronger over all. it is a difficult conundrum, but I don't think it comes down to 'we don't make men feel special enough
It also ignores I think, that white men DO get rewarded in leftist spaces too. a lot. Men will get a ton of adoration for saying something vaguely feminist than if a woman says it a lot of the time, and so on a so forth, everyone loves a sweet guy...I think that's something that already happens.
But let's get back to volatile language:
We always say guilt isn't going to help anyone and it isn't about guilt. But I think we need to admit that no, we do try to make people feel guilty and ashamed a lot. And not framing it around that most of the time would do a lot.
I've seen posts straight up saying it's a bad thing to want to survive and live happy lives and take actions to do this because (x) bad thing is happening. You know, the most basic human instinct? And that's not going to win over people. You may not like that, but it's not.
I don't think that needs to center on women helping men feel special about themselves. A lot of us are asked to take care of men all the time and it's exhausting. Men on the left can focus on being more positive about the concept of manhood if they want, but asking women to do the work. is just....yeah that's just the patriarchy.
I do think examining things like black masculinity etc is great though. If you have another marginalized identity, it will intertwine with masculinity in very specific ways that will be used against you, just as it is with femininity or being outside both those concepts (yet the world assigns you one anyway). I totally get that masculinity is used as a weapon against both gay men and gay women, in different specific ways. And I think at least learning about that and supporting efforts to stop this makes one a better person.
On the other hand. it would be insane of me to ask a Black woman to make a Black man feel special and accepted for simply being a man if she doesn't want to do that. Like. absolutely wild.
And it's it's rarely about that, is it? When we say "celebrate men" it's not bringing any unique experience into it. It's about white men. They're the ones who make up most of the alt-right.
Communities in the right are not compassionate but because they offer some form of reward and companionship they can seem like that. As much as people are lured in by "welcome brother" or whatever, those same people will on the right will mock any person who steps outside the strict roles that have been set.
So....we need to abolish to same roles. I think we need to focus on how we talk to people. On supporting people when they're trying.
It also comes off in how we talk to each other about basically I can harshly tell someone who has privilege over me-- a white man or straight person ect ect-- their guilt about their privilege does nothing, I'm not interested in guilt and what we need is action. But let's be real. Telling someone "you benefit from a system that makes other people suffer" is going to make someone feel guilty. And yelling at someone for feeling guilty isn't going to make that better. I think we avoid saying the truth and say what's the core of it-- no, it's not your fault you were born a certain way and now you benefit from something. A society hundreds of years in the making made that happen. And that sucks, that you basically have no choice but to be complicit. And it sucks way, way more for the people who are kept down by that system. So we need to change society. We can do it together. It's not to "make up" for you existing. It's because we care about each other. I want this for all of us, because when we see each other as whole people and are treated equally, it benefits all of us.
This is a not a "men are uniquely punished by the left for being men, we need to celebrate masculinity, stop being so mean" thing. It's a human thing. It's about the way we talk to each other and try to weild guilt towards people in general. People want to feel good about themselves. They want some kind of acceptance. If you're constantly made to feel bad, it can be hard to want to stay. This is something everyone feels, because we all have a selfish instinct.
People don't like feeling guilty. That's just how people are. It's promoting compassion, rather than hatred and resentment, that's going to help us in the end.
But me simply saying that isn't going to change much. Humans feel hurt and lash out too. When horrible things are happening to us, we resent people that don't understand that or are part of that. The paradigm shift will be hard. Not everyone will be able to do it and I don't think that's wrong.
Everyone gets frustrated by a class of people where a lot of them have more power and try to push them down. Nobody wants to talk to someone that's trying to hurt them.
That's why it needs to be someone like me who could explain racism 101 rather than idk. making a person of color say 'well white people don't feel special and accepted for being white. poc we must be nicer. let's celebrate whiteness because the right does and that's why white people are drawn to it, they feel accepted." listen to how ridic that sounds. you are literally asking for a white history month. That's the same thing you're doing when you're talking about manhood like this. The onus is not on the discriminated group to reach out to those harming them. That's up to others in the community.
But as a broader thing...We just need to figure out what the end game is. Do we want to yell and guilt trip, or do we want more people in our corner? What's more important, the end goal or if someone knows all the right lingo or matches up to your opinions exactly? What do we need to rally around? How can we take care of each other? If we're kinder to the community, more people will follow.
Anyway this is the last time i'll say some big thing like this and tag it. I don't like doing this on tumblr for a reason.
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Well i think we ALL should be threatening not to vote for Harris if she doesnt call for an arms embargo. Id say ceasfire but lets be real
I think we ALL should be putting our effort into applying pressure on ending a genocide, rather than pressuring people to vote for someone who not only seems to be going back on policies she said she stood for, but is also not proving she will actually do anything on the situation in Palestine
The voting hasnt happened. You can't get mad at people for AT LEAST threatening to not vote for her. Threatening. As in, no one has voted yet. So it's all talk right now.
If people dont end up vote for Harris it will be her own fault. Thats just how it works. What she says, but more importantly what she does, is what makes people vote for her just like any other candidate
we arent even asking that much. At the VERY least, is to stop sending weapons. 1 thing she and biden are capable of doing but have shown having no plans on even considering it.
Now, I dont know what im doing when it comes to voting bc theres a lot that can happen until then. im not thinking of what im going to do, im focused on helping to apply pressure. Ive sent emails and called. But even just talking about it can help.
Yes, if Trump wins it IS worse, beyond Palestine. For the planet, and everyone.
But the fact is that some people will not vote for her. That is a fact.
Another Fact is some people will vote for her only if they feel confident she will actually do something about the genocide.
These are facts. You don't even need a source for that
Why are you wasting your time on people who wont vote, instead of convincing the Hold Voters to vote for Kamala by making Kamala someone they will want to vote for?
WE arent dividing the vote. SHE is.
Worry about the blame game for after the election.
For now, help us get her to agree that the United states will stop sending weapons to Israel and/or keep the halt (of weapons), if by some miracle biden gets something done.
#palestine#israel#kamala harris#donald trump#vote uncommitted#us elections#I am in a MOOD and will block zionists and anyone who annoys me#mostly ill let whatever play out in the comments if anyone sees this#bc i finally fucking get it#i was so scared of projrct 2025. i knew trump was technically worse. but i thought strategically its best vote harris#but then thr dnc came out. and at first i felt hopeful. like really confident. that she is going to win#and though i was mad bc up ubtil this point there wasnt much she has said on gaza that felt worth anything#and just. the fact she didnt let a palestinian american speak a deleget. with a bunch of info popping up#on shit shes going back on like fracking and adding more police and wtvr other stuff i cant think rn#like before that i was still on the fence on some stuff like thr term Blue Maga i thought might be a stretch though ive seen it before#like the 4 more years chant for biden. but after not letting the Palestinian deleget talk was like. it was so fucking crushing#and i heard the speech it would have been perfect all the fucking liberals in that place. like i fucking get it#like i didnt like her before but now like...i see why someone would not want to vote for her even with trump being worse. again idk what ill#do. like shes only a shade different from trump when i look at her. like politically. anyway yeah I get how people will vote means nothing#rn. its not even important. its not. bc if we want people to vote the way we want we need to convince them to vote by making the candidate#worth fucking voting for even in the face of a possible dictatorship. and we arent asking for much. we arent asking to move mountains.#just to at LEAST stop sending weapons
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project of insanity finally done. i can play the game now
#everytime i turn on fates instead of the title screen i get a banner that says WELCOME TO RAREPAIR HELL ASSHOLE#ann plays fates#this actually didnt take me as long as i thought it would god bless#i appreciate the template bc i need to visualize these guys its not good enough for me to just have a list#also lets me judge beforehand if any of the kids are ugly#i dont love all of the hair choices but none of them are absolutely horrendous so im fine#also had to find places to shove my yuri pairings in and the men repeat bc im not editing that#obvs this was made for vanilla gameplay but im not doing that#counted and literally only four of these are possible in vanilla gameplay 😭#so theres that 😭 though some of them definitely SHOULD have been vanilla game…#cough ryo/scar cough elise/hayato#but whatever#some of these look a little nonsensical on paper#however i dont think vanilla game fates pairings often make sense anyways#so if anything i think its all very fitting#do you think the people of nohrshido look at corrins army and just go wtf??? how are u yall dating within eachother#jesus
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[bnha manga spoilers] I am not going to write this (please ignore how often I have said these words and turned out to be lying) but I really want a fic where izuku & rody go on a weird kind of sad road trip post-canon but pre the big time jump
izuku who feels so guilty for leaving the world behind but desperately needs to be somewhere without all that weight just for a little while, away from anyone who witnessed the things he witnessed, not at UA when his future feels so uncertain. and rody who does not always know who he is or what he wants, but knows that he wants midoriya izuku to be okay
#bnha posting#i truly can't be the one who writes this though bc i haven't even read that far in the manga#just seen spoilers for what goes down#enough to know that my boy needs and deserves to have a little breakdown#just. rody who can see so clearly how much izuku has been changed by all this#kind of goading him until he snaps and yells. bc he can see izuku needs to let some stuff out#and admit that he lost things and it hurts and he doesnt know what he's going to do now#(rody who has so rarely known what to do or what to be)#do you see my vision
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i rmr when all the initial meta around endgame was coming out people were talking about steve being depressed and whatnot and it's like well yeah but he's BEEN depressed, like he woke up alone in this century and he kept going, now i can understand it being worse this time after finding a family and getting bucky back and losing them all except of course that's not why endgame steve was on about so like......the people writing meta were trying to connect these things that of course weren't really there on screen because that simply wasn't our steve
but i think it really could've been SO interesting to see this is the thing that finally makes steve stay down like he's lost so much and he just CAN'T keep fighting like i get some people think that's what they were going for but considering the ending......it's really not. and so i'm just thinking about a version after iw, maybe he gets some of the thor treatment except not turning his depression into a dumb fatphobic joke lol and maybe nat and others are trying to get through to him and it just doesn't work and then we get some flashbacks (which you could have done for all the original avengers actually which would be particularly important for bruce and nat and clint who did not have their own trilogies) including his mom telling him "you always stand up" and THAT being the thing to finally get him moving like it would've been such a perfect way to finally show sarah rogers some respect and ACTUALLY show steve really struggling instead of whatever they tried to do with him in that movie
#steve rogers#mcu#anti endgame#why am i still rewriting this movie five years later#really though i think i rmr just trying to work through it all#and a lot of the meta i was reblogging initially still wasn't really accurate to endgame or the rest of the mcu#like they were still making steggy more important than it canonically was while trying to explain why it was a bad ending#and it's kind of like you can say steve would respect that peggy had a life and wouldn't interfere with it but that's about it like#going on about how he DID love her so much and just wouldn't be selfish enough to do those things#or that she was soooo important to his moral compass (hence why so many fic writers had her telling him to go back to bucky lol insanity)#are just not accurate lmao i do think much as she may be rightfully disliked#while canonically he did not LOVE her he did respect her even if we think that's annoying bc she's an asshole to him in catfa#but yeah no he had a moral compass before her i understand what people were going for with the compass being symbolic but like....#any time she said anything did he listen? except for maybe when she told him he was meant for more? it really doesn't seem like it#nor did he need it! jesus! the whole point of catfa is he was chosen for a REASON he was already a good man#he did not need peggy 'sure i'll let nazis into shield' carter to teach him shit#but yeah it was bc i followed one stucky blog at the time who was reblogging a lot of good shit but a lot of that nonsensical shit too#and i was just reblogging it all bc everything sounded better than endgame#and i really did start seeing more of the discussions around peggy where her culpability in catws hadn't even occurred to me#bc i was so in fic from the beginning of joining fandom that not only was their relationship made as impt as stucky#it was also made out like what happened to shield was hurting her legacy and it's like...but she had to have at least SOME responsibility#and yeah eventually it's like okay no it's not just that steve wouldn't Do That it's also that they would've been a terrible couple#and not only would he not be so selfish but he wouldn't give up everything for HER lmao but he would've for bucky as was shown over and ove
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so there's a trans woman who goes to the centre and everyone calls her by her birthname which she is like... fine with but only because she has no choice but to be fine about it. anyways I've known her for a while through a trans group before the centre so I asked her today if she'd rather I call her by her birthname or her chosen name and she said she prefers her chosen name but I can call her by her birthname if I want and oh my god I was about to cry for her bc god I really feel that whole situation fjdkdl, I just told her "no I WANT to call you by the name you prefer, that's why I'm asking, I want to make sure it's safe for you if I call you [preferred name]" and she seemed so grateful and I'm just :') eeurrgghh i hate how we have to be grateful with crumbs !!!
its just absolutely wild to me that she's presenting femininely and wears skirts and dresses and everything and uses her preferred name when she writes her name down on stuff and yet everyone at the centre calls her by her birthname and he/him pronouns. like. how are people so fucking rude and oblivious ??? she's even worn a she/her pronoun pin to the centre like.... people are so fucking stupid about trans people I stg.
idk I'm just hoping to make her feel a bit more comfortable and maybe if I start calling her by the right name and pronouns then everyone else will too eventually because I know she doesnt feel safe correcting people. I'm not going to make a big thing of it obviously bc I don't want to put her in danger but I will be using the correct name and pronouns now that I've double-checked with her about it, and if I start feeling like it's making things worse for her then I'll check in with her again at that point. I've honestly been stumbling trying to use he/him for her when I mention her to other ppl because she is just... she/her in my brain. it's what I know she wants to use so it feel fucking awful to use anything else !!!
#and my counselor said smth abt her that rly didnt sit right with me#but i was too scared to challenge her on it and ask what she meant by what she'd said#it might just be that this woman talks too much and will talk my ear off if i let her fjfkdl#and then i wont make friends if i just sit with her every day like i was doing the first couple weeks#but smth abt the way she said smth more like... ''getting sucked into all the stuff [she] has going on''#but said in a more... eugh way#idk it set off transphobia alarm bells in my head. ''ooh man wearing a dress who thinks he's a woman how crazy and perverted'' sort of vibe#I'm just... worried. that my counselor is transphobic lmao. I haven't talked abt any of my gender stuff w her#she can she/her me all she wants lol I don't talk about gender w mental health professionals ever after that initial exp a few yrs ago#I DONT KNOW THOUGH THIS IS JUST RLY MESSING WITH ME#LIKE WHY ARE PEOPLE BEING SO WILLFULLY OBLIVIOUS ???#its really fucking upsetting and I've been trying to not let it get to me too much but jesus fucking christ c'mon people 😭😭😭#im hoping i can maybe help change things for the better bc I'll be someone on her side#since she doesnt seem to have that there. god I've cried abt this a few times bc its just awful#and it rly reminds me a bit of my own situation where i just. grin and bear the misgendering and wrong name#except im a coward compared to her fjdksl i never mention my name or pronouns#i will say though that she has consistently misgendered me no matter how often I've reminded her of my pronouns fjdksl#but like... they/them is difficult. i get that. I can't hold it against her esp bc she's in her like 50s or smth#head in my hands. i wish life were kinder to all of us. i hope one day things can be easier#pippen needs 2nd breakfast#transphobia#transmisogyny#<- for blacklists. i uhhh hope this doesnt turn up in searches but oh well !!!
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my mum picking me up this morning: you're not as hungover as i thought you'd be
me, just yacked in an alleyway: yeah haha
#it's 3pm now and i still cant believe that happened that was. an experience#basically my mate's 21st coincided with her sister's 30th so they both had this big joint Event last night#where they literally rented out a farm house and the field nearby and set up a whole campsite and barbeque and everything#it was really random but also really good esp bc ive been friends with this girl since we were super young#and our mums were friends so ive just got. lots of connections to her family and it was nice seeing them all again#but there was fully like 60 people at this thing and i DID drink more than i meant to but i wasn't paralytic which is good#and my hangover ISNT that bad in terms of how bad my hangovers can get#it's just that my mate's dad picked us both up at 9am this morning which was already going to be... rough#and then proceeded to do the bumpiest drive down the country lanes ive ever experienced#i was literally grinding my teeth like i am NOT about to throw up in this man's car please if there is a god do not let me throw up#and i didn't! my mum picked me up from this (thankfully very quiet) road that has this rickety old alley coming off it#and i had the very humbling moment of 'im actually going to be sick aren't i' and had to WAIT FOR AN OLD WOMAN#TO FUCKING MEANDER OUT OF THE ALLEY AND WALK FAR AWAY ENOUGH FOR ME TO AT LEAST HAVE A SHRED OF DIGNITY#and proceeded to throw up. in a public alleyway. at 9:30am on a sunday. so of course i needed to tell you guys about it#im now force feeding myself garlic bread. im going to manchester tomorrow. i have a flight at the crack of dawn on tuesday#what is even going on anymore#also fully did just do nos last night with some 30 year olds. i cannot express how fucking odd a thing that is for me to do#actually no i can express it bc youse know that im funny about drugs so for me to not even be that drunk#and get offered a fucking balloon of all things and be like 'yeah why not!' is.... odd#i know i inhaled wrong though bc it didn't do a thing which honestly im happy about <3#hella goes home
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#these are just some thoughts re: friendship as a result of tonight that i need to jot down somewhere but#realising that i really do have a strict and set idea of Good Friend(ship) and what that entails to me#and id written people off bc i wasn't yk ~receiving love or friendship the way id prefer and i was angry with them for that/hurt about it#did i communicate that to them though? nooo. was i fully right in that? also no. like just bc i felt unheard didn't fully mean#that they were doing something wrong. they were trying in their own way (and sometimes they weren't really or it just wasn't nice)#but that's about how we match and how we communicate right? this is so silly that's so basic but it never fully clicked for me like this#i was blaming them for stuff and building up resentment without ever expressing that (and i still haven't yk dhshsjd)#and i think where i went ~wrong was in thinking that bc i felt that way they weren't ~giving me what i need#when it's like... but did i pick up on the ways in which they DID appreciate me and show me love etc? did i give them ANYTHING to work with?#(ok yes occasionally but also... tangent but i was watching a variety show and they were teasing woozi about how#he gives interviewers/hosts literally nothing to work with. like no extra information for them to ask about or tease him for or anything#and i was like ohhhhhh. yeah i do do that sometimes with friends and it's genuinely smth i don't really know how to do like#giving casual information (but not too much and not too little???) so they can then ask questions etc. so then if im like ughh#they never ask (the right) questions or show interest (or let me talk but that's a different thing dhsjdjd) it's like...#well do i give them the chance to? much to think about thank you woozi)#anyways where was i dhsjsnsnsjns idk but it's soooo annoying that i haven't figured this all out yet#but im slowly letting go off a bunch of resentment that has truly no business being here and im trying to self reflect and all that#and im honestly doing so shit some days but others days it's? finding stuff that matters to me on a deeper level ig?#and all of it really does pale in the face of multiple genocides and it's. but yk. if i want to keep fighting#i need to build a strong foundation and sort my shit out as well and be present so im really really trying#and beating my stupid stupid depression and brain with a stick until i get there
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sorry if i am weirder than usual right now GRINS EVILLY but not too evilly. i dont know whats up with me today but its like a whole thing it might be the four hours of sleep if im honest
#ive been awake for 12 hours im realising hmmmm#i did all the dishes then cleaned the mop & took a shower. i am now lying down until my feet & back stop hurting#bc like. ok i did the dishes but in the sense that i got them dishwasher ready right. i still need to get the dishwasher going#but since my mother never lets anyone else do it i dont know how to. ill figure it out though of course. grown ass man.#feeling very physically disabled atm bc. i am. but also feeling accomplished. i intend on cleaning my room as well#no ones home so.. smiles#but yea idk why i decided to do all thst. ive been jittery & antsy & like i need to do everything forever at once#& im also socially weird(er than usual) i can notice it but theres not much i can do about it bc the urge to yap.#its nothing HARMFUL i dont think since im not getting mad at ppl yknow im just a bit of an odd thing right now#do u forgive me for being a weird little mentally ill freak 💞💞💞💞😊🐏 say yes im nice
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#OF MONSTERS AND MEN: musings.#ooc post.#you know... i hate to say it BUT in barton's case it's certainly looking like the latter 💀 JSJSJ no but all things considered the things-#that i've posted thus far in relation to barton's journal have been fairly - i wouldn't like to say tame BUT i also don't have another word#to use for it so i'm just going to go with that for now. anyhow though this made me laugh a little bit whenever i saw it BC-#it reminded me so much of barton because let me tell y'all i am NOT lying in the slightest when i say that if someone went through his-#the entirety of his journal... they might be a little alarmed to say the least sksksk and it DEF would give another character a better idea#of just how unhinged he is ahahahhh 🫠 like if you were to try to ask him why he made a certain page in it i can guarantee y'all that even-#HE might not know. like barton would really be out here doing the 'IDK' shrug while you show him this demented collage he made#a while ago and it's AHHH yeah he probably (DEFINITELY) needs to go back to therapy at the... very least to address this kind of stuff TBH#but will he? MMMM
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christ it hits me a lot how shit I was treated by lull and how much I thought that was normal. Lev set up a study room in my house, and... he said I can come in because I was sort of obviously asking the question without even knowing I was asking, like I wanted to ask the question but knew it'd be a no. Why did I know itd be a no? Well a study space is a serious space for actual academic and general people who do work to use, full of books and journals that both aren't my business and will be easily messed up if I touch them, and there's no reason for me to be in there anyway because I don't do work, a study is only a space for normal people and not people who mess everything up and - how do i know this? Oh I mean because lull - yeah
#It drives me up the wall how lull constantly pulled ''Black is abusive and that's why I'm fucked up and if he tells me off it's actually#abuse'' when like. Lull was out there hunting down Black's lives and Black just goes ''oh fuck I trust you idk why you'd lie about#something serious like that I guess I AM abusive'' lull is the abuse in the room with us now. or is it that I touched your books#and messed up the cleanliness of the desk and now you're having a minor breakdown because I ruined your image in front of others#It was literally just a fucking cover because lull did fucked up things and when Black went hold on. Did you do that? Lull would be like#No and you're so fucking mean to me you're horrible you're fucking abusive you're controlling you're -#One of us is here trying to live and give you both space and everything we have. The other one... Is trying to literally get in bed#and marry unknowing unawakened lives of the other before they can wake up to who they are and grooming and manipulating#and fucking them up. Bruh. You wouldn't let me do things like be an equal to you and go near you stuff without mental punishment#and I said oh god OK I'm sorry. I won't do that. And yet somehow I'm abusive and controlling and... I mean I said it already that was a#cover. it wasn't meant to make sense lmfao it was a specific tactic tailor made for us like all the tactics are tailor made for each victim#But anyway. Seriously. I'm scared to go into Lev's study. I'm standing in here anyway bc I need to get over it but like#It's wild to me - oh. I was sitting asking why I'm so trained about not going near his study like ''man why this though why#was this such a bad thing to do when it's not that serious'' because /all his fucking notes and diaries and records of the fucked up shit#he was up to/. I wasn't allowed to see his books and records on manipulation#The fuckin Dossiers he kept detailing specific manipulation tactics and experiments done on people's results and shit#I wasn't allowed to see all the papers and shit he had on psychological torture and shit#Bruh. It always makes sense in the fucking end doesn't it#ramblings //#astral diary //#Diary //
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Why did I start like three other projects when I was already working on a big project when I just got hit with the autism exhaustion beam (requires. At least One Full Day just dead in bed, and then some more Taking It Easy time after)
#i don't even know what prompted it...#hit w a vision. not enough time to execute it. hit w a vision. too tired to execute it.#i guess technically it was just two huh. but all the moving parts made the other one feel like two in and of itself#oh. now i remember there was another shitpost behind it. i just. didn't get to.#thinking about bruno... thinking about anna... thinking about the fairies... thinking about mirabilis specifically actually#she gets the short end of the stick characterization wise and it's such a shame.#to the point where i was unsure what to do w her... i think i got some ideas rattling around though#I CAN... GIVE HER.... SO MUCH MORE.... without changing too much about her. i just need to extrapolate.#hits her w the disability beam. idk if it's also autism but she has some sort of chronic condition#that just makes you. so tireds. moe and mira shaking hands. let's lay down and rest together.#also thinking about the subtle differences between a full dream and a daydream... between sleeping and just resting#and. making her kitty coded. she is such a kitten pile type girl. she is such a lap cat. queen of catnapping#which i'm thinking works really well w peony and even sharena. not so much moe though 😭💔#i want to capture a playful side. and maybe even a 'i'm still figuring out how i feel about that' side to her#like... i'm imagining peony as someone who's surprisingly insightful and emotionally intelligent.#she's got it all figured out. she already knows. she's not always right. but she tends to know what's up#i'm thinking... maybe mira isn't quite there yet. or struggles to see outside of herself. for obvious/understandable reasons#but she has that unwavering desire for joy and comfort the way peony does. she may feel a pang of jealousy here and there#but it doesn't get in the way of her goals and wants for others. which may be the defining factor actually#like obviously this could get messy if you simplify it too much into 'good' or 'bad'. bc all these girls are DIRECT reflections#of each one's trauma response. assigning morality to that is fucked up. but for story purposes... maybe freyja/freyr did. to a degree.#bc maybe they're flawed and fucked up too. it's about The Cycles. i'm getting so lost in the sauce though LMFAOO#i am GOING to do SOMETHING. for mirabilis. mark my fucking words.
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