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#Why can't chickens fly
fishshovelfoomp · 1 month
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Why can't chickens fly
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leafonsidewalk · 1 year
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Why are chickens such terrible flyers?
The main reason chickens are poor flyers is that their wings are too small while their flight muscles are too big and heavy. The heavy muscles weren’t caused by accident; humans bred chickens to have larger flight muscles, or chicken breasts, because people like eating white meat. Even with their new weight, it is likely that chickens may have evolved to have larger wings used to avoid predators if they were raised in the wild, however, since chickens are raised and protected by humans from predators, their wings remained small while their bodies continued to grow. 
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Sources: Forget About the Road. Why Are Chickens So Bad at Flying? | Live Science, Why Can’t Chickens Fly? Here’s What Science Says | Pet Keen
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murobrown · 7 months
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evilminji · 5 months
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I wonder if Care Taking Reflexes are effected by Core and Obsession.
Like? Obviously? Frostbite keeps HIS patients Warm and gives them medical aid. Because he a Doctor(obsession) and an Ice Core? And when you have an ice core, anyone you meet who need Help is either Like Me-> Freeze Um, or NOT Like Me-> Warm Um Up(because of the snow, Obviously. Why would there not be snow, here, in the Sahara desert? There is ALWAYS snow! WE ARE COLD SO THERE IS SNO-).
Like? Some people will shove you in a stack of books in a dark nook, others bundle you up and force feed you, some try to help you sweat the sickness away. You gotta be careful. Because the reflex is there.
It's probably why Ghost Doctors can absolutely BODY your average ghost. They have to keep prying patients out of their well meaning, but actively in the way, friends/family/neighbors etc.
You can't fight somebody who's SICK! Let them HELP you! THEN we can get back to good, wholesome, old fashioned, family friendly Violence. Like the Zone intended. Now, they got some leeches to balance your humors... *tackled by a yeti*
Why do I bring this up?
Bet Jason's REAL sick. >:Dc
Bet Danny is flying along. Checking his map. Lost AF over what appears to be God's personal punching ground. Trying to find a COMPLETELY different city, to visit Tucker, when? Is... is that a Sick Child(tm)?! Why is he ON THE ROOF!?
WHY ARE PEOPLE SHOOTING AT HIM ON THE ROOF?!!?
Danny just absolutely REINVENTS the term "Death From Above". Jason is impressed. Or, at least, he would be. If a floating twink half his size didn't then IMMEDIATELY proceed to do a brooding chicken impression at him.
Sorry, let him rephrase that for the Bat's at home. Not AT him. ON him. He has a floating twink straight jacket that doubles as a hat. He can't move his arms. Kid has super strength.
Help. Now. Or his vengeance will be both petty and terrible.
So begins the saga of Broody Danny and his quest to sit on the baby. Surround him by space stuff. Should he ACTUALLY be taking him to a doctor? Yes. But give Danny a break! He's basicly a Ghost 5 year old. He's terrible at resisting his impulses!
@hdgnj @hypewinter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation
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gayfishermanfive · 1 year
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like honestly if i could just get paid to jump out of planes or smth id 100% be down
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talkbycolor · 4 months
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mushroom oasis headcanons . . . ↷
A/N; im very sensitive about mychael too, oops
Pairing; "Mychael" x GN!Reader
CW; idk alien sex (jk) / this is actually cute, dont worry
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Mychael as your boyfriend.
I just know that he likes to listen to ABBA with you and dance in the mornings when making breakfast or at night before going to sleep.
He purrs at bedtime, especially if you pet his hair.
You can caress his horns, they are softer than they look but also sensitive, be delicate
After a while of relationship, he could no longer avoid the growing guilt he felt and told you about the mushrooms in the forest and the brainwashing he did to you at the beginning.
Definitely identifies with Roar's "Christmas Kids" song.
Be thankful he doesn't have an internet connection or he'd make Deez Nuts cringe jokes.
He is the perfect person for fairycore, you have already begged him to do makeup together, even though he didn't need any of that.
He likes to feel safe, silly and childish with you, having learned to take care of himself since… well, always, it was a drain on the soul. what a relief to his heart to be able to be childish with you, like a break.
He still has certain self-esteem problems, his eyes always dilate when you say nice things about him (or when he's about to jump and attack ((kiss you)))
It's not like Mychael is an uncivilized being, but you've taken the time to teach him several things on dates you've had, things that perhaps he didn't know due to his isolation from society.
You're actually a little scared of what could happen if they discover Mychael's existence, so if you live together it will be in the forest.
Sometimes he is selfish and brainwashes you when he wants more kisses or just feels too needy to let you go out with your friends.
For him there is no such thing as breaking up, he will beg you for answers and ask countless times what the problem is or what you want him to change, as a last resort he would brainwash you so that you stay by his side, even if it's like a shell.
"They were 20 and decided to end their life just like this. They went up to the 21st floor and left without saying "goodbye." I wonder if when they were flying through the air they remembered… ..I once told him if you kill yourself I'm gonna kill myself too!" Basically Mychael not being able to continue with his life alone once he meets MC, if you leave, so does he.
The first time you had sex, bro, Mychael almost had to be chained up, he acted like a spoiled kid when he tried his new favorite candy.
Mychael composes songs for MC, he will even try to get new instruments, new talents, anything to entertain his firefly and have them stay in the forest with him.
Is the kind of old-fashioned sculpted lover, don't doubt that you will look like a 60-year-old couple with 3 chickens and a dog, your wish is his command. If you can't go out to eat at an elegant restaurant, he will get a recipe book to prepare the best dishes and put candles on the table. If you don't have new clothes, he will knit what you like. If you don't like the color of the cabin, he will paint everything as many times as necessary.
Physically? Mychael will never hurt you, using guilt as manipulation is not to his liking either, he loves you too much so he will only wash your brain to have a perfect life by your side, don't worry, you are safe from the world and you will have healing caresses every night , even if it is not today, if it is not tomorrow, you will learn to need it on your own and stay at will.
Mychael is terrified of people, the opinion of the masses made him think of himself as a monster and he can't help but blurt out little comments mocking his own appearance. Being with you makes him forget what he is. Why was he surprised? Because you didn't look away.
His saliva is a little salty and something tells me that he produces goo when he is excited, trust me (delulu)
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libraford · 10 months
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Okay so here's what's going on with the bird crimes.
On thursday I was going to Powers Park when I saw what I thought were 2 chickens hanging out in the parking lot, and a lady watching them from the fence. I thought... they could belong to the lady, but chickens aren't the kind of pet that you just let hang out loose.
I approach.
Lady: "These aren't mine."
I look closer. Its actually 2 roosters, one of which is a very small breed and is missing his tail feathers. Both of them have an injury to their backside- like its been plucked.
So we talk about what to do, I end up calling Animal Control. The actual Animal Control officer doesn't get there until noon, I get a police dispatcher. She says she can send one of the cops to grab them until the actual professional gets there.
I tell her that the roosters are being kept by the woman I met, she's coaxing them into her house.
I post about it on the facebook group in case someone knows who they belong to. The comments are full of jokes, obviously. But no leads. Eventually the big rooster gets caught by someone running a sanctuary for abandoned and abused livestock, but they're still looking for the little black one. Evidently they got out of the lady's backyard and were loose again.
I figure he's going to be a coyote snack and don't think about it for the rest of the week.
So now it is Sunday and I'm opening up the bathrooms. I'm at Summit Grove park and as I'm about to reserve the shelter for a birthday party I see...
A black pigeon.
Pigeons are not a common animal in this area- you're more likely to see house sparrows, crows, and mourning doves. So that's odd. What's more, she doesn't seem to be skittish and is definitely accustomed to humans. And she keeps trying to bite my fingers, so she associates hands with food and she's skinny as a rail so she's been abandoned for a minute.
Why does this keep happening to me? Is this the Morrigan come to teach me a lesson in pigeon form?
So I remember the number of the woman running the sanctuary and I give her a call. I tell her I've got a pigeon here that can't fly, is super hungry, and doesn't seem to have any issues biting fingers. She says she can't take her, but she can find a home for her because pigeons have specific needs. But she won't be able to get there until 12:30. We (my work partner and I) have to deal with the bird in the meantime.
We absolutely cannot take this bird with us on our route because we are in a tiny truck cab and don't have a cat carrier to put her in. So our solution is to lock her in the janitor's closet until the rep can get here.
Around 12:15, we head back to the shelter to make sure she's still there and hasn't been disturbed... and I realize that the reason I even saw her in the first place...
...was because there was supposed to be a birthday party at the shelter at noon.
The party is strongly underway and they have shoved a table against the door of the closet.
The sanctuary lady comes by and waves, we ask the party people politely to move the table slightly because we're trying to rehome a pigeon that's inside that closet.
They move the table, but not all guests see this interaction- because it looks like a bunch of maintenance people are just here to boss folks around during a little girl's birthday party and this draws a crowd.
The sanctuary rep arrives and we open the door just a little bit to let the bird out. She bobbles towards us, hoping for food, when one of the older ladies at the party exclaims:
"Does that ANIMAL just LIVE in there?!"
I mean... sure. For the past few hours, she did live in there.
"Do you have any IDEA how many DISEASES pigeons carry?"
The rep scoops the pigeon into her arms and takes her out of the shelter area to inspect her wings, feet, and back. She shows us her breastbone and explains that its been several days since the bird ate anything, which was why it was going for fingers.
Meanwhile, Aunt Ornithophobia over here: "I can't BELIEVE you would just TOUCH a BIRD like that in front of CHILDREN!"
We take the bird away to the van so the rep can thank us and explain what likely happened- which is that someone abandoned the bird when they couldn't take care of her anymore they just let her loose.
"I understand you got one of the roosters," I said.
"Yes, the big one. But the little bantam rooster is very fast- he darted into someone's backyard and I never found him again. If you see him, give me a call."
"I've been told that chickens are legal to own here, but roosters are not."
She gets an exasperated look on her face. "If you're going to allow backyard chickens, you're going to have to allow roosters. It's impossible to sex an avian chick and they don't get their dimorphic traits until they've reached the young adult stage and chick sellers don't care about whether they're a hen or a rooster. They care about the sale. We get roosters more often than egg-layers because someone sold them a male as a female and they don't want to pay the fine. I'd rather have the laws allow both, or neither. But disallowing roosters is patently stupid."
"Hm. Well. Note to self."
"Anyways, you're heroes to this little rock dove and I want you two to know that. She's going on a trip to a bird sanctuary in Toledo where she'll have lots and lots of snacks to eat that aren't fingers."
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quimichi · 2 months
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I Read Your Twisted Wonderland 'When You Wake Him Up With Nonsense" and Wanted To Ask If We Can Get One With The Staff(With Staff!Reader) and RSA(With RSA!Reader)? 🥺
Feel Free To Ignore😭
Love You❤️ And Have a Great Day!
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"=⌕ YOU WAKE HIM UP WITH NONSENSE / pt. 2
⌕ pt. 1 here
warnings: bad writing, as usual, some characters may seem ooc, I apologize, pet names, some might dislike those
summary: You wake him up in the middle of the night with some nonsense
characters: RSA, NRC Staff and Rollo x GN!Reader
word count: 1,995
a/n: some are shorter or longer, it's just that I find some characters hard to write or I write them like I view them :) I HOPE YOU ALSO HAVE A VEEEERY NICE DAY TOO!
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Chenya
The sound of your voice draws his attention to you. His breath hitches as he tries to stay asleep. He does not respond, instead he remains still as a statue. It is as if he wants to hear every word you have to say. And he wants to keep sleeping.
"Chenya, Chenya, Chenya, Chenya...Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker." Your voice cuts through the quiet. Your words pull him out of a dream.
He opens his eyes, and he looks straight at you and whines. "Why you gotta pull my full naaaaame...jus' wanna sleeeep..." "Yesterday I saw a motorcycle on the sun kissing the curtains in a cow." He blinks, utterly baffled by your words. His brow furrows and he is at a complete loss with how to respond. Finally, he settles on a simple and tired, "Wha-?" "What I said." You are utterly illogical. It makes it nearly impossible for him to comprehend you.
Your mind is fascinating, weird. You're fucking dumb sometimes.
His lips twitch upwards. That's why he loves you.
"You make no sense, ya know." He signs hard, rubbing his eyes. "And ya woke me up for that bullshit...you gotta pay me back, you better."
Neige
The sound of your voice is so familiar, and the words hit him like a wave of cool air while he's asleep. His body shifts as he starts to respond in the depths of his sleep.
"Wha-" He starts to say, his words faltering on the cusp of waking. "Cutie are you...is everything okay?" he asks groggily, a bit of sleep still clinging to him. If he could blush in his slumber, he would have been scarlet in shame for how his words slurred and garbled on his tongue. He slowly sits up, looking more worried than ever.
"I just saw a chicken picking up McDonald's at the gas station for detention." The words catch him off-guard once more, and he stares at you with a small confused smile on his face. He tries to process what you've said, but finds it impossible without more explanation.
His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and he tilts his head to the side, looking way to adorable for his own good. His confusion soon gives way to a brief chuckle, and he smiles widely and nods, still processing your words.
"That's such a nice story!...You should tell me the ending tomorrow though..." and with that he pulls you back against him and pets your head gently before both of you fall back asleep. He's still confused tho...
Rollo
He begins to stir, slowly waking to consciousness. His eyes dart around the room, his vision blurred and unfocused as he sits up. "Mmm, yes?" Rollo could never be mad if you woken him up for a reason, a good reason.
"I forgot to tell you that the telephone told me about the flying elephant with rainbow eyes and silver shoes." Rollo raises one eyebrow at first, thinking you're playing a trick on him. The joke is too outlandish to be real. Even this is to stupid for you.
But seeing that you're serious, he has no idea what to say. He is speechless. Oh...so you are that dumb huh? At this point the lord can't save him anymore.
"Is...that so?" he finally asks. "Yes!" Rollo stares at you incredulously as you continue. Every detail you describe is nonsensical and unrealistic. But his gaze remains firmly fixed on yours, and his thoughts are blank.
He struggles to understand why you woke him up. Is this a game? He is utterly puzzled. And his annoyance is starting to seep in. But the look in your eyes is magnetic, and it is difficult for him to hold his frustration. He sighs, "You...you are truly one of a kind, are you aware of that?" But Rollo can't help but smile at you, you just had to turn his life upside down, huh?
Crowley
He stirs slightly, his eyes blinking slowly open. He opens his mouth to speak, but then he realizes you are next to him and closes it again. His expression is soft and delicate, like your presence is a beacon of light in the darkness, and all he can focus on is you. You'd be surprised, moments of his adoration aren't that rare.
"What is it?" he asks with a slight yawn, his voice still soft and sleepy. "So like, I cooked us a clock with sprinkles of snow and the clock then when away with the pan because of their date at the baseball doctor." In spite of his tired mood, he bursts into laughter. A hearty, full-bellied laugh that only he would be so amused by such ridiculous, nonsensical statements.
"Ah, my love. It seems you have discovered the wonders of a dream," the headmaster chuckles, running his fingers curiously through your hair. For a moment he ponders about what other kinds of nonsense you would utter, if this is what your brain conjures just during your sleep.
He chuckles again in amusement. "Do go on," he encourages you, still looking through you with a light in his eyes. "Did the clock turn into a frog? Did the frog wear green boots and sing rock songs in kitchen utensils?" He's amused, but he also wants to know.
Crewel
As you call to him, you can see his eyelids twitch underneath. Your voice seems to permeate his dreams. There is no immediate answer as his eyes flutter in a way that seems to indicate that he's trying to force himself awake but still struggles to do so. He turns onto his back, his head tilting towards the sound of your voice. After a moment, he finally manages to open his eyes with a low groan. His hand reaches for his forehead and rubs it, as though he's suffered from a particularly intense headache. But once he sees you, he stops, his eyes brightening at the sight of your face.
All the weariness seems to leave him in an instance, yet not entirely. He manages a smile for you. "Puppy?..." "I just ate a singing pizza who told me the story of the bees and the snakes who danced underwater." "Ah..." Divus manages a confused hum. It takes him a moment as he seems to try and work it out in his head.
"They danced in...underwater?" He asks, voice soft. "Underwater...is a body of water...but...how does one..." he looks away from you as he attempts to picture the scenario. After a moment, he shakes his head, chuckling softly into his palm. "No matter. That is quite a tale, indeed my pup."
Divus draws you close and wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your shoulder and hugging you tightly. His breath is hot against your neck, his muscles tensing underneath.  "Sleep..." he mumbles softly, his voice seeming to get thicker as a low growl rumbles from his chest.
"Or does my pup want to keep being disobedient?"
Trein
(Solid grandpa issues ya'll have here)
It is almost as you say his name that his eyes blink quickly. They become wide and concerned. "Dearest?" he whispers with a hint of urgency in his voice. Though his expression turns gentle as he notices you aren't hurt or sick. His shoulders relax. "Yuu, have you not been feeling well?" Mozus asks, his voice a soothing melody. After a moment, he sits up. The bed creaks with the weight of his shifting body. Even Lucius wakes up from his slumber to tip tap his way over to your shared bed.
"Did you perhaps catch a cold? I could fetch some medicine if you would like." He doesn't want to see you in pain, not even for a moment. Oh, how caring he can be sometimes..."My hair turned purple because I washed it with dirt in the afternoon 13 years ago on a full red moon at midnight."
Silence hangs in the air as you speak. Mozus's expression remains concerned; worried. And then it turns into a frown. "Ah... You must've hit your head. Or else you wouldn't speak of such nonsense" he says. Though he tries to conceal it, a flicker of irritation flashes across his eyes. Your sudden statements seem to have sparked his annoyance.
"Or are you perhaps playing a childish prank on me at unholy hours?" he asks sharply, tone becoming stern. "If there is nothing else you require, I believe you've wasted enough of your time together." He tries to keep his voice neutral, but is obviously still slightly peeved at your game. "I-Im sorry..." His anger melts at your apology. His face melts back to a soft expression as he pulls you into his arms. His voice returns to its soothing tone as he presses his lips to yours.
When he pulls away, only seconds later, there's a content smile on to his lips. "Do not apologize," he says softly, voice quiet. Yet you feel a surge of pleasure run through your body. You feel almost as light as a feather once again. "I'm happy you're in best condition."
Vargas
Ashton jolts awake as he hears your voice, immediately rising into a defensive stance as he looks at you. Protectively he stands before the bed frantically looking around for potential danger with both his fists up, ready to punch whatever lurks in your shared bedroom.
"It's okay! Is there something wrong? Are you hurt?!" he asks anxiously but wild as he still holds his position. "Wha--no?!" He reacted so fast you couldn't keep up. "Oh...!" Asthon blinks a few times as he seems to calm himself. He lowers his fists, though now he seems completely at a loss for words. He stares at you blankly.
"That is good," he clears his throat, clearly embarrassed about the situation, "very good, yes " he offers a small smile, though you can sense him struggling to gather himself. "...so I woke up because the curtains were running away from a wild toaster." Ashton blinks a few times, processing this information. He seems to ponder it for a moment and then... bursts out into laughter.
It's a loud sound, like a true suburban father laugh. It's a sound of complete delight. Though, it doesn't take him too much effort to bring himself back. "Ah... yes," he says, "Wild toasters. They are very problematic." He lets himself sink into bed again, and like before, you're to slow to react. Because the moment his head hits the pillow, he's gone. Snoring the night away...
Sam
"Hm?" The mighty lord stirs in his sleep. He pulls the sheets tighter around him, his body twitching in his sleep. The sound of his name being uttered by you seems to have broken through his slumber. "Wake uuuup~!" "Hm?" Sam finally looks up at you, his eyes barely open. They seem to focus on you, taking a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room before he finally smiles. "Impy...?" He speaks in the softest of whispers, his voice almost hoarse as though it had been a while. "Did my friends wakw you...or...was it my snoring?"
"My shampoo ran out cause the towel used it for their skincare routine." "Ah..." He sits up, his expression still weary from sleep. Before you can even tell him to stop, he's already risen from the bed. He's practically half-asleep as he waddles towards the shop and comes back with a bottle of shampoo in hand.
He doesn't question you or the strange request at all. "There you go," he holds up a bottle of shampoo. "Only the best for my little imp, and since its you...its on the house" he says, although he looks like he's in a trance he does smirk at you.
"Thank...you?" You question as you take the bottle from his hands. Before you know it he drops face first into bed, "But...if ya need anythin' else...get it yourself...alright?" he mumbles into the pillow.
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mangowillow · 23 days
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last to know | ch. 2: as always, even now
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pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader
summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.
general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst, hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!
warnings: mentions of weight loss and a hospital, jeongguk has a panic attack (semi-detailed), problematic parent-child dynamics. let me know if i miss anything and please be kind!
word count: 5.3k
author's note: *peeks into the void* why hello there! let's pretend i didn't disappear off the face of the earth. earlier this year i went to see The Rose live for their dawn to dusk tour and it was so much fun! there's just a lot of things that have happened and continue to do so; please accept my sincerest apologies for being inconsistent! BUT. know that i haven't forgotten about this story. heh.
also a few more things: ♡ to put things into perspective: jeongguk, OC/reader, and woosung are all the same age; that also means they're as old as seokjin and yoongi in this fic. all the other members maintain their age. honorifics may or may not appear at times. if that bothers you, well, can't please everybody! ♡ this fic isn't beta'd nor proofread by anyone. we go rogue, always.
tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!
fic masterlist
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Woosung plants a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek and giggles.
Looking at him, you ask, “What was that for?”
“Do I need a reason?” Woosung teases as he chews on his jjajangmyeon. You chuckle at his candidness and reach out to wipe the sauce that landed on the corner of his lip. The both of you resorted to sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, using one of them as a makeshift table to place the food.
“I’m really happy you got to come today,” you muse, enjoying Woosung’s calming presence as he delicately places a piece of chicken karaage on your noodle bowl before setting his own down. You haven’t seen him for a few days because he needed to get some new music done in preparation for his application to a recording agency as a performer and a producer. You were more than happy to support him in any way you could, including giving him his space to figure things out. It was also who Woosung was— a quiet soul who liked working in solitude. 
You and Woosung are so much alike.
“Why? Did you think I’d forget?” Woosung teases, a smirk playing on his lips. 
“No, I just thought… maybe you needed more time to prepare for your application. That’s important.”
Woosung gently shakes his head, ready to disagree— “Nothing will ever be as important to me as you.”
A slight pink dusted your cheeks. You didn’t expect him to be this cheesy so early in the morning so you smile and cast your eyes back down to your meal. 
“... I do have news for you, babe.” Woosung starts. He turns his body to face you. Giving your hundred percent attention, you cut the noodles with your teeth and place the bowl down. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you hum at his statement, “What is it?”
Woosung smiles and looks at you lovingly. You feel a bit self-conscious every time he stares at you so intensely and like clockwork, you feel your cheeks heat up. 
“I got the job, sweetheart.”
Hearing the news leave his lips leaves you surprised— your hands fly to your mouth and your eyes start to water. “R-really?” Woosung nods and chuckles through his own teary eyes, you throw yourself at him to give him a tight hug. “Woosung, oh my god— this is— “ you hold him by the shoulders, explore every inch of his face, elation in both of your hearts— “this is great, oh gosh I am so happy for you,” you hug him again. 
You feel Woosung’s body relax instantly in your hold; it has been a journey, walking with Woosung through his own painful moments struggling with his art and passion. Two years ago, he came to Seoul desperately needing a break from life and music after many unsuccessful attempts to make it into the music industry back home in the United States. Although he and his bandmates have put out several songs in the past, they never really gained as much traction with an audience as they had hoped. Going back home to his roots in South Korea also meant leaving his bandmates behind— they have been nothing but supportive of him and his time as they also needed to re-assess their own lives and figure out what they truly wanted. 
Two years ago, Woosung also met you. Both your lives changed ever since.
“Thank you for all your support, ____… you know I wouldn’t have been able to get through all this if it weren’t for you.” Woosung whispers, tightening his hold on your waist. You feel this, you feel everything when it comes to him— so you wrap your arms tighter around him, too. “This is all you, babe. This is all your hard work.”
You both stay that way for a while. Unspoken words are left hanging, as well. You both know well what might become of all this as you always try to communicate. You believe it is what has sustained your relationship for so long. 
Both of you know that Woosung will always belong to music— it’s his dream and the reason why he took so many risks along the way. It was only a matter of when. The possibilities have always been there— should there be a moment where Woosung would return to his career, to his band, to becoming a global star. The fears that come along with those possibilities were also ever-present: what you and Woosung’s future would look like. 
All of these thoughts come rushing to the both of you, but neither of you said anything.
For now, the both of you are happy. And that is enough.
When you parted from each other, you pushed away some of the hair that fell over Woosung’s eyes. “When do you start?”
Woosung takes a deep breath, “As soon as the higher-ups get settled in. I’ve been told they’ve recently landed in Seoul so it shouldn’t be too long now. I’ll be meeting with the owners and one of them is the lead producer. I heard he was a genius, but also a bit scary. They’ve also given me a signing bonus and a potential collaboration with him… that was new… he said they liked my work so much…”
“Wow, that… that sounds so exciting, baby. How are you feeling about all of this?”
“I’m nervous, for the most part,” Woosung murmurs, readjusting the collar of his shirt. It’s been a while since I talked to someone else about music professionally and… this company— I’ve heard so many wonderful things about it. For one, it was built by musicians, too. So I’m hoping they’re not just doing all of it for the business.” 
You smile warmly at Woosung and hold his hands. “You’re going to do great, you know that, right?”
Woosung draws in a breath and nods before meeting your eyes. 
That night, Woosung couldn’t sleep. He watches over you as you dream and when a strand of your hair falls on your face after moving a bit, he tucks it behind your ear. His fingers lightly dance while grazing the side of your face. Woosung sighs as a feeling of anxiety starts to creep into his heart. He loves change, but he cannot help but feel somewhat scared about it anyway. He gets so lost in his thoughts about you that he doesn’t notice you wake up.
“Baby, hey… you’re still awake.”
Your voice brings Woosung back to the present. Seeing your sleepy eyes under the sliver of moonlight that passes through your window makes his heart do a mini somersault— it always does.
“Hmm… I couldn’t sleep,” Woosung says. You scoot closer to him, his arm going under your shoulders to support your body in an embrace. 
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” you whisper, eyes closed, inhaling his scent— him. 
“Just… things. I’m not sure how to articulate them yet…”
You hum, “Then I’ll just stay like this with you to keep you warm… warmth helps you sleep, right?”
Woosung nods, bringing your body closer to his. “Hm… especially your warmth.” Seconds later, he feels you breathe deeper, letting him know that you’re about to let yourself succumb to sleep once more. “I love you.”
When no response came from you, Woosung closed his eyes. Then suddenly, in the stillness of the night, he feels your hand squeeze his ever so lightly.
“I love you, too.”
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“Hyung, I think that’s the salt—” Jimin starts.
Seokjin snorts, stopping with the shaker in his hand mid-air, “What do you mean, Jimin-ah, I think I know the difference between salt and sugar.” He was about to potentially put salt on the croffle in front of him, leaving Jimin feeling both very nervous and distressed.
“Last time, I remember you put the sugar in a different container because a customer accidentally broke the original shaker. The color of the cap was blue, not red. This—” he pointed at the shaker Seokjin was holding, “— is obviously not blue.”
“Yah, that happened last week, but I already switched them out two days ago—” Seokjin tries to argue.
They didn’t notice Woosung enter the cafe until he spoke, “Why don’t you just taste it?”
“Oh hey, Woosung-hyung,” Jimin greets.
“Hey, Jimin. Good to see you,” Woosung replies as Jimin nods, his eyes turning into crescents as soon as he smiles.
Seokjin scoffs once more before greeting Woosung, but he relents and tastes whatever is inside the shaker. When he makes a funny face, Jimin and Woosung chuckle.
“Told ya, hyung. Tell us I saved your life.”
“I can’t believe this is salt, I knew I already switched it out—”
With possible disaster averted, Jimin doesn’t listen to Seokjin’s monologue anymore, “You’re here early today, hyung. Would you like to order the usual?”
“Actually, I am here to buy a mango parfait… ____’s fridge is crazy cold and the frozen mangoes are, well, too frozen. I might actually break the blender. I also forgot to make her usual overnight oats. We had to move a lot of things very quickly yesterday so she could have a bed to sleep on.”
“I got you, hyung. We just finished making a fresh batch of parfaits. Do you want one, too?” Jimin asks.
“Are there other flavors?”
“Blueberry and strawberry,” Seokjin adds.
“I’ll take one blueberry, then. Thanks.” Woosung gets ready to pay, but Seokjin waves him away. “It’s on the house.”
“You always give us free stuff, Seokjin—” Woosung tries to argue, but Seokjin shakes his head immediately.
“Taking care of my sister is more than enough, Woosung-ah.”
Woosung gives Seokjin a tight smile and nods. Seokjin then asks, albeit softer, “How is she doing lately?”
“She’s doing better,” Woosung reassures. “She has been painting more recently; not just because of her job at the university, but also at home. We’re going to set up her studio today so it should be fun.”
“That’s good to hear, right hyung?” Jimin turns to Seokjin, who nods. Jimin hands Woosung a paper bag with the parfaits. “I put some new desserts we’re experimenting with. Please give them a try.”
Woosung peeks at the paper bag and sees croissants and greenish muffins, presumably matcha-flavored. “Oh wow, thank you Jimin… I won’t take up too much of your time, guys. ____ is still sleeping and I need to clean up the mango disaster I left on her kitchen counter before she wakes up.”
Seokjin chuckles, “You really came all the way here for parfaits when you could have bought these anywhere near ____’s apartment.”
“Ah, but nothing beats your parfaits, Seokjin. A wise man once told me that,” Woosung smiles. He and Seokjin instantly formed a bond the moment they met two years ago, much to your relief. You’ve always been nervous to tell your brother anything remotely new about your love life— and you understand where he is coming from.
“Well whoever that wise man is must be pretty smart,” Seokjin replies. His eyes soften right afterward. “Go. Let’s have a drink sometime, yeah?”
“Sure thing,” Woosung waves goodbye to Seokjin and Jimin.
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Jeongguk walks the hallway of the recording studio, still groggy from sleep. Hands in his pockets, he stood outside Yoongi’s door, staring at his peculiar mat: a cat with its middle finger raised, the words ‘fuck off’ glaring at him. Figures, he thought. A doormat won’t stop him from ringing Yoongi’s doorbell, though.
“Who is it?” he hears Yoongi call out.
“It’s your favorite person in the whole wide world,” Jeongguk says, sarcasm lacing his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose; a habit he developed in college whenever he felt the exhaustion seep out of him. He hears scuffling from the other side of the door until the sound of the door’s automatic lock rings. Jeongguk sees Yoongi clad in a plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and a gray beanie— his signature style. 
“Dumbass,” Yoongi mutters under his breath before turning his back to return to his equipment. “Good morning to you too,” Jeongguk teases as he closes the door behind him. 
“How are you already set up? It’s barely a day since we arrived!”
Yoongi chooses not to respond. 
“You’re kidding me, right?” Jeongguk asks in disbelief. “Please tell me you at least went home to get your shit sorted? Or maybe sleep like normal human beings do?”
“I did… for a brief moment, maybe?” Yoongi starts.
Jeongguk shakes his head, “You have to stop spreading yourself thin, Yoongi. It’ll be the death of you.”
Yoongi fiddles with a few knobs on the synthesizer before muttering, “That doesn’t seem so bad— spreading myself too thin, that is.”
Jeongguk throws his hands up in surrender and rolls his eyes.
“Have I succeeded in frustrating you to hell and back, yet?” Yoongi smirks while continuing to flit his eyes through the numerous screens in front of him.
Jeongguk was about to say something but then the door alarm clicked. Kim Namjoon’s head peeks out from behind the door.
“I came to say my welcome remarks,” Namjoon says as he lets himself in. Jeongguk’s mouth falls open because he couldn’t believe Namjoon could just easily waltz in without any resistance. What’s even more astounding was that he knew Yoongi’s passcode— while he, on the other hand, had to ring the fucking doorbell.
“Oh, great. So your boyfriend knows your passcode and I don’t?” Jeongguk asks.
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Yoongi states, matter-of-factly. Jeongguk couldn’t help but glance at Namjoon’s way, who seemed unfazed.
“Right, and I’m Neil Armstrong,” Jeongguk plops down on the couch.
“You’re the CEO, Jeongguk, of course, you should know the passcode… right, Yoongi?” says Namjoon, ever the oblivious one. 
Yoongi continues to do work on his computer, his fingers deftly flying across his keyboard, “Don’t encourage him, Namjoon.”
Namjoon looks back at Jeongguk who has now taken an interest in the plant beside the couch. When they met each other’s eyes, Namjoon just shrugged, his dimples showing. 
“How was your flight, you guys? I hope everything was easy peasy.”
“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” Jeongguk responds. “Not sure about Yoongi here though. He looked like he was about to puke.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi retaliates.
“I can’t imagine the both of you tolerating each other while in another country. It’s a miracle this production company is still standing upright,” Namjoon says chuckling. 
Namjoon met Jeongguk first in university while they studied in New York. Although Jeongguk was a business student and Namjoon double majored in music theory and composition, they ran into each other at a frat party-— with Jeongguk being drunk off his ass. He was about to fall into the pool full of piss (which the other frat members thought was funny) when Namjoon saved him in the nick of time. 
Apart from Yoongi, Namjoon also served as Jeongguk’s confidant, especially after things went south between you and Jeongguk. When the dust settled and Jeongguk was sober enough to realize the gravity of his mistakes, Namjoon helped Yoongi pick up the pieces of Jeongguk’s brokenness. As with time passing by, Namjoon and Yoongi started to develop into something more, too. Much to Jeongguk’s delight and envy.
However, neither Yoongi nor Namjoon has admitted their feelings to the other. And truth be told, Jeongguk is sick of them dancing around each other.
But he also knows it’s none of his business.
“Hey, Jeongguk, is that family dinner of yours still happening tonight?” Yoongi decides to ask. Also probably to change the subject.
Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh. “Yes, it is.”
“Ouch. Will you be alright?” Namjoon asks out of genuine concern.
“I don’t really have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi inserts. “You just need to work on making the right ones.”
Jeongguk slacks his jaw and runs his tongue across his lip ring. He doesn’t really have an answer to that.
Because once again, Yoongi was right. Not just about the damn family dinner; Jeongguk also knows his best friend’s words run deeper and imply a whole lot more than just feeling forced to sit down with his parents over steak and champagne.
“See you on the other side, then,” Namjoon says as he pats Jeongguk on the shoulder before leaving the room.
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Jeongguk mulled over bringing flowers to the family dinner but decided against it.
He knows that the house would be filled with them, anyway. And his efforts won’t matter, either.
As he got out of his car, a chauffeur was already by his side ready to take his keys for him. When the car drove off, Jeongguk took a moment to look at the house he hadn’t lived in for years. It feels odd to come home; it feels even odder to feel numb about all of it.
It took Jeongguk a few seconds to ring the doorbell; for god’s sake, it was his house too, he thought. Ringing the doorbell meant he was a stranger— which he felt was appropriate.
He was greeted by a new housekeeper. He gave her a nod before stepping inside. Almost instantly, his mother appeared at the top of the staircase. They look at one another for a moment, before his mother breaks the silence.
“You finally decide to show yourself.”
Jeongguk doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond, either. He was prepared for a stare-off match with his mother, but that was until his father showed up from the kitchen. With a dish towel in hand, Jeongguk’s father smiled at him as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“It’s so good to see you, son.”
Jeongguk, once more, doesn’t have it in him to respond.
At the dinner table, the silence was so loud, that Jeongguk thought it could break glass.
“Did you settle in fine, Jeongguk?” his father asks.
“Yes, father, I did.”
“You should have chosen a place that was nearer to us, Jeongguk,” his mother chides.
“Honey…” Jeongguk’s father tries to put out a fire that is about to ignite. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was so tired from the flight and emotionally, that he felt a need to retaliate.
Because why not? Whether he speaks up or not wasn’t really up to him. Between him and his mother, he has nothing to lose.
“I don’t know, mother, I chose that place because I wanted to get away from here as much as possible.” Jeongguk remarks. He knows he hit a nerve because his mother downed her champagne rather than respond.
“How is the company going, son? Everything doing alright?” his father asks, trying to mitigate a conflict that neither of them could recover from.
“I guess. Yoongi and I haven’t managed to burn anything so that’s nice,” Jeongguk eats a spoonful of mashed potato. He knows he really needs to shut up and regulate his emotions, but he just can’t help but be sarcastic.
Once more, the silence won. However, Jeongguk’s mother is the type to not back down.
“You should think about getting married soon, Jeongguk—” she starts. Jeongguk feels himself grow cold as if on instinct. 
“—and this time, we want you to marry someone your level,” she finishes. Jeongguk felt his heart twisting so painfully that he didn’t notice how tight he held on to his cutlery.
Jeongguk swallows the once-repressed pain that used to consume him whole. He knows this is futile because he never dares to face his regrets square in the face. Instead, he allows the pain to make him angry. He allows his resentment to consume him in ways he doesn’t know how to handle and in a pained effort to avoid causing further damage, he remains quiet. Unresponsive. Cold. Withdrawn.
But his own mother is even more cold-hearted than he is. She is the one who made him like this.
It’s her fault.
“You need to marry a good woman who can keep up with your social status. Remember you’re not just anyone, Jeongguk. You’re a Jeon. And you have a legacy to uphold,” his mother condescends. 
Tears start to sting Jeongguk’s eyes, but he doesn’t want to let his mother win. So he keeps still.
“I have a few prospects for you, dear. We should set dates for them, don’t you think so? I chose the most refined and educated—” Jeongguk hates how his mother knows how to push his buttons and hurt him.
He knows that his mother knows his ultimate weakness.
You.
And because his mother cannot contain her insecurities and prejudice, she projects it all on her son. But most especially, you— whether you were in the room or not.
Jeongguk’s mother continues her monologue. His father miserably fails to become the referee (he always does). Heat starts to rise Jeongguk’s neck and he swears he could hear his own blood pumping through his ears. What almost immediately follows is the high-pitched ringing that only he can hear. 
Jeongguk starts to feel dizzy; like he’s about to lose control.
But instead of releasing, instead of crying, instead of getting angry— he does none of them. 
He finds himself standing up, his hands dragging the plate full of food to the ground. With all his might, Jeongguk tries to breathe deeply.
“That’s enough, mom.” Jeongguk croaks. A tear escapes his eye. “Please.”
Jeongguk rarely addresses her as “mom”. But in times of vulnerability and helplessness, it’s the term he ends up using.
“As I expected… you are still weak, Jeongguk.” his mother states with absolutely no remorse.
Jeongguk feels like he is about to throw up. To save himself, he drags his legs to leave the dining area. Housekeepers try to help him, but he brushes them aside. Security guards around the house up until the gate tried to support him, but Jeongguk just waved them all off.
He just needed to get away before his vision completely blurred. He needed to get out of this godforsaken house.
It was a miracle that Jeongguk got far away from the house as he had. But in doing so, he felt physically weaker and weaker. His mind isn’t done with him yet as thoughts of you start to resurface. His chest starts to tighten again. He feels cold and afraid and tired.
Jeongguk falls to his knees on the side of the road; he allows his body to go limp and fall to the ground. 
He barely remembers what happened next.
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When Jeongguk opens his eyes, bright, stale lights greet him. 
He hears beeping, faint footsteps, a voice over an intercom.
He feels something brushing his leg so gently that it takes him a while before realizing that someone is standing over him, wiping the edge of his slacks.
Jeongguk squints his eyes to get a better look at the person touching his leg. When he tries to elevate his upper body, the person in front of him feels him moving.
Jeongguk couldn’t believe who he was seeing. His panic attack must still be happening because it was impossible.
It was you.
“Oh… hi,” you start. Jeongguk is at a loss for words so he continues to stare at you.
You immediately feel self-conscious so you start to wrangle the damp cloth you were holding. 
“Are you okay? Hang on, I’ll call the nurse—”
You start to leave, but Jeongguk catches your wrist. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. You look at his hand on your wrist before Jeongguk lets go of it.
“W-what happened?”
“You’re at the hospital… um, I– I got a call from them saying you were here,” you say.
Jeongguk’s eyebrows met. He is still confused as to how or why the hospital would call you. As he looks at you, in the flesh, in front of him, the familiar ache in his chest threatens to overwhelm him again.
You look as beautiful as ever, even more so than the last time he saw you. The last time he did, you were crying to him. He did that to you. That was his fault.
“Are you hurt, anywhere, Jeongguk? I think I need to call your doctor, just give me a second—”
“No… please. I’m okay. I don’t feel any pain.” Except for my broken heart.
“Oh… okay.”
Jeongguk observes you, more particularly your hands. You still have that habit of fiddling with your fingers when you didn’t know what to do, he thinks. 
“H-how did the hospital call you? You didn’t change your number?” Jeongguk is a hundred percent sure his choice of questions was dumb, but he doesn’t have any idea as to why you’re here.
“The hospital told me I was your emergency contact… they uh– they only found your wallet on you and found this,” you explain as you handed him his wallet. Inside was an old piece of paper with your emergency contact number and e-mail address.
“The e-mail address is now defunct, but my number is still the same because I had it reactivated when I came back here…”
When I came back here, Jeongguk repeated to himself. 
Jeongguk wanted to ask you a million questions, but his throat feels dry and he is unable to speak. 
“I um, I also called Yoongi. He should be here any minute,” you continue. When Jeongguk looks at you funny, you give him a small smile— the first one you’ve given him since he woke up. “We talk sometimes.”
There is a lot of information that Jeongguk needs to process but his head hurts a lot and he makes a mental note to interrogate his friend later.
You move to grab and open the plastic bag that is on the bedside table. You pull out a pair of black socks. Jeongguk sees you hesitate a bit before speaking again.
“I got these across the street… your socks got wet from the rain.”
“Oh.” Jeongguk feels really dumb.
“May I?” you tentatively ask. “Your feet will get cold if we don’t—and you have the IV on so you won’t be able to use your hands—”
“It’s okay…” Jeongguk’s response startles you. “Thank you.”
You nod and sit by his feet to put on the new socks. Jeongguk feels the tears again but he tries to hold them back as he feels your touch and your warm fingers graze his bare, cold skin. When you’re done putting them on him, you smile to yourself.
“Does that feel better?” you ask.
Jeongguk nods and hums. He took his time to look at you and to his mild surprise, you reciprocated. A sense of stillness seemed to occur like time stopped just so Jeongguk could fully take in the sight of you.
He hurriedly tries his best to memorize all your features—old and new. Your face is smaller, your cheekbones higher; both indicative of you losing a bit of weight since he saw you last. Your eyes are softer, but also more tired. You also grew out your hair. 
To Jeongguk, you are still so beautiful.
And he missed you so much that his heart hurt again at the thought of losing you.
“How are y—” Jeongguk tries to ask, but the door to his hospital room slid open, revealing a disheveled Yoongi.
“Jeongguk, are you okay? What happened?”
Jeongguk notices you quickly moving aside to give Yoongi room. 
“I’m fine, Yoongi. I guess I just passed out and—”
“You had another panic attack, Jeongguk. That’s the second time this week. Have you taken your medication?”
Yoongi’s string of questions had Jeongguk feeling anxious. He just had the unexpected chance of seeing you again but under the most dire circumstances. Surely, it wasn’t the time for you to hear about his mental health issues.
“Yoongi, can we—” Jeongguk tried to save face, but Yoongi was faster. 
Yoongi turns to you and hugs you. “I’m sorry, ____, you must have been so confused.”
“No, not at all, I’m… I’m glad I could be of help,” you reassure. More so for Jeongguk because you know this must be very awkward for him. 
A bit of awkwardness did happen because none of you spoke for a bit. Your phone ringing was the only saving grace.
“Hello? Oh, okay. I’ll be right out,” you answer the other person on the line. Hanging up, you say, “Um… I should get going.”
“Is someone picking you up?” Yoongi asks.
“Yes, Taehyung’s just a few minutes away,” you answer.
Yoongi nods and pulls you in for another hug. He whispers his thanks and you respond by hugging him tighter.
You also approach Jeongguk a little closer. “Take care of yourself, Jeongguk.” You see the pain in his eyes, but you refuse to acknowledge it to yourself, even if Jeongguk’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears and his nose was already pink.
Jeongguk doesn’t want you to go. But again, he has no choice but to let you.
“You too, ____.”
As soon as you close the door, Jeongguk allows his tears to fall.
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As soon as you get into the car, Taehyung asks his questions.
“Why the hell did you just come out of a hospital?”
“Tae—”
“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? You’re the only one there? What happened?” You can feel the panic rising in Taehyung as he inspects you, but you just chuckle.
“Yah—you laugh?”
“I’m fine, Taehyung,” you tell him but he doesn’t look convinced. “I really am.”
“Then why were you in there?”
“I saw Jeongguk again, Tae,” you calmly respond.
Taehyung freezes. “You’re joking, right?”
“I’m not,” you answer.
“And you’re… are you okay?”
“I am.”
Taehyung knows you better than that but he gives you a pass because he could also tell you were tired and your short answers mean that you didn’t want to talk just yet.
“Do you want to talk about it over ice cream and fries?”
For a second, you felt tempted, but you just also wanted to go home. “Maybe some other time, Taehyung.”
Taehyung understands immediately and nods. “Should I take you to Woosung hyung or do I take you home?”
You do want to see Woosung because you know he is what you need, but you also don’t want to burden him with a bombshell of an event so you opt to be alone for the night. “Take me home, please.”
“Okay, ____,” Taehyung answers.
The rest of the car ride was a quiet one.
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The short walk in the hallway leading to your home is a heavy one. As you punch in your passcode, you deeply sigh. You want nothing more than to collapse on the bed and ruminate on what just happened over the past few hours.
However, the moment you open the door, a wave of delicious scents welcomes you home. As you take off your shoes, you see a familiar pair. You smile to yourself as you place yours beside it. 
You enter your home further and see Woosung with his back to you, working his way in the kitchen. As if on cue, Woosung turns around and walks toward you. 
“Hey you,” you say with a smile.
“Hi,” Woosung responds, gathering you in his arms and pulling you into a tight embrace. “Did you have a good day, today?”
You feel yourself swallow once before nodding. Woosung, ever the sensitive boyfriend, holds you tighter.
You know you can’t hide from him. So you hold on to him tighter, too.
And you allow yourself to break down and cry.
Woosung feels your body shake and he runs his hand across your back to soothe you. 
He may not know what’s going on right now, but he also knows you will talk to him when you’re ready. So he continues to embrace you; kissing the side of your head after a while.
Woosung whispers against your ear, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart.”
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taglist: @whoa-jo @nays2112 @junecat18 @jk97bam @butterymin @smdnai
tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!
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sweetlyskz · 6 months
Text
Emerald Gem||Chapter 3
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Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|Chapter seven|Chapter eight|Chapter nine|Chapter ten(finale!)|
Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x fem!reader
Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one the talk to but the pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stable upon your deserted farm, everything changes.
Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff
Warnings: Suggestive themes, language, mentions of abuse and trauma
Word count: 1.5k
Unedited
He was avoiding you. You could tell. He made it very obvious. Each morning you woke up, he was going to sleep. And every night you went to sleep, he was just waking up, but he didn't dare leave the room, for fear that he would run into you.
Joon was still being Joon, and the Situation with Jimin made it worse. You weren't sure if he knew what happened between you and Jimin, but you didn't ask to find out either. However, he was eating more and more. At least he can trust you enough to eat your cooking. That's progress, right?
Before you knew it, the boys had been with you for two weeks. Some of them had become pretty comfortable. Taking the advice Taehyung gave you, you bought some cat scratchers for Yoongi. All of the wolf hybrids in the pack would go in the backyard to let all their energy out, except Joon. He just watched over them, scolding them whenever they would chase the chickens.
Jungkook was your new best friend. He stuck by your side like glue, your big buff teddy bear. Yoongi was quiet, reserved. He spoke to you often, but he tried not to talk for longer than a couple minutes. Jin and Taehyung were the best of help. He always cook meals, and when it's time to farm, he never lets you do anything yourself. Hoseok was still timid and flighty, but he was loyal. This group of dangerous hybrids was slowing becoming a loving family... very slowly.
"Seriously Tae, get your own!" Jungkook and Taehyung were fighting over the new snacks you had gotten them. One thing you learned about about kook was that he was very territorial over his belongings. That's why you had a specific drawer of snacks with his name on it.
Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to stop Taehyung.
"Just one bite, please!" They were playing tug of war with the bag of chips. Jungkook was winning. "You have a whole box of them! I can't have just one?"
"No! You can't", he protested. While trying to tear the chips from Tae's grasp, the bag rips, chips flying in the air and landing all over the kitchen.
"Look at what you did!" Tae accused, bending down to pick everything up. A broom would've been more efficient but he wasn't sure where you kept it. "Hurry up and help me clean before Y/n sees it!"
Swiftly, Jungkook helps pick up the salty potato chips. Before exiting the kitchen, they look around one more time to make sure there wasn't even a single crumb on the floor.
And with that, the argument over the chips was over, never brought up again...
You noticed that Jimin loved hanging out in your greenhouse, admiring all of your colorful flowers. You wanted to give him some space, but while watching him walk around the greenhouse you had the urge to join him.
"Those are vincas, by the way", you whispered loud enough for him to hear you, fiddling with your fingers.
He appeared to be startled by your presence- rightfully so. His mouth hung open, looking as if he wanted to say something. You stoped him before he could get the chance.
"Before you say anything. Let me just apologize first-"
He shook his head. "Don't. There's no need to apologize. You did nothing wrong... I should be the one apologizing. I know that hybrids and humans aren't allowed to interact i-in that way- very selfish of me."
"What are you talking about?" You may have done a lot of research on hybrids, but you never did any on their relationship with people. Maybe you should've...
"In the lab they always told us..", Jimins mind went back to the days he wished to never remember.
The lab was cold, ice cold. Stuffed in cages, the wolves shivered, huddled together for warmth. One by one, the men in lab coats sedated the wolves, fearing being bit by them.
"This one is feisty!" The researcher laughed, holding the hybrid by the spikey collar as the medicine kicked in. The others in the cage kicked and pulled on the metal bars.
"Please! He's tired, he can't take anymore!" The pack leader begged. "Take me! Take me instead, I'll do anything."
The researcher came up to the cage with a cane, banging it on the bars. "Listen here, mutt", he hissed. "Each of us have a part to play. Your is to be obedient to your superiors, understood?"
The other men laughed and applauded him for putting Joon in his place. "That's right! Show him what happens when mutts defy humans..."
Everyone in the lab agreed, shouting as if the lab had become the coliseum. A fox hybrid ran up to the bars, getting down on his knees, head pointed to the floor.
"Please excuse him, sir. We know are place is and will always be behind these bars. Please have mercy", he pleaded.
The researcher smirked. "Always remember your place. You will never have what we have. No human will ever want you, not even as a pet- definitely not as a lover. Remember this- your barely human, and will never be treated as such..."
Jimin was heavily drugged up, laid out on the surgery table. However, what the researcher said, his words- Jimin remembered every last bit of it. It still rang in his ears. You will never be treated as human...
And so, if I'm not going to be treated as one, why try and act like one? Why not let my wolf counterpart take over? These thoughts dangled over Jimin's head. And with those thoughts, he used every last bit of his strength to stab one of the researchers with a knife- the same knife they were gonna use to rip him open.
Namjoon grabbed the other man through the metal bars, choking him until his eyes rolled backwards. Jimin rolled off of the table, and the rest is a blur.
Next thing they knew, the men in lab coats were dead, and all of the hybrids in the lab were freed by Jimin's hands. With how weak he was, it truly was a miracle. He saved the lives of over a hundred hybrids.
The next few months after, these hybrids hid in the woods, using their primal instincts to survive. Maybe those men were right. Maybe they were never human to begin with.
That's what they thought, but those thoughts went away when they met you. The person who was kind enough to let them in their home, give the somewhere to rest their head. It was you. You were their person.
But sadly, you couldn't erase the damage that had been done. You couldn't get rid of the bad memories, the mistreatment. And that moment you showed a bit of affection for Jimin, he was elated, but the voices started speaking to him.
And then men in the lab coats came to him saying, this won't last forever...
***
"Why didn't you tell me? I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable in any way!"
Jimin told you his story, his deep-rooted fears. You both laid in a field of daisies as he confided in you. It's difficult for you to explain the emotions you were feeling as he told his past. Sympathy? Rage? Both?
"Because... A part of me- actually all of me wanted to. I want to be yours. But the thoughts- they're stuck in my brain and resurface every time I get even a little bit of hope." Jimin's head hung low, picking the flowers from the fresh soiling and plucking each petal one by one.
She loves me...she loves me not... she might love me?
You grabbed his hands gently, holding them between yours. "Look at me", you asked him softly. He obeyed, of course.
"You are half wolf, that part is true. But Park Jimin, you are human! You more human than any human I've ever encountered! You're kind, charismatic, and the most thoughtful person I have ever met.
Your words brought tears to his eyes, and seeing him cry made you eyes swell, too. You enveloped him, hugged him tightly- but not too tight. Just enough to show how much you mean it. Then you placed a loving kiss on his forehead.
"You deserve this, Minnie." The new nickname perked his ears. You could tell he liked it. "You deserve life. An amazing fucking life."
"T-thank you", he whispered. "I- I can't thank you enough."
"Don't thank me. Just get better. Seeing you hurt makes me hurt. And seeing you scared makes me scared. I swear on everything I love that you will never go back there, or anywhere."
"But, once Joon is ready, we'll be gone", Jimin confessed. "I don't want to leave, but he also has his own story to tell."
You pondered, never daring to remove Jimin from your grasp. Maybe you can convince him to stay permanently? Maybe there is something you can do to ease the pain...
"Don't worry your pretty little head, just rest." You gave his hair a fluff, earning a cheesy smile from him. And just like that, you both napped in the field of daisy, his arms wrapped around your waist and your hands holding his head close to your chest.
You have to make things right...
~Taglist! (closing soon!!)
@yoongicatcat @wifflepuff1344 @unwillingly-oblivious @shycreationdreamland @emer-syn @rinkud @amimami1991 @singukieee @nikkiordonez12 @xicanacorpse @cestlabellemort @whipwhoops @spider-thot0115 @ddaeng-angmoh @silscintilla @readerofallthingss @welcometomyworld13 @danielle143 @kookiesbunny @yoongiigolden @woozixo@anaspectoflife @blackrockshooter780 @famousdelusionobservation @jewishmommy @talyaaas-blog @eashmo @jaiele @kaceypdf @reallysparklychaos
~Permanent taglist!
@famousdelusionobservation @marblemoonstones @stupendousliteraturewritingoaf @fearnotfimmie @v-love @tired7o7
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koostarcandy · 1 year
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whole damn world
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summary: a night where jungkook and you just can't fall asleep. ensue the cutest night you've ever had, including karaoke, chicken, watching modern family and loving on your adorable son.
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: fluff, fluff and fluff.
wc: 923 words (issa baby 🤕)
a/n: guess who's gonna drop this and then pull a jungkook :]
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"you're just fake snoring now, it doesn't even help!"
"i counted 837 sheep, sprayed our pillow mist and even played the dreamy lofi playlist we made and it got over. i have to resort to other measures, sweetheart."
you gasp, sitting up and throwing off the comforter, suddenly running to the living room. jungkook's tired brain short circuits, glancing around the room to see if you running wasn't something he dreamt of.
"baby?" he throws on a tshirt and quickly follows after you, "why are you running? did we miss an episode or something?"
"you said we tried everything but you forgot one thing, silly!" your eyes look akin to those of a detective who's pieced a puzzle they've been chasing to solve, fingers rapidly flying over your keyboard. he watches you in amusement and adoration, settling behind you and wrapping his arms around you. his eyes match yours now when he finds you ordering chicken from his new favourite restaurant.
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"damn," jungkook lets out, "soy garlic chicken supremacy, okay?" he says aggressively and cutely, you note, his furrowed eyebrows letting you know that he was finishing the box, even if the moon laid to rest and the sun came up to start its daily duties. you're absentmindedly tracing the clock tattoo on his upper arm, midnight chicken and beer getting you quiet and sentimental.
your human pillow notices the comfortable silence from you, starry eyes following gloria delgado's rant about how the men in her family don't talk to her. "can see and feel you staring, koo." you turn your head to his side, lips lifted up at his adoring attention, eyes still focused on the tv. jungkook removes his gloves, downing the last of his beer. he nuzzles your neck, taking your homey and comforting scent. he pulls you impossibly closer, scattering kisses on your neck, tracing up to your cheeks. your eyes finally fall on his, peeking through his long bangs. its at level 3 now, you remind him proudly everyday, tying tiny braids and squishing his cheeks for your weekly change of wallpaper.
"you wanna play with my hair, don't you?" jungkook reads your mind, smiling when you nod sheepishly, already taking out the silk scrunchie which was holding his hair back in a sprout. he sits in between your legs, settling in comfortably. this is one of your favourite activities, carding your fingers through his soft and silky hair, watching the curls bounce when you brush through them.
you have nothing particular bothering you today, watching him grab the remote and shift to youtube, pulling up the karaoke version of dreamers, "lemme put on a show, baby, just for you," he says sincerely, getting up and letting bam sit on your lap now. he waits for the song to start, laughing when he looks at you looking unbelievably small behind bam.
you both never fail to cheer him on, giving him song requests and watching bam run around him, keeping up with his intense choreography. jungkook dramatically falls on you, giggling at your open mouth, mind still stuck on his sudden cover of unholy. "cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" you punch his arm weakly, "you've had too much to drink tonight, honey," you retort back, laughing at your equally weak attempt to get him back. he straddles your lap, letting himself fall on you like a weighted blanket. and he's your favourite type, made of love and cosy comfort.
you look down on him, the beer chugging finally catching up with him, his droopy eyes catching yours. "hi, my love," he giggles, turning his head to find bam nosing him, "and hello, my bamie!" he sits up slightly so he could shower the pup with kisses, booping his brown nose with his finger.
you watch the interaction with endeared eyes, finding your day incomplete without seeing the both of them, happy and content. you weren't planning on crying tonight, it wasn't in today's plot of your unusual night and you certainly didn't expect tears to fall down like waterfalls down your cheeks when you hear jungkook say, "you both are part of the most important people in my life, never forget that, okay?"
you immediately lift your arm to cover your eyes, sniffling and crying like your husband just returned from war. said husband from war is on you in an instant, holding your face tenderly. "i didn't mean to make you cry," he says, leaning his forehead on yours and willing himself to not cry. "happy tears, koo, we're fine," you reassure him, pulling back to place a kiss on his lips. you push his hair back from his forehead, tying his hair in a loose ponytail. his eyes trace your feature with starry fondness, pulling your neck so you're looking at him again.
jungkook sighs, making you tilt your head to the side in curiosity. he kisses you tenderly, leaving another one on your forehead.
"bamie, house, it's late and i just remembered we have to go to the doc's, so sleepy time, okay?" he says firmly yet gently, giving the doberman a forehead kiss. he doesn't go until he gets his customary forehead pat from you, which you lovingly give him promptly.
"he knocked out quickly," jungkook says quietly, getting up and settling on the couch. he pulls you up so you're on his lap now, nosing his way to your neck and sighing in content. "he got that from me," you say, giggling when you get a playful glare and apologizing half-heartedly, squishing his cheeks in retaliation when he starts tickling you.
jungkook holds your waist, making you go still, "god," he breathes, "how is it that when i look at you, i see the whole damn world?"
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pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @jinsquishes ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference ; @indgio ; @jjkeverlast ; @parkdatjimin ; @yoogijk ; @starlight-1010
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bellaofthevalley · 5 months
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Savanaclaw: in Ailment
just a cutesy probably ooc leona sickfic text in italics and bold is text messages. text only in italics is thoughts.
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Won't be able to make it to our breakfast date. Sorry Leona </3 will make it up to u promise! <333 
Leona stares at the text with furrowed brows, his tail twisting behind him. Every little move it does speaks volumes about his confusion and worry, but no anger; he knows his darling isn't the type to cancel their dates randomly for no reason, especially one he knows you'd been really looking forward to. It had taken a while of him nagging you for you to admit you really, really wanted to try a particularly expensive but beautiful and highly-praised spot. 
Expensive for you, but quite cheap for Leona. Leona, who hadn't wasted much time before he'd reserved a spot. So for you to now text him this…. It is concerning. 
And then he gets another text before he can ask you why. 
Sick :( don't wanna make u sick 2 :(((
Leona huffs, raising an eyebrow. Idiot. His favourite idiot, but still an idiot. If you thought he'd just simply let you be, you were sorely mistaken. 
I'll swing by the doctors. Do you need any specific medicine? 
(You'd laughed once, about how his formal training as a Prince shines through his texts. He always, according to you, used right spellings and punctuations.) 
Noooooo!!!! stay home nd nap i can brave thru this!!!! 
No, you really can't and shouldn't. Leona snorts at his own thoughts, finally pocketing his phone without answering. He's in his room already, so all he has to do is pick up a bag that contains a gift for you and then, just like he'd said he'd do, swing by the doctors to pick up some common cold and fever medicine, and then he leaves the palace. 
He doesn't go to your home right away, though. He stops by a shop, picks out several ingredients all fresh and new for a chicken broth, and then he finally goes to your house; it's in a quiet neighbourhood, though your place is quite visible simply because you like having a colourful garden and vines with blooming flowers that crawl up your walls. Some of them were luminescent, so they glowed soothing shades in the night, perfect for sleeping under in your back garden. 
But now isn't the time to think about that.
Leona doesn't need to knock; he has a copy of your house key, and uses that to enter your home. In the quietude and the closed drapes that leave the house dim, the only thing he can make out right away is your soothing scent, stifled by your sickness. 
And then he hears your coughs, broken only by your sneeze, and he knows he has to act fast. 
Chicken broth doesn't take much time to cook, so he gets working on that while simultaneously cleaning around your house… which is already clean, so he knows you'd either already done it and made yourself feel worse, or was so sick you couldn't leave your bed in the first place. 
Leona sets the broth to simmer, picks up his gift bag, and climbs up the stairs to your room. “Darling? It's me, Leona.” he calls, hearing your rustling and moving in your bed before he reaches your room and sees you. 
“Leona?” voice scratchy, your head pops up from the blanket you'd cocooned yourself in. Your hair was flying up in every way, and your eyes were droopy, barely awake. But you're aware enough to pout frown. “Didn't… didn't I say not to come here?” 
“No.” Leona easily replies, putting his hand on your forehead. Too hot, and yet you were still shivering…. Which wasn't that much of a surprise when he sees you're only wearing a tank top and some shorts. In winter. But chiding your right now would just make you feel worse. 
“Leonaaa…” You whine quietly, closing your eyes. Shivers go down your body, and you try to bury yourself more in the blanket. “So cold, so tired, so sick…” 
“I know, doll,” he sighs, taking the blanket off you even when you whine again. “Come on, let's change you into something warmer and take you out of this room. The air is stale here.” 
And here is where he pulls his gift out; a lion onesie, thick and fluffy and worlds warmer than your current clothes, and faintly smelling like him. Leona helps you change into it, feeling you lean against him. 
“Warm,” Your whisper is soft, wiggling your toes in the onesie while Leona fixes your bedhead so tangled hair doesn't irritate you. “And soft. Comfy.” 
“Good.” he replies, finished and setting the brush down. Winding his arms under your back and thighs, Leona carries you downstairs to the living room, to the couch. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Dunno… not hungry.” You sigh when he places you down, curling up immediately in his arms before he can leave to bring you the soup. “So… tired. Should've dressed warmer when I went out a few days ago.” 
Leona wraps his arms around you, pulling you to rest on top of him. The house is warm now, the smell of chicken broth curling in the air and your body safe and sound in his embrace, shivers subsiding and your eyes blinking slower and slower. 
“Sleep, doll.” he whispers against you, kissing her temple. His lips linger on your skin, hands massaging down your back. His magic wraps a blanket around you, freshly tumbled and dried, and he feels you melt even more against him. 
 “I'll take care of you, I promise. Always.” 
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Masterpost
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lovekendri · 1 year
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kids forever | peeta mellark
peeta mellark x fem!reader
request: may i request peeta x fem!reader fluff? just sweet friends to lovers, fake dating is always welcomed too!!
i absolutely love this! i literally wrote this at 2 am because i was in need of some peeta too. i hope this is what you're looking for, and i love writing requests, so keep them coming! ♡
summary: you realize you're in love with your childhood best friend while you try to stifle him with a pillow.
cw: tooth rotting fluff, shy!reader
wc: 1.8k
type: ❀
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"Kids, time for dinner!" your mother called out, peeking her head out of the door, the setting summer sun beginning to burn your cheeks.
"Coming!" you yelled back, grabbing Peeta's hand. He dropped his chalk on the rough, pothole covered ground and followed behind you, his feet dragging on gravel.
You pushed open the screen door of your little cozy home, sunlight shining through the freshly washed windows, yellow summer glows and pink burnt cheeks on all of your family.
You pulled out a chair at your old, tethered wooden table, ready to enjoy your mother's delicious dinner, fresh chicken from the market, roasted carrots, fresh berries, and carrot cake for dessert. The dinner was special for tonight, as Peeta had come over and your father was paid at work.
"You guys dating yet?" your father joked, sitting down and taking a bite out of his chicken.
"Dad!" you whined, "We're only 7! He has cooties," you pouted, crossing your arms and giving your mother a pleading look to stop your father's teasing.
"Now, now, Mark, let's not give her ideas," your mother said, winking at you and sitting down to eat her own delicious dinner.
୨୧ ---------- ୨୧
"Peeta!" you shrieked, running down the hall to your room from the feathery pillow gripped in his hands, sliding on your socks as you slid around the corner. You jumped on your bed, holding your smaller pillow up in defense from his aggressive whack, trying to fight him off by kicking your feet.
"That's not fair! You can't kick!" he yelled back, smacking you repeatedly with the pillow, sending small feathers flying out of the pillow.
"You always did when you were a kid!" you shrieked back, finally landing a kick on his forearm.
"Ow!" he yelled, dropping the pillow and jumping onto the bed with you, taking your pillow and trying to smother your face with it, his full body weight on top of you while he struggled against your arms to push it onto your face.
"Ew! Mom, look at them! They're wrestling on the bed!" your little sister yelled from outside the door, Peeta stopped dead in his tracks and looked at you, his jaw dropped, your expression mirroring the exact same.
"Kids! I will not be a grandmother to two sixteen year olds!" your mom yelled from the kitchen, coming down the hallway with a basket of freshly dried laundry.
"Mom, we're pillow fighting, like we did as kids!" you said, frowning as she walked into the doorway.
Peeta was still on top of you, pillow half pushed onto your face, and your mother gave you a look of 'really'.
You nudged Peeta off of you, getting off of your bed to go talk to your mom.
"Just because we're teenagers now doesn't mean we're going to do anything, mom," you said. "Let us hang out."
Your mother sighed, a smile creeping up on her lips as she switched the hip the laundry basket sat on, looking at you.
"Behave."
You shut your door the second she turned away, jumping onto Peeta and tackling him with the pillow that he tried to smother you with. You fought hard, his arms a lot stronger than they used to be, his body a lot bigger and much taller. In good ways, of course. They made him look older, more attractive.
Wait, why were you talking about your best friend like that?
The yelling and laughing stopped as you paused again, staring at Peeta like a deer in headlights.
"You okay?" he asked quietly, his eyebrows knitting together in concern as you went quiet.
"Yeah, I just need to use the bathroom," you lied, immediately hopping off of him and rushing down the hall to the bathroom.
You slammed and locked the door, turning your back and sliding down against the wall.
You began to think about him, the way his muscles moved when he fought you, the way his arms strained against your body weight when you'd try to shove him over as you did as kids, how tall he had gotten. You thought about his broader shoulders, his longer hair, his defined jaw, and his beautiful blue eyes. His eyes had stayed the same, but carried so much maturity. The boy who carried so much of your childhood had changed, he was much more attractive and unspeakably amazing to look at. You thought again, over how attractive he had become. You thought once more about his arms, the thick biceps he had developed, able to throw you over his shoulder when you'd try to run from him in the square.
Your best friend had grown up.
You wondered if he thought about you like this, but you knew he couldn't. You were falling in love with your best friend, something that couldn't happen. Friends since forever, never more than that. He was only that cute blonde boy you met one day in the square with your family when you were six, the baker's boy, the goody-two-shoes who made bread for your mother's dishes.
You knew your friendship was all fun and games, there had never been any more than platonic love in your relationship, a shared love for one another that was unspeakable. Like a brother.
Now, it was different.
You were looking at him like a partner, like someone you'd see in your future, more than just a friend.
You felt love.
Not just the family love you felt to people like your mother and father, or your sister, real love.
You were in love with Peeta Mellark.
Your childhood best friend, your favorite cookie maker, your brother from another mother, your chalk buddy. Yours.
You sat on the floor for almost another twenty minutes, contemplating on whether or not you should just tell him, tell him how you're thinking, tell him what you're feeling. Tell him that you love him.
You figured he was growing concerned anyways, so you took a deep breath before unlocking the bathroom door once more.
You walked down the hallway quietly, peeking your head into your room and seeing Peeta still laying on your bed in his sweatshirt and jeans, playing with a feather that had flown out of a pillow.
"Peeta?" you murmured, his head snapping up immediately to you in severe concern.
He hopped off your bed immediately, coming up to you swiftly and grabbing your hand.
Your body erupted in butterflies, your face raising a rosy tint.
"Are you okay?" he asked, covering your hand totally with his.
"I'm okay," you said quietly, looking down to hide the blush on your cheeks. "Can I talk to you?" you croaked out.
"Of course, what–"
You shushed him, still holding his hand and leading him to come sit on the bed once more.
He sat down next to you, layers of concern still growing on his face as you sat down, scooting far enough on the bed to cross your legs underneath you. You sat quietly for a few moments, looking down at your lap as you figured out a way to say it.
"I need to tell you something. I don't want to ruin our friendship," you whispered quietly, now realizing that what you believe is out, and your throat began to burn at the thought of losing him because of your stupid love for him.
You began to play with his fingers in your lap, too afraid to let go. Peeta moved to sit the same way as you did, his body turned toward you.
"You can tell me anything," he said, placing his other hand on your knee.
You took a deep inhale and a quiet exhale, sitting quietly for another few moments.
"I like you," you paused. "And not just the like you like a friend, like– like like you, like– love you,"
You didn't dare to look up to him, too afraid to see the expression on his face, whether it was fear or hurt or disgust. All were terrible. He was dead silent, and tears began to well in your eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it–" you began, until his hand moved swiftly from your knee to your lips, pushing your chin to look at him.
"I love you too," he whispered, his beautiful blue eyes searching yours for happiness, for an emotion of something for reassurance.
"You do?" you asked, your jaw falling open slightly in surprise.
"Of course I do, I've always liked you. I've liked you since the day I saw you in the square, little six year old me. I've liked you since I watched you learn how to draw a flower with the silly pink chalk your dad would give you. Since you learned how to ride a bike, since we had our first dinner together. I've liked you since the day I taught you how to make bread, and how to frost a cookie. I've liked you since you met my mother and made fun of me all night for my taste in food choices, I've liked you since the first night we watched the stars together."
Your jaw dropped more in awe, staring at him as tears coated with happiness filled your eyes.
"I've loved you since the day I laid eyes on you."
The tears finally fell, and you threw yourself against Peeta, sobs of happiness racking your body as his arms flung around you, squeezing you tight against him like he wouldn't let anyone take you from him.
"Don't cry, you'll make me feel bad," he laughed, you could hear the cracks of tears in his voice.
"You shouldn't cry!" you said, pulling out of his embrace and looking up at him, a tear slowly falling down his cheek. You took your hand, shaking a little, and wiped the salty water off of his face.
You couldn't help but give him a small peck on the lips.
"Woah," he said. "That is so different from when I kissed you on accident when we were eight."
You laughed, truly laughed, your hand still holding his face from wiping his tears.
"I know."
The night outside finally grew dark, though it wasn't entirely late, it was late enough to go to sleep.
"Would you...stay with me tonight?" you whispered, fiddling with his hand. "Maybe...cuddle?"
"You don't have to ask twice," he smiled.
Your face lit up, pulling him by the shoulder and slamming down into your bed, snuggling up close to his body, engulfed by his arm and tight against his chest. He held you close, the sound of his still racing heartbeat making you giggle quietly. You pushed your leg on top of his, wrapping your arms around his neck and snuggling into the warmth once more.
"Can I say it just one more time?" he asked, squeezing you playfully.
"Not if I do first," you giggled.
"I love you," he said, wrapping his other arm around your back to hold you closer.
"I love you too, Peeta."
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main masterlist | my profile | thg masterlist | request | proof-read: ✓
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king-krisu · 3 days
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Super deep and way too much reading into -analysis of kot kot incoming
Okay but I'm convinced that kot kot is literally it's crazy it's part 2 in that Jere feels like his life is an endless party 365 days a year and he can't escape, and he feels like he's doomed to dance (mut on tuomittu juhlimaan).
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I think the first teaser we got will maybe be like the last beat drop where, after he's talked about how draining it is to constantly be in demand and how he can't give himself a break, he goes back to the old "silly family friendly" Käärijä we all know. Bcs that's what the first teaser sounded like, kinda silly and simple lyrics with a sound even kids might like, just like how CCC became popular amongst kids here. And he feels tired and trapped by this persona the chickens, we the audience, have created for him that he feels like he has to live up to. Other artists, 'the smart ones who went to bed', realised earlier than him to rest and to prioritise their own health, while he pushed on and almost burned himself out. Just like ICIP, with the verses being about endless parties and no escape, and the chorus being a bit silly and a mindless party song you wouldn't think twice about.
Also I feel like them using stripping was a way to really hammer home how he's just another entertainer for the chickens to enjoy without having any regard to his personal wellbeing. (I'm not saying that strippers = exploited people, it's just the most blatant way to express that in a visual way). The chickens laugh and drink in the video while Jere provides them something to look at, even though they don't even seem to really pay much attention to his performance anyway. Kinda like how at shows with a lot of 'normies' people only really care to see the silly ccc guy, and don't gaf about his other songs. It also reminds me a little of NYE when families demanded he go and perform CCC for the kids bcs "well why couldn't he just stop by real quick to make them happy", and he did even though it meant 3 performances in 24h for him. Not to mention he had to fly back from sweden and 2 of the performances were outside in -19 degrees.
Idk, to me it just reads a little bit like Jere not being sure how to navigate being extremely popular while having most people in this country not really understand his music, bcs it is a very unique genre. I might be so completely wrong and he could read this while laughing but that's my interpretation of it so haista vittu Jere if you're reading this 🫶🏻
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Text
Chicks & Candy
SERIES MASTERLIST
WARNINGS: pregnant!reader, a slight misunderstanding, fluffy fluff, flirty wives ofc, not smut but a little soft/steamy make-out sesh
WORDS: 1,104
PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x f!Reader
A/N: felt #emo while writing this oopsies !!😹😹😹
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Sure, you had your reasons to be mad at her. You were pregnant and it was probably the hormones, but she still majorly fucked up with her innocent wording. On top of it, the summer heat always put you on a tightrope just waiting for you to fall, her accidental words just pushed you off of it.
She had come back home from a meeting at the Avengers tower and saw you waddling her way with Alex strolling behind you. “Hi darling!” you draped your arms on her shoulders, “hey you cute little chicken.” she smiled. Oh, how naive. She didn't mean for you to take it the wrong way. You furrowed your brows in confusion, “chicken?” oh God. She heard the change in your tone as you questioned her. “No– it's just that y'know you're like.. a mother chicken and– Alex, he just followed you like a little baby chicken. I–” you glare at her and move your arms off her shoulders, crossing them over your chest. “So, you're saying I look like a bird? A stubby bird with feathers that can't fly properly.” she was done for.
So here she is, contemplating her life decisions as she sat in the car parked in front of the house. “Mama why no home?” the toddler asked Natasha. “It's because.. mommy is upset at mama, buddy.” she huffed as she looked down at the candy in the shopping bag. Blue, green, red, and purple colors of fruit flavored hard candy. You mentioned craving jolly ranchers right before she left for the meeting, and here she is, hoping you forgive her little mistake over candy.
After a few minutes, she decided that you might have calmed down and she left the car with Alex. “Mommy I' home!” that dumb little– Nat, that's your son. Shut up. He padded through the hallway and snuck into your bedroom, “hi sweetie! Mommy missed you, c'mere.” he gave you a gummy grin and crawled into your arms. “Ugh, I hope this one is gonna be as chubby and cute as you.” you mumbled against his cheek as you squeezed him tightly. “I‐ can't breathe–” you let go of him and pinched his chubby little cheek. “Mommy! I' not a baby anymore. I' a big boy!” his complaints and huffs turn into giggles as you tickled him. “Babe?” you peered up at your wife at the doorway. Completely ignoring her presence out of pettiness, you continued tickling the toddler.
“Baby?” you chewed on your inner cheek as you attempted to ignore her once more. “Detka?” you couldn't hold in the laugh that escaped your mouth at her desperation for forgiveness. “What is it, Natty?” you finally met her eyes, “I'm.. sorry. For calling you a chicken.” she handed you a green apple flavored jolly rancher. “It's.. it's okay, darling.” you stifled a laugh as you popped the sweet candy into your mouth. “Alex, honey, there's some candy in the kitchen. Go get some buddy.” he gasped and jumped out of the bed, running towards the kitchen.
“Natasha.. you dirty little– close the door,” she smirked and shut the door close. “I'm sorry for being overly emotional.. I wasn't feeling this way when I was pregnant with Alex.” you spoke up as she sat in bed next to you. “It's okay, moya lyubov, don't apologize.” she grasped your hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I hope you know that Alex is.. distracted by a toy car set I left for him in the living room.” she whispered as her gaze flickered down to your lips. “mhm..?” you move over to her lap, “yeah.” she smiled as she nipped at your lips. You felt her tongue glide over your bottom lip, “you're so beautiful, detka..” she rasped as she pulled you in for a slow kiss, tasting the sweetness of the candy in your mouth.
“You think?” you mumbled against her mouth, “well why else would I have gotten you knocked up?” you roll your eyes and lightly punch her on the bicep. It did nothing considering her strength. “oh my God, do you always need to ruin cute moments, Tasha?” she whines as she pushes your body closer to hers, “is the moment back?” she said as her hand rested on your thigh, slowly creeping upwards. “Maybe..” the corners of your lips quirk up into a soft smile. “'Maybe'?” she snaked her arm behind your waist, pushing your breasts against her chest. A silent moan slipped past your lips, “Natasha..” she had a cocky grin on her face as she groped your breast through your clothes. “mm..” she cocked her head to the side and spoke up, “what about cute moments being ruined?” God, why is my wife so insufferable?
“Nat.” you gasped softly as she snuck her hand under your shirt. Well— her shirt that you for that, but she can't get upset at you for that, you being pregnant with her 2nd child is a good enough excuse. You let out a sigh of relief as her cold palm gently rubbed your stomach, soothing your overheated skin. “Does that feel okay? Am I hurting you?” she asks as she continues her gentle movements, “y-yeah.. it feels good, don't worry. Keep going.” you gripped onto her muscular shoulder as her other hand went up your bra. “Natasha.. darling, be gentle.” she peeked up at your face, understanding that she was touching your sensitive areas. “I will, babe, shhh..” she lightly kissed your neck, slowly sucking at your pulse point. You whimpered quietly as your grip on her shoulder tightened.
“Have I ever told you that you look sexy pregnant?” you groaned at her words, “yes, yes you have. My annoying, mood ruining, wife of mine.” she feigned a dramatic gasp, “I don't ruin the mood.” you scoffed. “Two years ago, when I was pregnant with Alex. It was hailing outside and—” you get cut off with a pair of lips over yours, “yeah, yeah, shut up.” she squeezed your waist and locked her lips with yours. Natasha, you bitch. I love you.
“Can someone play cars wif meeeeee?” you heard Alex from the other side of the door. “Nat. Go play cars with my cute little chicken.” you muttered against her lips. “Chicken? So you were pretending to be mad at me.” you giggle as you move off of her lap, “maybe I was, who knows? Now go give our son attention.” she chastely kissed you before leaving the bedroom. “I love you so much.” you smile, “I love you too.”
You wanted him back. Your cute, chubby little chicken.
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iruiji · 2 days
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SAGAU but Creator Reader has been tagging along with the Gourmet Supremos.
If you didn't know or have forgotten, Gourmet Supremos are one of those quest series that is randomized because some part of the questline can only be accessed with dailies (like Whispers in the Wind or Snezhnaya Does Not Believe in Tears or Garcia's Paean).
This questline spans from Inazuma up to Sumeru. I think there was 6-7 quests in total? I forgot. (it's 8).
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(These are Julie, Parvaneh and Xudong in order.) There are more characters that made a cameo in here but we'll just limit it with these three.
Context dropped, onto the short HCs.
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• Okay so, I didn't really read the whole story of this one so I'm just going to make some random HCs on the fly. I'm aiming for a goody-feel with this one so no heavy angst will be involved.
• Alright, so. Xudong is the leader of the Gourmet Supremos, and he only found you because when you land in Inazuma, you literally dropped into their camp and was about to steal a sausage from Julie's backpack (but there were so many ingredients there!!!)
• Xudong was fuming, lmao.
"THIEF!! SOMEONE, HELP!"
• Aight, geez, made you run a marathon there.
• The next time you've met, all three were together and they saw you roasting some lavender melon in some dilapidated tent you found while walking aimlessly. Hey, better than no shelter at all. For some unfathomable reason, your inventory only consists of food materials - with everything, and I mean everything, missing.
• God damn. It's like the heaven is telling you something. 🙄
• Anyways, yeah. So for some reason, the only access to the goddamn ingredients are locked, and you can't use it and you don't know when you would be able to use it, so you have to scrounge up whatever pitiful sources you can get.
• Sadly, it's mostly lavender melons.
• Like, you already made several dishes from this and it's really starting to grind on your gears, so you took a dive in one of the caverns and found some meat and was happily grilling it with the melons when the trio came out of nowhere.
"Thief!"
The hell. "I didn't get the sausage, though."
"But you still tried to!"
"I mean, I was dying of hunger, so.. you know."
Julie, bless her heart, gets in between you two. "It's fine, Xudong. They needed help, did they not?"
"But-"
This time, Parvaneh chimes in. "As they've told you, they didn't get anything, so let it go. And you." She points at you with calloused finger. "Who are you?"
That caught you off guard a little. Told them your name and, to Xudong's bewilderment, started chatting amicably with you. Some time later though, he softened a bit but still a little cautious. They traded cooking tips with you, and, to their utmost surprise, you exchanged many tips on cooking as well.
"How do you know all this?" Xudong asked as you finished explaining the difference between sauteing onion and garlic first.
"Oh. I'm uh, a professional chef back in our place. Been years though, so yeah." You replied as you took a bite of their chicken. "Holy shit, why is this so good?"
Julie and Parvaneh just smiled proudly.
• So like, you became a new addition to their team - but you actually specialize in desserts. Xudong has many a great views in cooking, as well as the two ladies, and together you journeyed the whole of Inazuma for rare ingredients and made some two or three journals that have been since published and loved by people. (The fangirling/fanboying is real when you saw Xiangling's message drooling about your own version of Tiramisu).
• One day, however, you lot came across a shrine - it doesn't look abandoned, oddly, but it looks really, really old. You asked them what's the deal with this one, and they explained about the Creator.
Oh.
You're in SAGAU?
Shit.
"People said they've come back, but we don't really know.."
Double shit.
• With that knowledge, you try and avoid the main cities as much as possible and only let the three buy on populated areas. Thank God they didn't really notice you suddenly covering half your face with a mask - which you only shrugged when asked.
"I like masks."
Fair enough, they suppose.
• ..oh fuck, is that Yae Miko?
"Ara, and who is this?"
Xudong, Julie and Parvaneh bows and you hastily followed.
"She is our new companion, Lady Miko."
She looks at you with an impish grin. "Oh?"
... "Yo."
Nice.
• Coming across the main characters from the game are very, VERY rare. You can actually count on one hand the characters you've met:
Yae Miko;
Thoma (he was going around asking for favors as usual and you bump into each other and only had quick apologies as interaction);
Kujou Sara (she was patrolling the area and asked about your mask - which you replied that it's part of your outfit. damn, her glare was fucking menacing!);
Kuki Shinobu (you were side to side buying groceries once), and lastly;
Kamisato Ayato (you actually didn't meet - you just saw him giving speech in a podium for some event you just came across).
• You figured, hey, maybe you're NOT the creator or whatever. And just tried to live normally after some time. The mask stayed though, because you just survived the pandemic back here and was cautious.
• About a year and six months with the team, Xudong suggested you come all to Sumeru to expand your knowledge. Holy shit, yes please!
• ..and then you met the Traveler on your way.
"Your Grace..?"
Triple shit.
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😭 sorry for disappearing for about a year - i was too lazy finishing anything. And now, I added another idea not to finish on the list 💀 wrote this whole thing in like 30 minutes motivation really is a wonderful thing, huh?
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