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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying.

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer.

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm.

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant.

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines.

John’s icon dims.

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to.

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you.

He tried to call as often as he could.

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down.

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic.

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.”

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening.

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind.

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?”

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work.

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth.

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together.

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad?

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears.

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.”

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted?

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him.

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind.

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with.

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present.

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…”

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear.

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?”

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring.

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts.

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor.

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs.

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.”

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin.

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing.

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?”

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation.

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.”

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords.

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else.

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences.

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips.

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends.

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute.

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later.

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?”

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?”

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name.

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed.

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click.

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms.

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat.

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening.

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh.

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.”

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod.

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.”

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room.

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.”

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight.

You steel yourself and raise the box.

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair.

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully.

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm.

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead.

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders.

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed.

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship.

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!”

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly.

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.”

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it.

Pregnant.

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly.

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts.

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss.

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold.

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again.

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.”

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.”

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.”

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.”

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second.

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.”

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child.

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.”

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.”

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave.

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

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eccentricwritingbaby · 6 months

Text

baby, incoming!

carlos sainz x fem!singer!reader

summary - you and carlos have been married for over a year now and you’ve gone MIA. what could be the reason? new music or a new beginning? maybe both?

fc - emrata

masterlist

Liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, yourusername and 345,765 others

scuderiaferrari our boys are ready, tifosi! are you? #MexicoGP

username they are so attractive its crazy

username lets all pray ladies and gents that there will be a ferrari double podium

username now that is a reach but im right there with you

carlossainz55 ready as always!

username do we think yourusername will actually be there… she hasnt been to the last like 4 gp’s

username idk but im hoping mothers absence is bc of a new album drop

username omggg pleaseee ive been needing her music

charles_leclerc <3

“and you’re sure you’ll be alright while i’m gone, mi amor?” carlos asks you for what feels like the hundredth time as he is packing up his suitcase. you sigh, walking out of your shared closet and placing another one of his clean ferrari polos into the suitcase and then heading to take a seat on the bed next to his luggage.

“quierdo, soy perfecto. i am pregnant, not dying. now please stop worrying about me while your parents as well as mine stay down the street. i am not alone, mi amor, and you are my first call if anything happens,” carlos listens carefully as he forgets about packing momentarily to come stand between your legs that were dangling off the bed, you reach out as he moves closer to hold both of his hands in yours in order for him to receive the message fully, “porfa, i will be fine just like i have been before,”

carlos gives a quick squeeze to your hands and a brief kiss on your forehead as he soaks in the words he was just told, “yo sé, cariño. i just hate missing everything and leaving you while you need me,” the guilty, solemn look on his face is enough for you to quickly stand, remove his hands from yours and wrap your arms tight around him.

he reciprocates the hug quickly with his hands finding your waist with a firm grip, “mi amor you've been there for me constantly and will be there for our baby once they come; besides me being stuck at home will finally give me an excuse to finish out my album so you have no reason to feel guilty,” you slowly loosen your grip in order to look into his warm, inviting eyes yet his hands never leave your waist.

he gives you a short kiss and then begins to speak up once more, “i just wish we could announce you’re pregnant already so that i could be with you, i hate being apart already and this just makes it harder,” he leans his forehead on yours as his hands disappear from your waist in order to lightly begin caressing your small yet prominent bump, “i know, my love, but my manager would kill me if she could not find a way to make one short announcement work in my albums favor, even if it means capitalizing on my baby,” you say with a short laugh.

carlos just smiles on with you by saying, “welcome to hollywood,” there is then a small kiss, a finished packing job, a sad goodbye and then a long plane ride for carlos as he arrives for the mexico grand prix.

carlossainz_fanpage looks like carlos is riding solo again, now for the mexican gp … trouble in paradise? new music? baby bump? who knows but i miss our mother

username it looks like hes still wearing his ring in the pictures of him arriving and all the ones ive seen

username oh thank god bc i cannot handle being a child of divorce rn

username me neither i rlly hope its the complete opposite and us children are gaining a brother or sister

username omgggg i hope she is pregnant she’d just be the cutest

username pleaseeee i need an album from her its been like two years now i cant take it

username RIGHT?! she got married and abandoned us :/

you had already received a text from carlos telling you that he landed and was heading to his hotel and then the paddock and he would call you later.

something about his words earlier had been sticking with you all day in the back of your head, ‘i hate being apart already and this just makes it harder’.

you and carlos had known each other before the fame with your parents being friends and the both of you have dated throughout it. you rarely were apart as you would go to almost all his races and travel with him and in turn during his breaks you would tour and he would tag right along. it had always worked beautifully since the flexibility of your job allowed you to work from ultimately anywhere, therefore why not spend it following and being with the love of your life? the distance from carlos was difficult, not even remotely from distrust or anything negative, just the simplicity of missing out.

you made a fast but firm decision and began to pack a bag. you gave a quick call to your mother in law informing her of your plan and letting her know you’d be by soon to drop off the dogs and then she began to insist she even drive you to the airport.

she has always loved you like a daughter for as long as you and carlos have been together claiming ‘she is just so good for him, no sé’.

then there is a quick flight, a large hoodie thrown on, and a pregnant y/n waiting right outside carlos’ hotel door.

your hand is brought up and with a sharp knock you stand still simply waiting. carlos takes a minute to open the door and as he does his eyes immediately light up, “y/n!” he makes haste to pull you into his room and into his arms immediately, “qué haces aquí?”

“ay! you’re asking me what i’m doing here instead of a long i love you my beautiful wife thank you for coming,” you mock and joke as he continues to rock you back and forth in his hold.

“lo siento, amor, gracias para coming all this way,” he leans back to look into your eyes while one of his hands finds its way to your bump,

“i was just confused because everyone is going to see, no?” he continues. you nod and begin to laugh while saying, “to be completely honest, carlos, i dont give a fuck. my fans will either buy my album or won't, it doesn't depend on our child. and i for sure am not going to miss out on seeing you race or rob you from any papi/baby time just for a stupid album,” he listens to you speak while his eyes begin to glisten over with happiness, “y/n, i’m so happy porfa can we post now so that i can take you out to a nice dinner and we can actually be people again,” he finishes off his sentence with a laugh.

you just simply smile, nod and give him his answer in a long-awaited passionate kiss. “gracias dios,” he whispers against your lips with a small sigh as you just let out a giggle.

you were a bit nervous before but now after being with carlos and seeing his relief you know you made the right decision.

yourusername and carlossainz55 baby sainz coming soon <3

comments on this post have been disabled.

y/ncarlos_updates PREGGERS Y/N ARRIVING IN THE PADDOCK TODAY!

username holyyyyy shit she looks so good

username MOTHER IS AN ACTUAL MOTHER

username and our daddy is about to be an actual daddy!!

username they are going to be the most attractive parents ever

username stop im so happy for them this is so cute

username their entire childhood bff to lovers trope and now they’re having a baby like dream come true

username no fr its like watching them grow up before our eyes its so cute

username shes still got such good style even when pregnant i am green with envy rn

username that makes two of us

username u just know the gc is blowing up rn with which driver is going to be godfather

username we all know that if it is a driver itll be landonorris

landonorris damn right

username WHAT THE FU-

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vanderlesbian · 8 months

Text

141 dating a civilian

hii!! this is a self indulgent belated bday gift to myself (im 20 now...) but i hope u guys enjoy it!! also feel free to leave requests in my asks bc i am so bad at thinking of prompts but ive been wanting to write so bad LOL

writing this had made me realize that i love writing gaz content........i am obsessed with him.........

gn reader! no warnings :)

masterlist

captain john price

- price loves being around you—you bring a sense of normalcy that relaxes him. when he's home, he enjoys doing domestic things around the home. he offers to do the laundry, he'll make you tea in the mornings, he feeds the dog and cat you two raise together and will go with you on any errands you need to run. when he's with you, he never thinks about work, which makes you happy because you hate to see him overworking himself.

- i feel like you two would meet through laswell. a mutual friend, you and price would meet one another at a pub or something of the sort. immediately, the two of you take an interest in one another, and laswell would catch onto that rather quickly and finds it endearing. when getting to know one another, you mention the fact that you live alone, which gives price the excuse to hand you his number. "in case you need anything", is what he told you, and you could've sworn you saw laswell snickering behind him. regardless, you ended up texting him a few days after that, asking him if he knew how to fix cars.

- loves going on vacations with you!! when price has a decent period of time off, he'll ask you if you want to go somewhere, to which you always answer yes. road trips are his favorite, because driving for long periods of time is something calming for him and he enjoys the fact that it's just the two of you traveling. maybe you'll go camping, or perhaps you'll drive a country over to spend a few days in a different city; whatever it is, you and price always have a nice time. while he gets to travel a lot, he recognizes that you don't have the same opportunity, so he loves to take you places as see your reactions to things. when he's deployed, he's always on the lookout for places to take you later.

- one of your favorite things to do is visit price while he's in the office. you usually bring him a meal, whether it be home made or take out because you know he's going to forget about grabbing himself something to eat. he always thanks you with a kiss, then you linger for a moment to speak to him, giving him time to eat and take a break from his work. while you're visiting price, all of his attention is on you, and if a soldier knocks on his door and asks to speak to him, he'll use his captain voice to tell them to come by later unless it's an emergency.

- price is very proud to call you his partner. although he tries not to bring you up too often at work because of privacy and professional reasons, he likes to mention you casually every now and then, especially with laswell or the other 141 members. he's proud of the work you do, no matter what your career is; he's just likes to brag about his amazing partner. he will do his signature v shaped smile whenever someone says in surprise,"oh, your partner is a/n [occupation]? how cool!"

simon "ghost" riley

- ghost is a listener, not a talker. and boy, does he love listening to you ramble on about your day. he finds it cute; the way you complain how expensive your coffee was that morning, or how you couldn't decide what to wear to simply go pick up a snack from the store. his responses include a lot of "oh really?", "i bet", and some snarky comments when you bring up a coworker that you don't particularly like. ghost is quiet, but his little responses show that he's well invested in your stories.

- just like everything else in his life, ghost keeps his relationship with you very private. it took him quite a while to even tell any of the other 141 members that he was in a relationship, simply because he didn't feel the need to tell them. he also wanted to protect you; not that he didn't trust the other members, but he was scared of your name accidentally being said to the wrong person. you were innocent, and ghost didn't want to ruin that innocence with the dark realities of his job and put you in danger.

- listen; meeting him at a music store. you would definitely be the one to initiate things, so when you saw a tall, handsome man flipping through records beside you, it made you look for an excuse to speak to him. "that's a good album", you would then finally speak up after watching him pull out a vinyl by the doors. ghost would honestly be taken aback; no one ever really strikes up conversation with him in public. "yeah" would be his response, but the dryness of it didn't stop you from continuing the conversation. after you two begin dating, ghost will often bring up how you were insistent on speaking to him, which never fails to bring a shy blush to your cheeks.

- you think it's amusing to have such a "scary" looking boyfriend. he tags along behind you whenever the two of you go out, and you often forget how large and intimidating he looks to others, especially because he always wears dark colored outfits and a face mask out in public. imagine ghost lingering behind you like a lost puppy while you mindlessly look through clothes at a store. when you're at the register, you notice the cashier glancing behind you, forgetting that ghost is looming over you like a bodyguard.

- speaking of others reactions, you love showing ghost off to people. you'll be spending time with friends, family, coworkers—whoever, and you get so excited whenever they ask if you have a boyfriend. you think it's funny to see their eyes widen when you pull up a photo saying "this is simon, he's deployed right now but (blah blah blah)". you had asked ghost for his permission to show photos of him to others while he wasn't around, and at first he was hesitant, but after hearing about the reactions he gives people, he doesn't care anymore. people think "that's their boyfriend?", which makes ghost smile to himself because yes, he's all yours.

kyle "gaz" garrick

- you two have this thing where the moment he opens the door after coming home from a mission, you'll sprint into his arms and he never fails to pick you up off your feet and squeeze you tight. gaz greets you like he hasn't seen you in years, covering your face and neck in kisses and spinning you around in his arms for what feels like forever.

- loves to facetime you when he's away. sometimes you'll be in different timezones, but both of you will be willing to stay up at 3 in the morning jusst to talk to one another. gaz always gives you room tours of whatever place he's staying at while deployed, or he'll call you while he's out shopping to ask what souvenir you'd like best. sometimes the other 141 boys will pop in to say hello, or gaz will shove the camera in their face to ask if they have anything to say to you.

- i feel that gaz would easily become jealous, especially because he can't be with you all the time. while he's away from you, you'll text or call him about an encounter at work or while you were out and about where someone tried hitting on you, earning a snarky remark from gaz. they always make you giggle because you're aware how protective he is of you, and they're often silly remarks like "they're lucky i wasn't there" or "should've told 'em your boyfriend is 6'5 and a wrestler"

- gaz is younger, so i feel that you would be a university student or something of the sort when you first met him. working part time at a local coffee shop at the time, you vividly remember gaz complimenting you the first time you served him. "you're very pretty/handsome, by the way" he said confidently, but quickly walked off before you could thank him. after that, gaz came in as often as he could, learning something new about you each time he came in, and it got to a point where you would simply give him a drink or pastry for free each time he came in. eventually he would ask you out, offering to take you somewhere after your shift, to which you immediately agreed to.

- when gaz visits your place, it's always like a silly little sleepover. the two of you will watch comically bad movies, make homemade pizza, play those couple's card games and he'll listen to you talk about any gossip you have. when gaz is with you, he takes it as his time to just be himself because he's so comfortable in your presence. he doesn't have to worry about being formal with you, and the two of you are equally as silly as you spend time with one another.

john "soap" mactavish

- soap doesn't like to bother you with his work. when he's with you, he'll always be so upbeat and playful, but you've learned to be able to notice when he's particularly stressed or tired. he insists that he's fine, telling you that you don't have to worry about him as he tries to play it off. he's a bit stubborn about it, so sometimes you have to bother him just a bit before he finally gives in and tells you what's up, or simply agrees to laying down and having a rest.

- okay, picture this. you meet soap at a dog park. i think he would have a german shepherd...which is besides the point, but when your dog and his both stop in their tracks to be friendly with one another, both of you feel that it's only natural to make conversation, right? the two of you quickly hit it off, to which you credit mostly to soap for being much more extroverted than you are, and the two of you talk about your dogs for a bit before the conversation focuses on yourselves. smoothly, soap would ask for you to join him on another trip to the dog park sometime, using the excuse that your dogs seemed to like each other.

- soap loves to text you while he's away, and other than gaz, he would be the one to text you the most out of any of the boys. he mostly sends a lot of random pictures of things he says reminds you of him, but will also update you on a bunch of random little things he's doing. "just shit in this french bathroom" "johnny i don't need to know that" "had to tell somebody"

- will leave plenty of his clothes for you to wear while he's gone, and it's practically all you wear during that time. you'll leave the house in an outfit completely made up of your boyfriend's clothes because they're just so comfortable, and it makes you feel less lonely having his scent lingering with you. even when soap is home, you still constantly wear his clothes, and 90% of his wardrobe is practically yours.

- soap would love to visit YOU at work. you forget your chapstick? he's on his way. you text him that you're hungry and forgot to pack a meal? he's bringing you your favorite fast food. although he's busy and can't stop by all the time, soap tries to stop by as often as he can, and all of your coworkers have learned to recognize him. "here comes johnny" one of them will point out, making you quickly whip your head around to look.

#i STRUGGLED with soap sorry #x reader #fluff #headcanons #cod #mw2 #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #john price #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #domestic #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine

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dozing-marshmallow · 7 months

Note

Pls i NEED more Chris McLean x reader. I NEED😭🙏 ive read everything of him on here😓

So pretty please something like chris mclean x wife reader and like, the whole tdi cast gets to meet her bc they didnt believe that Chris had a wife at first?😇

TRUST ME WHEN I SAY I feel the exact same way😫 I love Chris so much and it’s such a huge pleasure that I can write for him while having other people who love him enjoy it as welllll. I will be writing him for a very long time so you can always expect something new evolved around him to come up ;)<3

CHRIS MCLEAN X WIFE! READER HEADCANONS

Having your daily hug with Chris, the tender moment reminds you of what he told you earlier.

“Were you being serious when you told me the kids laughed at you when you told them you were married?"

“Mhmm.” he responds from underneath you,“They called it a sick joke and told me that stand up comedy was way in my league.”

“Aw darling.” you kiss his forehead,“I’m guessing you’re gonna ask a favour for me to stop by to prove them wrong?”

He raises an eyebrow,“What do you mean? Stand up comedy is in my pursuit. I just don’t prefer it, doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.”

He can be so silly sometimes,“I meant your marital status, baby.”

“Oh, yeah...” he holds onto your wrists,“Please?”

You let your body relax completely on top of his, still smiling,“Your wish is my command.”

“Aw what’s the matter, McLean? Couldn’t your wife make it?” Duncan was the first to pick up on ridiculing Chris, eyes still puffy from his chronic cries of laughter from last night. On another circumstance, Chris would’ve been fuming, had he not have reason to smirk.

“How sweet of you to worry, Duncan!” the host begins off, clasping his hands,“But she’s made it in one piece!”

On cue, you walk into the mess hall, linking your arm with Chris’,“Hii everyone! So happy to finally see you all in person!”

All conversation died.

Everyone turns to you.

This woman they’ve never seen before...

His... His wife?

Were they hearing that right?

No way... He was being serious?

Chris was rolling on the inside at the shared alike look of being slapped spread across the contestants, especially of the mocking kind.

“I...didn’t know you had enough space in your heart to love someone else!” Beth’s the first to break out of her ice of shock to chirp.

“Surprised?” Chris chuckled, allowing you to introduce yourself, which was not what you guys decided.

“Yeah, I’m (Y/N)! This hot mess’ wife...” turns out improvising in front of teenagers wasn’t as fun as it sounded,“Sorry, I’m...not too good with words, so...help yourself to these cupcakes I made for you guys. I made them as a way to say how huge of a pleasure it is to meet you all!”

As you turn around to unwrap the trays, Leshawna clears her throat to privately address the cohort,"One of two things are gonna happen. One, those cupcakes are filled with maggots and hair. Or two, it's the first actual food we're gettin’ on this set."

Everybody nods in agreement.

They were right to inspect the wrapping and texture with their noses and eyes.

Yet didn’t expect to have the flavour of delicate buttermilk crumble on their tongues.

Oh my God...

Maybe they were deprived from having treats so long on the show, but it was unanimously categorised as a whole new delicious nonetheless.

The punk delinquent scoffs over,“Yeah... I’m not buying that’s his wife.”

“That evil maniac with a permanent smile is probably holding her hostage!” The ginger geek dramatically pinpoints.

“I can see why, these are too die for!” Owen squeaks, scoffing down an entire cupcake, wrapping included, not comprehending what situation it would mean for you if you really were abducted.

“Hm... Maybe he’s paying her.” Gwen suggests alternatively after taking another glance at you: it was your arm around him. Too touchy to be forced...

“I’d understand if he was hot like me, but he’s not even halfway there! Where would he find someone willing to do all that for him? No amount of money should convince anyone to ever lose their dignity for the likes of him." Justin criticises out of his internal debate of skipping the cupcakes or not.

“You’d be shocked if you’ve seen the fansite.” Noah opposes like it was the most known thing.

Speaking of which,"Sierra.” Heather directs, taking sudden control of the situation and everyone’s eyes to peel towards the superfan whose mouth was staining in the same dye as her magenta hair, perking up from her snacking at the mention of her name,“You know everything about everybody. Say, is Chris paying that woman to pretend to be married to him for laughs?"

The girl whose lifeline was Total Drama quickly swallows the last portion of her cupcake to appease her idols with a packed answer,“Oh, no! It’s all true! Unfortunately. Those two got married way before Total Drama was aired. A lot happened’s... My mom waited years for Chris to propose to her and there he goes, chasing after that nobody! Do you have any idea how painful it is to see my mom’s husband having an affair? (Y/N) is nothing but a block of concrete, blinding Chris from seeing his true soulmate! A.k.a my mom!” The last few sentences gradually grazed with personal prejudice, but not enough to throw the next cupcake away.

“Wait, but if Chris did get married to your mother... Wouldn’t that make you his stepdaughter-?“ Alejandro posited, already having a hard time imagining Chris take that role biologically.

"So Chris,” Cody interrupts the impending awkward ambient Alejandro’s phrasing would bring, steering the conversation back, still bewildered,“...really does have a wife."

Bridgette takes her slo mo time in grabbing another frosted vanilla good, rethinking, the same man that laughed at their pain,"I...honestly don't know how to feel about that."

"Huuu... I feel like I went overboard with cupcakes, Chris!” you freak out to your husband, fidgeting with the sleeves of your turtleneck,“Why did I pick to make something so childish? I should've picked something more formal... Like a dish from my home country..."

"Relaaaaax, no one else is thinking about that." Chris assured, biting into one of your delicacies.

You continued to murmur on,“I wanted to make something universal, a collection of sweets so in case one likes a certain flavour more than others... I thought teenagers around here liked cupcakes... I feel like such a fool... I hope they don’t think I see them as childish...”

He grabs one and holds it horizontally to your lips, painting them yellow,“It’s not just teenagers that like them, (Y/N). Besides, they are children. Children like things that are childish.”

That’s true... Your paranoia’s sunk,“Well... They seem to be enjoying themselves. I’ve been worrying for nothing.” you smile, drawing your finger on his stubble to take for licking,“You had some icing there.”

Turns out, you were really nice.

The angel to Chris’ devil.

The sun to Chris' moon.

The calm to Chris’ energetic.

“So (Y/N)... I just...have a quick question on behalf of everyone else.” The CIT girl shields her mouth with her hand, like she didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Of course, Courtney. Whatever would you like to know?” you welcome her, all kinds of possible questions cloud your mind.

She tightens your shoulders in her palms,“What the hell do you see in Chris?”

...You expected that one,“Why, I see a strong, handsome, hilarious man. A goal-driven, deep down caring, loving, in need of love man.”

Now the only true thing she heard was “goal-driven”- to kill them as spiritually as possible. Maybe even physically.

"You're not brainwashed, are you?" Her eyes widened like your answer had tossed her deeper in her horror.

"Get her to blink two times in a row if she needs help!" Tyler shouts, unintentionally defeating the purpose of being discreet from his clean intention.

"Hm?” Teenagers are so funny!,“It's not brainwash when it's love! After all, wouldn't you say you've found yourself in love with someone you never thought you'd be with?" You smile warmly at the type A when the butterflies fluttered an external reaction across her freckled face.

"Th-That's different!” she impulsively shrieked before closing her mouth in embarrassment. She looks around, and after making sure no one was judging her, she continues speaking, back to her whispering voice,“That’s Duncan. This is Chris.”

“Well, we both seem to have a type for the ones that went to jail, don’t we?” you wittily mention, giving her a wink to the similar parallel.

Leaving Courtney to her common dynamics contemplation, there was no better timing for Owen to ask if you had any more cupcakes to give.

“I’m so happy you liked them! I’ll tell you what, I can make more and send them to you."

“Don’t get too flattered. Bed crusher there would eat anything, even things you can’t call food.” The overruling antagonist scornfully gestures, her hair as black as her heart.

“...Ah, right.” you shouldn't have thought so highly of yourself over baking. To Owen, they probably weren’t good, just something to give his appetite.

“Well... That's not entirely true...” The foodie looks to the side uncomfortably for a moment from Heather’s harsh perspective,“Having eaten a lot of things gives me a solid judgement on a variety of tastes. With that said, I’d specifically be really happy to eat (Y/N)’s baked cupcakes again. You can't buy that kind of quality!"

Aw! “Thanks, Owen!” it’s no mystery why everyone was in his support back first season!

“You didn’t use any store bought cake mix, did you?” DJ asks, his naturally kind pitch of voice crunching up an otherwise accusing delivery his words may have played.

“Nope! If I was gonna have half of the ingredients already done for me, I may as well have just ordered the finish product.” the truth radiates through your magnetism, not as magnetizing as your husband, smothering you away in his arms.

For some reason, no one said anything right away. Like taking an exam, silence had scattered among these group of teenagers.

"I'm convinced she has Stockholm syndrome."

Up till Harold breaks it.

"Stockholm syndrome?! Come onn, you know that’s not a real thing!” Lindsay asserted, turning to Beth,“Is it a real thing?"

The nice-hearted nerd smacks a hand to her forehead. Rather than finding humor in uninformed Lindsay, Trent finds his eyes trapped on the sight of Chris’ hand holding onto yours, fingers locked, palms resting. Above all his faults, Chris...still had you.

That kind of love...hard to find, lucky to have.

211 notes · View notes

kumezyzo · 9 months

Note

i wonder if you can write something with sapnap having a really talkative gf who interacts a lot with his chat, but he kinda gets jealous bc his chat is always ´hitting on his gf' for fun, so idk maybe you could write something about how he would react to this on stream !!

this ask has been sitting in my inbox for so long 😭😭 im sorry!! again, im gonna assume this is nonstreamer!reader. and i dont think he would be seriously "jealous" of chat so i wrote it more jokey. he knows you only want him 😌

anyway, enjoy! or dont.... :) m.list

you two were sitting in nicks purple lit office, telling his chat about your day. he wanted to stream but also to spend time with you.

"and when we got back from lunch, we just took a nap," you laughed, looking at the chat. if someone started watching the stream on a whim, they would have assumed it was your stream.

as chats flew by, one caught both of your attention: 'id want to take a nap with yn any day ;)'

you scoffed and giggled, looking over at nick. he shook his head as he smiled at the chat.

"so, when i woke up, i realized nick woke up before me. and left me there!!" you said with a pout before you turned to glare at your boyfriend. "and i told you to wake me up when you woke up!"

"baby, i didnt want to wake you up," he said sympathetically. "you looked like you needed it." you pursed your lips and looked back at the chat.

'i would never leave yn like that smh' you read out loud. nick looks at the camera with a deadpan before looking at you with the same face.

"yn, you would have gone back to sleep," he said, trying to be reasonable. he smiled at you before realizing why this topic came up.

'he should have gone back to sleep with you' you read aloud again. "exactly!" you added, satisfied that chat was backing you up.

'i would have cuddled her 😌'

"guys, im right here! stop hitting on her," he said in playful exasperation. you laughed and leaned your head on his shoulder. he pouted and turned his head away from you.

"dont worry, nick, i still love you," you say with a smile flashed towards the camera. you kean in and plant a small kiss on his neck.

he turns back to look down at you on his shoulder. you pulled back and grinned at him. he rolled his eyes and gave you a peck on the lips.

he turned to the camera, "see, shes mine!"

its short. kinda cute. i dunno, i liked it. if you didnt... my bad? anyway. hope you enjoyed! ive seen all the other asks, believe me. im just working with the detailed asks for now cause those feel more demanding 😭😭😭

so, im sorry if you think im ignoreing your asks, im not! im just really bad at writing 😭 -Nony

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap x y/n #sapnap x streamer reader #dteam #streams

173 notes · View notes

wttcsms · 1 year

Note

Hihi i saw ur request box was open & i just couldnt resist! A big confession to make here, uhh ive been such a big fan of u and yr writings and also u were the v first fanfic blog i came across a couple years ago so yea, u literally open my third eye to a whole new world of fics👉👈 🥺

i feel like you havent written angst in a while–and bc i miss ur angsty haikyuu fics– sooo could i request post-breakup college!au with atsumu or iwai (honestly anyone who'd best fit the scenario cuz i trust ur characterization👌) abt the aftermath of the breakup, them seeing us on campus and unconsciously following us with their eyes, reschin to help out on instinct only to realize theyre no longer together, thinking about what could've been just reminisce reminisce

ahhhh im sry honestly dont know how to expand more on the idea

thank you for stealing my ficvirginity😃

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 2.1k content contains exes still in love, college!au, mutual pining author's notes hi <3 i remember you (eycee, right?). don't be a stranger! you can always dm me and say hello :) thank you for the constant support. not sure if this fic is angsty enough, but i wanted yours to be the first req i do <3

“Hi, welcome in! Let me know if— Oh.”

Your voice falters, recognition and maybe even something similar to embarrassment flits across your face, and a split second later, you go back to smiling like nothing’s wrong. Like the two of you haven’t spent the better half of this month actively avoiding each other at all costs, even though the sprawling acres of the University of Tokyo suddenly feels too small. The entirety of Japan has felt too small ever since it became his mission to never cross paths with you ever again.

This mission of his started just a little over two weeks ago, on the very same day you decide to use his heart as your own punching bag. The worst part of it all, though, is the fact that he doesn’t even hold any type of contempt for you. It’s a cruel sort of joke; sometimes, Atsumu Miya feels like everything bad that happens to him is just some sort of sick punchline in a sitcom instead of real life.

Usually, when girlfriends find out their high school sweetheart is going to be a wildly successful (and rich) professional athlete, they’ll do anything in their power to hang onto him.

You decided to snip the invisible string tying the two of you together, and you did it so effortlessly, so quickly, that Atsumu had to make sure that he hadn’t been imagining the last four years of your relationship.

He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s torn between staring at you like a total creep or looking at everything in the campus bookstore but you. He settles for the former, scared that this will be his last opportunity to really look at you.

Neither of you is saying anything. It’s a Saturday and so no one else is even in the bookstore this morning, and Atsumu wants to say something, anything, but he’s never been that great at carefully picking his words, and he’s scared out of his mind that he’ll say something stupid and prove once and for all that you had been right to break up with him. Better yet, he wants you to say something. He wants you to give him a better explanation instead of the bullshit you told him in his apartment.

We just want different things.

What does that even mean? He thinks he would have shouted out that question, if only your little break up speech hadn’t caught him so off guard. Different things? The two of you wanted different things? Sure, Atsumu likes to sleep in a freezing cold apartment, and you need the room to actually be at a reasonable temperature. And maybe Atsumu has a penchant for overly fried, greasy foods when all you want (and deserve) is a fancy dinner. Maybe Atsumu wants to be at a sports store instead of browsing aisle after aisle in Sephora, but he doubts these different wants have accumulated so much that you felt you had no choice but to break his heart.

“Hey, Miya.” You say it softly, dropping the perky customer service voice you greeted him with before you turned around and realized who he was. And he flinches. He fucking visibly cringes at the way you speak to him, walking on eggshells and going back to formalities like he’s barely above a stranger to you.

Miya.

(Did you know that he wanted to make that your last name?

Do you know that he still does, even now?)

“Hey,” he replies back, curling his fingers into fists inside his pocket. He thinks his voice comes out all scratchy, like how it always sounds when you don’t use your voice nearly enough. He clears his throat awkwardly. Everything feels awkward; everything feels wrong. He says “hey”, but what he really means to say is please don’t call me Miya; you know the color of my toothbrush, you don’t have to call me Miya.

“Were you looking for something?”

You.

Subconsciously, Atsumu finds himself seeking you out. He walks by another girl on campus and almost breaks his neck with the speed he turns around to catch a whiff of the perfume wafting from her body because he swears it’s the same fragrance you favor. He walks by the building that houses all the classrooms for your specific major, even though it’s located on the opposite side of his own classes because he secretly hopes against all hope that he’ll run into you, and you’ll see him and fall in love with him again. He goes to the same restaurants the two of you frequently ate at together, and he orders your usual because you can never finish your entire meal and always have him finish off the leftovers for you (and the food is always good, but somehow it doesn’t taste the same when your utensils haven’t touched it first). And he doesn’t even need to be here, doesn’t even care enough about his stupid class to go out of his way to buy the study guide, but he knows you’ve started picking up the weekend shifts at the campus bookstore, and suddenly, he cares enough about passing to get the damn study guide.

He shrugs. “Just some stupid workbook to study for an upcoming exam, but it’s not that serious.”

“Oh. Is Dr. Furata giving you a hard time again?”

“How do you do that?” Atsumu blurts out, wanting to kick himself for giving too much of himself away. You already own every centimeter of his heart and maybe his soul. You don’t need anything else from him; he’s almost certain there’s nothing left for him to give you, but he can’t help but impulsively ask the damn question that’s been running through his mind ever since you left him behind.

Did you know that when you’re confused, your brows furrow together, and you get this adorable, endearing crinkle in between them? Do you know that he still finds that same expression as cute as he did when you still called yourself his girlfriend?

“What are you talking about?”

How can you just stand there and act like you never crushed his heart? How do you wake up in the morning and not feel like your life is missing something important, like you’ll never feel whole again? How can you keep him wrapped around your finger, and then have the audacity to not even realize it? How did you let him go so quickly?

Practicing caution, he swallows hard before clarifying, “How do you know everything?” Because if you can act like he’s just a polite acquaintance, like he’s nothing more than another fellow classmate, he can try to play pretend too. He can act like there’s not enough history between the two of you to fill up every damn textbook in this stupid store. “Yeah, Dr. Furata’s been on everyone’s ass. Somethin’ about midterm grades being worth a quarter of our overall grade.”

“Believe me, you’re not the first victim of Dr. Furata’s to come wandering in the store. I think I have a few more of the workbooks he suggested in stock. Let me go check.”

It’s instinct at this point for Atsumu to just follow you. If he uses his imagination, it’s almost like he’s back to browsing in a makeup store, walking aimlessly in every aisle, following you loyally because he’s happy to have you lead the way and he doesn’t care where he ends up, so long as you’re there with him.

But this isn’t an afternoon date with you. This is him following a bookstore employee. After you find that study guide, which is really nothing more than his flimsy excuse for seeking you out, you’re going to ask him “card or cash?”, ring him up at the register, and he’s going to walk out that door and have to act like he’s still not in love with you. All the while, you’re doing fine. You’re fine right now, and you’re going to be fine when he leaves, and you’re probably going to be fine, five years down the line, when you’re happy with someone else and Atsumu is alone because in this little hypothetical, he still hasn’t gotten over you.

He is trailing behind you in this bookstore, and your back is facing him, and he’s panicking because he doesn’t think he’s capable of not loving you.

Just two weeks ago, you knew him better than anyone else in the world, maybe even better than Osamu, perhaps even better than he knows himself. Now, you just give him a polite smile as you grab the small stool to reach the books located at the very top of the shelf.

“God, I hate the way we organize everything in the store.” You say, lightheartedly complaining. He knows you do. He knows because he’s known you for nearly a decade. The two of you have grown up together. You made this same complaint sprawled out on the couch in his apartment.

When he doesn’t reply, you look down to see if something’s the matter, only to do it too quickly that you find yourself losing your balance. Before you can come crashing to the floor, Atsumu is quick to catch you, and you pretend that his protective embrace isn’t comforting. You pretend not to notice that he’s wearing the cologne you bought him for Christmas last year, and you continue to pretend that you don’t miss him at all, that you don’t still love him.

And for a second, the two of you both pretend that you’re still with each other. That it’s perfectly okay to savor this intimate moment, that his arms wrapped around your body right now isn’t awkward in the slightest. He’s staring at you with a sort of starstruck, boylike wonder, and it’s so familiar, so sweet, because it’s the way he always used to look at you. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something, and—

The loud ring! interrupts whatever moment the two of you are sharing, and you nearly jump out of his arms. You hear the distinct footsteps of another student, and you adjust your shirt before remembering where the two of you are — what the two of you are. Not a couple. Barely even friends. Just a bookstore employee and a student that needs a book. That’s all the two of you are allowed to be.

“I should probably go check up front and make sure they don’t need any help.” You tell him, biting down on your lip. “Anyway, did you need anything else, or would you like me to check you out right now?”

He blinks a few times, as if still in a daze. “Uh, yeah, sure.” The tips of his ears are flushed a light pink. “Y-yeah, I’m done here.”

The two of you practically race each other to the front of the store, and you step behind the counter to scan his workbook. He drums his fingers, looking around the store. When he’s nervous, he likes to be moving. You know this.

Just looking for an excuse to use his hands, Atsumu mindlessly picks a pack of gum off a nearby rack and slides it towards you so you can also scan it. You know you shouldn’t say it. You know it’s supposed to be a clean break. Instead, you tell him,

“Actually, if you want, I have the fruit variety flavor.”

“Huh?” This catches his attention.

You reach into one of the boxes that have just been shipped to the store, rummaging through a tiny one before revealing a shiny, new package of gum, this one advertising all the flavors based on tropical fruits. “Would you rather have this one?”

“Oh, yeah!” As if truly forgetting what the two of you actually are (exes, strangers with too much history, two people still pretending like they’re not in love), his eyes light up. “How did you kno—” He doesn’t finish the question. He knows the answer to the question.

You’re quick to finish ringing him up, the “polite strangers” illusion being completely shattered. It’s obvious, really, that there are always going to be parts of Atsumu that still live deep inside of you. You can only hope that this isn’t the case for him.

You hand him the bag, and when he grabs it from you, your fingers just barely graze each other’s. Atsumu is scared — scared that this might be the last time he ever feels your touch.

And because you’re a glutton for punishment, you find yourself telling him,

“Don’t be a stranger.”

You can’t tell who’s more devastated: you or him.

#atsumu miya x reader #miya x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #one shot #drabble #imagine #haikyuu fanfiction #wttcsms writing warmups #this fic is so taylor coded btw #'please don't ever become a stranger's whose laugh i could recognize anywhere'#< that's literally reader n atsumu rn #wanted to leave it vague but #reader breaks up w atsumu bc they're both going in diff directions in life and she doesn't want to 'hold him back'#EVEN THOUGH ATSUMU WOULD REARRANGE HIS WHOLE LIFE FOR HER AND FOLLOW HER ANYWHERE #but she wants him to do whatever HE wants

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 months

Text

Time With You

Hello everybody, happy 2024!!! I'm on annual leave (that i took to read hofas lmao) and decided to use this time to right this fic that has been in the back of my head for monthsssss but i hate using my laptop so never got around to writing it until now.

it does start out with Aedion's POV, something i dont think ive ever done, but it ends with Aelin's as this is a rowaelin story lol

as always, hope you enjoy!!

cw: brief mentions of death/grief, arobynn hamel being a POS. but otherwise its purely fluff bc i love human au rowaelin fluff

word count: 1500+

Aedion couldn't stop staring at his cousin—which sounded strange, but he had a very good reason for why his eyes were glued to his cousin; Rowan Whitethorn's hand was on her bare thigh.

And why was it on her bare thigh? He had no idea.

Aedion was aware that they were talking more, had become friends instead of constantly bickering, but he wasn't at all aware that their friendship had moved to the point where Rowan was resting his hand on Aelin's thigh.

And Aelin seemed to like the fact that it was there. He knew his cousin as if she was his sister—if she didn't want that touch, then she would remove it and bite Rowan's head off. It wasn't like she was a stranger doing that. One of their first conversations when Aelin had started at Orynth University had been a verbal spat; Rowan bumped into her and when Aelin asked for an apology, Rowan claimed that she had been in the way and that she should apologise to him.

And so that one conversation started years worth of petty arguments and forced proximity due to Aedion's friendship with the silver-haired man.

“Stop staring,” Lysandra hissed under her breath.

Aedion turned to his fiancee, and frowned. “How long has that been going on for?” He hoped that his cousin and Rowan couldn't hear him. All of their friends were at their local pub, the best way to catch up these days, the air outside in the courtyard refreshing after being inside a stuffy office. And when everyone got there, they had found that Rowan and Aelin were already there, occupying a tall table with stools—with only enough room for the both of them. And when everyone else went to the long benches that they always sat at, Aelin and Rowan stayed at their own table, talking amongst themselves.

“They've been talking for a while,” Lysandra said, her emerald green eyes sparkling from the warm fairy-lights strung up around the place.

Aedion's frown deepened. “What does that mean?”

Just then, Rowan stood up, the menu from the restaurant behind them in his hand, his wallet in his other and he leaned over and kissed Aelin on her cheek.

Aelin's smile was brighter than the sun.

“Since when does Rowan kiss Aelin?” Aedion asked his eyes about to drop out from their sockets and his confusion growing even more. He and Aelin were as close as siblings, but he could admit to himself that he did feel a little hurt that Aelin hadn't told him of this development.

With Rowan out of sight, Lysandra and Elide shot up out of their seats and made their way towards Aelin. Aedion followed after them, even though Elide said, “Women only, cousin.” Aedion didn't listen and stood next to Lysandra, patiently waiting for his cousin to speak.

XXXXX

It was a little embarrassing to admit it, even to herself, but with the moment Rowan put his hand on her bare thigh, all thoughts but one disappeared.

Aelin liked Rowan, a lot.

And when Rowan got up to order their dinner—and was insisting on paying for her—Aelin forgot that all their friends were only a few feet away, that there were strangers surrounding them, that live music was being played, but when he got up and left, and her friends and cousin were in front of her, asking question after question, Aelin had to mentally slap herself out of the stupor she found herself in and asked Aedion to repeat his question, but only because he was the one who spoke last.

“Are you and Rowan dating?”

“No, not yet.” And Gods, maybe it sounded pathetic, which she hated sounding, but she hoped that they would soon move on from this weird-limbo thing that found themselves in and would start seeing each other properly.

“When did you start liking him like that?”

Aelin shrugged, if only because it was too long of a story to get into right now. “I'll message you about it later.”

Aedion raised his eyebrow. “You promise?”

Aelin huffed a laughed when he extended his pinkie finger, his fathers ring gleaming in the fairy-lights. “I promise,” she said, wrapping her pinkie around his. “Now go, all of you, Rowan's coming back.” They all rolled their eyes at her, but did what she said and soon, Aelin found herself face-to-face with Rowan again.

XXXXX

Aelin was glad she left her car at her apartment, finding that the evening was nice and breezy without being too cold, because it meant that Rowan walked her home and held her hand the entire time. Her smile was so wide she knew that she would still feel it hours later.

Gods, she couldn't remember the last time she had been so...giddy about someone. Maybe in the beginning stages with Chaol, before their relationship fizzled out and they both realised that they were better off as friends (and they very much were; sometimes it was like they never dated for two years and lived together for one).

But this beginning with Rowan, it felt different. She didn't want to think too much of it, but Aelin...she thought to herself that it would be very easy to fall in love with him. How funny life was to go from heavily disliking him, to holding his hand weeks after she found in the park near the beach, his eyes teary as he sat in silence, his grief consuming him over the death of his late girlfriend, Lyria.

Aelin found herself at that same park due to her own grief over the deaths of her parents. They had been gone for years and years, but the time living under the harsh and cruel roof of her foster parent, Arobynn Hamel, still lingered, may always linger, as her therapist told her, but it was up to Aelin to decide what to do with those emotional and mental scars.

And they found themselves talking about their grief, their lives and wishes for their futures. He walked her home after that as well, and their friendship had changed after that, for which she was very grateful for—that there was someone else like her that dealt with dark thoughts and feelings, but was fighting each day to overcome them.

Shaking off the thought, Aelin blinked and realised that she and Rowan were just a couple of moments away from the front doors of her apartment building.

Rowan dropped her off at her front door, the scent of her favourite diffuser—camellia and lotus flower—greeting her as she opened her front door. Rowan cleared his throat and Aelin turned to him.

“It's your weekend off, isn't it?” he asked, his Doranelle accent still quite thick even after living in Terrasen for years now.

“Yes.” She was assistant manager of Havilliard Books. She and Dorian, one of her oldest friends and store manager, long ago worked out a schedule that worked amazingly for them both. And not only was she assistant manager, but she handled their stores personal Instagram page, and because Dorian's father owned the multiple stores throughout the continent, Dorian made sure that she received extra payment for keeping their page up to date and inviting.

“Did you have any plans this weekend?”

“No, I'm free all day.” She usually reserved Sunday for an apartment clean, but fuck that. She could clean later.

Rowan smile, his facial tattoo crinkling slightly. It was a work of art, that tattoo, the Old Language of Doranelle was stark against his golden-tanned skin.

“How about I finally take you out on a proper date? Starting from the moment I arrive here tomorrow morning and it ending whenever you want?”

Aelin's smile grew impossibly more. “I would very much like that.”

Rowan's smile grew too. “Good, then I'll see you tomorrow, Aelin. I am very much looking forward to it.”

Aelin reached up and kissed his cheek like he had kissed hers earlier. “I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you for walking me home. Goodnight, Rowan.”

“Goodnight, Aelin, I'll see you tomorrow, how does nine sound?”

“That sounds good.” And as an early riser—even on her days off—it would give her plenty of time to get ready.

“Okay, I'll see you then.” He kissed the top of her hand, reminding her of her favourite romance stories and waited until she was inside and locked the door behind her to leave.

A whoosh of air left Aelin and she found herself humming to her favourite classical pieces. She did end up cleaning her apartment, finding that she had too much energy to have a shower and go to bed, and as she cleaned, she called Aedion, telling her cousin of her budding relationship with Rowan. Her cousin was ecstatic for her, even as he promised to kick his arse if Rowan hurt her—although Aelin told her meddlesome cousin that she could very much do that herself, as she took self-defense classes at her gym and had the toned and muscled body to prove it.

Afterwards, as she lay in bed, she and Rowan texted each other until Aelin's eyes started drooping, her last message only half-written, but she fell asleep with a smile on her face, ready for tomorrow.

#rowaelin #my work #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction

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k1t-ska · 10 months

Text

Change (Iwaizumi Hajime x f! reader)

a/n: imma be completely honest with yall but i have not watched haikyuu in over 3 years😭 ive been getting haikyuu + other anime tiktoks on my fyp and that got me into reading a crap ton of random anime fics and decided to write one👅 so here we go i literally came up with this just rn at the top of my head as i was falling asleep and decided to not go to sleep bc of it😾(i dont remember a lot abt haikyuu but i remember obsessing over iwaizumi, atsumu, sakusa, akaashi, tanaka, etc.)

summary: It’s been weeks since Iwaizumi has started acting a little strange, and no matter what you did you couldn’t figure out why. It took a little while but Oikawa had finally told you what he knew on the topic Iwaizumis personality change. Little did you know he was the cause of it.

word count: >1,600

~~~~~

Iwaizumi’s been acting weird recently.

He’s been quiet, which isn’t that different because he’s always been a bit introverted, but he’s been quieter than usual. He doesn’t put in any effort into any conversations, at least any conversations that you’re a part of. But he’s like totally fine with anyone, anyone, else.

Did you do something wrong, or anything to upset him? You haven’t known each other for too long but you’d like to think that the two of you got along perfectly alright. Atleast good enough for you to form a small, teeny, tiny, minuscule crush on the guy. Which is one of the reasons this personality shift is kinda bumming you out.

He could be trying to distance himself because he finds you annoying? Maybe a tad bit weird? Or Maybe he somehow found out about your small… infatuation…? But you don't know how he could’ve. Maybe Oikawa ratted you out after you accidentally told him during first year that you found the ace the only attractive guy on the team and he got butthurt because of it so he decided to be an ass and tell Iwaizumi what you said.

But Oikawa wouldn’t just out you like that, would he? Oikawa had been your friend way longer than any of the other guys on the team. And you knew he was a big mouth but you didn’t think he would just out you like that two or so years later

But alas it’s too early to point fingers and you’re sure you’re late to practice for the third time this week. Crap!

You rush to get to the gym and hear an annoying voice the second you step inside.

“Well, well, well y/n-chan. That's the what?,” he pauses to think, “Third time you’ve been tardy this week! We’ve only had three practices!”

You roll your eyes at your irritating friend. “Shut up oink-awa,” the nickname makes him visibly wince, (he made the mistake of letting you know that pigs were his favorite animal when you guys were in 4th grade and the nickname just stuck (his love for the animal did not)) “I don’t need to hear it from you.”

He makes his way over to help you with your many bags. Juggling being the vice president of your schools student council, the boys volleyball manager, in photography and med club, as well as trying to stay on top of your schoolwork, was something that you cursed first year you about very often.

“Yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, “All joking aside, you got to take a break sometime.” Ha! Says you.

“Yeah yeah.” The two of you walk over to the bench and place all your bags down. You get up and take a look around the gym and see all the other guys practicing. You make eye contact with Iwaizumi for barely a second before he whips his head around as fast as he could.

You sigh and Oikawa notices. “What's on your mind y/n?”

You look at him, confused, “Nothing big,” He’s still just standing next to you, “but why aren’t you out there practicing?”

He starts, “Oh trust me I wish I was out there, buuuuuut someone,” He turns to you eyes bulging out of place staring you down, fake coughing as loud as he could, “made an anonymous report to couch that I had been ‘overworking’ myself recently so I’m benched for today's practice.”

You look away shyly, very quietly saying, “Oh yeah I wonder who that could’ve been.”

He gives you a short deadpan look before quickly changing, “SO! Now I’m stuck,” he pulls you into a side hug, “hanging out with my AMAZING manager bestie and helping her with her manager duties!”

Turning to look at him, you make short eye contact with Iwaizumi. This man is going to drive you insane. “Oh how, um… fun!”

~~~

The two of you spent the entirety of practice gossiping, doing regular bestie activities, with a side of managing. But sometime along the way, the one and only Hajime Iwaizumi was brought up. Well actually you brought him up.

~~~

It had gotten a little too quiet for your liking while the two of you were filling up water bottles for all the guys, so you broke the scilence with a question that had been on your mind for a while. "Oink-awa, Have you noticed how... different Iwaizumi had been around me?"

He froze. You raise your brow at his action. "Um yeah I guess, why are you asking, why would I know anything about how he feels or acts or thinks of you y/n-chan?!?! What a silly question!" He laughs.

"Oinks, what did you do? And don't deny because I know for a fact you played some sort of a role in all of this!"

He sighs “So a few weeks ago while Iwa-chan and I were hanging out…” A few weeks ago? As in the few weeks ago when Iwaizumi started acting weird, few weeks ago?

You cut him off, “That's when he started to act so weird ugh Oikawa you suck!.”

He stares at you for a couple seconds, “As I was saying… The two of us were hanging out, and he randomly brings you up, which I thought was really strange because he’s never been the one to bring you up in our convos, I’m the one who has to do it. And anyways-”

“What do you mean you’re the one who has to do it?” you question him, pausing filling up a water bottle to give him your full attention.

“Well I know you like him so I bring you up in almost every conversation we have so he can think about you more on his own, I’m sure it's a kind of manifestation if you really think about it-”

“WHAT THE FUCK OIKAWA??? WHERE did you get that kinda information? SAYS WHO? Who told you I liked him because I know for a fact I didn’t tell you crap but accidentally call him hot around you what TWO/THREE YEARS AGO?? WHy would you do that? You BETTER not have sold me out and told him I liked him” You think you’re about to explode.

Oikawa looks absolutely scared for his life before he continues, “Calm your tits y/n god. Now if you would please let me finish my story.” He grabs the water battle from your hand and starts to fill it up himself.

You step back and lean on the gym wall, “You’re right, my bad, I’m sorry Oink.”

He keeps his line of vision on the water bottle, focused, “Well, for context, before he had brought you up, we had been talking about girls, mainly it was me talking about that, and I had been talking about wanting to find a gf yadda, yadda, yadda. Then there was a moment of silence for a bit.” He pauses, looks at you to make sure you were listening, “And he asks, ‘What about y/n?’ And the first thing that comes to my mind, because i’m kinda dumb, is ‘why the fuck is he suggesting I date my other bestie’ and not ‘oh my god, my plan is working because he’s bringing you up.’”

He finished filling up the water bottles and the two of you walk over to the benches to place them there.

You butt in, “Well yeah because all you ever think about is yourself oink.”

“Shush!.” He stares at you, “Continuing, so after he says that I say, ‘Yeah definitely not y/n. The two of us are basically twins who got separated at birth.’ And I see Iwa roll his eyes and say the most shocking sentence ever said in the history of shocking sentences. ‘I meant for me.’” He gasps and you get ready to scream before feeling his hand cover your mouth.

You’re too shocked to say anything so you just mouth the words ‘what the fuck.’

“I know, I know.” Oikawa starts. This is definitely not how you expected to find out about your shared feelings.

The two of you walk across the gym to head to the supply closet and grab some mops since practice was nearing it’s end, lowering your voices whenever passing by Iwaizumi.

Oikawa continues in his story, “So you probably would’ve guessed that I was absolutely shocked and just stood there in utter disbelief. And trust me, not because it was you, but because Iwaizumi rarely talked about girls before, especially not about a girl he liked. I was so shocked I had no idea what to say, all I could come up with was, ‘I dunno, I guess’ and he didn’t bring it up again after that.”

You stare at Oikawa with something he liked to call ‘crazy eyes.’ “So in your long ass story, you made me lose my ONE CHANCE AT GETTING MISTER HUNKY ACE????” you whisper yelled at him.

“Yeah, basically.” He shrugs.

You were ready to go off on him before you heard the coach call out to you guys to leave and lock up.

“You got lucky.” You push your mop into Oikawa and walk away to grab your stuff from the benches, looking up to see Iwaizumi holding half of your bags with a concerned look on his face.

“You two ready to head out?” He looks at Oikawa who was jogging over from the supply closet, trying not to make eye contact with you for too long, or even better if you made no eye contact whatsoever.

“Yup.” you say angrily, still mad at Oikawa.

‘It’s funny’ you think, ‘So much has changed about our friendship since their conversation but the one thing that hasn’t is that he still holds my bags for me on the way home.’ you smile to yourself.

Iwaizumi sees your smile. But is only angry at himself as he feels his cheeks get red.

~~~~~

a/n: there will be more of Iwaizumi in the next part I promise(maybe(i'll try)).

(also not proof read bc i'm tryna go to sleep so sorry for typos!)

#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #oikawa tooru #haikyuu

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blueluneacy · 6 months

Text

its time for my yearly post, real

ive been thinkin about dottore genshin impact lately. hes so silly :) did more of a horror aspect bc i like horror??? idk if youve been around long enough youll notice my slow descent into more horror based writings. but its ok, i like it!

on one hand you might be able to consider this yandere. on the other i think this is just how il dottore is in my mind. just a little creep. i wonder if hes single

tw: manipulation, blackmail, implied human experimentation

You were nothing to him.

In some way or another, you knew that. You knew that you were lowly in comparison to him. You were a student, barely half way into a thesis while he was well… It’s hard to define what he was. An outcast, but a genius. Something out of your grasp, intangible and arcane. Maybe that’s what originally got you interested. You’re a student after all, driven by curiosity and a need for knowledge. Perhaps he liked that about you too.

It was also that which was forbidden that intrigued you. That which you had seen scholars go mad for, he held in the palm of his hand. Things that you knew that were forbidden were always so delicious, weren’t they? You indulged in them, in what he could give you. It’s not as thought you didn’t give what you could in return, but really, what could you give a man whose power rivaled the gods? You should’ve known better. Your tutors, your peers, everyone could’ve warned you, did warn you, but you chose not to listen.

After all, he did tell you that this version of himself was the most selfish.

Perhaps then it wasn’t strange that you never saw what happened next coming. When he told you that it was time to leave Sumeru, you were shocked, almost baffled at the proposal.

“I can’t just leave everything. I’m still working on my thesis, my friends are here, I still have things to do here.” You told him, as if your words would do you any good. He merely smiled at you, shaking his head as if your points were silly, meaningless.

“I think you’ll find your research coming to a halt very soon regardless of if you leave or not. It seems that some restructuring will begin to take place here very shortly. It would be best if you were to leave, while you still had your dignity intact.” He always made himself sound so… Reasonable. It was something you once admired about him, but now, it was grating on your nerves. How easily he tossed aside your concerns. Had he always done that, trivialized the words you were saying like this?

“I can’t just give it all up. I’d hate myself if I did that. You should already know, that’s not the type of person I am. This is my life’s work.” You told him, immediately turning your back to him. He only gave you a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“Oh please. It was an average thesis that’s frankly, derivative and uninteresting. Not to mention your advisor is about to lose his job. You don’t really think it’s worth it just to work 10 more years on something new once the dust settles, do you?” He made broad steps to close the distance between the two of you, leaning over your shoulder. You had always known that the man was much larger than you, but it was the first time you noticed that it made you nervous. Perhaps that was the first time you acknowledged him for what he really was. Not as a friend or a lover, but as the Doctor, a powerful, dangerous man.

“Even so, I’m a student here at the Akademiya. I can’t pick up and leave just because you told me to. The answer is no.” You had to firm with him. If you weren’t, if you just went with him, you had a feeling that you would end up as nothing but a puppet, a pretty doll to look at for the rest of your life. What a shame that you hadn’t realized such a fact before it was too late.

“Is that so?” He seemed more amused than he was angry. You winced as he leaned against you from behind, draping his arms over your shoulder in a way that he perhaps meant to be affectionate but felt more imprisoning with his inhuman strength. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. You shuddered as you felt his breath against you , a pit of fear forming in your stomach that threatened to come out as a scream.

“And what are your plans as to what happens next? I’m sure that everyone would love to know how interested you’ve been with the things I’ve taught you these past few months. How interested you’ve been in that which you knew to be forbidden.” You froze at his words. Was… That his plan all along? To lure you in, and then blackmail you into never leaving? “Do you really think you could just get away with a slap on the wrist for this? Something as horrid as this, well, I doubt there would be must hesitation to sign your expulsion papers.”

“You… Why? Why are you doing this? Why me?” You could’ve help but let your questions tumble out of your mouth. You felt betrayed, but why? Shouldn’t you have always known the nature of this man? How he takes and takes, giving nothing in return. How absolutely foolish.

“Ah, look at that expression! How fascinating. I wonder, what else could I do to induce these emotions in you? Such lovely features being distorted with such despair…” He cooed, running his hand over your cheek to wipe away a tear. When did you start crying? You reached up to feel your own tears, attempting to brush the Doctor’s hand away at the same time.

“We’ll have plenty of time to look at more of your reactions once we reach home. I look forward to our continued work together once we reach Snezhnaya.” As his words reached your ears, you finally broke out of your fog, pulling away from the Doctor. You backed up a bit, but he so easily seemed to just step forward once more, not giving you any space.

“I don’t care. Even if I become an outcast, I’ll bare with it. I… I can *redeem* myself, I won’t just let you take me away to some lab in a bunker somewhere to do who knows what to me!” You shuddered as thoughts raced through your mind of what might happen. Of how he might cut you open, the fluids he could pour into your body, the *agony* he could cause for you only to stitch you back together. You knew of the consequences though. Why are you so surprised when the chickens come home to roost?

For his part, the Doctor only laughed, leaning down and grabbing you by the chin. His grip was hard, and in the back of your mind you wondered if bruises would form later. He forced you to look up at him, examining your expression with a sort of cold clinical air that you should’ve been used to with him by now.

“Oh, my dear… You act as though you ever really had a choice.”

Despite your best attempts, the dam finally broke, and you let out a scream as the horror of the man in front of you finally set in. You thrashed, squirmed, cried, begged, pleaded, did anything you could think of to try and escape this, this agonizing situation that you only had yourself to blame for.

And for his part, all the Doctor did was laugh.

#mine #writing #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #my writing #yandere x reader

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raisinushigher · 11 months

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hi im just gonna put my thoughts on every clone high ship i can think of here

jfgogh - i think its cute. i can definitely see jfk like uplifting gogh and him falling in love over like the most basic display of kindness and jfk just being like “haha woah there guy i didnt mean it like that” but then he realises he Does

gogh x gandhi - LOTS of mixed feelings on this one but it is pretty interesting truth be told. like, the way gogh didnt just sit back and take what gandhi did to him and instead retaliated, i like that, i like the thought of two tiny guys having the most unnecessarily intense rivalry ever, but i know that isn’t really the way the ship is portrayed often rather than wholesome stuff . you interpret ships however you want though

gfk i think is the name for it - im so sorry as a gandhabe connoisseur i know how annoying it is when people say this about a ship that absolutely entraps you but i think jfk and gandhi are more accurate together as just silly friends who see eachother like once a month. jfk casually brings up a girl hes dating (or rather just having sex with frequently) and gandhi is like wait what happened to the other one? like hes very out of the loop but he listens and they both hype eachother up a lot

ceasgogh, gogh x christo, ceaser x christo, whether it’s any of those seperately or polyamory - i love this one so very much for literally no reason. maybe its like a nostalgia thing cuz i remember people talking about them sometimes in 2020 and being like Aw that’s cute but idk something about them feels so like. objectively correct. like yep that’s the little background trio standing together in an episode as they should be

abefk i think - i like it!! even though it’s barely known apart from jokingly i really like the classic 2000s rivalry between a nice boy and an asshole jock thing that was going on between them before ponce’s death, i admit i miss their interactions. i miss how theyd refer to eachother with their last names. also the part in season 2 episode 6 where they both were recalling memories of the grassy knoll and abe went “i used to get food thrown at me” and jfk continued “i used to be the one throwing that food”. i like them

joanabe - i know this one is like barely a ship but i still need to talk about them badly. their friendship is so important to me. the way its always been them whether it’s joan crushing on abe or the other way around, they’re just so special to eachother in any and every way, and both struggle with the choice of helping the other or doing things that hurt the other but ultimately raise their chances of getting together. tbh im so interested in whats gonna happen with them in the finale, and in the next seasons bc i doubt their back and forth crush thing is gonna last the ENTIRE show like itll be getting a new sort of premise or main character focus which im excited for

joanfk - some of the fanart is absolutely adorable COUGH COUGH ORT SMORT COUG but its just not for me man. biggest two factors as to why i dislike it being how it overtook the fandom, and how to me they just never had any substance. they have a fun dynamic and the season 1 finale was sweet but idk it just never affected me that much. also bc i always knew it was gonna crash and burn. like that is not a stable couple as cute as it is sometimes. like at all. and im happy episode 7 finally addressed it

abe x cleo - again, not really a fondly talked about ship, but they are pretty dear to me. it’s the way cleo was clearly playing with abe at the start but actually saw the charm in him and was actually upset when he finally digested his feelings for joan… i really hope they’re gonna be good friends in the future bc episode 7 seemed to be sort of a start for that friendship and them learning to be ok around eachother after the finale…

joan x cleo - ive always been scared to talk about this one bc some people see them as sisters, which i Really dont. they never acted in a sisterly way at all, and the living together thing lasted for like what. one episode. so i doubt it had any affect on how they view their relationship. but again absolutely fair if it makes you uncomfortable for this reason! but yeah i do like them. very very good trope and there can be some really cute stuff done with them dynamic wise

gandhabe my heart and soul my romeo and juliet my sun and moon my red and blue - AUGHGGGGG MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE. EVER. IN THE WHOLE SHOW FOR EVER they just have such sweet interactions and everything they do they do with the other in mind and i want them to have an emotional reunion in the season 3 finale sO SHRGFRHRVRRRRR RR RBR R R R. RR R. sorry this is mostly incoherent screaming rather than actual words I just DUCIGJGN LVOE GANDHABEEEEE EEYEHEEE THEYRE END GAME!! THEY ARE END GAME WHETHER ITS AS FRIENDS OR ROMANTICALLY RHEY ARE THE ONES

ok now onto the ones involving the new gen clones

harriucius - i like them its the second het ship in the show ive ever actually liked!! they just both go so well in so many ways, they both have almost the exact same struggles and cope in similar ways, but harriet has more of a hands on attitude with her problems, while confucius tends to avoid things. im VERY interested in how their relationship will go and i dont really think anything’s gonna happen to them bc i cant picture the show pairing either of them up with anyone else (mostly confucius tbh 😭)

joanharriet - i WISH this one was more acknowledged by the fandom like i think its the least popular one at least involving the newbies.. can you tell im a sucker for ships that are literally just two close friends who love eachother more than anything. lol. when i think of them i think of episode 5 which makes me extremely happy. like look me in the eyes and tell me that was not an absolutely beautiful wonderfully wrapped episode

johnfucius - gonna be honest i dont like this one. i know this is a really rich thing to say while talking about clone high season 2 but it just felt rushed, and especially with how they barely did anything after sleepover. like they were literally crying both of them being like OMG I FINALLY HAVE A FRIEND!! and then they proceed to have the most stale interactions with the most notable one being in the next episode and it’s literally just confucius encouraging jfk to avoid his problems like he does. not really good. but again if you enjoy them all the power to you, im happy you found something you like that hasn’t been ruined and seems pretty docile and chill compared to all the other ones :o) it’s very much a mostly fandom based ship

kahlopatra - BEAUTIFUL. BEAUTIFUL. I HAVE NO WORDS JUST BEAUTIFUL. there definitely was a lack of suspense like based off the intro and the slight buildup throughout the series BUT that literally doesn’t matter. out of every canon couple they are the absolute cutest im obsessed with the effect they have on eachother. especially on cleos side of things like ahhh!!!! she found someone she actually connects to genuinely!!!! i am so happy for her!!!!!!

tophucius - not much about this one its just pretty fun and silly . i feel bad for the people who thought something big was gonna be going on w them but the small details peppered in about them in sleepover were nice. i always liked how when confucius saw that topher typed your instead of you’re, he went “i thought so” like to me that confirms they do this all the time and they know it’s them. also really funny to imagine them being sworn enemies online but when they actually see eachother in school theyre Like oh shit hey man what’s up! hope youre well! like not even through gritted teeth or anything they’re just so chill irl for no reason

abetoph - Sigh i sure did save this one for last. while im a lot less comfortable with it now i still love thinking of them pre episode 8 and i do think their relationship is just ever so slightly more interesting now with the added double crossing n shit added to it. but im also sad they’ll never be the way they were may 24th to june 14th again . that specific time period of them is so comforting to me for no reason, all the memes and running jokes in the fandom involving them, all the wholesome fan work of them sleeping in tophers bed, watching stuff on tophers computer together, abe being tophers voice of the reason and the one person he actually likes, it’s just so … man. We Could Have Had It All. i love them for ever.

thank you so much for listening

#i also want to write an essay on why abe is autistic #clone high #clone high van gogh #clone high jfk #clone high gandhi #clone high julius caesar #clone high christo #abe lincoln #clone high joan #clone high cleo #clone high harriet #clone high confucius #clone high frida #topher bus #gandhabe #abetoph #clone high spoilers #mine

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heymacy · 8 days

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thank you so much for your answer! i actually didn’t expect such a in depth response— it actually made me kind of excited to rewatch the show so that i can give those seasons a try! i watched shameless as it was airing around s3 so it was really hard for me to cope with the idea of watching ian ‘moving on’ and bashing mickey without knowing he would be back etc. but i guess it should be time to face that considering who he gets married to! tho, if it’s okay, i wanted to ask more cause i love to see your take on it! for what ive gathered caleb cheated on ian with a girl saying it ‘didn’t count’, but was he also the one who told ian to try to be with a girl? cause i remember seeing something about it and it really pissed me off that ian even went and ‘tried’, considering s1 was him being very vocal about non being into girls! as for trevor, i did know about the monica ‘get over it’ clip because i always see people comparing it to how mickey has always been supportive no matter what (of course!!!) and also how trevor kind of forced himself on ian. i wanted to know what’s your opinion on those relationships of his, especially trevor cause it seems like it’s been the most controversial one as he spent two seasons around him. it’s funny in a way because the writers didn’t want mickey back but they still made every love interests ian had to be ‘wrong’ and showing everything that mickey would never do! also, this is out of pettiness mostly but considering all those seasons are about his bipolar disorder, does ian ever say that to his partners as a way to break up? or can i have a little of happiness thinking he just really wanted to protect who matters the most *cough* mickey *cough*. again, thank you for taking your time answering my question, i loved reading it!

hello again! more under the cut bc i'm quite chatty :)

first of all, yes, the "it doesn't count" + trying to have sex with a girl thing is true, and it honestly never felt very in-character for me. it was definitely A Choice on behalf of the writers. in fact, he gargles with mouthwash afterwards (or maybe it's vodka, i can't remember) and says "i think i have PTSD", which (of course) is meant to be humorous, but i do think it was a very jarring and confusing experience for him.

ohhhhhhh boy. the trevor of it all. well, let's begin by saying that there's a lot of controversy surrounding trevor. there are some really rancid anti-trevor takes that i don't agree with, primarily the ones rooted in transphobia, which i think is disgusting and abhorrent. i think people are generally either very anti-trevor or pretty neutral on him. i don't think anyone out there is singing his praises, or at least i've never heard a take like that in the time i've been in the fandom. as for me & my opinion, i think he is an incredibly frustrating, pretentious, self-serving character and he irritates me deeply. i think that while he could have been a good friend to ian, he fucked things up by trying to be his boyfriend. they were incompatible from the start and i honestly don't know why they started anything in the first place. like i know why, i just don't understand it. they had no spark. they had no connection. their only commonalities were that they were 1) both gay and 2) into advocating for homeless + at-risk youth. and that's like, it. they had friendly coworker energy, not electric, bone-shattering chemistry. my rating? 0/10 stars. i was very happy when he was written off and ian was left to sort his shit out on his own, unencumbered by a dissatisfying, toxic relationship.

and caleb.......ugh. fucking caleb! i'm surprised he doesn't get vertigo from riding such a high horse. he treated ian like an accessory and consistently put him in uncomfortable situations for no reason other than his own pleasure and/or to manipulate other people. the ONLY good thing he did was lead ian down the EMT path, and that is it. otherwise he was quite literally the worst. imagine cheating on someone and then being like "actually, this is a you issue." alexa, define "cold-blooded" 🙄

to answer your question, ian never credits his bipolar disorder when ending things with any other partner, no. trevor ended because ian ran off with mickey and lied to him about it/cheated on him (though they did spend another season in each other's lives in a really strange capacity, which was an interesting choice by the writers) and caleb ended because he cheated on ian. caleb was a clean break whereas trevor was super messy and drawn-out. but no, he doesn't talk about wanting to protect them from his disorder during their breakups. he tells them both about it early on, is transparent about it, and expresses his concerns about it being a lot to handle, but it isn't credited as the reason for the breakups, no.

i think when it comes to ian protecting mickey from his disorder, it's important for us to view things through an ian-centric lens. why did he do what he did? was it solely to protect mickey, or was it coming from a place of insecurity? a place where he felt like a burden? a place where he felt hopeless and aimless and scared? post-episode and post-diagnosis, it's very common to fall into what i like to call The Pit, which is essentially a shallow bed of self-loathing and the desire to self-isolate away from everyone and everything. we see a lot of that in the end of s5 and the beginning of s6. he's made himself very small, is afraid to do nearly anything for fear of further destruction, and feels incredibly trapped and frightened by his circumstances. all of these factors contribute to his behaviors and choices, including (but not limited to) breaking up with mickey. did he end things because he didn't want mickey to spend his life coping with the realities of loving someone with this disorder? yes. but he did what he did because he was scared. and i think it's really important we make that distinction when talking about and analyzing that storyline.

as always, if there's anything you want to talk about or if you have any other questions you are always welcome in my inbox! i hope you're having a lovely day 💛

#sorry it took me so long to answer this i have just not been feeling very Articulate lately!#it took me a minute to compose my Thoughts on some very controversial topics lmao #but i am satisfied with the result #thanks for coming back and chatting with me!#macy babbles #anons

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harventheblorbo · 1 year

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Hi,I really like your work.So can I get a fanfic about optimus prime with a human reader,where the reader is struggling with the fact that optimus chose jack over them to guard the key to vector sigma.(optimus is the guardian of the reader and the reader blames mostly themselves for being too weak and regretting every past traumatic experience they shared with optimus.They dont blame jack or optimus.)The reader tries to hide it bcs they dont want to embarrass themselves(as they see it) any further in front of optimus,but the thoughts that everyone dislikes them creep up again and so they become distant and try to make themselves very quiet/serious(they think of everyone as an enemy who finds them annoying again).

Also optimus reaction to that,what would he do?But in general angst with comfort(maybe an explanation as to why optimus didnt chose them).

Sorry if its too long or something doesnt fit the rules of the blog(couldnt find them😂)

One shot of TFP Optimus with a reader that can't understand why Optimus choose jack to guard the key of vector Sigma and not them!

Containing; Optimus Prime

___ is gender neutral and human

Warning; Angst, and swearing.

One shot Summary; ___ can't wrap their head around that Optimus picked Jack to protect the key to vecter sigma but some special bot notices.

When Optimus gave Jack the Key, my heart shattered. Why? Why was I so upset that Optimus gave Jack the key? Was it because maybe I thought that Optimus thought as me as too weak? I couldn't blame him if he did.

I didn't wanna ask Optimus because I was just too embarrassed. What if he got too nervous to tell me and told a lie? I mean I don't think he would but still it kinda hurts. I mean there has to be a reasonable explanation. I put my pencil down and closed my notebook. My therapist had been recommending that I should do journaling so I can have my head clear.

I mean it worked a little bit. But to be honest I think it just made me seem more awkward. The Video game buzzed and I heard Jack and Raf exclaim how the other cheated. It was a 2006 game that Ratchet bought so I doubt that Raf would know how to hack it anyway. Miko tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hey ___, do you by chance have the answer for number 3 on our homework?" Miko asked as she sat down next to me with her homework. "Yeah, it's 8" I replied. To be honest, I haven't been feeling the best recently and felt tired.

"Thank you!" She yipped and ran off after writing the answer down. I did anything to help them as I thought I was responsible to do it since Jack had to do it all the time. But to be honest, I think my whole life is going to shit

But I don't wanna really bring it up to someone. What if I burden them? And who would be the right person to talk to it about it? Ratchet is always so grumpy and would brush me off. Arcee would just ask me to go away or something like that. Bulk head is too nice and I think I would overwhelm him. Ultra Magnus wouldn't be the best to go to for anything. So for now, I just keep quiet. Like I always have.

As the days pass, I realize how distant they have been with me. But then again Ive been distant with them and I think it's for the better. No one has really been talking to me. And whenever they do, its awkward and uncomfortable and small.

I don't really care anymore. I don't care about anything anymore. I can't tell if I'm pissed off or just pissed at my self for being a fuckin fool. I guess I was too late to realize when Optimus was more or less observing me throughout the week until I saw him walk up to the risen area for the humans.

"___? Is it alright if I have a word with you?" I heard Optimus's voice and looked up at him. His optics whirred a little bit and saw how focused he was. "Sure... What's up?" I replied. There was no one around so It was a perfect timing. "I'm sure I can speak on behalf of everyone and say that we are worried for you ___" There was brief science. I nodded to let him continue talking. "You've been distant to everyone. Even the children and it's worrying us. Tell me what's wrong. Please" Optimus leaned a little bit forward as I walked up to where he was.

"Well to be honest, I've been upset about the fact that you chose to give Jack the key..." I explained with a upset tone. Im honestly embarrassed to even be saying these words. I can feel my hands sweat as I fidget with my fingers.

Optimus blinked and pondered on what he was going to say. "I see now." He remarked. "Your wondering why I gave Jack the key and not you, I'm I correct?" Optimus asked. I couldn't do anything but nod my head. "___, the only reason I chose Jack to protect it was because Arcee asked me to." He explained. "Oh..." I quietly stated.

I kinda chuckled. "Well thanks for clearing it up" I thanked him as I looked at him fully while I scratched the back of my head a little. He simply nodded with a slight smile.

#tfp #tfp x reader #tfp fanfic #transformers #tfp optimus prime x reader #tfp optimus prime #tfp optimus #optimus prime

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sicjimin · 9 months

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AU where yoongi is a famous rapper and jimin has a normal job and yoonmin are exes who meet after almost a year of breaking up when jimin is pregnant but hasn't told yoongi because they broke up because of yoongis career.

But then yoongi supports him through an episode of morning sickness and jimin realises that he NEEDS him and yoongi genuinely wants to support him too so they get back together?

Is this too elaborate of a request 😭 I'm so sorry

a.n : another very .. old .. request have been fulfilled 🥲 im sorryy again it takes so long, i hope you're still around anon .. AND This is a very long one (25k words). I even considering to make this into 2 parts as i got carried away and yeah .. the story dragged on. in part 2 will be Yoongi takes care of Jimin during his morning sickness, more like a drabble i guess. i dont know if this story makes sense bc im afraid the longer story goes the more like rambling i got going on there .. (and i havent write the part 2 yet, so im open with any suggestion about what kind of morning sickness episode that jimin is going thru, and where (maybe) bc i feel like ive been using lots of scene ab morning sickness, a fresh idea would be very welcomed 🫶)

⚠️ a long read ahead ⚠️

tw : mpreg, emeto. (lots of it), most of it with detailed description of vomiting

Jimin should have known—should have realized and learned from his past 3 years long relationship with Yoongi, that the older is smart, meticulous, and attentive ; especially towards him. He should have known that even after a year going with minimal contact, his Yoongi won't change too much. He would still be Yoongi that always keeps his gaze towards Jimin—carefully trailing every single of his body movement, with hands ready to catch him if he almost fall after laughing too much, or if he trips over his legs, or if Jimin's glass of wine already empty but he's already curled in cozy on the couch, or if they sit close enough and Jimin starts to feel sleepy ; it would be ready to trace the younger locks, gently massaging his scalp because he knows it would help Jimin fall asleep, or over his arms ; rubbing an absent-minded pattern that would instantly melt the knots in Jimin's muscles after a long day.

Jimin should have known that. And should've been careful with his act—or Yoongi would catch up on it. On things he had been trying to hide, even make Taehyung and Jungkook swore to secrency.

But it's hard.

It's hard when his friends cologne starts to mixed with food, making a weird combination towards his already sensitive nose. And it doesn't help that today was the day that his baby want to act and make his lives harder.

So he only sighs, tired .. and not thrilled about the conversation that going to happened as he found Yoongi outside Seokjin's bathroom door—Jimin doesn't want to think how long he had been standing there and probably has listened to him, to his gross gag throwing up his little lunch.

"Are you okay?", Yoongi asks, gaze trailing over Jimin's head to toe, making Jimin squirms uncomfortable as his hand secretly curled more possesively towards his middle. Hoping the dim light of Seokjin's bedroom and his loose cardigan and shirt combo would conceal his protruded belly enough. He's still early, it shouldn't showing a lot .. right?

"How long have you been here?", Jimin rasps, as he walks passed him and sit on the edge of the bed. Throwing up always left him a little bit dizzy, and for some reason, a whiff of Yoongi's cologne—that he used to love years ago—is making his stomach churn a little.

Yoongi walks slowly, a little hesitant to approach the younger. "Enough to hear you ... throwing up?"

Jimin sighs. He can feel that his baby isn't done. "I'm fine .. just today lunch not sitting well", he mumbles. It didn't sound convincing at all, but Jimin hopes Yoongi would let it go—along with him, maybe back to their friends in the living room ; so he can bring back his senses to normal and finish his "morning" sickness peacefully. But the hopes went into vain, as Yoongi takes Jimin's silence as an acceptance to sit beside him. His cologne waft in a small breeze as he plops into the soft mattress, and what he said before heightened the growing nausea, "Tae said that you have been sick a lot .. you sure it's only food not sitting right?"

Jimin scrunched his face, eyes squeezing shut as his brain torn in between wanting to murder Taehyung or run to the bathroom as saliva starts pool in his mouth and—"Uurrk", a gag escaped his lips, as Jimin tries to keep it down but couldn't as nausea was starting to rise. "Sorry", he croaked out, muffled under his palm before he run back to the bathroom. This time barely managed to close the door, as water already rushing pass through his lips before he even settled himself properly in front of the bowl.

"Uurrkkk—", a bigger wave of nausea rushed through him, and he threw up again in the toilet. "Oh my gosh."

He could almost feel Yoongi hovering behind him, worriedly patting his back like that mother hen, while muttering some words of comfort that Jimin didn’t bother to listen—his stomach didn't let him anyway. Only 2 heaves thats productive, mostly bringing out water, but Jimin still feel nauseous—like there's something bigger needed to out. But he doesn't know what.

He just feel so queasy, and it's annoying.

Yoongi stopped rubbing his back, as Jimin peels away from the bowl, resting his head over the seat. "Is there anything I can do?", Yoongi asks, as he quietly tidy up the younger's hair that falls and sticks over his forehead. He looks so pale .. and it clenched his heart.

"No ... i still feel nauseous", Jimin mumbles tiredly, grimacing as he coughed wetly and spit up a mouthful of watery vomit. "Gosh ..", he can't help but groans.

"Water?", Yoongi tries to offer, but it feels like a wrong one as Jimin shakes his head and immediately gagged without getting anything up. "Don't mention food or drink", he scolds after the wave passes.

Yoongi nods, pulling himself away slightly—not wanting to upset the sick male even more. They sat in silence for a minute or two. Jimin coughed a few times, keeping his face aimed into the toilet. And Yoongi was only there, watching how Jimin keep aggresively rubbing his stomach, and how his heart would leap if some of cough morph into a wetter gag ; his instict to jump in motion and ready to pull his hair back and pat his back.

"You don't have to stay here .. you know", Jimin breathes out, barely can keep his eyes open too look at the latter. Every words feels like it was hard to utter, heavy and laced with sickness. Yoongi is worried—something is definitely wrong with his Jimin. "Namjoon hyung must've sear—", his words cut off as an intense wave of nausea comes, leaving him with a long, deep belch, and puke showered into the toilet. He began to cough again, gasping for breath. "Fuck ..", Jimin curses.

"Are you done?", Yoongi asked as he stand up, quickly wiping Jimin's chin clean with his sweater sleeve, avoiding the spot that Jimin spat, and took out a tissue to wipe the puke down. Jimin felt a little guilty at how Yoongi had wiped his mess, and that made him want to cry a little. "Want water?"

Jimin shakes his head, blew his nose, tossed the tissue into the befouled toilet, and flushed. "No .. i don't think i'm done yet. It will just come back up", he mumbles quietly. "You really should go back. They must have been searching for you. I will join in a minute", Jimin said, waving away the hand that tried to touch his shoulder.

Yoongi frowned at him, looking like he wanted to say something but decided against it. "I can go get an anti-emetic suppository, if you want," he said, completely ignoring Jimin's words. "Jin-hyung also must have something for stomachache"

Jimin's eyes widen. "No ..", he hisses, loudly than he expected. He coughs a little. "I already took one before coming here. It doesn't work today"

"Today?"

Jimin nods, taking a deep breath. "Can you open the window a bit? The smell is trapped here", he said, gesturing to the toilet. His throat was starting to feel like sandpaper by now. Yoongi opens the window, letting a cool breeze flow into the dorm, which seems to relax Jimin further.

"Don't think too much about it", Jimin mumbles tiredly.

Silence washes over them. And Yoongi feels awkward by it—he keeps looking over the younger, that currently counting his breathing. "You want to go to the doctor?"

Jimin scoffs, "Already went", he answers, and finally opened his eyes, locking gaze with Yoongi—and it was a fault as it's almost makes him want to breakdown and spill everything. "Stop fussing over me hyung .. i will be fine"

Yoongi sighs, rolling his eyes. "Stop pushing me away"

Jimin didn't get to retort back as nausea coming back. "Fuck ..", he breathes in, hoping that it would quell the wave so he didn't have to throw up. But he still propped himself back over the toilet, shoving Yoongi a little, that was sitting near to it. "I'm going to throw up again", he mumbles, feeling a lump forming at his throat. He closed his eyes again and hung onto the toilet seat as his body shook with a violent heave. Thick torrents of vomit showered into the water. Jimin paused, belched loudly, and threw up some more. "Hyung ..", he chocked out mid heave. "My stomach hurts"

The response was immediate, as Yoongi's arms suddenly wrapped around his shoulder, and Jimin's fingers that been gripping the seat pelled away, changing with Yoongi's hands. "Breathe .. it will be over soon, and you will feel better", he murmurs softly, stroking the younger's hair. Jimin barely can register everything as he's fighting with the ringing and pounding all over his head, along with the turmoil in his stomach, as he rocked with shuddering retches—chunks of vomit fell from his mouth and splashed noisily into the toilet again and again.

It takes him few minutes and tons of Yoongi's reminder to breathe and comforting words, before the heaving tapered off, leaving him exhausted but feeling slightly better. This round was more intense than the first, but over more quickly. Yoongi quickly guided him to rest against the bathtub and brought the younger a cup of water to rinse his mouth and flushed as he spit it back out. "Thank you ..", Jimin hums , closing his eyes for a moment before slowly opening them again, feeling dizzy still, but at least not nauseous anymore.

"Let me drives you home", Yoongi says, trailed behind him as Jimin stood up on shaky legs. A sudden tug at his arm made Jimin flinch before glaring at the older, who was already holding onto him tightly. "Please?"

Jimin could only sighs, all of his energy already flushed down the toilet, all he wanted to do is curled in his bed after drowning his morning sickness pills. He couldn't even dare to imagine how it would be sitting in his ex car and being sick on top of that. What if he throws up again in the car? No .. he can't let Yoongi saw him like that ever again. "No, dont ..", he answers, and immediately feel guilty when he sees Yoongi visibly deflates. "Just .. call Tae here, please hyung? I will go home with him"

Yoongi frowns, obviously confused but nodded anyways. Jimin could tell that the elder was reluctant, but he knows Yoongi won't push him. "Okay .. rest and wait here", he says, and Jimin nodded silently before plopping to the bed, closing his eyes as exhaustion creeping up to him, while he listens to Yoongi's footsteps and the closed door.

***

"You and Yoongi hyung WHAT?", Jungkook shrieked, his sandwich that already halfway going to his mouth halts in the air. Jimin rolls his eyes, before giving the youngest pinch in his arms, causing him to yelps. "Hyung!"

"That's you and your boyfriend fault", Jimin sulks, taking a sip of his pregnancy milk in his tumblr and biting a little of cookies. That's all he managed to eat today. His morning sickness hasn't eased up yet. "I already told you that i'm not feeling good, but you insist for me to go"

"Sorry hyung ..", Jungkook pouts, chewing down the sandwich, as he realized that their lunch time is limited. "You know hyungs always want us to be complete as seven .. Namjoon hyung about to leave too, you would be sad if you're not seeing him, right?"

Jimin sighed. Jungkook is too cute. "I know .. it's just .. you know, i'm afraid that Yoongi hyung might know", he mumbles quietly, looking down to his stomach, and rubbing it gently.

"Would it be so bad if he knows .. hyung?", Jungkook asks carefully. "He's still Yoongi hyung .. you know he won't do anything ill to you and the baby. He would feel happy", he continues.

Jimin shrugged, "Happy? Or he would cursed me out and keeping us secret as it would damage his career"

"You know hyung won't—"

"Hyung won't .. but his agency?", Jimin mutters softly. Jungkook's lips form a thin line, his eyes darken. He knew what that meant, but there was something stopping him from telling Jimin this. Something that stopped him saying 'don't' or 'you'll regret it'. He knew that Jimin wouldn't give up on Yoongi.

And vice versa. They just need to talk, but they both so stubborn.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, "Just .. tell him hyung. It doesn't have to mean or laced with anything. It's better if he knows from you, not from anyone else", he says, putting a little emphasis on the last two words. "We are all friends.

Jimin gives him an unreadable look, then nods. "I will remember that, Kook, thank you", he smiles, ruffling the younger hair before standing up back to the counter.

"You need help?", Jungkook asks, patting the sandwich crumbles off his apron as well, "No, it's fine", Jimin waves him off, and starts welcoming the customers as the bell above the door ringing.

***

Jimin thought he was fine. The calculated and small portion of food he consumes today, along with his prescription shouldve make him feel fine. But maybe because it was hot, and customers went in and out so fast this afternoon, he starts to feel bad.

Jimin huffs.

His feet hurts from standing for too long. He starts to feel dizzy and queasiness also building up. A whole package. And like how the world likes to play a joke on him—Yoongi's song blasted through the convenience store. "Can you change it", he hissed, glaring at the youngest that strolling around the counter as his tasks in the back already done.

"No .. maybe the baby would recognize his father's voice", Jungkook giggles—and Jimin about to kick him on the shin but another customer comes barelling their groceries.

"Can you take over for a little", Jimin breathes out as the customer leaves. The shop is empty now. His dizziness has started to become unbearable. He feels nauseated again and his chest heaved as if he needs to puke again.

Jungkook frowns, "Are you okay hyung?", he asks, immediately standing up and circled his arms around the older waist ; guiding him to sit on the small stool. "Dizzy .. and nauseous as usual", Jimin smiles weakly. "It's okay, i just need to sit down a bit", he mumbles, leaning against the cabinets as he starts to count his breath. Jungkook frowns, looking worried. "Should I get Taehyung?", he asks, and Jimin shakes his head. "No, don't"

Jungkook take a last look on him before another customer coming again. Jimin tuned himself out from all the noises around him. His stomach demanding too much of his attention. He keeps counting, breathing, but it feels like his baby wont compromised other solution than throwing up, as his mouth starts to feel bland and thick with saliva.

Jimin huffs, starts to fumble around searching for a bag to hold. Their bathroom is a bit far, he doesn't know if he could manage to walk there, and the nausea is almost unbearable now.

"Hyung", he hears Jungkook calling out, and Jimin turns towards the voice. "What are these for?"

"I think i'm going to puke", Jimin whispers, trying hard not to throw up on the floor. It feels as though his insides suddenly turned sour; his throat feels dry and his mouth tastes foul. He swallows roughly, and looks into Jungkooks wide, innocent brown eyes. "Want me to accompany you there?"

Jimin shakes his head, his fingers starts to hover around his lips as his throat growing tighter with every words he utter to answers Jungkook. "No .. hyung will be fine. Someone need to be here, shop still packed", he replies, his voice cracking. Jimin tries to swallow again. The urge to vomit becomes strong. "I will be back", he hurriedly says before quickly making a dash towards the bathroom, clutching tightly at the plastic bag he found earlier.

Just like what he predicted, his stomach fails to hold on as he only few steps away from the bathroom hallway. He was at the end of an aisle for something—he barely can acknowledged tons of products around him—when his stomach jumps, causing him to gag ; wet and immediately productive as his cheeks filled with milk he drank earlier. He panickly look around, before shoving the bag over his mouth when it's empty of people around him. He bends his body down to hide himself under the aisles as he gurgling out gush of milk mixed with vomit, waiting for the wave of nausea to stop hitting him. He was really sick.

His ears ringing, as his focus tunelled down into his stomach that preparing itself for the next wave, when someone crouched beside him. "Jimin-ah?"

Jimin opens his eyes, to see Yoongi hovering over him, concern written all over his face, even though it covered with mask and head down baseball cap he loved. "Are you okay?"

Jimin gasps, shaking his head in one move as taking a deep breathe—barely can utter a proper answers when his stomach rolls, forcing more of its content down his throat until he feels his legs wobbling. He tried to stand up—he knows that he's not finished yet, and throwing up in the aisle is gross— but his legs were wobbly, almost gave way, so he clutched to the man beside him. "Bathroom", he mumbles, biting down his lips from spilling his stomach content yet again.

He loves how fast Yoongi reflexes is, as he immediately make Jimin leaned most of his weight towards him and guided them both to the bathroom. Jimin feels like a mess—Yoongi barely open the stall open when Jimin already lunged forward and leans over the toilet bowl. He rocked slightly back and forth as waves of nausea swept over him, heaving up more of his last meal. "Jimin-ah .. breathe .." Yoongi murmurs quietly as he sighed and continued to rub his back as it jerked with one violent heave after another.

"Gosh ..", Jimin moans after vomiting the last of the disgusting things he ate, letting Yoongi push him back as he holds onto the rim for support. "Thank you," he muttered as his legs start to give in, his legs trembling uncontrollably and his body feeling extremely light. Yoongi took out some tissue and wipes Jimin's cheek. "We need to go to the doctor, Jimin-ah .. you thrown up a lot. And don't try to argue me because this is the exact condition like 2 days ago, and you definitely not feeling any better"

Jimin head is fuzzy. He's exhausted. The firmness that laced thick with desperate worry in Yoongi's voice didn't help his emotion that already on rollercoaster. "No .. i just want to go home", he mumbles, letting his head droop over the older shoulder and let him taking most of his weight again.

It feels good. Being in Yoongi's arms feels good.

"But—"

"No .. take me home. I can't stand anymore longer. I will tell you at home, promise", Jimin mutters against the fabric of his shirt. As always Yoongi doesn't push further, simply wraps Jimin's arms around his neck while carrying his feet, holding him close. And although Jimin isn't comfortable yet, somehow he feels completely safe, like he belong here. In the arms of the person he trusted most.

***

Jimin almost makes Yoongi turn around and drives them to the hospital, as he ended up throwing up again in the car. Only 15 minutes of driving. "Jimin .." Yoongi sighed as he takes the soiled bag and tossed it in the garbage in front of Jimin's apartment, waiting for the younger to get out of the car with a little energy he had left.

Yoongi clenched his fist—wanting nothing more than scooped the smaller man in his arms and help him upstairs, tucked him safe in his bed. But that would be crossing the line, right?

"Sshh .. you're fussing too much hyung", Jimin chuckles weakly, and Yoongi swooned. It feels like all the anxiety and adrenaline being washef off—how could someone still looking so pretty with pale chapped lips and after throwing up a lot?

"You look like you might pass out anytime soon, Jimin .. of course i will be worried?!", Yoongi scoffs, quickly wrapped his arms aorund the latter waist. "You want me to carry you up there? I have been working out, i think i can handle it", he offers—borderline serious and joking—and Jimin huffed, "Shut up hyung"

***

The conversation is put on halt—as Jimin immediately passed out, claimed by exhaustion and sickness after Yoongi peeled him off his work clothes, making him take his medicine, eat and refresh himself a little ; and Yoongi didn't have a heart to demand anything from the younger now .. or ever. He would definitely wait until Jimins is ready to tell him what's going on—he just need a vague answer, just to put his heart to calm, and he would be content. Another detail could wait ; wait until Jimin let him in.

Yoongi stares at the muted TV. It's almost 9pm now, and Jimin still fast asleep. He contemplates to make dinner and wake the younger up, but he feels like sleep isn't what Jimin get properly these past days with how sunken his cheeks and the darkness under his eyes. So he decides to put it off, and staying the night. In case Jimin needs him—he will deal with his anger later, if Jimin really despises him that much.

He just can't staying at home but being constantly worried sick about how Jimin is doing.

Yoongi sighs, pulling himself up as he strolls around the apartment. It's still familiar. Nothing really change, not even the guest room. It's all still the same as a year ago, before Yoongi take his warmth from here.

The only thing that feels foreign for him is sleeping on the couch. It's weird, and cold. And reminded him a lot of what he's here for. Just as a concerned friend. No longer a boyfriend that takes up the right side of Jimin's bed.

Yoongi takes another deep breath, sunk in himself deeper into the couch, and play with his phone to stop himself going downward spiral until sleep comes claiming him.

***

Yoongi didnt know when he was asleep, or how long it has been asleep. Maybe it was 2 hours or longer .. everything feels fuzzy. One thing he's sure is, the sun is not up yet.

He frowns, groaning as he feels his muscles ached from curling on the couch. Brain trying to work with force as it's still laced with sleep about what makes him wakes up, now.

Then he got the answers.

Yoongi heard someone coughing in the bathroom but didn't think all that much of it at first. He stays still, his sleepy brain trying think who and why they are coughing. It didn't take long before he heard the toilet flushed, which again was weird.

He jolts from his seat when the next thing he heard was coughing that grew more intense, and he suddenly realized that it wasn't only coughing. Someone in the bathroom was also retching.

"Jimin!", he yelps, hurried over the bathroom down the hall and almost slams the door open. He hurried over and opened the bathroom door.

There he is.

Jimin is squatting in front of the toilet, one arm wrapped around his belly and one hanging onto the seat. His shoulders shook with a hoarse heave, and he heard liquid pouring into the toilet.

"Jimin-ah .. what's wrong?"

Jimin looked up to him with glassy eyes, before shaking his head weakly and turn his attention back to the bowl—gagging quietly without getting anything up.

Yoongi sits still, tucking the younger hair back and tracing his arms up and down the younger spine that covered with sweat. "How long have you been here?"

"I don't know", Jimin huffs. His breathe rippling the clear water. "I just woke up and ran here, thought would throw up but—mmm", he leaned over again, stomach curled inside as a gag echoes through the small room. This one brings a trickles of water, mixed with yellow bile that makes Jimin grimaces.

"You're empty .. there's nothing to bring up", Yoongi mumbles quietly.

"I know .. but eating something also ..", Jimin shuddered, his head bowed back, sitting more straight as he belched and drooled. "Fuck .. i feel awful", he curses, hands curling tight around his middle.

"Do you want water?", Yoongi offers, "It might help bringing something up, or you will hurt yourself"

"Mhm", Jimin breathes out, "A little"

Yoongi ruffles his hair, before standing up and fetch water from the younger nightstand. He winces when he heard another gag from the bathroom. Jimin stomach was basically empty at this hour, but that didn't stop his body from trying to empty it further. A thought of bringing him to the doctor flashed through his mind again.

"Here ..", Yoongi waits until Jimin stops swaying with nausea. The younger shakily takes the glass—only 2 gulps, and he shoved the glass back to Yoongi, as he lurched with a gurgling heave, and a flood of mush poured out of his mouth. "Hyung ..", he choked out in between, hands blindly searching for Yoongi's, before he gagged hoarsely for awhile, then ejected a shower of water again. There's nothing solid that he brought up. The flow stopped after just a few seconds, and he was left gasping and moaning once more.

"Better?"

Jimin shakes his head, curled over the cold tiles—that send Yoongi into a panic, "Jimin! What are you doing?! Let's get back to your room!"

"No ..", Jimin groans, "I still feel sick ..", he paused, a sour burp escapes his lips that makes him shivered. It feels gross. "I dont have energy to run back and forth. And bucket even makes me feel disgusting. I can't move .. dizzy and i think i will—", he quickly sits up and shallow gags echoes again, but nothing more than saliva dripped from his lips. "Puke if i move ..", he breathes out.

Yoongi swallows, his hand brushing away the sweaty curls away from the older face.

"Okay .. i will bring your blanket and pillow here. But can you tell me what's going on?", he asks carefully. "I'm really holding myself back from dragging you to the hospital, Min .."

Jimin snorts weakly. It sounds like a chuckle that is supposed to be laughingly, but instead came out as a strangled whimper. Then he took a shaky breath.

"Hyung.. i've been keeping something from you, haven't i?"

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #and again another mpreg fic #sick!jimin #caretaker!yoongi

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hella1975 · 2 years

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wait hold on a ursa takes both zuko and azula away fic??? idk how anyone hasn’t done this concept but hella you’ve tapped into a concept that has to be explored at this point! making it zukka is also just the norm around here too.

ah im glad you like the sound of it! i refuse to believe im the first to think of that idea bc i dont think ive ever had an original thought but there's definitely a lack of ursa exploration in the fandom. the thing with this wip is that it's going to be so ginormous and so multi-faceted that it's actually really hard to explain the plot of? like ursa takes zuko and azula with her but ursa is so damaged by what she's been through and is too busy prioritising survival to be loving anymore and their life on the run is so brutal that zuko and azula - still only 9 and 11 years old which is a big reason of why their relationship is able to heal, bc they're still so young - really lean on each other to cope. initially it's a survival thing, but they grow to just genuinely get on well with and care deeply about each other. and one way they do that is that zuko starts telling azula stories! like the two of them become huge avatar nerds bc of these stories and actually i might just give you a snippet bc this is rlly hard to explain LMAO

Neither of them had any idea how to just be nice to each other, but Zuko wanted to be nice. He wanted Azula to be safe. He wanted to protect her. She was his little sister. She always had been, and she needed him. Now, more than ever.

“You know, Mother used to tell me about our great-grandfather.” Zuko said quietly into the shadows, a whisper to ensure Ursa, always so quick to anger these days, didn’t wake up. “You know he was Avatar Roku?”

For a while, it was painfully silent, to the point Zuko was certain Azula wouldn't respond. Then; “Of course I know. Some of us actually paid attention in our lessons.” Azula sniped, but she sounded a little too cutting, in a way she only sounded when she was unsure. She didn’t like it when she didn’t know what Zuko was leading to.

Zuko turned to face her direction, the cheap blanket scratching his chin and not covering all of his body. At eleven-years-old, Zuko was finally starting to grow into himself.

They were in a town on the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom, barely a speck on the map, and currently, their names were Riku and Aoi. Ursa has been very clear; her children were to never use their birthnames, no matter how alone they thought they were. They were living in a cottage with half a roof, their mother funding the rent by sewing patches onto dresses for a seamstress. She was barely in the house, but Zuko knew even when they left in a few day’s time – as they never stayed in one place longer than a week or two – he would still barely see Ursa. He wondered if she knew how reclusive she’d become.

“She told me stories about all the Avatars. I always wished she’d tell you them too.” Zuko said a little sadly. “I never understood why she didn’t.”

This silence was different, and they both knew Zuko wasn’t just talking about the stories.

“Tell me.” Azula breathed, so quiet Zuko almost missed it.

“The stories?” Zuko asked in surprise. He had been waiting for Azula to cut him down, to tell him to go away like she used to. But...

He realised maybe Azula wanted to be nice too. Maybe she was tired of being looked at like a monster by the people supposed to love her.

Maybe she was just a nine-year-old girl who needed a bedtime story every now and then.

“Yes, Zuko.” Azula hissed, and his name was so shocking it was like a curse. “The stories. Tell me about the Avatars.”

So, Zuko did.

“Water, earth, fire, air.” Zuko whispered, remembering how Mother told it. In the shadows, Azula’s eyes burned gold. “Long ago, the four nations lived together, but everything changed when the Fire Nation, the superior nation, began to share its wealth. The Hundred Year War began, and the only person able to stand in the Fire Nation’s way was the Avatar, master of all four elements. But when the world called for him, he fled...”

It became a tradition, after that. Zuko would lie beside his sister on the nights neither of them could sleep, and after an entire day of hiding himself, he’d turn to Azula and just talk. In Kyoshi Island, he told her of Avatar Kyoshi murdering Chin the Great. In Makapu village, he told her of Avatar Roku – Great-Grandfather Roku – battling a volcano. And in the Western Air Temple, he told her of the Avatar who never was.

“He’s out there somewhere, though.” Zuko uttered wondrously. “One-hundred-and-twelve, the last airbender. Can you imagine it?”

“You’re in your head too much.” Azula sighed. She always pretended not to care, but as the months dragged on, she allowed herself more. First, it was in her asking for a specific story. Then sometimes, she’d slip up and laugh. In the fragments of these nights handed over to ancient legends, as scraps of lies left behind in their wake with every new roof they found themselves beneath, Azula was more herself than ever. She could be, in front of her big brother. That was something she learned.

They learned other things, too. They learned that the Earth Kingdom was starving, that the Fire Nation was hated, that people weren’t rebelling; they were suffering. The story changed. When Zuko saw technological advancements that bewildered him in the Northern Air Temple, he stopped saying that the Fire Nation was the superior nation. When he saw children with burn scars and amputated limbs, he changed ‘began to share its wealth’ to ‘attacked.’ When the stories he told his little sister of the Avatar turned into a lifeline, a speck of hope in a world of ashes, ‘fled’ became ‘vanished.’

Zuko learned that a war was a war, that his father was not a hero by any means, that they got out just in time.

And it was hard, but the two had their own rebellions. Zuko and Azula didn’t get on in Caldera, but out here with a string of fake identities behind them and a death sentence at the end of it, they only had each other. Their mother was a wound, their father was a blade, and they were, through it all, still just kids. They leaned on each other in the places they used to bruise. Azula took the softness she tortured her brother over and began to protect it. Zuko took the coldness in his sister he used to despise and chased it away. When Azula drew the curtains and hid in cupboards to hold a flame in her palm and just breathe, Zuko made sure Ursa didn’t catch her. When Zuko lay beside Azula and talked to her until she finally fell asleep, Azula didn't push him away.

Azula, he whispered, and it was a promise that she could still be who she wanted to be.

Zuko, she breathed back, and it was a recognition that, through it all, she still saw him.

#the relevance of these avatar stories is that azula has heard them since she was nine years old #like it's a real theme in the fic that azula adapts to their life on the run a LOT easier than zuko and it's because she's #just the right side of too young when they run away that she forgets a lot of what life was like in the fire nation #her personality IS this new life whereas zuko still remembers a lot of their old life and is very haunted by it all #and hates all the lies and having to deny who he really is #and one thing azula builds her personality around - bc of her age - is the avatar thanks to these stories #she seriously hero-worships the avatar which is relevant bc two years after they ran away #zuko gets caught by soldiers and brought back to ozai... when he is thirteen... same age he was in the canon agni kai....#and ozai burns him same as canon to try get info bc ozai has a VENDETTA against ursa now and is determined to drag them all back #but zuko is actually really clever and LIES and says he has something better for ozai: he knows where the avatar is #so ozai sends zuko off at 13 to bring him the avatar! same as canon! and he sends iroh bc iroh has been clever and stayed ozai's ally #this whole time while working quietly with the white lotus to try and get ursa and the kids back #so ozai trusts him and sends him with zuko to spy on him effectively #so their three years together looking for the avatar is basically the exact same as in canon down to iroh trying to get through to zuko #AND MEANWHILE azula wants to find zuko but she doesnt know how until she hears that the avatar is back #her hero is alive and out there and if anyone can find her brother it'll be the avatar #so she joins the gaang! and zuko follows them and azula leaves him little clues and zuko puts off capturing aang bc he needs to get azula!#but they dont acc all unite until ba sing se and how do they do that? bc zuko starts blue spiriting and he meets sokka #so yeah. it's complicated. there's also a revolution in ba sing se that zukka started SKJHGKSJH it's all a mess #but we get protective big brother zuko and badass sokka and azula mummy issues exploration it's all so fun #ask #also i dont like the writing of this extract bc i wrote it literal YEARS ago like i started this wip before i did my fucking a-levels #so if the writing seems shitty that's my business

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