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#also i gotta bother them whenever i want food or smth
heliads · 2 months
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Hey! I gotta request something for our girl Clove. So could you do a Clove Kentwell x district 2 reader where they have been close friends since they were young and shared feelings for eachother but were scared to mess it but one day for some reason (ex: family invites them back or smth) has to move back to the capitol. The 2 lose contact and years later meet again in the lobby of the tribute building at night finally catching up on what has happened in their life. Perhaps also finally confessing to each other! I hope I've sent this in in time! Take your time!
'it's been a while ' - clove kentwell
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After years of living there, the Capitol is just as gaudy and useless as ever. The sheer quantity of ostentatiousness increases exponentially with the annual arrival of the Hunter Games, to the point where it’s damn near unlivable. Then again, when has it ever been somewhere you’d want to stay?
If you had it your way, you would have stayed in District Two forever. If you had it your way, you never would have come to the Capitol at all, not even as a tribute to become its latest Victor. District Two takes great pride in training its children to become winners in the Hunger Games, but you never fell for the whole spectacle. The only thing you had ever wanted was simply to be home, and then that was taken from you.
All your life, you were District. Your parents had ties to the Capitol, you knew that, but they had direct orders from President Snow that they were to maintain the strength of the district government by remaining there. You had assumed that you would go your whole life without ever leaving Two, and then their orders changed all of a sudden and you were gone. Back to the Capitol, although you had never been there as long as you were alive. Away from home.
That was a couple of years ago. It is expected that one would still nurse faint pangs for home, but over the months, everyone seems to assume that your passions would transfer over to such a remarkable place to spend your days. The Capitol is rich in many things, to be sure. The food is sublime, the houses are magnificent, the dresses sparkle.
Still, what it gains in material wealth, it lacks in substance and in soul. What you see as you look around you every day is a garish facade. Everyone here is dripping with wealth, but the only thing they cannot buy is true spirit. If anyone had a heart in the Capitol, they’ve long since sold it off to buy more gems and shoes. Nothing here is worth living for.
And, with the Hunger Games drawing ever near again, you’re painfully reminded of the emptiness of your current life once again. It is pure privilege that you could live here, secure in the knowledge that you’ll have enough food and clothes and shelter to keep you more than comfortable, yet you’d throw it all away if you could just be back in the one place where you actually felt alive.
You walk listlessly in the back corners of someone else’s mansion. Your family has been invited to an opening gala celebrating the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games. You’re decked out in the latest fashions, although your clothes are noticeably subdued compared to everyone else. Although it might bother your parents to no end, you can’t convince yourself to adopt the endless frivolity of the other Capitol residents. Not when you would be sickened whenever you looked at yourself in the mirror.
Apparently all sorts of important people to the Hunger Games are here tonight, Gamemakers and past Victors alike. It seems as if half the Capitol has been brought to this particular event, whether by their choice or otherwise. The main parties are happening a few floors up, with plenty of screens displaying the opening interviews of the latest round of tributes, but you just can’t force yourself to watch. Why get wrapped up in the stories of twenty-four new children when all but one are about to die?
Instead, you slink around below, where the lights are dim and you don’t have to worry about being seen. Your parents will be busy upstairs, where they’ll be too lost in the bubbling crowds to find you. Tomorrow, if they question you about where you were, you can lie and say you were up there with the rest. With these crushing throngs of partygoers, they would have absolutely no idea if you were telling the truth or not.
You’re not the only one down here, either. Although the significant majority of the Capitol is very interested in the results of the Games, there are a couple of people here and there who cannot stand the idea. Haymitch Abernathy, the District Twelve mentor, will spend most of his time upstairs wining and dining potential sponsors, but on occasion he cannot stomach the eager discussion of his own district’s children as lambs to a slaughter and he hides down here to catch his breath and sneak a sharp mouthful or five from a flask at his hip. 
Other Victors occasionally dip down the stairs when they’re sure they will not be found. They all have the same look in their eyes, and respond with the same flinching terror when they hear a loud bang like the cannons that announce dead tributes in the Games. This whole thing is a horrific show, and you can’t bear it any more than the others. Although you may be a Capitol citizen now, in your heart you will always be District. Your oldest friends were the ones sent in to die.
In fact, last year someone closer than a friend entered into the Games. Sometimes, as a child, you’re fortunate enough to have a best friend, someone who means the world to you because you mean the world to them. You’re past friendship bracelets and always remembering each other’s birthdays. This person is everything to you. The idea of forgetting them is impossible. Whoever you are, there will always be some part of you made up of them, all the insignificant habits and odd pronunciations you picked up from them.
This person is your world, and then you leave them for the Capitol. The day you had to tell Clove Kentwell that you were leaving District Two might have been the worst of your life, except for the day you left the district behind entirely. Although you had limited notice of when you were leaving, you still dreaded the hour in which you would have to inform your best friend that the most inseparable pair in all of Panem was about to be split up for good.
It is hard telling your best friend that you’re never going to see her again. It is harder still when she’s stopped being just a friend in your mind. Your feelings for Clove have changed over time, shifting from emotion to emotion without your approval, but in the end, you know for certain that you love her. You’re also fairly certain that Clove loves you back, but neither of you ever said a word about it to each other.
After all, how could you? The chances that either of you would be reaped for the Hunger Games were quite high, as was the expectation that you would volunteer. And even if you weren’t sent into the Games, the risk of confessing when the other didn’t feel the same way was catastrophic. You could destroy the friendship forever, and worse, still have to live so close together. The remnants of the glorious thing you once had would hang about you forever, choking you out whenever you dared to think about it. All of your days would be spent grieving Clove even while she still walked your streets and passed by your house, and then you would grow up and apart and the whole thing would be lost forever.
It was too terrible a fate to bear for both of you, and so you never said a word about it. You regret that sometimes, especially after you moved, but there’s nothing more to be done about it now. You are here, Clove is there, and never shall the two paths cross again.
That’s what you had thought, at least, and then last year you had been at a party celebrating the beginning of the seventy-third annual Hunger Games, and Caesar Flickerman had announced the two tributes from District Two, and one of them was Clove. You remember that night perfectly, how you spent the entirety of that evening frozen in place, unable to move a muscle while the rest of the party around you danced and cheered and placed bets. Your best friend was going into the Arena, and there was nothing you could do to save her.
You never saw Clove while she was in the Games, for better or for worse. Random strangers weren’t allowed to see the tributes, and since you live in the Capitol and Clove is from Two, that’s what you would always be:  strangers. Even though you knew everything about her, from the way she laughed to the exact balance of the syllables of your name in her mouth. Strangers, that’s what you were. Forever separate, never to meet again.
The course of the Hunger Games was immensely difficult. Each day you spent obsessing over the footage, trying to make out if she was injured or hungry or dead. Each night, you had to be all but dragged away from the monitors, so addicted were you to watching your girl. Even after they took you away, you could hardly sleep a wink. In the mornings, you rose early and ran to the live recordings of the Games, torn to pieces by the thought that she might have died while you were away.
In the end, though, Clove was victorious, and you watched from afar as she was paraded around and all but worshiped by the adoring Capitol and District Two. No amount of words can adequately describe the relief you felt when you knew that Clove would survive, although it was shadowed by the knowledge that even as Victor– especially as Victor– Clove would never be able to escape the hold of the Capitol.
You’ve seen many Victors come and go. They’re paraded to and from the Capitol whenever the Hunger Games are so much as mentioned, brought up every time so they can give their takes on the latest round of tributes or the design of the Arena or merely an update on what they’ve been doing since their latest publicized appearance. Once the Capitol tires of them, they’ll be allowed to return to their Districts for a couple of months before the TV cameras are sent out again to catch a glimpse of a Victor in its natural habitat.
She’s here now, probably, with some of the other Mentors or forced to mingle at any of the dozens of events happening across the Capitol. The thought turns your stomach. The on camera bits had been Clove’s least favorite part of being a Career, you’ve known that since you were a child. Clove dreamed of volunteering for the Hunger Games just like any other good District Two girl, but she’d told you fervently that she despised the interviews and all the acting fluff.
You’d been able to see that for yourself, too, while Clove was involved in the seventy-third Games. Although it may not have been apparent to any other onlooker, the advantage of the years you’ve spent by her side is that you know exactly when Clove is uncomfortable or unhappy, and she was just that while being grilled by Caesar Flickerman. Her mentor had trained her properly, and her impeccable demeanor never shifted, but you could see the tightness in her hands, the strain in her eyes. Clove didn’t want to be there any more than you wanted to be watching her.
A champagne bottle pops somewhere upstairs, causing the ceiling to rattle with a chorus of shouts. You’ll probably have to go up there sooner rather than later, or you really will be in trouble for skipping. To clear your head, you push open the doors to the house, letting the cool air wash over you. Just one lap around the mansion, then you’ll entertain the rest. You just need this one last moment of peace if you have any hope of survival.
You’re not expecting to see anyone else out here, but halfway through your circuit, a shadow crosses your path. You move out of the way automatically, not wanting to bother or be noticed by anyone from the Capitol, but you’ve hardly started moving again when a soft, careful voice says,
“Y/N?”
Instantly, you freeze in place. It’s been a long time since you last saw Clove Kentwell in person, but you’d know her voice anywhere, that precise cadence of syllables, each and every inflection like a feather-light touch upon her words.
You turn around slowly, and there she is, taller than you remember but no less stunning. Her eyes are more guarded than they used to be, but maybe that’s what you deserve for going away for so long and leaving her with a gaping hole in her armor.
“Clove?” You ask in return.
Hesitantly, you drift closer. You’re waiting for her to step back or leave, maybe, anything befitting someone you no longer quite now, but she doesn’t go. She doesn’t get closer, either, no delighted embraces for a long-absent best friend, but Clove’s never quite been that type anyway.
“It’s been a long time,” you say, when it becomes apparent that she’s waiting for you to do something.
Her brow twists. “Hasn’t it?”
The question is daring. After all, it is your fault that so much time has passed since the two of you crossed paths. You were the one who left, she was the one who stayed. It is perfectly reasonable for Clove to have nursed a grudge all this time.
“I didn’t want to go,” you remind her. “Trust me. I begged my family to let me stay, but they wouldn’t hear a word of it.”
“I do trust you,” Clove says softly. “I always have.”
The words twist in your heart like a knife. You’re not sure what to say to that, not sure even that you can say anything to it, not without losing yourself, so you briskly change the subject. “I saw you in the Games. You did well.”
Clove scoffs. “There were a couple of sloppy kills. I could have done better.”
This makes you laugh. It’s just like Clove to have won the Hunger Games and still have pointers for herself on what she could have done better. “You had an excellent showing, Clove, and you know that.”
Clove arches a brow. “You saw my Games?”
“Every minute,” you admit. “I couldn’t look away. I was scared that if I did, you’d die. I’ve lost a lot of you, Clove Kentwell. I didn’t want to lose your last moments, too.”
She’s quiet for a while, and it occurs to you that you might have overstepped. Ducking your head, you mumble something about heading back inside, and move to brush past her. Clove catches at your arm before you can go. Her grip is as steady as always, radiating quiet strength without having to hurt you. She’s never hurt you. Not in all those years of training and playing around has she harmed so much as a hair on your head.
“Wait,” she says suddenly. “Don’t go yet. You– you haven’t told me what happened to you yet.”
You frown. “What?”
Clove shakes her head slightly, her dark curls catching in the moonlight. “You saw how I’ve been in the Games last year, but I don’t know what you’ve been doing. It’s been years. Don’t you know how many times I’ve thought about you? Wondered what you were doing? If you were making friends you liked more than me?”
“Never,” you pledge immediately. “I’ve talked to people here, but none of them could come close to you. They don’t get me, not like you do. Everyone here is cold and insincere. Sure, they’ll pretend to tolerate me so they can get to my family’s money, but they don’t actually like me. Not like you did.”
Clove’s voice comes quietly in the dark. “No one could like you like I did.”
Your eyes dart up to her. “Clove–”
“No,” she says firmly. “I’ve done enough running. I wanted to tell you when I knew you were moving, but you were gone too fast. I don’t know if I’m going to get another chance so I have to take this one while I have it. I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for years.”
A firework goes off overhead, the remnants of someone else’s late night party. It feels as if the red matter between your ribs has been tossed up there in the sky, made glittery and meteoric so everyone can see and delight in the cascade of bright emotions rippling through your heart. It is one thing to imagine that Clove might have feelings for you, to assume that you enough of her mind to decide what she thought of you, but it is an entirely different matter to hear her confirm it after all this time.
“I love you too,” you say in a sudden rush.
The corner of Clove’s mouth pulls up into a victorious smirk, so familiar an expression that you can remember a hundred other times you’ve seen this exact impression, heard her voice tinged by triumph in this same way. “I knew that, obviously. I just wanted to make sure you know I loved you first, that’s all.”
You laugh. It’s a giddy sound. You don’t think you’ve laughed for real since you arrived at the Capitol, and your voice is a little hoarse from disuse, but it gets easier in moments. Everything is easier around Clove, it always has been. “You loved me first? I didn’t realize it was a contest.”
She snorts. “Everything is a contest, Y/N. We’re Careers.”
Your delighted mood slips away from you once you remember where you are, what you’ve become since you saw her last. “Am I? I’m not in Two anymore.”
Clove’s dark brows narrow. “Of course you are. You grew up with me, you think I don’t know who you are? You’re one of us, Y/N. You’re part of me, and you always will be.”
A soft, tentative smile starts to slip back onto your face. “Always, huh?”
It’s dark, hard to see Clove’s expression, but you swear you can still sense the heated flush as it creeps onto her cheeks. “Always.”
The voices from inside the house are starting to grow more insistent. “We should probably go back inside,” you say reluctantly. 
In a perfect world, you would stay outside forever, talking happily with Clove while the fireworks flared overhead. Then again, in a perfect world, you never would have left District Two at all. However, when Clove takes your hand, and you walk side by side back into the house, you start to think that maybe you’ll have some semblance of your perfect world after all, one in which even the distance can’t stop you and Clove from being together. Victors are always in the Capitol, after all. Your paths will cross again, and this time, you will have nothing to fear. Not even separation.
hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope
all tags list: @wordsarelife
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alohajun · 2 years
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♡ TREASURE’S REACTION TO HAVING A SOUTH ASIAN S/O
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treasure x south asian!reader | wc : 0.9k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationships, interracial couple (korean/japanese + south asian), mentions of food | request : could i request treasure reaction to their s/o or their girl being indian? thank you👀🥺 | loki's lines : wrote south asian instead of just indian since i relate more to that, i hope you don’t mind :( also, i tried a new layout!
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HYUNSUK, YOSHI, JUNKYU, JEONGWOO
💎 they are very curious about anything and everything, so expect to be bombarded with questions whenever they suddenly fall into a curious mood
💎 hyunsuk and jeongwoo know they can be a bit of a motor mouth, so they want to gain more knowledge to ensure they don’t do or say anything that’ll offend the south asian culture
💎 yoshi and junkyu are just plain curious and want to know more for the sake of understanding you better — and maybe even impressing you by picking up on certain skills
💎 being an interracial couple can be difficult, but they will assure you before you can even utter a word about how you felt
💎 when you kept staring their way as they did smth, they already knew you were going to ask smth like “are you sure you want to be with me?” or “does it bother you i’m south asian?”
💎 hyunsuk and yoshi would watch you with furrowed brows as you spoke, trying to express wordlessly that what you were asking was absolute nonsense
💎 junkyu and jeongwoo were the more playful ones — not even letting you get a word as they kept making incomprehensible noises to change the topic
💎 “… ykw imma let this pass just this once bc clearly you didn’t hear me two mins ago when i told you i love you.”
💎 “look, babe … i may be a multilingual, but that doesn’t mean i understand the absolute nonsense you are asking me rn. i love you for you and nothing else matters, so stfu.”
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JIHOON, MASHIHO, JAEHYUK, HARUTO
💎 okok before we get into it, i just gotta say this quad in south asian traditional wear 😭 HELP ME GODS WHY DO I HURT MYSELF WITH MY THOUGHTS
💎 they wouldn’t be as curious as the others, but they’d definitely do their research unbeknownst to you, wanting to surprise you by appearing to be geniuses in your culture
💎 you’d visit every south asian restaurant around with him, trying to find a place where the food tasted more like home so you could feel better whenever you felt homesick
💎 alas, no restaurant could even get close to your family’s cooking — but that didn’t mean that he’d give up
💎 jihoon and mashiho would call up your family when you weren’t around, asking them about the foods you liked and how to make them
💎 they’d surprise you with a meal, inviting you over for a movie night, but showed you a table full of all the foods you liked, replicated to taste like what you grew up eating
💎 jaehyuk and haruto would try their hand at cooking too, but would rather plan a surprise meetup with your family — especially after you were visibly homesick after maybe meeting his family or needed a change from your environment
💎 would definitely surprise you one day when they had a photoshoot spontaneously, just bc the traditional wear they ordered had arrived
💎 you’d be pleasantly surprised when you saw his enthusiasm to wear south asian traditional clothes, and even more surprised to see how great he looked in them
💎 the two of you would have a makeshift background using white bedsheets, posing for the camera, with you just grinning ear to ear at the happiness you felt and him just smiling bc you were happy
💎 “wow, we look amazing — more you than me, but i look decent, don’t you think?”
💎 “there were more amazing looking ones, but they were pricey and i thought we could just save the money to buy them for our wedding instead. yes, i said what i said, now shut your mouth, you are gonna catch a fly.”
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ASAHI, YEDAM, DOYOUNG, JUNGHWAN
💎 these are the “okay? and your point is?” squad
💎 they simply just don’t care about what people think bc you are all that matters to him — what you think matters to him more than what others think
💎 every day is filled with words of affirmation or just affectionate touches which make you feel at ease — bc yk that he loves having you around regardless of you being south asian
💎 smth that surprised you about him was how he was the one to ask you if you didn’t mind being with him
💎 he’d do everything to make sure you are comfortable and confident with your relationship
💎 actually takes pride in the fact that you are south asian bc he feels like y’all can be some icon for people who don’t believe in interracial relationships
💎 in fact, i feel like these four are the type to go out more in public if anyone ever commented (somewhat negatively) about your relationship (unless you didn’t want to, that is)
💎 night walks, day walks, picnics, movies, shopping — he’d wanna do everything with you for everyone to see just so they could see how much fun y’all were together (and we love a bit of pda to piss off the haters)
💎 stares are bound to happen when y’all walk on the streets, but you can count on him to make you feel at ease
💎 “dang, i knew we looked good, but i didn’t think we’d look this great for them to be looking at us like this. should i ask them if they want a picture of us?”
💎 “oh, dammit. i knew i shouldn’t have worn mismatched shoes. now everyone is staring at us bc of it. i’m sorry, y/n. just bear with it for a while until i make mismatched shoes a trend.”
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taglist — @kflixnet @ravenori @xiaosimp3 @nanasdream @twntycm @roseky21 @heejojo @jaesvelvet @fightmegirl @koishua @silent-potato @lovethyfandoms2 @kpoprhia @woooooooosh8 @milkybonya @enhacolor @yunho-leeknow @yoshiikore @f4ery @candililac @willdieforbeidou @luvbrie @jun-bug @mui890mew @yogurteume @one16core @soobin-chois @odetoyeonjun @wonluvrbot @augustle0 @acciomylove @idkwatodoanymore @kyufilms @wyynn @ily-cuz-i @acaiasahi @enhatrejor (to be added, please send an ask or dm!)
TREASURE MASTERLIST
© 2022 ALOHAJUN | PLEASE REFRAIN FROM COPYING OR REPOSTING MY WORK WITHIN OR OUTSIDE THIS SITE
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transtemic · 3 years
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lmao every time im quarantined i have a breakdown i wonder if theres a pattern there /s
#im lowkey not having a good time already and its only day 2 of quarantine#the kicker is im isolating myself from even my family members so im confined to my room a tiny bathroom and the corridor in between#also i gotta bother them whenever i want food or smth#i also wanted to get a doctors appointment per video but had some issues so i gotta wait another day to even think abt getting tested#im rlly sympathising w this one friend of mine whos been in long distance learning all this damn time#shit truly couldn't have been easy for her#also i just hate having to lean on people to much. im not at the point where i have to be 1000% independent but /having to/ depend on ppl#i dont rlly like. ill accept help when needed and offered to me but not having any choice makes me feel awful#ícaro rants#also currently missing my cat. my baby was there for me thru the shitshow that was the start of my heavy depression#he acted as almost an esa i guess?? i had someone else to be responsible for and keep me grounded and love me unconditionally#it rlly hit me hard when my dad just decided to give him away to my grandma without me knowing. truly fuck that dude for that#i didnt wanna show it bc i did get p bad at taking care of him all by myself and he truly is happier w her but like talk to me abt it maybe?#n e ways trust issues relating to cats aside#no yknow what im digging seeper into this hole what are these tags for if not for psychoanalysing myself#so my dad rlly hates cats right. hes like scared of them ig??? but it comes out as real hate and anger a lot of the time.#like when i had my cat my dad literally kicked him which injured my cats eye. i had to put cream on it for like weeks.#and then just gave him away to my grandma behind my back just to get rid of him.#my dad also hit me and my brother for reasons??? and still defends it to this day and refuses to be seen as the 'villain' for it#(as in be seen as worse than my mum bc she left us w him. hes like at least i stayed!!1! as if that erases his abuse)#and he also constantly dismisses us being fucked up from it just bc he had it worse from his own parents.#newsflash asshole just bc you were a child abuse victim doesnt mean ur incapable of abusing ur own kids.#n e ways. his abuse of his kids show a superiority complex (hes allowed to hit us bc xyz) and anger issues. the cat is an extension of that.#and thats why im so attached to cats and relate to them so much. personality and time spent w them in childhood also plays a role#but percieved shared/associated trauma makes me even more attached to them.#...... wow who needs a therapist when you can have *~*~realisations~*~* at 10pm during a breakdown. /j#ask to tag#abuse mention tw
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hi hi hi! :) can i ask for some seijou third year headcanons on them finding out + taking care of their pregnant s/o (like I can definitely imagine them texting and calling each other for advice and planning daddy 101 meetings)?
d a d dy 101 meetings lmao yes
Matsukawa
• his s/o blurts out that they’re pregnant during dinner and he chokes on the food. not the best timing to say it but they were v v anxious ok
• asks if it’s true between his coughs and tears and when receiving a “yes” he stands up and pulls them in for a hug
• now he’s crying for the happy news but also the near death choking experience 
he deals with the whole weird ass food cravings really good and isn’t bothered by the fact that they want waffles with mayonnaise and bananas 
isn’t too worried that they’d do something that will make them exhausted but is there to rub their shoulders or smth
Hanamaki
• he received a box with his fav snack cream puffs and when he opened it it was two large puffs and a itty bitty one, didn’t really sink in so he started eating on one of them before 
• wait… two.. large one and a..tiny one.. a baby one..baby? bABY? *muffled voice* YOU’RE PREGNANT? 
• spins his s/o around and they cannot understand shit he says bc he still have the cream puff in his mouth lmao he is very happy tho
when his s/o starts crying over minor things bc hormones sucks he will be so much at lost? but try his best to make them feel better
will walk a mile to get whatever they’re craving. And if hugs are demanded? will do. want to be alone? will do. I’ll leave some food in the fridge for u
Oikawa
• s/o sits him down on the couch and says they gotta talk and he is soon worried. like have he fucked up or what’s going on. His thoughts get interrupted by them saying that they’re late
• doesn’t get it at all. What u mean by late. And when his lover puts his hand over their stomach he just gasps in shock 
• tears in his eyes he hugs them tightly and on and on says “we’re going tp be parents” “omg i can’t believe it i’m so happy” “I love you”
helps them buying everything necessary they might need during the pregnancy, clothes, shoes etc and there’s not one day he won’t say they are beautiful 
can’t really handle the weird food cravings but he manages bc they are carrying a freaking baby. He will do what he needs to do to make them feel at ease
Iwaizumi
• one day his s/o asks him what he thinks about kids, a bit thrown off tho he will say that he’d love to have a family with them and s/o looks at him and does the finger guns and says “Well good cause guess what- i’m pregnant”. 
• “Really? You’re not kidding are you?” nope. “Holy shit” he can’t stop smiling and kisses their forehead and hugs them
• he feels as if he could run a mile right then bc he is so excited 
dad material right here. So calm and collected and will be at their side whenever they need him. Also notes down what they can eat and not eat and what makes them feel sick etc
only time he IS at lost is when their hormones are out of control, never been too good with emotions like that. But he learns 
Daddy 101 Meetings
• u can bet ur ass that they will have a group chat where they constantly asks for advice to each other for this and that and tips for whatever it might be. 
• have “meetings” here and there to talk about the baby rooms and what stories one can read to baby’s and lullaby’s. All that hams and jams there is to prepare for babies and parenthood. obvi they do it with their partners as well 
But also
• BABY NAMES
• that one is a very much discussed one- both serious and not so serious 
Matsukawa: Consider naming your kid Stacy
Oikawa: That’s a cute na-
Hanamaki: Short for Ecstasy. Because raising a kid will be a fucking trip
Iwaizumi: sTOP 
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i-read-good-books · 7 years
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Expomise Chapter 6!
I updated Expomise!
Summary: 
“It’s really good to see you, Victor. Love the hair.”
His friend flushes, “Y-yes, I thought so, too.”
For a moment, they just kind of stand there, in silence, not really knowing what to say. Yuuri wants to tell him to come in again, wants to ask how Chris and Georgi are doing, wants to reach out and touch him, like he always does.
Except… he doesn’t.
Link to ao3: here
Chapter under the cut:
“I am a strong, independent wizard who needs no man,” Yuuri whispers to himself, clutching his scarf close to his chest. “This is fine.”
“Yuuri?” Luke’s voice reaches him just as he’s finishing lacing up his skates, as cheerful as always. “We’re waiting for you here!”
“...Coming,” he calls back weakly, straightening himself up and turning to glance backwards. The Coaches who have hours in the mornings are on the ice, carefully guiding beginners and lecturing some more experienced skaters, all of which look half-asleep still, clinging to the barriers and groaning every few minutes of exhausting exercise.
Luke, of course, is also there; because the universe just hates Yuuri that much that it didn’t have enough making him anxious and terrified of squirrels. He’s at the short door that opens up to the ice, beaming at him, wearing his colourful pink beanie and the tightest leggings Yuuri’s ever seen (and he’s a ballet dancer). “Slide in, big boy.”
Yuuri flushes as he’s making his way towards him, wincing at the sound the blade make against the ground, even if it’s protected against them, “Please don’t call me that, Luke.”
“Aw,” the teenager pouts, in a way  so unnecessarily dramatic that it reminds Yuuri of Phichit. “But aren’t you such a big, strong boy?”
“I’m thi- almost fourteen,” he splutters, not meeting his eyes. “And I’ve got class now, you know.”
“You were so much nicer to me at the beginning,” Luke smiles, gently moving so that they’re skating together towards where the  Coaches are. Yuuri only has morning classes like these on weekends, since he mostly uses the rink alone with Celestino during the afternoons, to practice his magic, and he’s changed his rink from last year, so he’s still a bit unfamiliar with the rest of the adults there. That means nothing when it comes to Luke, though, he practically lives here.
Yuuri met Luke last year, at the open ice rink during Christmas, and Luke told him he had talent.
“He was scared of you at the beginning,” Yuuko pipes in, happily coming to a stop in front of them. She’s the reason Yuuri changed rinks this year, to one further away from his home, which he has to Floo to. It’s close to Minako’s, though, so he makes the trip count.
“He couldn’t be,” Luke gasps, “I’m so undeniably pleasant.”
He smiles at Yuuri as he says so, taking a moment to rub his shoulders in a friendly way, the same kind of ‘big brother’ affection he loves showering Yuuri in, and his blue eyes shine.
For a moment, Yuuri can’t breathe properly.
“Come on, Yuuri,” Yuuko grabs his hand, “We have to practice together! That’s why we’re rinkmates. You can try holding me up.”
“Yuuko, that’s dangerous - “
“Gotta go, bye!”
Honestly? She’s just saved him from completely humiliating himself by trying to speak to Luke normally. It’s basically impossible.
Yuuri is um, he’s pretty sure he kinda, um… he kinda likes Luke.
It’s not a big deal! And it’s not like Yuuri is like, totally lusting after him or falling in love with him, either. Luke is just really handsome, and nice, and smiles a lot, and holds his hand when he trips on ice, and says his skating is good, and -
Well. Luke is um. He’s a cool guy, okay? Anyone would have a small crush on him, he’s got that special charm that makes people flock to him like birds. Mari teases him about it all the time, to his absolute horror. Whenever she comes pick him up at the ice rink she makes a show out of calling out Luke’s name, asking how Yuuri’s done, and smiling blindingly the whole way through, ecstatic.
“I hate you so much,” Yuuri groans as they exit the place, burying his face in his hands. “Why can’t you let me be?”
“Oh, was I bothering you two?” Mari presses the back of her palm against her forehead, mock-ashamed. “I never meant to interrupt your romantic encounters. But you can’t blame me, the last time you had a crush was on that one girl who lives across the street.”
“He’s like, your age,” Yuuri whines, pushing her so that she moves quickly. He’s almost certain Luke can’t hear them, but it’s better to make sure. Just in case. “And I don’t like him!”
His sister hums noncommittally, “Yes, of course. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Yuuri.” She smirks, “Or whatever helps you at night, even if you don’t actually sleep.”
“Oh my god - I can’t believe - I am going to murder you -” His cheeks are flaming red. Did she just imply…?
Mari holds her hands up, “You’re almost fourteen, little bro, I wasn’t born yesterday.”
Yuuri glares at her, hoping his blush isn’t as noticeable as he thinks, “Well, you tease like a two-year-old, so it’s an easy mistake.”
“Oi!” she punches him in the arm lightly, cackling when he yelps. “No badmouthing your sister because you get hot over an older guy!”
“Please kill me,” Yuuri begs to no one in particular.
Of course, Phichit’s reaction to the “news” (Yuuri awkwardly mumbling, “I think I have a crush on a guy at my ice rink.” during one of their nightly Skype calls, feeling like his heart’s about to burst out of his chest) is much different, and almost endearingly Phichit-like.
First, he tells Yuuri that under no circumstances is he to try to date the guy, as if.
“He is much older than you, Yuuri!” he waggles his finger threateningly on his laptop’s screen. “And a guy who hasn’t already asked you out on a date after seeing you in your ice skating glory doesn’t deserve you, anyway. Besides,” he seems especially insistent in this part, “I think you already have some very, very dateable people around you. You don’t need this boy.”
“I’m not going to date him,” Yuuri whispers harshly, checking around to make sure his parents haven’t woken up. No sound from their bedroom. “I was just telling you because it’s been driving me mad. Now that I’ve actually told someone, I can forget him!”
“Oh, no,” Phichit smiles, “You ain’t forgetting Luke Matthews anytime soon, buddy, but well. He’s your type, isn’t he? Gorgeous blond hair, endless blue eyes, smooth pale skin, and that smile, dear lord.”
Yuuri’s eyes widen, “Phichit, how do you know what he looks like?”
“How do you think?” he raises an eyebrow. “I just followed him on Instagram, obviously.”
“Phichit, unfollow him right now or I swear I will cut off your wifi.”
His friend winks, “We’re not in Hogwarts, my dear Yuuri.” He laughs at Yuuri’s dismayed expression of realization, and settles back in his chair, his smile widening. Phichit’s gotten a haircut recently, a nice one that makes his eyes stand out more. “How’s the summer coming along otherwise, cute boy notwithstanding?”
Yuuri bites his lower lip in thought, running his fingers through his hair, “Um. I’m getting more and more into skating, actually. I might be able to do a proper competition jump soon, other than waddling through my Salchow. Yuri’s been hinting at wanting to try my mom’s katsudon, so I’m probably gonna invite him over sometime soon.” He thinks about it, “Might invite Victor, too, while I’m at it.”
“Oh yeah, you do that.” Phichit nods, and then he lets out a small laugh, “Don’t tell him about Luke, though.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Yuuri rolls his eyes, “I’m not that stupid, you know, I’d already figured he might be jealous.”
His friend stares at him, mouth hanging open, “You had? Um, w-when?”
“Like, the first day?” Yuuri sighs. “Victor’s really nitpicky about anyone teaching me figure skating, he gets all petty every time Yuuko helps me with anything. Do you think I’d tell him about an older guy with more experience giving me lessons?”
For some reason, Phichit looks almost like he’s about to laugh again, his eyes twinkling, but he just says, giggling, “Yes, I’m pretty sure Victor would object to an experienced guy giving you private lessons, Yuuri.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing at his friend, “Honestly, you treat me like I’m so dumb. Obviously I’d realized Victor is a protective teacher.”
“Very protective teacher,” Phichit agrees, smirking suspiciously.
yuuri katsucky (because you SUCK)
i dont know what u wanted me to do. like. do u want to like. poison the food or smth. i dont care tbh. im going to ur house anyway bc im invincible. so fuck u who cares tbh
nikiforov says hes going too but meh.  whatever
Yuri always writes such nice things.
Knowing that both Yuri and Victor are coming means that Yuuri spends the day before their arrival cleaning every corner of the house, meticulously making sure his parents don’t leave anything...incriminating (like the one teen Witches’ Fave Hottie: Victor Nikiforov! poster he bought because he was curious) around, and peering over their shoulders as they cook and wrinkling his nose if they put their feet on the table.
“Seriously, you’d think you were the adult,” his mother mutters, ruffling his hair while he works on his summer homework. His parents make him see a tutor to keep him updated on muggle school work, in case he doesn’t want to work in the wizarding world. Mom still thinks that the fact that they don’t study biology at Hogwarts is a crime against humanity.
He’s still fretting, fixing his clothes, the moment he hears the doorbell ring.
The first thing that Yuuri thinks when he opens the door, smiling, calling out to his parents, “They’re here!”, and sees the two Slytherins waiting outside for him is that, no matter how much he sometimes feels like Celestino is working him to death, it’s nothing compared to Feltsman.
It’s less noticeable in Yuri, who’s grumbling, wearing respectable clothes for once (although his earrings are tiger claws, of course), because the boy still looks almost eerily like a fairy, lean and skinny in a way that suggests elegant rather than ‘awkward’. But it’s undeniable the second he glances at Victor.
Victor babbled about ‘starting to really train’ for Junior Worlds after he came clean to Yuuri regarding it, delighting him with schedules upon schedules of what he had to do this summer to get up to bar in order to compete internationally. He even confessed that he may not write as many letters, with all the stuff he had to do, apologizing profusely. So Yuuri was expecting him to gain a little muscle and all but, um. They haven’t seen each other in almost two months, and the change is just a little bit striking.
His hair’s longer, almost reaching down to his back now, but he’s got it on the side, tied up in a stylish ponytail. Apart from that, all the differences are the fact that Yuuri’s pretty sure Victor’s grown at least ten centimeters since he last saw him, which finally cements his position as ‘the short friend’, something he’s been able to avoid with Phichit, thankfully. He also just seems more filled out; his shoulders are a bit further apart, his face is slightly skinnier, and he stands with more confidence, balancing his weight like he’s making an entrance.
“Hey, Yuuri,” Victor says, smiling.
He reminds Yuuri, just slightly, of Luke.
“Your voice is deeper,” he blurts out automatically, even though it’s not that big of a change, after taking in the rest. He flushes, embarrassed, and doesn’t meet his eyes, “Oh, sorry, uh, come in, you two, we’re expecting you!”
Yuri rolls his eyes, “Always collected, Huffle.”
Yuuri pokes his nose as he goes by, laughing at his infuriated yelp, “It’s good to see you, Yuri.”
“Don’t steal any paintings,” Victor tells him cheerfully, which makes him glower so bad that Yuuri’s kind of impressed he doesn’t back down. He turns to look at Yuuri again, “How have you been?” Victor bites his lip and fidgets with his hands, glancing at him from between his eyelashes, “I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to write much recently, Yakov’s been running me down.”
“Um,” Yuuri swallows. Were his eyelashes really that long before? “Oh, um, it’s fine. You already told me about it, you know.” He smiles back at him,“It’s really good to see you, Victor. Love the hair.”
His friend flushes, “Y-yes, I thought so, too.”
For a moment, they just kind of stand there, in silence, not really knowing what to say. Yuuri wants to tell him to come in again, wants to ask how Chris and Georgi are doing, wants  to  reach out and touch him, like he always does.
Except… he doesn’t.
“Yuuri?” his mom’s voice, coming from the kitchen, interrupts his train of thought. He startles, turning back. “Don’t leave your friend at the door, it’s rude.”
“Sorry, mom,” he mumbles, chastised. “Oh, so, you have to take your shoes off, see…”
Yuri and Victor meeting his parents goes extraordinarily well. Yuuri was slightly worried that Victor would say something accidentally offensive (one can never be sure with purebloods. Phichit, in his search for knowledge, innocently asked Yuuri when they were 11 if muggles took showers, too.), or that Yuri would burn the house down or something (one can never be sure with Yuri Plisetsky), but they come out of it mostly unscathed.
“So, Victor,” his mom sets down her fork and looks at his friend, smiling. “Yuuri has been telling us about you since forever. It would be truly nice to see you figure skate.”
Victor preens, leaning back in his chair before answering, turning on the ‘pureblood charm’. It’s a term that Leo and Yuuri made up after spending so much of their time around old, rich purebloods: however ridiculously awkward they may seem around their friends, regardless of their gross quirks and hand gestures, they turn into something like wizarding debutantes in the presence of any respectable adult, channeling thousands of gala nights into perfect table manners, unbelievable skilled public speaking and just the right amount of compliments.
Yuuri thinks it’s kind of silly, but undeniably useful for some situations. Leo calls it “Phichit trying not to seem Phichit”. Yuri has another name for it: “pretentious pampering”.
“Well, Mrs. Katsuki,” Victor closes his eyes briefly, beaming at her, “I’m sure that Yuuri has exaggerated my abilities. You see, he’s a very biased friend, although I do appreciate it.”
His mom smiles, “Oh, you’re so well-spoken, what a treasure.”
Yuri, who’s said a total of 10 words during the duration of the meal and is currently shoving katsudon into his mouth as quickly as possible, snorts.
After lunch, when they’re helping clean up the kitchen, Yuuri moves next to Victor, murmuring, “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
His friend cocks his head at him, furrowing his brow in confusion, “Do what?”
“Go all ‘look at me, I’m respectable’ on my parents,” Yuuri shrugs. “They don’t care, really. Phichit never goes pureblood mode on them. And, um,” he flushes, scratching the back of his neck, “They’re going to like you anyway, with all the stuff I’ve told them about you. I’m pretty sure my parents are convinced that you and Phichit save me from hordes of bullies every minute I’m in school.”
“I would,” Victor says immediately, as if on reflex, and then freezes, “I mean, we would.” He licks his lips, glancing downwards, “I didn’t mean to um, go ‘pureblood mode’, or whatever.”
“I’m used to it,” he smiles. He steps a little bit closer, mindful that no one hears them, just enough that their feet are almost touching in the narrow kitchen. It’s a little harder to breathe. “But you can be yourself with me, okay?”
Victor’s eyes flutter shut, before he whispers, quiet, “You’re an evil, evil guy, Yuuri Katsuki.”
Victor has to leave early (something about the amount of hours he has to sleep while on ‘Yakov’s training regime from hell’), but Yuri’s allowed to stay a little longer. Mari pats him for a while and challenges him to a selfie match of death (the theme is ‘who can balance more things on their nose while taking a selfie at the same time’, and it ends with them breaking five ceramic bowls and Yuri’s shoe on Mari’s face), and after a while both Yuri and Yuuri go upstairs, letting the adults watch a film. Something about a stone, a three-headed dog and a giant chess game. Honestly, Warners Bros are running out of ideas.
“Katsuki,” Yuri begins, flopping down on his bed and narrowing his eyes at him. “If you even think trying to make me play a board game, I’ll murder you.”
From where he’s kneeling down next to his bookshelf, Yuuri quickly lets go of the Monopoly box, “O-of course I wouldn’t do that, haha.”
Yuri huffs, stretching out on the bed like a cat and sighing, “I should have just gone home. You’re a mess, like always.”
“Well;” Yuuri swallows, moving to sit on his desk chair. “What do you want to do, then?”
“Sleep. Wake up and find out moderate maiming is legal and encouraged. Maybe eat pizza.”
“You just had like, three katsudon bowls!”
Yuuri hisses, “I don’t need you and your judging in my life.”
He holds his hands up, admitting defeat, “Okay, okay.” Yuuri giggles, “You’re cute when you’re excited about things, you know.”
The younger boy glares at him, showing his teeth, “I am not cute.”
“Oh yeah?” Yuuri teases, dragging his chair so it’s closer to the bed. “What about when you spent three hours telling me about the cat shelter that had opened up next to your house?”
Yuri’s ears go bright red, “I was not excited, you degenerate, I was merely moderately pleased that the human race has finally accepted cats as superior beings and are providing for their needs cost-free.”
“Or when you made me rewatch Otabek Altin’s catching the snitch ten times in the match against Portugal? With added commentary? And flaschards?”
The Slytherin throws a pillow at him, “It was twenty centimeters away, Katsuki. Learn to appreciate gods on Earth.”
Yuuri just laughs.
Hey Victor,
Thanks so much for sending me a book like you mentioned when you came over last week. I just thought that the book we talked about was one on magical creatures (remember? I mentioned I was struggling with the utter hell that is learning that so many stuff I thought didn’t exist is actually real?) and not your copy of Bridget Jones’s Diary.
Still loved it, though.
Yuuri
YUURI
OH MY GOD I’M SORRY
IT’S MY SUMMER READ OKAY THE MUGGLE STUDIES TEACHER MADE US READ ONE OF THESE LITTLE SHITS IT’S NOT LIKE I WAS READING IT BECAUSE I LIKED IT OR ANYTHING OKAY
SENDING YOU THE RIGHT BOOK WITH THIS LETTER
FML
VICTOR
“Hey,” Luke’s voice so close to him makes him look up, startled. The older skater is standing next to him, smiling cheerfully. He adjusts his beanie before patting him on the shoulder, “So, you’re leaving, are you, big boy?”
Yuuri flushes, not meeting his eyes. It’s his last figure skating lesson before he goes to Hogwarts for the school year, and he won’t be coming back until the summer. “Yeah, boarding school.”
“Ah, boarding school,” Luke muses. He bites his lower lip, glancing around them for a few seconds. He seems nervous. “Um, before you left, I wanted to ask you something.”
Yuuri nods, itching to get on the ice and start practicing, “Sure.”
Luke blurts out, “I was kind of hoping I could get your sister’s number.”
Yuuri freezes.
Oh.
Oh.
So that’s why he was so friendly, he realizes, with an almost disturbing calmness. Luke’s waiting for an answer, cheeks red, scratching the back of his neck. He looks just as embarrassed as Yuuri feels by this conversation, although for very different reasons. Luke probably didn’t even guess that Yuuri sorta has a crush on him. He swallows, “You like my sister?”
“...yeah,” Luke mumbles, staring at his feet. “I know it’s super weird, to go around asking her little brother, but I didn’t realize you wouldn’t be coming anymore, and I hadn’t gotten up the courage to ask her, so I was just hoping - I’m sorry, this is terrible.”
Despite himself, Yuuri lets out a short giggle, “Yeah, a little.” He takes a deep breath, ignoring the slight pang in his chest. “But I’ll give you her number anyway.”
Luke beams at him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and rubbing their cheeks together in excitement, “That’s my boy!”
It still makes Yuuri feel slightly lightheaded, having him so close, touching. And yet, there’s many things Yuuri can deal with, but crushing on a guy who would like to date his sister is not one of them. He’s ordering Phichit to unfollow him on all social media and erasing him from his memory.
“Yep,” he mutters. “That’s me.”
He reconsiders. Phichit would probably get angry on Yuuri’s behalf, even if it was more of a hero-worship crush than anything else, and make a big deal out of it. He’ll tell Victor, instead, he decides. Just omit the part where he’s a skater and everything will be fine.
“Mom,” Victor says, in a very quiet, very controlled voice. She looks up from the book she’s reading, blinking. Her son is holding a letter, one of those that come with puppies stickers on the front and Yuuri Katsuki’s signature on the bottom. “Have you ever wanted to murder someone?”
fin
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