#somehow managed to write through extreme emotions
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Checklist
Dec. 1st ꣑ৎ Silver Bells (You insist on decorating the tree with Coryo)
Dec 2nd ꣑ৎ Evergreen (The first snowfall with Billy)
Dec 5th ꣑ৎ Stocking Stuffer (You and Alex determine who's naughty and who's nice)
Dec 9th ꣑ৎ Cookie Cutters (Building a gingerbread house with modern Finnick)
Dec 12th ꣑ৎ Ice Dance (You and Coryo get caught in a storm)
Dec 13th ꣑ৎ Mistletoe Kisses (Figuring out Christmas cards with Alex)
Dec 16th ꣑ৎ River (On the run with the love of your life, you try to convince yourself that Christmas doesn't matter. Billy has other plans)
Dec 17th ꣑ৎ absolute heart wrenching billy angst
Dec 19th ꣑ৎ Snowflakes and Sand Dollars (You and Finnick wake up to find snow on the beach)
Dec 22nd ꣑ৎ The Road Not Taken (Alex was your first real love and your first real heartbreak. So why have your parents invited him to their holiday party?)
Dec 24th ꣑ৎ Candy Cane Mocktails (Christmas gala with Coryo)
Dec 25th ꣑ৎ Tied With a Ribbon (Christmas with Billy, Fish, and Willow)
#DONE WITH ALL THE 12DAYS <3 <3#it's been a journey#somehow got them all out in time#somehow managed to write through extreme emotions#I hope they're all good hehe <3
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do you have any tips on how to write for a quiet character living a comfortable life abruptly being forced to adapt to a rowdy and somewhat violent environment?
Writing Ideas: Quiet Characters
common literary & character tropes
Beware the Quiet Ones: When the character who is hardly ever upset about something, suddenly raises their voice, the world turns upside down and seems to come to an end. There is an unleashed raging or cold speech of epic proportions that not even the most demented character in the story would want to sit through. This rage is almost always expressed verbally, though violence can also be included. Another version could be when the heroes' team is in low spirits, and The Quiet One, fed up with all the sulking, throws the table (or something else) to the side and gives a Rousing Speech to their comrades.
Elective Mute: It turns out that a character assumed to be unable to talk actually can speak, they just choose to be silent most of the time.
Emotionless Girl: An enigmatic female character who appears to be entirely emotionless. Whether she actually is emotionless depends on the story and often on her level of characterization.
Heroic Mime: A hero who never speaks.
Silent Scapegoat: Somebody who willingly takes the blame for everyone else's wrongdoings.
Suddenly Speaking: A character who was initially silent eventually reveals that they can speak after all.
The Quiet One: A character who does speak, but not as much as the other characters.
The Stoic: Quiet demeanor tends towards the brusque or outright rudeness, though there are a few polite Stoics. Some stoics may try to give the impression of a lot going on inside, cultivate an air of mystery and confuse other characters with cryptic one-liners. The Stoic sometimes displays emotion when under extreme stress or in other highly emotional situations, but their usual repertoire consists of mild boredom, detached interest, Dull Surprise or dignified disdain. The Stoics in ancient Greece were philosophers who believed that self-control is the highest virtue, and detachment from strong emotions and passion would give them greater insight in their quest for truth. They also thought that emotional reactions to the inevitable were silly; given that We All Die Someday, what is grieving over death but a judgment that the inevitable was somehow wrong? Stoics would later be criticized for fatalism and apathy.
The Voiceless: A character isn't shown speaking, but might still be capable of speech.
Tranquil Fury: This character can range from happy or stoic, but their anger is more quiet (but still dangerous). What defines this trope is the tendency to become deadly serious when it gets deadly serious.
Examples
In the story "The Six Swans", collected by the Grimm Brothers and Hans Christian Andersen among others, a Fallen Princess must make six shirts out of nettles and can't make a sound for seven years or the spell that transformed her six brothers into swans will never be broken. She manages to keep all of these conditions and gets to break the spell. This is an example of the Elective Mute trope.
Peter in Jumanji, who talks to no one but his older sister Judy ever since their parents' death by car accident. Once Alan gets out of the game and finds his parents are also dead, Peter starts talking to him as well.
Charles Wallace was an Elective Mute trope a child in A Wrinkle in Time. By the time of the later books, he has grown out of it.
Irish Mythology: The battle trance Nuada enters before the first battle of Maige Tuired is sometimes described as a battle fury. However, unlike The Riastrad, the famous "Warp Spasm" of the hero Cu Chulainn, Nuada does not become a berserker, but instead becomes exceptionally calm. This is an example of the Tranquil Fury trope.
Older Than Steam. Shakespeare's Henry V has the eponymous character's Tranquil Fury reaction to the tennis balls.
Dead Poets Society: The shy and insecure Todd Anderson spends most of the film struggling to get out two full sentences and is overlooked by the school and his parents. After his best friend kills himself, the school tries to bully him (and the other boys) into pinning the blame on their favorite teacher — and he leads half the class in an outright rebellion against the headmaster.
Don Vito Corleone from The Godfather is famously very soft-spoken, even hoarse, but an extremely menacing screen presence.
In the original novel The Godfather, both Vito and Michael Corleone were noted as young men for being soft-spoken, understated, and reasonable, especially in contrast to many of their Sicilian immigrant and first-generation compatriots. They go on to become in turn the most feared "Family" heads of their generations, while still rarely raising their voices above a normal speaking tone.
Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs
This is already quite a specific character, and it seems you have a rough idea of your storyline. I don't want to intrude too much on your story, so I compiled tropes and examples in literature as well as other media that are somewhat related to what you described, and you could perhaps incorporate these (& edit as needed/desired) to further flesh out your specific character and plot. Consider which direction you want your story to go; what reactions you want your own character to show once they're thrust into that new environment (Will they continue to be quiet? Will they go the other end of the spectrum? Perhaps somewhere in between? Will they succeed in "adapting" in this new environment?). Do go through the sources for more information and examples. Plus these previous posts that may be useful as well:
On Shyness ⚜ On Mutism ⚜ On Introverts
Word Alternatives: Quiet ⚜ Five-Factor Model of Personality
#tropes#writing ideas#writing tips#writeblr#character development#writing reference#writing notes#literature#writers on tumblr#dark academia#spilled ink#writing prompt#creative writing#light academia#writing inspiration#character building#writing resources
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a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!! I hope that no matter your relationship status you all love and treat yourselves well because you deserve it! I did Lupin the Third and Gang and figured I'd also try my hand at the roster of Jojo characters I write for lol, enjoy~
Reader Asking Various JJBA Characters to Be Their Valentine
Jonathan Joestar
- Instantly flattered, stumbling over his words.
- Jonathan will likely tease you about how it was his job to ask you first..
- However, he will let it slide as long as you let him treat you-
- Treat you to what? Well, a proper Valentine's Day date of course!
- He was going to treat you even before you asked, but now he's definitely got to make the plans and
- It's a gentleman's duty to sweep the object of his affection off their feet, you know!
Robert E. O. Speedwagon
- Speedwagon is rendered speechless.
- Just how in the hell do you manage to be so damn adorable.
- He couldn't say no even if he wanted to, which by no means would he ever turn you down to begin with.
- When he accepts, it's with an abundance of joy that causes him to pick you up and twirl you around effortlessly.
- Speedwagon's mind is reeling over the next steps-
- Where to take you out, what gifts to get you, what flowers you said were your favorite if you had any…
- Speedwagon couldn't wait to spend the special day with you as your special person.
Joseph Joestar
- Well, Duh! That wasn't already a given?
- Besides, even if you didn't ask Joseph–he already assigned himself the role.
- Will definitely rub it in everyone's face
- (especially Caesar if he's in the picture)
- Through all his teasing, Joseph is deep down extremely grateful.
- Joseph feels like the luckiest bastard in the world…
- And he may even tell you that today when you two are alone…
- Expect to spend the entire day with him and him proudly claiming to be “your” Valentine.
Caesar Zeppeli
- Caesar is stunned.
- Much like Jonathan, he feels it's him who should be the one asking you!
- Caesar, of course, accepts your offer full heartedly.
- Somehow, his romanticism goes up by 11, considering it wasn't already there to begin with…
- Of course, he has to seal the romantic union with a kiss-
- Which definitely won’t be the last kiss of the day…
- Caesar has way more where that comes from and more ~
Jotaro Kujo
- Jotaro is speechless…he's never really cared for the holiday…
- He feels you should celebrate your loved ones year around and not just put all your eggs in one basket, so to speak.
- Jotaro doubts you’re being serious…
- But he's known you long enough to see signs of you being nervous and anxious…
- Which you were showing the longer he took to respond properly.
- If it was anyone else, he'd likely ignore them or tell them to leave him alone…
- He quietly accepts as he lowers the brim of his cap over his eyes.
Noriaki Kakyoin
- Huh?
- Kakyoin stumbles with his words, almost pure word vomit.
- W-what does he say? Is just saying yes enough?
- Should he say more? He should probably say more…
- It's okay, his brain is short circuiting from his crush, asking him to be their Valentine.
- After fumbling, he does come out on top and accepts your request…
- Kakyoin can't hide his excitement, though, as he holds your hand, and you're both off to spend the day together.
Jean Pierre Polnareff
- May or may not start tearing up from the sheer overwhelming emotion of love for you.
- Polnareff is so deep in his emotions he may forget to answer the question-
- Although his dramatic response serves as a good reference that his normal answer would be yes.
- Polnareff is quick to sweep you off your feet-princess style as he begins spilling some cheesy romantic lines.
- If you aren't already in a relationship, this is definitely the moment that starts it
- Polnareff will do whatever it takes to be your one and only Valentine for the rest of your life.
Hol Horse
- Hol Horse has been a handful of people's Valentine…
- Yet there was something different when you asked him this year round…
- You and Hol have been friends for awhile, sure you two flirted and had a fun banter going on…
- In fact, Hol almost suspects you of teasing him because of it, if it wasn't for the anxious look on your face.
- He accepts, of course, without any other second thoughts.
- The smile you give him is sweet enough to do him in.
- Yeah, this isn't the first time he's been asked to be someone's Valentine.
- But he can't deny that he hopes he can be yours year round…
Josuke Higashikata
- Josuke has definitely had his fellow classmate or two ask him this.
- While he is flattered, of course, he doesn't really accept anyone…
- This does make you a little nervous to ask yourself, you two were friends, and what if this ruins it?
- When you push through your nerves, Josuke is surprised.
- But only for a minute–
- Of course, he accepts!
- In fact, he's been waiting to see if you'd ask before he had to ask you himself!
- You're annoyed at the shit he gives you–
- But the beaming smiles you give each other is well worth it.
Giorno Giovanna
- Giorno is flattered, so much so he's rendered flustered.
- He never thought he would ever be considered to be someone's Valentine…
- However, if it had to be anyone that asked, he's glad it was you.
- Through his surprise, he does accept your offer–
- You'll likely have to take the lead as to what you two do to celebrate the day and union.
- Giorno has always had feelings for you, but after this, he's come to the full realization.
- He absolutely adores you, and he wants to make sure he's your Valentine every year for years to come.
Bruno Bucciarati
- Bruno tries to shake off the surprise, but he is fairly taken aback.
- He also feels like he should have been the one asking you-
- When he does accept, he admits that he did plan on asking you himself–
- Yet, in the end, he's just content that the feelings were clearly mutual…
- Bruno sets out to treat you and spend the rest of the day with you.
- He may not have got to ask you, but he will make up for it with actions instead…
- Bruno will never hear the end of it from the gang, but he can't care less.
- As long as your hand was in his and your smile was caused by him, Bruno wanted nothing more.
Jolyne Cujoh
- (the fact you're attempting this knowing Anasui could pop up anywhere is honestly pretty daring, you have my respect)
- Jolyne is surprised.
- Granted if it was anyone else, she would likely ignore them, like her father would–
- Yet, she does care about you a lot..
- Plus, Jolyne does think it's pretty sweet thst you asked her out of everyone else…
- Her cheeks are dusted a soft pink, but she does accept.
- There's not too much you two can do locked up-
- But spending the day with one of the few people you care about the most–there's really nothing better than that.
#ri writes#jojo's bizarre adventure x reader#jjba x reader#jonathan joestar x reader#robert e o speedwagon x reader#speedwagon x reader#joseph joestar x reader#caesar zeppeli x reader#jotaro kujo x reader#noriaki kakyoin x reader#jean pierre polnareff x reader#hol horse x reader#josuke higashikata x reader#giorno giovanna x reader#bruno bucciarati x reader#jolyne cujoh x reader
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Hey, could you write some Gaara angst. He and his fiancé fought over something and the argument was that bad where he said things that he shouldn’t have. His fiancé has to leave for a mission the next day,a dangerous one at that. Things go wrong on her mission and she’s now in the hospital and it’s hard to say if she’ll live or not. Gaara is in complete emotional distress and guilt because he feels that it’s his fault that his fiancé might not live.
Have a lovely day!
author's note: I saw "she" in the request, so I am rolling with a fem! reader. It's not a secret I love writing angst, so I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you like it as well! <3 Thank you for requesting!
warnings: none, other than reader can be a little bit annoying in the first half lol
This is not how the evening was supposed to go.
As the last day before your two-week mission, you imagined it as a romantic day, filled with lots of laughter, kisses, and good homemade food, which you had spent all day making.
A screaming match in your fiancé's office was definitely not part of the plan.
"Lower your voice", Gaara sighed, his fingers making their way to rub soothing circles on the side of his forehead. You had stormed into the Kazekage's building about an hour ago, and while your demeanour was progressively getting worse and more aggressive, somehow he had still managed to remain collected.
"Excuse me?", you let out a scoff, marching towards his desk and slamming your hands on top of it, "Don't command me like that! Who do you think you are?"
The words triggered something inside of him and he abruptly stood up, slamming his hands right next to yours and getting right in your face. His eyes, usually calm and inviting, were now cold and dark, showing that there was a storm brewing inside of him.
"I am your fiancé, but most importantly your Kazekage", he gritted his teeth, emphasizing his title, " I know you are upset and I said I am sorry! But your shenanigans stop now!"
Tilting your head, you remained silent and narrowed your eyes, determined not to give up on the little staring contest you had going on. Pressing your lips together, you moved your jaw in annoyance, your breathing heavy with the pent-up frustration.
"Well, guess what, Kazekage?", your words came out almost mocking, while a small sarcastic smirk appeared on your face, "If you tired of dealing with my "shenanigans", maybe you should run and complain to your little friend from the Leaf. I am sure he would be more than happy to hear we are on the verge of breaking up because of him."
"Are you hearing yourself?", Gaara finally raised his voice, moving away from the desk, while running his hand through his red locks, "Break up because of Naruto? You are being absolutely ridiculous, Y/N!"
"I am being ridiculous? This is our last day before my mission and you decide to spend it with Naruto!", you screamed, shaking your hands in the air and making a few steps towards him, "One would've thought that you two are engaged, instead!”
A dry chuckle made its way past his lips and he shook his head, trying to calm his mind. Gods knew he loved you more than life itself but in moments like these he questioned how fate decided to bring you together, considering you were polar opposites.
Gaara was a calm, collected, and reserved individual. He was extremely hard-working and devoted to his nation, so naturally every decision he made was always centered around the well-being of others. He always carefully considered all his options before acting, and rarely resolved to action, if the problem could be resolved peacefully with talks.
You ,on the other hand, were hot-headed, impulsive, and stubborn. Always acting before thinking, you often fail to consider anyone else's needs and wishes in moments like this, too blinded by your selfish desire and feeling of injustice. Unlike the red-headed shinobi, who you described as your "better half", you faced problems head-on, even if that meant you would regret it later.
There has always been some tension between you two, even since you met during your Chunin Exams, but no one believed you would get together, especially after Gaara went through his life-changing phase when he realised the importance of friends and family.
Yet, years later, here you were - a Leaf shinobi who transferred to Suna and was engaged to the Kazekage. Somehow your clashing personalities worked in harmony and you managed to bring the best out of each other.
Well, most of the time...
Today, after he decided to spend the whole day with Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi, thus resulting in him having to work through the evening, was not one of these times.
While the Leaf ninjas were your old comrades, it was not a secret that you did not share a close bond with them, especially with the blonde.
Naruto has openly vocalized his opinion that Gaara is too good for you and he can find a better, calmer half, who would compliment him as a future spouse of the Kazekage. He always made it clear that while he did not exactly hate you, he did not approve of you.
In response, you did not hide your thoughts about their friendship and the fact that your partner was giving him too much credit. Of course, Naruto did have some role in his decision to change for the better, but ultimately it was Gaara who did all the work. Additionally, the blonde was loud, assertive, and loved to poke his nose in other people's business, including your relationship.
"Y/N, enough!", your fiancé's voice boomed, his aura suddenly darker, "Do not talk about my friends like this!"
"Do you keep the same energy when he talks about me?", your brow raised, "When he says how I don't deserve you and tries to fill your head with the craziest ideas about us!"
Gaara let out a puff of air, before turning around and marching towards you. Stopping just a foot away, he lifted his hands towards you, laying them on your shoulder.
"I. Had. Enough!", he hissed each word through his teeth, a sign he was really pissed off at you now, "No one talks about you and no one is trying to fill my head with anything! I don't need anyone to tell me that we are incompatible when I can clearly see that myself!"
The insults and swears that were ready to fall from your mouth got stuck in your throat and your eyes widened for a few seconds, before narrowing again.
"What are you getting at?", this time your voice was quieter, but still with a note of challenge behind it.
Suddenly there was a spark of uncertainty behind his blue eyes. Slowly removing his hands from your body, he walked towards the window with his back facing you.
"I think we need a break. It's just... It's not working anymore", he murmured, gaze focused on the peaceful streets of Suna. He found it easier to say what he was thinking right now if he avoided looking at you.
A minute passed.
Gaara expected you to scream at him, swear at him, or even grab something from his desk and throw it at his head. But when he heard the door of his office opening and slamming shut, he jumped in surprise. Turning around, he found the spot where you were standing just a minute ago, empty, while your diamond ring shined lonely at the edge of his desk.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's strange how distorted a person's time perception becomes once they are eagerly waiting for something.
Two weeks, which usually flew by, given his busy schedule, now felt like an eternal nightmare for the young Kazekage. Eaten by the guilt of how your last conversation ended, he severely punished his mind and body by refusing to eat, drink, or socialize with anyone outside his work. He practically lived in his office and if it wasn't for Kankuro to send him to shower every morning, after working the whole night, he probably would had not set a foot outside.
This morning, however, he refused to do even that. You were supposed to come to report about your mission any moment now and he shifted nervously in his seat, mentally rehearsing the apology he wanted to say to you.
An hour passed.
Then two.
Gaara kept glancing towards the door, yet no one entered, except his secretary who kept dropping piles of paperwork on his desk. He tried to question if any ninjas have showed in the building today, but she kept shaking her head "no" with an apologetic smile on her lips.
Finally, just after noon, a small, barely audible knock reached his ear and he immediately straightened his posture and fixed his hair, before giving his response. His eyes gleamed with anticipation and he stood up, ready to greet you back home.
His, smile, however, quickly dropped once he saw that only one of your teammates, Bumi, entered his office. Covered in scratches across his face and hands, he looked like he had taken some rough beating not long ago. Gaara's blood froze.
If Bumi, the largest and the most skilled ninja in your squad, looked like this, what has happened to you?
"Lord Kazekage", the man greeted, before bowing his head. He made his way towards the desk and placed a tightly wrapped scroll on it, but his gaze remained cast downward.
"The report for our mission."
"Where is Y/N?", the red-headed ninja asked, not even glancing at the document given to him. He had a bad feeling about what was happening and Bumi's lack of eye contact and nervous twitching did not help to ease his worries.
Your teammate looked up, meeting Gaara's intense stare for just a second, before clearing his throat and focusing on his shoes again.
"She...", he stopped, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another, "Um... she is not here at the moment."
"I can see that", the Kazekage pointed out, completely unamused, "Which is why I am asking - where is she?"
Bumi moved uncomfortably again, before letting out a sigh and taking a seat opposite his red-headed leader. His knee kept bouncing and he nervously shifted around his seat, before opening his mouth again:
"The Elders warned me not to tell you... yet."
Gaara's glare hardened and he crossed his fingers on top of his desk. Pressing his lips in a thin line, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising feeling of panic inside of him.
"You answer to me, not the Elders", he almost growled, his eyes not moving away from your teammate. His jaw tensed and that was enough of a sign for Bumi to spill out what was on his mind
"She is in the hospital", he blurted out and Gaara's breath hitched. His fingers started to tremble and he quickly placed them on his knees below his desk, a poor attempt to cover the shock that hit him when he heard the other male's words.
'Maybe it is just a check-up', he tried to reason in his head, 'maybe it is nothing too serious.'
Almost like he read his thoughts, Bumi decided to continue:
"It all happened so fast", he looked down, mentally reliving what happened just this morning, "We were on our way back when we were ambushed. Y/N... She has been acting weird the whole mission. She kept missing her shots and her reactions were slower than normal... I don't know what happened, but it was almost like she was not herself."
Cold sweat started forming on Gaara's temples and he felt his heart speeding inside his ribcage. He felt like he wanted to jump out of his seat and run to the hospital, but it was almost like his body was disconnected from his brain and it chose to stay frozen in place.
"So when this ninja swung his katana towards her stomach, it was too late for her to block it or move away...", Bumi gulped, his eyes now glossy, "The doctors said the cut was so deep, it damaged some of her insides too. And by the time we arrived, she also lost a ton of blood. They... They are not sure if she can make it."
Gaara always considered himself a man who knew what pain was. He has endured so much during his childhood, that he always thought nothing could hurt him anymore.
But the way his whole soul shattered the second he heard you may not make it, was a whole new type of pain. One that pointed its ugly finger to his face, screaming "It is all your fault!", while simultaneously creating feelings of rage and bloodthirst... feelings that stayed buried deep inside of him for years.
"Which village?", was all he said, his blue eyes now empty and staring at the blank wall at the opposite end of his office.
Bumi gulped, standing from his seat. The look on Gaara's face... He has not seen that look since their Chunin days. He was about to sneakily exit the office when the Kazekage's cold gaze fixated him on the spot.
"They had Leaf headbands...", he mumbled, before quickly adding, "But they could've gotten them from anywhere. I don't believe our allies-"
His words were interrupted by the Kazekage's hand which lifted in the air, cutting him mid-sentence. Getting up from his chair, he grabbed his hat, before walking past Bumi towards the door. Thousand different thoughts and ideas were racing through his brain about how he should deal with the situation, but they ultimately led to his need to see you straight away.
The last words he said to you kept echoing in his mind and he felt like throwing up. If he had shown up for your scheduled date night, if he had kept his tongue behind his teeth, if he had shown up at the gates the morning before you left... maybe you would be here, with him, instead of fighting for your life.
He knew he had to get to you, to be with you and somehow beg you to stay with him. But before that, he had one final request to make:
"Gather the Elders and the War Council", he instructed Bumi, while making his way past him, "Our alliance with the Leaf is over."
cc artwork: concept art for "Assassin's Creed: Mirage"
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Taylor Hernàndez Headcanon time!! With a little Aiden Hc at the end :D
Homework? Nah. Writing headcanons that take me 2+ hours to formulate? Ya.
ANYWAYS. Everyone always sees her as this super adorable and sweet gal (which she ABSOLUTELY IS. 1000% hufflepuff energy through and through, absolute sweetheart, and that shit is GENUINE. Like she genuinely loves and cares for people she’s never even met, and always assumes the best of everyone.)
what people DONT realize is that she and Tyler have been taking like Boxing or Jiu Jitsu together since they were 6, and she’s like. Wonder Woman levels of buff. In the past few years she’s also taken up weightlifting, and gotten hella strong. Like to the point she can fireman carry Ben (while RUNNING) , and fully just like. Bench Logan. (The first time she did it his nose almost started bleeding. He sat in shocked silence for like 15 minutes while Aiden cackled something to her along the lines of “I think you broke him” the ENTIRE time)
there’s also a pic of her with the group (in the gc, on the Idiots wall and in Aiden’s photo album) that Aiden took a selfie of where she’s carrying Ben piggy back style, and Logan and Ashlyn are hanging off of both of her arms with their legs off the ground. Tyler is in the background pinching the bridge of his nose like “how did I end up being friends with all of the idiots”.
also she is incredibly talented at engineering. In her head she can 360 and fully take apart different components of machines and problem solve from there. Like there was one time during an automotive clinic where they were going through different symptoms of system failures, the teacher made a mistake that she tried to ask a question on, to which he was kind of rude and dismissive of. He ended up being a total 💩 and talking down to her, which was preceded by her absolutely roasting his ass in front of a bunch of people by not only correcting his answers, but also quoting their sources from manufacturers manuals that (somehow??????) she managed to get her hands on.
She was 12 and in a college level auto class.
After that, all the kids would ask her questions on things they didn’t know before they would ask the teacher. Tyler was BEYOND proud.
To add on a grittier and deeper level:
she knows she has the capability to manipulate people (because her emotional intelligence is OFF THE CHARTS and she knows how someone will react in any given situation) but she very consciously makes the choice not to unless it is a life or death situation, or a very VERY important one.
She’s very aware (read: TOO aware) of how she appears to people and how she responds and talks to them. She’s very careful to keep their image of her as harmless in order to seem more approachable. She is very calculating, but no one would know because they don’t think to look deeper into her as a person. It’s interesting because one of the things she’s really good at (if she wants to be) is talking around an answer. There are quite a few people who if they really stopped to think on what they know about her, the only thing they could come up with would be a physical description, the knowledge that she has a brother, and that she likes cars. That’s it.
People also tend to like the easily digestible superficiality of her personality, which she knows and does on purpose. There’s some very complicated stuff that has gone down, and she’s an extremely private person who doesn’t want to talk about it. It’s a little scary sometimes too because it’s very easy to underestimate her, but if it came down to it she would know all of your weaknesses and you would know pretty much none of hers.
Something her friends and her brother started to notice after the first month in the phantom dimension is that she does a LOTTTTT of masking. By herself, she’s pretty quiet. She’s also not shy exactly, but not the most outgoing, either. However, to keep her brother in check and her mum from spiraling, she takes on a very optimistic and kind caregiver persona to help them. Like stated before, that’s all genuine care and love, but she also really leans into it in order to make sure she’s doing as much as possible to care for her family.
The reason her friends start to see this is that with the 7 extra hours added to their body clocks she gets tired a lot more quickly, and she and fatigue do not mix well. Usually she is able to recharge to some extent (when her brother is at baseball practice or while her mom is at work or with their grandma) in the quiet or by working or cleaning parts, but with both her and her brother not having enough energy for activities that balance has been skewed a bit, which results in her being a little more grouchy or snappy than usual, and also overstimulated (and simultaneously understimulated). You would not notice any change if you didn’t know her, but she and her friends do.
(Surprisingly ((or not so surprisingly))), Aiden is the first one to notice this, and offers for her to come over and fix a dirt bike he messed up a couple years ago, knowing full well she wouldn’t trust him within 6 feet of any tool or machine she cared to keep intact. What ends up happening is she will go over there after a really long and draining day to work on it, and he will go away to work on homework in the room attached to the garage while she gets some quiet time alone. A beanbag corner has also (very mysteriously) been added to a corner of the garage out of the main line of eyesight of everyone else, but it has a really good view of what’s going on, so sometimes she will curl up there and nap. Said corner also has a mini fridge that’s always chock full of juice boxes and food.
While only a few people are aware of the corner’s existence, it is a Very Established Rule that it is Taylor’s Corner, and you are not to go over there while she is in it unless invited or called.
A note on Aiden: When he realized how many of his friends were more on the introvert side, he started designating other corners of his house as ‘Quiet Corners’, such as the weird “closet”space just off of the living room, and the spare bedroom next to Ben and Aiden’s room.
Those corners are actually some of Ash, Taylor, and Logan’s saving graces. Said corners serve slightly different purposes- the one just off the living room having a space away from the others where they can still be heard, or the one upstairs that’s a lot more quiet. Both have a cooler for snacks and juice, and comfy pillows to sprawl out on.
while there’s a TON I could add to this even now, I think I’m maxing out Tumblr’s draft save feature 😂 so yeah.. I hope you guys enjoyed this!
Taylor Hernández and Aiden Clark everyone!
#School bus graveyard#school bus graveyard headcanons#Taylor Hernàndez#Aiden clark#Sbg#sbg squad#sbg headcanons#Taylor is basically a child of Aphrodite#Aiden is a platonic sugar daddy for everyone in the group#Taylor Hernández lore#SBG lore drop
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SUMMARY: Somehow Giyuu's son has disappeared somewhere - chaos ensues because there's no way he's telling you he lost your child. A/N: I'm back and I'm beaming another Giyuu fic is in town! (<<anyone who catches the song reference wins a free request of anything they want to see Domestic!Giyuu and Co doing). I really enjoyed writing Zenitsu this way because he's just so 怪叔叔 coded (for non-Chinese, 怪叔叔 roughly translates to "weird uncle" but there's not really a word for it in English, so basically a creepy relative) WARNINGS: um, too many references to other anime if you catch them (name them all to get a free scenario) SUNNY'S TAGLIST: (comment if you wanna be added or removed) @abadonkori @therabbitthatpostthings @ezekieleen @giyuusluht @bisforbuse MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS
There were about three times that Giyuu can recall directly lying to your face.
The first time was when you were still pregnant with Koji and got hit by cravings in the middle of the night. Your emotions had been skyrocketing, leaving you a sulky mess when Giyuu tried to reason with you that 3 a.m. really wasn't the time to eat daifuku. It was unhealthy, he said, perfectly poker-faced. It could not, you reasoned, be because he ate them all. It could not because you had (quite fiercely) told him not to eat it and Giyuu didn't even like that particular flavour of daifuku anyway. He didn't, which was why he stopped eating about halfway through…leaving about one or two for you.
So far you hadn't found that out. Don't worry, Giyuu still feels bad for gaslighting you into thinking there were only originally two left. Definitely not six.
The second time was about the seriousness of his injuries after a tougher than usual mission before you two married. Actually it should be more of a collection of little white lies, because Giyuu never wanted to worry you and did his best to play down his injuries every time. But this time he nearly had his legs sliced off and was suffering several more crushed bones - not something he could easily hide from you, so it was a little extreme but he wrote you a letter telling you not to come because the Demon's Blood Art was infectious.
So far you hadn't found that out either. Neither did Kocho, but he almost regretted it from her million “My, my, Tomioka, it seems like everybody's avoiding you lately” though he later found out it was because you genuinely believed him and told everybody.
And the third time was today. Funny enough the lie he felt the worst about. Felt so bad he nearly chickened out and made Tanjiro tell you…if he hadn't remembered the boy couldn't tell a lie to save his life.
It was just eight words. Eight words.
“Where's Koji by the way?”
“…he's outside playing with Tanjiro and his friends.”
Eight words that made Giyuu want to bang his head against a wall and meekly apologize to you for all eternity.
Because somehow he had managed to lose his only son.
He was going to lose his ability to remain poker-faced soon as you beamed brightly at him. “That sounds fun! But I thought you all were training?”
“We took a break.” Giyuu squeezed your hand and leant down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You're supposed to be asleep anyway. Get well soon.”
“Mhm. I'm not that tired.” You roll your eyes. “Can you bring in Koji later?”
“…sure…”
He hoped he didn't look too obvious.
***
Perhaps a little backtracking would be helpful. You had recently received severe blood loss from the last mission you were sent on that landed you a stay at the Butterfly Mansion. It wasn't too bad as you got to spend a little more time with Giyuu and your new baby boy but finally Shinobu had shooed (for such a short woman she could really push people around with great force…) them both out citing you needed rest “without you making goo-goo eyes at her all the time, Tomioka. You must be such a bad influence on your child.”
To which he responded by blankly staring at her. “I don't think I'm a bad influence…”
“If you'd like to think so, Tomioka. Now scram.”
At any rate he had brought Koji out with him to training with the Kamaboko Squad as they were known. He had left the baby on a blanket on the engawa with various toys littered around to keep his attention occupied; Koji hadn't quite mastered the art of walking yet, so Giyuu was reasonably confident he would be alright, evidenced by the quick checks Giyuu would take in between swinging a sword with the boys.
Swinging a sword, honestly, would be lying as well. Giyuu couldn't fault them for wanting to play with Koji - even though for whatever reason Inosuke kept trying to give him acorns and called him every other variation of his name…ranging from “Genji”, “Koto” and “Muji”.
(The closest he got was calling him Toji, but Giyuu was still confused as to why he also added a “Fushiguro” at the end…)
“Look! The tiny Ban Ban Haori took my gift, Gonpachiro! AHAHAHAHA, YOU CAN BE MY MINION, DENJI!”
Giyuu yanked the grass blades and said acorn away from Koji’s drooling mouth. “You're not supposed to be feeding him that…spit it out, Koji, no, don't swallow!”
Not that Inosuke was listening. He was dumping even more acorns onto the ground, in fact. Thankfully Giyuu's mini-me was fancying chewing on his dad's finger a little more.
The yellow haired one wasn't much better. Zenitsu kept trying to befriend Koji…who did not want to befriend him. Whether it was because of Zenitsu’s expressions or questionable decibel volume or him calling himself “Uncle Zenitsu”, no matter how many times said slayer fawned over the baby or tried to play with him Koji’s lip would quiver, his eyes would tear up and inevitably the wailing would start.
So obviously Giyuu solved the problem by “politely” telling Zenitsu to go away.
(Later on you wouldn't understand why Zenitsu kept glowering at your husband; Giyuu would defend himself, deadpan as he said Koji did not like him therefore he should get out of his sight.)
At least someone in the group has a brain cell and experience with little kids. Of them all Giyuu trusted Tanjiro the most with his child. Koji seemed to adore the red haired boy, wanting to burrow into his lap all the time and curiously tugging at his hanafuda earrings. Hardly surprising, seeing as Tanjiro was more than happy to indulge in his uppies and not attempt to throw him in the air like Inosuke or poke him a little too harder like Zenitsu. He even put on a little puppet show for him with the scattered plushies.
Koji seemed to adore Tanjiro a little too much, actually. Giyuu decided to make them all go back to training after Koji rejected his hold for Tanjiro’s uppies.
But they ended up spending more time getting distracted over petty arguments rather than training.
The boar-head was cackling in that weird maniacal way of his. “Manjiro and Monitsu will never ever land a hit on me!!! I'm the King of the Mountains, no one will ever best me!”
Giyuu closed his eyes and sighed quietly before smacking the wooden sword upside on Inosuke's head. But-
“HUH? WHAT'D YOU SAY ABOUT ME?! IT'S NOT FAIR, YOU KNOW, YOU'RE USING TWO SWORDS! I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU UP-”
“Inosuke, again, my name is Tanjiro-”
“WHAT, TSUKISHIRO?!”
“COME HERE! I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR BUTT!”
“Zenitsu! Stop trying to eat Inosuke's head!”
“BWAHAHA! HE COULD NEVER! THE TINY ONE BITES HARDER THAN HIM!”
Too late. Sigh again.
“You're not even one yet and you're the sanest here, it seems.” Giyuu retreated to let them fight it out (it was the third time already), seating himself next to Koji, who cooed and tried to crawl onto his lap, dropping his plushy.
“Why did I even agree to this again?” Probably because Tanjiro asked - he really was going soft.
“Bleh.”
Giyuu nodded. “You get it.”
***
Tanjiro just about jumped Giyuu when he exited the room you were in, closing the door with a twitching eye (he really can’t believe he managed to lie to you), more than ready to help his friend and mentor track down the missing child by making Giyuu go over everything again and again. “So are you SURE that was the last time you saw Koji then?”
“AHAHAHAH! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU MANAGED TO LOSE YOUR SPAWN!” The laughter dies down as it fully hits Inosuke. “…wait, you lost Ojiro?”
“OH NO! TOMIOKA’S GOING TO GET MURDERED BY HIS WIFE!”
“I-” Giyuu short circuited. “You’re right, Agatsuma. (y/n)’s going to have my head on a platter.
“HOW CAN YOU BE SUCH A-”
“Calm down, everyone! Koji couldn’t have gotten far, he can’t walk without stumbling and he crawls most of the time, right? And since we already checked outside Koji must be inside the Butterfly Mansion!” Tanjiro patted Giyuu’s shoulder. “We’ll find him, Giyuu-san!”
“I BET I’LL BE THE FIRST TO FIND HIM!” Inosuke hollered before…leaping onto the wall and scuttling off down the hallway. “YOU’RE ALL LOSERS TO THE KING OF THE MOUNTAINS! I SHALL FIND MY MINION!”
At this point Giyuu couldn’t even be surprised. “I’m more worried about if he’s fallen down or hiding somewhere or got stuck some place or something worse.”
“It’s alright! We can ask Ms. Aoi and the Butterfly Girls to help or if they’ve seen Koji!”
“There’s no way he could’ve run off by himself anyway.”
***
“No, sorry, I don’t think any baby came into the kitchen, Tomioka-san.”
Giyuu’s shoulder slumped. “I see.”
“I’m sure you’ll find him soon, Tomioka-san, Tanjiro, Zenitsu!” The three girls that were always around piped up. “We’ll keep an eye out for him though!”
“Aw, that’s so cute of you guys!”
Giyuu let Zenitsu bask in the three girl’s praises for being so kind to help the Water Pillar look for his son and turned back to Tanjiro and Aoi, who was tapping a spoon against the table thoughtfully. “There’re lots of rooms where he could’ve hidden. Have you checked?”
“Yeah, we have, but there’s no sign of him anywhere,” Tanjiro sheepishly answered.
“How did he even disappear?”
He didn’t know it but the despairing look on his face was rather pitiful. “I don’t know. I turned around to check on him and he just wasn’t there.”
“You didn’t hear him crawl off?”
“No.”
Tanjiro suddenly interrupted. “Oh hey, Aoi! Are you making mochi now?”
“Um…yes?”
“Giyuu-san! Didn’t you say Koji likes the smell of them? Maybe he’ll come out if he smells some!”
“What kinda idea is that?” Zenitsu scoffed, before remembering every other method had failed. He deflated. “Alright, it might work.”
The girls oohed and aahed. “We’ll help!”
“That’s actually a good idea, Tanjiro. You can have some, here, and good luck! I hope you guys find him!”
Privately Giyuu thought they were treating Koji like he was a dog and not actually, you know, a human BABY perhaps…but if it worked, it worked, so he let himself be roped into the plan.
***
It did not work.
Despite the odds at this point Giyuu was convinced a demon had kidnapped his baby. Every room in the house had been investigated. All of them had literally gotten on their hands and feet, calling out and cooing out Koji’s name. Inosuke had even dropped down from the ceiling to give them all a heart attack and announce that he could not sense “Tiny Todoroki” anywhere.
Giyuu was ready to pull out his ponytail. Where on earth could his son possibly even go? Kocho’s Estate wasn’t even that large! He hadn’t even heard so much as baby babble or Koji’s crying. In fact it might be the Kamaboko Squad who would be crying if Kocho ever discovered the mess they made turning everything inside out and upside down trying to figure out where a baby could’ve crawled off into and potentially gotten stuck in. What on earth had he done to deserve this horrible state of affairs?
What had he done to Koji that would make the baby want to vanish into thin air?
Well, whatever it was, he was terribly apologetic about it.
He didn’t know it but his head was hung in repentance as Giyuu approached the door to your room. The Kamaboko Squad and the three Butterfly Girls were behind him in awkward, contrite silence. It takes a village to raise a child, maybe, but apparently it takes waaay beyond a village to FIND a child. Giyuu felt a little bad they all got stuck trying to fix his mistake, so if any backlash happened from your end - though he doubted it - he’d do his best to take the most of it.
“It’s not really your fault Koji ran off, Giyuu-san,” Tanjiro tried to say reassuringly.
“It absolutely is. I should’ve checked on him more,” Giyuu replied gloomily and on that depressing note he entered you room.
“Yuu!” You tossed aside your book and reached out your arms. He obliged, even in the painful angle he had to sit in to lie his head against your chest, but you stroking his hair was enough to make up for it. “I’m so bored here, can’t you convince Shinobu I’m fine already?”
“You nearly fell down the stairs when you felt dizzy yesterday-”
“No, I nearly fell down because the floor was wet! I’m fine, I swear!” You huff and fell back against the pillows, scratching away at Giyuu’s scalp. “Anyways, where’s Koji? I wanna see my baby.”
“Our baby.”
“Right, sorry, Yuu. Where is he?”
Darn. Giyuu had hoped you would be distracted a little longer - for something, anything, maybe a miracle to happen - before he would have to reveal the truth to you.
He groaned loudly and face planted into your blanket-covered stomach. “(y/n), lovely, please don’t be mad at me. I did my best to-”
“Try and give Koji a bath but he did such a terrible job, (y/n) dear, that I had to take over.”
Alright, Giyuu knows he was praying for something to save him, but of all things - KOCHO?!
The Insect Pillar’s smile widened viciously at the sight of Giyuu’s shocked face as she glided to your bedside, mirroring those of the Kamaboko Squad and Butterfly Girls’ outside. A freshly showered Koji, with his puffy baby hair stuck to his forehead from water, giggled in Shinobu’s arms, kicking and squealing.
“Hi, baby! Did you miss mama? Mama missed you, y’know, mhm, I know.” You took Koji into your own hold, blowing raspberries onto his stomach. “Did Yuu do a good job of taking care of you? I think so too, heh.”
I think not, Shinobu’s eyes wickedly gleamed.
I think not too…Giyuu blinked back. While you were distracted he quickly got to his feet and crossed over to the other side to pull Shinobu aside.
“Thank you.”
“That, Tomioka, was the stiffest thanks anyone has ever given me.” Shinobu covered her chuckles with an airy hand. “No need, but try not to make me cover for you again or lose your son?”
“I - I will, but where did you even find him?”
“Well, well, Tomioka, I thought you all were done for training and went outside, but instead I found him crawling off the engawa and rolling in the mud, so I had to bring him in and give him a bath. Then I saw you all running around trying to find him and figured it must’ve looked like he just disappeared to you all when he was playing in the puddle.”
Giyuu glanced back at you and Koji and quietly vowed to never lose any of you, no matter the circumstances, whether it be to demons or simply because you had wandered off due to boredom. If missing you both for just a few hours had done such a number on him, he never wanted to find out what happens if…
“…I guess I owe you one now, Kocho,” Giyuu acknowledged.
“You can start by cleaning up the mess you made of my house, Tomioka.”
***
BONUS:
You actually nearly found out about Koji’s brief disappearance earlier when a boar leapt down from the ceiling and nearly gave you a heart attack.
“AHAHAHAHA! THE KING OF THE MOUNTAINS IS BACK!”
Instinctively you jolted back and almost screamed loud enough to wake the dead if you hadn’t recognized the intruder. “Inosuke?! What - what are you - what were you doing up there?!”
The boy in question grunted, head swiveling around. “…this isn’t the right room.”
“What? What right room?”
“Gotta go, gotta look for Toru Oikawa!”
“Who?!”
#giyuu x reader#giyuu x y/n#giyuu x you#giyuu tomioka x reader#giyuu tomioka x y/n#kny x reader#giyuu x reader fluff#Sunny's Works#giyuu tomioka x you
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all our love 💌 ot13 x reader.

A quick assembly of some things I now realize, thanks to thirteen boys who call each other family—and have somehow made space for me in that orbit; my bd special:
✦ › comfort, mutual devotion, extremely mild angst only if you squint, “i’m sorry i couldn’t do more,” but this is everything i have. a headcanon, notes and letter sort (???) from carat, me to svt (and back). inspired by All My Love by SEVENTEEN.
A/N: i’ve always wanted to flip my interpretation of aml and write a storyline/plot from both perspectives. i didn’t quite manage that but maybe one day, there’ll be an ot13 fic that does. prompt courtesy of myself… and the tears i shed at 2am. this timeline kinda follows my own personal timeline of knowing them, loving them, staying with them. this format is new for me. the emoji dividers were lovingly stolen [10000% inspired/copied; they were ia when I texted but ily, love/ I got permission] from kae @studioeisa , who inspires in ways they probably don’t know. the note/journal style might be theirs too 😭 but it's definitely from somewhere bc it's a picture inside my brain. i’m pretending it’s an homage. also, thanks to J @cheers-to-you-th for dropping the most reflective title of my idea and this post. Mutual. Soft. Full-circle. thanks to @trustmypoison for the paragraph format instead suggestion!
i dislocated my foot and highly terrorized a few veins in the process, which meant this wasn’t written under ideal circumstances. had no tab or laptop while visiting my mother’s hometown, so this was made entirely on my phone. rewritten and reformatted three times, minimum (again and again) because apparently i like pain. anyway. hbd to me. i made this with all the love i have left.
April 08, 2025 at 17:13
I realize that love doesn’t always shout. That sometimes it sounds like "Did you eat?" or "Text me when you get home."
I realize that absence doesn’t make you less part of something beautiful.
I realize that some people are a home, even if you haven’t seen them in weeks.
That honesty is love.
That patience is love.
That waiting is love.
That respect is love.
That friendship can be louder than romance. Softer, too—but not lesser.
That some goodbyes are temporary, even if they don't feel like it.
That it’s okay to miss versions of people that don’t exist anymore.
That you can outgrow places but still carry the people in your pockets.
That care doesn’t have to be earned. It’s a currency you give freely.
And that it’s not always about the people you find, but the ones who find you first and stay.
October 01, 2024 at 14:30
Starting to Love Them
You were just another fan at first, but as you listened to their songs, you began to see not just their talent, but the raw emotions and passion they put into everything.
You saw the vulnerability in their eyes, the dedication in their voices, and you couldn’t help but fall in love with them. Their love felt real, even through the screen.
This is where the connection starts. The realization that they are human, just like us. Their smiles, their voices, their personalities — they made you feel understood.
October 05, 2024 at 22:04
Loving Them
As time passed, your love for them grew deeper. It wasn’t just their music anymore. It was about how they made you feel — seen, heard, and appreciated.
Every word, every lyric, every note felt like it was meant for you, for us. They’ve been there for you, comforting you when you felt like no one else would, filling your heart with warmth when you were cold.
You want to thank them, for everything they've done, for all the times they’ve been the source of your strength. But no matter how many times you say "thank you," it never feels enough.
December 13, 2024 at 15:01
Apologizing to Them
But then, as you hear their words in All My Love, you realize something: they feel like they’re not doing enough for you, for Carats.
They feel like they’re only giving you a small amount of love, but we, as fans, feel the same way.
We wish we could do more for them. We wish we could reach through the screen, wrap them in our arms, and tell them that they are enough. That their love has changed our lives. That their songs have healed us in ways they may never fully know.
“We’re sorry too,” you would say.
Sorry that we can’t be there for them every time they need us, sorry that we can’t always protect them from the hurt they feel. But we love them deeply, and we will always support them, just as they’ve done for us.
December 14, 2024 at 03:17
The Love Between Us
The beauty of this connection — this bond between idols and fans — is that it’s unconditional.
They may feel helpless when they see us struggle, but we are the ones who should be grateful.
Their love and care for us go beyond what we could ask for.
Every lyric, every smile, every performance is a testament to the fact that they give all of themselves, even when they think it’s not enough.
And we, as fans, feel the same way — even when we feel like we can’t do enough for them, we love them with everything we have.
Just like All My Love says, "it's alright, it's okay." Their love is more than enough, and we are here to remind them of that, always.
December 29, 2024 at 04:58
do/watch together before 2025:
◯ Jeonghan in one million won [AHHHHRDRCTCYFRYR]
⬤ “I know how the mafia thinks”
◯ INSIDE SEVENTEEN 'in-complete' dance practice behind #2 [Svt being no. dino fanboy, verify.]
◯ Kyeom’s very serious acting in that coin ep
⬤ check in on Hoshi’s tiger agenda
◯ rewatch Kidult stage [mandatory group crying?]
⬤ ask Cheol if he finished shooting cook scoups — weverse
⬤ ask Dino what song he’s dancing to lately — weverse
February 14, 2025 at 01:13
Bias wrecking:
Cheol - ✓✓ [he was too sexy, but then went back to being cute]
Joshua - ✓✓✓✓✓ [surprised?]
Mingyu - ✓✓✓ [blame svt for making him so reliable and turning me on]
Kwan - ✓✓ [yeah]
Everyone else - somewhere between “I was on my way to wreak” and “you're just avoiding”
March 05, 2025 at 20:05
Sappy shit (unedited):
Sometimes I think about telling them what I feel.
About how I carry them in everything I do.
How I measure time by memories we made.
How they’ve changed the shape of what I thought love was supposed to look like, and I remember: maybe I don’t have to say anything at all.
Maybe they already know.
April 08, 2025 at 00:00
Romantic? Love?
It’s not always romantic.
But it’s always love.
To SEVENTEEN,
I never expected to feel so connected to a group of people I’d never met, but somehow, from the very first time I heard their voices, their music reached into my soul. It wasn’t just the songs anymore — it was them. I fell in love with them, not just as idols, but as real people, struggling, striving, and living just like us.
But then I realized, they’re apologizing to us, as if their love isn’t enough. And it hit me: I feel the same way. I wish I could do more for them, I wish I could protect them from all the pain and exhaustion they must feel. I wish I could take their burdens away. But I can’t. All I can do is send them love, support, and gratitude. So, I want to say: I’m sorry too. Sorry that I can’t always be there when they need me, but I’ll always be here for them, cheering them on, loving them.
And to them, I want to say: Your love is more than enough. You don’t have to apologize. You’ve already saved so many lives with your music, your presence and just by being yourself. Your love is overflowing, and it reaches farther than you could ever imagine. You’ve made a difference in my life, and I know you’ve done the same for so many others.
Thank you for everything. And it’s alright, it’s okay. We’ll always be here, just like you’ve always been here for us.
- Celeste <3
—★
“i think of you when the sky looks like a peach
— and i think of you when the world feels heavy
i hold you quietly, and i hope you know
— we feel that, too”
#svthub#mansaenetwork#seventeen x reader#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x carat#seventeen carat#seventeen scenarios#svt scenarios#svt headcanons#seventeen headcanons#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seventeen angst#svt angst#svt x reader#scoups seventeen#jeonghan seventeen#joshua seventeen#jun seventeen#hoshi seventeen#wonwoo seventeen#woozi seventeen#dk seventeen#mingyu seventeen#minghao seventeen#seungkwan seventeen#vernon seventeen#dino seventeen#★— mylovesstuffs twenty twenty five#★— mylovesstuffs
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My Chosen Family is My Forever Family
Doohan Sister Reader F1 Driver Reader Cadillac Formula 1 Reader
Yes this has two titles, I couldn't pick one cause both are perfect. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter as I thought it was time for a break from most of the extremely heavy angst style writing and topics. Story Y/n needs a break too right? So enjoy this extra sweet fluffy chapter! (Also I know I said in the update that none of the romance will be described to be a specific driver - but some driver interactions may seem romantic within specific chapters - if its not the driver you want y/n to fall for then pretend the interaction is in a more platonic light than potentially romantic one)
I had fully expected the first week of my mandatory break to be soul-crushingly boring. And not just the kind of “bored scrolling on your phone in bed” boring—no, this was a special kind of frustration. The kind that claws at your skin and makes your chest ache because you know there’s work to be done, training to be completed, sim sessions to suffer through, and races to be run… but you’re stuck. Grounded. Benched.
The doctors told me I’d only miss one race this season, which—on paper—should have brought me some peace. But it didn’t. Because every second I wasn’t behind a wheel felt like I was being peeled away from everything I loved. I couldn’t even enjoy the distractions I normally turned to in moments like this. Reading was hard with my dominant arm injured, playing any of my instruments or sim work was out of the question, and even cooking—something I did just to feel normal—was off the table unless I wanted to risk re-tearing the stitches, popping my shoulder back out before the tendons have healed back over it, or even just put too much stress on the forearm fracture.
I hated it.
I hated relying on others. I hated how slow everything suddenly felt, like the world had pressed pause for me and only me, while everyone else got to keep going. I hated the silence of my apartment. The empty hours. The ache that wasn't just physical but emotional—rooted in the idea that I wasn't useful, wasn’t doing anything. That somehow, this forced pause was proof I wasn’t strong enough to keep up.
And so, when I sent a simple message to the group chat I had with the boys—just something like “If anyone’s around this week, I could use a hand, I guess…”—I didn’t expect anything to really come from it. I’d barely hit send before the notifications started flooding in.
Within an hour, they’d sent me a color-coded schedule. One of them would be with me every day—just to hang out, help when needed, or keep me company. And if by some miracle none of them were available, Nico, my ever-patient manager, would step in for the day.
At first, I dreaded it. I assumed they’d hover, fuss, and treat me like I was made of glass. I thought being babied would make everything feel worse—like I was confirming all the fears that I’d become too fragile to be the version of myself I’d worked so hard to be.
But they surprised me.
They didn’t force help on me. They didn’t smother me in pity. Instead, they came over like it was just another afternoon, acting like nothing had changed unless I asked them to. And somehow, that was what I needed more than anything. It didn’t feel like they were coming to take care of me—it felt like they just wanted to be with me.
And in those moments, I didn’t feel broken anymore.
Each of them brought something different to the table—something comforting, something uniquely them. Little acts of care that didn’t feel overwhelming or patronizing, but thoughtful, effortless, and real.
I didn’t expect to enjoy any of it. But I did.
And now, thinking back on each day of this first week, I can’t help but smile. Because each of the boys gave me a piece of myself back without even realizing it.
Charles was the first one, naturally. He had insisted, texting the group chat three times the night before to make sure no one else would try to swap with him. “I’m going first. Non-negotiable.” It made me laugh more than I had in days, and honestly, knowing it would be him kind of made everything feel… easier. Charles had a calm about him—gentle, warm, grounding. Like a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding until you let it out.
He showed up right on time, two coffees in hand and a paper bag from my favorite bakery tucked under one arm. “For the champion in recovery,” he said with a soft smile, leaning in to kiss the top of my head before I could even mutter a sarcastic thank you.
From the start, the day felt weirdly domestic in a way that both comforted and unnerved me. Charles moved through my apartment like he’d lived here his whole life—kicking off his shoes by the door, putting the pastries on a plate instead of leaving them in the bag, and checking in on me constantly with soft touches and even softer words.
“Need anything? A pillow? Blanket? Another croissant?”
At some point, I was seated on the couch, cradling the warm mug between my legs while he shuffled through my bathroom cabinet in search of my brush.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” I called, already dreading the answer.
“I know,” he answered simply. “That’s why I’m doing it.”
I heard him walking back before I saw him—his footsteps light but purposeful. When he rounded the corner, brush in hand and a scrunchie looped around his fingers, I gave him my best unimpressed glare.
“You’ve planned this.”
“I might have practiced,” he admitted, crouching beside the couch with a playful grin. “Carlos has long hair too, you know.”
“You practiced brushing Carlos’ hair?”
He winked. “That’s not important.”
I rolled my eyes but turned around, letting him settle onto the couch behind me. My injured arm stayed close to my chest, and I winced slightly trying to shift, but Charles noticed instantly. His hand came to my good shoulder with a tenderness that stole the air from my lungs.
“Relax,” he murmured, voice low and smooth. “I’ve got you.”
And he did.
His fingers threaded into my hair, separating gentle sections before beginning to brush. His touch was delicate, each stroke deliberate and slow, like he was afraid of hurting me or pulling too hard. The brush moved through the tangles patiently, occasionally catching on a stubborn knot, but Charles never tugged. Instead, he used his fingers to work them out, fingertips grazing my scalp just enough to make my eyes flutter shut.
“Feels nice, hmm?” he teased quietly, clearly noticing how still I had gone, how I was just breathing and existing beneath his touch.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because it felt too nice. Too comforting. Too intimate.
And then he laughed—soft and warm, the kind of laugh that made you want to curl up inside it.
“You’re going to fall asleep,” he said. “Then I’ll have to carry you to bed, and you know I’ll complain the whole time about my back.” I turned just enough to shoot him a crooked smirk. “You act like I don’t know you’d gladly carry me anywhere.”
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything. The air between us settled—quiet, safe.
He finished brushing with a final little tug and then gently pulled my hair back into a low ponytail, securing it with the scrunchie. His fingers lingered just a second too long against the back of my neck, and I swear I felt the warmth of his breath before he leaned back. “There,” he said softly. “Perfect.”
Later, while I was napping with my legs stretched across his lap and his hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on my shin, I realized something.
He never once treated me like I was broken. Not even for a second. He just made sure I didn’t have to do it all alone. And that meant more than I could ever put into words.
The second morning of recovery started a little differently.
I didn’t wake up to pain, or to the dull frustration of being limited by my injuries. No. I woke up to the faint clatter of pans and the unmistakable scent of something warm and buttery drifting in from the kitchen. My brow furrowed as I blinked awake, arm still tucked securely in its sling, a blanket half-hanging off the bed. It took me a few seconds to remember that no—I hadn’t left the stove on. I hadn’t even cooked in days. I mean, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
Oscar.
Of course.
I should’ve expected it. He had the spare key from a couple months ago when I struggled with my panic attacks the most and he’d insisted on “emergency access” in case. Plus, the boys had agreed on him hanging out with me today.
I pushed myself up slowly, groaning at the dull ache in my side. My ribs still hated me for breathing too hard, and my forearm protested every time I shifted. I considered calling out to him, but the sounds in the kitchen only got louder—along with what I assumed was him humming softly to himself.
Padding out of the bedroom with one socked foot and the other dragging a blanket behind me, I turned the corner to find Oscar in the middle of what I could only describe as controlled chaos.
The counters were littered with ingredients—half-used eggshells in a bowl, pancake mix in a measuring cup, a bottle of orange juice open and half-poured into a glass, and Oscar standing in the center of it all, wearing one of my aprons like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He hadn’t heard me yet. I watched him lean down to check the skillet, spatula in hand, eyes narrowed in pure concentration. He flipped a pancake with the kind of careful deliberation usually reserved for high-speed turns on a track.
And the best part?
Nothing was burnt.
Yet.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed—a soft, surprised burst of sound that startled him just enough to make him jump and spin toward me.
“You’re not supposed to be up yet!” he exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up. “I was going to surprise you.”
“You did,” I smirked, leaning against the doorway. “Surprised you haven’t set off the fire alarm.”
Oscar rolled his eyes, cheeks dusted a light pink as he returned to the stove. “You’re hilarious. I’m actually doing fine, thank you very much.”
“You’re doing great,” I teased, eyes twinkling. “Even if it looks like a tornado hit my kitchen.”
He gestured dramatically with the spatula. “A small price to pay for gourmet breakfast.”
I walked over slowly, settling into one of the barstools with a wince as I adjusted my arm. Oscar glanced over immediately, eyes scanning me like he could somehow absorb the pain for me if he just stared long enough.
“Hey,” he said gently. “Don’t even think about helping. You just sit there and look pretty, alright?”
I blinked.
The words were said with a teasing lilt, but his eyes held something quieter. Something real. Something sincere and steady.
“I mean it,” he added, softer now, pouring the last of the batter into the pan. “Let me take care of you today.”
I didn’t argue.
Because the truth was, Oscar was one of those people who didn’t need to be loud to make you feel safe. He didn’t hover. He didn’t pity. He just existed beside you, making space for you to breathe without asking anything in return.
Once the pancakes were done, he plated them carefully—fruit on the side, syrup in a little ramekin like he’d seen me do once. Then he brought the plate over like it was a five-star meal, setting it down in front of me with a proud grin.
“You made this?” I asked, trying not to look too impressed.
“Every last slightly-lopsided pancake,” he replied.
I took a bite. It was fluffy, warm, and surprisingly good. My eyes flicked up to his and I nodded once. “Not bad, Piastri.”
“I’ll take that as a Michelin star.”
Later, after we’d eaten and he’d forced me onto the couch with a blanket and another coffee, I caught him washing dishes without being asked, sleeves rolled up, humming again under his breath. Oscar made even the dull ache of healing feel a little bit sweeter.
On the third day, Max arrived like a storm disguised as calm.
No dramatic entrance. No teasing comments or sarcastic remarks like I half-expected. Just a knock on the door, a quiet “It’s me,” and then the gentle thud of his backpack hitting the floor as he stepped inside like he’d done it a thousand times before.
I hadn’t realized how much my body had begun to ache from sitting awkwardly all morning until Max gently guided me back to the couch, fixed the pillows behind me, and placed a blanket over my lap—tucking it in with a care that didn’t match the usual intense persona he carried on race weekends.
“What?” I asked, arching a brow as he stood above me with crossed arms, eyes scanning me like he was memorizing a damage report.
He shrugged. “You look tired. And grumpy. That’s my job, not yours.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Uh huh.” He didn’t look convinced. “Have you taken your meds yet?”
I blinked.
Shit.
He sighed, pulling out his phone and tapping the screen once before showing it to me. “I set alarms. You’re officially on the Max Verstappen Recovery Program.”
“You’re kidding,” I said, eyes widening slightly.
“Nope.” His voice was steady, almost playful, but there was something under it. Something fierce and unwavering. He reached into the side pocket of his bag and pulled out the familiar orange bottle, the one I always seemed to forget in my frustration with being… well, this version of me.
The version that needed help just to function.
“I was gonna take them—”
“Sure you were,” Max said, cutting me off with the smallest quirk of a smile.
I opened my mouth to protest, but he stepped closer, expression softening as he crouched in front of me. His fingers reached up, slow and careful, and tilted my chin gently so I had no choice but to look at him.
His blue eyes—always sharp, always focused—held something different now. Something quiet. Protective. Real.
“No excuses,” he murmured. “You don’t take care of yourself, I’ll do it for you.”
The pill bottle was pressed into my hand, and for a second, I just sat there, stunned into stillness by the tenderness in his voice.
This was Max. Max who never sugar coated. Max who rarely let emotion crack through the armor of being a two-time world champion. And yet here he was, setting alarms to make sure I didn’t forget my meds. Holding my gaze like the sky might fall if I didn’t take care of myself. Acting like my well-being was the only thing that mattered in the world right now.
I swallowed the pills without another word.
“Good girl,” he said softly, before standing and ruffling my hair in the most annoyingly affectionate way possible.
“You’re lucky I can’t punch you right now,” I muttered.
“You’re lucky I know that.”
Later, he sat beside me, our legs tucked under the same blanket as we watched mindless TV. He kept half his focus on the screen and the other half on me, occasionally checking the time or asking if I needed anything. Not hovering—but always there.
Not once did he make me feel like a burden.
Just someone worth showing up for.
And in the safety of that simple, quiet evening, I let myself lean just a little into him—into the warmth, the presence, and the overwhelming peace of being taken care of by someone who rarely let the world see how much he actually cared.
—
The knock on the door came earlier than expected, just as I was halfway through the frustrating, one-handed battle of pulling on my hoodie. The pain in my shoulder had flared up again, throbbing in time with my heartbeat, but I wasn’t about to call for help—not yet. I was stubborn, if nothing else.
“Don’t rush,” Franco’s voice called from the other side of the door, light and teasing. “I come in peace. And with croissants.”
I smiled despite myself.
By the time I shuffled to the door and opened it, he stood there grinning, one brow raised and a paper bag balanced in one hand. His hair was a little windswept, sunglasses still on, as if he’d sprinted over without a second thought.
“Morning,” he greeted, stepping in. “I hear we have a mission today.”
I sighed and tilted my head. “Please don’t tell me Nico sent you with a checklist.”
“Something like that,” he chuckled, setting the croissants on the counter and pulling off his sunglasses. “He wants people to see you. Remind the world that ‘Ghost’ is still very much alive and kicking.”
“Barely kicking,” I muttered, glancing down at my wrapped arm.
Franco didn’t miss a beat. “Barely is still enough.”
He was already moving toward the hallway, grabbing the gear bag I hadn’t even asked him to bring and pulling out my helmet. He held it like it was something sacred, brushing his fingers along the top before turning toward me.
“C’mere,” he said softly. “Let me help.”
I hesitated, but he gave me that warm, patient look—the one that always made me feel safe, even when everything else was chaos. So I stepped forward, and he carefully guided the helmet on, making sure nothing tugged too hard against my injury. His fingers brushed my skin as he adjusted the padding, gentle and deliberate, and I caught the way his eyes softened when he saw me wince.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Just hate feeling like this.”
His hand paused against the side of my jaw, thumb grazing lightly before he pulled back. “You’re allowed to hate it. Just don’t let it convince you that you’re weak.”
Once I was dressed—slowly, awkwardly, with Franco helping me get the shoulder support back on without making a production of it—we headed out to the team headquarters. Just like Nico wanted, everyone got a chance to see that “Ghost” was up, alive, and recovering. Franco stayed by my side the entire time, making it seem natural, like he was just there because he wanted to be. Though I am sure he did want to be with me, just not here where I could easily mess something up in my healing.
He didn’t treat me like a porcelain doll. He let me lean on him if I needed to, but never hovered or made me feel helpless. Just present. Grounding.
After enough smiling and pretending to be perfectly fine for the cameras and the team, we ducked out early. “You’ve earned the rest of the day off,” he said, nudging me with his shoulder as we got into his car. “What’s next? Grocery run?”
“God, yes. If I eat another instant noodle cup I might scream.”
We wandered the aisles like two university students who barely knew how to shop for real food. He made fun of my oddly specific snack preferences, and I teased him for the fact that he apparently can’t function without a very particular kind of olive oil.
When we got home, we cooked together—well, I supervised while Franco did most of the cooking, reading the instructions with exaggerated concentration. He looked so serious trying to make the sauce just right, even though it was something so simple. I sat at the counter, legs swinging slightly, letting the domesticity of it all sink in.
The soft sound of the simmering pan, Franco humming under his breath, the occasional “Try this and tell me if it’s too salty”—it was the kind of quiet intimacy I didn’t realize I’d been craving. It wasn’t about being cared for, it was just… being with someone who wanted to care.
By the time dinner was done, my arm was aching again and I was half-asleep at the table. Franco cleaned up without asking, humming that same soft tune he’d had going all day.
Before leaving, he leaned down and gently bumped his forehead against mine. “Tomorrow’s Lando's shift, but text me if you need anything. Or if you just want more pasta.”
I didn’t say anything until after the door clicked shut and the apartment returned to stillness.
Then I whispered it to the empty space he left behind: “Thank you.”
And I meant it more than he would ever know.
I had barely rolled out of bed when my phone buzzed. A FaceTime call from Lando. Not a text. Not a “hey, you up?” warning. Just a full-blown, front-camera assault first thing in the morning. I sighed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and accepted the call.
Lando’s face filled the screen instantly—grinning, eyes bright, clearly way too awake for how early it was. “Good morning, sunshine!”
“You are way too chipper for this hour,” I groaned, flopping back into the pillows.
“I’ve got a surprise,” he said, practically bouncing in place. “Nico gave the okay. I got you cleared for something fun today.”
I blinked. “Cleared for what?”
“Quadrant. Video shoot. You and me. Karting track. But—” he raised a finger, “—don’t freak out. You’re not racing. You’re coaching. Like a proper boss. You get to wear your helmet and everything. Total mystery. Maximum ‘Ghost’ vibes.”
My heart fluttered at the thought. It wasn’t racing, not exactly. But it was a toe back in the world I loved. A toe that wouldn’t risk undoing the progress I’d made. A smile crept onto my face despite the dull ache in my shoulder.
“I’m in,” I whispered.
“I knew you’d say yes!” Lando grinned like he’d just won a bet with himself. “Be ready in an hour. I’m picking you up.”
Exactly sixty-two minutes later, Lando was in my apartment—letting himself in with the spare key Oscar had reluctantly given him, armed with a large quadrant hoodie and one of my helmets already polished and tucked under his arm.
“You’re a menace,” I told him as he helped me pull on the hoodie. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah, but I’m your menace today,” he shot back, grinning as he gently fixed the collar so it wouldn’t irritate the sling. Then, softer, more sincere: “You look badass. Even with one arm fully out of commission and the other only half as bad.”
He helped me with the helmet, adjusting the straps like he’d done it a hundred times. His fingers were careful, brushing under my jaw as he worked.
“There,” he said when he was done, stepping back to admire his work. “Ghost is back.”
The shoot was at a private karting track, nothing too intense, but buzzing with energy. Lando had already worked it out with the Quadrant team: he and I would each coach one half of the group for the day. It wasn’t about speed or competition—it was about chaos, laughter, and low-stakes fun. And somehow, even though I wasn’t driving, it felt like coming home.
Lando stuck close to me but never hovered. He made it look natural, like we were just teammates riffing off each other—his chaotic jokes balancing my deadpan commentary. He made sure I had a stool to sit on whenever I needed, slipped water bottles into my hand without saying a word, and every once in a while, he’d shoot me a look across the track—a grin that asked you okay? without needing the words.
And every time, I’d nod. Because I was.
One of my favorite moments was when a member of his team spun out dramatically and Lando nearly lost his mind laughing. I leaned into his shoulder, laughing just as hard, and he slung his arm around me without hesitation. It was instinctual. Natural. Like it had always been this way.
By the end of the shoot, we were both exhausted but glowing. He helped me out of my helmet and immediately fluffed my hair like a brat.
“You were incredible today,” he said softly, his voice almost lost beneath the fading roar of the track. “You know that, right?”
I nodded, cheeks warm. “It felt good. To just... be seen again. Even if no one really saw me.”
“But I did,” he said, eyes soft. “And you were you. All day.”
We rode home with the windows down, wind tangling our hair, laughter still lingering in the car like an afterglow.
That night, as I lay in bed with the ache in my shoulder reminding me I still had a ways to go, I smiled. Because today, I wasn’t just recovering. I was living. And Lando made sure I didn’t forget what that felt like.
—
When the knock came at the door, I knew it was Ollie before I even peeked through the peephole. There was something about his timing, always perfect without trying. He knew when to give space, and when to break the silence.
I opened the door and he immediately grinned, holding up a bag of pastries like some sort of peace offering.
“I bring sugar and distraction,” he said.
I chuckled and stepped aside to let him in. “That’s my favorite combo.”
He kicked off his shoes at the door and wandered inside like he’d done it a hundred times—which, honestly, he had. My apartment didn’t look like much now that I was practically living on the couch full-time, but it was still my space. My comfort zone. And today, it felt better with him in it.
“I figured we could start looking at places,” he said, setting the pastries on the coffee table and flopping down onto the rug like it was his natural habitat. “Kimi already sent me a voice memo from a mountain he hiked up at 6 a.m. to tell us how much he wants to freeze to death next week.”
“Oh god,” I groaned, easing onto the couch with a soft wince. “If he tries to make me hike, I swear I’ll fake a rib puncture.”
Ollie snorted. “I’m already making the executive decision to veto snow.”
He leaned back on one arm, looking up at me with that lopsided smirk of his, and for a moment, I forgot about the weight in my chest. About the way healing felt more like surviving these days. About how this break was supposed to be a rest, but mostly felt like punishment.
But then we passed the hallway later on our way to grab my laptop, and it all came crashing back. He stopped. I didn’t have to look to know why.
The display shelf by the hallway had always been a quiet little timeline of my career—my first F4 helmet, the one I won my first karting championship in, and a couple others from standout races. But now… now there was another.
My most recent one.
The one from the crash.
Still blackened at the edges. Still scarred by fire and dirt and desperation. I hadn’t touched it since it was returned to me. I didn’t know why I left it there—maybe to remind myself I survived. Maybe because I hadn’t figured out how to hide it.
Ollie stood frozen, staring at it like it had personally insulted him.
I turned to say something, anything to break the tension, but then he spoke—and it hit like a punch to the ribs.
“You kept it like that?” His voice was quiet. Unsteady.
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I... I guess I couldn’t bring myself to clean it. It feels like—like proof that I got out, you know? That I made it.”
He didn’t look at me. “I thought you didn’t.” My breath caught.
His hands were balled into fists again, just like they had been in the medical room.
“You were moving,” he said, voice raw. “I saw you crawling out. I kept telling myself, she’s out, she’s out—she’s gonna be okay. And then it exploded again. I only saw it in my mirrors. Just... flames. You disappeared. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t go back. I didn’t know if you were—”
His voice cracked. I stepped forward, gently placing my good hand on his arm. “Ollie.”
“I couldn’t do anything,” he whispered. “I just kept driving and praying they’d pull you out in time.”
“You don’t have to carry that,” I murmured. “You didn’t leave me. You were racing. You didn’t abandon me.”
He finally turned to look at me, and there it was again—that same look from the hospital. Like part of him still hadn’t let go of the moment he thought I was gone. “I’m here,” I said softly. “I made it. And you’re here, too.”
He didn’t say anything, just let me pull him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around me carefully, holding tight but not too tight, like he didn’t want to cause more damage.
We stood there for a long moment, the silence more healing than any words could’ve been.
When we pulled apart, his eyes were a little glassy, but his voice had steadied. “Okay. No more crash talk for today. We’ve got a vacation to plan.”
“Finally,” I said with a smile, wiping at my cheek. “Something that doesn’t involve ice packs or medical tape.”
Back in the living room, I curled up on the couch with a blanket, and Ollie sat on the floor beside me, laptop open between us. He pulled up a tab with about ten bookmarks already waiting.
“I did some scouting. Don’t worry, I filtered out anything colder than 10 degrees.”
I laughed. “You’re a saint.”
“Obviously,” he said with a grin. “First up: this little seaside villa in Cinque Terre. Gorgeous view, private terrace, walking distance to gelato.”
“Sold.”
“Wait, wait—next one’s even better,” he said, scrolling to a cozy mountain cabin in Switzerland. “Fireplace. Hot tub. Comes with a dog named Muffin, apparently.”
I gasped. “Muffin??”
He grinned. “Now you’re invested.”
We kept flipping through options, laughing and bickering like we weren’t two people who’d almost lost each other. At some point, we ended up side by side on the couch, sharing a pastry and debating which place had the better vibe for “healing, but make it cute.”
By the end of it, we had a list narrowed down and a tentative plan to leave in three days with Kimi.
And for the first time since the crash, I felt something like normal again. Not just alive—but living.
—
I didn’t realize how nice it would be to have Kimi around until he showed up with an armful of empty duffel bags and a determined look in his eyes.
“No offense,” he said, stepping inside and immediately kicking the door shut with his heel, “but your packing system is a crime. This time, we’re doing it properly.”
I blinked at him, leaning against the doorway of my bedroom in an oversized hoodie and a sling. “Hi to you, too.”
“Hi,” he replied, grinning in that boyish way that made it hard to stay annoyed. “Now sit down and point at things. I’ll do the rest.”
And he did.
Without hesitation, Kimi opened drawers, folded clothes, sorted toiletries, and somehow managed to get all my essentials into a suitcase in a way that looked almost... aesthetic? I couldn’t decide if he was just naturally organized or if he’d learned how to be useful from traveling nonstop with F2. Either way, he didn’t need to be asked. He just did things. Quiet, capable, and oddly comforting.
“You’re scarily efficient,” I said as he zipped up the second bag.
He shrugged. “You need comfy clothes, beach things, and at least one outfit in case we go somewhere nice. Everything else is overthinking.”
“I am overthinking,” I muttered.
“I know,” he said, eyes flicking to mine, teasing. “You always do.”
That made me roll my eyes and throw a sock at his head. He caught it without looking, like some kind of casual ninja, and smirked. “Is that your way of saying thank you?”
“Sure. Also, you’re lucky I can’t throw properly right now.”
“I’m lucky either way,” he said quietly, almost too casually—but the way he said it made me freeze for half a second. I opened my mouth, ready with a sarcastic reply, but he was already standing, stretching his arms behind his head like nothing had happened.
“Alright,” he said. “We need food before I start unpacking things out of boredom.”
We ended up ordering our usual takeout from the Chinese place two blocks down. Kimi set up camp on the couch while I shuffled over with the food, and even though I knew I looked like a gremlin in sweatpants and messy hair, he didn’t blink. Just scooted over, fluffed the pillow next to him, and patted it.
“C’mon, your side of the couch looks lonely.”
I plopped down and groaned dramatically as I got comfortable, which earned me a quiet laugh from him.
“You’re so needy,” I joked.
“You love it,” he shot back, unbothered. Then he handed me my drink without even looking. Like he knew exactly which one was mine.
We ate in comfortable silence for a while, trading bites and throwing in the occasional “this is so good” or “okay that chili sauce is illegal.” After eating, Kimi picked up the controllers and waved mine in front of my face.
“I updated your save file. You’re welcome.”
“You what?”
“You were stuck on that one level. I fixed it.”
“Are you trying to one-up Oscar’s breakfast day?” I asked.
“No,” he said, eyes bright with amusement. “I’m trying to make sure you never get rid of me.”
Again, the words landed softer than they should have, sitting somewhere in the back of my mind like a puzzle piece I hadn’t quite figured out.
The night went on like that—lazy and warm and full of inside jokes. We played a few rounds of our favorite co-op game, him carrying us through the boss fights and me screaming every time we nearly died. When the controller finally dropped out of my hand and I leaned my head against the couch in defeat, he just chuckled and tugged a blanket over both of us.
“Movie time,” he said, already scrolling through the streaming options. “You get first pick. But choose wisely, because I will complain the entire time if it sucks.”
“I thought you were supposed to be helping me heal, not raising my blood pressure.”
“Stress builds character,” he deadpanned.
I laughed, sinking deeper into the couch. We eventually settled on an old comfort film, and somewhere between the opening credits and the halfway point, I felt my eyelids growing heavy. Kimi didn’t say anything when I rested my head lightly against his shoulder. He just shifted slightly so I could fit better and kept watching, one arm resting casually along the back of the couch.
He smelled like clean laundry and citrus shampoo and something that was just Kimi—familiar, steady, safe.
As I started drifting off, I heard him say something under his breath.
“Might be my favorite day of break so far.”
I didn’t say anything.
But I smiled.
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Richonne in Retrospect - The 💋 List
(every Richonne kiss ranked)
#28: The Callout Kiss & Officially Rekindled Kiss (1.04)
Episode 4 is an abundance of riches, with stellar acting, writing, and more. It also gave Richonne some of their absolute best kiss scenes. 🔥 We’ll be raving about them all on this list, but starting with these two that I felt were a tie. When they're in bed and Rick brings up essentially not going home so that he can change the CRM, there's a lot of ways Michonne could have reacted to that, but the way she chooses is so heartwarming.
I love the meaningfulness of Michonne first responding with a kiss and showing Rick this affection even after he just brought up something that hurts her. Rick had been putting Michonne through an emotional roller coaster this episode and it could have been so easy and understandable for her to have an irritated response to Rick’s CRM comments in bed. But instead, Michonne shows such a beautiful display of empathy and care when she takes Rick's face and kisses him.
She loves him and sees him and she understands this behavior from him is coming from a place of trauma. It’s powerful to see her choose her love for Rick over her hurt by Rick with this kiss. And then she still gives him a necessary dose of honesty by noting that he’s still lying to her and to himself. As I so often like to say - Rick has himself a wife who is stunningly beautiful and extremely good at both empathy and accountability and that was all evident in this moment where Michonne manages to show Rick genuine love without also downplaying the hurt and dishonesty in his words.
And then there's the kiss that caps off this exceptional bedroom scene. I love the way the kiss is filmed - from them both in black, the framing, lighting, and just the magnetism of it all. They were already as deeply in love as possible but I like how they kiss here like they've managed to somehow fall even more in love after their powerful heart-to-heart in this apartment. Richonne kisses really are an effective form of communication between them. So by sealing this moving conversation with a kiss, they don't even need any more words to perfectly confirm to each other that they're officially rekindled and ready to go home together. ♥️
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ HER FURY
ᯓ★ Reader has EXTREME emotional detachment/anger issues, enemies to lovers trope (?), John loves to rile up reader, angst (mention of r-word but it doesnt happen dw), slight gore?, lots of funny shi tho, intense smooching but nothing crazy 🤯, reader is fem!!! (Literally writing this instead of doing my assignment, didnt proof read I rushed)
ᯓ★
Pairing you and John up for any mission was a recipe for disaster. Yet Dutch doesn't seem to catch the memo about the chemistry between you both. You HATED John and he? He enjoys that you hate him. As a matter of fact, he gets the thrill out of pissing you off. Because everybody and I mean EVERYBODY at camp knows you have a bad temper. It's just some of them happen to value their life instead of testing your limits.
Nonetheless Dutch had asked of you and John to confront a company man in Saint Denis. The details were that he had a contract that you needed to steal from him. You didn't know much but all you knew was that he played the chief into giving up all his property to the him and with the crew needing help from the chief, this was the only way to do it.
You're never a complainer when it comes to being assigned a mission but since you're being paired up with John and not to mention being told to do it this early in the morning.
You were pissed.
"Can't believe I'm doing this in the morning... Out of everyone Dutch should know I'm not a morning person" You cursed before riding off with John matching your pace on his horse.
Hearing your muttered curses, he can't help but smirk.
"Ain't that the truth. I don’t think anyone in this gang is a mornin’ person" He said.
"Oh shut up" You simply replied.
John doesn't say anything but chuckle at your annoyance. Eventually you two made it to the city, you both dismounted your horses and tied them to a nearby hitching pole. Even in the early morning, the city of Saint Denis was already bustling with activity, horse-drawn wagons passed by, and people hustled and bustled about their business.
John and you made your way through the city, eyeing the people around you and listening for any clues about the man Dutch sent you to hunt down. As you made your way down the sidewalk, you couldn't help but glare at every businessman your eyes laid upon. The way they speak and act just manages to tick you off. This however caught John's attention.
"Ain't you just a ray of sunshine" He sarcastically said and it made you look at him with your brows narrowed.
"What?"
"What? You're scarin' the city folks, that's what"
You scoff.
"All these rich folks just make me all pissed off. Actin' all high and mighty like their lives are worth more than the poor. It's all about class 'til you're talking to someone beneath you"
John chuckled, his eyes following your gaze as you glared at the next businessman walking past you.
"I don’t blame ya. Most of these fools wouldn’t last a day out there tryin’ to survive. They ain’t got any idea what it’s really like" He said and you somehow found yourself nodding to his words.
Suddenly your eyes stopped at a figure hurrying outside a tailor shop. His appearance fitting the very description Dutch had provided you. You nudged John with your elbow and you jerked your head towards the target. John followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the man you pointed at. He studied him for a moment, taking in his features and behaviour.
"I think that's him" You said.
"Seems like it" he answered in a serious tone.
"He’s in a pretty big hurry to get somewhere, ain't he?" He pointed out the obvious.
"Well let's make sure he doesn't get there" Before you even finished talking you were already going after the man.
The two of you started following the man while making sure to keep some distance as to not raise any suspicion. Eventually, the man's route lead the two of you to a quieter part of the city, away from most of the people. John shot a glance your way, a silent question in his eyes of what to do next.
You don't say anything but the mischief on your face somehow answered that question in his head.
"Hey!!" You called out to the guy who's body tenses at your voice. Despite you trying to plaster on a smile, it just made you come off scary.
"What do you want? Money?" he asked gruffly, his hand reaching for something inside his pocket discreetly.
"Money? Is that what you think what my kind is always after?" You approached him slowly and John simply watched from a feet away, his arms crossed with a glimpse of amusement on his face.
He had to admit, this is always the best part of being paired up with you.
"I heard from a birdy that you've done something terrible... you wouldn't happen to be familiar with the chief now would you?" You placed a hand on his shoulder and from how the man's eyes widened slightly at your question and the hint of nervousness displayed on his face.
You knew this was the right guy.
"And who might you be? A-And why should I tell you anything about my business with the chief?" He asked, his tone guarded and wary with suspicion.
When your hands came down to smooth out the wrinkled fabric of his suit, he yelps at the sudden tuck of his tie. You laugh it off.
"I'm simply a nobody but I know damn well you tricked the chief into giving up half his property to your company. Now I don't care what you need it for but there's nothing more that I hate than a lying scum" You flash him a smile before grabbing him forcefully by the jaw. Your action causing him to panic.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about! Let me go!!" He stammered, his mask now slipping away to reveal his true self.
"Give me the contract sir and you won't be leaving here with a broken nose" You casually spoke and John stepped a feet closer to the scene.
"Just do what she says sir" John added and the man looks between the two of you before finally nodding quickly.
"O-Okay!! It's in my pocket!!" He said and you gave him a warning look before releasing your grip on him.
He took a few deep breaths to steady himself before taking out a crumpled piece of paper. You raise your eyebrow as you took it from him, then unfolding it to read the words written on it properly. Once you were sure it was the real thing, you turn to face John who has a small smirk on his face from observing the confrontation.
"Well, well... that was quite the performance darlin" He said, taking the contract from you the second you handed it to him.
"I ain't your darlin" You said as you walked past him and back onto the city streets. He chuckles softly while following you from behind.
"Oh, that's right. You ain’t my darlin’, you're just someone extremely stubborn and bossy who I gotta follow around all day" He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"Glad we've got that cleared out"
Suddenly the sound of a whistle pierced through the air. John's expression darkened at the sight of the lawmen headed at the direction of the two of you.
"Great, now the law is after us. Figures" He remarked at the turns of events but you were already halfway getting onto your horse.
"Are you plannin' on staying?!" You shouted and he didn't need to be told twice as he quickly got on his horse.
The two of you quickly rode off and you checked over your shoulder to see several lawmen hot on your trail. Their guns firing as they tried to stop you from escaping. John, too, was firing his pistol as he rode, his aim steady and focused. You let out an annoyed groan before taking out your rifle and began shooting at the reinforcements coming from the left.
"Now I'm thinking if I should have killed the guy!" You shouted before shooting one square in the face.
John chuckled grimly as he watched you take out another lawman, his focus still on the ones from behind.
"Maybe you should've done us all a favor and put him out of his misery. Would've saved us a whole lot of trouble" He said and with half of them taken out and some on their way. You quickly looked around for an escape route.
"There!! The trees!!" You pointed.
John followed your lead, steering his horse into the trees as you both hid together. The two of you waited silently, the only sound the rapid beating of your hearts as the lawmen rode past, their horses' hooves thundering against the ground. Once they were out of sight, John let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Well, that was a close call" he muttered, his voice a little out of breath.
"I suppose I should be thanking you for getting us into this mess in the first place, then?" He manages to say even after barely making it out. You shoot him a death glare.
"Now I'm wishing Dutch had picked Javier to come with me" You said before galloping the way back to camp.
John raises his brows out of shock at your sudden confession. Quickly and almost desperately, he catches up to you and rode alongside you.
"Oh, come on, I ain't that bad" he countered, his tone feigning offense.
"You're worse" You said and like always, you rode off in a haste, leaving him completely behind. He sighs as he watches you go.
-
Once you made it back to camp, John arrived right after you. He got off his horse and he watches as you hand Dutch the contract before heading to your tent. When he tries to say something to you, you gave him a middle finger with your back facing him. Clearly noticing you're not in a good mood, he shrugs and walked away.
John had an amused look on his face as he stood beside Arthur, the two of them watching you practically storming inside your tent.
"She's quite the firecracker, ain't she?" John said and it had Arthur chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Oh, that she does" he agreed with a smirk on his face.
"Although I gotta say, it's rather entertaining to see her riled up" He added.
Just then they see Uncle headed towards your tent. Clearly looking to ask you for something.
"This can go wrong in so many ways" Arthur observed.
The second Uncle made contact with your tent, that was it.
"GET OUT!!! GET THE FUCK OUT!!" You shouted and threw a candle that merely missed him by the head.
John and Arthur couldn't help but burst out laughing as they watched Uncle trip and fall on his way from your tent. Everybody knows that you hate getting your alone time interrupted, especially when you're tired or had just came back from a rough mission so anyone who tried to talk to you was practically asking for it.
"That poor bastard" John said, wiping a tear from his eye while Arthur's laughter was subsiding slowly.
"I gotta give him credit for trying though. He's either really brave or really stupid to approach when she's in a mood like that" Arthur chuckled.
Soon Javier joined the conversation, confusion and curiosity shown on his face.
"Well speak of the devil. Just in time to witness (Y/N) in all her glory" John said and Javier raised his brows in surprise.
"Ah, is she in a mood again? I thought I heard her yelling from all the way over there" Javier said and mirrored the other two who were standing and facing your tent.
"You heard right and apparently Uncle was unfortunate enough to be the first one to try and talk to her" John said with a slight smirk on his face.
"Poor bastard probably got an earful" Javier shaked his head with a chuckle.
"But I wonder why she's always so angry, there has to be a reason to her anger" Javier spoke and it sparked something inside John's mind.
He always figured it was something apart of your character so he never thought to view things like that.
"Who knows? Dutch found her in the woods alone, starved to bone and yet she still had the energy to fight. She was only 9 and she never told us why she was out there all alone" Arthur answered.
"Poor girl"
"Yeah"
As the two kept on talking. John was standing there with his arms crossed as he's completely lost in his mind. The one question he never thought he should pay more attention to.
Why were you angry?
-
The evening came fast. Everybody was busy doing their own thing and John was simply relaxing by the chair until he heard sounds of giggles. The voice was awfully familiar so he got up to follow the source of the sound. To his surprise he found you playing with Jack by the grass a bit further from camp. You were teaching him how to make a flower crown and John couldn't help but notice the one on top of Jack's head.
"Well, I'll be damned" John muttered.
"She's a natural isn't she?" He jumps slightly at Hosea who pretty much came out of nowhere.
"Looks like she's got a soft spot for the kid" He added as the two watch you laugh when Jack began stressing over the steps.
"More like a natural pain in my ass" John said and Hosea snorts. The sound catching your attention almost immediately, the second your neck snapped towards their direction. The two knew what was coming.
"THE HELL ARE YOU TWO LOOKIN' AT?!" You cursed while amusingly at the same time were covering Jack's ears.
The sight was enough to have John grin.
"I didn't know you were a real softie for the kid!" He said while Hosea decided to leave for the sake of his safety.
"I bet you even read bedtime stories to the boy"
"She does!!" Jack said and you couldn't contain the betrayal on your face when you turned to look at him. Seeing your face, John laughs.
"Can I get a piggyback ride auntie (Y/N)?" Jack asked so innocently that you couldn't stay mad at him. You simply nodded and he giggled with excitement as he settled onto your back.
"Say the thing!!" Jack said and you awkwardly looked at John from the corner of your eyes to see him looking all curious.
Ah... this is so embarrassing...
"All abroad the (Y/N) express..." You said with less energy than you usually do but regardless Jack was having the time of his life.
This just made John burst out into laughter. If he thought he hadn't seen it all, he does now.
"Damn kids got a good grip on you" He said, following you as you carried Jack around the camp. Your expression stoic while Jack was acting as though he was flying.
"Good I wouldn't want him to fall" Hearing you say that, John couldn't help but let a genuine smile slip.
"Of course you wouldn't" He said, his tone more softer and now less teasing.
The second it was night time, it was your turn to patrol the grounds. You walked around, rifle in hand as you were on high alert and watching for any potential dangers. It was peaceful you had to admit, just you and the sounds of the trees rustling through the wind.
You continued on your patrol until your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned around almost in a blink of an eye, rifle drawn at the figure nearing towards you... only to see it was none other than John.
Of course it's John.
Why wouldn't it be John?
"Can't you just leave me alone?" You asked while he had both his hands raised up.
"Wow now, I just wanted to keep you company"
"God you're like a poodle. Wouldn't leave me alone" You said as you lowered your rifle and continued on the path of your patrol. He snickers at your words.
"A poodle? That's a new one"
You simply ignored him hoping that he'll go away but instead he followed you. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up, his tone a little softer than usual.
"So, what made you suddenly decide to take Jack on your back and act all motherly-like?" He asked and you were hoping he would drop that topic by now.
"What do you mean? I'm always like that" You response made John raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his expression.
"You? Always motherly?" he chuckled, his skepticism evident.
"That's not the impression you usually give off, darlin"
"Oh please I can be nice. It's just some people don't deserve that from me"
"And who exactly doesn't deserve your so-called kindness?" he inquired, knowing very well that the list was probably long.
"People who just keeps on pissing me off" You look over at him for a quick second that if he wasn't looking at you from the start, he would have missed it.
"You mean, like me?"
"Oh you just happen to be at the top of my list" John chuckled, clearly enjoying your blunt honesty.
"I'm honored. It's good to know that I'm holding the top spot on your list of people you hate most" He said with a sarcastic voice.
After what felt like minutes of walking around, you let out a yawn as you decided to rest by a log. John stood by where you're sitting, his arms crossed as he tilts his head at you.
"Exhausted?" He asks.
"Of your shit? Yeah, just about"
He rolls his eyes at your reply before making himself sit down beside you. You stare off into the distance, at the brightly litted camp. He stared at the emotionless look on your face. Almost like all joy was sucked out of you. Sensing this might the best time and the only time he'll get, he decided to ask something.
"I heard that Dutch found you alone in the woods when you were 9. How'd that come to be?" He asks and you were still for a second before your eyes turned to look at him. With the way you were staring at him so coldly, he was wondering if he had pissed you off.
"... how would you understand?" You asked and he paused for a moment, his expression hardening slightly.
He understood your hint that you didn't think he would understand how you felt, which rubbed him the wrong way. He let out a scoff, his irritation growing.
"I ain't some damn fool, darlin'. Don't assume I can't empathize with you just cause I ain't the most sensitive person in this gang" He said and you stared at him a little longer before letting out a defeated sigh.
"I grew up in a poor family. Everyday it was a struggle to even put food on our plate. So one day my deadbeat father thought it would better off selling me and my sisters to some rich perverts. I fought like hell to run away. In a way I thought it would be better having my body torn apart by the wolves than to have a man touch me inappropriately" You said and every word that came out of you made John's mouth go dry.
It's no stranger that majority of everyone in the gang had their troubling past but to hear it from the very person who barely ever expressed themselves. It was different.
"I hated my dad. Fuck. I hated my mom more for not doing anything. The more I grew up, the more I grew to hate everybody. This ain't even the life I wanna live so what's the point of loving it" You cursed, your hands now clenching into a fist.
"So you hate everyone because of what your parents did to ya? Don't get me wrong, they sure can rot in hell for what they did but for you to keep everyone at arm's length? Don't you think it's a bit lonely? Living like that?" He said and you looked at him.
"You're the one telling me this?"
"I'm just sayin', pushing everyone away ain't gonna fill that loneliness inside you, darlin'." He said.
You stared at him, contemplating a bit while John held your gaze, his dark eyes studying your face intently. He could see the conflict in your expression, the internal struggle you were having with yourself. He shifted slightly, leaning closer towards you. His voice was low and earnest as he spoke.
"You can't keep running from your feelings, darlin'. Sooner or later, they'll catch up to you" He said.
"And what if they hurt me again?" You said and guilty enough your eyes trailed down to his lips which made John's breath hitch as he felt his pulse quicken for a brief moment before he quickly composed himself.
"What if they don't, darlin'? What if you're just letting your fears control you? Letting you miss out on something great? On moments that could possibly make you feel alive again?" He said, forcing his voice to remain even and steady.
Alive...
You looked at him and he swore he has never seen you this vulnerable before. So when you leaned in towards him, John's heart skipped a beat. Your lips inches apart that for a brief moment he thought you were going to do something unexpected... but then you pulled back, quickly standing up and breaking the closeness between you two. John felt a pang of disappointment in his chest, though he quickly masked it with a neutral expression.
"Where you going?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.
"To sleep" You said, rifle held by your side as you went. He doesn't say anything as he remained seated on the log. He let out a sigh and turned his gaze towards the ground, his thoughts a tangled mess in his head.
-
For the next few days, John had noticed the subtle changes in your behavior. He realized that you were deliberately avoiding him. You would steer clear of him whenever he was around, finding tasks or conversations to distract yourself elsewhere.
He couldn't help but feel confused and slightly hurt by your distant attitude. He hadn't done anything to warrant such coldness from you, and the only interaction you'd had was that brief exchange in the woods. So he figured it was because of that night that your behaviour have changed towards him.
John's irritation began to grow as your subtle avoidance continued. He couldn't understand why you were suddenly treating him like he didn't exist. He was used to your usual hostility, sure, but this was a different kind of cold shoulder. So there's no other solution but to confront you.
One evening, after the camp had quieted down for the night, John approached you while you were sitting alone, sharpening your knife. The second you became aware of his presence, you quickly got up and tried to leave however this time he stood in your way blocking your path.
"Now hold on a moment, we need to talk" He said firmly.
"There's nothing to talk about" You said and John grew annoyed at your dismissive response.
"Oh, there's plenty to talk about... You've been avoiding me like the plague for days now. Can you at least tell me what the hell I did to deserve this silent treatment?" He said and you couldn't help swallow anxiously.
"Maybe have you thought that it isn't about you?" You said and once again tried to walk past him but as predicted, he stood in your way. His body almost towering over yours.
"Don't give me that horseshit, I ain't blind. You've been avoiding me like the plague. And every time I try to talk to you, you practically bolt in the other direction" He said, clearly growing more infuriated.
"I'm a busy girl!"
"A busy girl, huh?" he repeated sarcastically, his tone laced with thinly veiled anger.
"I ain't buying it. You've always found time to be a pain in my ass, and now suddenly you're too damn busy to even look at me?"
""What the hell do you want from me John?! You just looking for someone to put your anger out on?!" You raised your voice and John wasn't afraid to match your tone.
"Maybe I am! Maybe I'm sick of your goddamn attitude, your constant need to push everyone away. You ain't fooling anyone with your coldness. You're scared!"
"I'm scared?!"
"Yeah, you're scared. You're scared of letting anyone in, scared of letting your guard down. You act tough and distant 'cause you think it'll keep you safe. But it's all just a—"
Before he could continue on talking, you suddenly grabbed him by the collar to kiss him on the lips. The action clearly caught John off guard, his surprise evident on his face. But his body responded to you despite his confusion, his own anger fueling his reaction.
He returned the kiss passionately, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you against him in a tight embrace. The kiss was fierce and consuming, both of you releasing all the pent up frustration and tension between you two.
John's hands ran over your body, his touch greedy and possessive. He pressed himself hard against you, his body molding to yours as if he couldn't get close enough.
He broke the kiss for a brief moment, his breathing ragged and his eyes dark with desire. He captured your lips again, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth as his hands roamed under your shirt, exploring the bare skin of your waist.
That was until the sound of someone talking from nearby that made the both of you snap out of the moment. John's attention snapped away from you for a brief moment, his eyes darting towards the source of the noise.
He then took a step back, creating a small space between you now. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breaths after the intense moment you had just shared. Surprisingly you were the first to speak up.
"I... I didn't mean to avoid you... I was just scared of these feelings I felt around you... I thought ignoring it— ignoring you was the better idea" You said. After all, you weren't ever good at understanding your emotions.
John watched you, taking in the mixture of emotions that played across your face. He knew exactly what you were feeling because he knew what that feeling was. He took a step closer to you again, his expression now more serious.
"Sometimes we can't control how we feel, darlin'. And trust me, ain't nothing wrong with what we just did" He said, gently caressing the side of your face.
"... I'm fucking scared John... in this life I'm used to losing people, if I let myself feel things then I don't think I'll be able to survive the thought of losing you" You said, the fear in your confession made John frown a bit but there was this sweetness in his gaze when he cupped your face to look at him.
"I ain't going anywhere, darlin'. You ain't gonna lose me, I promise you that"
"You can't be sure" You said, your hands rested on top of his.
"You're right, I can't guarantee anything in this life... but I can promise you I'll do everything in my power to stay by your side. I ain't leaving you, no matter what. You got my word on that" He said, his eyes never leaving yours. You stared at him for a while before resting your head on his chest.
"God I hate you" You sighed but your lips formed a small smile. Seeing that, John couldn't help but chuckled, a warm, genuine smile spreading across his face as he wrapped his arms around you.
"You don't hate me. You can't stand me, though, I know that. But you definitely don't hate me. Otherwise, you wouldn't be leaning on me like this" He teased.
"Stop pushing your luck"
"Oh, come on, darlin'. You know you love me really" he said continuing his tease with a smirk on his face.
"Ugh..." You groaned and it had John chuckled again, enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. He tightened his arms around you while holding you close to him, his face nuzzling into your hair and his voice lowering to a husky, teasing tone.
"You don't have to admit it right now... but I know you do..."
#I LOVE HIM#WE'RE ALMOST AT 300 FOLLOWERS WHAAAA#x reader#fluff#angst#john marston#john marston x reader#john marston x you#rdr2#rdr2 x reader#rdr2 x you#rdr john#rdr x reader#john marston headcanons#red dead redemption#red dead redemption 2 x reader#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption 2 headcanons
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Can I have a 11❤️ and 12❤️ fluffy fic for Ed please?
Also a 40❤️ and 41❤️ smutty fix for Leo?
Thank you! 😊


I had to choose between the Ed or Leo drabble, and since I had other similar Leo requests, I chose him, sorry 😭 I promise I'll write some fluff for Ed eventually (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑) and thank you for liking my writing!! It means the world to me <3
35❤️ A kiss against a wall
40❤️ An impulsive kiss
41❤️ A kiss out of spite
Warning: spicy and kinda dubcon (?) Nothing that explicit, but still: MDNI.
Leo was sucking on a blueberry lollipop. Loudly. His lips puckered as he pulled it out of his mouth with a loud and aggravating pop. He then held it right in front of your lips.
“Lick it” he said, flatly, his face portraying no emotion. You could see how his tongue was stained blue and so were the insides of his lips.
You glared at him.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” you hissed, wishing you could throw daggers through your eyes and into his acid yellow irises.
He had you uncomfortably pinned against the wall of his room, his thigh forcefully shoved between your legs and one arm planted right beside your head.
He was close. Way too close for comfort. You could smell his designer cologne and look into the pores on his face – all perfectly closed and moisturized. His sweet breath fanned your own cheeks and you knew you looked like his absolute opposite: sweaty, flustered and haggard. Your heart beat fast inside your ribcage, but at least you knew it wasn't because you were excited at this development.
No. You just were fucking angry.
Leo shrugged.
“You've been avoiding me all day on purpose. Like, ignoring my dms and all. I had to grab your attention somehow, duh.” he wiggled the lollipop in front of you again “Come ooon. Lick it.”
You shifted in your position, but Leo barely budged. Goddamn the stupid strength of these ghouls, you thought.
You tried turning your head away from him, but he followed your movement anyway, head tilting to the side as he forced himself to stay under your gaze. He batted his eyelashes as he managed to make eye contact with you again.
You groaned.
“Of course I'm ignoring you. I'm not a masochist that's going to accept all your insults.”
He pouted, putting the lollipop inside his mouth again to give it a harsh suck – purposefully making an extremely grating and embarrassing sound.
You knew what he was doing, but you refused to let him have the satisfaction of flustering you.
“You used to be such a good pet, you know” he shook his head, feigning hurt “You used to accept everything I said with a nod and an ‘okay’. Where's my old and nicer Honor Roll?”
You laughed bitterly.
“Even I have my limits, Leo. I'm not going to give all my time and energy to some wannabe playboy influencer who can't do anything but be fake and mean.”
That seemed to have peeved him a bit more than you were expecting. You swallowed hard as you watched his gaze become bitterly cold. He pushed his thigh further against you.
“I said. Fucking lick it.” he murmured through gritted teeth, pushing the lollipop inside your mouth once you gasped at the friction of his thigh between your legs.
You hesitantly closed your lips, the artificial blueberry taste quickly coating your mouth as he rubbed it against your tongue.
“Suck it.” he began pushing the candy further into your mouth and you quickly complied, afraid he'd push too far just to make you gag.
You sucked the lollipop and a smirk slowly tugged the corner of Leo's mouth upwards. He patted your head once the hard candy was out of your mouth with a pop as well.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked, breathlessly, while he stuck out his tongue, making a show of putting the candy, now coated with your saliva, back inside his mouth.
You grimaced when he hummed loudly. It was awful, having to admit to yourself that this little stunt of his was arousing you, as you felt an uncomfortable heat pool in your groin.
However, as you looked down, you realized how Leo was anything but unaffected as well – the tent in his pants was very much visible, and you gasped.
He grinned maniacally, extremely pleased at how you had noticed the bulge in his pants. Quickly, he pressed his hips against yours and grinded shamelessly, moaning pornographically right next to your ear.
You closed your eyes tightly, trying to ground yourself so you wouldn't fall straight into his trap just because you got excited, of all things. You wouldn't allow this humiliation.
“Open your eyes” he mumbled breathlessly with the candy still inside his mouth “I have to have your eyes on me, otherwise none of this will be worth it” he completed, and you had a feeling he wasn't just talking about humping you like some horny teenager.
You breathed deeply as he kept on grinding against your core slowly, further awakening an unwanted pleasure in you.
“You hate me, Leo” you whispered against his cheek while he rested his forehead against your shoulder.
He giggled.
“And I love hating you” he raised his head, mumbling his words against the corner of your lips before taking the lollipop out of his mouth to place a kiss on your cheek.
“Fuck you.” you growled.
“I would like you to help me do that.” Leo moaned, as if your hatred towards him brought him great pleasure.
Without actually putting much thought into your actions, you snatched the lollipop out of his hand, placing it against your lips and pushing it against his.
Leo's eyes widened as your tongue swirled against the candy and prodded against his own lips. A satisfied chuckle resounded inside his chest once he understood what you were doing, and he quickly followed your movements.
You felt filthy as you kissed Leo, sharing the lollipop between your tongue and his. You two sucked and licked the candy, drool stained blue running down to your chins, and Leo whined against your mouth.
Like a whore, you thought.
You broke the kiss first, eyeing how his lips were fully stained blue, and you thought that yours probably looked the same. As you threw the accursed lollipop in the trash nearby, the realization finally hit you.
Brilliant. Now that both of you had blueberry coloring all over your mouths, anyone who looked at you would probably guess something might have happened between you two.
You rolled your eyes and groaned, slapping your hand against your forehead as you realized you, indeed, ended up falling straight into his trap, no matter how much you tried to avoid it.
He smiled devilishly, grabbing your hand and placing it against his painfully hard bulge. You bit your lip, stifling whatever aggravating noise could come out of your mouth.
“Now that it's come to this, you could just stay and fuck me like you said you would, hm?” he pleaded, all brightly doe eyed and feigned innocence.
“I never said that.” you spat.
“No?” he placed a finger on his chin, pensive “Funny, I could swear you said ‘Fuck you’.”
You widened your eyes at his nonsensical words. You opened your mouth to protest, but then immediately closed it, with a sigh.
There was simply no way to go against Leo when he wanted something and he knew that, if the wicked grin plastered on his face was anything but a sign.
He grabbed your hands and pulled you towards his bed.
“Next time, Honor Roll, you better think twice before ignoring me.” he declared, and you begrudgingly agreed. You had learned it the hardest way.
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Can you write the DMC boys with a half-devil fem reader who still has problem controlling her demonic half and keeping it in line?
Like her demonic side can easily be triggered by her strongest emotions ranging from sorrow, fear and anger. If her emotions reaches a certain point, the demonic will take advantage to take over, tearing itself out of its host to make its presence known to its victims.
Or it can be because of irregular hormone patterns, which can explain how she can devil trigger during that time of the month randomly
The first time she triggered, it was when she had found out about her father’s infidelity when she was a teenager and it triggered all emotions at once, specifically from disgust to sorrow to rage in a chronological order. Because of the irregular shifts of her emotions all happening at once, making it an easy passageway for the devil to take charge of her, turning it into a gore fest to enact its vengeance against her father and his mistress for wrecking her family.
(You know how teenager’s emotions are easily triggered by hormones right? So yeah, her demonic side had it easy when she was younger due to how emotional she was)
And now when she’s older, she had much more control over it, but sometimes, she finds it hard to control herself, considering she can possibly trigger due to surges of adrenaline. If she gets too excited, horny, etc then yeah…devil trigger time
And when she devil triggers…it’s going to be everyone’s problem
So yeah, God basically decided to play favorites and chose a woman whose emotions and hormones that are easily triggered to be able to shift into a homicidal devil-spawn who lives off of goring some poor bastards that may or may have not accidentally breathed way too loud to its liking and now everyone had to deal with it
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P/S: Her devil trigger form looks just like Chainsaw man from the manga with the same name if u don’t mind

Of course!
Sparda boys + V x Fem!Struggling half-devil!Reader headcannons
¤ Dante ¤
-You're a real basketcase who could transform into a bloodthirsty devil at any given moment, so he's careful not to do anything that would send your emotions into overdrive.
-Still, things like this are hard to prevent, and you do end up Truggering quite frequently.
-Dante has found a way to tie you down and keep you from causing too much trouble, but it's a pain in the butt and usually ends with him sporting several major injuries.
-Your demon has taken a liking to him, though, and over time, opts for a less violent, yet extremely draining activity until it calms down and you go back to normal, if you know what I mean.
-Dante does his best to keep up, but that demon is powerful, it's exhausting even him, the legendary devil hunter.
-With persistence, however, you guys manage to get your demon side a little more under control, even if change if minimal.
■ Vergil ■
-Vergil saw how easy it was for you to lose control, and fearing for your own safety, he decided to train you.
-He works with you, helping you through any mental obstacles in the hopes that this will help you get a better grip on your literal tormentor.
-His ideas don't always work, but the majority of the time, they do.
-When your demon gets out, he won't try to restrain you because he knows that will just make you more agitated. Instead, he somehow gets your Triggered self to sit down with him and just talk (or growl) your issues out.
-Vergil is the only one who can keep your Devil Trigger from going on a bloodthirsty killing spree, and he's all the more terrifying for that.
□ Nero □
-Nero can sense when you're about to Trigger and tackles you right as you turn.
-This keeps your devil form from rocketing off at the speed of light, which, if allowed to happen, is very bad.
-Sometimes he has to use his own DT to keep yours pinned to the ground. This whole situation looks stupid as hell, but at least it works.
-He gives both you and your DT plenty of hugs and encouraging words to try and calm you down.
-This works, really well, and over time, your DT becomes noticably more docile around him.
-It's still insanely violent towards everyone else, so Nero needs to put you into isolation as soon as your Trigger, or there will be bloodshed.
● V ●
-V was rather frightened of you very large and obviously insanely powerful DT when he first saw it.
-Over time, however, V grews to find your DT beautiful, in its own gargoyle-ish way.
-He reminded himself whenever he gets scared that it was still you under all that and that he should try to help you instead of cowering in fear.
-So he tried, and even though there was little he could do given his physical condition, with his words. he managed to get you to stay wit him instead of running off.
-Your DT is now as calm with him as his own familiars are with him. It would be cute, if you weren't a hulking monster.
-V tries his best to keep your emotions under control, but when hormones kick in, he can only stand back and watch, hoping your DT recognizes him and chooses to stay by his side.
#Dmc#Dmc5#devil may cry#devil may cry 5#dmc dante#dmc vergil#dmc nero#dmc v#dmc5 dante x reader#dmc5 dante#dmc5 vergil#dmc5 nero#dmc5 v#dante x reader#vergil x reader#nero x reader#v x reader#dmc dante x reader#dmc vergil x reader#dmc nero x reader#dmc v x reader#dmc5 v x reader#headcanons#dmc x reader#dmc x reader headcannons#Requested#thanks for requesting#icycoldninja writes
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Living with Borderline Personality Disorder: My Journey of Self-Discovery
As I sit down to write this blog post, I'm filled with a mix of emotions - anxiety, sadness, but also hope and determination. The last few images I've shared have been centered around Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), self-awareness, and the importance of understanding and empathy.
For me, this topic is deeply personal. I've been living with BPD for many years, and it's been a journey of ups and downs, twists and turns. There have been times when I've felt like my emotions are spiraling out of control and I'm powerless to stop them.
But there have also been times of great joy, of deep connection and intimacy with others, of feeling like I'm on top of the world. It's a rollercoaster of extreme emotions, and it can be exhausting.
One of the most challenging aspects of living with BPD is the stigma and misunderstanding that surrounds it. People often view BPD as a "crazy" or "unstable" person, someone who is prone to outbursts and mood swings.
But the reality is far more complex. BPD is a serious mental illness that affects millions of people around the world. It's characterized by intense emotional dysregulation, impulsive behavior, and unstable relationships.
For me, living with BPD means constantly struggling to regulate my emotions. It means feeling like I'm walking on eggshells, never knowing when the next emotional storm will hit.
It means struggling to maintain healthy relationships, because my intense emotions and impulsive behavior can be overwhelming for others. It means I’m constantly feeling like I'm a burden to those around me, like I'm too much to handle.
As someone living with BPD, I've encountered my fair share of hurtful comments and misconceptions. But there's one phrase that never fails to cut deep: "Stop using BPD as an excuse."
Those words are like a punch to the gut, leaving me feeling winded and vulnerable. It's as if the person speaking is implying that I'm somehow faking my struggles, that I'm using my diagnosis as a cop-out or a way to avoid taking responsibility for my actions.

But the truth is, living with BPD is not easy. It's really is a constant struggle to regulate my emotions, to manage my relationships, and to navigate the complexities of everyday life. And when I try to explain myself, to help others understand what I'm going through, I'm met with skepticism and dismissal.
It's not just the words themselves that hurt, but the underlying message they convey. It's as if the person speaking is saying, "I don't believe you. I don't think you're really struggling. You're just making excuses."
Those words are damaging because they imply that I'm not worthy of understanding or compassion. They imply that I'm somehow flawed or defective, that I'm not good enough.
But the truth is, I am enough. I am worthy of love, compassion, and understanding, just like anyone else. And when I try to explain myself, I'm not making excuses – I'm trying to connect, to find common ground, and to build bridges of understanding.
So, to those who would say, "Stop using BPD as an excuse," I will say: “Please, try to understand. Try to see things from my perspective, to walk a mile in my shoes. I'm not making excuses – I'm fighting to be heard, to be seen, and to be understood.”
But despite the challenges, I've learned to live with BPD. I've learned to recognize the signs of an impending emotional storm, and to take steps to calm myself down.
I've learned to communicate more effectively with others, to express my needs and feelings in a way that's clear and respectful. I've learned to prioritize self-care, to take care of my physical and emotional needs.
And I've learned to be kind to myself, to practice self-compassion and understanding. I've learned to recognize that I'm not alone, that there are millions of others out there who are struggling with BPD.
As I look back on the images I've shared, I'm reminded of the importance of self-awareness and empathy. It's so easy to get caught up in our own struggles and challenges, to forget that others are struggling too.
But when we take the time to understand and empathize with others, we create a ripple effect of kindness and compassion. We build stronger, more resilient relationships, and we create a more supportive and inclusive community.
So let's keep talking about BPD, about mental health, and about the importance of self-awareness and empathy. Let's keep sharing our stories, our struggles, and our triumphs.
Let's create a world where people feel supported and empowered, rather than stigmatized or ashamed. A world where we can be our authentic selves, without fear of judgment or rejection.
And to those who are living with BPD, I see you. I hear you. And I believe you. You are not alone, and you are not defined by your diagnosis. You are strong, resilient, and worthy of love and compassion. Keep fighting, keep striving, and know that you are enough.
#understanding#mental health#mental health awareness#mental health advocate#bpd facts#bpd#actually bpd#bpd vent#bpd thoughts#bpd problems#bpd feels#bpd stuff#bpd blog#borderline personality disorder#actually borderline#borderline blog#borderline problems#borderline thoughts#living with borderline#borderline things#being borderline#borderline pd#borderline culture is#borderline personality problems#borderline personality traits#borderline posting#connection#not excuses#no excuses#understanding diagnosise
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She calls Harry about his questionable lyrics but when she becomes bffs with Niall she’s gonna be calling him about the heartbreaking lyrics once she finds Flicker😭
Hiii lovey!! Oh god I feel for her when she discovers Flicker the song and the album 🥺🙈 💖
-find all things Southern Comfort here✨
Imagine if she’s listening to it with Harry like let’s say Paper Houses comes on her “Precious Babies” playlist that she made of all their solo stuff. Harry is sitting in her living room and she’s in the kitchen just waiting for her timer to go off for a batch of brownies or something and she hears Niall sing “so turn your head…and let us go..” and she just loses it because it’s her first time hearing the song and it’s so pretty but also so damn heartbreaking. So naturally Harry shoots up off the couch and goes into the kitchen and at first he doesn’t know why she’s upset but that doesn’t really matter he just wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her into a hug. Then he hears what song is playing and it clicks for him, he kinda always knew when she made her way to Niall’s stuff this would be her reaction to it because he just writes some extremely emotional songs. She would just let Harry hold her for a bit before she wipes her eyes and he loosens his hold on her so she can reach into her back pocket and grab her phone.
“Niall James Horan you better explain yourself.” Is all she’d say once the Irishman answers her FaceTime call, she would turn around in Harry’s arms so her back is against his chest and Niall is just wide eyed at her puffy eyes and red cheeks but he can faintly hear his song playing in the background giving him some sort of idea why she’s upset with him. “Muffin…why is this song so sad?” Her voice would be low and a little scratchy from crying and Niall would struggle not to get get upset over the fact his song somehow managed to make her this sad and he also would decide right then and there that he doesn’t like how his nickname sounds when she’s sad. He’d look behind her and of course she’d notice so she’d lift the phone up a bit so Harry was now in view as well.
“Yeah Niall…explain yourself…why’s this song so bloody sad?” Harry would ask but Niall would just roll his eyes at his bestfriend because he can see Harry trying his best to hold back a smile as he playfully glares at him through the phone. “Making her cry while she’s baking…that’s not very polite mate.” Harry would add earning him a middle finger from Niall who then would get a glare from her making his cheeks get pink because even though she wasn’t Niall’s girlfriend or whatever it is she is of Harry’s, he still doesn’t like getting fussed at by her.
#southern comfort extras#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles series#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#Harry styles x southern!reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles fic#harry styles#one direction fanfiction#my little lanky baby#niall horan#my little irish marshmallow
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Hi honey, I have to say I love your stuff. You write absolutely great. Could you do a headcannon on BoB and what type of love would you give them? I mean love at first sight, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, etc. I'd be happiest with Winters and Nixon and Speirs, but do what you will. Thank you.
A/n: here you go my love. When I finally re read the request I realized you might have wanted the pov's reversed but it was too late. Hopefully it's not too bad. I will happily switch it to reader pov if you wish.
Warnings:fluff
Masterlist
Richard winters
-friends to lovers. I don't think that this man thought of romance when he first met you. Attractive? Most definitely. However he had bigger things preoccupying his mind. Yet somehow at some point, you wiggled your way to being one of his best friends. Don't tell nix. Something about you practically scrambled his brain. He doesn't know when in the friendship he fell or if he fell in the very beginning. But when he realized just how much he loved you it was like he jumped off a cliff without a parachute. He knew right then and there you were it for him. He probably felt nervous telling you due to the fact that he never gave off the impression that he likes you. But let's just say the feelings were reciprocated.
"Dick, I have been flirting with you this whole time."
"Really??"
Lewis nixon
- love at first sight. This man took one look at you and said yes. He may not immediately start flirting with you out of respect, but he will damn well be tied to your finger. Will always open doors for you, and give you his coat when you're cold. So many acts of services. At one point you two were at a bar and some private made his way to your side to start a flirty conversation where he swears he got to hands'y. He knew that you were single but he was extremely jealous nonetheless. Eventually he had to leave to get some air. You followed shortly to catch up with him. You confronted him asking what has gotten into him as of late. He never wanted it to come out like this but it sort of just spilled out of him. He rambled on about his feelings before you cut him off with a kiss and a huge grin on your face.
"Shut up nix and take me on a date"
Ronald speirs
-Distance attraction, I don't know what to call it, this is the closest I can get. It just feels right. Basically, Speirs isn't quite love at first sight, he's the guy who needs to really get to know you to start building a relationship like that. However this man has a MASSIVE crush on you. But he's too prideful to say anything seeing how simping for someone isn't exactly in Ron's profile. He just admires you from a distance while simultaneously stuffing his emotions deep down. Much better in his book. Yet he still does his very best to be by your side at every moment possible even though he spends a lot of time trying not to think about how perfect you are. It's you who makes the first move. You obviously like him and you know he does too. It's obvious to everyone but no-one says a single word. And before you can finish telling him if he wants to go out some time, he's already agreeing.
"Yes"
"What?"
"You free Friday?"
Carwood lipton
-childhood friends to lovers. He was the boy next door. You two were friends from first grade through college. Sharing secrets, sleepovers, getting into mischief. Car started crushing on you when you two were teenagers. Said crush continued all the way until you two volunteer to join the paratroopers. War was hell but you seemed to make it just a little bit more manageable. His life in the war picked up significantly and he had a freight train worth of responsibility placed on his shoulders. Yet you never left his side. It wasn't until Austria that he confessed his feelings. He almost felt sick when he told you in fear of losing his best friend. It was short sweet at straight to the point. You were silent for what felt like an eternity. Lip almost took off in fear of rejection. He was stopped in his tracks by the sound of your laughter. He turned to hear you laughing with the biggest smile on your face.
"Clifford carwood Lipton, do you know how long I've been waiting for those words"
Joseph Leibgott
-Enemies to lovers. Your relationship started off Rocky. Your personality clashed and having a civilized conversation was seemingly impossible. Every time your paths crossed it was filled with banter, insults and tension. Sometimes it got to the point where someone needed to intervene. When you would walk into the same room that Joe would be in it's like the air seemed to thicken. The cold stares and passive aggressive comments. As the war progressed your comments never faulted but the tension you ask? It could be felt by an entire room. And all that hate seemed to not leave as bad as a taste in your mouth. Joe knew from the start that he hated and loved you. You know the type of enemies to lovers where it's like 'she's mine' and 'who did this to you?' It's giving that. He got so fed up with replacements trying to whisk you away so he simply grabbed you by the waist and kissed you.
"Don't lever leave with one of them alright sweetheart?"
"Wasn't planning on it"
#band of brothers#band of brothers fanfic#band of brothers headcanon#band of brothers x reader#richard winters#lewis nixon#ronald speirs#carwood lipton#joe liebgott#richard winters x reader#lewis nixon x reader#carwood lipton x reader#joseph liebgott x reader
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Veilguard 3/?
slowly, slowly, I'm getting better at combat
it is, however, a bad idea to start with ranged attack companions only and have the melee companions enter the stage much later - the way the enemies focus solely on Rook make playing a ranged character really, really frustrating, especially at an early stage. DODGE DODGE DODGE DODGE attack DODGE DODGE DODGE
the lack of respect for previous established lore and worldbuilding actually makes me appreciate Inquisition more
which is strange because I always thought that DAI was the weakest game, writing-wise (though I've spent a looooot of time playing it)
Inquisition was very chantry-focused, but that actually tied in very neatly with the back story. In retrospect, it gave the game some much-needed direction
the companions are all palatable but bland. They were a bit overdone in DAO, extremely but gloriously extra in DA2, and interesting and distinctive (and partly divisive) in DAI
same goes for Rook. The inquisitor was also lacking a personality and was heavily criticized for it, which was why I had actually been hoping for a prologue much like the one the Warden got (or Hawke). Does Rook even have a family? Who the fuck knows. Makes it even harder to develop an emotional tie to them
the Lighthouse feels lifeless, Skyhold was much more interesting
in short, there are very few aspects where I feel that DAV actually comes out on top of the list. Ask again later
for all the diverse options in the character creator, they somehow didn't manage to include a cup size larger than B. I imagine they probably thought of it like a fuck you to that part of the gamer crowd that so loves to objectify female characters in video games, like they tried hard to be the antithesis to the male gaze, but as a big-breasted woman, i feel it's fairly ridiculous that you can add vitiligo to your skin and have six varieties of freckles, bulges, and top surgery scars, but limit the breast size. FYI: A lot more women in Europe and the US have a C, D, or E cup respectively (European sizes) than A.
I get that they chose to only include characters from previous games whose fate was unchangeable through player choice, like Dorian or Isabella, but it feels like such a waste to just have the rest of them fade into obscurity. It creates a void. I think they should have taken the risk of making Veilguard less independent and more like a follow-up to the rest of the franchise. Then again, they did what they thought would create the biggest sales. BUT it would have raised the replayability score for sure because you would have played a different rook for each of your Dragon Age Keep world states.
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