#i just remembered i forgot to add a part

[cogneartive]

“i dont like drawing barok van zieks hes hard to draw” unfortunately for me i am a true castlevania geezer

[pineappleudh]

*You shouldn't have done that.

@floofanflurr

Stumbled across this DTIYS and decided to give it a go, with some creative liberties obviously.

It was really fun, ive never drawn in the undertale battle style before so i was surprised at how easy it felt, granted it still took a little while but nowhere near as long as i expected.

So, uhh, yeah. Papyrus is cool, challenge was fun, hope you enjoy.

[aliusfrater]

re nick's post + his tags + my tags. i feel like although the parentification was definitely on dean especially re taking care of sam but there's a level of... mental abuse in the dynamics of his arguments with sam as well as how he treated leaving sam alone while he and dean hunted regarding the fact that sam and dean are his sons/children until john's actions become abuse. and dean definitely adopted/emulated/acted on behalf of it; suddenly sam was the one responsible for tacking the family back together despite john kicking him out or to dean, sam and john's arguing was also suddenly sam's responsibility to stop or end or upkeep a level of respect within despite the parent-child dynamic. this also feeds over into sam's guilt and forgiveness and faith complexes and it's also how the dynamic of sam choosing the winchester familial dynamic over anything else works. basic john-sam enjoyer lore, sure, but what's particularly interesting to me is that it's kind of similar to the way the sam vs sammy dichotomy works. sam is john's son that's infantilised and needs to be protected Until someone raises their voice vs sammy is dean's little brother that's infantalised and needs to be protected Until sam encroaches upon him

[c-kiddo]

it feels like a lot of people look at him and go ‘teehee my fav who’s committed war crimes!! <3’ but. only want to appreciate him as the archetype of ‘vaguely problematic fav’ and not actually engage with the specific things he’s done. i woke up like 5 seconds ago so maybe that’s not worded perfectly but that’s the vibes i get if that makes sense

no dont worry i get what you mean, that is kind of the vibe. and to be fair i feel like the cast kind of ended up doing that later on too, like after that plot was done the reaction is Aw he's such a problematic little baby hotboi (typing that feels like when adults call a dog a doggo i hate to say it but it pains me) lets draw him as a chibi eating soup. like no he was able to get away with what he did (giving away the beacons, working With ikithon and ludinus and igniting a war that destroyed sm peoples lives), frame another innocent man for it who ended up tortured and given to the empire as a prisoner too, lied to all of tmn about it to their faces, putting them in danger by asking them to retrieve the beacons for him when he knew where they were and who had them. . he got away with this (in the plot, to the cast and fandom) because he's a young, attractive, extremely wealthy, privileged and politically powerful man. like ?

[sega-saturn-arcade]

i think about this sometimes but I post content of mes that are different from the canon. I draw specific things with me. sometimes if i’m proud, i share it with a wider audience. i think it should be a “who cares” because it’s ME, but I worry about how people will interpret my infodump or my art.

i have always been a big, big advocate for media literacy and looking into characterization deeper and understanding a character from another perspective. i think people dumbing down a character to, “awhh wehh my sweetie he’s nice deep down he’s just mean on the outside” especially when it’s a villian makes me rip my hair out.

But it’s different when it’s kin stuff. Maybe the person portraying themselves like that is because they DID feel that way.

But I can’t draw something or infodump about my life and state, “by the way this is me and how i acted i’m not just disregarding the canon character i promise” every time because outside of kin spaces people don’t take kindly to fictionkin

because i acknowledge the canon character. whether or not i go “well that’s wrong and actually they [i] wouldn’t do that” it’s still somehow weaved into the canon character’s behavior because i still do my best to understand it

and the other issue is like, the whole “just make an oc at that point.” But i’m NOT an oc. I am the guy, even if i remember being vastly different. there’s not a point in drawing kin art if im not drawing ME, is there?

i just wish to not come across as someone who ignores the canon and thinks they know better about the media when they just really do not put the care to learn jack shit about the media they’re consuming

[jitteryjive]

i need to remake my cup bros ref… both cup and human designs… it’s been almost a year(?) and i’ve developed the headcanons and i would like to share with the class!!! (i wrote thirty tags. Please help me)

[bumblebyaf]

all the times ruby rose caught me off guard aka scenes that made me love her more (v1-9) 

[meatriarch]

MEATRIARCH OVERVIEW.

m'kay so -- mostly putting this together as both a quick look for new faces & a lil' refresher for those who've been following for a while but also as a general overview on not just how i run things but also on my muses, their portrayals, some blog updates, and so on! ♡ meant for clarity & hopefully ensure there's no confusion about certain things i may mention on the dash but always feel free to shoot me a message / ask for anything further! ♡

MARIA AURORA FLORES.

starting off with my main girl, my pride & joy, my sunshine incarnate. i write maria as someone very warm & with a whole mess of love to shower on those she cares about. she is achingly sweet, doting, affectionate; she adores her friends, adores her mama & sister, has a complicated relationship with her father. i've done quite a bit to flesh her out beyond what gun's put out for her in the slightest & i love where she's grown over the months since adding her onto the roster. she is my main / primary muse -- so know i constantly yap and ramble about her, i have headcanons and lore posts sprinkled all over the blog & the archived blog. i love & adore her as a muse and she's become both incredibly special to me & easily one of my absolute favorite characters to write as. that being said, with how much i've added to her, i view my portrayal of her as more oc at this point than a character of gun -- unfridged my girl, yanked her away from them and took off with her lmao alot of what i've built with her was both greatly helped by the dynamics weaved together with my affiliates / mains' portrayals which i'll get to later on ♡ but know some things may not carry over into interactions between my maria & any duplicates of my affiliates' muses!

ANA FLORES.

i haven't gone through much writing for ana yet -- but know when i do speak of ana in a general sense on here? i am specifically referring to my own ana & my personal flores' family lore! if i refer to other ana's in future posts i'll most likely note so either by, for example, ' renee's ana ' or if its to that point in plotting, then with a dynamics tag on the post! otherwise assume when i'm yapping about ana in general i'm referring to my own portrayal of her by default! c: ( note that all you cute ana mutuals are still more than welcome to interact with posts about her / her & maria / the flores' ♡ just something to keep in mind if i refer to her in a general sense in posts! )

DANNY ALEJO - OSORIO.

ya'll may know our just some guy danny by gun's canon of him -- danny gaines. the danny here however is technically my own portrayal of danny gaines that i developed before he was officially dropped & we got his last name. should i interact with others writing danny gaines? i'm completely gucci with considering my danny & gaines as entirely separate characters!

* correction : i now consider danny to be entirely severed from guns danny gaines and is, now, an oc fully. he is entirely his own character. otherwise, the speedrun of danny is as follows : danilo alejo-osorio is mexican-colombian, befriended maria in their early teens. he comes from a broken family with a very fractured & a.busive father, his mother returned to colombia and started another family there believing he'd have a better life staying in the states. he went through a very rough period hanging with a real shitty crowd of so-called friends, got into a shitton of fights, broke into homes and businesses with them, stole shit, broke shit, just in general not great influences. a break-in went wrong, his "friends" scattered, and he was arrested when the police showed up, and spent time in juvie for it. none of those friends ever came by. his father didn't, none of his family did. maria, her mother and ana, instead, were his constant visitors. and it was her coming to see him, her encouragement and push for him to do better is what finally made him realize he needed to turn his shit around. at the point of maria going missing & the house, danny's going to trade school by the southern coast for ship & underwater welding courses & training. he & maria are best friends. he is her ride, die, kill. gun noted once upon a time how strong dannys' devotion to her is -- my danny is very much devoted to her. he would kill for her without hesitation -- and not in his dire au's, even, but just in general. danny would do anything for those he cares about. any of the friendgroup.

THE FLORES FAMILY.

my personal take / lore is as follows basically : papa flores ( ramón ignacio ) & mama flores ( carmen ainara ) were long-term sweethearts whose marriage and little family seemed perfectly ideal. however, the closer that their eldest daughter, maria, got to her teen years, the sicker carmen started to become. she attempted to keep it under wraps, hush-hush from the girls' to not worry or scare them. but she was diagnosed with a lung disease ( p.ulmonary f.ibrosis fingerguns @ silver for same braincell lmao ) that is considered ( esp in the 70s likely ) to be terminal. while the girls' weren't aware of her being ill to that degree, ramon fully was. and the stress of coming to terms with his wife being sick and finding out that she may eventually pass due to it, so he claims, "caused" him to start an affair. carmen does find out, and ramon removes himself from the flores' family home to move in with his affair partner. maria, being forgiving and more gentle-hearted compared to ana, attempted to still paint him in a positive light so that ana wouldn't resent him. tried to give him the benefit of the doubt -- that he at least still did love them all. that he'd keep the promises to still be active in their lives, still show up when he said he would -- however, there's only so many excuses, so many promises broken, so many calls never ringing through, before that hope crumbles. ana would witness both her mother & maria deal with their fathers' heartbreak through closed bedroom doors, and it'd only make her despise him more for it. when maria later goes missing, ramon returns to try and help in whatever ways he can -- and ana is very unreceptive to him being there. he lost his chance in her eyes to play "dad" to them. and she makes it known clearly to him how much she resents him and reminds him he's got no place in their family, anymore. that he's there ONLY to help find maria and not to expect shit from any of them.

THE HEWITTS & THE SAWYERS.

by default, i say a giant fuck you to the difference in continuity's when it comes to the family! i write the hewitt's as an extension of the sawyer ( or, slaughter ) family tree. the hewitts & sawyers connected when luda mae married charlton hewitt sr. luda, in my personal canon, was born into the family through one of grandpa sawyers' many kids' he's taken in over his long-fuckin'-ass lifespan lmao alot of the family dynamics that are my canon here stem from lamb & i's back & forths. i find blending the various iterations of the family -- from originals to remakes etc -- as all just extended families to each other alot easier to work around and opens the door to more interactions with canons' from other versions of tcsm! c: i'm currently slow-piecing together a family tree of the hewitt-sawyers based on that blended concept. to the sawyers, luda is referred to by aunt or grandma ( sometimes ma luda, even ) and thomas is referred to as cousin tommy.

THOMAS & THE TITLE OF "L.EATHERFACE".

i was going to make this its own post but i'll add to this one instead. but with the idea of the hewitts & sawyers being just on massive family unit? of course there's the question of how the fuck do both thomas & bubba ( or other iterations of LF ) work then? i'd argue its primarily due to the fact that those who don't personally know them both don't know their actual names, and simply refer to them by the most notable feature -- the masks. with my thomas, yes, he does take faces of victims and he does wear them. however. thomas' skin condition -- flesh-eating disease / tumor growths on his face -- is why he wears his animal-leather half-mask. that half mask is his primary mask. he is almost always wearing that or varying versions of it. when thomas DOES skin someones' face to wear? it is almost always out of rage. hatred. it's done to intimidate. to unsettle. its from back in september but, one of my thomas' replies to kels notes this about thomas! the masks of both animal & human leather are still very much a part of thomas as i write him -- but, when it comes to the hewitt-sawyers being one family unit & thomas & bubba co-existing? "l.eatherface" becomes a title in a sense -- two giant motherfuckers who wear masks?? they get confused for one another. despite thomas being arguably much larger both being beefy & being 6'9 compared to bubba. they both don't really stray far from home. how often do outsiders get a chance to see them both separately let alone close to one another? likely not a common sight. it'd be very easy to spot one of them and then assume they are one in the same, honestly. that's how i go about things here, at least! it ties into more, again, of the back-&-forths lamb & i have minecrafted especially but, i'm all for altering that for specific interactions for those who don't want to meddle with all of that! (:

NANCY.

spooky momther will retain what her abilities have grown into by my personal headcanons across the board! however there are certain points to how i portray her that, from any posts about her i've made, are tied into lamb's johnny and so know that there will be differences in how she may be with other johnnys! i'm all ears to how different nancy & johnny's relationship can turn out! if theres anything i feel overlaps with other dynamics of theirs, i will let you know and we can work something else out c:

GENERAL PORTRAYAL NOTE.

mentioned it already but : all muses here are very heavily canon-divergent & built out from their canon lore by my own brainrot going wild with them all. with that in mind, i do just about consider each of my portrayals of these muses as my own oc's at this point with how much i've added onto them / built them up from literal nothing like in maria's case. i'm more than happy to either adapt how i write any of them to better fit into anyone elses' takes! and i'm more than happy to welcome more into the brainrot that i've minecrafted with the flores' or the hewitt-sawyers etc! that's something to come from plotting however! if we haven't really spoken ooc / etc then i default to a more general vision of the characters for the time being. i'm all up for taking different routes with new writing partners so please don't be shy about reaching out! c: if theres anything that conflicts with pre-existing personal lore of mine or is too similar to plots or dynamics i have already, i'll let you know and try to offer alternatives!

AFFILIATE PORTRAYALS & RELATED AU'S.

i have a few writing partners who i am affiliated with & with their respective tcsm canon muses. kels' leland, rae's connie, & lamb's johnny -- when i refer to leland/lee or connie or johnny in general on my posts, do know i am specifically referring to their portrayals as my general lore across my blog takes their muses & the dynamics built between them into account ♡ like i mentioned in ana's lil section, i'll start to make note in posts when i am referring to duplicate johnnys / lelands / connie's / etc for when im mentioning others' portrayals specifically! by default though i am always referring to my affiliates' portrayals when i post c: just wanted to clarify that though in case it was at all confusing or unclear ♡ affiliate verses here are as follows so far : - cold case ( cc / maria's dire au ; with lamb's johnny ) - no one saved you / we saved us ( nosy / wsu / maria & leland's joint dire au ; with kels' leland & lamb's johnny ) - oath binded ( maria & johnny's red string & reincarnation au / with lamb's johnny ) and then the still babiest dire au for my danny, - choke chained ( with lamb's johnny ). these verses, for me, are strictly worked with lamb ( & with kels for nosy/wsu ) -- meaning i'm not writing in them or doing similar au's with other portrayals of johnnys or lelands! again in case i haven't been clear on it before and it causes any confusion or anything! ♡

MARIA & JOHNNY.

i am not going to be shipping maria in any romantic / intimate sense nor am i open to any prolonged captive plots & interactions with other portrayals of johnny sawyer. those types of dynamics & interactions i've decided from this point on to close that for my maria to lamb's johnny ( @johnnysslaughter ) ♡ there has been a lot of plotting & build up between my portrayal of maria & lamb's portrayal of johnny and their varying dynamics across verses / au's and their different trajectories. and because of how many different iterations of their dynamic has been pieced together, i personally am not going to be taking other plots / dynamics with other johnny's that fall under the same umbrella as the dynamic between our maria & johnny do -- again meaning, i personally won't be shipping romantically / intimately nor will I take on plots that run parallel to cold case / no one saved you re: maria being taken captive for a prolonged period of time with other johnnys. alot of this decision on my part is very much due to how much we have developed them together -- another big part of it is my trust & comfort level with lamb to explore those dynamics between maria & johnny. this doesn't mean we are exclusive to one anothers' portrayals -- i am happy to write with other johnny's! and lamb is welcome to interact with other maria's! but from this point onward, i will only ship maria & johnny with lamb. ♡

[system-architect]

thinking about the mlm and transmasc rep situation again and i think the thing that gets me about it is how exceedingly easy and completely inconsequential it would be for a single writer to just sprinkle in a bit of rep. like a bulk of the queer rep we already have is via random npc dialogue out in city maps or festivals or something and is not even voice acted. you literally have to change NOTHING and dont even need to pay for extra voice lines to just change a single pronoun or word in some npc's pop-up text from "girlfriend" to "boyfriend". this is not a replacement for centered, featured representation with actually memorable chararacters played by queer actors or so on, but it'd be SOMETHING and it's amazing in a sad way that we have like actually nothing right now

[alaskacoolkid1]

Weird olimar design with vocaloid inspo

[fiendslothful]

Huh. That sure was a movie.

[shwarmii]

i never realized Viktor was missing from Disenchanted Fashions before (or at least tumblr isnt showing him) and i am having so much fun with that bit of freedom towards his wardrobe jfc

[ily-no-romo]

So true!!! And in my writing specifically, the autistic influence and aroace influence often overlap in how I write friendships. Because I’m aroace, I tend to want close friendships with people or a queer platonic relationship. And because I’m autistic (with mostly neurodivergent friends), I don’t really understand what a ‘normal’ friendship looks like to most people. Not just the the closeness but the timeline and way of looking at another person.

something they don’t tell you about being autistic is that every character you write WILL end up autistic/autistic-coded whether you like it or not

[coffeebanana]

some things i've been thinking about (this was supposed to be separate ideas but now i guess it's a rough fic outline in bullet points kasdbfksbjd):

marinette telling adrien the truth YEARS later, after everything's settled down and the butterfly's been recovered and their identities are revealed

maybe they live together. maybe he was getting ready to propose

after his initial shock, anger, time he needs to process, mostly he just wants to understand WHY she lied

when she tells him the she just couldn't bear to hurt him any more than she already had to by telling him his father died, and some part of adrien sees that as his own failing--surely if he'd been stronger, if he'd been the kind of person she thought could handle the truth, then she would have given it

maybe they go to couple's therapy. one of the exercises they're given is to practice honesty with each other and marinette goes... a little overboard

adrien thinks it's sweet, at first. until he realizes she's scared to leave a single second of her day unaccounted for. she's stressing out because she forgot to tell him something minor and he doesn't want him to think she just decided not to tell him something again

he realizes just how much she's been beating herself up about this all these years. just how much she's always loved him despite her mistakes

he remembers the ring he has stashed upstairs

and maybe it's not the time for proposals. but all he can think is that even at their worst, he still wants forever with her

of course, he's never been one for keeping his affections to himself. so he tells her.

it's not a question, it's not an offer. it's a fact: I want to spend the rest of my life with you. i want to marry you. she looks at him like he's crazy, so he pulls out his ultimatum. but i need you to forgive yourself first

all these years, marinette's been secretly awaiting her punishment. secretly awaiting having to pay for what she's done. forgiving herself was never on the table

do you forgive me, she asks in a quiet voice

i don't know, he says, and marinette's heart sinks until he adds, but i know i want to

and in the end, it's not so hard for him to get there. for him to forgive one decision she made under the worst possible circumstances. one mistake in the midst of all the ways she's made him feel safe and wanted and loved. all the times she's held his hand or helped wipe his tears, all the times she's let him do the same for her

when it comes time to exchange vows, for better or worse is already something they've agreed to

[charliemwrites]

Hiiiii! So I’m not super thrilled with this but I’ve been having a time of it at work so I worked on this when I could 🙃

Not sure if there will be a second part yet tbh we’ll see!

Edit: almost forgot to add that the gorgeous divider below is by @gildui they have some absolutely beautiful cod themed dividers.

Carrion

Reader comes back Wrong

Content: implied/referenced torture, injury, suicide reference/implicated “pact” (by background character), lack of wound care

The breakup was bad.

Not in the top 3 of Simon’s worst nightmare-inducing memories - but likely top 5. He certainly wakes up chest aching and eyes burning often enough for it to be a solid contender. He’s haunted by tears that dripped like acid and the cracks in your voice deafening him.

On bad days, he thinks he can still see you shuffling down the halls, eyes sunken and red-rimmed, dark circles and chapped lips. Anger giving way to resignation giving way to pain and sadness. The rest of the team tight-lipped and wincing, no sides taken, shoulders and ears offered equally in commiseration.

Your misery wanted no company, though.

You didn’t tell Simon that you were leaving. Gaz let slip over a subdued but obligatory game of cards, you’d be gone for a long time - loaned out to Laswell.

Simon didn’t go to see you off. Didn’t ask why you were leaving or accuse you of being too immature to be on a team with him. He didn’t wish you good luck, stay safe with the rest of the team on the tarmac at 0-dark when you took off.

He should have.

Price says you’ll be gone for six months. Just six. It’s better this way, he reminds them when Johnny balks. His eyes are on Simon, though, when he adds that you need to get your head on straight, and you weren’t able to do it with them.

So. Six months.

Simon stops expecting you on his left. Stops smelling your shampoo lingering on bits of clothes he pretended not to notice you steal. He still dreams about you begging him not to push you away.

183 days come and go.

On day 184, Laswell sends word - your temporary team likes you quite a bit. They want you to stay on for one more month… one more mission… one more…

Six months turns to ten.

312 days since you left; since you were home.

The team hasn’t stopped leaving a space for you at their tables, right between Gaz and Price. You miss your own birthday. Laswell says she’ll pass along well wishes.

The situation changes. A target resurfaces. All hands on deck, including yours.

374 days. Twelve months and some change.

They don’t spend the holidays with you, but there’s a stack of presents waiting in Price’s office. Your mugs have collected dust in the back of the rec room cabinet.

Laswell says you’re still deployed on one last mission, return TBD. Soon, though.

487 days. Still TBD. Soon. Really. Just some loose ends to tie up.

561 days. There was some trouble during exfil but you’re alright. Just a bit of recovery.

You’re coming home.

590 days. You’ll land at 0700 tomorrow.

It’s been 591 days since Simon last saw you. Since any of them last saw you.

Laswell has come to deliver you personally, a kind of apology for keeping you away so long. She’s the first off the transport and you’re right behind her.

Your hair is shorter. Much, much shorter. There’s a new patch on your jacket - memento from your temporary team, Simon figures.

Apart from that, you look… almost exactly how you did when you left. Dark circles under your eyes, mouth drawn and tight. There’s invisible weight compressing your shoulders, urging them in and down. But you’re there again. Just the way he remembers.

(Why are you the way he remembers?)

“Long time, no see,” Gaz calls, reaching for you.

There’s half a beat, you blink. Hesitate.

Then you grin and reach back.

“Missed my pretty face, did you?” you reply.

Johnny laughs and brings you in for a hug. You twitch hug him back, patting his shoulder as you pull away.

“Good to have you back, Sergeant,” Price says, shaking your hand.

You turn to Simon, nod in greeting, expression pleasant. “Ghost.”

So that’s how it’ll be? Alright.

“Sergeant.”

That night, you go out for drinks with the team and Laswell. Simon goes along to show there are no hard feelings.

(Not that you seem to need reassurance. It’s not even that you’re not looking at him. You are. Whenever he speaks, the rare times he does, or if he shifts in his seat. Your gaze doesn’t linger or jerk away, you treat him like you do Johnny and Gaz and Price.)

When Johnny mixes up your usual for Price’s, you don’t even seem to notice. But Simon does.

“When did you start drinking whiskey?” he wonders.

You used to swear you’d never like it, claiming it tasted like boot polish and the “Boys Club” wasn’t worth the indigestion it gave you.

“Someone from my other team,” you say by way of explanation.

You don’t ask for another whiskey. Laswell gets the rest of your drinks for that night.

Simon turns into the rec room two days later and finds you already there. There’s only the light above the sink on, and you’re staring at the steady drip, drip, drip from the faucet. A cup of black coffee cools in your hand. You’re already wearing gloves.

“Sugar’s in the left now,” he calls.

Your head twitches, something pops in your neck.

“Oh, thanks,” you chirp, turning for the cabinet. “Sleep okay, LT?”

“‘Bout as well as I ever do,” he replies gruffly, sidling up next to you for the kettle.

You hum. There’s a yellow packet in your hand. (Didn’t you used to like the blue one?)

“I get that,” you sympathize.

He snorts. Since when?

“Do you?”

When he glances down, you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re trying (and failing) to get the sink to stop dripping.

“You know that’s been broken for ages,” he says.

At least as long as the 141 has been around. You tried to fix it once when you first joined up, too, with no luck.

“Right,” you say. A little too quickly, a little too agreeably. “Well, anyway, enjoy your tea, Lieutenant.”

You leave the packet of sugar behind. Unopened.

You’re back and it’s like it used to be - not just before you left, but before the breakup. Before there was ever anything to break up.

Your time away seems to have given you whatever space from Simon you were hoping for, because you act like there was never anything at all.

He’s half expecting, dreading, that you’ll pull him aside at some point. Ask for a word after dinner, or swing by his room before bed. Talk about the break up now that cooler heads prevail and 19 months have sanded down the rough feelings. Seek closure, maybe.

But you don’t. The weeks pass until a month has gone and you never exchange more than easy pleasantries with Simon. You give him space, give him privacy. Things you never used to give him much of before, for better or worse.

You fool around with Gaz and Johnny, trade quips with Price, and follow Simon’s orders. Train recruits. Write reports.

You’re back, better than ever.

So why does it feel like Simon’s still waiting for you to return?

You’re always dressed now, head to toe. Day or night, rain or shine. From the neck down you’re in full sleeves, long pants, boots and gloves.

It doesn’t occur to anyone until you’re sweating through your compression shirt in the gym. Wipe your shiny forehead for the dozenth time before Johnny says, “why not just take it off?”

“It’s not that bad,” you laugh, waving him off.

When you lie down to bench press, Simon notes the bottom of your shirt tucked tight into your waistband. He exchanges a glance with Johnny - he’s seen it too.

You used to dress in shorts and sports bras during exercise, a towel over your shoulder. In the common room, you’d mill in tank-tops and boxers. Even used to trot down the hall swaddled in a towel or robe, mumbling that you forgot a razor or some other toiletry before showering.

“What, did ye get an embarrassing tattoo or somethin’?” Johnny asks finally.

You blink at him, expression bemused. “A tattoo? Why do you think I have a tattoo?”

“Yer covered up like a nun on Sunday. It cannae be comfortable.”

You snort. “Just because you’re allergic to clothes, MacTavish…”

“Allergic?! Wha’s tha’ s’posed t’mean?!”

Gaz barks a laugh. You grin and continue your workout.

Simon tries not to be disturbed by the name “MacTavish” coming off your tongue for the first time since you met.

It’s your first mission since you’ve been back. You have new gear, a new handgun. Something’s been carved into the side of the barrel in Cyrillic, Simon can’t read it. A new callsign.

(“What kind of a name is Carry-on?” Johnny teases, but he doesn’t quite hide the unease in his eyes.

You snort and lace your boots tighter. The edge of you sleeve inches up, revealing the curve of a glossy scar that wasn’t there before.

“You’re one to talk Mister Maybelline.”)

Someone painted an upside down cross on the temple of your helmet with their finger. You thumb it before stuffing it over your head.

“You ready for this?” Gaz asks, knocking his knee into yours. The two of you have been paired together for this mission. (Was it Simon’s imagination, or did you look annoyed that you would have a partner?)

“Always,” you reply.

Simon doesn’t hear what happens, but Gaz looks shellshocked when you haul him into the helicopter during exfil. You shake him a bit once everything is secure and the bird’s in the air.

“Garrick,” you shout, “c’mon, where did he get you?”

It takes him a second but he blinks, offers his arm for your inspection. You move with a speed even Simon is impressed by, tearing into the nearby med kit almost viciously. Gaz is patched up in record time and you sit back with blood on your hands, barely even seem to notice as you wipe them carelessly on your pants.

(You used to be more squeamish, weren’t you? You used to be the last one they asked for medical care because seeing your teammates in pain made you nauseous.)

“What about you?” Gaz asks after a small eternity.

You yawn. “What about me?”

“You got nicked too, didn’t you?”

Simon takes a second look at you and now that Gaz mentions it, you’re soaked in blood. Wet patches on your vest, your pants, dripping down your boots. It takes him a moment to notice the tear in your thigh, shredded flesh visible when you rock with the wind turbulence.

“Did I?” you wonder, glancing down like you only just noticed it.

Johnny curses, reaches for you - but you wave him off.

“It’s just a scratch,” you reply. “Barely even feel it, no worries.”

Then why is it still bleeding?

When the team lands, you hop off the heli without so much as a wince. Droplets of blood lead all the way back to your room.

(When Simon asks Nikolai about the hand-etching on your gun, he says the word means “promise.”)

In the after-action report, your callsign isn’t “Carry-On.” It’s Carrion.

Laswell takes you off the mission two months later, a joint assignment with KorTac. They send three operators to work with TF141 - Stiletto, Konig, and Nikto.

On the transport to infil, Simon notices the Russian inspecting his handgun in a seat separated from the rest of the squad. He recognizes the Cyrillic carved into the barrel this time: Promise.

It’s an eerie, creeping suspicion. An anxious fog rolling in.

It’s not one single thing that trips an alarm in Simon’s head, but a steady collation of oddities over months. A single arhythmic beat, a note off key. Just once or twice, but over and over until he can’t notice anything else.

You act just like yourself except for all the minute ways you don’t.

You smile big and wide, sunshine bright, when they make a good joke. Your laugh is still the same, bubbling up in your throat, head thrown back. You smell the same when you pass Simon in the hall, shampoo and soap that’s haunted him for a year and a half.

It’s insidiously subtle; he can’t pinpoint what it is for the longest time. Your mannerisms are almost too practiced, the cadence of your voice too measured. A missing turn of phrase you often used, replaced by something unfamiliar.

Simon dismisses it as guilt-laden paranoia. The two of you ended on bad terms with a year and half worth of space between. He’s hardly one to gauge what’s normal for you anymore.

And besides, the few times someone else has noticed at those tiny yet all-too-obvious inconsistencies, you shrug it off as something you picked up while away.

But he catches Johnny’s brows furrow one afternoon as you light up a cig (after swearing for years that you’d never pick up the habit) and Simon knows he’s beginning to see it too.

“You ever notice,” Gaz begins slowly. You’re the only one missing from the rec room this evening, retired with a drawn-out yawn. “That Carrion always mentions being away, but never talks about it?”

Simon stills. Johnny’s eyes fly to Price, who’s grimly tapping at his crossword puzzle.

“The file’s redacted,” he says. He’s seen it too then, tried to investigate for himself.

“That’s normal for a mission like that,” Simon reasons carefully.

“I don’t mean the mission,” Price says. “I mean Carrion’s file.”

“This is a good movie,” you mumble from the armchair you’ve stolen from Price. “What’s it called?”

Simon exchanges glances with the rest of the team. No one points out that this is (used to be?) your favorite.

Price looks into the team you were loaned out to. All were KIA or remain MIA. All but one. His file has been scrubbed too, the only documents readable are discharge orders and a PMC contract, both associated with the callsign “Nikto.”

They’re running out of time.

Less than 36 hours on the clock with only one lead, and it’s a zealot with a suicide pact. Price and Laswell both took a crack at him with nothing to show for it. Even Ghost has gotten hardly anything and he’s running out of nails. With time, he might get something useful, but they don’t have much of that left.

In the anteroom looking into interrogation, you’ve been observing through the one-way glass with your hands in your pockets, head tilted, expression serene.

Price and Laswell are discussing strategy, contingencies. Gaz and Johnny are throwing in their two cents, but Simon… Simon is watching you.

Like medical, torture used to be your Achilles. You were trained like the rest of the team, but there was never any need for you to step into the room yourself. Hell, you were a last resort even for observation or emergency resuscitation. No one blamed you for having a weak stomach for information extraction.

But today, you glance over your shoulder and make eye contact with Laswell.

“I’ll handle it,” you say with an air of finality.

The room goes silent. Price opens his mouth, but it’s Laswell that speaks, voice hard with resignation.

“Do it.”

You don’t blink. “Yes, ma’am.”

You walk out the door without a backwards glance, shoulders loose but each step steady and purposeful.

“What the hell is going on, Kate?” Price demands.

Kate sighs, looks away as you enter the interrogation room.

“Let’s do this outside. It won’t take long to get that intel.”

The only thing she’s able to share is that you and your team were captured. For a long time. And then you’re already stepping out of the interrogation room, wiping your bloodied hands off on an old rag.

There’s an unusual glint in your eye, an unnatural stillness in your expression.

“Got what we need,” you announce cheerfully.

[sandwhitches]

ೃ༄ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐄? (𝐩𝐭. 𝐈𝐈)

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀: bokuto koutaro, akaashi keiji, iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tooru & sakusa kiyoomi

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰: how they pop the question! (hcs + drabbles)

𝗰𝘄: implied fem. reader, mentions of marriage tehehe, mushy corny top romance

𝗮/𝗻: part two yayyyy!!! i wanted to post this earlier in the day but i unfortunately have to be a functioning member of society from time to time blegh. iwa's part is dedicated to my lovely moot @froyaoya who just gets it. sorry for any typos!!! also working on requests from the event still hehehe

(read part 1 here!!!)

𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎

» Look at this man, this beautiful blessing of a man, and tell me this is not about to be the showiest proposal ever

» He’s asking you to marry him and he wants EVERYONE to know (in the purest way possible)

» You knew what you were getting yourself into

» Is he nervous? No, maybe, he doesn’t want to think about it, OKAY?!

» Thinks the perfect time is asking you right after MSBY wins at finals, but one of his teammates (because he told them the plan…obviously) is like what are you going to do if we lose???? He almost dies on the spot because he totally forgot that was a possibility whoops

» There’s an easy way around that problem! Just win, duh!

Your heart feels as if it could just beat out of your chest with excitement as the last set ends, MSBY reigning victorious. Mind swimming with unadulterated pride, you’re already halfway down to the court once others begin to flood it, nothing you want more but the man who is currently wading through a crowd in search of you. 

For a brief moment, you pause at the sidelines, unable to find him, then remember Bokuto was probably in the midst of one of many interviews or something else much more important than a simple post-game congratulatory hug. Your conjecture is quickly smashed by the call of your name, paired with your boyfriend’s big, shiny beam of pure joy as he opens his arms for you. You let out a huff of laughter, then hurry over, practically launching yourself into his hold. 

Koutaro exclaims in delight, squeezing you close as he spins you around excitedly, “Did you see?!” You giggle, still holding onto his thick forearms as he places you down, “How could I not?” 

Bokuto’s chest puffs with pride before he bends over ever so slightly to give you a kiss that he’s been thinking about for the better half of the game. He dearly hopes that you didn’t see him dash off the court as soon as he was able to, making a quick job of fishing a ring box from his duffel bag on the sidelines as Atsumu cheered him on. Now, the box sits in the pocket of his uniform shorts, ready to be presented to you. 

“You did so good, Kou!” You add with an endearing smile, chest filling with warmth as his smile broadens upon hearing the praise, “Only because you were watching me.” Bokuto supplies in a chipper response, cheeks flushed. 

“I think you’re good, either way,” you chuckle fondly.

Koutaro clicks his tongue playfully, wagging his head back and forth in disagreement, “Nah, you’re the reason I’ve made it this far, after all.”

Though you beg to differ, it’s nice to hear it. You’re more than positive that Bokuto would have made it this far with or without you, still, you can’t help but count yourself lucky for being along for the ride.

What started as his hopeful attempts to impress you with showy spikes back in high school, what turned into a cramped downtown apartment, and what is now this moment that you share on the court. And while to you all of this seems so extraneous to his performance tonight, Bokuto can surely recognize where his motivation has been coming from, it’s only natural he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. 

“I want to be able to win every game in the future for you!” He declares, and it takes you a moment to register that he’s deadly serious, you’d nearly giggled in response, “I just want you to enjoy yourself, isn’t that what matters?” You speak up a bit over the crowd, head tilting. 

“Well, you’re right,” he shrugs, “But I also think you’re the biggest reason why I keep wanting to get better.” 

The sentiment makes a lump form in your throat, knowing that he doesn’t even mean to flatter you half of the time, he’s being entirely honest with you. That’s one thing you’ll never grow used to about Bokuto, how easily he can say something that knocks the breath out of you, and everything he tells you is undeniably true to what he believes. 

“So, that’s why I hope we can be together forever,” he adds with a simple nod, reaching into his pocket. You’re just about to agree, after all, he says such sappy things like this so often that it’s hard to tell when the words have more weight behind them. This time, you soon realize as he lowers himself to the ground, his words have the weight of the entire world. 

“I love you so much, you know? I’ll never stop, either,” Bokuto presents a ring box that looks absolutely tiny in his large hands, still, he’s ever so gentle in opening it to reveal a large diamond that glitters under the stadium lights. At this point, the people around you have paused their celebratory ministrations to watch, but none of that really matters to you and Bokuto. The most important thing in the world, you can’t ever deny, is the man staring up at you so lovingly. And coincidentally, you just happen to be the most important thing in the world to him, too. 

“I hope you’ll let me love you forever,” he speaks with sheer confidence and pride, as he does with everything else, “Can I marry you?”

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈

» Something simple but intimate, that’s just his thing 

» Definitely a winter proposal, Akaashi thinks the snow is just so romantic

» Takes you down to a snowy park to go ice skating (despite contrary belief, you probably had to hold him up almost the entire time, this man doesn’t exactly have any natural grace when it comes to treading ice)

» Afterwards, it’s the standard snow day affair, you two build a snowman and give it a name inspired by one of your countless inside jokes, the both of you engage in snowball warfare, he buys you a cup of cocoa and sits on the bench with you (and yeah, he helps you blow on it, he’s just that perfect)

» What you DON'T know is that all day he’s been waiting for the right moment to reveal the little gift he’s been harboring for you in his back pocket

You can’t remember the last time you felt cold in the winter at all. When you think about it, the icy bite of frozen wind hasn’t nipped at your cheeks in years, perhaps having something to do with the eternal warmth the man beside you incited, the sort of toasty comfort that made your muscles loosen and eyelids go heavy. 

Akaashi’s breath comes out in short, puffy clouds, then rolls out into nothing in a matter of mere seconds. The crunching of snow beneath soles of winter boots fills the silence and makes your heart sing, oh, how you love this time of year. Beside you, however, Keiji is struggling to discern what his instincts are telling him to do. Two separate thoughts of just do it now and wait for another time have been pestering him all day to the point in which he can no longer hold a conversation without feeling a nervous ache in his chest. 

“Ah!” You exclaim with surprise, tilting your chin up ever so slightly towards the cloudy sky. Akaashi peers at you first, then up in the direction you face, realizing that tiny snowflakes are beginning to fall down to earth once more. The world is so quiet during the winter, he thinks, even with the mirth surrounding the two of you in the busy park, the snow will always serve to bolster the sound in its milky white embrace. 

He chuckles to himself as you stick out your tongue, darting it upwards to catch a snowflake, and the sight nearly makes him forget about what he came here to do. If there truly is a perfect time, Akaashi isn’t sure he’ll ever have the confidence to pin it, but right now, things feel okay, they feel right. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs in a whisper, catching your attention. Akaashi doesn’t miss the snowflake stuck to your eyelashes, nor the stray speckles of snow glittering in your hair like sugar. Your cheeks flush, leaving you to grin sweetly at him in gratitude while he brushes snowflakes from your hair, “You know what I just realized right now?”

You hum, blinking up at him curiously for an answer, eyes training on the subtle upturn of his lips, the crinkle of his reddened nose. 

“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.” Your heart swells and a flustered, almost sheepish, giggle falls under your breath at the compliment. Akaashi can be so romantic, sometimes, and it leaves you wondering if he even knows what he’s doing to you…he has to, hasn’t he? Keiji clears his throat, “Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you about today.”

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you tilt your head at him ever so slightly, “What do you mean?”

Now it’s Akaashi’s turn to let out a sheepish laugh, slipping a knit glove off of one of his hands and placing it into his coat pocket, much to your perplexity. “I wanted to ask if you’d let me have this forever. There’s nothing else I’d really want more than this.” Suddenly, everything clicks in your mind as he reaches into his back pocket and lowers to one knee, that softened grin of his cracking into a wide beam once tears flood into your eyes.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to marry you,” the ring he’s since taken from the box shines so brilliantly under snowy sunbeams, and you realize Akaashi was right about one thing, this is the happiest you think you’ve ever seen him. 

“Would you let me have that? Will you marry me?”

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄

» This is the world’s best boyfriend in case there was any confusion (which there shouldn’t be)

» Unfortunately this man wouldn’t know subtle if it slapped him in the face and stole his lunch money

» If you get your nails done, Iwa always pays for them, but he is oddly persistent about it the week leading up to when he plans to propose…which is kinda suspicious to you but you let it go

» He’s a big nature lover!!! He loves going on hikes with you (and doesn’t even mind in the slightest if he has to wait up for you, all he cares about is spending time together)

» Suggests the two of you go to your favorite trail and is absolutely relieved when you agree (Oikawa’s already headed over to hide in the bushes for three hours with a camera)

Wiping the sweat off your brow, you let release a drawn-out heavy breath of relief to have finally made it past the steep monster of a hill you and Iwaizumi had been dreading to trek. It’s worth it, though, it always is. The past few times that the two of you have gone down this trail, you’ve never lingered long enough to get the perfect view that you’re getting now, overlooking treetops gone vibrant green like everything else in springtime. 

“I thought you weren’t gonna make it for a second,” Hajime snickers, pulling at the collar of his shirt to cool himself down, and you can’t help but ponder why he seems so different today. For one, he’s taken every excuse to put his hands on you, holding your waist or lacing his fingers gently into your own with a periodic squeeze or two. Not to mention, he also can’t seem to be able to take his eyes off of you, which isn’t anything new in the slightest, save for a brand new depth to its usual shine that has puzzled you. 

“Are you kidding?” You scoff playfully, “I’m the one who almost had to drag you the rest of the way!” The two of you both know that is further from the truth than anything, but you still laugh, you always do. How can’t you feel such a dizzying high of joy when you’re together like this? Iwaizumi slips his backpack off his shoulder, presumably to grab a bottle of water, leaving you to admire the view once more. 

Today seems like it was made to be enjoyed, the trail isn’t as humid as it has been before, but it was just as lush, budding with the forest flora of early spring. Hajime noticed this too, in fact, not only is today perfect to enjoy, but he knows for certain it’s perfect for something else. And it’s now or never, he thinks, making sure your back is still turned as he grabs a navy velveted ring box from the front pocket. 

You glance back over your shoulder to make sure Hajime is sharing the view with you, that he too can see how terribly romantic everything can be when you care to notice it. He gulps, quickly tucking his hand behind his back as he comes up to place the other palm on your shoulder with a slight squeeze of affectionate warmth. “So pretty,” you note, knowing it goes without saying. 

Hajime nods, chewing on his lower lip in thought, until he’s unable to fight a shaky grin of excitement. You sigh contentedly, turning to face the sun again, relishing in the spoils of your hard work, and Hajime speaks up once more, “Today is perfect, isn’t it?”

You nod wordlessly, and he stares fondly as ever at the nape of your neck, knowing for certain that anything with you involved will always be perfect. That’s why he’s doing this, isn’t it?

“That’s why I thought today would be nice to ask you this.”

Your brows crease in confusion at the statement, prompting you to glance back over your shoulder again with a hushed hum, only to jump in surprise at the sight of him much lower to the ground than before. A hand flies to clasp at your mouth, Hajime gazes up at you from one knee like you hung the stars in the sky, and in fact, you might as well have. You’re the reason everything in his life is beautiful, why the thought of being without you is worse than death. 

“Don’t cry,” he chuckles adoringly at the sight of you falling apart, knowing it’s hypocritical of him to say with fat tears brimming in his own eyelids. Hajime carefully pops the ring box open, a quivering grin and creased brow are the only things standing between him and weeping.

“You know,” he starts, sniffling, “The only way I want to spend the rest of my life is with you, all I need to be happy is you.”

“Will you let me have the privilege of getting to marry you?”

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔

» Showpony (in the most loving way possible)

» He was going to have an airplane spell “Will You Marry Me?” in the sky before Iwa shut that down 

» Bottom line, he needs this to be as romantic as possible, it’s the most important night of your relationship by far, after all!

» New Years is right around the corner and what’s more romantic than celebrating another loop around the sun with fireworks?

» I’d imagine you two would be in Argentina so on New Years Eve he’ll suggest that you head down to the beach to watch fireworks pop over the city in the distance

» Much to your surprise, there’s already a picnic set up for the two of you upon arrival (this man is so extra. I cannot.)

Fireworks occupy the inky sky in the distance, brilliant, vivid speckles of light begin to dwindle as they fall to the earth. You’re entranced by the display, the dazzling red of another large firework bursts across the sky like stardust, glittering on its way down. And while the celebration is a sight to see, Oikawa couldn’t keep his eyes on it if he tried.

In his opinion, you were countless times more appealing to stare at, the way your eyes light up when another crackling display of gold goes off in the sky, how the flickering lights make the shadows on your face dance. This is something he could never get sick of, it seems. 

“You’re staring.” You mumble under your breath coyly, giving him a cursory once over, then looking back at the fireworks. Oikawa laughs under his breath, “How could I not? You’re stunning.” 

As he expected, you groan playfully, nudging him, “You are the corniest person I’ve ever met!” Tooru likes this bit, the one where he tells you something he wholeheartedly believes and you pretend you don’t hear the pure sincerity when he says it, “It’s true!” He scoffs in mock-offense, “You’re so gorgeous, am I allowed to say that?” Oikawa tilts his head back with a whine. 

You’re looking at him now, still sitting cross-legged on the beach towel; and Oikawa’s bubbly mood quickly goes flat with the realization that you’re not just beautiful, you’re captivating. He’s not sure what he’s done right in order to be sitting on this beach with you, eyes lingering on the way salty sea air blows gusts of wind past you softly, sending your hair to ripple like tendrils of smoke. 

Just in those few seconds, he knows that he can’t wait any longer to ask you to let him have this view for eternity, and he’s hungry to walk straight into the future knowing you won’t stray too far from him wherever the two of you may end up. Tooru sits up straighter, fixing his sweatshirt as he shifts to rest on his knees, raring to figure out how to begin to say what he wants to. 

You’ve since taken notice of his movement, smiling softly in confusion at him while he gives up on fighting the urge to stare at you, brown eyes glimmering with something warm each time another firework bursts in the sky. “Can I make a promise to you?” Oikawa whispers, head tilted. 

With perplexity, you shrug, then smile with a focused eye on his expression, “Sure.” He clutches your hand, “I promise that I will always be here for you, even if you don’t ask me to be there, I will always make sure you know how much I love you,” Oikawa’s voice goes low with uncharacteristic solemnity, and you’re on the verge of asking him what this is all about before he shifts to one knee, bringing a black ring box from behind him to light. 

You can’t help but gasp, sitting back on two knees, face now leveled with his. You can perfectly see his expression soften, melting into something entirely new. Oikawa knows he is falling in love with you all over again, he’s been the head over heels kind of smitten, but now? Now his love has grown to become a need to have you with him in order to continue on living.

“And I…” the box opens, a diamond reflecting the bright colors spilling across the sky enters your watery vision, “I want to be able to make these promises to you at the altar, and I want to spend my life living up to them.” 

“Will you let me keep my promise and marry you?”

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈

» Wants something quiet, you know? When it’s just the two of you guys, it’s most romantic

» You come home after a tiring day of work and he’s doting on you more than usual (which is saying a lot considering you’re the apple of his eye as it is)

» What’s this? Your hunky boyfriend made you pasta dinner? Oh okay.

» GODDDD no matter how many times you two eat together he always pulls the chair out for you even if it’s just at home, he’s subtle in the loudest ways about how much he loves you 

» Actually pretty nervous because doing something like this is so vulnerable and I can see that as something that frightens him a bit

» But it’s you!!! If there’s anyone he’d ever feel comfortable being 100% vulnerable around, it will always have to be you!

“What’s the special occasion?” You had snickered upon entering your dimly-lit apartment, raising your shoulders to make it easier for Kiyoomi, who’d taken to helping you slip out of your coat as soon as he’d finished kissing you hello. Your boyfriend said something along the lines of, “Just wanted to,” with that airy tone of his, donning a grin much larger than usual. 

Sakusa has never, and never will, be able to get over how utterly beautiful you are. Everything you do makes his chest ache with longing, even after having dated for years, he just has accepted that being around you will always make him go weak with adoration. “This is amazing,” you muse, twirling your fork around on the plate for another bite, “I think you should just take over dinner all the time.” 

The two of you laugh amongst yourselves quietly, “I can see it now, I’d love to come home to you in a frilly apron after work,” you add teasingly, tapping his shin with your socked foot under the table.

Kiyoomi simply shakes his head with a humored scoff, “I’m sure you would,” he drawls, taking a thoughtful sip of wine. He still can’t get over it, even thinking about it right now, you are the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon and it’s not fair how easily you can render him speechless. In the candlelight, you remind him of a painting, a set of perfectly carved out features, each one intentionally placed with the utmost amount of care. You’re perfect.

Tonight will be the night that he asks you to please let him devote his life to you, for the simple feeling of him to be able to bask in your radiance. And if that, in your own words, means cooking dinner in a frilly apron for you every night, Kiyoomi struggles to really find any grievances he has with that. 

“I’d gladly do that for you,” Sakusa finally returns, earning a playful quirk of your brows, “Oh?” 

“In fact, you know, I’d really like to do that for you,” Kiyoomi stands up, much to your confusion as he steps to your side of the table. You almost don’t process the way in which he bends over to kiss the crown of your head on his way down to one knee, a hopeful smile on his face. 

“If there’s anything I want you to know, it’s that I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life with you for a long time, now,” Kiyoomi slips a velvet box from his pocket and your jaw goes slack in surprise, a hand traveling to grasp at the collar of your blouse. 

“You’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with because you’re my best friend,” he says, voice faltering with a sudden onslaught of emotions, “And I think…I know that I exist to love you.”

You’re unable to speak, breath caught in your throat and hot tears threatening to overflow onto your warm cheeks, his voice comes out solemn and intentional, “I want to be able to love you for all the time that I’m able to.”

Kiyoomi presents the ring to you, a question he’s been dying to ask you for years forming on his lips as they part to ask it, “Will you marry me?”