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#i mean I'd draw anything that I find amusing
stellaranglerfish · 1 month
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This is who we're being mean to when we call him stinky..
I'll draw a better one when I'm back
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tetsvya · 4 months
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clueless, kuroo tetsuro
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!
➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader
➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers
➼ word count! about 1.4k
➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡
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"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.
Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!
"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.
"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.
Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."
"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"
"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"
"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."
"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."
"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."
Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.
"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."
There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?
"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."
All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.
Right?
A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.
"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"
Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"
"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"
Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."
"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.
"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.
"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"
"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"
"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"
"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.
"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.
Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."
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meaningofaeons · 1 year
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ emotionally unavailable p.2
⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, jing yuan, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 5.6k ⊹ notes - gn!reader (gepard, sampo), fem!reader (jing yuan, reader is referred to as 'lady'), emotionally constipated/stoic reader (but you're warming up a bit ;), confessions, fluff, love, mushy stuff! ⊹ part 1 here!
sorry this took so long !! (=´ᆺ`=) really thought I'd have it out sooner, but I wanted to make sure it was planned and edited this time. hope you all like! and please do point out any mistakes, I know sometimes I mix up the gn pronouns with she/her so lemme know if there's any of that (ฅ^・ﻌ・^)ฅ
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⊹ Gepard Landau
Ever since you and Gepard spoke that day, Serval had been seeing more of you around the workshop.
Rather than lounging as per your nick-namesake, however, you were frequently speaking with Gepard when he was around.
That, or you were at her desk asking when he'd be around.
It was a far cry from your former indifference for sure.
Sure, you weren't overly enthused or anything at the prospect of seeing him, but...
Serval could definitely see the gleam in your eye when you questioned about her brother.
You weren't alone in your affection, either.
The eldest Landau hadn't failed to notice the consistently at which Gepard asked about you, too.
Even though there were reports of Fragmentum corrosion being on the rise and more monsters to keep at bay, things that usually stressed the Captain out, he was in shockingly high spirits
It seems your presence was beneficial to his stress and mood.
Over time, you mellowed out a bit from your usual stoicism as well
You were more inclined to joke and be more open with Serval and Gepard both, though you still retained a bit of your standoffish nature.
This didn't mean you magically became an extrovert—Aeons knows you still treated other people just as coldly.
But to the Landaus at least, things were turning up.
You weren't running into their arms with warm salutations ready for an embrace, but at the very least, you spoke more.
Not to mention, you'd taken on a new hobby—teasing poor Gepard.
It wasn't really your fault, in your defense. He was just too easy, and his blushing cheeks were admittedly cute amusing to see.
Gepard, in spite of your embarrassing new pastime, would often count the hours, minutes, down to the seconds until he could head to the workshop and see if you were around
On the days you weren't (increasingly rare nowadays), it was quite obvious how he'd deflate. But he'd still wait around a little while longer for you
And when you were there? He'd light up immediately.
It's as if you could see the tail wagging behind him—he's like a giant golden retriever.
Eventually, it got to the point where he figured it was about time he confessed how he actually felt about you.
Serval, of course, encouraged and offered to wing-woman for him as she had done before, but he adamantly refused
As much as Gepard appreciated his sister, he wanted to do this himself.
He would find himself practicing singing, drawing, anything artistic he could do to show his affections for you.
It was an earnest, honest-to-good effort, but let's be honest—he's not the best at most artistic pursuits.
Eventually, he settled for a poem (the farthest he could get artistically without completely flubbing it) and a bouquet of the flowers that brought you two together in the first place—Ball Peonies.
He put it off for a few days out of nervousness.
Okay, no, a few weeks. Let's not kid ourselves, he had to buy a few bouquets since they kept withering (thankfully, that Silvermane Guard Captain salary is good!)
Finally, the day came.
Gepard shifted from one foot to the other, a habit of his when anxious. In battle, one always had to be on their toes. Though the matter ahead of him was far from a fight to the death on the front lines, it was a struggle nonetheless.
The brain's fight-or-flight response unfortunately didn't care to discriminate between a war with monsters and a nerve-wracking confession.
Maybe you weren't coming today.
No, no. Serval mentioned you had to swing by. You had an appliance giving you trouble, and she'd fixed it up and prepared it for delivery today.
His sister provided this opportunity for him. He couldn't back down!
However, as soon as sky blue eyes spotted your approaching figure, Gepard had to physically grab hold of his own arm to ground himself and prevent himself from running away.
He settled his anxiety as much as he could by hiding the flowers behind his back instead.
"Gepard?"
No going back now! You'd seen him!
His brain was in overdrive, and he found himself fending off trembles, face already going red. Aeons, he hadn't even gotten a single word out yet!
"That's me."
Okay, good, he'd gotten the first words out no problem.
"I thought you had patrol today. It's good to see you."
"G-Good to see you too!"
And there it was. A stutter, followed by a voice crack on the last word. The poor blonde man could've easily sank into a hole and withered away at that moment, but you only raised a brow, oblivious to his internal misery.
"Well, are you coming inside? I need to pick something up, and then I'm off. Sorry I can't stick around, especially since you're off duty for once."
"Y-Yeah, I'm coming. And it's okay!"
Gepard was far too caught up in his own gut-wrenching anxiety to notice the way you had rushed through your normally-casual sentences. Though your tone was the same, the slightest, most imperceptible tremble flitted after your every word.
When you entered, Serval was nowhere to be seen. You assumed she was in the back, and thus went to pop in and check, but as you did that, said woman snuck past and headed for the door, mouthing at her brother.
'Don't! Back! Down! Now!'
He swallowed thickly as she vanished, ducking outside to hide and await Gepard's long-overdue confession to you.
"Hm. Doesn't seem she's here. Maybe an errand..."
"Y/N!"
You raised a brow, leaning on the counter. "I'm right here, Gepard. No need to shout."
"Right! Right... Um! I just wanted to... I just... Err..."
"You alright? You're burning up, and I haven't even prodded at your singing or drawing today."
Those words only made the flare-up of his cheeks worse.
"I'm fine!" His voice had only increased in volume, and you winced. Your eyes flitted to the clock, and you sighed, taking a deep, shaky inhale.
Shift starts in a few minutes. I can always get the heater later, but... this is now or never.
Before Gepard could continue his train of thought, you interrupted, pulling out a small tin canister and slid it towards him on the counter. His ramblings cut short, he could do little more than stare down at it, calming down amidst his confusion.
"...This is?"
"Well..." you trailed off, glancing away and crossing your arms. Though Gepard was sure your expression was the same, pensive and uninterested, you adamantly hid it from him. "I didn't really know what else to get you."
...Huh?
"I could've gone for flowers, sure, but I guess they didn't seem very appropriate for you. You'd have no use for them."
Oh, but he would place them in the nicest vase money could buy, and stare at them for hours on end every day, thinking about the fact that it was you who brought them to him. No use? What nonsense.
"Then I thought chocolates, or maybe some other sweet, but I didn't know if you liked that sort of thing. I'm sorry I never asked."
What did you have to be sorry for? He'd eat anything you offered up, even if it were burnt or poisoned. And he'd accept it with the biggest smile, content in the fact that you had carefully worked on it for him.
"So, well, this seemed the most practical. Armor polish... for you. Keep up that 'Captain of the Silvermane Guards'-grade armor, and everything..."
Were he any less trained as a soldier for battle, Gepard could've shed a tear. Closed off, stoic, standoffish, yet you still remained the most considerate person he'd ever met.
He took the canister in one hand delicately, as if it were the most precious thing he'd ever touched, and then glanced up at you. A million words of gratitude and devotion were ready to spill from his lips all at once, but his brain fizzed out and he could manage but one.
"Why?"
You sighed deeply, the grip you had on your arm tightening.
"...ike you."
"...Huh?"
"I..." your voice increased in octave, but it fizzled out again at the end. "...eally... you."
"Y/N—"
"I really like you. There." With how loud you projected the words, anyone would assume you were confident and calm with their delivery, but your voice again contained the slightest timbre of anxiety beneath it. Still, with those firm eyes, you turned to look at him, confessing the thing he had taken weeks to even consider bringing up.
Perhaps, though, it had taken you weeks as well.
Gepard was silent, stunned into complete rigidity at your words. You knew he could be awkward, but the reaction he held only furthered your uncertainty, and you eventually turned to leave, somewhat dejected.
Before you could take even one step, though, a gloved hand took your arm as gently as possible, and Gepard was red and sweltering as if he'd just ran a marathon in full uniform to catch you.
"Wait! Wait!"
"Gepard, it's fine if you don't—"
"No, no! I like you, too!" Your confidence gave the Captain the boost he needed to finally blurt out the words, shoving the Ball Peony bouquet towards you. "I swear! That's, um... That's why Serval had me come by today."
It was your turn to be shocked—so shocked, in fact, that you didn't even bother to curse Serval out for setting you up like this.
Still, as Gepard slid his hand down to clasp your own, you couldn't bring yourself to feel too much enmity towards her.
"Um... If it's okay, do you want to go to dinner tomorrow night, then...?"
You tried to hide your delight as best you could.
"...Tomorrow night sounds nice."
Gepard, however, could not hide his.
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⊹ Jing Yuan
It only took that one night of trickery, that one moment of Jing Yuan catching you hook, line, and sinker, for a routine to develop.
The General immediately took advantage of your acceptance and took you to the nicest restaurant the Xianzhou Luofu had to offer (and the most expensive, of course, much to your dismay).
As promised, he got his paperwork done on time.
But it wasn't more than a few days before he began slipping again.
Napping around his office, playing chess with Yanqing instead of working...
As soon as you got on his case again, you could see in the way his brow quirked that his mind was quick at work to justify himself.
Then, a wry smile had appeared—one you were both begrudgingly fond of and vehemently annoyed by.
"Well, Lady Y/N, go out to dinner with me again tonight and I promise to have my work done."
And so developed an unlikely routine—as long as you went to dinner after working hours, Jing Yuan would have his paperwork complete.
Of course, there were a few times when he slipped.
But whenever this happened, you vanished from the Seat of Divine Foresight before he could even awaken, and he found that the absence of your presence was punishment enough.
So now, him skimping his work was a rare occurrence. Even Yanqing was surprised.
"General, you've been a lot... busier, lately."
"Only as busy as I'm meant to be, my boy."
Golden eyes were immensely suspicious, and those same eyes watched the General in your presence carefully.
"...It's Lady Y/N, isn't it?"
Jing Yuan choked.
Even still, you'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying the routine as well.
It was a win on both counts—you get a nice, expensive meal, and Jing Yuan also stops skipping important work!
Surely, it wasn't also a win to spend more time with the General. Surely...
He was still as cheeky as ever, though, especially now that you'd caved to his whims and spent more time with him.
Sometimes, he'd try to pass you alcohol and convince you to drink with him.
Of course, this was with the sly intention of getting you to open up and drop that stoic façade.
It never really worked.
Either you refused, citing work, didn't get drunk enough to become loose-lipped...
Or, in one instance, actually drank the General of the Luofu himself under the table.
Needless to say, you never did that again. Not only did you gain nothing but a raging hangover, the people of the Luofu who were present in the bar wouldn't shut up about it for weeks.
The rumors were even more ridiculous!
Though, you did gain something to tease Jing Yuan about, for once.
Dinner eventually turned into dinner along with a small walk together afterwards.
It took a lot of convincing and taking on extra work for Jing Yuan to get you to agree to the latter.
It was nice, though. Not only were you out in the fresh air, but you were free of the somewhat guilty burden of having the General paying for all your meals out of pocket.
Still, one day... he seemed different.
"General—"
"Lady Y/N—"
You both paused mid-sentence, cutting each other off. However, it was you who ultimately remained silent, gesturing for the man to continue.
Jing Yuan seemed... uncharacteristically nervous today. Was nervous even the right word for it? Perhaps it was, seeing as how his one visible eye darted back and forth.
Strange.
He cleared his throat loudly, reaching out a hand.
"I was only going to ask if you were ready to head to our usual dinner arrangement. I've made reservations."
Well, that was even more strange.
"General, you've never asked me before. You've just dragged me along. Are you feeling well?"
Despite your concern, you still accepted his hand just as naturally as always, allowing him to move your hand into position so that you were holding onto his arm. The first time he'd done this, you had recoiled, embarrassed at the proximity, but now, it was just as routine as your near-nightly dinner dates.
Dates? Were they dates? You pushed the thought as far away from your head as you could to avoid any red flush potentially springing to your cheeks.
"Of course I'm well." Jing Yuan only chuckled mildly, not meeting your gaze. "Shall we be off?"
You eyed him, but nodded slowly. On the way to the reserved seats, you began cautiously.
"...If you slacked off on your work and are trying to hide it from me..."
Honey-gold eyes met yours with a slight measure of surprise, and before you knew it, the General was laughing. A low, rumbling, and comforting sound that emanated from deep within his chest. It caused the dam you held to keep your cheeks from going red to burst.
"W-What did I say?!"
"Nothing, my dear... Absolutely nothing," he chuckled, wiping an imaginary tear. As much as the sight irked you, it also caused you to breathe a small sigh of relief.
He didn't seem as anxious any more.
"I was just a bit surprised."
"Well, I wouldn't be..." you grumbled. "Wouldn't be the first time."
Jing Yuan's smile turned crooked. "Come, now. I think I've been doing rather well at holding up my end of the deal. How long has it been since I last shirked my duties?"
"One week."
Your unimpressed response had his laugh turn nervous, but not in the same way as before. He glanced away at your dagger-like stare, murmuring some sort of excuse before giving up at the squeeze you gave his arm.
"I would say I've been doing well overall, though."
You acquiesced with a sigh. "That you have, General. Better than before, at least."
"Well, that is high praise. Coming from my poker-faced Lady Y/N, I'd have thought it'd take ten decades of work to satisfy your standards and achieve a compliment such as that."
You only grumbled in response, eliciting another laugh from your General.
So caught up in the conversation were you that it took you being seated in a private room to realize where you were.
"...This is where you first took me."
"Correct," Jing Yuan smiled, a hint of unease in his features as he fiddled with something beneath the table. "I thought it'd be appropriate."
"For...?" you trailed off, trying to recall if there was anything special happening today. "Did I forget a holiday?"
"No, no. I'll tell you later, Lady Y/N."
"Very well, General," you sighed, making your choice and setting your menu down. Surprisingly, a comforting silence filled the air until the attendant came to collect both of your orders, and even after that. Minutes passed, and the silence was now... less comforting.
Something was definitely off. By now, the General would be talking your ear off about something—whether informing you about his latest trickery with his and Yanqing's games of chess or teasing you for your uptightness in the latest meeting, he'd have something to say.
But Jing Yuan just sat there, smiling down at his hands, still fiddling. You eventually had enough, clearing your throat.
"...So, are you going to tell me why today is significant for this restaurant?"
The man jumped—did he jump? Did the famous General Jing Yuan just jump over a mere question from his advisor?—and paused, clearing his throat again. You had noticed he was doing that quite a lot this evening.
"Well, I should get it out of the way, shouldn't I? No use dwelling on it any longer, haha..." Finally, he extracted the item he had been messing with, sliding a small velvet box across to your folded hands. "Here you go, Lady Y/N."
"And just what is this?" you eyed it, then raised a brow. A small trinket from one of his expeditions, perhaps? But you weren't much of a collector or anything...
"Just open it."
"Very well." You paused momentarily, but slowly pulled the box towards yourself, pushing up the little hinged lid. In an instant, your hands clapped it back shut, your face turning thousands of shades of red.
Jing Yuan, while still anxious, found himself chuckling as he fiddled with the hem of his sleeve.
"General," you whispered harshly. "Is this some kind of joke?!"
"Well, I'd hope not, considering that little trinket cost me a fair chunk of my prior paycheck."
"General Jing Yuan, I'm being serious!" You were sweating bullets, trying to reign in your flustered state. "Explain yourself!"
The man cleared his throat again, and finally began to lay out his reasoning.
"You see, Yanqing was just getting so terribly tired of hearing me talk about you. In his words, 'You need to do something about it before I go insane, General.'" Jing Yuan was rambling. "So I went to a local jeweler and tried to find something nice, but none of them quite suit you the way I wanted. Then, I figured I should commission something, and—"
His rambling speech had given you time to process just slightly, just enough to cut him off and pose your own question.
"Are you proposing to me?"
Jing Yuan coughed.
"Well, I figured since we'd been to dinner together so many times—"
"—as General and his advisor!—"
"—but if you'd like to start with the label of dating, I'm perfectly fine with slowing it down to that. We do have nothing but time, after all."
You were about to shout some more, say anything, but the sight of Jing Yuan's somewhat flushed cheeks had you reeling, stunned into silence.
He was serious.
The General glanced up at you through his bangs.
"You don't have to give me your answer right now. But I'd be delighted to see you at least try the ring." And oh, when he beseeched you with those pleading eyes, how could you even think to say no?
You hesitantly opened the box, unable to fathom what was happening. In your state, you hadn't noticed Jing Yuan move to your side, taking your hand gently in one hand and the ring in his other.
"Allow me."
Tenderly, carefully, Jing Yuan slid the ring onto you. It fit like a glove, and you couldn't even think to wonder how he got your ring size down to a T. He gazed into your eyes with such adoration that you felt your brain going to mush.
"...It's lovely," you stammered. The General smiled.
"You're lovely."
Surely, the situation was about to escalate into something more.
An embrace? Possibly... a kiss? Just as you felt the very distinct possibility of your eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, the door to your private dining hall was slid open.
"I have the orders for one General Jing Yuan and one Lady Y/N—"
The waitress stopped short, eyes wide at the proximity between you and the General. Then, her eyes fell to your hands, the ring—
"Wait—"
"Ma'am, it's not—"
"Please forgive me! I'll leave you be!"
Without giving either of you even a moment to explain, the now beet-faced woman dashed away, shocked out of her poor mind. You exhaled shakily, and then whipped your head around as Jing Yuan laughed boisterously.
"General! The rumors!"
"Oh, they always spread some rumor or another. It's happened since we first started this little routine, and it won't cease now. But if you aren't interested, I will always happily have them dispelled."
You huffed another sigh, glancing away.
"...Who said anything about me not being interested?"
It was Jing Yuan's turn to be stunned, but he recovered annoyingly quick, immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him.
"Really now? Well, I'll take that as your acceptance of my proposal. I will be stuck to your side from here on out."
"I'm accepting the dating proposal, not marriage, General!"
"For now."
"General!"
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⊹ Sampo Koski
The man who formerly avoided Natasha's clinic like the plague out of intense fear for Wildfire's motherly leader now found himself frequenting the joint more than the Fight Club.
Who would've guessed?
Well, you might've.
Ever since your run-in with the infamous Sampo Koski only a few weeks prior, it seems he'd made it his personal mission to only appear when you were working.
Of course, you only really worked night shifts, and Sampo was quite the night owl himself, but who's counting?
He still annoyed you to Hell and back.
The only edge you really had over him was when Natasha was in, helping you with the patients.
Sampo would stare at you from outside the window like a puppy left out in the rain—you could practically hear the whines and see the sad droop of metaphorical ears.
Natasha always knew he was by, and she'd always tease you about it, so in a way, you were both now avoiding her.
"Y/N... Your ol' buddy Sampo Koski got himself a booboo! Won't you fix me up?"
"Get lost."
"But it really hurts!"
"That's a flesh wound. Here's some ointment. Scram."
"Ouch! You're as cold as ever... Your words sting more than this egregious injury..."
A small, tiny voice inside your head was always thankful that he was never really as injured as he exaggerated, but he still found ways to negate even that tiny bit of mercy you held for him with his antics.
Usually, he'd just swing by to hop around you and ask for attention.
Really, he didn't want anything more than a few words from you or a few minutes of your time, but you didn't have much of either to spare with your work.
To catch your eye, he'd try to ham up his pain, but it never really worked.
A bandage there, an ointment there.
Sampo never failed to notice how you would always entertain those requests at least, giving him what he needed to care for himself.
Though he did long for your tender loving care again. Even if it meant being on the receiving end of your unimpressed stares.
Then, there was the time he asked for you to kiss his wound better.
That earned him a harsh clobbering to the head.
While you hated the distraction Sampo brought while you were actively trying to cure real patients, he wasn't all bad if he came at a good time.
Not that you'd ever admit it, though.
You'd given him enough ground with your little "For me" comment last time, and he'd never let you forget it as long as you lived.
When you were packing up your supplies and getting ready to trade shifts with Natasha, it was kind of... nice to see him around.
He'd bring you small doohickeys and trinkets from his latest scams expeditions, or talk your ear off about his adventures.
Scratch the dog analogy.
Sampo was more like a crow, squawking your ear off and delivering small, seemingly-insignificant, shiny treasures.
Somehow, his unending positivity and boisterous attitude was a nice contrast to the dreary place you were stuck in.
You were begrudgingly—with harsh emphasis on that word—becoming fond of Sampo Koski.
You weren't sure if this was a good thing.
"Y/N!"
You heaved a sigh, stretching out your weary limbs as Sampo came barreling into the clinic, thankfully uninjured. You kind of wanted to hit yourself for thinking of that first, rather than how obnoxiously loud he was being, but you digressed.
It seemed as though ever since your little run-in with him while he was badly wounded, he had taken your demand to stay out of harm's way to heart. Now, he rarely got anything more than a small bleeding cut or a sizeable bruise.
"How many times do I have to remind you to be quiet in the presence of my other patients? They're sleeping, Koski."
"Some things never change! Just like your painfully frostbite-y words, Y/N~"
You only grunted at that, collecting your tools and cleaning off your table. You always did like to leave Natasha with a neat workspace when she arrived.
"Sooo, I was thinking..."
"Sampo Koski, thinking? The Overworld must be crashing down on our heads as we speak."
"Yeesh, uncalled for..." the man grumbled, his energy bouncing back fast, though. "Let me take you somewhere nice. Think of it as a reward for working so hard and helping me out so many times, yeah?"
You raised a brow at that, and the conman clasped his hands together, that familiar grin sneaking onto his lips.
"After all, Sampo Koski always repays his debts! Never leaves a friend hanging!"
"You know the clinic's services for mild cases are free, right?"
"That generous heart of yours just makes me swoon, Y/N! But I can't possibly let you do me all this kindness without doing something in return!"
You sighed raggedly. "If this is you roping me into one of your scams..."
Sampo slapped a hand over his heart and clasped his chest as though mortally wounded. "You wound my poor soul, my heart, Y/N! Would 'lil old Sampo really do that to you?"
Your utterly deadpan glance sent him into nervous chuckles as he amped up his attempts to get you to come along.
"Come now, Y/N! You can trust me! Just this once, and if I wrong ya, you can toss me to the automatons! Honest to goodness!"
You were already yanking on your coat to follow when he crossed his finger over his heart as if to swear his undying allegiance to getting you back in one piece, sweeping past him out the door and grumbling something about being in your right mind to toss him to the robots anyways. The Sampo Koski looked a bit stunned at that, staring at you from within the clinic with wide emerald eyes.
"Well? Are you going to lead me there or no?"
"Ah, yes! Of course!"
Shockingly, it didn't take long to get to where the conman wanted to go. You had to duck past a few bots and avoid a few Fragmentum monsters, but really, that was every day in a place like the Underworld.
Yet, the bright glow of the huge Geomarrow vein caught your eye at once, sending you into awed silence.
Sampo smiled at that, dragging you along by the arm to a better vantage point. You stared up, admiring the rare beauty in a place as dreary as the Underworld.
As a doctor, especially an assistant to the only other doctor in the whole of the Underworld, you didn't really get the opportunity to go out and explore much beyond Boulder Town. Sure, there'd be patients you had to go to that couldn't make the distance to the clinic, but they were rarely beyond the walls of town.
The sight before you was truly something magnificent. Something you had never seen before.
"Well, like it?" Sampo nudged your arm, snapping you out of your trance as he grinned at you. "Told you it was cool! Thought you could use some time out of that stuffy clinic."
"It's..." You didn't quite know what to say. Words escaped you as you glanced between Sampo and the marvel of mineral. "It's really something. You weren't lying."
Even though you were too awed to realize you had admitted to his truth, the man beside you still hooted with laughter at his 'victory'.
Only when his joyful whoops calmed down did you manage to fully tear your eyes away from the sight, looking over to see Sampo trying to fiddle with something in his pocket.
"Sampo?"
The man jumped, and if you were any more alert to his antics, you would've assumed he was plotting something. However, he only hid his hands behind his back, beaming.
"What's up?"
"...Thank you."
The words were quiet, begrudging, but you managed them anyways. You expected immediate feedback from your so-called friend, only to be met with thick silence. You once again called his name, and he once again jumped.
"What's the matter with you? You've not got something criminal planned, do you?"
"Nope, Sampo Koski is always loyal to his word!" His chuckles were nervous, contradicting his statement. Just as you raised a brow and were about to speak up, however, he handed you a small chain.
"Haha, almost forgot!" Lie. "I had this for ya, too."
The item was placed in your hand before you could even protest, and you nearly leapt in shock when you realized what it was, were it not for your ability to keep on your stoic disposition.
A beautifully crafted, decorative Geomarrow wrist cuff sat in your palm, a nice rustic design to it that would compliment your outfit, surely. It looked more expensive than everything you owned combined.
"...Sampo—"
"See, an old buddy of mine owed me a favor from way back when. He's a jeweler nowadays, not super useful here, but I got my hands on a chunk of Geomarrow and he worked his magic! Cool, huh?"
"Sampo—"
"And that chunk isn't stolen, no siree bob! Got it completely legitimate this time! Paid out of pocket!"
"Sampo, are y—"
"It wasn't easy, but—"
"Sampo!"
The man finally stopped rambling, pausing to glance down at you with wide eyes.
"Haha, erm, yes, my dear Y/N?"
You would've felt your face flush—in fact, you were still actively staving off the heat to your cheeks—but you had to get one question out of the way first, a hardened expression on your face.
"You stole this, didn't you?"
"No!" Sampo's insistence was so adamant that it sent you aback. "Didn't you hear what I said? Honest, I didn't steal! Not a single part of the process was made with thievery or swindling! 'Cause you don't like it, and I wasn't about to confess in a way you don't like—"
"Confess?"
The conman stopped short, scratching his cheek and whistling inconspicuously, glancing anywhere but you. You weren't having much better luck with maintaining eye contact.
You glanced down at the cuff again, reluctantly sliding it on, but unable to deny how much you were taken by it. It was also the only way to distract yourself from the shock you felt, from the warmth now prominently displayed in your cheeks.
"So... yeah. Um. I did this all. For you. To confess, 'I love you' style and all of that, if that's how ya want to put it..."
"That's how you put it."
"Can you have some mercy on my poor heart?! Sampo's trying his best here!"
At that, you snorted. Then, you giggled. Eventually, you devolved into shaky, small laughter, chuckles that couldn't be hidden even by your typically impassive countenance.
For the first time in his life, Sampo found himself utterly dumbstruck. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, in a trance as he listened to your laughter, as sweet as the chime of a bell.
To Hell with confessions and acceptance, the man was fairly certain he could die happy just hearing such a sound and seeing such a look on your face. Even if you were laughing at the notion of him being in love with you, Sampo was confident he couldn't care less.
And then, for the second time that evening, the conman was struck speechless.
"Well... fine. I suppose I can graciously accept your feelings and your heart, Sampo Koski."
His eyes lit up like the Overworld sun.
"But only if you stop getting hurt. Period."
It wasn't enough to extinguish the light in his eyes, but it was enough to get him to droop, slinking over and hanging off your shoulder pathetically with a pout.
"Aw, then how am I going to see you?! Sampo Koski needs his Y/N time, or he'll be lost! I'm lost without you!"
It took everything you had not to clobber him—but this time, you were sure that twinge of annoyance was strong-armed aside by pure fondness.
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pickingupmymercedes · 17 days
Text
Leap of faith - Lewis Hamilton
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It can be read as a separate one-shot. But with the story it just makes it so much better
Sequence: Not just a pretty face / I need you to let me go / Fly on my own / Leap of faith (bonus)
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: couple who went through a lot finally getting their happily ever after 🥹❤️
wordcount: +2k
a/n: Their story has my whole heart and I thought they deserved this closure❤️
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
______________________________________________________________
Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, the glow of fairy lights casting a warm light across the open Californian sky. Guests were scattered around tables, their faces glowing with joy and a bit of alcohol.
In the midst of it all, the newlyweds stood at the center of attention, surrounded by family and friends who had gathered to witness this moment.
Lewis stood there, his fingers lightly gripping the mic as he looked around the room.
His eyes landed on Y/n, and his usual confidence softened into something more tender. He took a breath, the kind that spoke volumes without saying a word, then began to speak with that familiar, easygoing tone.
"I've been thinking a lot about what I wanted to say today. You all know I’m not really one for speeches—well, at least not ones that don’t involve a podium anyway. But today, standing here, looking at Y/n, I realize that there are some things that need to be said. Things that have been in my heart for a long time, but that maybe I haven’t always found the right words for."
He glanced down at his new wedding band for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before looking back up at her.
"When I first met Y/n, I was... let’s just say I was a little too sure of myself. I thought I knew what I wanted out of life, what it meant to be successful, to be happy. But Y/n... she changed all of that."
He paused, his eyes softening as he took in her face, the way she looked at him with that mix of affection and amusement that only she could pull off.
"I won’t pretend that our journey has been easy. It hasn’t. There have been times when I wondered if we’d ever get here, if we’d ever figure out how to make it work. But through it all, there was this pull—something that kept drawing me back to you. It felt inevitable."
There was a brief silence, the kind that came when words just didn’t seem enough, but he pressed on, his voice a little softer now.
"Over the years, I’ve felt so many things for you, Y/n. Admiration, frustration, pride, fear... love. So much love.
“But more than anything, I’ve felt lucky. Lucky to have met someone who sees me—not the driver, not the celebrity. The real me. And even luckier that, despite everything, you’ve chosen to stand by my side."
He shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips as if he was still a bit in awe of it all.
"You’ve taught me that love isn’t about finding someone who’s perfect—God knows neither of us are that. It’s about finding someone who’s willing to grow with you, to fight with you and for you, to laugh with you when things are good and hold you when they’re not.”
“It’s about finding that person who challenges you, who pushes you to be better, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard."
His voice caught slightly, just for a moment, and he cleared his throat before continuing.
"There were times when the distance, the pressures, the lives we lead seemed like too much. But every time I doubted, you showed up. You were always there, with your strength, your sarcasm, your endless belief in me. And slowly, I started to believe too. Believe that we were worth the fight, worth all the doubts."
He stopped, letting those words hang in the air for a moment before continuing, his tone more thoughtful now.
"I’ve thought a lot about what it means to commit to someone, to truly give yourself over to another person. It’s not something I’ve ever taken lightly. But then I remember when you asked me if I'd catch you. And how I just knew, somehow, that I could never let you fall. That I would always be there, arms wide open, ready to catch you."
He paused again, his eyes never leaving hers, and there was a rawness in his voice.
"You’ve been my biggest challenge and my greatest adventure. And through all the ups and downs, all the doubts and fears, one thing has remained constant: my love for you. It’s been tested, pushed to its limits, but it’s also grown stronger because of it. Stronger because of you."
There was a brief silence as he let those words sink in, both for himself and for everyone listening.
"I’ve come to realize that loving you, Y/n, isn’t trying to fit into some perfect mold, some idea of what we’re supposed to be. It’s embracing who we are, flaws and all. You make me want to be a better man, not because you ask me to, but because you deserve nothing less."
He took a deep breath, the emotion in his voice becoming more apparent as he neared the end of his vows.
"I’ve been in some pretty high-pressure situations in my life. But standing here today, committing my life to you, is by far the most important thing I’ve ever done.”
He smiled, a little wistful but also full of hope and love.
"You’ve always been the one, Y/n. Even when I didn’t know it, even when I tried to deny it, you were always the one. And, standing here, I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to. Because I’ve found home."
Lewis’s voice dropped to a near whisper, the words meant only for her, even as the room listened intently.
"I’m all in, Y/n. I’ve always been all in, even when I didn’t realize it. And I can’t wait to see where this leap takes us next. Because whatever happens, wherever we go, I know one thing for sure—I’ll always catch you."
He let out a small, almost relieved sigh, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Then, with a soft smile, he added,
"And I promise, for as long as I’m breathing, I’ll never let you fall alone."
As the last word left his lips and he smiled at his wife, Y/n stepped forward, closing the space between them. Her arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly, as if to anchor herself in that moment.
He embraced her, his lips brushing softly against her hair, leaving a tender kiss there as he breathed in her familiar scent for a minute, before she let go and nodded at him.
Y/n took a deep breath as she took the microphone from Lewis, her fingers lightly brushing over his fingers as she gazed at him.
His vows had been everything she expected and more, and now it was her turn.
She could feel the weight of the moment, the anticipation in the air, but as she turned away from him, there was a flicker of something in her eyes—mischief, affection, and a hint of that vulnerability she rarely let anyone see.
She glanced at the guests, her smile widening as she began to speak, her tone warm but laced with the familiar sarcasm that everyone knew.
“Well, that was something, wasn’t it?” Y/n’s voice carried through the room, earning a ripple of laughter. She turned her gaze back to Lewis, playfully narrowing her eyes.
 “Leave it to you to set the bar so damn high. Now I’m standing here, realizing that I should’ve probably gone first. But hey, that’s always been our dynamic, right? You go ahead, and I’ll catch up when I’m not that scared anymore.”
The guests chuckled, and Y/n took a moment to collect her thoughts. The teasing edge in her voice softened into something more genuine as she shifted her gaze back to Lewis.
“First off, let’s get this out of the way— you guys have no idea how much I’ve been trying to keep my cool all day.” She winked at the crowd, earning a few more chuckles.
“The fact that I’m standing here, in front of all of you, without a single escape plan in my back pocket is... growth.”
Her gaze shifted to her mother, who was sitting with tears already glistening in her eyes.
“I see you, Mom. I know what you’re thinking: ‘Finally, she’s not running.’ But, you know, there’s a story there.”
Y/n’s voice softened; her smile more tender as she addressed her mother.
“I get it now. All those times you tried to guide me, protect me from the world, from heartbreak—I know you were just trying to give me the best. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn’t listening, or worse, like I didn’t care. I did. I always have. I just... I had to figure it out in my own stubborn way”
She paused, letting her words sink in. Her mother nodded, lips trembling with a smile that spoke volumes more than any words could.
“And Dad,” Y/n continued, her eyes finding her father’s across the room.
“You always knew, didn’t you? You saw something in Lewis long before I did. And me, being me, I just rolled my eyes, thinking you were too eager to hand me off.” She laughed, shaking her head.
“But you were right. As always. And you never pushed, never pressured. You let me come to my own conclusions, and for that, I’m so grateful. You knew I needed time to figure out that Lewis was my away to learn how to fly.”
A wave of emotion caught in her throat, but Y/n swallowed it down, keeping her tone light as she turned to address Lewis’s parents. Her smile softened as she met their eyes.
“And to my future in-laws—Carmen, Anthony and Linda – God, I can’t believe I’m saying that out loud—thank you for raising a man who is patient enough to deal with all of this.”
She gestured to herself with a grin, drawing laughter from the guests.
“I know you probably didn’t sign up for a daughter-in-law who has a habit of running. I know it hasn’t always been easy, watching us go through everything, but I hope you know how much I love him. Thank you for welcoming me, quirks and all, into your family with open arms. I promise to take care of him, to be the partner he deserves.”
She turned then, her gaze locking onto Lewis. The room seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.
“And you” she began, her voice softer, more intimate. “Lewis... where do I even start? You’ve been my constant when I was chaos, my anchor when I was drifting.”
Another pause, her voice almost choking as she took one of Lewis’s outstretched hands.
“I begged you to let me go. I was so scared—of us, of what we were becoming, of what I was feeling. I thought if I ran far enough, fast enough, I could escape it.”
She took a breath, her eyes glistening.
“But you—God, you just wouldn’t let me go, even when I didn’t deserve you. You stood there, you saw right through all my bravado, and you told me you weren’t going anywhere. That you’d wait. And you did.”
She said the last part almost to herself, nodding incredulously.
“You waited while I sorted through my mess, while I ran from something I didn’t fully understand.”
A tear slid down her cheek, and she let it fall freely.
“I’ve been thinking about this day for a long time—Feels like I’ve been calling you my partner, my best friend, my everything for so long, but now… Husband. That’s a whole new level. I mean, look at you, sitting there all smug, knowing you got me to sign my life away."
She let out a small laugh, lightening the mood for a moment as everyone else felt the tension ease, only for her expression to turn more reflective again.
"Seriously though … when I first met you, I wasn’t looking for forever. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I was looking for tomorrow. I was stuck, scared, trying to navigate my own storm, and you—you were like this ridiculous beacon of light, just… shining. And I couldn’t ignore you, even though I really wanted to."
She paused, smiling as she recalled those early days.
"I kept telling myself, ‘Don’t get involved, don’t fall for the guy with the world at his feet.’ But then you’d do something… something so small, like remembering how I take my coffee or noticing when I was having a bad day without me saying a word. You were patient when I needed time, persistent when I pushed you away, and through all my doubts and fears, you became the person I couldn’t imagine my life without."
Y/n looked down for a moment, taking a breath before continuing.
“You lit something up in me that I didn’t even know was there, something that made me feel like I was enough. Like maybe, just maybe, I could be more than the sum of my fears and insecurities.”
She paused, her eyes softening again as she looked at Lewis.
"We’ve been through it, haven’t we? And I don’t just mean the glamorous stuff. I’m talking about the hard nights, the distance, the moments where I didn’t know if we’d make it through.”
There was a soft murmur among the guests as Y/n’s voice lowered, the raw emotion in her words unmistakable.
“We’re standing here today because you never let go, even when I wasn’t sure I could hold on."
Then the room was silent once again, the weight of her words hanging in the air.
“You’ve taught me that love it’s something you choose, every single day. That it resides in the little things—the way you pull me closer when I need it, the way you let me push you away for a bit when I’m too scared to let you in. It’s about the quiet moments, when you’ve stayed by me even when I didn’t ask, because you knew I needed you. The times when you’ve held me together when I felt like falling apart.”
She took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly before she regained her composure.
“I know I haven’t always been the easiest person to love. I’ve put up walls, kept you at arm’s length because I was scared of what it might mean to really let you in. But you never gave up on me. You never walked away, even when I gave you every reason to.”
Y/n’s voice trembled, but she steadied herself with a deep breath.
“Falling for you felt like coming home. Like finding the place I was always meant to be, the place where all the chaos was worth it”
She looked back at Lewis, her eyes shining with and her voice thick.
"Lewis, you were my leap of faith. And trust me, I’ve never been a fan of heights. But with you, it’s all about rising. Rising above my fears, my insecurities, all the things that used to hold me back."
She paused, blinking back tears as she smiled at the guests.
“You’ve been my rock, my safe place, the one who’s seen me at my worst and still loved me through it all.”
She wiped her cheek with a shaky laugh.
“There’s something terrifying about that, isn’t there? The idea that someone could know you so completely, so intimately, and still choose to stay. You’ve chosen me, even when I wasn’t sure if I could choose myself.”
She took a deep breath, her voice trembling with emotion as she continued.
“I always think back to that night – you know the one – when I asked you if you’d catch me or if I’d have to learn to fly on my own. You didn’t hesitate. You just opened your arms and let me fall… fall into you.”
Y/n’s breathing trembled again.
“And that’s when I knew. No matter what happened, no matter where life took us, I’d never be alone. Because I had you. I had this incredible man who was willing to catch me, over and over again, no matter how many times I stumbled.”
Y/n’s voice broke slightly as she spoke her next words, her tears flowing freely now.
“I’ve always been scared of letting go, of giving myself over to someone completely. But with you, it doesn’t feel like falling. It feels like flying. Like coming home.”
Y/n took a moment to steady herself before she added, with a smile through her tears.
“Lewis, I’m all in. My husband, my partner, my leap of faith, you’re the one I choose, every day and in every way.”
Y/n wiped at the corner of her eye as she finished, giving Lewis’s hands that extra squeeze.
“So here’s to us, to our forever. I can’t promise I won’t drive you crazy, or that I’ll ever stop being a little bit of a mess, but I can promise to love you fiercely, endlessly, and with everything I have. Thank you for being my anchor, my safe place, and most importantly, for being you.
There was a pause as she took a last breath, her eyes never leaving his, her smile bright on her features.
"Okay, enough with the mushy stuff. Cheers—to love, to learning how to fly, to taking the leap."
______________________________________________________________
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luveline · 1 year
Note
Hello! Would it be alright to request something where prince!steve and his Princess attend their first formal event together?
tysm for requesting ♡ prince steve au
"Don't spill anything," Steve advises under his breath. "Your corset is alabaster." 
"I know. I feel like breathing the wrong way is gonna crack it like papier mache." 
He snorts, adjusting your hand on his arm to the correct position where you stand around a corner from the grand staircase. You wince as rich laughter bounces off the marble steps, the sound wrought with a feeling akin to hounds snapping at your heels. 
"Your nails look nice," Steve says. 
He's already complimented your face, your hair, and your dress. There's not much left to praise, but he finds something anyhow, and a flush of pleasure warms your skin. "Thank you," you say, looking down at your painted nails, a shimmering mother of pearl lacquer coating each one. The cost rivals a month's groceries. "They had so many colours… we started with red, but I thought it looked silly on me. My hands are weird." 
"Your hands are perfect." His eyes shine with sincerity, lips pulled into an amused smile that feels like a well-aimed bop to the chest. "I can get you more. Nail lacquer, I mean. There's a small Sri Lankan boutique by Cordelian House, they have all that intricate cosmetic stuff. It's where Munson gets his kohl sticks." He smiles at you reassuringly. "I'm trying to distract you. It's not working, is it?" 
"I'm going to mess up. Your mom– the queen–" 
"You can call her my mom. That's what she is." Steve nods his understanding of the things you've said without saying them. "She'll be disappointed if you mess up. But I won't be. I'm proud of you for even putting on the dress. I'd be proud of you if you didn't." 
You lick your lips, cherry balm sticky on the tip of your tongue. "Thank you, Steve." 
He says things like this with little regard for how forward it is. Not that subtlety is required. While antiquated in some aspects, the contemporary royal society is loudly lustful. You and Steve could be intimate together now weeks before the wedding and nobody would bat an eye, but you suspect that he's just as unprepared for that as you are, no matter how gently he covers your hand with his. 
There's a short sound like a bird call. Steve straightens his back, his thumb drawing a half circle across your fingers. "Ready?" he asks. 
You nod. You don't really have a choice. 
They announce you together, Prince Steven and his Soul Marked Y/N. It sounds ridiculous to hear his name after weeks of Please, call me Steve, or anything else but Steven. Doubly so to hear you announced as his and not yourself. A simple 'Miss' would have sufficed. Braced for a night of similar small agonies, you hold tight to Steve's arm and begin your descent down the grand staircase and into the foyer. The palace is a structure of white stone that shines silver in some lights, impossible walls of selenite and gauzy silks. The steps are more solid, a plain marble that clicks under the soles of your short heels. 
"Don't let me fall," you say under your breath, the hush of the crowd nearly occluding your voice completely. 
"Never." You can hear his polite smile. "Don't panic." 
You can't not panic, sweat at your naked collar, pearls like beads of ice bobbing with each step you take. The second you reach the floor you deflate with an exhale, your back clicking at the sudden decompression. There's a brief round of applause at your arrival before the cheery music begins anew, the dancing begins again, and the many faces that surround you blur into jewels and elegant clothes, fabrics coloured manilla white, snailshell purple, emerald green, a rainbow of satins swirling this way and that as girls are pushed into spins to the right of the foyer under the ballroom chandelier. 
"You'll dance with me, yeah?" Steve asks tentatively. 
You meet his eyes, all their soft brown gazing at you like you're worth his worry. His lashes twitch as his gaze darts swiftly down and up again. 
"Do I have something?" you ask, lifting your chin. 
"Lipstick. I can fix it?" He brings his hand to your lips before you've answered, using the trimmed nail of his pinky finger to wipe at your lip. You turn still as a porcelain statue, a shiver rushing down your chest at the warmth of his touch.
"You'll dance with me?" he asks again, his knuckle brushing your chin as he drops his hand. 
"Of course I'll dance with you, Steve. We're expected to." 
He throws a glance at the people around you and steps closer. "I want to dance with you because you want to dance. We don't have to do anything. Not this ball, not the dance. Not the wedding." He sighs. "You have choices." 
"No. I don't." Because there glows your wrist. Threads of translucency like spider web and downy feather combined, a sorry hue of blue. 
"Yes, you do," he whispers. "You want to leave? We'll leave right now. I just want you to be happy, and with me." 
You think about it. The weight of hundreds of eyes on your shoulders and the restriction of your corset is making you nauseous. If you left, that sickness would go. But Steve wouldn't get to dance with you.
"I don't want to leave," you say, not sure if you're lying or not. You'd quite like to have his hands on your hips again. And sometimes before the dip he breathes in your ear, says something soft, like Keep going, you got it. 
"No?" he asks, relieved. 
"No. Let's dance. We need the practice…" You offer your hand. He takes it, the smudge of lipstick on his pinky finger like a heart. "I'm sorry. I want to dance." 
"What are you sorry for?" he asks, leaning down to kiss the highest point of your cheek. "Let's dance. If you mess up, I'll mess up worse. I promise. I'll chicken dance in front of everybody." 
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syoddeye · 6 months
Text
useless, part two
Part Two of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. As a reminder, I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. Unfortunately I got carried away with this part, so I haven't used my third prompt yet. But that just means a Part Three is coming.
You could argue this fits 95. Attending an event together...
Read Part One. Tag list: @v1x3n @kiranezra
~2k words, Price x f!Reader. Enjoy!
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The ice bites through the steel shaker, your fingers sting, and the noise is a tick too loud, but both are decent distractions while you figure out what to say. In the corner of your eye, John watches with an amused look, tempting your elbow to somehow find his chin. When you finally stop, popping the cap to strain the vodka and vermouth, of course, he's already prepared with a snarky comment.
"Did it owe you money?"
"Yeah," you say, pulling an olive from a jar and dunking it into the glass. "Be glad you don't." 
John leans on the counter beside you. "I'd hate to cross you."
"That's new," you retort, savoring both his mildly confused look and the drink. "They feed you growth hormones in the army?"
He laughs. "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner."
You suppress a smile behind your glass and cross an arm over your front. "Are you back for long?"
His laughter peters out, and he shakes his head. "Nah, I leave tomorrow night."
"Mm," The noncommittal masks your wilting. You study John's face in the half-second pause. Since stepping foot in the house, no, since hearing about this soiree yesterday, he's plagued your thoughts. All those hours spent in each other's company for the better part of a year. That dumb fight resurfaces. You're not going to amount to anything! Classic John to prove you wrong. The jerk. 
"My mom told me you're doing well for yourself. You graduated something early? That you got into the SAS or whatever?"
"'Whatever'?" John scoffs, turning to face you better, enunciating each word as if you can't recite As You Like It by memory. "Yes. I'm doing well. You're looking at Lieutenant John Price, I'll have you know."
You arch an eyebrow. You know, in your gut, it is impressive. How or why is a mystery; it just is. Zero chance you'll let him know that. "And that's a big deal?"
"To some people."
"Well, I'm not 'some people'." You say with a tilt of your head.
"No, you're not," He answers a mite quieter before taking another swig and straightening. "Rumor mill says I'm looking at another promotion, maybe next year."
"What'll your title, er, rank be then?"
He smirks. "Captain."
You nod as if this again means something to you, a foreign civilian, and make a show of it. "Right," Your eyes hold each other in place in his parent's kitchen. A balloon of silence begs to be popped, for a decade's worth of fleeting memories and games of telephone through your mothers, to burst and ease the tension. And it's so typical, so John, that he hasn't even asked about y–
"And how're you faring?"
Stunning. Fucking karmic.
You can't stop yourself. "Oh, look at you, John Price. Did the army also finally teach you how to hold conversations?"
His eyes narrow a fraction, and that quizzical pinching of his brow returns. His lips part to speak, but a commotion at the entrance to the kitchen draws your attention. A pair of older men meander in, pink-faced and glassy-eyed, slurring the words to Auld Lang Syne two and a half hours too early. You take it for what it surely is, an out, and slip away. 
John's parents are eager enough to receive you in the crowded living room and return to their fawning. You'd rather wade through another stint of stilted conversation with their questions about your credits stateside or reminisce about embassy days than suffer John pretending to give a shit regarding your useless career.
You dance around speaking to him again, politely finding ways to dip in and out of conversations he thrusts himself into. The practice leverages all parts of your acting career and what you remember of the education your mother gave you. Smile, nod, ask leading questions, and watch for the interloper. It pays off, as John seems to eventually get the hint and fades into the background of the party.
When the clock strikes half past eleven and some ex-policy advisor nearly spills his ale on you, you decide it's time to sneak out. You've overstayed your allotted time. John's nowhere in sight, most guests are deep within their cups, and the giddiness of the impending countdown is palpable. It's easy enough to step into the front hall unseen without an ounce of guilt in your veins. You came, you saw, you drank expensive vodka, and made nice with your mother's friends.
Buttoning your coat, you step out into the night's chill and start down the steps. You're two paces from the garden gate when a man's voice pushes into your ear.
"Goin' somewhere?"
The two courses of stage combat you've completed guide your hand in a flat chop to the offending jugular. The owner of said jugular, however, catches the blow with an arm, then laughs, a rich and deep sound, to drive the humiliation home.
"John, Jesus Christ, you complete asshole!" You hiss, turning to shove the man standing in the shadows behind you. 
"There she is," He cracks, still chuckling. "Didn't mean to scare you."
"Yeah right, you absolute-"
"Arse?" His hands rise in defense when you glare, the glow of a cigar catching your eye before he lowers it to his mouth for a puff. It's a moment before his mouth opens, the tobacco scent permeating the short distance between you. "Just out for a smoke."
Wrinkling your nose, you sigh. "That is awful for your health."
"So's my line of work," He counters.
"Fair point."
"Glad you think so."
You stare at him again. Admittedly, it's hard not to. Even in the dark, the glint of his steady gaze tethers. Maybe it's the military thing—like he's learned to restrain people without touching them. It must be because it couldn't be anything else. A shiver compels you to speak. "I have to get going."
"So close to the bell?"
"I need to prepare for an audition," You lie. There is no audition. The only thing waiting for you at home is an inherited prompt book for Kiss Me Kate to work on.
"I'll walk you to the station."
"You don't need to do that."
John corrals you toward the gate, his accompaniment apparently a foregone conclusion, and holds it open as you pass. "C'mon. It's been ten years. You used to escort me all the time."
You huff. "That was security, not me."
"You were always in the car, weren't you?"
John sticks to your side despite your protests, which last for all of one street. You slip once, and his arm offers itself immediately, which you take only for stability. Beneath the layers, his muscle is firm and a sure thing, unchallenged by your leaning on it. He's always been strong. 
"Is there a reason you avoided me all night?" he asks suddenly, showing you the small mercy of keeping his eyes trained forward.
The walk is slick, and you realize that a minute too late, his arm is both a gentlemanly safeguard and a leash.
"I didn't avoid you."
"No, you just ran off again before I could talk to you."
Ran off again. The lout remembers. Has to.
"Fine. I wasn't in the mood to be reminded of my failures."
He scoffs, arm flexing to squeeze your hand. "You weren't a failure. Furthest thing from it."
"I'm not talking about school, John," you snap, exasperated. You regret ever wishing he'd inquire after you. "I don't—I don't want to talk about that." You see him glance in your periphery and then search the air for a way forward. You provide it.
"So, Captain. That's a big deal." As much as it kills you, it's easier to speak of his successes. "Bet your parents are over the moon."
John sighs. "They're thrilled."
"You do anything particularly insane to earn it?"
"Can't tell you," he answers automatically, a notch more serious, his cigar adding a touch of drama.
You pat his arm. "You'd have to kill me?"
"Something like that."
A few minutes pass in silence. Muffled music and cheers trickle through open windows on either side of the streets. Midnight rapidly approaches, as does the station.
"You seeing anyone?"
Oof. Maybe you should've spoken about your failing acting career. At least that had some color and excitement.
"No. My boyfriend, uh, ex-boyfriend ended things a week ago."
John stops, gently tugging when you nearly stumble. His expression is difficult to read between lampposts, but his tone suggests contempt. "At Christmas?" 
You want to laugh at his incredulity, the pure scandal in his voice. But you don't. He's gone all serious again. "Two days before, actually. It's alright though," you nudge him to walk again. "It wasn't anything serious."
It's the truth. Jeff was a middling boyfriend. He was never going to go the distance. He'd been a half-decent romp and someone to drink with. 
"Well he seems like a serious idiot."
"I won't fight you on that," you shrug. "And you, Captain? I bet you must beat them off with a stick in uniform."
He chuckles, releasing smoke. "I'm not a Captain yet. And I'm too busy."
"You'll make Captain," you say a little too quickly, too confidently, snapping your focus back to the stairs to the station ahead. "I can make it from here."
John seems to consider it. He's quiet before he snuffs out his cigar on a bin. "I'll walk down with you."
You descend the steps arm in arm, passing a giggling, buzzed couple on their way up.
"It's a shame you're leaving before midnight, Cinderella," John teases as you stroll slowly into the virtually empty tunnel. His head is on a swivel. Ever the soldier, apparently.
The ground is dry and even below street level. There's no need to keep his arm.
"Yeah, well, I'd rather not stick around to see everything turn back into pumpkins," you check the time. The train is due at 12:02 AM.
John seems almost on edge as he looks around. You feel a slight, frenetic energy reverberating where your arms touch, mismatching the absolute rigidity of his bearing. His eyes are wilder when they meet yours, and his head dips slightly.
You frown. "What's wrong?"
"It's good luck to kiss somebody at midnight." He all but blurts out.
Your hold on his arm loosens, but he grips back firmer. "That's what's got you in a tizzy?"
"I don't know about you, but I'm going to need all the luck I can get this next year."
What is he going on about? His promotion? You're unsure if you like how he's looking at you. "John—"
A trio on the platform starts counting down some distance away, but the sound carries.
"Please." It's earnest. It's certain.
You bite your cheek, searching for any hint of this being a joke. "Just a friendly peck." you clarify.
"'Course." He reels you in, eyes half-lidded, closing in suddenly with a barely held-back urgency.
A hand cupping the back of your head knocks a gasp out of you. "It doesn't change anything." You quickly add.
"Not a thing."
Cheers erupt down the platform, but you barely hear them over the roar of blood in your ears. John's mouth is a force. It's earnest. It's certain. It was never going to be a friendly peck. You've kissed many people on stage and off, but never quite like this.
The train's rumbling knocks you back into reality. You're both breathing heavier. John's eyes darken with a hungry look, and everything in his posture suggests he's after more. Your name slips from his mouth like a command.
"Stay," he orders.
But you're not a soldier. You've never even played one. You're not equipped to face whatever this is—what that was. The doors to the car open behind you, and his eyes flicker toward them as if to will them shut. You shake your head imperceptibly.
"Happy New Years, John."
You step into the train, a coward. You don't look back to see if he watches the train depart, but you know he does.
It's another fourteen years before you see John Price again.
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dark-and-kawaii · 9 months
Note
I'm for disturbing you but I desperately need raphael who is so soft to the tav but tries to keep his act together in front of others which leaves tav chuckling which makes him blush aaaaaaaa
༺ 𝒜 𝒲𝒾𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝐹𝒶𝒸𝒶𝒹𝑒 ༻
Raphael
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Notes: Firstly, you aren’t disturbing me!!! Secondly, thank you so much for this request!!! I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy it!!! I love soft Raphael especially when he’s still in character!!!
Pairings: Raphael x Tav/Reader
Soft Raphael - Love - He Love His Little Mouse
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In the midst of Avernus, a grand gathering was taking place. It was teeming with all kinds of devils, infernal beings, and wicked creatures, each indulging in their debauchery. At the center stood Raphael, his existence echoed with undeniable authority. By his side stood you, the object of his uncharacteristically soft affection.
Raphael, relishing in the attention, was entertaining a mesmerized group of devils with a tale of his prowess.
"I'll strike down Zarielle and all who defy me.” He declared, a devilish grin adorning his face. "Her imps torn asunder, their cries heard through Avernus in the wake of my wrath!" Yet, amidst his terrifying proclamation, a familiar chuckle reached his ears, it was coming from beside him. Turning sharply, Raphael sees you trying to suppress your laughter, your eyes shining with amusement. Without uttering a word, you walked away, disappearing into the sea of devils, leaving him with a tint of pink on his cheeks, his brows furrowing in irritation.
The other devils, ever so vigilant and quick to seize upon any sign of weakness, noticed Raphael's flushed cheeks. They took pleasure in mocking him, relishing the opportunity to undermine his reputation. "You sure you're going to strike Zarielle down when a simple mortal’s giggle nearly puts you on your ass?" jeered one, his voice dripping with malicious delight.
Raphael's pride was stuck, and he warned the imp's taunting words. "If you don't mind your tongue," he retorted through gritted teeth, "I'd happily demonstrate what it is I'd do to Zarielle."
Raphael, being easily irritated by anything that challenged his superiority, sought you out with a grimace. He navigated through the crowd, eventually locating you chatting with a group of lesser fiends. He seized your arm, his grip on you harsh and forceful as he dragged you away from the crowd. Spiteful and filled with frustration, Raphael grasped your chin forcefully, his presence emanating a wicked energy.
"Perhaps I've spoiled you too much, little mouse," he stated with a voice laced in spite. "What was the meaning of that little outburst of yours?"
You looked up at him meeting his piercing gaze, his beautiful brown eyes is like immersing oneself in warm melted chocolate, rich and enticing. The depth and intensity of his stare captivates, drawing you further into him… Standing on your tiptoes, you gently press your lips against his in a tender kiss. Raphael’s hands instinctively find their place on your hips with a gentle yet firm grip. His fingertips tracing the contours of your hip, grazing the fabric of your clothing.
As your lips part, you whisper in a hushed voice, "It's amusing to me how all the others are blinded by your wicked facade. They would never guess that the great Raphael, son of Mephistopheles, harbors such tenderness within." Your fingers trace a light path through his hair, "A fox's soft side, a treasure I alone possess,"
Your fingertips caressing his dark tresses, “You're not all sharp claws and fangs, but a creature who cradles his prey tenderly in the night." You smiled warmly as his face began to scrunch, his grip tightening ever so slightly but Raphael remained silent, "Protecting her instead of devouring her whole.” You noticed his reddening face and continued, "The mouse, enamored by the fox's gentle touch, yearns for its claws tracing down her back in every night's embrace when their souls entwine."
Raphael's cheeks flushed with a small blush. His defenses threatened to crumble, replaced momentarily with vulnerability. Yet, as he regained his composure, a sly smirk formed on his lips. "Oh little mouse," he retorted with an edge in his voice, attempting to regain his devilish demeanor, "naivety clouds your eyes, for wickedness resides where tenderness lies.” A dark chuckle emanated from Raphael, "Beware, dear mouse, of the sly fox’s cunning grace, as he may cast aside what’s left of his prey with no remorse to trace.” He looks off into his crowded house, his eyes finding Haarlep as his hand rests on his chin, “I’m sure Haarlep would surely make good use of what's left of you."
You, however, knew Raphael better than anyone else. You understood the possessiveness that fueled his words, the depth of his affection for you, "The fox is far too possessive to let such a fate befall his treasured mouse. Your threats only reveal how deeply you care."
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mimisempai · 5 months
Text
I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 7/8
Chapter summary - First date?
Has the long-awaited moment arrived?
On Ao3
Rating G -  2627 words
Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter
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Crowley's apartment - 2024 
I WANT TO MEET YOU! 
FOR REAL THIS TIME!
Crowley turned the drawing over and saw that Aziraphale had added a few words.
Answer me after 6 pm, I'll be waiting by the mailbox.
Crowley looked at the clock, it was 4:10.
He grabbed his notepad and pencil and headed for the lake house.
Arriving a few minutes after 6 p.m., he went to the mailbox, scribbled quickly in his notebook, tore out the page, and after placing it in the box, raised the small flag.
The flag lowered almost immediately, telling him that Aziraphale was there and marking the beginning of another conversation punctuated by its movement.
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Lake House - 2022 - 6:07pm
Aziraphale paced around the mailbox, avoiding looking at his watch every minute, wondering if he'd scared Crowley off with his request for a meeting.
What if Crowley didn't want to see him?
What if the correspondence was enough for him?
The flag suddenly rose, startling him.
With a shaking hand, he grabbed the small piece of paper from the box, read Crowley's reply, and then grabbed his pen.
C:How?
A:Pick a place. I'll be there. I promise. How about tomorrow?
C:That's not tomorrow for you. You'll have to wait two years.
A: I don't care. I'll wait. Meet me tomorrow at the restaurant of your choice and I'll be there. I'll be two years older, but I'll be there.
C:What will you do all the time?
A: Thinking about you. Restoring a lot of things, reading a lot of books, praying I don't lose my hair....
C:Are you sure?
A: I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I've lost so much time already. I don't want to waste any more with you.
Crowley suddenly felt almost dizzy. 
He realized that Aziraphale had had two years to prepare for this date, while Crowley had less than twenty-four hours. He took a deep breath before closing the mailbox.
C: See you tomorrow night.
A: See you in two years. Where do you want to go?
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The Ritz - 2022
Aziraphale entered the restaurant and was immediately greeted by a smiling hostess.
He smiled back and said softly, "Good Evening, I'd like to make a reservation for two."
She flipped through the reservation booklet before saying in an apologetic tone, "Well, I'm sorry, I'm afraid it's extremely difficult to get a reservation this time of year. I mean, it depends on when you want to dine here."
Aziraphale replied with an amused smile, "Two years from tomorrow. September 15, 2024."
The hostess blinked several times, then closed the book before replying with a broad smile, "We should be able to accommodate you, sir."
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Crowley's apartment - September 15, 2024 - Morning
Crowley prepared to leave for work. He looked at the outfit he had prepared for this evening. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been this excited for a date.
In fact, he couldn't remember ever being this excited.
Rainbow Academie - September 15, 2024 - 5 p.m.
As he was packing up after his last class of the day and looking forward to the evening ahead, he was jolted from his reverie by Eric's arrival in the classroom.
His friend exclaimed, "Thank God you're still here."
"Of course." 
Eric continued sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I know it's not your week, but could you take the detention I'm supposed to supervise? Muriel called me because they're not doing so well. You know, ever since they lost their friend, it's been a little difficult for them, and today is a bad day, and I'd like to be there for them..."
Crowley looked at his watch and sighed before replying, "Yes, I can, but one hour, no more. I've got a date." 
Eric hugged him and replied, "Thank you, thank you! I promise, it's just an hour, no more. But I want to hear all about this date tomorrow, okay?"
Crowley shook his head and chuckled, "Okay, okay, go meet Muriel! It's important to be with your loved ones when they need you."
Before he left, Eric threw over his shoulder, "I don't know who that is, but I've never seen you smile like that, Crowley, and it suits you! Bye!"
He was gone before Crowley had time to answer.
A little over an hour later, he was walking briskly to his apartment. He entered hurriedly, ran into the room and undressed, throwing his clothes everywhere.
Harry followed, curious, while Crowley muttered, "He waited two years. What's a few more minutes? Isn't it?"
He continued his preparations, but at a slower pace. He put on a dark red V-neck sweater, a shade he knew would bring out his eyes, or so the saleswoman had told him, and black pants that flattered his figure. He looked at himself in the mirror two or three times, checked his hairstyle, then shrugged and left the apartment. 
A few minutes later he left the building and drove his Bentley to the restaurant.
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The Ritz - 15 September 2024 - 7pm
Crowley paused before entering. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. He was ready, a little nervous but confident. 
He opened the door with a firm hand.
He took off his coat and scanned the room with his eyes. 
There weren't many tables, but before he could find Aziraphale, the hostess approached him.
"Good evening, sir, may I help you?"
Crowley cleared his throat, "Yes, I have a reservation. Anthony. Or Fell, I'm not sure which name it was made under."
The hostess checked her book and looked up with a big smile, "Oh yes! You're the..." she paused before pulling herself together, "Follow me, please."
Crowley was led to a table for two. 
It was empty, which surprised him a bit.
The hostess turned to him and said, a little embarrassed, "I hope you'll forgive me, but I have to ask..."
"Yes?"
"This reservation is kind of... legendary. It's been here longer than some people of the staff. There's always been intense speculation about who made it and why, and whether you'd actually show up. Some team members even made bets..."
Crowley looked around and saw that waiters all over the room were giving him furtive glances. Chefs and kitchen helpers peered through the kitchen door. Crowley felt suddenly very embarrassed.
The hostess apologized immediately: "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... I'll have the waiter take your drink order right away."
A short time later, a waiter returned and poured Crowley a glass of champagne.
"Compliments of the chef." 
Crowley nodded his thanks.
Just before leaving, the waiter gave him a small smile: "Good luck."
Crowley began to sip the champagne, hoping to calm his growing nervousness.
Some time later, his glass was empty and he was still waiting, alone at the table. The waiter approached to refill his glass, but Crowley stopped him.
He was aware that the restaurant staff was watching him, whispering among themselves. Two hours passed, other customers lingering over dessert, coffee, intimate conversation at candlelit tables.
Crowley was still alone.
After a long moment, he pushed back his chair and stood. Everyone looked at him sadly.
He walked forward, expressionless, and picked up his coat, saying nothing to anyone before leaving under the sad gaze of the hostess who watched him go. 
Crowley returned home alone. Behind the closed door of his apartment, his stoic facade began to crumble, and he could barely hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes.
He picked up a piece of paper and started to write, but in the end, he didn't have the heart. 
Not now.
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Lake House - September 16, 2022
The weather was gray and windy this morning as Aziraphale stood outside his mailbox and unfolded Crowley's note.
 "YOU WEREN'T THERE."
The antiquarian shook his head, confused, and let some time pass before answering.
A: I'm so sorry. I just don't understand. 
Something must have happened. 
Look, I've got two years ahead of me. I'll try to make things right.
C: No, Aziraphale... You don't understand. It's too late for that. It's already happened.
I'm not upset. I mean, I was at first. 
But now I just feel stupid... for forgetting how much a person's life can change in two years. 
And for expecting yours not to. 
For expecting you to wait, to stand still, to put your life on hold for me.
A: But I can do it. I can wait for you. I know I can. I won't forget.
C: Maybe you have. Maybe, wherever you are, you're busy and happy and living so fully in the present that the dinner you planned two years ago just... slipped out of your mind. Just as you forget impossible fantasies when they're over, when you move on to real life.
A: You mean I should get on with my real life?
C: I mean... I think we both should.
After seeing his words, Aziraphale hurried to reply, his hand trembling with emotion.
Please write me, answer me.
Aziraphale placed his letter in the mailbox and raised the flag. 
The little flag stayed up.
An hour later, with the flag still up, Aziraphale opened the mailbox to find the note he'd put there.
Hours, then days, then weeks, then months passed as Aziraphale wrote and mailed letter after letter. Eventually, there was a pile of his letters in the box. They kept piling up, unanswered. Until the box was so full that Aziraphale couldn't put any more letters in it.
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The Dirty Donkey - February 2025
It was late winter and everything outside was covered in snow.
Crowley sat at a table with Eric, Anathema, and Newt.
They met here at least once a week after work.
As Newt and Anathema bickered as usual, Eric leaned over to Crowley and, placing a hand on his arm, asked gently, "Are you okay?"
Crowley mustered a half-smile and answered honestly, for Eric was one of the few people who could read him, "I'm better."
"Still writing your mysterious pen pal?"
Crowley, his throat tightening, couldn't answer and shook his head.
Eric just said, without insisting, "Sorry, Crowley, if you need to talk, you know my phone number."
Crowley didn't answer.
Later, when he got home, he found a message on his answering machine.
"Hello Crowley. This is Furfur. I'm in town. I had to come in for a meeting."
Crowley started to press the button to erase the message when Furfur's voice continued, "A real meeting this time. I swear to you. Call me. If you feel like it."
The next evening, Crowley and Furfur sat in the pizzeria where they'd met a few months ago. Neither of them really felt well.
Furfur said quietly, "I didn't think you'd come."
Crowley replied wryly, "Nothing personal, but..."
Furfur interrupted, "You couldn't say no to a free meal."
"Exactly." 
They both laughed, lightening the mood a bit.
Then Crowley asked, "So how did your 'meeting' go?"
Furfur looked slightly offended by Crowley's emphasis on the word "meeting" and replied, "I told you I didn't make it up, it really happened. They offered me a job, with a bigger firm. I'm going to be a legal advisor on wealth matters," he smiled proudly before continuing, "Call them if you don't believe me."
A little later they arrived at Crowley's residence, which was on the way to Furfur's hotel. They stopped at the door.
Furfur said softly, "I took this job because I wanted to. This has nothing to do with you. With us. This is not an ambush, Crowley."
Crowley nodded and replied quietly, "Well, that's great news.  Congratulations, Furfur. I'm really happy for you."
Furfur smiled, "Thank you, and thank you for agreeing to meet me."
Crowley leaned over and gave him a quick good night kiss. Furfur looked surprised and pleased. 
Crowley looked at him, it was comforting and familiar, almost tempting when he felt so lonely, but then his eyes slipped to the tree behind Furfur. Its leaves swayed in the night air. It was the tree that Aziraphale had planted. 
Crowley looked at it for a few seconds, remembering the day it had appeared, the joy he had felt then, and in that moment he knew.
He closed his eyes and shook his head before saying sheepishly, "No, I'm sorry, Furfur, but I can't. I thought for a moment I could... but I can't."
Furfur nodded and said, "I know. Don't be sorry. I didn't expect anything. I didn't lie to you."
A little ashamed, Crowley apologized again, and after a tearful goodbye, he watched Furfur leave.
As he made his way back to his apartment, he muttered to himself, "I may not be able to meet Aziraphale, but I can't lie to myself either."
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Lake house - 2023
It was so cold that the surface of the lake was frozen. 
The mailbox was covered with snow. Aziraphale, who had been walking outside, reflexively looked into the it. Even after all this time. 
It was empty, of course. 
He closed it slowly, feeling sad as always, so sad.
Distracted, he first didn't notice Harry moving quickly away, towards the forest until he finally looked back and saw it.
"Harry! Come back!"
Harry took off running. 
Aziraphale ran after him, but soon, in the density of the forest, he no longer saw the rabbit. Aziraphale ran straight ahead, still calling. He tripped over a stump and fell into the snow, got up and called again, looking around distraught. 
Harry was really gone.
Aziraphale was about to run again when he suddenly stopped. 
He'd just realized something.
Harry was about to find his new owner.
Aziraphale knew what to do.
A few days later, he was talking to Muriel in the living room.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
Aziraphale replied wistfully, "Yes, I have to move on, I can't stay here. I... I can only think of him."
Muriel nodded, understanding, and added simply, "If you need help, you can count on me."
A few weeks later, Aziraphale tidied up the house with method and determination. He taped boxes together and tossed his belongings into them. He bagged the trash, swept and mopped.
As he tidied up, he found the pile of Crowley's letters. He looked at them for a moment, then wrapped them up and shoved them in the bottom of a cardboard box before carrying the box up to the attic and sealing it.
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Real Estate Agency X - London - 2023
Aziraphale checked the address on the business card in his hand before entering and heading for the reception desk.
"Hello, I'd like to speak to Furfur, sorry, Ferdinand Stamper. I don't have an appointment, but tell him it's Aziraphale and it's urgent."
A few minutes later he saw Furfur arrive in the entrance hall and he beckoned him to follow him into an adjoining meeting room.  He barely greeted him and didn't seem very happy to see him. 
Aziraphale didn't wait and asked him directly, "Are you still interested in renting a house on the lake?" 
He didn't wait for an answer and threw him a bunch of keys. 
Furfur looked confused as Aziraphale continued, "This is what Crowley wants."
Furfur asked in an irritated tone, "How can you know that? How do you know what he wants? Besides, we're not even..." 
Aziraphale shook his head, "I don't want to know, but believe me, this is what he wants."
He waited no longer and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Later, when Furfur opened his car, something in the distance caught his eye. A rabbit was walking slowly down the road, looking a little lost until it came right up to him. 
Furfur recognized it.
It was Harry
_________
You want to curse me? But what if I told you that in five minutes... you'll have the rest of the story?
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
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missuswalker · 1 year
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notes || craig tucker x fem reader
✮ summary: craig tucker hated you with a passion. (at least that's what you thought) when he starts passing you notes, you start to kinda, maybe not hate him so much. (pt two here)
✮ warnings: none i guess, too many uses of the words 'folded' and 'unfolded'
requested, but i didn't think about just writing this with the reply 😻
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"Girl, you have no idea how stupid he looked," Bebe snorts. She was currently ten minutes in to another rant about her new boyfriend, who to me, honestly didn't seem so bad. "He tries way too hard," I respond, just to support my friend. Girls supporting girls, I guess.
I glance to the front of the classroom, Mrs. Garrison in a heated argument with another student about something political, though it didn't come as much of a surprise to see this scene playing out again. I don't pay much mind, beginning to draw random shapes and lines in the corner of my homework, which should've been done three days ago, but I'd get there.
I feel something hit the back of my head, turning around quickly to see Craig Tucker with a smug look on his stupid face. Oh, how I hated Craig Tucker. I hated his dumb voice, and his stoic expression. I hated his hat and his barely-Walmart-worthy t-shirts. I especially hated how he went out of his way to agitate me. I roll my eyes, looking to the floor to find a crumpled up paper ball. I snatch it up, tossing it back, earning the middle finger from the boy in the blue hat.
"Open it, dumbass," he hisses, leaning forward to push the paper back into my hand. I let out an annoyed huff, turning back around in my seat, placing the crumpled up paper in the corner of my desk. "Dumb bitch," I mumble to myself, going back to doodling.
I feel my seat jerk forward a bit, thanks to Craig kicking the leg of my chair. Jesus Christ, give me a break. Without looking back at him, since I already knew what he wanted, I take the paper, beginning to unfold it, doing my best not to tear the already crumpled note. I read over it for a moment, sighing. All the note said was, "hey." I narrow my eyes in confusion, before scribbling out a response, that may or may not have been "shut the fuck up."
Folding it neatly and tossing it back, I notice Craig had taken that stupid hat off for once. Well, damn. It's not like it changed his appearance in any way, and definitely didn't mean I was suddenly attracted to him, but maybe I was. His dark, messy hair fell over his forehead as he picked up the note, unfolding it, and scoffing. I blamed my staring on wanting to see his reaction before turning to face Bebe, who gave me a questioning look.
"You can't be serious," She whispers, looking between Craig and I. I deadpan at what she was insinuating, giving her a 'what the fuck' sort of look. "What, are you guys planning your next hookup or something?" Bebe adds, an amused look on her face as she watches Craig write on the same paper. "You're disgusting." I answer, glancing back up to the front.
"Y/n." I turn around, seeing Craig holding out the paper, which was once again crumpled up. I take it from his hand, turning back to open it, my curiosity getting the better of me. I raise an eyebrow at the note he'd written back, his handwriting surprisingly legible. Kinda. "fuck you, i was going to give you a compliment," the note read. Yeah, good shit. Like I believe that. I simply write an "ok," dropping it back on his desk unfolded.
Once again, I wait for his reaction. Well... kinda. I spent more time looking at his hands, which held the paper up, and his jawline, and his pretty eyes. What the fuck... I turn back around, deciding I spent enough time looking at Craig. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
Every once in a while, (more like, at least, once a day) I would catch myself admiring him a little bit. I didn't like him or anything, it's just easy to look at an attractive person. Not that he was attractive.
The paper ends up falling over my shoulder and into my lap, drawing a sigh out of me. Could this kid just talk like a normal person? I unfold it for the millionth time, though I couldn't help but stop and pause for a moment.
"you look really pretty in that color"
Did he really just say I looked pretty? This had to be a way of him getting on my nerves again, right? I stared at the paper blankly, before picking up my pen and writing back a, "what?"
It was only a few moments after I handed it back, to get it tossed over my shoulder again. I was almost excited to see his response, before remembering that it was Craig Tucker, the boy who I've 'hated' for, like, years. This time it was only folded over once. I read it, suddenly feeling a shift in my body temperature. I'm almost embarrassed to say that I was blushing over this. Craig Tucker is not someone who I would've thought I'd be blushing over.
"i heard kenny was going to ask you out and i wanted to get to you before he did"
That's all the note said. I couldn't tell if he was joking or if it was meant to annoy me. I turn back to give him a look, but he was already turned away, his chin resting in his hand as he stared out of the window. His eyes glance to me, but quickly dart away. What the fuck?
I write back, "are you serious," dropping on his desk, and turning around again. I could hear Bebe snickering to my left, but I ignored her, hundreds of thoughts going through my head. No way in hell Craig was flirting with me. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head, which really made me want to turn around, but I stayed put until the infamous piece of paper landed in my lap again.
"i'm serious. sorry for being such a dick. i kinda think you're okay and i wanna take you out"
What. The. Fuck.
I wanted to say no. I should've said no. I couldn't. I said yes. I let that bastard win. Looking back as I waited for his reaction, I did my best to hide my smile as he grinned down at the paper.
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renaultphile · 6 months
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Propaganda for Andrew's moral code....
Time for a bit of Andrew love I think.
@telltaleangelina I loved your post about Ralph/Laurie’s philosophy of life compared with Andrew’s, which so resonated with me - they have a kind of heroic idealism which is very attractive, and apart from anything else it supplies most of the drama and action of the book!
But it also made me want to think more about Andrew and his motivations. So, inspired by the 'Hot Austen men' polls, here is some propaganda for Andrew. At fifteen he had to decide whether to throw in his lot with the military side of his family or the pacifist one, and it is made clear he took this decision seriously:
“I thought all around it. I thought there might conceivably even be some circumstances when I felt it was right to kill. If I knew whom I was killing and the circumstance and the nature of the responsibility. What I finally stuck at was surrendering my moral choice to men I'd never met, about whose moral standards I knew nothing whatever."
He becomes a CO not to abrogate moral responsibility but so that he can take responsibility for his actions.  Later he and Laurie have this exchange:
“One has to draw the line where one sees it oneself."
"Is that what you call the inner light?"
"If you like, yes."
So the thing that strikes me about the Charlot incident is that his principled stance is not blind faith or rigidity of thought. His main regret is that fighting with Laurie prevented him finding a solution to the problem.  He says:
“If I ... if my mind had been where it should have been, I'd have known what ought to be done, something would have come to me."
Laurie says:
"I do this kind of thing. I get steamed up about things that happen to people till I've got to do something or burst, and if it turns out to do more harm than good, hell, what's the odds, it did good to me. At school for instance. A man -- one of the boys I mean, was going to be sacked, and because I liked him I took for granted he couldn't have done it, and I was all set to have raised hell and involved a lot of other people. And all the time he'd done it after all."
Laurie admits that actually it feels good to ‘do’ something, even if the other person doesn't want it. It is easy to see that both of them have a valid point when it comes to the practicalities.  But for me, the point is that as long as they are trying to impose their will on each other, and operating from a place of ego, there is no possibility of finding another solution.  There are a hundred things they could have done to ease Charlot’s last moments if they had stopped thinking about themselves for one moment.  I think it's interesting for example that Laurie is the only person Charlot still recognises but he wants to 'outsource' comfort to someone else.
And then I realised that when Laurie is referring back to his 16 year old self getting 'steamed up' it is Ralph who points out to him that however much he might ‘want’ to ‘do’ something, it will be hurting other innocent people such as his own family (and very likely including Ralph himself).
Often, Laurie is annoyed at Ralph's inability to stand by.  The bit on the stairs at the party, for instance, and the bit where he tells Ralph "You can't eat and breathe for me, or live for me. No one can."  Pretty strong stuff to say to the man you just made passionate love to a moment ago! And let's not forget the comment about the drunk trying to mend the watch.
Sometimes I think the really sad thing is that Laurie is locked in to a different system of morality (The Phaedrus), one which means he is Andrew’s mentor and protector and Andrew is the innocent and therefore had no real moral agency. I'm not sure that means he could have or should have been with Andrew as a romantic partner, but the loss of that relationship feels real to me.
And finally....I think you have made me understand something that has always puzzled/amused me a little bit about the arguments that Laurie/Ralph have. He uses all those military analogies that seem to suggest that even while he sees that Ralph is trying to dominate him and battles with it, he is also, kind of, comfortable with it. And maybe it is that he sees himself in Ralph, he completely understands why Ralph is behaving the way he does. I always find that so touching (a little bit funny too, especially the captain shouting 'fire'!)
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ladyofvoss · 19 days
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FFXIVWrite 2024 #4: Reticent
adjective: inclined to be silent or uncommunicative in speech; reluctant
set to when Thalia's mother and uncles were young and silly.
"There you are. I thought I'd find you moping here."
Theodard looked up from where he was admiring the palace florals, noticing his sister peering down at him.
"I'm not moping", he muttered.
"Of course not", Seliene observed, sweeping into the open gardens and gliding to a spot on the bench beside him, "You were simply glowering at the shrubs because they could not compare to Mother's. But don't let the royal gardeners see. They might take great offense."
Her silly joke seemed to have the intended effect, as Theodard snorted. Seliene Voss was not one for jokes, and when she made them....
Well, they were still terrible. But Theo would laugh anyway. Especially if his big sister was making the effort to cheer him.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Theo."
Ah, and there it was. No teasing anymore. Theo knew that beyond the corridors behind them, within the royal court, a mess awaited them.
Had he meant to be so discourteous? No. But he had been hounded for nigh on a season by this rather persistent lord's daughter. Utterly besotted, utterly smitten, and utterly incapable of understanding his attempts at rebuffing.
He had no intention to marry. At all, really. He had always had an underlying reluctance for years, a reluctance that was only made known to his family. There was no need to involve every stranger in the innerworkings of his mind, his wants and desires.
Though that didn't seem the case anymore.
It all seemed to come to a head at this royal function, where after once again being cornered, Theo had no choice but to be far more curt and blunt than he'd like in his rejection.
And now the lordling's daughter was near hysterical with her wounded pride.
"What will Mother and Father think?"
Seliene tsked, settling comfortable in her spot and looping her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder. "Mother and Father will think to have a word with the noble father of this unwelcome admirer. And until then, Esmond and I will handle it."
She must have noticed the uncertainty in Theo's look. Their brother was smart, the smartest man he knew. But he was no diplomat, having taken better to the life of academia than politics. Seliene simply shrugged at his unvoiced concern.
"Esmond will be fine. He's a gentleman and a scholar after all. Everyone loves listening to scholars. Makes them feel smarter simply by being in proximity to the conversation."
Leave it to his sister to start with a compliment only to end with a sharp cut with impunity. The duality of politicians, he thought with amusement.
But right now he didn't have Seliene Voss, rising star in Ul'dahs' court, unchallenged victor in many a verbal spar. Right now, he had Lulu, his big sister, and it was a comfort to know.
"You don't have to, you know."
Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Theo glanced down to see Seliene admiring one of the flowerbeds. She was casual in her appearance, having not moved from where she was leaning on his arm, one foot drawing lazy circles on the cobblestones. Yet her voice spoke otherwise.
"You don't have to", she repeated, "get married, I mean. None of us ever cared about that sort of thing. And we won't let anyone make you." A squeeze to his arm. "You know that, don't you?"
It was true, wasn't it? After all, Esmond remained with the other nobles, fielding the worst of it, and Seliene was here with him, not just to calm his nerves but to also discourage anyone who would disturb them, with a single sharp look or an even sharper remark.
It would be fine, because he had them.
"Yes", he answered eventually, feeling the tension leave him, "I know."
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starflungwaddledee · 10 months
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clearing my inbox of a variety of asks with text replies, or ones that will get art answers later but that i still figured i could get back to now with simpler responses in the interim.
lots of anons, but i'll ping anyone who i can!
topics include: general nice words + people's theories (thank you!!), dededesign, daroach (sorry), sentient ancient artifacts, magolor (sorry...), whispy woods (SORRY...). there's also a decent scattering of awtdy and clockwork heart tidbits but they're all over the place, and a small collection of increasingly desperate asks hoping bandee will be released from morpho dee 😂
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oohh this one is actually super old, sorry that i never got back to it! i get a little overwhelmed by the Nice Words ones sometimes and i'm not sure what to say besides 'thank you!!' because it means a lot to me and 'thank you!' just sometimes feels like it doesn't cut it...?
anyway, i'm very grateful!! i'm thrilled if i could inspire you to try out any constructed-language work of your own!! i'd love to see more of that going on in the kirbyverse so if you ever give it a crack feel free to lmk!
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i'm glad you like the full penguin dededesign; quite a few folks seemed to enjoy that actually and i was pleasantly surprised! i haven't drawn that much of most characters besides bandee, to be fair, but the next comic will be about dedede and should answer some of the other questions i've been getting about him too!
i should say that it's likely the totally full penguin design won't make it for the comic, because it's hard to draw the sheer length of their bills from many angles or having the expressiveness i need for dedede, and i really only did that one for funsies. but i'll hopefully find a nice compromise!
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aaaa the joy of being mentally unwell about The Characters and The Story. thank you, glad i can be of service! 👍
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this is quite perceptive of you to notice and it's definitely something that occurs in the timeline. due to galacta knight's influence (and kirby's altered reputation) visitors and threats- both international and intergalactic- start to think twice before risking an approach.
alas, because daroach appears in the timeline before galacta knight's switch-in occurs, he would already be in contact and friendship with kirby. that unfortunately means he'd meet the same fate as the rest of kirby's existing allies.
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@i-only-created-this-to-read a little similar to the above ask, yes, the intergalactic picture of popstar is definitely changed by the presence of a violent, otherworldly warrior and a ruthless hero. i also answered your questions about necrodeus previously and am not sure what else to say about him.
i have confirmed before that dedede is not dead, and more about his scenario and overall role in the plot will be revealed in comics. but i will say that he's a smart guy, despite his silliness, and a loving king. he absolutely came to the same conclusion about the frequency of his own possessions as well, through no small amount of heartbreak.
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i definitely headcanon the Lor as sentient; in the light novels, bandee also speaks to her fairly directly. i actually headcanon all the Ancient artifacts as having an amount of sentience (this seem in line with what we've seen in canon, so i don't think it's a reach) and the lor herself seems especially benevolent to me.
our headcanons for the novas are different to yours, though that plays more of a role in the clockwork heart au. i quite enjoy your theories about how the ending might go and you've definitely picked up some details!! i won't confirm or deny anything, but i will say the lor is present in the AU, and that magolor has enough knowledge of artifacts to know that a wish on a wishing star could be a viable solution.
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it took a while for folks to start asking me about magolor actually, which i found kind of amusing because he's the deuteragonist (second protagonist, after bandee) of the au!
i do definitely think that canonically magolor lives on the lor starcutter; though he does say he wants to buy a holiday home on popstar! however in awtdy, unlike the dream land four three, magolor's entire timeline is trashed from the get-go by galacta knight's arrival
some of these answers will take me longer to get to as i'll provide them in comics (it should be a fun reveal at least), but i will say: he hates popstar. he hates it there. he'd give just about anything to be anywhere else.
until he meets bandee, of course.
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the rest of popstar fare a little better or a little worse at various points in the au, kind of like in the mainline canon timeline. for the most part, galacta knight isn't that interested in most of popstar. he enjoys living there, it's peaceful and undeniably pleasant, and frankly he'd like to continue doing so!
he can be convinced (by kirby, and the maintenance of the lie) to perform care to some of its citizens when necessary- such as rebuilding after a crisis. but in general he minds his business in dream land, and occasionally off-world or interdimensionally with kirby and bandee on missions.
whispy, who also keeps to his own in the woods and is just a cantankerous old tree, is probably fine. at least up until star allies, when he, you know. gets possessed.
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@pumpkinnkidd oh absolutely.
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@torrentialchaos2 that would be a different story to chrysalis au, i think! one i could write, but haven't. chrysalis au is specifically about bandee, you can't really extract him from it? 😭 but if morpho possessed magolor it would depend on a lot of things: like what is everyone's relationship to him when it happens? i think even when he comes back from his redemption arc, magolor and the gang are friends, but it's not the same as bandee, who is a core member of their unit.
we've already seen what happens when magolor gets possessed and kirby has to Beat His Ass to get him back to normal. and we've seen that when morpho possesses others who are capable fighters, kirby doesn't hold back. so maybe that? magolor is a magical little guy; he's got a better chance of getting spat back out unscathed.
i could however probably write a version of this for magicapple if i wanted, which would be much more emotionally pulverising lmao
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@trainerbob23 thank you!! this one took me a bit to respond to sorry, but i'm grateful for the warm welcome! the AUs are definitely my primary investment and i'm glad that folks are enjoying seeing them develop! some of them are connected to each other (awtdy + it's various endings/alts) but others are separate.
i also do have some backstory/lore for starstruck dee, which i'll hopefully get to soon as well. i would say that she is... very much related to stars and the cosmos, yes.
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@eliastheownerof0axolotls this one was part of a longer ask (that i've answered part of, and still have another part of in my queue... sorry;; ) but i think this part- especially in terms of kirby- has probably been mostly answered by now! both kirby and dedede have significant roles!
i view dedede as having a mentor-like dynamic with bandee as well as with kirby, and they all care about each other very much! but (especially because they are all adults in my hc) he also absolutely trusts them to handle themselves.
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referring to this post and the (cw angst) art at the end. i will hopefully answer some other asks about the clockwork heart au which will satisfy more of its overall premise and timeline and all, but in regards to the peculiar image...
why that picture is completely normal!! bandee is super fine and normal in it and everything is great and good and fine and fine and fine and fine!!! hhahaha!!!
(something very bad is happening, lmao. entirely doomed by the narrative.)
speaking of bandee being doomed by the narrative:
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some tags here as well, but i just love the frequency of these...
bandee gets possessed one time and everybody loses it... quick!! when will he get unpossessed!!! save that little guy!!! he's sad so we're sad!! (relatable. everyone is so valid.)
the tags on the main posts about morpho dee are just full of people screaming and crying and being like "NOOO I HATE THIS SM I'M IN PAIN /pos" and it's so good hahahaha
sorry to the folks who hate to see him going through the blender, he's being spun in the microwave at like 90mph on my blog. but don't worry, chrysalis au does have a predictably good ending; though obviously bandee has some capital S Stuff to unpack afterwards!!
🌟⭐✨
aaand i think that's all for now! hopefully if you've been hanging out for an ask for a while you're answer is here, and if not (and possibly even if it is), it's most likely taking me so long because i want to do an answer with art.
i'll try not to let these build up again like this, thank you for your patience!
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edhellfire · 5 months
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Headcanon dump:
I have new followers so I figured I'd do a headcanon dump. Just some random facts about Eddie as I write him.
He's gonna be a tattoo artist when he grows up. He loves to draw and doodle (especially in class) so it feels like a natural progression.
I also will write him a rockstar verse where Corroded Coffin makes it.
In some verses, upon request, he is a single dad. His daughter's name is Halen. Halen Munson. His reasoning? When someone talks about them it's "Eddie and Valen" and he finds that amusing.
He will get more tattoos. I love the idea of him having a spider web tattoo on his neck.
In the rockstar verse, he def has his peepe pierced. In other verses, we'll see.
He's straight. Mostly. I've always wanted to experiment writing him liking boys but it's never happened. He's apparently very straight. Or, we haven't come across the right muse/chemistry to make him sway.
He is super respectful of women and tries his very hardest to not be scary when approaching women. A bit of mommy issues here but not in a bad way. Sidenote: don't ever speak ill of his mama.
He has a thing for cheerleaders. He can't explain it and neither can I.
He is not a virgin. Eddie, the freak, has had a surprisingly amount of action. He's got the bad boy thing going for him. However, he is every girl's "dirty little secret" because who wants the world to know they fooled around with the freak from the trailer park? He respects it and isn't one to kiss and tell anyway.
Guitar is his instrument of choice but Eddie has an ear for music and can pick up an instrument very quickly. He thinks the drums are very fun.
Eddie sings! But he's shy about it. Metal is fine because there's a lot of shouting involved but when he plays the acoustic and sings he wants to die of embarrassment. He has a good voice though. He's just a dumbass.
He's not dumb. I don't want to diagnose him (and I don't think that was common in the 1980s) but he definitely has something. Eddie just can't focus on things that don't interest him. He can be very good as physics, for example, because velocity and speed and he can see it in his head but give him algebra or calculus and he is extra fucked. His favorite subject in school is History. It's storytelling and he's a fan. His favorite time periods are Medieval and Renaiassance and shit like that.
Eddie was the kind of kid growing up that loved dinosaurs. Makes sense because dragons are like a natural progresion.
He can cook. Not saying he's a chef by any means but he has a handful of recipes down to an art. He taught himself as a kid when he got tired of eating canned soup and box mac and cheese when Uncle Wayne was working. He can't bake for shit though (and he would love to learn to bake cinnamon rolls and special brownies).
He doesn't usually do hard drugs anymore. He has to be in a dark dark place to go down that road. He had bad experiences. He also won't sell hard drugs to someone that is inexperienced.
He started smokig cigarettes at a scarily young age. I'm thinking around 12 when he started to steal them from his uncle Wayne. He used to smoke whatever but now he prefers menthols.
He feeds the strays that stroll into the trailer park. Cats, dogs, but his favorites are the raccoons that basically live in the dumpster.
He doesn't have any pets. Not because he doesn't want one but because he's scared he won't be a good pet-dad.
Speaking of dads, he has daddy issues. Daddy trauma really. The idea of being a dad terrifies him because he's scared he will turn out like his.
Eddie doesn't usually start fights. He will stand up for people but he will never start shit with someone else. That said, you say anything about his uncle and you're getting punched - even if you're bigger than him, even if he's outnumbered. He might not be the best son/nephew but he worships that man and is so damn grateful for him. He won't stand for Uncle Wayne slander.
Given the way he looks and his interests you would think his type is a rocker chick or a goth girl. You're wrong. Eddie loves femine girls or casual girls. A girl in a dress or a girl in a messy bun and a big tshirt. That sorta thing.
Eddie has always loved to read, ever since he was a kid. Because of this he's full of useless information.
He loved cryptids. He doesn't fuck with fairies though - they scare him.
He has a stuffed dragon that's missing an eye and lives under his bed. He got it from his mom when he was little and he's kept it since. It lives under his bed because Eddie logic says it's dark like a cave. It's named Draco after the constellation because when Eddie was a baby and couldn't sleep his mom would take him outside and they'd stargaze. One of the few memories he has of his mom.
Eddie logic is something that will come in threads. It's the way Eddie thinks. His brain just doesn't process things like a normal person but it makes sense to him and it's the hill he'll die on.
He's not a sports guy. Not because it doesn't fit the persona but because he's always sucked at them. Uncle Wayne would try to play catch with him as a kid and he would either miss or duck. He can run though and he likes to pretend he knows parkour. Doofus.
His favorite color is gray. Eddie logic says black is too basic. Again, doofus.
He doesn't have a favorite food but he's a sucker for anything homecooked. Uncle Wayne worked a lot growing up so anything that feels homecooked feels special to him.
Big cuddler. If you sleep with him, and it's more than just sex, expect aftercare.
He's not opposed to doing "girly" things. If you're a girl and his friend, besties level, he will totally be down for sleepovers that include face masks and manicures and all that. No fragile masculinity here. Just don't tell anyone.
Should be obvious but he loves horror movies. He's not big on gore though. He'll watch them but he's more into spooky shit like monsters, ghosts, demon possession and stuff like that. He does enjoy Children of the Corn, he finds creepy children amusing and terrifying.
He can fix pretty much anything. Both his dad and Uncle Wayne are handy with tools and Eddie learned from watching. He fixes his own van and basically built it from the ground up.
That's all I got right now. Feel free to ask questions.
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silverynight · 2 years
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The bodyguards
Tanjirou starts feeling bad as soon as he meets one of the Pillars his family talks so much about. He knows he's here only because Tanjirou's family is important and wealthy and they're friends with Ubuyashiki.
The swordsman is really tall, in fact, Tanjirou has never seen someone that huge before. He smells like a strong person and Tanjirou knows he'll be wasting his time with him.
Just because Tanjirou wanted to see the world. He bites his bottom lip and starts considering staying inside the house so he doesn't bother anyone; it's not anyone's fault he was born with blood that all demons find enticing.
"I..."
"You must be Kamado Tanjirou, right?" The hashira doesn't look at him directly though, only down. And then Tanjirou realizes why when he notices that his eyes are completely white. "I'm Himejima Gyomei. I'll be taking care of you this week. Can I touch your face to have an idea how you look like?"
"Of course!" Tanjirou mumbles immediately, getting a little bit startled when Himejima kneels in front of him and cradles his face in his huge hands.
The Pillar is very gentle though; the tips of his fingers touch Tanjirou's skin like it's a delicate thing. He makes him blush at some point.
"You're really beautiful," Himejima comments before letting go of Tanjirou.
"I don't think–" Tanjirou stops himself; there's no point in arguing about that, instead he focuses on something more important: "You don't have to do this... I've been thinking about it and I can stay at home..."
"Everyone deserves to be free," Himejima says instead, before taking the boy in his arms. "Where do you want to go first?"
***
After a week they find themselves in the butterfly estate, Tanjirou feels bad because that means he won't be with Himejima again (he's a good friend) but he knows he has more important things to do.
"Stay here for a while," the stone hashira mumbles before pressing his lips against Tanjirou's temple. "I'll go see Oyakata-sama in the hashira headquarters and I'll be back soon."
"But..." Tanjirou is confused. Why is Himejima not saying goodbye?
He should ask him later.
***
Shinobu watches Gyomei walk inside the headquarters. He kneels like the others in front of Ubuyashiki before informing him about his week next to the Kamado boy. He doesn't say much about him though, which is a shame because all of them are curious... Instead Gyomei says that he's managed to get rid of a couple demons and even a lower moon with Tanjirou's help.
That last thing picks up everyone's interest. But the stone hashira doesn't say anything else. Except probably the most shocking thing Shinobu's ever heard:
"I'd like to request to be with Tanjirou permanently," he says then.
Shinobu notices that everyone around looks at Gyomei with surprise; it's true that none of them were pleased to hear they were going to babysit (although they have been informed the Kamado boy is actually eighteen years old) and Gyomei taking the job of permanent bodyguard would solve everyone else's problems, however... There's something else going on.
Even Sanemi is eyeing the stone hashira with curiosity.
"Interesting." Ubuyashiki observes and Shinobu swears that for a moment he looks amused. "Have you talked to Tanjirou about this?"
As if things weren't weird enough already, Gyomei immediately blushes at that.
"Not yet, Oyakata-sama."
"Well... Let's bring him here then," Ubuyashiki says before telling one of the kakushi to bring Tanjirou to the hashira headquarters.
***
"Oh... Hi! It's a pleasure to finally meet you all!" The most beautiful boy Shinobu has ever seen mumbles, before kneeling in front of Ubuyashiki as well.
"Tanjirou... Do you know Gyomei has requested to become your bodyguard permanently?"
The boy blushes, drawing everyone's attention again; Shinobu notices she's not the only one staring at Tanjirou intensely. Mitsuri's cheeks are slightly pink now and she's sighing dreamily every time the boy speaks.
"You don't have to, Himejima-san! Although I really appreciate it, you've been so kind to me... However, I don't want you to waste your precious time on me," Tanjirou says. "In fact, I don't want any of you to do that... I think I'm ready to go home and–"
"No!" All the hashira cut him off at the same time, surprising themselves and everyone around.
Ubuyashiki chuckles.
"Gyomei mentioned that being with you has allowed him to kill a lot of demons lately," Muichiro says then, trying not to look desperate. "So you'll be helping us, actually..."
"Oh!" Tanjirou's eyes glimmer beautifully at that; it seems like the boy loves helping others. "Then I'll do it gladly! So if Himejima-san wants–"
"Please! Give me a chance, my boy! I want to be your bodyguard next!"
As soon as Kyojuro says it, everyone starts fighting over the job position until Ubuyashiki presses a finger against his lips and shuts everyone up completely.
"Each of you will get to spend a week with Tanjirou," Ubuyashiki announces, like he knows what's actually going on. "Are you alright with that, Tanjirou?"
"Yes, of course!" The boy smiles, almost blinding everyone in the process. "I hope we get to become friends!"
Tanjirou is completely wrong about that, Shinobu thinks because everyone around her definitely wants to be more than friends with the beautiful boy, including herself.
***
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kunekojo · 1 year
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Hello there, I'd like to request a poly scenario for Jushiro and Shunsui. I have brainstorms about teaming up with Shunsui to softy praise Jushiro. Overwhelm him with affection.
-@dragon-anon 🐉
Aaaaaaa if it's one thing I love so much, it's overly praise and affection. Jushiro’s precious when it comes to these and I can't put into words how excited I am for this idea. Please do keep these lil brainstorms coming!!! I sincerely hope you enjoy it 🥹 this is my very first time writing anything for Junshiro and I honestly hope I did him well. Just the way he deserves to.
Love bomb
Pairing: Jushiro Ukitake x Kyoraku Shunsui x GN!Reader
Tags: praise, lots of praise to Jushiro from you both, and don't forget the immense amount of affection!!!
WC: 1,1k
•••
Noticing the quietness of you two, Jushiro promptly halts his words, shifting his body to see what’s wrong.
He’s never had you both silent at the same time before, so it’s a little worrying. Every time he finds himself talking for a little longer than he anticipated, either you or Shunsui accompany him in the discussion while the other observes comfortably, making tiny comments occasionally. Maybe it’s something he said that caused this result so it’s for the best to check up as soon as possible, and learn the meaning behind this odd behavior both you and Shunsui are showing.
Upon the turn, his eyes dart to the spot where you two are supposed to be, in each other's arms. Truthfully, the option of you two lovingly gazing at each other is a possibility and one he'd much rather see than his initial guess. Yet surprisingly, it's neither of them.
His brows draw together with a hint of uncertainty, finding himself being yearningly peered at by two sets of heavy-lidded eyes. You two are simply standing there, maintaining eye contact with him while wearing laid-back eyes and beaming smiles. It’s like you’re enjoying his company just by staring at him, even if he hasn’t actually done something noteworthy.
Despite this, he still feels the need to clear the air and ensure nothing bad is happening. He can’t dig the thought of one of you feeling unwell, distressed.
“Is there something wrong?” his body leans towards you and Shunsui, a look of puzzlement crossing his face.
“No, why do you think that?” you promptly reply, a little taken aback by what he said.
Shunsui remains silent but nods in agreement with you, curious himself regarding Jushiro’s concern.
“You’re both silent, which is a little unusual. “ he pauses, looking intently at you and then at Shunsui. “Is it about something I said?” there has to be an explanation?
“Not at all, dear. Why would you think that?” Shunsui lifts himself in his arms, observing Jushiro’s expression with a wide smile blooming on his face.
You two have just been paying attention to him. Paying attention to his motions, paying attention to the joyous excitement covering his voice as he went on to elaborate on various ideas preoccupying his mind.
Both you and Shunsui like to call these moments “Junshiro loving hours”. A time in which you both comfortably enjoy his presence together, occasionally giving content looks to each other. Junshiro rarely notices you with how captured he is by his own discussion, but at last, he seems to have figured out your little activity.
“You’re both just silently staring at me.” He states plainly, still clueless.
“Not in a negative way.” the brunette hums, a little amused with the lack of observation from Junshiro’s side. He turns his head to look at you as you give him a wide grin that shows how equally thrilled you are.
It’s a little precious that he can’t tell that all you’re doing is adoring him.
“Then in what way?” His genuine curiosity makes you wonder how he can’t figure out what you’re doing. Perhaps it’s because of the looks on your faces, they probably don’t look as soft as you both think.
Both of you allow for a brief moment of silence, but you can’t bear to leave him in the dark with the way he’s glancing at you. You slowly raise your body and walk to him, placing a loving hand against the skin of his jawline. The little gesture gets a gasp out of him, making him melt into your touch. Shunsui on the other hand waits in the same position, chuckling as he eyes you both.
“We’re just admiring you, you silly goose.” you enlighten him, drawing soft circles with the pad of your index. “Haven’t you heard of lovingly gazing at your significant other?” The hint of teasing in your voice sends shivers down his body.
“Oh, ahh, I didn’t notice.” He replies shortly, reaching to scratch his neck.
“Why else would we give you big idiot smiles, eeeh?” Shunsui purrs. “You handsome thing.”
He is quick to follow after you, pushing himself to get up on his legs and approach Junshiro alongside you. One of his hands wraps around your waist while the other binds to Junshiro’s, getting a faint reaction of pleased surprise out of him. He pulls you both against his chest, holding you close to feel yourbits of warmth.
Being faced with these circumstances, Junshiro shakes his head wryly, only now grasping the situation he’s in. Your stares gain a new meaning now that he thinks about it. He didn’t even do much, just ramble about his things like usual, but he welcomes your kind thoughts with open arms. Though, he can’t help but wonder, what made you suddenly feel like this?
He means to question you but you absorb his curiosity just by looking into his eyes, cutting him off right when he opens his mouth by placing a finger on his lips.
“I mean, how can we not look at you when you’re this precious?” You further trace it to his cheeks, rubbing him firmly while you place soft kisses after each touch. “You’re so adorable when you talk about your favorite things..”
“Don’t forget the tiny hand motions he does, Y/N,” Shunsui exclaims, cherishing the fresh image inside his he kisses Junshiro’s other cheek, then locks his gaze on him so he can enjoy the glimmer of astonishment in his eyes. “You ought to love it when he moves his hands while he talks like that.” He twists his head to look at you, eyes widening as you both fuel each other to ponder on all the things you love about your beloved.
“Oh god, absolutely. But did you notice when he fiddled with his fingers, hmmm?” You playfully test him.
Shunsui hums in amusement. “I can’t believe you think I’d miss tiny details. Of course, I did! There's no way I would break the rules.” he clamors, pouting at you while he tugs Junshiro closer.
On the other hand, Junshiro stares at you both, dazzled by the abundance of soft praise. He indulges himself in your affection so much that he holds hushed, smiling extensively as a smooth tint of rosy pink flushes his cheeks.
Maybe it’s the weight of your words that makes him so undeniably loved, but it’s what he deserves. He has to know he’s treasured by you and Shunsui, even if it means it’ll overwhelm him a little. In the same way, you're both deserving of equal treatment. He can't just stay there and not send waves of appreciation and love to you too.
“I love you two so much.” he mouths softly, snatching both your attentions with kisses returned to your cheeks as he holds you both dearly.
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andro-dino · 4 months
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From the last post, I don't think I hear enough about Kosuke so if you would like to, I'd love to hear more about the lil' slightly deranged fella (at least, I heard he was a little deranged but I don't remember asjdjasbdja)
God kosuke,,,, he’s definitely one of those kinds of things where I have SO many thoughts about it and it is a really complicated character but any time I actually try to say anything about him or draw any of that interesting stuff, it all just comes out as incomprehensible mush bc I don’t really know how to explain it. They’re such a freak who kinda took on that role on his own and now I have lost all control of the wheel and am kinda just along for the ride now. If there is one thing they’ve got going for them at least, it’s that they are messyyyyyyy. Big hater like all the time. Even when he does like someone, he’s very cryptic and weird about it. Contrary to kosuke belief, fist fighting is NOT a love language, though he refuses to accept that.
Recently when I was thinking abt it, I think it’s interesting to kinda compare his dynamics with gingka and Kyoya bc those two specifically represent like, the two furthest extremes of kosuke’s kosukeness. They hate gingka bc they’re very against the whole idea of bonds and friendships and all that. I guess it’s interesting bc it’s not necessarily against the idea of bladers spirit in general, but when someone like gingka goes on and on about how important it is to build friendships with other bladers, Kosuke hates that bc of how much of a cynical person he is. In his mind, he is thriving on his own and it’s arrogant of gingka to assume that they would need to be friends with someone like him to be a “true blader” or whatever. Kosuke is a bit of a hypocrite though, and he doesn’t really fully realize that bc they’re kinda in denial about how really lonely they are, but it’s sort of seen in his attachment to kyoya. He gravitates towards Kyoya specifically because he appreciates Kyoya’s self-satisfactory nature. Kyoya very much does everything for himself and doesn’t generally care how that affects other people, and that’s something kosuke enjoys and finds a kinship in. In general, they find Kyoya very amusing and because Kyoya is such a hothead willing to give his best fight at any moment, Kosuke especially likes him since they themself are such an aggressive person and find the most satisfaction in fighting people.
Their relationship is so interesting because of how similar yet different they are. In a sense, Kosuke is kind of what Kyoya thinks he is, and that’s ultimately what causes their eventual conflict/falling out. What I mean by that basically is that while Kyoya insists he is independent and doesn’t need anyone else, ultimately, his bonds with others are very significant to him and he has a great amount of care for the people in his life even if he himself is unwilling to admit that and only shows it in really roundabout ways. Meanwhile, Kosuke is genuinely someone who hates getting attached to people and is generally very avoidant in any attachment that he does end up feeling. They keep a firm and unflinching wall between themself and others, kind of as a defense mechanism (though they DEFINITELY won’t admit that). That’s kind of shown best also by his dynamic with Tsubasa, where it, at one point, truly feels connected to Tsubasa, and at that point, takes the leap to really start showing some of their true colors around him, the sort of parts of its personality that are a bit more unnerving, yk. But when Tsubasa leans away from this and is, yk, understandably unnerved, Kosuke’s defenses IMMEDIATELY go back up and he distances himself from Tsubasa again. I’ve described their dynamic before as “Tsubasa being the only person who’s ever tempted Kosuke into wanting to be even slightly more normal” and that’s kinda the whole gist of it. Kosuke will never admit it, but they crave a bond with someone who will truly understand and accept them for who they are, freakishness and all, but they have never really found that, and have kinda given up all hope of ever really getting that in the first place, which informs their very cynical outlook on life. He only ever really sees the worst in people, and really, himself as well, and doesn’t expect anything more. Based around his own ways of experiencing the world, he believes that people are at their most authentic at their worst, which is why they constantly try to provoke other people.
But yeah anyways back to how them and Kyoya’s messiness, the specific way their outlook differs is what ultimately drives the wedge between them. Their rivalry is something they mutually enjoy a lot, but Kosuke expects to keep it at arms length, even when they do sort of feel some kind of feelings for Kyoya. Kyoya meanwhile, despite his usual avoidance, when he does start feeling more of a connection to Kosuke, starts showing signs of wanting to get closer to them, and that freaks Kosuke out. Basically Kosuke is so insane that somehow, Kyoya is the one who wants to have a somewhat normal actual relationship with it, which is really wild considering it is Kyoya. Ultimately, Kosuke knows this, knowing also that they can’t give Kyoya that, again, immediately in defense mode. They’re the self destructive kind of hypocrite, because despite the fact that Kyoya is someone who could begin to really understand him, that thought is immediately so terrifying to him that he can’t bear to really let that happen, but Kyoya, easy to frustration and anger, is easy to also stop wasting his time entertaining Kosuke. Kosuke’s ultimate biggest flaws are the fact that he is very self-centered while also being self-destructive and its stagnation and unwillingness to change are what ultimately create a hell of his own making. It’s resigned itself to its cynical worldview and has figured out how to keep himself entertained in that worldview, and while he consequently presents himself as collected and satisfied, truly, he is a deeply unhappy, unfulfilled person, though it doesnt take a genius to see that.
A bit of a sad thought I’ve kinda had about him: I’ve thought about making a shogun steel design for it but it’s hard because I can’t really imagine a future for it. The only things that i really know for sure is that it’d probably quit mercenary work by then, he wouldn’t have anyone really, and it’d probably smile a lot less because its kinda given up on trying to present itself as more put together than it really is.
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