Adrian Pucey headcanon PLS K THANKS
(i’m literally using an au generator to write these so like……..spins wheel……………………………MODERN ROYALTY AU, LET’S DO THIS):
- adrian knows, objectively–logically, even–that things could be worse.
- he’s going to be a duke. his dad has to die for that to happen, obviously, so, you know, that sucks, but–still. a duke. he’s going to be a duke.
- which is way more impressive than the fucking barony marcus flint’s inheriting.
- like, you don’t grow up listening to stories about kings and queens and princesses and knights and, like, noble steeds, or whatever, and think to yourself, “gosh, can’t wait to be baron flint.”
- adrian has it pretty good, is all he’s saying.
- what he’s not saying, though.
- if he was going to not say something.
- is that the whole duke situation is kind of a fucking major drag.
- he spends, like, fifty percent of his time with a tailor, for example. who, granted, is an alright dude. old as fuck, yeah, but generally pretty chill. his granddaughters bake him ginger snaps, like, all the time. adrian partakes. he’s learned a shitload about collar points and breast pockets and fucking lapels. he’s fine. the tailor’s fine.
- it’s the other fifty percent of adrian’s time that’s the problem.
- because he just really does not care about parliament, or security details, or, like, going to school–he has his guitar, and his bros, and his surfboard, and he bought a cast-iron pan to make fajitas in, so, honestly, he’d be pretty set if his dad would, like, quit the massive fucking guilt trip about the pucey legacy.
- “legacy” is, no joke, the most obnoxious word in the world.
- adrian’s totally going to banish it when he’s finally duke.