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stevebabey · 1 year

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part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

#at this point call this the 'can i' series #sweet boys asking each other for things they most certainly would be given <3 #but don't think they will <3 #tried to flip it and make it so even tho eddie is used to touch. the romantic touch? he's got none! that's where he's touch-starved #ALSO EVERYONE'S TAGS WERE SO NICE ON THE LAST ONE #trust i am. not feelin so bad nowadays (me saying this like 4 days later lmao)#but <3 thank u all #gay ppl in my phone.... you know what to do #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #touch-starved steve harrington #not rlly anymore hehe #does anyone notice that it ends with yet another 'can i?" question? HEHE #yet again stib gets kisses where ruby doesn't but alas <3 dis is way fluffier this time #nearly went the angst route! and went hmmmm naur #ok ok i'll be quiet now

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allforthe-gay · 9 months

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it is completely one hundred percent baffling to me that any of the foxes would come away from witnessing neil and andrew's reunion in baltimore with the opinion that their relationship was just hate fucking . like my brother in christ are you blind

#andrew was FERAL .#he fucking choked KEVIN like COME ON #and he was like RACING into the room to see neil and #he was all like *tugs neil's hoodie to get his attention* *threatens anyone who tried to come close to them (abby)*#he was all like 'i dont trust them to give you back.' come on man .#and neil was looking at andrew . most definitely Like That. when he was talking to abby #neil was all battered and bruised from barely dodging a fucking death sentence and he sees andrews partly red eye and thats #the first thing he talks about #*lightly taps a thumb against the bruise at andrews eye* i didnt know theyd staged a riot #they were all like Looking at each other and ..... idk i am not explaining this well enough but .#you don't need me to. you all read it #it was So Fucking Obvious my god #im crying bc even neil thought nicky wasnt far from the truth at that point #like he could not have been more incorrect istg .#aftg #andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #all for the game #mi ne

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canisalbus · 3 months

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sorry im emotonal and going off of the other asks sent about machete and just i need to stress how beautiful it is to me that machete sees himself so undeserving of love and affection and feeling as if vasco's too good for him but despite all that he is so incredibly devoted to vasco and loving towards him (in his own way) but is so incredibly clear to anyone with eyes that just how in love he is with vasco. like it's not done out of a "oh god please never realize that you're too good for me here here let me overdo it with the affection" its done with the "i love you, and will always love you, no matter what happens to us or separates us, and i will give it to you as long as i am able, and if you ever leave, i won't be okay, but will still love you, and want you happy". like he doesn't use his own feelings of being undeserving taint his love or the way he loves for vasco, and it's so, so beautiful

#;M;#oauhh #that's so sweet I'm in shambles and so glad to hear all of that #sometimes I worry about whether I'm communicating their chemistry correctly #it would be so easy for this sort of relationship to gain suffocating and possessive and overall just abusive tones #and even though you could argue it would be a source for juicy drama I just don't want that #Machete could selfishly exploit Vasco's care and altruism without giving anything in return #or worse let his paranoia and jealousy get the better of him and end up destroying them both because if he can't have Vasco no one can #and Vasco could leverage his influence over Machete to manipulate and use him because out of them two he's the more mentally stable one #and it would be easy to take advantage of Machete's vulnerability obedience and his trust that Vasco would never harm him #but I don't know maybe it's a bit tropey and idealistic but I really just want these dogs to be genuinely good for each other #they have so many things working against them already I don't wish to see them backstab each other as well #they have a bit of a 'us against the world' thing going on which I really like #they're not perfect there's issues they're trying to work on but the will to get through it together is there #and I want to make it seem like they wouldn't hesitate to prioritize the other one's happiness and wellbeing at their own expense #if it came to that #anwered #anonymous

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sunnykeysmash · 10 months

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Man of words

#s16 spoilers #iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #always sunny #macdennis #analysis #parallels #I didn't exactly know how to name this thread but i had some scattered thoughts on it #dennis is the one mac depends on to define things. he's the man of words. but this situation is very limiting #firstly because mac can't read subtext. and dennis will rarely be open in his words. but he also doesn't know everything.#cant define everything. and by forcing the situation to have dennis speak for both. what actually happens is mac gets silenced #and when mac cant speak. no one besides dennis can ever possibly understand him. and that is very isolating. because den wont be open. cant #but they trust each other. theyre following each other's lead. and they're missing the right words #den defines his own self worth in the relationship by being able to have the right words. mac is the man of action! after all #but if mac learns to speak for himself. if mac doesn't depend on den (chokes). if mac is noticed for his appearance as den becomes insecure #(''what if my shirt falls off?'') what does den have left for mac? but mac will fall for him no matter what.#''make up or not you are the golden god! it's all about what's in here💗''#maybe words arent necessary anymore. dont ask just do. and mac's the man of action... OR IS HE.#mac doesn't really act now does he. they got it backwards. don't they? mac got a lot better with his words in time...#idk lots to think about let me know what u think lolll #threads

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avenxizz · 3 months

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I hope they fight to the death at some point

#pariging #hunter x hunter #hxh #pariston hill #ging freecss #i wasnt going to post this but the content in the tag conforted me. we're all insane here #can you tell I don't know how to draw couches...#also since they “trust each other as enemies” (or at least pariston does) i find it funny that they would do shit like this #while not standing each other one bit

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bumblingbabooshka · 5 months

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On s'est déjà tout dit Et j'ai déjà tout vu Je l'ai déjà apprise, la leçon la plus dure J'suis tombé droit dans l'mur, une fois, deux fois

[We've already said everything and I've already seen it all. I've already learned it, the hardest lesson. I fell straight into the wall, once, twice.]

#bea art tag #T'Pring #T'Pring/Spock #Spock #SNW #star trek snw #snw #T'Pring fanart #s he deserves more.....she deserves MORE!!!!!#The nerve of this man to say 'you know me well' WHILE cheating #This show's Spock's trust issues and reluctance to fully commit himself to T'Pring don't read at all as him being torn between two differen #worlds or reluctant to show T'Pring the 'real' him because we never really see T'Pring being .... idk. Disdainful of his humanity?#The most I can remember is her saying 'It hardly seems like a Vulcan lives here.' when she's poking at his interior decorating #T'Pring is out here reading books doing research and telling him she appreciates his Humanity and wants to have dinner with him and spend #time together and Spock's over here like 'I can't bring myself to trust T'Pring. Christine! Angel!' like DUDE....you're ENGAGED #Of your own volition you're engaged!!#The second your fiancee says 'let's take a break from seeing each other to think about our relationship' you start having sex with another #woman?? Immediately??? I don't like this writing ... it just makes Spock seem like a sleaze who's making excuses to be unfaithful #BUT you know what?? That'd be fine if they didn't frame Christine/Spock as like...ok? I don't get that. M'Benga is like wink wink #ohhh you like each other huh~?? HUH indeed. HUH?? Dude - he has a fiancee???#Even putting morality aside wouldn't it just be more fun to have them be in a secret forbidden relationship or whatever?#Spock: -Singing about how he and Christine broke up or whatever- / Uhura: ....[doesn't he have a girlfriend?????]#<- I wish there was more continuity with this. Like - why is everyone on the ship fine with Spock & Christine being together #when they KNOW he has a fiancee? Is no one going to mention it?#Like there's definitely a compelling story here but the writers are never gonna find it...everyone's too busy being in a marvel movie #Spock being like oh I love Christine we really have something WHILE reassuring T'Pring at every turn that he loves her and wants to make #it work between them ooohhhh!!!! -steam comes out my ears- flames flames on...on the side of my face...#Him being upset and feeling betrayed by Christine leaving for a work opportunity....sit DOWN sir. Sit DOWN!!!#If they make T'Pring cheat on him with Stonn or whatever so they can have a contrived #'well we're both at fault who's really to blame for this goodbye forever now have a great life' ending I'm gonna riot

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orchideae · 4 months

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A little unpopular opinion on something I've seen happen more commonly throughout November/December and wanted to address quickly for my own blog: Please never hesitate to reblog anything from me. You see me reblogging a sentence starter list that you like? Go for it and reblog it from me directly without any pressure on you whatsoever to send anything into me before doing so. You like a GIF-set or musing that I reblogged? Nab it from me, it'll brighten my day to see that we share an interest in something. I like to see interaction between me and anyone who follows me. I like to see that little activity notification light up.

Honestly, it simply reminds me that we're all part of a community, and more specifically, a fandom that consists of characters and nations that we all came to love and then share that amongst ourselves. And honestly, seeing a reblog happen shortly after me but it's from the source, creates (in my opinion) an odd sense of chosen disconnect between people that can feel awkward, it's as if we're walking on eggshells as to not rub each other the wrong way. But what's wrong about going 'Hey, I see what you reblogged, I like it too!', it even gives you potential common ground to start a conversation. We're a community, and I don't know about you, but I like seeing people interact with each other beyond merely threads and notes. It's the little things that matter, after all.

#[ psa. ] seeing isn't always believing. and if you can't trust your eyes; you certainly can't trust rumors.#[ i feel like this whole 'reblog karma' rule has scared people so much into stopping with behavior that... ]#[ i think was healthy. interaction; no matter how small; makes it so much easier and comfortable for people to... ]#[ interact because you almost become 'familiar faces' through these tiny little asks. ]#[ the amount of times i've entered dms kindly/respectfully after someone's reblogged something from me-- ]#[ and the person and i proceeded to just gush about the reblogged fanart in question. or something similar. ]#[ which then makes any further ooc interaction so much easier and nicer-- the initial anxiety people may face is lessened. ]#[ because you've already found common ground. ]#[ like i don't mean to force anyone to reblog from me-- but it's like it's so obvious so often when people... ]#[ see something from you but then reblog it from the source. i dunno if it's just me but it feels odd. ]#[ it feels as if someone thinks reblogging from me would step on my toes or rub me the wrong way and i don't see?? ]#[ why that's a thing? it's so silly. reblog from me; feel welcome to do so. we all love this fandom. we all love our characters. ]#[ and each others' characters. it's why we interact; right? ]#[ any way. hi-- yes. i just mean never feel odd to reblog from me. if anything i encourage it. ]#[ i'll smile and nod at you in my activity; and you'll also pique my interest to be like 'hey! good taste 💙 ]#[ any way; i hope people are having a good weekend! ]

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pariaritzia · 10 months

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Queerness in Indian Media

↳Film: DON (1978, Hindi) dir. CHANDRA BAROT

Don follows two characters: Roma (Zeenat Aman), a woman who is out for revenge against the crime boss Don, who killed her brother and sister-in-law, and Vijay (Amitabh Bachchan), a street performer who looks exactly like Don and is recruited to help take down his gang.

In an era where women characters wore long hair and dresses and were often in the narrative simply to be romanced, Roma learns karate and judo, chops off her hair, dons a suit, and infiltrates Don's gang. While she does trade in these more masculine traits for feminine clothes and longer hair at later points in the movie, it is always with the intent of disguise--and in the climactic scene, she is back in her suit, punching and kicking the bad guys right alongside the men.

In contrast, Vijay is far more feminine than the average male action hero. However, he is never ridiculed by the narrative for these qualities--he is comic relief at times, but the joke is never his femininity. Furthermore, he is guardian to two children while their father, Jasjit (Pran), serves a prison sentence. Vijay is a caring substitute father who will do anything to ensure that the children are happy, healthy, safe, and educated--a delightful characterization given society's disinclination to allow gender non conforming people around children. While disguised as Don, Vijay adopts more masculine mannerisms (something he has to learn how to do since, as he says, 'Don shoots at the drop of a hat, while I don't even know how to play marbles!'), but he often reverts to his old style as well.

Most surprising, however, is the end of the movie, when Roma, Vijay, Jasjit, and the children all walk off into the sunset together--a family that would be considered extremely unusual in today's times, much less the 1970s.

#bollywood #don #queerness in indian media #this movie is just shenanigans from start to finish and I love it #don't think about the logic. shhh. just have fun.#the wikipedia page has some interesting facts about the making of it and the songs #anyway I love roma and vijay. I love when they find out each other's secret and it's all like #ohhh I felt so drawn to you....I felt that you were like myself.....I felt I can trust you.....#gays recognizing each other. if I do say so myself!#the metaphor is there! it's a salim-javed movie too so! I see it! I see the vision!

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romance-rambles · 15 days

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THE QUEENLY TRADITION OF KILLING BEARS AND SAVING PRINCES

In the very same forest where his parents met, Ayn reminisces about them with you. The conversation gets derailed long before you decide to tease him about the Sword of Transcendence—only to get teased in turn.

— pairing: [godheim] ayn alwyn x little painter/you

— word count: 1.3k

— tags: established relationship, referenced pregnancy, takes place after an AU of courtyard reunion/crown's weight where they were together the entire time

— note: i've had this in mind since the scene where you kill a bear. it's the writer's fault for making parallels so easy to draw.

— return to lbc masterlist | series: none

"THIS—" AYN SAYS AS THE sound of the careful footsteps and rustling grass draw closer to his location, underneath the very same tree that witnessed his parents' first meeting. "—is where my parents met. It took a while for me to find it, but I can finally show it to you."

In lieu of a greeting, his queen gazes upon him with a displeased expression. "I could've been an assassin."

Rather poetically, your long, messy hair has been tamed into a well-behaved plait. But you are not his mother, and he is not his father. There should be no tragedies in your future, and Lars will once more sit on the throne only if Ayn's own child refuses it.

"I knew it was you." He watches the ends of your red bow—the same shade as your dress—peak out shyly from behind your head. "Do you not trust my instincts?"

You don't respond. Instead, your gaze travels to the initials carved onto the tree trunk, where the E of his mother's maiden name has been overwritten by the A of his father's, and his own, surname. Crossing the remaining distance, you neatly sidestep his hand and places yours over the crude outline of the heart surrounding them.

"She saved him from an assassin," you murmur, voice distant and guilty.

At once, he knows where it is your thoughts have wandered to. Ayn shifts, reaching out his gloved hand to you—an offer, to do as you please, whether it's to pull yourself down, or pull him up, or to simply hold on.

"This is where Father meant to give her the Sword of Transcendence," he explains, once you take his hand and sit down. His voice has grown softer, and you take it as your cue to rest your head on his shoulder. "But he changed his mind after one of his knights stopped him and made a ceremony of it."

Even though you've heard this story before, you seem as enchanted by it as you did the last time—and all the times before that. You adjust your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and when he looks over at you, he sees nothing but pure affection in your gaze.

Birdsong accompanies his story, as does the gentle rustling of the leaves. Closing his eyes, he remembers the days where his parents would narrate it for him. As a child, before he began to properly notice Father's treatment of Mother, he found it to be nothing less than a perfect fairytale.

Now though, most of the magic has been scrubbed off, leaving behind only a bitter taste on his tongue he associates with the life Mother could've had without him and his father. Ayn only hopes his own child won't feel the same way about him.

"And that was when he asked her to be his bodyguard," he finishes, repeating exactly what his father would say at the end.

"We met in a ballroom," you lament, after your obligatory cooing. The longing in your usual comments that you don't is especially pronounced today. "No carving hearts into meaningful trees for us."

He smiles faintly, angling his head towards you. "The ballroom is much closer to the palace than this tree."

"It doesn't have to be a tree," you murmur. Before he can comfort you, though, you spring back to life, lifting your head off his shoulder with a faux thoughtful look on your face—and he pays the price for it, your shoulder bumping against his, with a fond sigh. "But, you know, I've saved your life before. I've even killed a bear before. Even if we don't have a tree or a flower field—"

Lips stained red, slanted into a mischievous smirk. A slight tilt of your head. Gloved fingers tucking the longer strands of your bangs back behind your ear. You lean in close, until all that's left in his vision from the scenery around them is the golden hue your hair takes under the gleaming sun.

"How come I don't have a fancy heirloom sword to pass down?" you ask, clearly anticipating your turn at teasing him.

"You're right," he acknowledges easily, a bit unwilling to play along. Ayn cups his chin in such a manner that it covers up the small smile playing on his lips, and commits himself to the act. "I should've prepared some sort of gift."

The smirk on your face drops as he taps the handle of the Sword of Transcendence. A panicked gaze lingers on him, on his hand, and it isn't long before your emotions manifest in a more...physical manner.

"Wait, no—" You straighten up, hurriedly putting some distance between them, and perhaps Ayn is a terrible person for it, but he can't help but silently guffaw. "That was a joke. That's your mother's sword! You can't—you can't give that to me."

When it becomes clear that your ramblings have no end, he reaches out and curls his fingers around your wrist. The act silences you immediately, even before his patented snarky comment. You wrap your own hand around his, and your fingers slot into place in the spaces left between.

"Why not? I thought you wanted a 'fancy heirloom sword'." he quotes.

Though you hardly look threatening with the rosy hue of your cheeks clashing against your scowl, he can admire your commitment to the role. "I'll take another one."

"I don't have another one," Ayn responds innocently, taking delight in the way your glare intensifies.

"Make another one then," you fire back immediately, crossing your arms. A pout forms on your lips, before your hand slips out and cradle your still flat belly. "Your father is such a bully. Don't let him fool you, okay?"

He bites back a smile and leans closer, closing the gap between you and him. "I should be saying that about you."

You seem to understand what he's after. With a snort, you make the first move, pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss. But despite that, when you pull back, you're still holding onto your grudge.

You even go so far as to throw his own words back at him.

At that moment, he has a sudden, vivid vision of his own child—your child, separated by gender only through the length of their ambiguously-colored hair and nothing else—stirring up trouble. Usually, in idle moments, when his thoughts wander to the future, Ayn sometimes frets about what they'll take from who. From whether red eyes and deep purple hair is a better combination than the opposite, to whether they'll favor a paintbrush or an instrument, and anything in between.

But their affinity for trouble-making is something he's never budged, and right now, Ayn is certain your features lend themselves best to trouble-making.

Narrowing his eyes fondly at his wife, he says, "We can let the little one decide then."

The expression on your face as you think over his offer would fool anyone into thinking you were deliberating over something serious. You purse your lips, taking the time to exaggerate your exasperation, and declare:

"That would take years. So, I'll let you off, just this once."

"Oh, how can I ever repay you?" His voice is dripping with amusement. Ayn has the smile to match, which only widens as he pretends to have found the answer. "I know—"

"Not a sword."

Ayn bursts into laughter—the kind that leaves him breathless, with an aching stomach and a curse that only prolongs his condition. Soon, you join in as well, and then both of them are stuck in a loop, able to afford only a slight lull of peace before something or the other sets them off.

"A kiss?" he wheezes, once his laughter begins to die down. For real, this time.

"That—"

You don't hesitate to take him up on his offer. But this one is not a merely peck. He has enough time to pull you into his arms and onto his lap. Enough time to think about what it is that you taste like. Fruit, mostly.

When you pull back, both hands still cupping his cheeks, your eyes are glimmering with delight.

"—I'd say, is acceptable."

#fics by aya #for all time #for all time x reader #lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles x reader #lbc ayn #lbc ayn x reader #ayn alwyn #ayn alwyn x reader #little painter #lovebrush ayn #rambles from here on ->#hi i'm feral over the fact that the moral of ayn's route in regards to you seems to be “don't repeat your predecessor's mistakes.”#don't get so blinded by love that you forget that you are partners first and foremost—trust each other implicitly but advocate yourself too #but also maybe don't send your queen away in times of trouble like an idiot??#anyway like i'm not even an ayn stan but all of the boys are just so well-written that i can't help but write for him anyways?#except cael—he scares me because i'm 90% sure i can't do him justice but like i also have barely any cael cards sooo...not all my fault!!#(for reference i started end of march)#fun fact: i almost didn't finish this because of the ending of his route but then i watched crown's weight and went “oh”#so here we are—all because feina and mc both killed a bear and saved a crown prince

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ride-a-dromedary · 6 months

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Solidly thinkin of AU Halsin/Nettie/Rath this evening - doting and soft hearted throuple who are surprisingly shrewd when need be. Plant nerds who turn into animals sometimes in love.

Nettie falling asleep at Halsin's workshop bench during a late winter night of study and him scooping her up to carry her to bed despite her sleepy protests. Rath slipping in a while later and finding Halsin *back* at that work bench, but upon closer inspection he's half tranced, chin in his hand, looking over where Nettie is sleeping; and he definitely can't return that particular favour, but manages to nudge Halsin up and into bed as well and they all crawl in together until the winter chill has subsided.

Halsin leaving wildflowers on their pillows, Rath tucking lunch in their satchels so they don't forget to eat, Nettie singing for them early in the morning with the birds.

Nettie asking if the player character wouldn't consider going after Halsin because the man is brilliant but he gets caught up in his own head and forgets he's just one person - and Rath and her would be very thankful if he were to come home in one piece. Them reuniting with one another and it's that gentle familiarity of three people who have known one another for a very *very* long time fitting back together like they'd never been parted, only to have to say goodbye again so quickly.

Halsin chuckling when asked if he couldn't put Nettie and Rath in charge of the Grove like you think I would give people I love that kind of responsibility absolutely not it's a terrible burden and I would never do that to them. I only wish for them to be safe and happy.

Rath writing letters to Halsin while he's on the road with the player, and Nettie's loopy script crossing some parts out and changing them and then him scribbling it out and changing it back until the letters are worn and messy, like the equivalent of them both trying to talk on the phone at once. Halsin can barely read them but he keeps every one.

Yeah.

#BG3 Musing #autistichalsin fueled the fire of this one #halsin trusted rath with the keys and nettie with the cats i think it'd be sweet if they all kissed each other #and halsin just held the two of them in his arms and they took care of him #like i said in main game canon i don't really see halsin has being interested in romantic entanglements due to like...preoccupation #and depression HOWEVER au druid throuple is very dear to me #and like yeah yeah i know power imbalance and all that with archdruid and apprentice but again this is AU business - they're all adults #what i'm saying is halsin throuples do you understand my vision here

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softquietsteadylove · 8 days

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Hello birdie 🖤✨

I've got something for the Life Interrupted AU.

Thena isn't feeling well lately and is considering to go back into this hellhole where she's getting drugged to unconsciousness. She's packing her stuff when Gil shows up. He's trying to talk it out of her.

(And I definitely didn't had this Idea because I'm stuck in one of those hellholes, lol)

✨🖤Hugs an Love🖤✨

"Going somewhere?"

Thena sighed, setting down one of her shirts and staring down at her bed. "I was thinking about it."

Gil walked further into her room, having just arrived. "Druig texted me. Really surprised me to hear from him, but he said you've been acting weird--wants me to 'talk to some sense into you'."

Thena let out a humourless chuckle. "I'm surprised he decided to entrust you with that task."

"Gotta say, I am too," Gil agreed quietly until he was standing behind her. "I have to agree--you seem a little anxious lately."

She had been nervous, jumpy, and Gil knew it. They hadn't been able to go out on a date in weeks because she felt on the verge of a panic attack at the thought of having to navigate crowds or risk running into someone. "Maybe...maybe I should consider-"

"Don't," he whispered, placing his hand gently over hers. Her bag was already half full. "Don't say you're going back to that place."

Thena squeezed her eyes shut, tears already burning the insides of them. "Where should I go, Gil?"

"Anywhere else," he concluded. He pulled her hand away from packing up as if she were sailing off into the horizon. He moved slowly and gently until he could sit on the chair in the corner of her room and look up at her. "Please, Thena, just talk to me."

When he was seated lower, she had no excuse not to look at him. But she stared down at his hands, holding hers so, so gently. "Druig and Makkari have been looking at places again."

Gil raised his brows. "That...that's good...right?"

It was. It was what she wanted. She wanted their lives to continue on after the ugliness of the last year. She wanted her brother to feel free to settle down and marry the love of his life. And he could do that without worrying about his sister, she was determined.

"He keeps asking me to see them," she admitted quietly, as if Druig had his ear pressed against the door and would be wounded by overhearing her. "He keeps picking rooms that he says can be mine--if I so choose."

"So," Gil prompted, giving her hands a little squeeze, "what's so bad about that?"

Thena shook her head, looking up around the ceiling of her room to keep her tears from falling. "I'm not some child he has to drag around with him. He should be choosing a home to suit him and his wife, not worrying about his burdensome sister."

"Come on," Gil whispered, his eyes drifting downward from the sheer weight of Thena's discouragement. "You know he doesn't think of you like that."

Thena sighed, pulling her hands from Gil's and plopping herself on the corner of her bed. She pressed them to her head, trying to keep them from shaking. "I know he doesn't. That is exactly the problem."

"Okay, so you don't want him worrying about you," Gil shrugged, turning in the chair to face her head on again.

Thena stared down at her knees. She wasn't wearing her work dress and stockings with a tight ponytail. But she couldn't bring herself to wear soft sweatpants anymore, opting for athleisure leggings and a cardigan at even her most comfortable.

"What else?"

She toyed with her fingernails. "I don't want to live here alone."

Gil nodded again, leaning back in the chair.

She hunched over herself more, despite her sore back. "It's not about the cost, it's...I can't be here by myself, thinking all these...things."

"Okay, so we'll find somewhere else for you," Gil leapt at the opportunity to suggest an alternative. He leaned forward again, even scooching toward the edge of the seat. "I'll help you look."

She smiled, although she still wasn't feeling the intent behind the action. "Druig offered the same. Even Makkari--but that's not the point."

Gil seemed to understand what she was getting at. And of course he did, it was Gil. He was sweet, and understanding, and he always seemed to know what she was trying to say, even if she didn't have the words. "You want to find a place for yourself."

She sighed, looking at her hands again. "I don't seem capable of anything these days."

Gil took her hands in his again, rubbing his thumb over her skin. "You know that's not true."

She wasn't as sure as he was. She never was--never had his confidence, or positivity. It was something she both envied and admired about him. She loved it about him. "Maybe-"

"No!"

She blinked, taken aback by his outburst. He was always so soft spoken, especially with her. She had never heard him so much as raise his voice. The only things he did loudly were laughing and sneezing.

"Maybe nothing!" he pressed, standing from the chair. "That place never did you any good. I don't think it does anyone any good! And I will not let you go back to that misery!"

Thena's eyes fluttered, her back straightening. Her heart began to squeeze at the sheer volume of things, but this was Gil--she was safe with him.

"Thena," he finally quieted again, kneeling in front of her. "You never have to go back to that place, okay? I don't care if you have a nervous breakdown--I'll take care of you. I'll take better care of you than they ever would in there. Just--just promise me you won't go back there because you're worried about burdening people."

She blinked, those tears she was trying to hold back finally falling. It was completely dark outside, her small bedside lamp offering minimal lighting. But it caught Gil's features in just such a way that made him seem so beautiful. "I don't want to go back there."

"Good," he nodded, turning her hand so he could press his lips to it.

"But," she gasped, her lip wobbling. She clung to him. "But what if I'm not me, anymore?"

"You're exactly who you need to be," he said without a hint of doubt in his voice. "You're Thena."

So completely unwavering, her Gilgamesh.

"You're my Thena," he repeated, softer this time, kissing the back of her other hand before pulling her up to stand with him. His hands slipped around waist to rest at her back. "That's all you need to be."

She wasn't sure who 'Thena' was, at times. At least, not as she knew herself before all this. Gil kept saying that the past year was a part of her, for better or worse. But she just wanted to leave it behind--to revert to the version of her that had existed before it all.

"Look," he whispered, still holding her so gently. "Maybe that's easy for me to say. I didn't know you before. But the Thena I know is pretty damn amazing."

She let another laugh, still not humoured in the least.

"She is," he chuckled, though, and he did mean it. He leaned closer, touching his forehead to hers. "She's this badass translator, works in a big, fancy office. She's actually pretty funny, if she's in a good mood. Kinda likes messing with me."

"I do not."

"Just a little," he contested, scrunching up his nose faintly. "But I think that side of her is cute. And she's tough--way tougher than she thinks she is. And she's an incredible sister, even when her brother is being a pain in our ass."

"Our?" she interrupted.

"Our," he confirmed, touching the tips of their noses together to silence her. "And I know he's just worried about you. That's why he keeps saying you can stay with them if you want. But I guess he doesn't really know it's stressing you out."

Thena sighed, dragged back into the depths of her problems like plunging into ice cold water. "How do I tell him?"

Gil skipped over that question, still busy holding her, almost swaying as his weight shifted from foot to foot. "So, this Thena--I mean, to me, she's the most incredible woman in the world."

"Gil," she sighed, trying to pull him from his reverent description of her.

But he nudged her head until he could kiss her lips, also gently. As gently as everything else about him. "She's the woman I love, plain and simple."

Oh, did she ever love him. She had gone from being someone who probably didn't really believe in love for herself at all to being head over heels for her sweet, gentle giant.

She sighed as she kissed him again, leaning up on her toes to loop her arms around his neck. Kissing Gil always made her feel more human--more grounded and real. It took away the buzzing in her head and replaced it with with a heavy and pleasant sedative that could spread through her veins.

Gil stayed close, his forehead against hers, lips still faintly puckered. "Better?"

"Hm," she sighed. She didn't need to explain herself--not to him. She ran her fingers gently through the hair at the back of his head. If only she never had to go to work, or take public transport, or go to house viewings where the realtor would look at her oddly. If only she could stay in Gil's arms every second of every day.

"Good," he sufficed to say, tapping his fingers against the back of her sweater. He moved his hand to her hip. "So, about this living situation-"

"Right," she sighed the heaviest she had yet (which was saying something).

"Hey," he nudged her gently, pulling her eyes up to him. "A unit in my building is going on the market for next month. It's the one above mine--sweet old guy is moving out to be closer to his grand kids."

Oh. Living that close to Gil--being neighbours?

"I can always ask him if he'd be open to a lease trade-off," Gil suggested, although he was unable to hide his excitement at the prospect in his smile. "What do you think?"

Being that close to Gil? Being his upstairs neighbour?

His smile wobbled faintly, turning sheepish as he looked away. "It's a little more modest than this place. But it's a one bedroom, and it's not a bad location. And-"

Thena stood on her toes, pressing her lips to his, even with a cliche 'mmwah' sound. He looked dazed after the firmer kiss, which made her smile genuinely for the first time that night. She leaned against him heavier, but he steadied her without a second thought. "I think that sounds perfect."

"Really?" he asked, beaming like a dog about to receive a treat with a wagging tail.

She took his cheeks in her hands, "it sounds wonderful, Gil."

"O-Okay," he laughed, sounding near hysteria. But he pulled her against his chest in his arms, even lifting her off the ground slightly as he spun them. "This'll be amazing, sweetie, I promise!"

He needed no promises. The thought of having him a mere flight of stairs away was already comforting, in a sense. And she had been to his flat plenty of times. He was right, it was in a good location, and it wasn't any further from her office than she was now, all things considered.

Gil set her on her feet once more. "I'll talk to him tonight."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," she advised gently. It wasn't often she was able to offer a calming voice of reason these days; it felt familiar, even soothing. She toyed with some some stray hairs of his. "I may have to apply, like everyone else."

"Peh," Gil waved in dismissal again (making her laugh, again). "The old guy loves me. And that's before I tell him some sob story about wanting my girlfriend to move in so we can be closer."

Thena blushed softly, toying with the hem of her cardigan. Sometimes she had to remind herself that Gil wasn't just 'someone she was seeing', and actually the man she had known for more than half a year and had been dating for more than half that time, now.

"It'll be great," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "We can carpool to work, I'll be right downstairs if you ever wanna talk--or cuddle."

"Gil," she admonished, but it came out as a light and air whisper as he kissed her cheek again, his five o'clock shadow against her skin.

He stopped nuzzling her just to look at her more solemnly. "You should tell Druig."

"It was your idea."

"Exactly," Gil made a face, shrinking somewhat. "He'll kill me."

Thena rolled her eyes, her spirits lifting by the moment. "It's not as if you're offering to shack up with me yourself."

He didn't laugh at her joke. He didn't even seem to realise it was a joke, just shrugged one shoulder. "I mean they're both only one bedroom units. Plus, I imagine you want some space for yourself for a little. Feel like you have some more control?"

Well, he was exactly right about that, as always. Although she hadn't expected his rebuttal to be that they would need a larger space if they were to live together. She just blinked, "precisely."

"So it's decided," he grinned again, and gave her another kiss for good measure. "I'll go talk to Karun, you talk to Druig. He really is worried about you."

"I know," she mumbled, feeling properly chastised. She unlinked her hands from behind his head and squeezed his forearms. "I'm sure he was desperate to call you."

"And I'm suggesting you move into my building instead of in with him?--he's gonna have my head."

Thena laughed genuinely for the first time that night. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from him."

Gil stared at her in a way that made her toes curl. He bent his head down to sneak into the crook of her neck under her jaw. "I know you will."

She shivered as he left a kiss on her pulse point.

But he left it at that, pulling away and standing to his full height again. It left her feeling chilly, needing to pull her cardigan tighter around herself. "Okay."

Thena nodded, letting him take her by the hand. She did have to talk to Druig--about everything. About moving and also about how she would be okay without him hovering over her shoulder. She would be okay without that hell hole and its medication and she would be okay even if she felt like this different version of herself, possibly forever.

Gil grasped the doorknob with his other hand, the door not fully closed and letting in just a sliver of light from the rest of the house. He held her other hand, giving it a squeeze. "Ready?"

She nodded, holding his hand tighter, just in case she needed it. But she smiled, "ready."

#Thenamesh Life Interrupted AU #I love this au!#and we love you Love!#Thena is feeling worse and worse about Druig moving out before proposing #he's all stressed about her staying with them #but stressed because she doesn't want him to stress #it's a lot going on #so Thena gets more withdrawn thinking about all this #and eventually Druig does the unthinkable #he texts his sister's boyfriend and tells him to get his ass down here and talk to her #they come out of her room #They're holding hands and Thena looks oh so besotted #Druig sits up from the couch holding Makkari like I already don't like this #Thena tells Druig listen she appreciates his concern and she'll come and visit all the time #but she's going to move into Gil's place #and Druig loses his everloving mind #he blows up about how it's too soon and they barely know each other and he doesn't trust Gil enough to let them shack up #and Thena lets him get it all out of his system before finishing saying: Gil's apartment........complex #Makkari: lol #Druig totally loses his steam and just goes oh...well I guess that's not so bad #because Thena knows how to break bad news to her little brother #Druig is still a little wary of it and he still tells Gil that if he ever thinks Thena is upset because of him #he's got a whole lot of hell comin' his way #but he's also a good brother and tells her he'll help her move and he's not going anywhere until she's settled #they haven't settled on a house yet anyway and he won't actually leave until Thena is settled #if she called and said I don't like it here Druig is like okay we're living in the townhouse forever #meanwhile Thena actually wants him to leave the nest so she and Gil can be cutesy flirty neighbours and carpool and have sleepovers

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flashbic · 1 month

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do 2 + 12 for le lorrain pls 🥺✌️ good morning

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

That he's 100% one of the good guys but ALSO that he's allowed to be a bit of a jerk! I love that while he says he regrets what he did to Falconi, just a few hours earlier he's right there, literally taunting him about it and being a dick. We know he still lies to ladies for attention! Despite how well that went the one time! In that other ep his dad is literally asking for his help, and sure he wants to help, but he was actually still going to say no before Cartouche stopped him because he was more focused on keeping his identity as a Cartouchien secret.

He's a nice, smart guy, and he comes off as smooth so it's not as easy to notice, but you kinda get the impression that he hasn't completely lost the asshole vibes! And i think that makes for a fun character!

(special mention to the one bit where he walks next to Demachault and messes up his wig Just For Funsies, it's so gratuitous and i just think it's funny ok)

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

Bisexual le Lorrain REAL. I like the idea that those aren't feelings he ever really did anything about, because ultimately he likes flirting with ladies a whole lot and that's enough for him… but maybe he had some confused feelings for his bestie Cartouche for a little bit, and maybe that's part of what made him tag along when they first met.

In general i don't really consider that orientation as something that would've influenced the way he treated Falconi back when they were rivals; for the most part i like to think that he saw that relationship more as competition initially, and that things turned sour because he couldn't stand having someone he thought of as beneath him beating him at anything. Also i see him typically being more attracted to people who are outgoing, funny and talkative, and Falconi being generally none of those things wouldn’t have helped asdfjgk (the fun point being that maybe Falconi could've been a little bit more like that if he hadn't felt like people were constantly antagonizing him)

My other headcanon is that he’s a single child ans is absolutely a mama’s boy <3 She taught him music (canon!) and maybe spoiled him a little too much.

#cartouche prince des faubourgs #people need to send me more Cartouche asks bc i NEED to write down my thoughts on all these characters ok i love them so much #the big fanfic hadn't been planned to be shippy initially! and part of what i like about it is that at first #both Falconi and le Lorrain don't see much to like about each other #le Lorrain is attracted to fun outgoing people! people he can banter and joke around with! Falconi just seems cold and mean and not fun #meanwhile Falconi thinks everything about this guy is off-putting. he's loud and annoying and never seems to think!#and of course Falconi clings to his perception of le Lorrain from 10 years ago; when he was selfish and saw commoners as beneath him #so the fic is one massive slow burn bc they just. need to befriend each other before they can possibly find each other attractive #Falconi is always going to be kinda quiet! but he's confident and can actually be fun and snarky when he's around people he trusts #and sure le Lorrain is always going to be kinda loud but he's changed! he doesn't need to be the center of attention all the time #he knows how to pay attention to people and he actually does care! and of course he's smart when you actually sit down and talk to him #and look sure beyond all of this there's basic physical attraction #but neither of them were possibly going to acknowledge any of THAT while everything else was in the way #le Lorrain

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