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#i want a fic about him
emjiroki · 4 months
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Sugar daddy! Gojo sliding up next to you at the bar in his $4,000 Prada suit, asks what your drinking and orders two before introducing himself. He's charming, he knows it, and he just can't help himself but to use it with the full intent to have you leaving with him and in his bed tonight
He's got you cumming around his fingers in the back of his car a couple of hours later, you whining in agreement to be his sugar baby, let him take care of you and let you cum as much as you want while spending every last dime he gives you
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vastpotato · 7 months
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Love that tma is so traumatic constantly that we all gloss over the fact that Jon was kidnapped and forcibly moisturized while tied to a chair for a month.
Every time I think too hard about it it actually freaks me out. And Jon never talks about it again which also freaks me out
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petricorah · 1 month
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scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]
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ghostbsuter · 5 months
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Danny got comfortable on the roof, leaning froward with anticipation.
A silent thump and a person slid next to him, Danny barely gave the red head a glance.
"Any reasons to be on the roof at night?"
He shushes the vigilante, eyes not leaving the spot. It has Roy crouching next to him, watching as well.
Out of nowhere, a vampire looking fella flew around wildly, not far behind a ginger woman on a hoverboard, flying after him.
The Lady is shooting lasers with deathly accuracy, the man (?) dodging barely. It had Arsenal hum at the show.
"That's my mom." Danny points at the lady. "The guy she's hunting keeps harassing me so she took matters into her own hands."
Cheshire Cat lands not far away from the two, head tilted with a silent question that had Roy nodding and she is leaping away to the next roof once more.
"Why not call the authorities?" He asks, appearing less tense and more friendly to the teen.
The kid whistles sharp with a grin before answering.
"Tried, unfortunately, he's super rich with influence and connection. So here we are." He shrugs.
While they watch the chaos a bit longer, Roy ignores the insisting buzzing from his comm, Cheshire Cat probably alarmed Oliver by now.
He looks up when Danny stands, stretching.
"What was your name again?" He quirks his brow with a smile.
"I don't remember telling you."
Roy rolls his eyes, joining the teen to his feet. "So?"
"Danny."
He steps off the roof before Roy can react, a shout building up, until he sees the kid sitting on the hoverboard of his mother, her hand ruffling his hair.
"See ya, Arsenal."
They're long gone when Arsenal huffs, laughing.
"Until next time, Danny."
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psqqa · 7 months
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yes, yes i know edgeworth’s big wet eyes and loser boy personality have captivated us all, but listen. listen.
phoenix wright
phoenix “genuinely unable to reconcile the girl on the stand with the girl he dated for eight months, a cognitive dissonance so profound it’s ultimately explained by them being literally two different people, but which he first sits with for five years and does not talk about at any point to anyone” wright
phoenix “don’t mention that name to me. i don’t want to talk about it. i don’t want to think about it. i am just going to keep myself in this state of perpetual crisis mode focus on other people’s problems until eventually i die and get to hang out with mia on the astral plane and never have to deal with any of these emotions ever again” wright
phoenix “overnight loses his career and reputation and sense of identity while gaining an adopted, probably pretty traumatized eight-year-old daughter, and rather than leaning on his friends for help, or getting therapy, or taking any time to process any of this, he *checks notes* spends seven years dedicating all his free time and energy to investigating the weird fucking circumstances around it and maintains a friendship with the guy he suspects was behind it all” wright
phoenix "runs across a burning bridge and falls through it, half a day after the game establishes that he is terrified of heights, because his friend is on the other side of that bridge" wright
phoenix “i sure felt surprised. maybe i had my poker face on” wright
phoenix “looking back on it that was actually a pretty dark period in my life” wright
phoenix “don’t ask me how i got started. i don’t remember” wright
phoenix “only you stood still, your eyes calmly watching” wright
phoenix “sometimes, life just sucks” wright
just
phoenix wright
crunchiest man in the world
and all i wanna do is chew and chew and chew on him
#ace attorney#where are all the people gnawing on phoenix's bones so white??#i need to find the phoenix bone-gnawing corner of this fandom PLEASE#this is me asking for the Phoenix Fic btw#where is the fic meditating on phoenix's whole mental state in general?#where is the fic about how it's phoenix's cageyness and poker face and flat affect under stress that is the hurdle?#the relationship ramifications of being actually really fucking hard to read when it comes down to it?#where is the fic about the week of his disbarment?#the one detailing the panicked blow by blow of it rippling through his social circle while he stands in the eye of the storm?#the one that ends messy and anxious and unresolved because it's week 1 of 7 years?#where is the birth of phoenix wright: poker legend fic?#where is the art school/theatre major phoenix fic?#no not the able to art/act phoenix fic but the kind of person who chooses to go to art school/study theatre phoenix fic#where is the supremely disinterested in pop culture phoenix fic?#where is the actually incredibly meticulous and competent phoenix fic?#capcom can tell me all they want that he's essentially an adhd disaster flying by the seat of his pants making it all up as he goes#but that's not what they're actually showing me#they're the ones who created an in-fiction legal system that functionally necessitates that#and the nature of the game is that phoenix is almost always proven right so rather than him coming off as hare-brained#his opponents rather just come off as short-sighted. either negligently or maliciously so#and the choices the writing makes in service of retaining mystery and audience suspense in fact function to make phoenix a person#who is astute and puts the pieces together but is cautious in his conclusions#i will grant them that phoenix does tend to lose sight of his overarching goal in getting drawn into proving or disproving minor points#the fact that edgeworth on the other hand never loses sight of this or where the various arguments stand in relation to it#is his sexiest trait as a character by far#but those minor points are actually functionally critical to the ultimate argument phoenix makes#so even though i do read that trait through the game mechanics i do also judge the other characters for being dicks about it#my point is phoenix wright does in fact have the character of a lawyer and is conventionally good at his job fucking fight me#my point is that you all have had 20 goddamn years to Rotate this man#my POINT is that there should be Intricate Fucked Up Meditations On Phoenix that rewire my fucking brain and i NEED to know where they are!
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leverage-ot3 · 1 month
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okay I absolutely get and adore harry being oblivious about ot3 developments, but consider:
after breanna makes it explicitly clear she’s queer in the card game job, harry starts Researching™
he’s trying to be good, be better. he likes this girl and wants to be there to support her and be her friend, someone she can trust. it doesn’t help that she’s around the same age as his daughter, who barely wants to associate with him anymore
he learns breanna is queer and dives into researching. watching TED talks in his spare time. reading ebooks on his phone in between playing roles in a con (bringing a physical book is less convenient and he doesn’t want to wave around the fact that he’s researching like he’s trying to be performative about it). he reads about legislation and book bans and wonders about how they could work their magic through a con to fix those things. he reads about asexuality and recognizes the flag colors from the sticker on breanna’s laptop, which he files away for later
he learns a lot! he has been peripherally aware of queer stuff- it’s kind of hard not to be in the 2020s, but now he is much more informed on a lot of issues. he has memorized at least 50 different labels and terms and has an index of resources in his head (and on his phone) if anyone might need them. he wants to understand the people he loves and cares about, whether it’s breanna or one of his daughter’s friends, or anyone in his life that is queer and he doesn’t know it yet. he wants to be ready and prepared to support them!
he learns about sapphicness and bisexuality and intersex rights and the gender spectrum. he learns about karyotypes and stonewall and other queer history. he learns about kink (blushing, but still reads because it’s important!) and relationship diversity… which leads him to discover the term polyamory
he tries not to actively apply the terms he has learned on the people in his life because he knows it’s wrong to assume things about other people. BUT. harry spends a few days reflecting on parker, hardison and eliot’s interactions and wonders. he thinks about the long hugs and lack of personal space and near telepathic communication not just between parker and hardison, but parker and eliot AND hardison and eliot. how parker knows how to make eliot take care of himself, how he knows when she forgets to eat because she’s so hyperfixated on planning a con. how parker jumps on his back for fun and no matter what, he always catches her. hardison’s absence is felt when he’s gone, deeply by the both of them.
it could just be a deep friendship, he knows. they have been working and living together for over a decade, of course they would be close!!! maybe they could even be queerplatonic! (another new word he learned!)
but. still. he quietly observes, watches closely, and thinks.
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gazspookiebear · 2 days
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Mmm, thinking about Ghost going on a date with reader after not having been in a proper relationship in years
He was never one for hookups, and he could never keep long-term relationships. Most lasted about a month at most before he backed out.
Fast forward to now, he's been invited out by you. He figures it'll be like most other dates, a quick dinner at a noisy restaurant before he gets overwhelmed and leaves.
To his surprise, it isn't. You kept his comfort in mind and suggested a walk by the bay instead.
When he walks beside you in silence, you don't seem to take offense. In fact, you don't seem to mind at all. You fill in his silence with easy conversation, keeping it focused on you and not trying to pry into his personal life.
You don't hesitate when he responds with one word answers, instead taking the opportunity to discuss an interest of your own. By the time it's long past dark out, you offer to take him home, apologizing for not acknowledging the time sooner. He didn't want to stop listening to your voice
When he declines your offer, you smile. You tell him to stay safe, to rest well, and to text you when he gets home.
At his apartment, he can't stop thinking about you. About how polite and kind you were. About how you actually cared about his feelings, how you weren't off put by him.
He glances at his phone.
You receive a text at 1 in the morning. A simple 'Back safe.'
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Good People - Final Part
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
It is not often that Wayne is happy with the monotony of work. Tonight is one of those nights, if only because it allows him to think about where he went wrong speaking to Eddie. He had never meant to imply he thought Eddie was like Al; he'd meant the apple and tree comment to for Richard and Steve. However, he does acknowledge why Eddie drew the conclusion that Wayne might have thought Eddie would follow in Al's footsteps.
Wayne's being a hypocrite, applying the logic to one boy, but not the other. And even though he never, not once, thought that Eddie would become Al, he'll never be able to take that thought from Eddie's mind that he had. He can apologize until he's blue in the face, Eddie might even forgive him, but he's not sure Eddie will ever believe him. Not truly.
And how could Wayne expect him to?
No. That's a shame Wayne will take to the grave.
Next strike to Wayne's conscious; the misjudgment of Steve Harrington, and how it ties into the fact Eddie accused him of not trusting his judgement, and, moreover, Eddie being right. Wayne hadn't trusted in Eddie's trust of Steve.
He should have. It's been years since Eddie came home crying about a boy, but what father doesn't see their kid crying over their first heartbreak and doesn't grow protective? And with Eddie, it's even more terrifying. Getting mixed up with the wrong boy could mean bruised ribs, black eyes, or worse.
In a town like Hawkins, a boy would just have to claim Eddie made a sexual advance and his murder could (would) be justified.
Now add the manhunt and being suspected of murderer to that. Well, Wayne's scared for Eddie's life almost every minute of his day.
But it's no excuse. Or if it is, it's a poor one.
Wayne doesn't know the full story but he does know that Steve was with the group of people on Eddie's side; that he was there with the Henderson kid, the Buckley girl, and Nancy Wheeler, digging Eddie out of the rubble from the earthquake, getting him to the hospital as fast as they could.
Steve Harrington was part of the group that saved Eddie's life, and that should have meant more to begin with. Instead, Wayne's been waiting for a shoe to drop that very well isn't coming.
He's going to fix this.
He'll give Eddie his space to be angry with him, and he'll try again in a few days.
When Wayne gets home, around 6:30am, Eddie's van is gone. He's not surprised. He probably left shortly after Wayne did, not leaving sooner just to avoid him.
There is a note on Wayne's bed when he makes it there. Says he's at Steve, and instead of letting Wayne know when he'll return it just says the words 'be back' followed by a bunch of questions marks. He ends it with 'call if worried' and leaves a phone number that must be for the Harrington residence.
Another hurt Wayne can't blame on anyone but himself.
Wednesday passes. Wayne eats breakfast, goes grocery shopping, pretends to care about his shows before sleeping the afternoon away to prepare for another graveyard. Eddie has not returned when he wakes, and two short hours later, he's off to work.
Eddie's van remains gone.
Returns from work Thursday morning and repeats Wednesday. He replaces grocery shopping with laundry and cleaning out the leftovers for trash day tomorrow morning. Goes to work.
Friday morning he returns home. No Eddie. He waits for it to be a more appropriate time, a little before 10:00am to call the number Eddie left.
It rings, rings, rings, then, a voice he hasn't heard in years. Richard Harrington's voice sounds as cold as it always was as the answering machine recites, "You've reached the Harrington's. We are not available. Leave a message."
"This is Wayne Munson. I just wanted to make sure Eddie's- that's he's alright. Let him know that I called. Checked on him. He doesn't need to call back but I'd appreciate it."
He hangs up the phone, lump in his throat. He misses his boy, and he wants to make his right, but he can't force that. Eddie has to always want to make it okay between them.
He's usually off Fridays, but he asked to pick up a shift. He can't face Linda without having fixed this. He spends the morning and afternoon doing all the small fixes he'd been putting off. Anything to keep him busy. He goes to sleep at his usual time, and wakes up two hours before his shift like normal.
Check's his answering machine but if anyone called while he was asleep, they didn't leave a message. There's still no van when he heads to work.
The plant tells him to leave an hour early. He tries to argue to stay but he's just waved off, told to go get some sleep because he's been looking a little worse for the wear.
He gets back to Forest Hills around 5:40am and finds there is another car parked at his home. Not Eddie's van, but the sleek maroon BMW that belongs to Steve Harrington parked where the van usually is.
When he pulls into his spot, the headlights of his truck light up Steve, sitting on his steps, wrapped in a coat. It can't be more than 50℉ outside right now.
Steve stands as Wayne cuts the engine and climbs from his truck. He gets to the front of his truck and Steve speaks.
"Eddie's okay," Steve says, hands shoving deep into his pockets, "I tried to get him to call you back yesterday but, well, you know Eddie."
Wayne nods, because he does know Eddie. "I appreciate you tellin' me. But you coulda just called."
"I could have."
They look at each other for a moment, and just as Steve opens his mouth, probably to tell Wayne he's going to go, Wayne speaks first, "you wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee to warm up?"
Steve tilts his head slightly to the left before he says, "are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Alright," and then Steve steps away from the stairs so Wayne can climb them and let them into the trailer. Steve follows behind silently but with familiarity. He's spent so much of his time here since spring break- the shame crawls through Wayne again. He'd assumed, once upon a time, that Eddie and Steve spent more time here than at Steve's because why would Steve want the trailer park boy in his big fancy house? Now, though, he wonders if it's because this place felt more like a home, even with Wayne's cold shoulder.
Steve sits at their little kitchen table, a luxury they didn't have before because there was no room in the single wide, one bedroom they'd had before. The new double wide (with three bedrooms) offered them a bit more space for a dining area.
Wayne's still suspicious of the government's offer to replace their destroyed home, but he wasn't foolish enough to deny the offer when it was made to him by Jim Hopper (newly returned from the dead back then).
"How do you take your coffee?" Wayne asks, once the machine finishes filling the carafe.
"Oh, I can fix it-"
"Nonsense," Wayne waves him back to sitting, "just tell me."
"I like it with just enough milk to take the scalding heat out of it," Steve says, and while Wayne's not sure just how much that it, he tries anyway.
He sets a cup in front of Steve before taking a seat across from him. "I really do appreciate that you came to tell me Eddie's okay. I want to give him his space but...."
Steve sips his coffee before shooting his cup a small smile. Wayne must have got the ratio right. Then, he looks to Wayne and the smile drops, a more serious expression taking its place and he says, "Eddie wouldn't really tell me what your fight was about, other than, uh, me and that you... overheard some of what I said last time I was here. I don't, like, want to come between you and Eddie, but I'm not, I'm not going to let you scare me away. So, just tell me what I have to do to get Eddie to believe we're cool, and I'll do it. Anything, except for getting out of Eddie's life. 'Cause I won't."
"I would never ask you to do that," Wayne says. Steve squints at him, a look of suspicion now. Completely warranted, given what Steve has known of Wayne thus far. "I owe you an apology, Steve. For how I've been treatin' you."
Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh. What? Why?"
"You've been nothin' but good to Eddie. For Eddie. And I refused to see that. I made a judgment about you without knowin' anything but your name." Steve let's out a soft 'oh' at that, but Wayne plows on, "And that weren't fair, and it weren't right. I can't undo it, but I want you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."
"Okay," Steve says, after a moment. "I forgive you."
It's Wayne's turn to be surprised. He's a bit speechless. So much so, he takes a page right out of Eddie's book and asks, "are you sure?" which is a question he's never asked after having an apology accepted before, but one Eddie had asked a lot when he first came to live with Wayne, and they were learning to co-exist.
"Yeah. I get it."
He doesn't like that answer. Doesn't like the he contributed to the mind set that gave Steve that answer. "You're allowed to be mad at me for it."
"I think Eddie's mad enough for both of us."
It doesn't feel like closure. It doesn't feel like forgiveness, but Wayne doesn't know what to say. He can't just start sprouting all the bad things he thought about Steve; there's no reason Steve should have to listen to that. But without hearing it, Steve doesn't even know what he's forgiving Wayne for. "I'll be honest with ya, Steve. It feels like you shouldn't."
Steve frowns at him. "Why?"
Why? Why? For all the reasons Eddie yelled at him, and all the things Linda said, and all the agony he's felt these last few days. The guilt and the shame that still eat at him, even as Steve Harrington says he forgives him. "It's too easy."
Those three words have Steve leaning back against the chair. His eyes dance around Wayne's face before taking in the whole of him. Or, what Steve can see of him with from across the table. When Steve meets his eye again, Wayne sees recognition there. "If you can't forgive yourself, I get that. I do. I-I've spent most of my life as one big apology. And I'm not saying that I, like, don't still feel like- what I mean to say, is that, I forgive you. I'm not, like, gonna hold it against you that you were just trying to look out for Eddie, man. Like, two years ago your fears would have been justified, so."
"Don't make it right," Wayne argues, but he doesn't know why.
"No," Steve agrees, "but I'm forgiving you anyway. You think you're the first person to hear the name Steve Harrington and assume you know everything you need to know about me already?"
Steve's words sound like they could be confrontational, but his tone is light. Teasing? Wayne says, "no. Suppose I'm not."
"Every person I love has done that," Steve says, and the ease of which he says that has Wayne feeling some sort of way. Eddie's words echo in his mind 'you made me help him feel that way'. How many other people have made him feel like he's a bad person? "Even- even Eddie. He made a point, during spring break, to, uh, well, he didn't apologize for anything because there was nothing to apologize about, but he made a point to tell me I was very 'metal' and a 'cool dude' so.... I know my name comes with, like, a shadow or a curse or whatever. I think it will for as long as I live in Hawkins, but that's," Steve flaps his hand in the air, as if that fills in for the word he can't find, and it's a move so reminiscent of Eddie. "Anyway, if you aren't actually, like, ready to accept an apology, you shouldn't be making one."
Wayne sits in that for a moment. There's a lot more to Steve Harrington than he'd ever thought. So much he doesn't know, actually, but he thinks he's okay with learning more. This boy told Eddie he was half-way in love with him earlier this week, and while Wayne never heard Eddie say it back, he knew anyway. It's why he was so protective. "You're pretty wise for your age."
Steve grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that last part was all Robin. She says it all the time to me."
"Well, then you best stop apologizing when you ain't ready to accept the forgiveness," Wayne parrots back the words.
Steve throws his head back and laughs.
They finish their coffee with silence and small talk. Steve tells him about how he never thought he'd miss his job at the video store but working at Melvald's is making him long for the days when the biggest complaint was late fees. Apparently, there's so many more things to complain about in retail.
Wayne talks about working at the plant and how the tasks are repetitive and a bit labor intensive, but the graveyard pay is worth it. Steve asks him a few more questions about working at the plant that Wayne's happy to answer and the more Steve asks, the more Wayne becomes aware that Steve might be looking for a change of occupation. He makes a mental note to put in a good word to Floyd, just in case.
Steve leaves with the promise of returning with Eddie, as soon as possible. As he was heading to the door, Wayne asked why he showed up so early.
"Eddie can't stop me if he's not awake," was Steve's answer, a mischievous grin on his face.
Wayne watches from the porch as Steve backs out. Steve shoots him one last little wave with his fingers before heading away.
He goes back inside and washes the dishes. Even dries and puts them away, a feat usually done once a week; he and Eddie have no qualms with using dishes directly from the dish drainer. His only other chore for the day is leaving for work a bit early so he has time to stop at the gas station and fill up the truck.
Grabbing the remote from its spot on the coffee table, Wayne plops onto the couch to spend his day as mindlessly as possible with some TV.
He goes to sleep at his usual time and wakes up at 7:43pm according to his alarm clock; a little over two hours before his shift is to start. It's time for more coffee, he thinks as he dresses for work before heading to the kitchen.
He jerks to a stop when he sees Eddie and Steve sitting on the couch, leaned close and talking softly. He's not about to repeat a past mistake, so he makes his presence known. "Evenin' boys."
Eddie pops up from the couch quick as lightning, taking a few steps towards Wayne before stopping. "I don't like being mad at you."
Wayne nods, "I don't much like you bein' mad at me, either. For what it's worth, I am sorry."
Eddie closes the distance between them, then, and pulls Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne returns it instantly, how can he not? He hears Eddie say, softly, "it's worth an awful lot, you terrible old man."
They part, and Eddie speaks first, "but if you ever pull shit like this again, I won't be so quick to forgive."
"I won't," Wayne says, at the same time Steve says, "he won't."
Both Munsons look at Steve, who grins back at them.
"You think you know my uncle that well already, from one shared cup of coffee?" Eddie asks, sounding amused.
Steve shrugs, "no. I just, uh, plan to stick around, y'know. Kinda hoping there's no dude after me for him to be an angry dad about. I would appreciate it, though, Mr. Munson, if you'd skip the shovel talk bit of all this?"
Eddie sucks in a breath and Wayne's a bit shocked by what Steve's implied. What Steve's admitted, really, out loud in front of another person. Wayne wonders if any boy Eddie's ever liked before would have done that.
"What good's a shove talk when you've already told me you ain't goin' anywhere?" Wayne says, hoping his tone is as light and teasing as he wants it to be.
"Glad we're on the same page," Steve agrees, "but, uhh, do you want me to go? So you can have a real talk?"
"No," says Eddie.
"No," says Wayne, at the same time.
"Oh. Okay. Uh, in that case, you got anything to drink here besides coffee?"
Wayne nods and they all pile into the kitchen to get a beverage before settling in the living room. There will be time to talk later, Wayne realizes. He's going to apologize properly.
Later, though, when he'll really be ready to accept Eddie's forgiveness, because there's no doubt Eddie'll forgive him. So, he's going to sit in the living room and chat with his boys until he has to go to work.
By the time Friday comes around again, he'll be able to tell Linda she was right, everything's going to be okay one day, and maybe ask her on a date he's been putting off asking for since high school.
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Done!! I hope the ending is sufficiently cheesy.
I'm so sorry if I missed you! There were a lot of people asking to be tagged haha
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @kaij-basil-lionelli88 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mugloversonly @limpingpenguin @krazyperson @acrolius @salisbury-at-the-stake @littlebookworm86 @savedbytheirmusic @wxrmland @myownworstenemyyy @thelittleclare @awkotaco24 @djohawke @wrenisflying @croatoan-like-its-hot @actualwakingnightmare @krowepoison @jamieweasley13 @yourmom-isgay @irregular-child @oldwitcheshat @abstractnaturaldisaster @wishiwasacasualfan @vinteraltus @zerokrox-blog @warlordess @stevesbipanic @steveshairspray @slowandsteddie @samsoble @waelkyring @just-a-tiny-void @saramelaniemoon @halfadoginatank @nightmareglitter @scarletyeager @hellfireone @rovia2312 @munsonslure @a-little-unsteddie @soaringornithopter @eddiethehunted @starlight-archer @dryptid @inkjette
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rainbow-nerdss · 1 year
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"How come you never talk to me about sports?"
It's late in the afternoon on a lazy Sunday, and they're just curled up on the couch together. Eddie's got a book in one hand, and he's carding the fingers of his other through Steve's hair. Steve's got the sports pages from the morning paper in his lap, and he's looking through it idly.
He stops when he hears Eddie's question, though, cranes his neck back to look at him.
"Huh?"
"How come you never talk about sports? I just realised I don't even know what teams you support." Eddie dog-ears his book and sets his book aside as he asks.
Steve frowns. "But… you don't care about sports. Like, at all. Why would I bore you by talking about it?"
"Are you bored when I talk about D&D?” Eddie asks, hand stilling in Steve’s hair. Steve shakes his head. “I tell you about my sessions all the time. I tell you about the books I'm reading and music shit, and you always listen to me. You don't really care about any of that stuff, either."
Steve shakes his head. "Yeah, but that’s different,” he tries to argue.
“How so?”
Steve wracks his brain for the words to describe it. “I like listening to you talk about D&D because you get so excited. I like hearing you talk about something you care about."
Eddie smiles and kisses Steve’s forehead. He looks almost smug, like he’s won a debate Steve hadn’t even realised he was part of.
"So let me ask again. Why don't you talk about sports more?"
Steve is quiet, staring at nothing in the distance as he puts the pieces together.
"I never... Nobody ever.... I mean, except Lucas, but Robin and Dustin always rolled their eyes when I made references to it, so..."
Eddie cups Steve’s face and looks him in the eye. "Tell me something."
"What?"
"I don't know. What's the drama right now? How's your team doing in the league or the championship or whatever it's called? Tell me about the last game you saw on TV! I wanna hear you talk about your interests, too."
Steve feels warmth burst in his chest as he sets the newspaper aside. 
Eddie leans back against the couch, watching fondly as he listens. Steve is hesitant at first, stumbling over his words. A little voice in the back of his head keeps tripping him up, telling him Eddie doesn't care about any of this and you're boring him, wrap it up.
Every time he lets the voice win, though, every time he stops talking, trails off, or tries to change the topic to something Eddie might enjoy more, Eddie asks him a question.
"What does that rule mean?"
"How does team selection even work?" 
"What would your dream line-up look like right now?"
And Steve answers. And Eddie listens.
When Eddie finally runs out of questions, Steve's surprised by how happy he is.
"You're really cute when you talk about sports, you know that right? Your face lights up with it."
Steve leans in and kisses Eddie. "I love you."
"Love you too, babe. I really do."
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Had this “Steve only hates impersonal nicknames” idea in my notes for a while and then after seeing @cholvoq​ ‘s wonderful art I had to turn it into a real thing for Valentine’s Day. This is 2.4k, i’m SO sorry edit: you can now read this on ao3 :)
Eddie’s a nickname guy. It’s always Dusty this and Gare-Bear that and JeffJeff here and Bobbie there and it’s Mikey and Maxxii and Nance-pants and Johnny and… big boy?
Him being a nickname guy makes it near impossible to hide his crushes. Thankfully, Steve had been really cool about it. Sure, he seemed a little stunned, but Eddie still had all his teeth in place by the end of that interaction, so he had called that a win.
He hadn’t known then that Steve was… different. Or he was starting to see it but what he thought was shocking then had really been just the tip of the iceberg. He hadn’t expected Steve to be nice. Or funny, or caring, or protective, or understanding.
He had learned all of that after everything. During chats on Hellfire nights while the kids cleaned up after themselves, during hangouts at the diner with Robin and Nancy, during Saturday afternoons when he went to pick out a movie only to end up talking with Steve, their conversation flowing until it was cut short by Steve’s shift ending.
After some time, Eddie had gotten to know Steve even more during long weekday nights when one came over to bring the other something they left behind, or to share a record, or to demand the beers the other owes or to show the other a stupid article in a stupid magazine only to end up making dinner together and watching a movie afterwards.
They stopped making excuses about two weeks ago.
Eddie had asked “do youuu… wanna come over?” on Saturday night, while nervously twirling his keys as Steve locked the front doors of the Family Video.
The evening chill had cut right through Eddie’s leather jacket as his keys clanged against his rings. But Steve had nodded with a smile and asked “pizza?” on their way to their cars, and Eddie had forgotten all about the cold.
Point being, Steve had been just fine with ‘big boy’ when it happened. Eddie’s a nickname guy. Him and Steve are hanging out more now, and so, Eddie’s been calling him more nicknames. Some of them are very intentional, others come completely without thinking, and it turns out, Steve takes issue with a few of them.
The first time it happens, Eddie’s underneath his van trying to get the damn thing to cooperate, the recent winter was tough on it, and it keeps dying out on him.
Steve sits nearby perched on a little stool, wearing his Family Video vest since he came by right after finishing his morning shift to see if they could make plans for lunch. Eddie suggested they grab something at the diner if and when he finally gets the van to start back up and Steve had agreed to wait.
He’s been telling Eddie about tonight’s basketball- game? match? super bowl? Is there such a thing as the major leagues of basketball? Eddie’s not sure, but he adores the sound of Steve’s voice and he’s kind of invested in the drama of players switching teams and retiring and whatever else Steve wants to tell him about. So, he’s been listening, not really bothering with asking for clarification for what he doesn’t understand yet. He’ll figure it out as they go.
He's blindly patting the floor around his legs for his rag, when he feels Steve put it right in his hand.
Eddie’s relieved. "Thanks, bud!" he says, the nickname just rolling off his tongue effortlessly, no meaning attached.
It gets kind of quiet all of a sudden. After about five seconds of Steve not talking, Eddie comes out to check on him, and finds him frowning at his legs.
"Don't call me ‘bud’" Steve requests, looking up at his face, his tone just a tad harsh. Eddie would think he ran into King Steve if he didn't know any better.
As it is, Eddie gets Steve probably thinks the nickname is childish or patronizing, so he doesn’t think twice of it, just gets a little sheepish and says "sorry, Stevie".
Steve smiles at that, a little cocky. He does his little mean girl shaking his head thing like he just got exactly what he wanted. Eddie feels his face twist a bit in confusion, but he likes it when Steve gets a little mean so he doesn't say anything about it and just dives back under his van as Steve resumes their conversation.
 The second time it happens, they’re outside the supermarket. The kids shot out of the van as soon as it rolled to a stop, Steve calling out a warning after them while still listening to Eddie explain why Star Wars and Star Trek are actually very different but really good in their own way. Their conversation carries on as they hop out of the van, lock up and walk to meet at the front.
“I’m telling you, Star Trek is great. You would love it,” Eddie says, “you just have to give it a chance”.
Steve rolls his eyes at him, but Eddie can see his smile.
“Ok, alright,” Steve answers, “you can show me tonight then”, it’s almost too nonchalant. Eddie has to hide his grin.
Steve’s been suggesting they hang out more and more lately, and he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful. They clearly enjoy each other’s company, their time together is never dull, Steve seems to be really comfortable around him and maybe, just maybe…
“Should we get beers then?” Eddie asks, excited at the prospect of some more time alone with him.  They haven’t had a weeknight hangout since Eddie fixed his van last week. He kinda misses the very specific color of Steve’s eyes in the Harringtons’ yellow living room lamplight.
“Yeah,” Steve says, his eyes get soft in a way Eddie only started noticing a couple of weeks back, “we can watch it at my place” he adds. Eddie thinks he definitely hasn’t seen him look at anyone else like that.
To shake himself out of the spell of the prettiest boy he’s ever met making the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen at him and ONLY him, Eddie grabs Steve by the wrist and starts marching them towards the supermarket’s front doors.
Without thinking, Eddie says "c'mon man," as they go.
Steve, who started easily following him (like he always does these days), suddenly stops in his tracks. Eddie gets pulled back and almost stumbles on top of Steve. He'd get flustered if Steve wasn't frowning at him like he’d just said the most insulting thing he’d heard this month.
"Don't call me ‘man’" Steve says. Eddie feels his eyebrows raise a bit.
He debates asking why but doesn't question Steve in the end. He’d rather offer understanding than judgement to him any day.
So, Eddie takes advantage of Steve's wrist in his hand, and squeezes there a bit, says "I'm sorry sweetheart" sincerely, looks into Steve's eyes so he can see Eddie means it.
Steve blushes a bit then, not really used to the nickname yet, Eddie just got the balls to start using it last week. Eddie himself is not really used to seeing Steve blush, and at something he says? It’s too much power for one metalhead.
But he gets distracted from Steve’s blush because it happens again, Steve basically preens like a peacock once Eddie switches nicknames. Looks smug, like he has Eddie wrapped around his finger and well, Eddie guesses he does, so, no arguments there either.
He just smiles back at Steve, really, has no other choice, it’s not like he can control how he reacts to the most gorgeous fucking face the universe could ever come up with. But he tugs him along again, Steve happily following this time.
The next time it happens, Steve’s leaning against his kitchen island, with Eddie leaning across from him against the counter.
The party is watching a movie in the Harringtons’ living room and at some point, Eddie got up to get himself another soda, Steve not so subtly followed after him, taking the empty popcorn bowls to the sink. He struck up a conversation and there they stayed.
Eddie’s been turning the small gesture around and around in his head. Clearly Steve’s not shy about seeking him out, and he’s obviously good with the party knowing, which means a hell of a lot because those are Steve’s people, that’s his family.
Eddie’s honestly running out of excuses to not ask him out. Seeing him reaching out to bump his sneaker against Eddie’s boot when he says something funny, laughing just a little too hard at Eddie’s dumb joke; seeing his eyes widen a bit when Eddie compliments him; seeing him notice when Eddie is holding back from talking too much, and not letting it go until he thinks Eddie’s shared all of his opinions on the subject; Eddie thinks maybe he can be brave, when it comes to Steve.
And this week might be the perfect time.
Here they are still, the movie long ended and several easy conversations floating from the living room to the kitchen, where they’re still engrossed on their own.
“I mean I taught the kid how to do his hair for god’s sake!” Steve is saying, Eddie’s laughing easily, and he has a slight suspicion Steve’s acting way more annoyed than he really is because he knows Eddie dies laughing every time Steve roasts the kids.
“Just, if he’s gonna give me hair advice, he should work on that goddamn tone. At the Very Least.” Steve finishes, Eddie giggling all the while at his Annoyed Mom tone.
"Yeah, dude!" Eddie agrees, wanting to egg him on, but Steve's face suddenly falls and whatever remark Eddie had locked and loaded just fades away.
Eddie blinks perplexed; he’s getting déjà vu.
Steve frowns at him, says "Don't call me ‘dude’".
It’s eerie, only he sounds a bit annoyed this time.
Eddie thinks, maybe someone called Steve ‘dude’ before in an unpleasant way, so he doesn't pry.  Instead, he takes the chance to call him a nickname he likes more, and says "Sorry, pretty boy", his heart fluttering in the milliseconds he has to wait for Steve’s reaction.
And it happens one last time: Steve absolutely beams at that one, his smile so bright it makes Eddie want to jump in place.
He leans further back on the counter returning the smile, not noticing the common thread in Steve’s reactions to him switching nicknames.
But then the glint in Steve’s eyes suddenly brightens a dim corner of Eddie’s brain. He gets this feeling that reminds him of a perfectly set up riddle or finding that one perfect note for his latest song. It’s like everything suddenly just makes sense.
Eddie feels realization dawn on his face as he pushes himself off the counter to walk right into Steve’s personal bubble, grabs both of Steve's hands.
"Steve" Eddie says, not even caring that he sounds like the name is dripping in honey when it comes out of his mouth. With how sweet Steve is, it might as well be.
Steve just looks at him a little stunned, but doesn't say anything. Eddie draws circles in the back of his palms to reassure him.
"Why don't you want me to call you ‘dude’?" Eddie asks, trying to find out if this whole thing is what he thinks it is.
Steve looks down at their joined hands,.
"You call Nancy that sometimes..." Steve mumbles.
His answer would sound inconsequential to the unsuspecting, certainly would have to Eddie as late as last week, but Eddie thinks he’s finally getting it, and he hums his understanding.
"How ‘bout ‘man’?" he asks
Steve replies "You call Robin that sometimes..." his eyes still on their hands.
Eddie nods his agreement.
"I call everyone those things" he points out.
Steve agrees. "Exactly" he says, finally looking at him again, sounding annoyed and confirming Eddie’s suspicions.
Eddie feels his face split into a smile. He wants to grab Steve’s beautiful freaking face and just plant one on him.
"Can I still call you sweetheart?" he ventures instead. The nickname brings the hint of a smile to Steve's face but then he seems to realize something not so pleasant.
"Do you call someone else ‘sweetheart’?" Steve asks in return.
"No one" Eddie says, shaking his head, his tone vehement.
"Then yes" Steve finally answers. Eddie's heart wants to beat right out of his chest.
He interlocks their fingers to ground himself, Steve looks down at their hands and smiles at the sight.
"So, you don't want me to call you something I call someone else?" Eddie states, more than asks, calling Steve’s eyes back to his again.
"Anyone else" Steve confirms, holding his gaze.
Eddie lets out a small shuddering exhale and feels his heart fluttering in his throat, he really cannot believe this boy.
"Steve" Eddie drawls, dripping in honey again, his hands coming up to cradle Steve's face because he really can't resist anymore "Sweetheart" he says.
Steve's eyes grow a little wide and he starts blushing so much that Eddie can feel it in his palms.
"Steevieeee" Eddie sinsongs, squeezing Steve's face a bit "Pretty boy" Eddie calls him. Steve just keeps looking at him and a small smile blooms in his pretty, pretty face.
"Would you let me take you out to dinner this Friday?" Eddie finally asks him, his fingers curling to the back of Steve's head to play with his hair there. Steve's eyes get even wider.
" 's Valentine's this Friday" he points out. Eddie knows.
"Mmhm. Want you to be my Valentine." Eddie tells him, tugs his hair gently, "How's that sound?" he asks, bold in a way he never has been before. Steve blushing does things to him.
"Sounds nice" Steve answers. He smiles and nods while his hands hook on Eddie's belt loops.
"Then it's a date?" Eddie asks, trying not to sound too eager. He thinks he fails spectacularly but Steve beams and pulls him in to kiss his cheek.
"It's a date" Steve tells him, his breath ghosting on Eddie's cheek and making him shiver.
Steve pulls back, lets go of Eddie’s belt loops and tugs on a strand of his hair gently, smiling like the cat that got the cream as he walks back out into the living room.
Eddie’s gonna make this the best Valentine’s Day date Steve has ever been on.
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theminecraftbee · 8 months
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Grian’s unsurprised, when he heads back into Decked Out, to find Tango in the waiting room. He’s lying on the marble floor, one hand pressed against the moss, staring up at the fake sun shining down. In here, away from the much dimmer, bluer light of the citadel, he looks pale. Far too gaunt and skinny. His eyes seem a little sunken-in.
He’s smiling, though. There’s wonder in those sunken eyes. He keeps on looking around with something so fragile in his expression. Grian doesn’t really want to interrupt, but…
“You know you’re not supposed to stare at it, right?”
“Oh! Uh, Grian!” Tango says.
“‘Course, we made it so it wasn’t actually the bright bit. Can look at the sun all you want from here.”
“Yeah,” agrees Tango. “I sure can.”
“Touch grass,” Grian continues.
“I mean, technically it’s moss,” Tango says, drawing his hand away almost self-consciously. Grian swears in his head. Stupid. He wasn’t trying to…
“There were a lot of us hanging out,” Grian says. “It’s a nice room, isn’t it? All fun and cheerful.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it sure is,” Tango says. “Hey, Grian—”
“Nope. Not with me. Not gonna bother you about it. Just—you made something really cool, Tango. Plus, it was nice to see you. Haven’t seen you not in a hole in the ground for a while, you know? This isn’t quite the same thing, but since we’ll all be waiting in here for a while anyway…”
Slowly, Tango puts his hand back on the moss “Don’t worry. I’m happy,” Tango says. “I’m really, really happy. Hey, tomorrow, do you think just as many…”
“Tango, don’t be stupid. There might even be more of us.”
Tango sighs. It’s like some tension Grian can’t even name has left him. It should be nice, but there’s also something almost unsettling about it. The amount of contentment on Tango’s face—well, then again, Grian would be that kind of happy too, if he’d finished something that took over a year, and then it worked and everyone loved it.
“Yeah. That’s good. This is all really good. Yeah, I’m happy with this.”
But there’s something about how he’s showing it.
“Eat some more food while you’re up here. Scar’s been worried about you, and for some ungodly reason he’s been making it my problem. Do you hear me? Do you know how annoying it is when Scar makes something your problem?”
“Trust me, I know. Who else do you think he keeps bothering?”
“Fair enough. And don’t break our queue system! We worked really hard! I think Etho would kill you.”
Tango laughs. There are tears in his eyes, Grian realizes.
“I’m just—it’s so bright in here. And you all were laughing so much. And loved it so much. I’m so… happy. I’m so happy.”
Grian softens. “Yeah. Be proud.”
Tango beams. Grian goes back out of the waiting room. Something about it feels private, like he hadn’t been meant to intrude. He’ll dissect all that later. He’d just wanted to check in, since he’s here to add his decorations to the many cubbies everyone has decorated. Everyone really does love it. Tango’s going to be busy; between maintenance and everyone wanting to talk to him about what they’re doing, he’s never going to get a moment of peace alone. Might as well give him a little bit while he still can.
It feels important, somehow, for Tango to lie there and bask in it, in the moments he can.
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gardenofnoah · 4 months
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cw: implied sexual trauma, panic attack, intimacy struggles
You don’t notice it happening until it’s buzzing under your skin. Loud and unavoidable, the only thing you can pay attention to is the irregular flutter of your heart and the way it seems that all the air has been vacuumed from the room—
“Hey.”
You blink, and Katsuki is no longer above you. He’s not touching you at all—you turn your head to find him next to you, propped up on an elbow and only worried.
“Too much?”
The panic flares at the question, because what if this is the last time? What if he’s tired of this?
Your exhale is shaky—your laugh is forced and sounds out of place. “No, it was fine, I just—“
“Oi—“ he says, gently, “tell me the truth.”
The truth burns your eyes and keeps them on the ceiling, away from his. You nod, helpless and resigned to whatever comes next.
“What’s goin’ on in your head?”
You feel the tears spill over before you can catch them. You swipe them away with the back of your wrist. It’s still numb. “I’m just sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”
He grunts a little in acknowledgment—a displeased, ugly sound—and then there’s movement that finally draws your eyes to him. You watch him cover himself with your duvet—all the way up to his chin.
“S’it okay if I hold you?”
He reaches for you and you let him pull you in. His hands stay above your shoulders and pointedly avoid your neck—cradling your head, letting you hide in the curve of his throat. His pulse is steady and constant against your forehead—or you imagine it would be, if it wasn’t muted by the fabric.
“Nothin’ is ruined,” he murmurs against your hairline, “s’my job to keep you safe.”
Your chest shudders against the cushion of the blanket and you feel a little guilty about crying all over it but Katsuki keeps you there, tethered to him. The ringing in your ears subsides, just a little. Just enough to hear the panic in your own voice.
“I promise I want it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry—“
“Hey, hey,” he shushes you, careful not to tighten his arms around your shoulders. “Nothin’ to be sorry for. S’too much today—that’s all.”
It’s quiet, then, save for your sniffling. He keeps his mouth pressed to your hair, and his arms wrapped around you. There is a noticeable absence of his fingertips tracing along your skin—you don’t feel them there at all, and it’s on purpose. He’s considerate and it makes you anxious.
“Can hear you thinkin’.”
“I just—“ you inhale, trying to be brave, “I don’t want you to leave. I know I can’t—give you this—“
“Oi,” he gruffs, a little sharply, “I don’t give a shit about that. M’not a barbarian.”
You feel the expansion of his lungs as he draws in a slow exhale, and lets it out against the crown of your head. “Don’t think so little of me,” he murmurs, tone laced with hurt.
“You’re right,” you whisper, because he is, “I love you.”
“Love you.” He kisses it into your skin, soft and barely there. “Always will.”
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triona-tribblescore · 4 months
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They meet at some stupid house party~
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linddzz · 4 months
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Dreamling is at its best when it's either "we met three days ago and the wedding is next week (the wedding is a formality, Morpheus already tied our souls together don't ask how)" or a multi century slow burn where the burn is really just a long fuse leading to a cartoonish stack of gunpowder barrels and nothing in between
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petricorah · 11 months
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lee from the tea shop boutta get it (wip) [id in alt]
edit: completed illustration here
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tomurakii · 5 months
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I like bloodweave. Okay. But I DON'T like the version of them in fanfic where Astarion is a dick and Gale is like. Whining and pleading for him to be emotionally vulnerable (or just. Nice to him) prior to the relationship being established. Because that is just not accurate. Gale needs the player to express interest in him during his weave-teaching scene before he even considers hitting on them properly. Gale is entirely resigned to his fate and needs someone else to pull him away from it. Gale only starts being sweet and romantic and devoted after you accept his love confession and give him hope for the future. Gale says fuck all and then slinks away to cry privately if you break up with him.
Like he isn't chasing after people lmao. He isn't dropping to his knees and crying about anything much less this dickhead he met a week ago. He is overwhelmingly passive about literally everything personal to him up to and including his own death (provided there are no casualties/there is a good reason) until after the player expresses that they care about him. Astarion is not doing that in any of these fics.
Like Gale is friendly and a dork and doesn't wanna get murdered but he fully has a suicide plan. He thought the artefacts would help him survive but he didn't believe he'd ever truly live again. If Gale confessed and Astarion said/did like one (1) mean thing afterward Gale's romance is closed off forever. He's wandering into the forest to cry. He's killing himself immediately. His fragile ego and self worth can't take it. You have to understand that when we joke about him being pathetic it's not bc he's like. Sopping wet and chasing people down and begging for a scrap of attention. It's because he craves affection but would literally rather die than ask or even hope for it until someone else forces that hope back into his serotonin-deficient tadpole brain.
#i feel like u can tell when a bloodweave fic is written by an astarion stan vs a gale stan lol#because the astarion stans are just using gale as a vessel for like. their sopping wet meow meow#who screams and cries until astarion becomes emotionally vulnerable with them#which gale would not do. realistic bloodweave is astarion tries to fuck him in act 1 and he refuses because of the orb#and then astarion is like “boo what the fuck. change of plans” and gale is like “okay” and they never speak of it again lol#anyway#please god the gale characterisation in this place. half of you make him the soppiest most pathetic loser and the other half make him evil#he's not ACTUALLY a loser. when i joke about it the reason its funny is because its not true#hes just a regular guy with depression lol. hes not out here debasing himself begging for some old twink to care abt him#bg3#gale dekarios#bloodweave#gale of waterdeep#does this make sense. i havent slept#i just mean that if you want gale to be sappy he needs to have like. prior assurance that his feelings are reciprocated#because if he doesnt have that and astarion is a dick to him he WILL just give up on the relationship#like hes not hunting people down after they deliberately upset him. i see so many fics where they create tension by lime#*like#having astarion openly fuck someone else after establishing a sort-of relationship with gale. for the drama#like hey. gale fully dumps you if you do that in game!! you have no way to convince him not to. he will dump astarion for that permanently
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