#gale: i gotta blow up. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

johnslittlespoon · 5 months ago

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all the actor/celebrity au posts lately combined with troye bringing ross on stage last night for one of your girls has got me thinking...

a musician x musician au where gale is a troye sivan–esque ultra–famous queer pop star, and john's the singer of a well known indie rock band, and he gets asked by gale's team to star in a music video similar to one of your girls...

to everyone who doesn't know him personally, gale feels like this untouchable pop star. he's been in the industry for years, one of those classic 'i used to make music in my bedroom in my small town' stories, working his ass off before finally a song of his blows up and gets traction and then it's such a fast rise to stardom that he doesn't have time to wrap his head around it.

he never gets used to it, but he doesn't get an ego from it; he still hangs out with the same group of friends he's had since high school, and his team does most of his social media posting for him, because it freaks him out having all that attention, as grateful as he is. he's not shy by any means, not like he was when he started out, but he's not the biggest fan of all the fanfare and interviews and being put on a pedestal and all that. he keeps himself pretty distant online, and that coupled with the diva/superstar energy in his music/projects gives him this air of being on another level– a rare type of star all around.

john has a similar story, the whole growing up on the internet thing, making music in his basement in high school with the friends he's now in a pretty popular indie rock band with, working tirelessly to make a name for him and his friends. but that's kinda where their similarities end.

because john is known for being an absolute shit–poster, a little fiend online, a running joke in his fandom that 'john doesn't know that he's famous', 'should someone remind him this isn't a finsta?' type of vibe. he feels so accessible and down to earth, and while he's just as level headed and humble about his celebrity status as gale is, he displays it by being more present and trying to show the human side of it all, vs gale trying to create distance between gale cleven and the gale persona the world knows.

the band is first and foremost john's thing, but as he's grown in popularity, he's of course gotten offers for other avenues here and there, and at the insistence of his manager he decides to agree to try out a modelling shoot one day. he's not naive; he's more than aware of all the comments going on about his looks, stumbles across more tiktok thirst trap edits of him sweaty and shirtless on stage than he can count, isn't all too sfw in some of his band's songs, either.

he finds it all funny, but he also is someone who will always jump on new opportunities/experiences, and he ends up having a good time modelling, and picks up more gigs as time goes on. this is how gale becomes aware of him, somewhat because gale does occasional modelling too, but mostly because he's worked with a lot of big fashion names for tours and videos, so his and john's circles occasionally crossover, though they never actually meet in person.

so then comes this music video shoot, one that gale's been agonizing over for months, planning every little detail and making sure everything is perfect. it's something that drives his manager (marge? <3 gotta include the angel in every au obvs) insane because gale's got so much on his plate as is, but he likes to be so hands on with his projects, and she knows by now there's no talking him out of that. and everything is going great, until the person who's meant to be starring opposite gale has to pull out last minute due to a scheduling conflict or personal emergency or something.

and the usually very collected and put together gale is freaking out. it's the day before the shoot, everyone involved has already travelled to be on location, choreography is set in stone– this is his nightmare scenario, never doing well in situations where he has a lack of control. it's half of what scares him so much about being as famous as he is, is that he doesn't have a lot of autonomy or control over his own image or how he's perceived in the public eye (and digging deeper into backstory, probably stems from wanting to take back control after a childhood filled with being controlled by family.)

but it's situations like these where he's reminded why marge is his manager and he isn't, because she leaps into action the moment they find out about the cancellation, calming gale down so they can put their heads together to find a replacement. they reach out to a few of the names they have connections to, but it's too short notice for all of them, so maybe marge even just resorts to going through the people gale follows on instagram, and stumbles across john's page. he's got a good rep in industry and has worked on less 'conventional' projects before, so marge shuts down gale's fretting over "would he be comfortable with something like this?" by telling him there's only one way to find out, and contacting john's manager.

john agrees before he even hears the full pitch, and he's just as keen afterwards (albeit a bit nervous because by no means is he a professional dancer), knowing it'll be good publicity, and curious to explore a more artsy/out there gig, but also curious about the illusive gale, who he'd been surprised to receive a follow from a few weeks back.

john is flown out that night to the city of the shoot location, barely having a few minutes to change and head to the rehearsal space, where he meets a very frazzled but very thankful gale for the first time.

maybe they both have some preconceived notions about each other, despite having mutual respect and no actual interactions; john probably expects gale to be a bit stand–offish or conceited given his high celebrity status, but finds gale's actually bashful and quiet and easygoing when the cameras are off (when they're on, it's like he flips a switch, slipping into this persona, exuding confidence and sexuality and it honestly blows john's mind to witness in person).

gale probably expects to john to be loud and abrasive based off his well known social media posts, maybe even a little uncomfortable around gale, who is openly queer, whereas john isn't– maybe john hasn't ever stated his sexuality, has never given much thought to it, it doesn't matter much to him. instead he finds john's actually a little shy, much less bravado than he'd anticipated, but very enthusiastic and eager to learn and get the choreo and everything else right, assuring gale repeatedly that he's down to do whatever is needed.

so the two of them rehearse till the early hours of the morning, john taking it as seriously as though it's his own project he's invested months into, and gale gains such admiration for his commitment and willingness to stick his neck out for a borderline stranger (even though he's obviously aware this is a big boost for john's career). john gains a newfound appreciation for gale's work ethic and how much effort goes into every little thing for a huge artist like him.

and inevitably... there is sexual tension during the rehearsals. they're both overtired and sweaty and it's such a strange situation to meet for like five minutes and then jump right into dancing together so intimately, having to shed any inhibitions and self consciousness, but it's a blessing in the sense that they have to get comfortable around each other so quickly. there's no room for modesty or shyness, and john is genuinely speechless at how gale puts business first, and after double checking that john isn't uncomfortable, how he has no qualms about physically directing john, moving him how he wants him.

it's hot to john, the way gale knows exactly what he wants and is so passionate about his vision, and he'd be lying if he said the combination of being starstruck and being lowkey manhandled isn't getting to his head a bit. which is a whole other thing to unpack, because aside from vague acknowledgement of some men being attractive/beautiful, he's never actually found himself flustered by one like this, and it catches him off guard. he stays professional, but he still can't help but let his naturally flirtatious/joking personality slip out as the night drags on; he's like that with everyone he works with or hangs out with, and he thinks it would be weirder if he wasn't like that with gale, like everyone else would somehow notice.

meanwhile gale is fighting his own demons because he's got a very sought–after, very hot, very straight man dropping everything for him and letting him puppeteer him, on top of being so stubborn that even though gale can tell he's exhausted, john's refusing to call it a night until gale does, and THEN as if all that's not enough, john's effortlessly witty and complimentary and flirty. and gale's not one to mix business and pleasure, so he's not even entertaining these emotions, but he can't help but feel flattered by it all, while also reminding himself that john probably doesn't swing that way.

basically they both are discovering they have competence kinks lmao, like objectively they both find the other attractive, but it's not like they aren't constantly surrounded by beautiful humans in their lines of work, so it's more so the emotional side/work ethic that gets them both flustered, coupled with the inherent sexuality of dancing with very little clothing, hands on sweaty skin and toned muscles. but neither of them act on it, too tired by the time they call it a night even if they'd wanted to, and then it's back to their respective hotels to get a few hours of sleep before the shoot.

john isn't called to be on location until mid afternoon, and when he wakes up to his phone ringing and glances at the time, he freaks out, thinking he's slept through the shoot or something because he'd expected to be called early in the morning. he's told that he didn't sleep through it, but he's disoriented until he shows up, when he's told that gale had moved things around, filming as many scenes as he could without him before john was needed for his part, so that john could get more rest. (john swoons. just a little.)

he gets swept up in the capable hands of hair and makeup and wardrobe in his own trailer, and he doesn't see gale until it's time to film, and when he does, he almost doesn't believe it's gale. the glam makeup, the long blonde wig, the form–fitting sheer black dress and heels– gale's pretty as is, but with his features accentuated like that, john doesn't even know what to do with himself, feels like he's going through a midlife crisis at the ripe age of 25. he'd known gale would be in some sort of getup for their choreo, but nothing could've prepared him for this.

it makes it even more endearing that gale seems so awkward about it when he greets john, clearly out of his comfort zone in the ensemble, but john knows there's no way gale doesn't know how stunning he is, it's not a lack of confidence that's making him awkward. john keeps it together, reminds himself to be professional. tells gale it was really sweet that he let him sleep in, that he didn't have to do that, to which gale waves him off like it's no big deal. and he compliments gale too as they walk onto set, tells him, "you look great, wow," tame as he can be, and gale tells him "could say the same for you," and john snorts, gesturing to his simple jeans and boots and lack of shirt, says "feeling a bit underdressed, actually," and it gets a laugh out of gale.

when the cameras are rolling, any of that visible discomfort or awkwardness in gale disappears like someone's snapped their fingers and rid him of it, movements fluid like water, not an ounce of anything other than confidence and power and sensuality seeping through as he commands the camera with his energy. despite his aching body, john's grateful they ran the routine into the ground last night to the point that it's nearly muscle memory, because it's hard to concentrate when gale's looking down at him through long faux–lashes and gloss–plumped lips, caressing his jaw, playing with his hair, the sway of his hips and roll of his waist beneath john's hands so mesmerizing, john's half convinced he's being serenaded by a siren.

the tension would be insane, but equally confusing because neither of them would be able to discern what's an act and what's not, or if it's all just an act, pushing and pulling at an invisible line but never quite stepping over it even once the shoot wraps, both for the sake of professionalism but also for fear of rejection.

maybe after it all, john's on his flight back home and realizes in the whirlwind of everything, he never got gale's number (has a moment of 'why would i need it? this was just a gig' lol okay yearner). john's not even sure at that point what/how he's feeling about gale, the conflicting emotions of feeling attraction to him while in borderline drag doing nothing to help the confusion, especially because he can't excuse the attraction as just that when he was feeling things during rehearsal in casual clothes too.

he knows he could easily ask his manager to reach out to gale's manager for his number, but then he gets in his head convincing himself that if gale had wanted to talk further, surely he would've asked for john's number, since gale has way more reason to be selective with his own with his status.

he doesn't realize that on the other end of things, gale's realizing he also never got john's number, only he's talking himself out of reaching out because he doesn't want to read into john's friendliness as something flirtatious when as far as he knows, john is straight, and this was likely just a job for john, as well as they seemed to get along.

cue miscommunication when one of them actually works up the courage to dm the other on instagram since they're mutuals– either john dms gale something simple, a 'thanks again for the opportunity', and because gale is never on his socials and gale's team doesn't check messages much, it's weeks before anyone clocks john's message, during which john becomes sure he's nothing more than a coworker to gale, which he understands but is sad about. or, gale dms john, but from a private account with an innocuous username that he has just for friends and family, and john never even opens it because the lack of profile picture and generic user blends in with all the other message requests he gets a day.

they only end up reconnecting when the music video actually drops, because obviously it breaks the internet, and john happens to be doing promo interviews and radio shows at the time for his band's new album and tour, so an interviewer of course asks him what the experience was like working on a set like that and working with gale. john gives a glowing review, goes out of his way to praise gale– "the nicest guy you'll ever meet, and the craziest work ethic i've ever witnessed firsthand in hollywood."

when the interviewer asks if john would ever consider working with him again, y'know, the classic question an interviewer has to ask so they can drum up clicks with a 'john egan hints at possible future project with gale cleven!' title, john lays it on thick the way he always does with a wink at the camera and a "he can call me up anytime," but then adds a serious "no, really, i would love to work with him again, he was great."

predictably, the people who are already losing their shit over the music video and making edits and fan theories about the two of them go even crazier, spam–tagging gale and his team in the comments of this interview post, which leads to it eventually making its way to gale, and gale then realizes that john hasn't been uninterested; he must've just not seen his message since surely he would've replied if he had (marge looks at him with so much disappointment when gale mentions his attempt to reach out– "gale, no one with that kind of following is going through dm requests from faceless, private instagram pages, you of all people should know this").

gale hasn't told marge about his possible feelings, but marge isn't dumb; she didn't stand on set for nearly 24 hours with her eagle–eyes and not notice the way gale had been looking at john. to anyone else, it might've just seemed like he was leaning into his persona, but marge has known gale for a long time, and she could tell it wasn't all him playing it up for the cameras.

so marge puts her manager–brain and best friend–brain together and decides that with all the hype surrounding the new song and video, the two of them being seen together in public and making a few posts together would be a great boost for both of them. but she knows gale will never go for it if she voices this to him, because he'd see it as using john for popularity; she reasons that if he doesn't know, it can't be using. so she reaches out to john's manager and figures out when they'll both be back in the same city, and relays her plan as if it's just business, asking for john's manager to let john know that gale will be in town the next week if he wants to set something up, and she gives the manager gale's number for john to contact.

when gale wakes up one morning to a 'hi, this is john! my manager passed on your number to me, hope that's okay. i was told you're in town next week? :)' and then 'egan. btw. lots of johns out there.' and then 'the music video guy.' (john, absolutely panicking on his end, worrying that gale might not even remember his name, not knowing gale's been stalking his socials and confusion–pining just as much as john has been doing the same.)

and then more miscommunication after they arrange to hang out, because john assumes this is just for publicity based on what his manager told him, and he understands, as much as he wishes they're hanging out properly. but gale assumes this is a genuine hangout, because john never says otherwise, until the end of the evening, when gale has to leave for a dinner event and john says "we better take those pics for the 'gram before we say goodbye, or the big guns'll have a fit."

and either gale masks his surprise and then disappointment and goes along with it, thinking maybe he missed a memo or misread things, and this conflict and miscommunication is dragged out even longer, or gale doesn't hide his confusion in time, and john is then equally confused, says "your manager didn't...?" and gale says "sorry, i didn't know; i guess i misread your texts," feeling stupid that he's been thinking the hangout is anything other than a pr stunt. and then there's the awkward "no! no– well, yeah, i was told that this was to promote the video, so i thought– i mean, i would've liked to hang anyway, i just didn't think you wanted to?" from john.

gale is slowly connecting the dots in his head and he's so embarrassed, but also relieved that he hasn't misread things and made a fool of himself. john looks on the verge jumping out of his skin as gale sits quietly, so gale puts him out of his misery, smiles and pushes his irritation about the incident down and says "i do want to, john. i think marge– it doesn't matter. it was a miscommunication, i guess." and all the tension evaporates out of john's body, and he lets out a laugh, and a "oh, thank god. fuck. i was about to walk into the street," and gale lets himself relax too, scoffing at john.

so they decide to have a redo the next week, since they both do feel obligated to take their stupid pictures now to please their teams (and the internet), and thus a tentative friendship is born, the two of them dancing around each other and around feelings because everything is confusing as is, let alone with the way their careers affect every aspect of their lives. so much slowburn, lots of john trying to figure his attraction out and gale keeping his walls up because the thought of literally becoming the person he's singing about in his music video is laughable, he doesn't wanna be strung around or used as an experiment for john.

and john respects this unspoken boundary and also appreciates that they can get to know each other as friends while he tries to stop freaking out every time he pictures him and gale doing less than platonic things. probably a whole lot of chaos on john's end with the absolute tornado that he is, ie: '4am 'am i gay' quizzes taken in the dark of his bunk on a tour bus, asking an openly queer friend from his band if his feelings toward gale are normal, rumours started by a fan that they saw john in a gay club after a show, etc.

because john doesn't do anything halfway– he's ready to literally go out and kiss men and explore his newfound feelings, not just to prove himself to gale, but to figure himself out, because he's terrified of hurting gale since john doesn't have the best track record with relationships. overthinks the shit out of everything and doesn't realize it's not that deep, that liking gale doesn't mean he's suddenly attracted to all men, that all gale wants is for john to be confident in himself and his feelings for him before pursuing anything.

there's a lot of back and forth and messiness and emotions stacked on top of their already crazy hectic schedules and lives, the theorizing and prying from fans and paparazzi, caution from management, but when they eventually have their point of no return moment and cross that line from friends to more, the chemistry is so intense that both of them feel stupid for dragging things out for so long.

when the initial new relationship shyness wears off, the sex is also insane, all the exploration and playfulness (and inevitability of the whole feminization thing coming back into play since that's what starts everything in the first place lol). they're barely able to keep their hands off each other, almost always spending the night at each other's places, stealing as much time as they can to make up for the time apart when there are tours or other events separating them.

they try to keep things private for a while, but with how active john is online, he slips up a good few times– tiktoks where a hat or something of gale's is accidentally left in the background, story posts where john's wearing one of gale's hoodies unthinkingly, mirror selfies where there's a mystery hand or leg in the background. the internet is torn, some convinced it's coincidence, some certain it's all a pr stunt to get people talking, some adamant that they're in a secret relationship. gale's never upset about it; they both just know how much things will change if they go public.

months are spent sneaking around, rarely going on public dates, the odd paparazzi shots still leaking out until it finally gets to the point that there's no point hiding things anymore, it's obvious that they're not just friends. they never actually announce it or make some relationship launch post; they just stop caring, and it's freeing and neither of them expect to be so affected by being able to publicly show affection for each other, but it's such a sweet thing and makes things feel so much more real.

john goes to gale's sold out arena shows and stares up at him in awe and can't believe that gale chooses him every day, and gale goes to john's band's high energy festival sets and watches his golden boy light up with joy every time he glances at him side stage and can't believe john chooses him too.

:-)

lol this post was meant to just be the two lines above the cut but then i got to thinking about origin stories and whoops new au drabble because i'm a master at getting carried away!!

#thx for coming to my ted talk jesus christ sorry #buckbucky #johnslittlespoon aus #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon writes #4k words FUCK. i started writing this at noon. 9hrs ago. it should've taken an hr and been 1k but i spent the day bouncing btwn 3 wips oops #i will always be a troye–gay at heart clearly. growing up watching him and discovering i was queer at the same time he did? formative lol.#anyway. kinda wanna draw/write this. can't stop picturing how they'd look and how fun the dynamic/slowburn would be #all i did was picture them in the mv idek how this happened (me every time i post a drabble. yet i mean it every time irdk)#i could've written another 4k words ab the sex alone lbr but i need to actually stop jumping btwn docs and Write <3 sry #i tried to proofread and then got bored LOL my bad #i shant even name this au i already know i won't have time to write it rn with both the fics i have going

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rambleonwaywardson · 3 months ago

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Olympics AU: I would love to see Bucky talking about his relationship and his uncertainties with other people, could be Curt but you could also get quite creative with it. He could even talk to Whiskey! An outsider POV would also be a lot of fun in this AU! 💖

I love this ask, thank you so much anon. I actually wrote two separate snippets about this, both very big on the "uncertainties" part of it. One with Curt (which got a bit long) and one with Whiskey, so I'll put them both here 😊❤

Whiskey (takes place after Morning After/Dressage):

“You can just stay here,” Gale says, motioning vaguely to Bucky, Whiskey, and the stall around them. “I’ve just gotta talk to Chick for a minute, I’ll be right back.”

Bucky smiles and tells him to go. Gale asks if he’s sure he’ll be alright in here alone with the horse. “Yes, Buck,” Bucky laughs. “We’re best buds now.” He scratches Whiskey behind the ear and she leans into it, as if to prove the point.

Gale lets a sweet little smile slip, giving Bucky a look that brings only the word 'lovestruck' to mind. It makes Bucky's heart beat faster. Gale nods, though, taps Whiskey on the nose, kisses Bucky on the cheek, and ducks out of the stall.

Bucky shakes his head as Gale walks away and shoots a glance over his shoulder just to double check. Alone with the horse, Bucky tilts his head, looking at this magnificent animal who spooked at her own poop after Gale’s ride and currently has hay all stuck in her forelock after only being in the stall for 20 minutes. She sure is pretty, though.

Bucky strokes her soft neck, scratches her face, runs his hand down her nose as he thinks about Gale. Beautiful, sweet, kind Gale Cleven. Whiskey blows a hot breath and shakes her head before nudging at Bucky's hand for more attention. He obliges. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, pretty girl,” he says quietly.

He glances over his shoulder to make sure he’s still alone before letting out a deep sigh. “He’s such a great guy. You know that. I don’t have a whole lotta experience with good guys. I-”

He laughs mirthlessly, shaking his head at himself. He’s really standing here, unpacking all his baggage onto a horse. But, hey. That’s what Gale does, isn’t it?

“He deserves better than me,” he whispers as he scratches up under the horse’s forelock. “I’ve got too much baggage, Whiskey. Too much shit I’m working through. I’ve never had someone like him in my life…” He takes a deep breath and lets it out real slow. Whiskey rubs her head against his shoulder, and he smiles weakly. “I don’t know how to love someone. I don’t know how to let them love me. I don’t know if love is something I get, you know? It hurts too much.”

His sister. His ex. His shitty dating history. His fear of commitment. His fear of failure. His fear of loss and pain and heartbreak and betrayal and love. His inability to let himself be happy. Something that he never had a single problem with before 2021, but ever since has assaulted him day by day out of absolutely nowhere. It’s all shit his therapist has tried to work him through, but he just can’t seem to believe that he deserves something good like Gale.

“I love him,” he whispers. And he hates that he feels the hint of tears welling up behind his eyes. “But I’m worried that I can’t.”

Curt (takes place during Event Finals Part 1):

“Ow, what the fuck?” Bucky glares at Curt, who just flicked him hard on the side of the head. “What was that for?”

“Stop bein’ an idiot,” Curt tells him.

They’re sitting across from each other in the dining hall the morning before their rings and vault event finals. Bucky had looked longingly at the chocolate muffins, but, hours before a competition, opted instead for eggs and a bowl of fruit. It doesn’t much matter, because he’s hardly touched the food on his plate. Instead, he’s staring at his phone, which is sitting face up on the table. Displayed on the screen is an article about him. Specifically, it’s about him and Gale and the whole saga of John’s messy dating life, including his forced coming out.

“That’s actually not possible. I’m an idiot by trade,” Bucky mutters.

Curt rolls his eyes and grabs Bucky’s phone. He exits out of the article, turns it off, and tucks it beside his own plate of eggs and bacon. “Quit readin’ that shit, it’s no good for you.” He takes an aggressive bite of his eggs, swallows, and points his finger at Bucky. “You need to get your head on straight about Gale.”

Bucky pouts and takes a hesitant bite of a piece of pineapple. “Care to elaborate?”

Curt cocks his head, unamused. “Quit psychin’ yourself out over him! Every single time you catch yourself bein’ happy with him, you get all antsy. He’s literally the perfect guy. You’ll never find anyone better. And for some reason he really likes you. Why can’t you just let yourself be happy?”

Bucky’s pout deepens as he slouches in his chair, playing with the eggs on his plate. Curt wishes he’d fuckin’ eat something. He can’t go into rings finals on an empty stomach, but it seems, short of Curt shoving those eggs down John’s throat, it’s not gonna happen until they address whatever this is.

“You know why,” Bucky mumbles. There’s about a thousand different reasons why.

Curt rubs a hand over his face and takes a sip of orange juice to keep from screaming at his best friend.

“John,” he says. “I know it’s been hard the last few years. I know you’re freaked out ‘cause of your sister. I know you’ve had shitty luck with guys in the past. I know that asshole screwed you over and violated your privacy to the highest fuckin’ extreme, and trust me I hope his life is a living hell for that. But you’ve stumbled upon the jackpot of possible boyfriends. So don’t you think, maybe, you need to just give it a damn shot?“

“You know it’s not that easy,” Bucky says defensively, setting his fork down aggressively before picking it up again with a shake of his head and returning to shoving food around his plate.

And yeah, Curt does know. He’s watched Bucky go through it all. It’s been almost exactly three years and one month since his sister died, and Bucky has never recovered from that loss. Curt knows he’s scared of letting someone into his life, because he’s scared of losing them. He’s scared of heartbreak. He’s scared of getting close to someone. He’s scared of letting them close to him.

Curt was there when Bucky went off the rails. He was there when that shitty ex told the whole world that Bucky’s gay. He was there for the backlash and for the support and for the rollercoaster of figuring out how to work through that exposure. He had to tell his fair share of people to fuck off when they got in John’s face about it or talked shit behind his back.

“I know,” Curt says. “But you have to start somewhere. Don’t you think Gale is worth that?”

Bucky is quiet for a long time. He takes two bites of eggs, and Curt watches every move. Finally, he says, “I… I think I’m scared?” He shifts in his seat, avoiding eye contact as he says it. But hey, that’s a lot of progress right there.

Curt nods, thinking maybe that therapist Bucky’s been talking to since the accident is actually worth something beyond getting him back in the gym. It’s amazing, he thinks, how much the world doesn’t know about John Egan. All they see is the gymnastics golden boy with a winning smile, back for another round after being dragged through the shit. They don’t see this part of him.

“I know,” Curt says.

“I haven’t had a real relationship since I’ve been out. Curt, I don’t… that fuckin’ sucked, man. I can’t deal with that again. I can’t-“

“Do you really think Gale is the kinda guy to hurt you like that?”

“No,” Bucky admits. No doubt about it. Because Gale isn’t that kind of guy. At all.

“And you can’t be forced out of the closet twice,” Curt points out. “So isn’t it time to let that work in your favor? Let yourself have a real relationship, without carin’ about anyone else?”

Bucky shrugs uncomfortably and his voice gets all quiet. “I don’t know how.”

Curt laughs and rolls his eyes again. “You just do, John. You’re doin’ it already. He makes you happy, you guys are attached at the hip, you look at him like he hung the goddamn moon. And he looks at you the same fuckin' way. Just stop bein’ stupid about it.”

He hesitates over his next words, unsure if they’d be a step too far right now. When Bucky still has a day of competition left. But he takes a breath, and he says it anyway. “She would tell you the same thing.”

Bucky nods and hides his face in his hands. “I know.”

“She’d want you to be happy,” Curt adds, pushing on. “It would kill her if she knew you were bein’ stupid cause of her.”

Bucky nods and grips his hair between his fingers, clenching his jaw. He squeezes his eyes shut. Curt sighs and reaches a hand across the table to lay on Bucky’s bicep. “She’d want you to find someone to love. That loves you. She’d want Gale for you. I know it.”

“I miss her,” Bucky says quietly.

“I know,” Curt says again. “I know.”

It takes a few minutes to recover, but Bucky finally pops a grape into his mouth. Then a strawberry. Then he gets back to work on his eggs, slowly, slowly. He looks up at Curt, works his jaw nervously. “You went to school with Gale, right?”

Curt nods. He didn’t know Gale real well, but they had classes together. They talked here and there. Hung out at a party or two when Marge would drag Gale out a few times a year.

“Has he always been like this?” Bucky asks.

“What?” Curt quirks an eyebrow up and smirks. “Hot? Sweet? Funny? Smart? Humble? All around lovely?”

Bucky laughs a little and nods. “Perfect, yeah.”

“Yep,” Curt says. “He has.“ And he’s telling the truth. That’s just quintessentially Gale Cleven.

Bucky shakes his head and swallows another bite of egg. Curt breathes a quiet sigh of relief. But then Bucky gets all quiet again. “I’ve never dated anyone who… just… I’ve never…”

Curt sighs. “Never dated anyone who treated you well.” God knows that’s true. Of all the guys that Curt has seen Bucky date, not a single one has ever seemed to truly care about him in any meaningful way. They’ve all been manipulative or noncommittal, just in it to say they had sex with John Egan. Just in it to say they could claim John Egan. Just in it for his body, for his face, for his name. Like he’s some carnival prize. Not a single one has ever treated him like the actually amazing guy he is.

Bucky nods and frowns, shrugs sadly. “Maybe I don’t deserve someone like that.”

Curt won’t stand for that. Because it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “John, look at me.”

Bucky flicks his eyes up, and Curt holds his gaze.

“Usually I’d be an ass and say you’re right cause that’s how we work. But I’m gonna tell you this ‘cause I care about you.” He sets down his fork, reaches a hand out again to poke Bucky’s arm. “You deserve the world, man. You deserve every good thing comin’ your way. And it’s not because you’ve been through hell. It’s ‘cause you’re a great guy. You’ve worked hard. You deserve it all, okay? You deserve someone like Gale Cleven who will love you and make you happy and take care of ya. Hear me?”

Bucky shrugs again, and Curt flicks him on the side of the head. Again. Bucky glares at him. It’s not a lesson Curt expects him to learn right here and now. It’ll take an awful long time, if Bucky ever learns it all. But Curt can at least play his part by telling him, in no uncertain terms, that it’s true.

“Stop bein’ stupid,” he adds. “If you don’t hold onto this guy with all you’ve got, it’ll be the biggest mistake of your life.”

#clegan olympics au #asks #some Bucky introspection #he struggles #thanks for the ask!#olympics au drabble #clegan drabble

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420technoblazeit · 6 months ago

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ive been fuckign. wasting a spell slot so that gale has the find companion spell and can summon a little kitty cat and i keep telling myself it's bc it can distract npcs so i can get away with crime but it's deffo not at this point. i just like having a cat. also we juts found out that gale's ex wants him to blow himself up i feel like i gotta give him SOMETHING good for once yk

#the pig squeals #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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smt4flynn · 1 year ago

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embiggen, embolden

Rating: R18/Explicit (Minors DNI)

Notes: This is a story about misusing the enlarge spell to do some shenanigans with Astarion. I wrote this in the coffee shop where I constantly kept oscillating between being cold and EXTREMELY cold, so I lost steam a little bit, but I wanted to finish it!

On AO3 this is apparently 4K wordcount. Also, you can find this on ao3 under the same name, by ao3 user Voidromeda! =)

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This isn’t the first time you cast Enlarge on Astarion – during combat, of course, just to help boost his combat prowess even further (and it does terrify you how strong he quickly becomes, helped by the fact that he finally lets Lae’zel and Karlach be his coaches) – but you normally recall it fading away after some time. You do not recall it ever backfiring and making him even bigger, to the point that he is literally towering over all of you, and looking confused as he is.

“I have looked everything over,” Gale says after a while, stood in front of a sitting, cross-legged Astarion who is now almost thrice everyone’s size, his hands are clasped in front of him and he seems to be smiling too wide, “and my conclusion is this: assuming if, and if, you did all of the incantations correctly and used the proper gesticulations, and given that I was there to hear you do the correct chant, the somatic and verbal components should not be the issue at hand here. The only thing I can assume is that the materials used were at fault somehow, or that the weave decided today, of all days, to be a right petty bastard and Mystra wished to have a lark at your expense.”

Astarion huffs out in annoyance, his breath ruffling Gale’s hair, and he turns around to look at him with his own momentary irritation . Astarion throws his hands up in faux surrender. “So, to boil it all down for us little peoples,” his voice practically drips venom, “you have no clue why this happened and, for all you know, you have no clue when I am going to turn back.”

“Correct!” and you have to hold back a laugh at the fact that Gale seems to be enjoying Astarion’s mounting irritation a little too much.

“I am big enough to eat you.” he says.

“But you and I know you won’t do that, unless you want a netherese bomb in your body! And I don’t think you want to figure out how to vomit me out to resurrect me!”

“Or how to shit you out.” Astarion grumbles, but he is too big for it to be quiet, and Karlach snorts particularly loudly at that. Lae’zel looks disgruntled, as she always does, and she looks between you, Gale, and Astarion before letting out an annoyed declaration in Gith and decides to leave them at that.

Shadowheart eyes the (rather) giant vampire, then turns to Karlach as she says, “you know, now that he’s bigger than you, he could probably carry you around and withstand your engine.”

“OH. YOU’RE RIGHT.” Karlach says a little too loudly. A glare from Astarion has her hushing herself, “oh, you’re right!” she repeats, and Astarion pointedly pokes her away with an index when Karlach tries to climb up on top of him. He hisses a little, though it isn’t as bad of a response as the rest of you had to touching Karlach. That has her eyes alight with excitement, much to Astarion’s chagrin. “But, he’d eventually get burnt up, yeah? Probably ain’t a reason to bother ‘im, he already looks like he’s about to blow and he’s not the one with the engine. Dammon said, anyway, that we just gotta find one last iron.”

“You won’t be able to ride around on his back.” Shadowheart says with an arch of her eyebrow. “Unless, of course, you’d like to go find one right now so we can rush on back to Dammon and try out your newfound touch on Astarion.”

“Teeeeeempting, tempting, but I don’t think we should just rush ‘round for a bit, yeah? It’s so tempting though! Ugh! I hate making good decisions!”

She gives him a good-nature grin and Astarion puffs air her way, which happens to also ruffle your and Shadowheart’s hairs. Despite him not needing to really eat (“of course I can still taste food,” he says to you after you give him a piece of chocolate cake that you particularly really like, “it’s just dulled, and not at all nutritious for me, it’s not even a luxury . Your blood is like heaven on my tongue. Why would I want anything else? ”), his breath smells like some sort of rosy ale mixed with a vanilla pastry. It isn’t that bad, though it still is a bit unpleasant.

“And what of you, Halsin? What do you make of this?” Gale spins on his heel to point over to the druid who arches an eyebrow up at Astarion, just as puzzled as everyone else is that the vampire is now... large. Quite, quite large.

“Though wizards and sorcerers oft pride themselves on their honed control over the weave, be it granted, earned, or both,” Halsin says pleasantly, as though he is talking about the weather and naught else, “it is not so strange that even the most skilled of wizards and the most gifted of sorcerers, or others should they have a grasp of it, shall have their mind wander and for the spell’s consistency to slip. One’s tools can only be as consistent as one’s body and mind.”

“So you think I got distracted, and that led to the spell backfiring?” you question. You aren’t really offended by it; the last combat encounter you have, where this mistake occurs, is a hectic one, with reanimated corpses reaching out to grasp at you and try to drag you under. “That makes sense.” and Halsin nods thoughtfully your way. “So the best thing to do is to just wait?”

“Yes.” Halsin gives you a smile and you smile awkwardly back.

Gale takes this as his cue to leave, citing having found some new books that he would like to look through while they wait for Astarion’s condition to fix itself, and Karlach gets herded away by Shadowheart so that they can do something else. Wyll, who has been absent for most of this, suggests to the former two and to Lae’zel to go patrolling around the Shadow-Cursed lands, and the three women jump at the opportunity to leave.

When you look over, Gale disappears into somewhere and you think it best not to ask. Halsin, seeing that people seem to be leaving to do their own activities, excuses himself to go and look further into the Shadow-Cursed lands, to try and see if he can find anything now that he is more experienced. It is just you and Astarion now, the vampire staring at you with some mixture of interest and mischief.

“So!” Astarion clicks his tongue. You look at him a bit warily. He must be a bit angry at you, considering that you’re the reason as to why this happens, though you can’t see it anywhere on his face. That’s even worse, your mind supplies, because Astarion – for all everyone makes fun of him for being extremely obvious – can also be frightfully subtle when he wants to be. When he puts the effort in, you have seen him speak sweet little lies to some of the still sentient shades, encouraging them to curl further to Shadowheart before they melt painfully under her cast of daylight.

You think he does not try on the living because some form of guilt keeps him at bay. What happens when that bit of guilt is gone, you wonder?

“So.” you say when he stays quiet. Astarion smirks at your uncertainty.

When he comes to a stand, properly, you find yourself just a little below his crotch – Karlach, earlier, points and bellows loudly that she is ‘almost dick-height! Just a little above it, actually, that’s fucking hysterical!’ which is why Astarion makes sure to stay sitting for a good while. You, however, stand so close to crotch height it is mortifying. You have to take a step back and crane your neck up, almost painfully so, to be able to look at him.

It shocks you when he simply scoops you up into his arm, lifting you up on one elbow, and you are held up to his face rather easily. He gives you a cheeky grin. “Admittedly, I was miffed with you at first; it really is hard to be so,” he clicks his tongue, “stealthy when you’re a huge brute. But I think I’m beginning to see the upsides!”

“The upsides.” you say flatly. He chuckles, the sound seemingly louder because of his size, and he uses one hand to carefully cradle your head and bring you close for an awkward kiss. Your lips are so small in comparison to his, and it embarrasses you a little how tiny you feel. “Astarion,” you start, pushing his face back a bit, and you give him a half-hearted glare, “can you – can you not have desires right now when you’re way too big for me?”

“But darling,” and he drags it out just to annoy you, snickering at the little tick in your brow, “when will we ever get an opportunity like this again, hm? Us all alone, no one to bother us, especially when these lands are cursed as they are. Don’t you want to see how big I’ve gotten down there? I’m curious to see it myself.”

You want to say that you are a bit more forceful when you say no.

Astarion carries you away from the camp, blessed as you both are by Isobel’s magics, though you have a feeling that Selûne will more than likely disapprove of how Astarion is taking advantage of your weak protections. You aren’t really... isolated, given that Astarion is still so large and attracting attention, but nothing really wants to approach him when he is so, so large. Undressing you is extremely easy for him, and you find yourself being cradled gently by him. His eyes are wide, taking you apart, and the hunger on his face is even more unavoidable because of his size. His fingers, which have always been larger than yours, positively dwarf your legs when he helps hold you up in the air.

Holding you up like this, with his hands trying to cradle you while his thumbs attempt to spread your legs, you feel like a bug under intense scrutiny. He exhales out through his nose, instinctively despite the vestigial nature of it all, and you shudder from the way his breath washes over you. He leans closer to you, crowding you, and his large lips press a dainty kiss against your folds. You grab at one of his thumbs when it comes to rest on your belly, his tongue rolling out to drag between your soft folds.

You whimper; it is a lot of sensation at once, rubbing against your labia all at once, even when he tries to thin it, narrow it to press it against your hole. He pushes you closer lips completely overtaking your vulva, large tongue lapping mindlessly between your folds, and you moan loudly from the sensation. He hums approvingly, the vibrations all too much at once, head tilting to the side to mouth at your thigh.

“Do you trust me for a moment, darling?” Astarion says.

“For more than a moment.” you say, your voice a bit rough from your moaning, and Astarion grins ever so sweetly at you before his expression becomes thoughtful.

“I’m going to put you further into my mouth,” he warns, “nothing will happen to you. You’ll be fine. Trust me.” and you do, of course. You nod at him when he looks at you, verbalise it next when his expression grows sharp, and his tongue rolls out once more to give you a distracting, flat, broad lick against your swollen vulva.

His mouth opens over your vagina again, his tongue dragging from your swollen, emerging clit down to your puckered hole. He laps against you, quick, skilled flicks of his tongue even with his larger muscle, and you writhe and whine loudly. He pulls back for a moment, looking at you critically, before his mouth falls open and you try not to kick at him when his lips wrap around your feet, up until your ankles. He lets you slip further into his mouth – and it is so hot and wet inside, lips wrapped around half of your body, and your hands come to rest above his upper lip when he finally stops.

Wildness flashes briefly in his eyes before he squeezes them shut and opens them to look at you carefully. His tongue slathers his saliva against your legs, briefly exploratory, tasting your skin in a way that makes you shiver from the discomfort and odd excitement of being at his mercy in an entirely different way. The muscle flattens up against your vulva once more, pressing between your folds, swirling his tongue around before going back to tasting your legs, drenching you in his saliva.

Your hips jump up, trying to move in tandem with his tongue when he goes back to licking you mercilessly, the tip of his tongue swirling around your engorged clit. It lays flat, swirling and grinding against your clit, flicking it up and down, and you shake, shiver. You press your hands against his skin, unable to move your body much because of it trapped in his mouth.

It is when you are able to cum in his mouth, your whines and moans getting louder, shamefully so, that Astarion pulls you out of his mouth, murmurs a prestidigitation under his breath to wipe the saliva away, and you shiver at how suddenly cold you feel. He grins lopsidedly down at you. “See? It wasn’t that bad now, was it, darling?” and he presses a sloppy kiss between your legs, against your sensitive vagina, and you shiver.

He settles you down onto his knee, stopping you when you try to grind against him, and he clicks his tongue. You stiffen up, grasping at his leather trousers, bunching it up in your pathetically small hands. He works to unfasten his strings, pausing before he has to set you aside so he can undress himself. You can only watch as his body is revealed to you – blouse peeled off of his body, trousers shoved down and away, and embroidered underwear thrown aside to reveal his horrifically large erection.

It stands painfully erect before you, dripping copiously at its enlarged tip, and Astarion lifts you up again to sit on his abdomen. He leans back, his cock slapping against your back when you sit up, spreading his pre over you, and it feels like you are being marked by some sort of feral beast. Astarion chuckles at the look on your face, a fond expression overtaking him for a moment.

“You always were such a little thing.” he murmurs (he likes how small you are, how he can cage you in his arms and hold you, that you are the smallest out of them all and it makes him want to do terrible things to you while holding you in his arms), “but this is ever sweeter. Do you think you can take me?”

Looking behind yourself, to his hard, large erection that throbs and oozes more pre-cum from your gaze, then looking down at your vulva that feels like it will break in half, you know you can’t. “I will most definitely try.” is what you say instead, because you always want to please him, you know you do.

He helps you move up, his slender fingers wrapping around his pale, pretty penis; not a single hair anywhere, wonderfully thick and perfectly long, spreading you nicely before and now threatening to rip you in half, and he gives himself a few strokes just for some form of relief. You spread your legs, leaning back and his cock slaps against your back when he lets go so that he can instead press his fingers against your small hole.

One finger is a pleasant stretch. It sinks into you readily, making you huff and moan loudly from the sensation; you whimper with a bit of fear when a second finger presses against your wonderfully stuffed hole, his fingernail catching a bit at your rim before he presses it incessantly in. It takes some trying, your tongue rolling out from your panting; you struggle, muscles tensing and relaxing in short little bursts before you finally let that second finger in, and your eyes roll up into your head from the intense stretch.

It sinks in until the second knuckle, your mouth open with endless, whiny moans; it’s so much, forcing your stuffed vagina to accept even more in, and you wail when both fingers are pressed deep inside of you. His large thumb presses down on your sensitive clit and you make a strangled noise, hips jumping forward and you let out a soft squeak at the way his fingers feel inside of you.

“Good, good, you’re doing so good,” he murmurs, sick excitement painting his face and staining his voice as you fuck yourself on his large fingers. You pulse and flutter around his fingers, a shriek pushed out of you when he drags his fingers out just to thrust them mercilessly back in. You are most definitely going to gape the moment his fingers are done with you and Astarion seems to come to the same realisation with how roughly he keeps thrusting them in and out of you.

His cock twitches against you; his eyes are wild, staring down at your poor little hole that is going red from his attentions, stretched wide around his two fingers. When he teases a third one in, you babble incoherently – “I can’t take another!” you cry out and Astarion hushes you.

“You can darling, you can, come on,” he encourages, the third finger feeling almost impossibly too much, yet he still presses it against your fluttering, full hole. You don’t even know how he pushes it in – perhaps when he pulls the two fingers out and introduces the third amidst the soaked two, and it is shameful how much pre you yourself are dripping all over him. You don’t even get a second to register what is happening before he slams three fingers in and you are orgasming violently from the intense, almost-painful stretch.

Squirting copiously, you weep and beg when he keeps his thrusts going, extending your orgasm even as your cum begins puddling on his stomach, and it is only when you can cum no more and your voice is just pathetic whimpering that he pulls his soaked fingers out. His face is utterly wild, making him look almost feral, bestial, and he spreads your folds open further to stare at your gaped open hole.

“That looks like it could take me.” he says with strained breath, voice rough and a low growl, and he grabs you by the hips while you still feel insensate and boneless from your rough orgasm. The head of his cock feels almost comically large as he presses you against it, your hole spasming wildly, clenching up to drip more onto his erection and almost as if dreading how empty it is, before it relaxes open again and Astarion keens loudly.

He pushes you down, your hands flailing a bit before resting on his abdomen when he pushes down enough for it. He isn’t even halfway inside of you before you feel so stuffed, filled up with so much of his penis that you are surprised you haven’t torn completely open; perhaps it is a good thing he introduced the third finger, even though he no doubt adds it in because of the fact that he is lost in the sensation, in the moment. Your claws drag at his belly, sliding against your own cum and he giggles, your own much breathier than his own, because it is ridiculous how much he made you cum.

“You’re so – so – so incorrigible,” you slur out a little, your hole unable to even clench down on his fat erection, and his hands push down on your hips while you try to comply with him. It’s so much – he’s too much as he is right now, hands slipping on his stomach and you arch your back, thighs tensing up from the effort of trying to sink further, further down.

His fingers come to rest on your abdomen, his voice a bit awed as he says, “your belly’s bulging with me. You can’t take me.” but that doesn’t stop him; you look down and see he is right, his shape is poking through, bulging you obscenely with his erection. You feel like you are being hollowed out by him, and it doesn’t help when you aren’t even down all the way and Astarion is grabbing onto you and taking over.

All of your movement is abruptly taken away and controlled entirely by him. You scream so loudly that you are sure even the hunting team, so far away, can hear you; your tongue slips out again, your right hand slipping on his stomach before messily coming to your own clit to stroke and rub it as Astarion begins fucking you.

Both of you are just grunting, groaning animals, him growling exactly like one, and his eyes are wide and feral, focused on how your poor vagina can’t take all of him with how big he is. He babbles incomprehensibly at you, as if trying to praise you, though absolutely nothing he says makes sense, and you can’t help but laugh before it turns into a high-pitched whine.

“Please, cum for me, cum, let me see you cum around me,” Astarion says, the first coherent thing to slip out of his wet lips and his eyes shine bright now with love, and it is that begging, the way he looks at you, that sets you off again. Your orgasm isn’t as violent as the first time, though it still gets to you that you squirt again – far less copiously this time, but still enough to add to the mess already cooling on him, and he coos lovingly at you.

With your legs now shaky, body exhausted by your orgasm, he slows down, his thrusts lazy and leisurely before he digs his feet into the darkened lands with his hands dripping to claw at the earth before he cums deep inside of you. The amount inside makes you yelp – your belly rounds out with his spend and it ends up being too much to stay inside, squirting around him as it starts to escape, and he pulls out to let the rest of it land on your vulva, inner thighs, and even on your stomach.

You can’t clench your hole shut to stop his spend from just dripping out of you, forced into a rather big gape, and you just hum when he settles you down beside him and lets you try and catch your breath.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Astarion begins, and you murmur into his arm that he lets you use as a pillow, “I am aware it was… abrupt, and perhaps I may have pushed you too far, but you were a good sport about it.”

You nuzzle into his elbow. “I’m more glad that you wanted to do this with me,” you say, voice so sleepy, mind more than hazy, “I want you to feel safe to explore whatever you want.” and you don’t get to see his loving, fond gaze before you fall asleep, your body pushed beyond belief.

[When the two of you go back to the camp, way later when his condition seems to have finally faded, you are utterly shamefaced because you both look dishevelled and like you’ve been up to no good, though Astarion seems to be in very bright spirits about it. You try not to maul him violently when he ‘innocuously’ asks Gale if there is any way to adjust one’s size when enlarged. Karlach’s hyena like laughter at your embarrassment makes you wish you could just die.

You hate this vampling so very, very much.]

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #andro fics #fics: bg3

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trashbag-baby666 · 6 months ago

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As requested by @ghoaps more mota hs au amusement park! Enjoy this little Drabble :3

MOTA Masterlist!

John came out of the bathroom, his flip flops slapping against the concrete. His Nicki Minaj tote bag in hand and his towel thrown over his shoulder. “You bitch!” John stopped in his tracks in front of him, his jaw hitting the floor.

“What?”

He motioned to Gales swim trunks and swim shirt that matched his own. “You stole my outfit!”

“John, you bought us these.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Buck? But one of us is gonna have to change.” John put his hands on his hips popping one out. Gale shook his head with a smile, reaching into his backpack for the sunscreen.

“You gotta reapply your sunscreen.”

“No!” John pouted, “I’m just gonna get in the water, what does it matter?”

“You not getting skin cancer matters.” Gale caught the man child’s arm, squirting out the white substance onto his arm. Virtually, he now left John with little to no choices but to just let him reapply.

“I’m not even burning,” John held his arms out while the other lathered him in sunscreen.

“Because I held you down and put sunscreen on you.” Getting John to yap through the process wasn’t anything new for him, “You’ll be thanking me tomorrow when your shoulders aren’t red and pealing this time.”

“Don’t count on it.” John buzzed his lips waving at Croz like some blow up tube guy outside a car wash.

“Nice trunks, Buck.” Croz smirked pointing out their matching dinosaur swim trunks.

“Thank you, John got them for me. Said we needed to match.” Gale looked at the swim shirt with the matching colorful dinosaurs on the front.

“You guys do look really cute.” Croz smiled grabbing the sunscreen off the table. That made. Gale feel a little less sillier, even if John did pick them out.

“Thank you, at least someone agrees with me.” John crossed his arms popping his hip out all sassy, again.

“I never said that we didn’t look cute.” Gale crossed his arms staring him down, peaking over his sunglasses. The other let that silly, crooked smile fall back onto his face. Wrapping his long arms around him, John peppered Gales face in kisses.

#thanks for the request!#what’s waited till tomorrow starts tonight au #masters of the air #mota #mota headcanons #clegan #john egan #gale cleven #bucky egan #buck cleven #harry crosby #modern au #mota hs au

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alicelufenia · 5 months ago

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Another week, another update on the Chosen of Eilistraee playthrough

We sneak through Grymforge picking off the wandering guards and the scrying eye (which is stupidly resistant to damage in tactiction, but vulnerable to thunder so Gale blows it up with a chromatic orb)

After all the stragglers are dealt with, we try to take some of the duergar in the main room with Nere, but aggroing them, even by drawing them away, aggros the rest of them. We manage to take out one, and then run away, with plans to long rest to reset their aggro and be fresh for the big battle (no negotiating with slavers this run)

Also backed off on my rule of using no gameplay mods and added UA6 Invoke Duplicity, 5E Mirror Image, and UA8 Healing Buffs, to make Shadowheart slightly more viable as a Trickery cleric. I gotta tell you, UA6 Invoke Duplicity ROCKS! It's basically a misty step that leaves a duplicate that you can opt to cast spells from, including melee ones if they're next to enemies. Moving it is a bit clunky, as it uses Tabletop rules for moving it on your turn with a bonus action, but the fact that Shadowheart can just rush into the midst of it, Fear everyone, then bonus action fuck off to a hidden corner, where she can cast spells with impunity from the duplicate (and enemies will occasionally try to attack it, but favors easier targets usually). The fact it now only grants advantage to the caster if she's next to it and the enemy isn't that big a deal, it's now so much more fun to use! Zero regrets with this one.

Dream Visitor is back, explaining how the True Souls are controlled. Finally the seed is planted that they may yet be saved, though visitor wants her to try to work with them by using the tadpole powers, which Tav doesn't wanna do.

Tavierra now has dual wield. The start of her main playstyle is coming together (just two more pieces needed to bring it online) For now she wields a rapier in the off hand, Phalar Aluve in the main. Which gives her pseudo extra attack at Character Level 5, not bad for an early multiclass.

Time to prepare everyone for the fight.

Karlach you're not yourself before you've had your medicine.

MUCH better! (we also throw in our 2nd to last soul coin, it's gonna be a long day)

Sadly I have no screenshots of the battle but, let's just say do you know what's better than a Hunger of Hadar cast on all the enemies grouped up by a Minor Illusion, from hiding, making everyone trapped in the HoH surprised for a round? Not much. We easily dispatched the duergar from a high point, Karlach happily chucking spears, javelins, chairs, at everyone while Wyll knocked them back into HoH with Eldritch Blasts. Did you know Warlock is a really good class?

The gnomes are understandably happy with this result (I very nearly got Laridda here caught in the Hunger of Hadar, but luckily she was just out of it, and all the duergar were too busy focusing on us and getting out of the pain zone to care about the gnomes.

Time to break Nere out with the Runepowder Vial. Now, here I tried two paths, and while one is arguably more interesting, I went with the one with the best in-game reward. However:

With the Duergar defeated, we have a way to negotiate with Nere, even influencing him to let the slaves free, and he's none the wiser.

He tells us about his mission to find an alternate route to Moonrise, but the cavein lead to failure. We tell him he can inform the General himself, but he's stuck here too with his moonlantern broken. So he gives us a spider lyre which we can use via the mountainpass route. So this is an alternative to working with Minthara that still lets you take the super shortcut to Moonrise at the start of Act 2.

More importantly, now that we've had him talking for some time, he's noticed something:

Damn wish it worked this fast with Minthara. We explain how the Absolute is a front for mind flayers, and that we're protected. Just spill the beans right away.

So here's where we diverge in how we can deal with Nere. We can either goad him to fight, or convince him that he should leave the Absolute. That latter option is the interesting part. This is basically doing what we do with Minthara but way earlier and easier. Which is probably due to Nere being not as motivated to stay with a religion—unlike Minthara who has an EXTREMELY devout personality.

Convincing him to leave nets us his gratitude, and a reward of... a +1 Dagger. An insult, really. This makes you miss out on his rapier which is decent at this level, and the BEST GENERAL BOOTS IN THE GAME. And this is before we've even MET the Myconids, so we've no motivation to take his head right now. It wouldn't be so bad if he did show up later like Minthara did, but nope, this is the last we see of "Twat Soul" Nere. Had he showed up later and gave his boots as a reward, this would probably be the best outcome.

All that being said, he DID kinda murder one of the gnomes in cold blood after being rescued. So I think, after getting threatened by him for our blasphemy, it's fair to say Tav is through trying to save this guy, and is ready to kill him instead, if only to give the one gnome whose sister is killed some closure and justice. She's been Chaotic Neutral for the most part, but she's trending more towards Chaotic Good as this crisis she's in starts to feel more like a pilgrimage on behalf of her goddess.

Tavierra equips the shoes she'll likely use for the rest of the game.

Also, Astarion is interested in the tadpole powers even if Tav isn't. I make sure he gets Luck of the Far Realms and make a mental note to find enough tadpoles to ensure Minthara can get the same later. Guaranteed crits on both of them are godsends.

After dealing with Nere and talking to the gnomes, I head back to the Emerald Grove cause I completely forgot to talk to Zevlor after killing Kagha! He gives me his gloves, which are going on Shadowheart at least until she starts getting the pieces for her future radiating orb build put together.

I also decide to just Item Spawn the ring of protection into my game. My justification is: it's my game and you have no power over me, also I did successfully steal the idol, I just didn't know that NOT accepting the quest from Mol locks you out of the reward, and giving her the idol later doesn't do anything. So lesson learned, but I still want it cause Tactician Mode.

Also got Wyll this absolutely stylish mid-tier armor! The dye is modded, but I think red and gold suits him well.

Next step: deal with the Goblins once and for all. Tav is fresh off failing to get anywhere with Nere, and is considering what other options she has with these True Souls now. She knows that they're not necessarily willingly serving, by virtue of being tadpoled, but that doesn't change the fact they're zealots right now. She'd ask for more guidance, but aside from a few days ago when she first met Minthara, and she was guided to a singing blade, there's been nothing else from Eilistraee, no obvious signs at least. What to do?? (also she really should go find Halsin, he's still locked up lol)

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #drow tav #drow oc #drow #tavierra torval #chosen of eilistraee #<- this will be the tag for this playthrough #true soul nere #queue

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iron-hearts-ablaze · 9 months ago

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@galefcrce liked this Starter Call

"H-Hey Gale..." Karlach approached quietly, spoke softly. She still wasn't entirely sure how she was going to broach the subject. But maybe he needs someone to talk to right now...someone in a similar predicament.

"Look, Tav told me what Elminster said to you, about your orb... I know my opinion won't really matter in the end - it's your choice - but I don't think you should go and blow yourself up for Mystra." Karlach sighed. The very idea of it made her angry, but she took a moment to collect herself. "Having that in your chest, it sucks... I get that more than anyone else here... But we gotta live for ourselves, not anyone else."

She attempted a smile. "Plus, you can't go and die on us, you're the best cook we have!"

#v; ~fury of avernus~#~waterdeeps finest~#~queue~

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waterdeep-weavemoss · 2 months ago

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"Big day, huh, loverboy?"

Astarion startles slightly at his first mate calling out to him from above and looks to find the source of the sound. Karlach smirks down at him from her perch at the ship's wheel... directly above his quarters.

"Gotta say, Lae'zel wasn't too thrilled that you missed your own meeting over that powder her men have been working on. It was all Gale and I could do to keep her from testing it out on your cabin door herself. Then ol' Magic Man and I spent most of dinner debating whether or not to interrupt you two. He didn't want to be uncouth." She grins widely with all the self-satisfaction of a twerp kid catching her big brother sneak a beau out of his bedroom window. "Judging by the state you three just stumbled out of your room in, you didn't really want couth much anyway, did you?"

“Manners and refinement certainly have their place,” Astarion answers, feeling himself fall back into his usual rhythm with Karlach. Something in his chest eases at her wide smile. “But in my chambers? Certainly not.”

Karlach chuckles, relief washing over her as she sees the tension in his jaw and posture release slightly. "You wanna find somewhere a bit more private to talk? Officer's mess might be unoccupied. I'd suggest your quarters, but…" She grimaces. "Ew, no thanks. I've learned far more than my share of details about what you've been up to all night and day from the other side of the walls and ceiling. Don't need to see the scene of the crime for myself."

Astarion lets out a full-chested laugh. "I understand. Shall we retire to your cabin, then?"

"Aye aye, Cap!"

Karlach slides down the bannister to join him, and the pair walk back to Karlach's cabin in the officer's quarters. The tiefling's room is significantly more spartan than those of her male companions. Any areas of the floor that can be seen under the scattered piles of papers, dirty dishes, and discarded clothing are covered by a couple of woven rugs. Her cot's sheets are made neatly with hospital corners, a habit picked up in her years aboard the Styx's Revenge, but a worn knit blanket lies rumpled near the foot. Clive, her beloved stuffed bear, rests on her pillow, looking even more worse for wear than when Astarion last saw him. Karlach plunks down on the cot, smooths out the blanket, and pats the spot beside her, encouraging her friend to sit.

"Alright. First mate hat's off, Mama K hat's on. Come rest a bit. I insist."

The captain smiles, but remains against the door. He’s comfortable with Karlach, but the time — the separation — he once again feels like a stranger here. “Thank you, Karlach,” he says gently. “It’s good to be around you again. You’ve no idea how much I missed this.”

Karlach tries not to show her disappointment at her captain's distance. She snags Clive off the bed and holds it out to him — a peace offering. "I missed you too, sailor. So fucking much." The first mate chews the inside of her lip for a moment, trying to come up with the right words. "Are you... here? I've seen so little of you in the past few days, and when I do catch you I can't tell if I'm talking to my Cap or Captain Ancunín." She pauses, frowning slightly, hoping he catches her meaning.

Astarion's eyes soften at her wrods. It hadn't been an intentional blow - that much he knew. But it wounded him all the same. "Of course I'm here," he says, accepting Clive. He traces his thumb over a seam that's been patched over too many times to count, trying to pass off a smile. "Captain Ancunín is only reserved for those who don't know me the way you do."

"Alright. Just checking." Karlach tries to swallow the lump that has rapidly formed in her throat. Somewhat unconsciously, she grabs the blanket and begins rubbing the knit stitches between her fingers. When she continues, her voice is as small as it was when he found her hiding in his cargo hold a decade ago. "Astarion, I am so so sorry. You trusted me with your ship, your crew, your safety, and I fucked it all up. I should have been more careful. I should have caught wind of what they were planning sooner. I should have..." Her voice trails off, not sure which of the thousand things she should have done to prevent his capture by Cazador is worth expressing next.

"No," he says quickly, refusing to let her take this blame. "No, Karlach. You couldn't have known. If I recall correctly, you were the one trying to get me to turn in that night; to not have another drink or play another round. And I didn't listen." He leans his back against the door, folding Clive into his arms across his chest. "I trusted you with my life then, and I trust you with it now. Always."

Karlach sniffs, trying to blink back her tears. "Oh, come here, you stupid vamp." She stands and quickly enfolds Astarion in a massive hug, trapping Clive between his chest and her abdomen and burying her face in his hair. "I love you so much I can't stand it." She gives one more extra-tight squeeze and then pulls away. "Now, I've gotta get some beauty sleep. Any more nights like last night and I'm worried I might fall out of the crow's nest or some shit like that. I'll check in with Doe in the morning, too. 'Night, Cap."

Astarion fights his own wave of emotion, instinctively mastering himself as he'd taught himself over again to do. He wishes he could pull himself to show Karlach a hint of what was stirring within him at her tears and affection — but he's not sure he'd be able to stop if those gates were open. Not yet, at least. "I love you, Karlach," he tells her earnestly, holding Clive out towards her. "Thank you for getting me out of there — and for being there when I got back." He gives her one last tired smile before turning the handle to her cabin door, and making his way back to his quarters for the night.

She stands there for a moment as the door clicks shut, clutching Clive tightly to her chest. This mask of his, at least, is familiar to her. She saw it the moment she invoked Zariel's name on that very first night — begging for passage, a place on his crew, anything to get away. It took years for him to first feel comfortable revealing his true emotions to her, and that was after decades of freedom from his tormentors. Karlach smiles sadly to herself. Her captain is still in there. And she suspects the person most capable of coaxing him back out happens to be sleeping on the other side of her cabin wall.

~~~

The night passes with blissful mundanity. Karlach awakens the next morning with a newfound spring in her step. She feels the load of guilt she's been carrying around for the past three years slowly starting to slip from her shoulders. While she still feels partially at fault for Astarion's capture, just knowing that her captain doesn't blame her for it is relief in itself.

As the crew starts to file out of the mess hall and into their morning shifts, Karlach spots a head of black hair bobbing through the crowd above a familiar-looking coat. The tiefling nearly chokes on her coffee. Oh, shit. He's even more smitten than I thought. She makes a mental note to tease Astarion about this later, then sidles over to Doe.

"Morning, sailor! Sleep well last night? I, um, heard you had a bit of an eventful day yesterday." She winks, trying to make it clear to the half-elf that she holds no hard feelings.

'Karlach!' Doe grins up at her. 'Don't blame me. Blame our captain.' Her grin turns impish, her cheeks going pink. 'Sorry though, Karlach. Really. I um. I actually had a bit of a tough time sleeping. Nightmares, you know. Still... I just met Shadowheart. I think we'll get along, you know? Though I hope to get along with everyone.'

It's important for me to be loved, and I have to earn every scrap.

'Don't panic. I won't be missing for an entire day today, though I asked Gale to teach me some magic- not like that, you perv- I want to be able to defend us at long range. And just to make small things easier. And, you know. The inevitable tacky party trick.' She bumps her with a shoulder. 'Plus I miss Tara. She's so cuddly!'

Doe can't resist giving Karlach a big hug. 'Thank you.' Her voice is quieter now. 'For looking after him.' She knows by the tiefling's look she understands her to mean the captain. She squeezes her hand affectionately. 'See you later. I sense if I'm late to my lessons I'll have hells to pay.'

With that she ducks in, taking the steps two at a time. Absently, she checks for sword and dagger, runs her hands over the coat.

She knocks on the door.

'Gale? I was having a fantastic night last night with an incredibly hot wizard, but he had to love me and leave me.' She pauses, her voice taking a teasing tone. 'I really would like to meet him again. Do you know him? Could you point the way? I'm starting to wonder if he was a particularly delicious figment of my imagination, alas.'

#doe's lighthouse of letters #karlach anon

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