#i actually want 2 know who painted them while he was passed out

[explodingchantry]

Anders isn't my problematic fave because he isn't problematic. I think the wider concept of anders being 'wrong' the fandom has is a clear example of how biased the writing has been in the games. It's the same reason why people hate Jowan, or why they think the kinloch hold mages were stupid. There's a clear bias in the writing and framing of it all that guides the player towards feeling negatively.

The majority of answers you can give Jowan in Dao are negative, mocking, or downright insulting. The ones who aren't are just... Neutral. You can be a bit sympathetic to him in the circle origin but by the time you meed him in redcliff most of your dialogue choices are so fucking mean. In my replay I was trying desperately to be nice and sympathetic to him but the best you can do is be neutral and let him go but for every rude dialogue option there is no "you've been through something horrible, I'm sorry" or "you were manipulated, loghain took advantage of your vulnerability, I'm sorry" it's soooooo.

Likewise, I always make sure to speak to every single npc in the mage origins and the One mention of uldred before the broken circle quest is from the one mage who tells you about the different political faction enchanters are in, and it's with absolute disdain. That mage thinks uldred is annoying and it's implied that the other enchanters think so, too. Uldred who was an activist for mage liberation is treated as annoying for being an activist.

Then he turns out to be a blood mage and to have killed the majority of the circle, turning them into abominations. The message is clear: those who seek liberation are wicked. In the first game of the series, thus in the game which introduced the concept of circles at all, their existence is justified by the text. It overtly says: look at all those foolish mages, how dangerous they can be when One of them is wicked. Can you imagine if they were free? Can you imagine those abominations' destruction if they were out in the open?

Something similar happens in the mage origin, with Jowan. Through the whole origin, whilst Jowan is painted as annoying, he's definitely seen as a victim. Up until he uses blood magic, that is. Suddenly, the player is likely supposed to think "oh, so they were right to want to make him tranquil after all". Instead of being a way to show that the circle will often turn innocent mages tranquil, it shows you that greagoir was right to distrust Jowan, because he was indeed a blood mage. Instead of showing you how paranoid those in power are about mages, the writing justifies their fear and hatred.

Bear in mind this is the first game and likely the very first thing that happens to a lot of new players. The game does not expect you to know the intricacies of its lore yet, doesn't expect you to understand that blood magic is actually fucking neutral unless you sacrifice people for it. You might be tempted to argue that it's setting up for that realisation later and for you to feel bad about Jowan later, realizing he was led to blood magic because it was his only solution, because he and all other mages are caged like dogs (except this is ferelden, so the dogs are better treated than them). But then you've got the redcliff fiasco where it's obvious the writers expect you to fucking hate his guts

And while dragon age 2 is more overt in its depiction of mage suffering, it also tries to pass on the idea that kirkwall is a special case, that it's only the gallows that are this bad. That it's just Meredith whose craaazeyyy 🤪 and not just Meredith being a product of a corrupt system. The writers expect you to think of Anders as an unstable extremist, or as his writer puts it, a "bipolar terrorist" (note that ofc there's nothing fucking wrong with being bipolar, but I don't think his writer cares!)

With different writers and the exact same set of events, Anders blowing up the chantry would be easily recognized as a positive, as an act of justice, of rightful rebellion. Instead it's seen as a tragedy, a mistake. Instead Anders is categorized as a villain, morally grey even though Hawke themselves has a higher death toll than he ever will.

It's a lesson, I think. In narrative bias.

[pup-pee]

daily reminder that bart wearing nailpolish is canon & he does let others paint them 4 him

[mydearesthrry]

right back home to you - h.s.

a/n: had a hard time deciding if i wanted to put this out since im not too happy with the outcome but i wanted to feed u guys. in the future ill probably go back in and edit it but for now i hope you all enjoy this little angsty girl xx im also working on part 2 of love in secret !!!!!!!!!! she should be out fairly soon <3

wc: 4.8k

warnings: none, angst, fluff, flight anxiety

“Hello? ‘M home,” Harry shouted into the cold house. Not that he would even notice, but the air was dull and the atmosphere was still, hues in the normally vibrant house now gray and lifeless. “Baby?” 

“Oh, hi Harry,” A dulcet smile was on her face as she walked around the corner with sweatpants and a baggy hoodie on, a baseball cap on top of her head. She had her dirty and beat up air forces on her feet that Harry loved to make fun of, small dollops of paint on the soles of the shoe. She also had a pair of sunnies that lay stagnant on the dark blue visor, a tell tale sign for Harry that she was going out. “I didn’t hear you come home.” 

Harry hummed, holding his arms out for her to walk into. She did, but only embraced him with half of her body, one arm curling around his waist loosely while the other stayed swaying by her side. In both of their opinions, it was way too short to even be considered a hug, not even close to being an embrace, but Y/N did it purposely. Harry frowned, feeling a twinge of hurt at her unusual lack of affection. “Um… Are y- are y’going out?” 

She laughed falsely, shaking her head and turning her body to face the large windows in their apartment. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” 

Harry was still confused. “What d’you mean?” 

It’s now or never, Y/N thought, and mustered her bravest smile as she pivot turned to face him again. “I’m leaving, Harry. I’m going up to New York to stay with Eliza. I don’t know when I’ll be home, but I’ll be sure to let you know in advance, is that okay?” 

A few beats pass, Harry staring at her in disbelief. “What the fuck? No, no, s’not okay! Why- why are y’leaving? Y’didn’t even tell me? When were you planning on telling me y’were leaving?” 

“I’ve been planning on leaving for a long time, Harry. I was actually meant to leave before you even got home, really, but you’re early.” She sighed, rubbing at her temple and knowing the fight that was about to ensue. 

“Why are y’leaving?” Harry’s voice started to grow in volume, becoming harder and harsher as he tightened his hands into balled fists, trying to channel his feelings in another way rather than yelling at his girlfriend. 

“I’m leaving because I can’t do this anymore, Harry. I cant keep arguing with you every day, it’s just not fair to me. And it’s not fair to you either, really, so I’m just… taking the stress off of the both of us and making the bold decision to leave.” She explains, moving to grab her suitcases from the hallway and roll them into the living room. 

“That’s wha’ this is about? The fight we had last night?” He asks, eyes widening and mouth drying at the sight of her multiple suitcases. 

“Um— not entirely, I guess. I’ve meant to go up to visit Eliza, if you remember, we were going to but you had um— a party, that you needed to attend. So I just decided to book a flight last night after you went to sleep.” She's as quiet as a mouse, her words not staggering but it was physically obvious that she was nervous. 

“So what now? Is that it? You’re just… throwing away four years of my- of our fucking life?” Harry spat. She’d started to shrink into herself quite a bit, sweaty palms running over the now warm black handle of her small suitcase. 

“I’m not throwing away anything, Harry. We had a fight, you and I both said some nasty things, and I’m just going up to my sister's house for a little bit to clear my head. Like I said, I was meaning to go up anyway. This isn’t really about you, Harry, as much as you think it might be. I’ve been miserable here all alone and all I want is to be with someone who I know can provide me with love and attention right now, which is what I need. You need it too.” She tried to hold her ground but the tremble in her soft voice made her feel weak. 

She and Harry had gotten into a multitude of arguments within the past weeks that he had been off tour. It started from little things, like a sock being thrown over the laundry basket and not inside of it, or one of them leaving their dirty tea mugs on the counter when the sink was right there! But as small and insignificant as these things were, they also grew into arguments about bigger issues. One of the more nasty arguments had pushed her to pack her bags and book a plane ride up to her sister’s house in New York. 

The argument on the table this time around was that whenever Harry was home after an elongated amount of time on the road, he would treat Y/N as if she was his friend and not girlfriend of three years. She’d had a problem with this seeing as all she ever wanted him to do was love her and take care of her, and for some reason she couldn’t help but feel he found that hard. 

“Bullshit. I know y’leaving ‘cause your feelings got hurt or whatever, but you know y’don’t have to leave, pup. We can resolve this, don’t we always?” He grumbles, taking a few small steps forward to meet her where she stood by the door. 

“It’s entirely different this time, Harry.” She sighed, bending down to sit on the floor since she knew they’d probably be there for a while. 

“How?! How could this be any fuckin’ different? We’re jus’ arguin’ are we not?” Harry runs a stressed hand through his hair, trying to channel his energy away from his voice. Though he tried to refrain from allowing his anger to seep its way into his voice, his girlfriend could still pick up on the edge that lined his vocal chords. 

“No, baby. We aren’t just arguing. This is me trying to tell you how I feel, and you keep pushing it aside. So this isn’t just us arguing anymore, I guess I’m surrendering. I’m tired of doing this with you whenever you’re home, Harry. I’m alone every day, 24/7, and then you come home and it’s like nothing has changed. Which I love, I love how we can just bounce back, but sometimes I need more love or attention when you come back, and I just…” She starts to gnaw on her lips, trying to word her next thought carefully. “I’m tired of being treated like your friend rather than your girlfriend.” 

“What?” 

“Mhm. Besides me being alone all the time, whenever I do have you— or people around, you only ever want to keep me at arms length. The whole world knows we’re together, Harry. You’ve posted on my birthday and it’s no secret to anyone anymore. I… I just can’t understand why you do that, really. It makes me feel like I’m just your friend and not your lover.” She pauses, inhaling a sharp breath of air and willing her tears away. 

“What do you— what do you even mean? I’m always with you whenever I’m home, I bring y’everywhere w’me?” His anger just kept growing and growing, but this time he noticed that the weight of guilt that was sitting on his heart had gotten heavier with every breath he took, the weight of the pull almost being able to bring him to his knees.

She lets out a wet laugh, shaking her head before dropping it in defeat. “Harry… I hate to bring it up but— you’ve been home for what, three weeks now? We haven’t had sex, we barely have cuddled, you don’t put your arm around me in public or kiss my cheek. I— I feel like I’m losing you. It’s so hard to love you when you won’t let me. I’ve tried to be understanding and just trying to accept the fact that you’re readjusting to our normal life but… I miss you. The only time we talk for longer than a few minutes is when we fight, and that’s not okay. You know how much you mean to me, but I just can’t keep trying to love someone you aren’t anymore. It’s just too destructive to me and I just can’t. I’m sorry, Harry. I hope you can understand, and I’ll be back whenever we’re ready.” 

Harry’s now shaking with sobs. Uncontrollable, messy, heartbreaking sobs. Her words were finally making sense to him. All of the arguments had finally made sense. She was arguing with him just so he would talk to her. He thought he could die with the amount of guilt squeezing his heart right now. 

“I love you, isn’t that enough?” He whispered. 

“I don’t think it is anymore, Harry.” Lifting herself up to her feet, she rolls her suitcase to stand behind her, taking a few small steps to be inches away from her Harry. “I’ll be back, H. I promise.” 

Placing a kiss to his wet cheek, he watched her walk away with a damp smile, and against his will, engrained the image of her leaving to his mind. 

This wasn’t how he imagined they would end. 

He didn’t even entertain the thought of them ever ending; but now he feels like he just lost every single atom of his being in the quickest of moments. 

—

It was hell. 

Harry could say with full conviction that it was absolute hell to be in that house, that big house on the beach, alone. 

Nothing felt right. From the second he woke up in the morning, to the minute he slid his legs under the covers at night, he almost felt nauseous because of how unusual he felt. How unusual everything felt. 

And it was all his fault. 

Picking up his phone, he goes to text his sweet girl again when he decides to scroll up to find the reprieve of gray amongst the sea of blue. 

Harry: Please text me when you land. 

Harry: I love you, please don’t forget that. 

Harry: Take all the time you need, Angel. I’m here if you need me. I’m so sorry.

Harry: I’ll be waiting for you when you get home. Just say the word and I’ll get you a ticket. 

Harry: Take your time though, please be safe. I love you.

Harry: Again

Y/N: just landed. kinda busy rn, talk to you later bug

Harry: That’s okay, be safe. ❤️

Y/N loved this message

Harry: I love you 

Y/N: yeah love you too h

Allowing his head to drop onto the back of the sofa, his arm fell limp onto his thigh, his green eyes scanned the interior of the living room, twinges of pain and guilt panting in his chest whenever he’d land his gaze on something that was proprietarily hers. 

Her growing orchids in a handmade pot that they’d painted together on their first Valentine’s Day as a couple. 

The godawful mirror she thrifted from a random corner store back in her hometown that she begged Harry to put up. 

A small canvas filled with tiny paintings of inside jokes and memorable dates that she gifted to him last Christmas. He allowed himself to trace over that painting for a little longer than the rest of the small things placed among their living room. 

11/29/19. The first time they met. 

1/16/21. When Harry asked her to be his girlfriend. 

4/07/21. The first time they said I love you. 

12/25/22. When Harry surprised Y/N on Christmas with a down payment on a house. The one he was now residing in, alone. 

A red convertible figurine, the car they first kissed in. 

A coffee cup and a teacup, symbolizing the first date they went on, where he learned she hates tea and preferred coffee, which led to an argument on whether coffee or tea was better. 

A small tulip, representing the first bouquet of flowers he ever bought her. 

And a small pearl ring, an exact replica of the promise ring Harry had given her on their 3 year anniversary. 

He didn’t even notice the streaks of tears beginning to run down his face until he felt a teardrop fall onto his inner wrist, making him look down. 

But as he canvassed the room once more, he perked up at the sight of a small snow globe that she brought him back from New York, and that was when he got an idea. He knew it was dramatic, and a bit of a stretch, but who said he wouldn’t go to extreme lengths to get his soulmate back?

Yeah, no one ever. 

To: Eliza

Harry: Hey Liz, got a sec?

—

Harry hated flying alone. 

Since he was a teenager and stepped foot on his first plane, he was anxious even being next to someone he barely knew even though his friends were two seats away. Though he would claim that he’s always been a bit anxious and just chalking it up to flight anxiety, he knew that the real reason why he hated flying alone was because he always feared that something bad would happen on the ground when he was in the air and vice versa, and that was always his greatest vice. 

His hands began to tremble nervously as he looked out the window of the airplane, seeing nothing but fluffy white on the exterior and the soft red light of the aircraft’s wings blinking every so often. His headphones were placed over his head, smushing his curls down flat onto his head, a mask covering the bottom half of his face. His hood was pulled up as well, trying to conceal himself as much as possible. He hadn’t brought much, just a little carry on and a small tote to shove under the seat in front of him. It was wishful thinking that he wouldn’t be there for a long while, but he brought the keys to his apartment in New York anyway. 

He kept his head hung in nausea, the speed of his shaking hands increasing tenfold. The pit in his stomach grew and he had to beg his own body to allow his eyes to not stray to the window next to him. Sure, he could close it, but he feared if it was too dark he would become more anxious than he was right now. The mask covering the bottom half of his face now felt constricting— as if he was being suffocated by the thin layer of fabric. The light douse of perfume that danced around the sunflower print of the mask couldn’t even distract him, and it only pained him more that his senses were fully encompassed by her. He bit down on his lip to distract himself by the whirling feeling of nausea that now swirled around in his throat, willing away the sick that begged to come out.

The rest of the flight was the same, his anxiety only decreasing when he allowed himself to take a small nap. However, when he woke up, his nerves had heightened when he flickered his gaze from the window to the screen in front of him, reading only 20 minutes until he was set to touch down. Grasping his phone from his hoodie pocket, he aligned it to his face then rolling his eyes when he remembered he had a mask on. Lowering his phone he typed in his password— Y/N’s birthday— and pulled up their messages again. 

Harry: Good morning baby. I love you. I hope you have a good day today!! 

Y/N: thanks h love you

He couldn’t lie and say that her being short with him didn’t hurt his feelings, because it did. He wasn’t going to avoid the fact, but that didn’t mean that he liked it regardless. He felt like a fool checking his phone so often, especially when he knew that she wouldn’t be making an effort to reach out first, but he could be hopeful, right? 

At least that’s what he’s telling himself. 

The plane landed safely, nerves rolling off of his back in waves and he was more than happy to leave his flight anxiety on the floor of the plane, relieved to not be miles high in the air. There was a lull that was obvious to Harry, and he felt himself switch to function in autopilot, waiting mindlessly to enter the aisle to retrieve his bag from the overhead compartment. 

The nippy New York air was the first thing to snap Harry out of his trance. Looking down at his phone, he felt a soft buzz and soon after felt his heart beat almost fast enough to eject from his chest. 

Y/N: saw this in a store earlier, thought of u

Y/N: Attachment: 1 Image 

Eliza: waiting near terminal b for you, lmk when you get outside 

Harry: I’m outside, can you see me?

Eliza: yep. be there in a sec

Swiping out of Y/N’s sisters messages, he went to click on Y/N’s before a black car stopped in front of him, averting his attention from his device to the car that just screeched to a halt. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he trudged forward and grabbed onto the door handle, prying it open and avoiding Eliza’s deathly stare. “Um- hiiii.” 

She scoffed. “Hi, H.” 

He throws his tote to his feet, awkwardly buckling himself in and turned in his seat, avoiding eye contact but making sure she knew that conversation was open if she’d wanted to make it. “How— um… How are you?”

Silence follows his words for a few seconds, making him heat up in embarrassment. “Good.” 

“Oh- that’s good… I, um— haven't seen y’in quite a while, Lizzy,” He says softly, guilt evident in his voice. “I missed you.” 

Eliza was basically Gemma’s best friend. They were attached at the hip the first time they met, bonding over being the eldest sisters, and shared secrets. Y/N and Harry’s family had always been interconnected, close with each other even if Y/N and Harry lacked that communication. 

They were basically soul tied in every sense of the phrase. 

“Yeah, I missed you too, H. But,” Eliza starts. “You’ve been a right dick to my sister.” 

“I know,” He whispers. 

“Do you? Fuck, H, my fucking baby sister came to me crying because of you. And you know how much I love you, truly, you know I do, but I love her more. So, I just have to ask,” She pauses, gnawing on her lip and clicking her blinker on to signal her turn. “What the hell happened?” 

“I,” He sniffs, trying to contain his emotions already begging to come out. “I don’t know.” 

Eliza snorts. “Bullshit.” 

“I— I really don’t, Lizzy. I guess I was really in m’head about… well, everything. I lo- love her so much,” Harry’s voice cracks, his facade shattering into more microscopic pieces than the most delicate sheet of glass ever could. 

“I know you do, H. That’s why this is so confusing to me. To Gems. And most importantly, to Y/N. What happened, Curly? How’d we lose you?” She begs, trying to get him to explain where he was mentally. She loved him as she would Y/N, which was the hardest part. It hurt her as much as it hurt him to confront him about the issue. 

“I don’t want her to hate me! Okay?” Harry sobs, chin falling to his chest in weakness. “I don’t want her t’hate me for being away all the time, and I’m so fucking scared. ‘M scared because the press is doing nothing but talking bad about me and I don’t know if I can equally protect her as much as she does me when this happens. When it happens t’me I jus’ ignore it, but I know she can’t do that. I know it, Lizzy, and so d’you.” 

“I know, H. I know.” She whispers. 

“I jus’ wanted to keep her as far away as I could so that if she did decide she didn’t want me anymore, it wouldn’t hurt as bad.” He murmurs so quietly, he himself even doubts if he said it out loud. 

Silence followed the rest of the car ride, the only sound filling the space of the vehicle being the soft splatter of rain on the glass windows and windshield, paired with the crackly static of the stereo. The sun even seemed to be hiding away, the sky dark with clouds, little to no light making an appearance to greet Harry’s arrival. 

Pulling up to her driveway, Eliza parked the car, keeping her ignition on so she could drive away after Harry got into the house. Turning to Harry, she chewed on her bottom lip as she traced his side profile with her eyes. “You need to tell her exactly what you told me. Word for word, Harry. You can’t keep her in the dark. She doesn’t even know I went to pick you up. So, just promise me that you’ll tell her exactly what you told me.” 

“I promise.” Harry’s voice cracked in a broken whisper, vocal cords thrumming against each other as if they were rusted. “Love you, Lizzy. Thank you.”

Stepping out of the car, he knocked on the door thrice, and tapped softly on the doorbell for good measure. His hands had gone cold with anxiousness, but he wrote it off as the stark cold weather of New York. 

“Harry? Oh my god, baby, get inside,” Y/N pulled him in immediately, pushing his thick puffer jacket off of him that was shiny with rainwater, hands coming up to pull his baby blue beanie from his hair, revealing his soft curls. They shared no words as she pulled him to the living room, where she sat the both of them down and covered the length of their torsos and legs with a big fluffy blanket. Y/N didn’t waste a second before she threw her legs over his thighs, grabbing his hands and rubbing over the cold and cracked red skin, trying to exude as much warmth from her own as much as she could. 

She’s always been warm. 

Her hands have always been graced with heat and more significantly, she always tended to carry around an aura as sweet as honey and as warm as a hug with her wherever she went. Bringing their hands up to his lips, he presses kisses all over the back of hers, kissing her knuckles and fingertips that moved erratically over his own. She could feel the dry chap of his lips on her hands and down to her wrists but she didn’t care. She didn’t mind one bit. She would rather commit the feeling of his lips on her hands to memory rather than not know what they felt like at all. 

“What’re you doing here, baby?” She asks, concern etched in her face as she lifts her head to look at him, her movements on his hands not staggering or slowing. 

“Came t’see you,” He whispers weakly. “Couldn’t bear it. I need t’see you, hold y’again… Fuck, do jus’ about anything to be near y’again.” 

Her heart twisted with the most intense emotion that she could only describe as heartbreak. “You— you got on a plane by yourself just to come see me?” 

“Would do jus’ about anything f’you, sweet girl. Of course I would go on a plane jus’ by myself if it meant I could hold you.” He admitted. He avoided eye contact with her, keeping his eyes trained on their conjoined hands that now lay stagnant on the soft fabric of the blanket. 

“Harry,” She whispers. “Why are you here, my love?” 

“I felt too guilty t’let you leave like that,” He says, gnawing on his bottom lip to will away the tears begging to escape. “I couldn’t let y’go without telling y’I loved you. And I didn’t…” He pauses, struggling for air as he over explained. “I didn’t even explain m’self. I didn’t tell you I loved you. I didn’t kiss y’back. I didn’t even tell y’to be safe.” 

He’s fully sobbing now, Y/N tracing his side profile with his eyes, jittering with fear and anxiety. “It’s okay, hey, baby, listen,” Grabbing his chin with the tips of her fingers, she turns his head to hers, resting his forehead atop of hers. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I just needed time to think and I didn’t want to lash out on you because I didn’t have time to. We’re okay, baby. I promise.” 

He shook his head while she spoke, tears falling on the fluff of the blanket with every movement. His eyes were clenched as if he was in pain, and uneven erratic breaths fell from his mouth. “Nonono. I should— should’ve listened to you. I did- didn’t mean t’treat y’like tha’,” Harry’s accent had gotten heavier with how much emotion he was feeling, stumbling over his words as if he was drunk. 

“And I should’ve explained myself more. It’s not your fault, H. Please baby, breathe,” She begged, tightening her grip on his hands as she pleaded with her nose slotted next to his, every whispered beg pushing her lips forward to lightly brush against his raw-bitten ones. “There, that’s it.” 

His breaths began to even out, just the slightest bit. His hands still shook dramatically, veins in his neck that once protruded from the force of his cries now retracting. “I’m sorry.” 

“Harry, stop apolog-“ 

“No. I have t’say this before I leave because if I don’t, I don’t think I ever will. I— I didn’t mean t’push y’away. I was trying to protect m’self but I didn’t see that it was hurting y’too. It wasn’t my intention, and now I realize it wasn’t the right thing t’do.” He sniffles, pulling back from her face to hold eye contact for the utmost emphasis on his words. 

“I tried to keep you far away because if you ended up resenting me for being away all the time it would hurt less if you decided to leave me. Paired with everything that’s being said in the media about m’right now, I tried t’keep y’as far away as I could so that if everything came crashing down on me, I would’ve had to cope with losing y’less than everything else. And I kept picking fights with y’so that if— or when y’got too fed up w’me, you’d leave me yourself instead of something else forcing y’to leave me. I think it was all subconscious, seeing how I freaked out on y’when y’told me you were leaving. I guess I didn’t really prepare myself for when it was really going t’happen. I’m really, really sorry, Angel. I really do hope y’can forgive me.” 

She’s silent. It scares him, he can’t lie. He takes her silence as an answer and pulls his hands from her grasp and moves her legs softly off of his thighs, standing up and brushing off his pants in an attempt to stall. She’s still mute, and he takes it as his cue to go. There’s still tears streaming down his face, but they’re silent. Like he doesn’t even want to acknowledge that they’re falling at all. 

“I love you.” He whispers, before turning and walking to the door. Placing his hand on the knob, he turns it, and his heart follows the motion with a sharp twist that he thinks he feels in his entire body. He’s gnawing in his lip to avoid breaking down in front of her, even though she’s arguably seen him at his worst and most vulnerable times. Opening the door, he’s greeted with the harsh cold air, biting at his skin so aggressively he feels like his tears have now frozen to his face. Bearing the pain, he forced himself to take the step out the doorway and onto the porch, on autopilot as he let his feet decide his motions. 

“Harry, wait,” Y/N pleaded, running out behind him, meeting him in the middle of the driveway in nothing but tiny shorts and a stolen crewneck of his that she'd haphazardly stuffed into her luggage. “I love you. I love you more than I could probably ever explain, and I— I just need you to know that. If you’re done with me or done with this, that’s okay, I just need you to know that I love you.” 

“I love you. Always.” He whispers, lips trembling with sadness. 

“You know I always will, right?” She asks, placing a warm hand onto his wet and cold cheek.

“I know, baby. I do.” He says. 

“I’m here whenever you want me. I promise.” She pleads, coming up to reach his lips, placing a soft kiss to his cold ones. 

“Come home, please.” 

“Always, H. I’ll always come right back home to you.”

[sturniluvr]

Puppy Love

Matt sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none that I can think of, just fluffy

summary: for their anniversary, Matt surprises Y/N by adopting a dog for them and they become dog parents

requested?: yes/no

A/N: the whole adoption process may be incorrect as I’ve never adopted a dog or anything like that so idk if you can actually adopt them and then pick them up but hey ho😭also the photos for the IG posts at the end, just imagine the puppy in the photos is a golden lab and not some random dogs off Pinterest or Trevor, Presley or Leo Leclerc, it was hard finding photos😭

❗️semi proof read❗️

Today was Matt and Y/N’s 3 year anniversary and Matt had a big surprise for Y/N, he was going to the animal shelter to pick up their new Labrador retriever puppy. She had wanted a pet for the longest time and as much as Matt hated to, he had to say no to her since there was nobody to take care of said pet. A year later however, Y/N had started her own business and began to work from home, so she was always home and Matt thought it’d be the perfect anniversary present to get her a pet. 

He woke up fairly early that morning to go and pick up the puppy and buy her a bouquet of flowers, he had already brought her a few gifts, but he decided last minute that some flowers wouldn’t hurt aswel and he had a sweet idea on how to introduce the dog to her that involved the flowers. He got dressed, got in his car and drove to the nearest flower shop to him and brought her a bouquet of her favourite flowers, roses and made his way to the animal shelter to pick up their new fur baby. 

He parked outside the animal shelter and made his way into the shelter, immediately getting overwhelmed with cuteness at all the dogs and cats, he just wanted to take them all home but sadly he couldn’t. The owner of the shelter came over to him and introduced herself.  

“Hi, you must be Matt? I’m Marie” she shook his hand. He nodded as he replied. 

“That’s me, how are you?” 

“I’m well thank you. I understand you’re here to pick up little Leo is that correct? He’s pretty well trained for his young age, but a little extra training would never hurt.” He nodded and he followed her over to the cage that held Leo, the 2 year old Labrador retriever who looked up at Matt with big brown eyes and his tongue hanging out. He immediately fell in love as soon as he laid eyes on the puppy. The older woman passed Matt the adoption papers and he signed them, he and Y/N were officially dog parents. 

“You’re going home today little man. Do you have all the supplies for him or is there anything you need to purchase while here?” The older lady spoke as she opened the cage and passed Leo over to Matt and once Leo was finished licking Matt’s face, he put him in the little carrier he had brought the day before. 

“I have most of it, all I need is some food and a leash and then we’ll be good to go, won’t we buddy?” He replied, looking at the puppy. He had brought everything they’d need for Leo a couple days ago and hid it in Chris’ room knowing that’s the room Y/N was least likely to go in out of the house. Matt and Marie made their way over to the counter after grabbing a bag of puppy food and a leash off the shelves and Marie moved to behind the counter to scan what he needed. 

“That’s all done for you. Do you have any questions about taking care of Leo here?” Marie asked Matt as she passed him the plastic bag with the puppy food and leash. 

“Yeah. Leo’s a surprise for my girlfriend for our anniversary and I also brought her some flowers for an idea I had to introduce Leo to her. Are roses generally safe to have in his mouth?” Matt queried. 

“Yes, they are harmless to him, just make sure you obviously cut off the thorns beforehand, so he doesn’t hurt himself on them. You’re a good boyfriend, your girlfriend is lucky” she smiled sweetly causing a gentle blush to paint Matt’s cheeks. 

“Thank you that’s very sweet and yeah, I was planning to cut them off anyway, that’s all thank you. Have a good day.” Matt thanked her and grabbed the crate and bag of supplies and left the shelter and got Leo’s crate settled in the passenger seat of the car. 

“You ready to go meet your mama?” Matt spoke to the puppy, Leo panting in response, they made a quick stop at Starbucks to get Y/N a caramel latte and Matt got the same and brought Leo a puppucino. 

Before he walked into the house, Matt called Nick to come to the garage with some scissors so he could sort the roses out. He saw Nick walk out of the garage door and he passed the scissors through the car window and walked over to the opposite side so he could ‘meet his nephew’ as he said. As soon as he opened the crate and picked up Leo, he smiled at the adorable puppy.  

“Why are you cutting the thorns off the roses?” Nick asked his younger brother with the puppy in his arms. 

“I’m going to put one of the roses in Leo’s mouth and surprise Y/N like that and I’ll put the rest in a vase for her next to her card and other presents.” Matt replied, concentrating on cutting the thorns so his little puppy won’t hurt himself.  

When he was done, Nick took the rest of the flowers and took them upstairs to put in a vase for Matt while he got Leo ready to surprise the younger woman. 

“Right, are you ready to go meet mama? You know what to do?” The dog replied by licking his face causing a smile to illuminate Matt’s face. He picked the puppy up and grabbed the Starbucks and locked the car and made his way upstairs. 

He put Leo on the floor in the living room, having Nick watch him to make sure he didn’t move until he needed to, and Matt picked up Y/N’s latte and walked into his room, smiling at the sight of Y/N still flat out asleep, hugging mr wrinkleton to her chest. He walked over to her side of the bed and gently shook her. 

“Wake up beautiful. I got you a latte” she smiled sleepily as she took the Starbucks from her boyfriend and took small sips before placing it on the bedside table.

“Happy anniversary my love” she murmured sleepily “your gift and card are in the closet.” She added on, attempting to get up but Matt softly pushed her back down. 

“I want you to have my presents first babe, I have a nice surprise for you.” Y/N was slightly confused as he took her hand to lead her out of the bed and out the bedroom and her eyes locked on the Labrador retriever puppy sat in the living room with a rose in his mouth. She gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth, and she quickly walked over to him, pulling the rose from his mouth and immediately, she started fussing him. 

“This is Leo, he’s our new puppy” Matt smiled, and Y/N’s eyes filled with small tears of happiness. Matt made his way over to his little family and sat on the floor, fussing the puppy with his girlfriend. 

“Welcome home baby boy” Y/N cooed to the puppy, causing him to lick her face and she giggled. Matt took a picture of the two along with the photos he already had of Leo, one being of him sat on his lap with his head on the steering wheel that Nick had took just before he came upstairs.

“I love you both so much” Y/N whispered, reaching over and planting a kiss on Matt’s lips which and the couple smiled into the kiss before getting interrupted by Leo joining in by licking their faces making them both laugh at the puppy.

After playing with Leo, Y/N opened her other gifts from Matt and Y/N had gave Matt her presents for him, the couple quickly grabbed Leo’s things from Chris’ room, making sure Chris was awake first and the youngest triplet made his way upstairs and played with the puppy to keep him entertained while Y/N and Matt sorted his things out throughout the house such as his bed, his training pads and his food and drink bowls and everything else. 

They had finished setting everything up for Leo and the couple were now in his bathroom, Y/N, getting ready for the day and Matt was brushing his teeth while watching, almost mesmerised, while she applied her makeup. 

“Thank you, Matt, I’m so happy we now have our own puppy” Y/N smiled as she hugged Matt after she finished applying her makeup. He smiled as he hugged her back, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. 

“It’s okay sweetheart, I know how much you wanted a pet and now that there’s someone home pretty much 24/7, I decided it’d be perfect to surprise you with Leo. Happy anniversary darling.” he replied. 

“Happy anniversary baby” she murmured, her words being muffled from Matt’s t-shirt. 

“What do you say we take Leo for a walk on the beach, yeah?” He suggested, she nodded to her boyfriend and the couple left the bathroom to get shoes on and Y/N picked Leo up and they made their way down to the garage and got in the car and headed to the beach. 

Matt and Y/N announced the addition to the household a week later on Instagram. 

y/user

Liked by: matthew.sturniolo, nicolassturniolo, christophersturniolo, madisonbeer and others

y/user: the latest addition to the sturniolo-y/l/n household, welcome home baby Leo, featuring uncle Chris and Leo having cuddles🫶🏻

tagged: matthew.sturniolo, christophersturniolo

comments:

nicolassturniolo: Leo Sturniolo-y/l/n supremacy🫶🏻😌love the little fur baby❤️

liked by: y/user, matthew.sturniolo

christophersturniolo: Little Leo loves his uncle chris, he’s the cooler uncle😉

liked by: y/user, matthew.sturniolo, nicolassturniolo

nicolassturniolo: umm I think tf not

y/user: how about he likes his mama better than both of you?😌😘

liked by: christophersturniolo, nicolassturniolo, matthew.sturniolo

matthew.sturniolo: now that we have a fur baby, can I call you a MILF?😘😏

liked by creator❤️

y/user: you’ve been spending too much time with Chris 😭😂

liked by: matthew.sturniolo

user5: MATT😭😭😭

user1: OMG NOW THEYRE PARENTSS

user2: milf and dilf🤭

matthew.sturniolo: that’s what I’m sayin😌

user2: MATT LMAOOOO

nathandoe8: uncle Nate wants cuddles next time I’m in LA

liked by: y/user, matthew.sturniolo

y/user: can’t wait for you to meet him Nate, if we come to Boston before you come to LA, well for sure bring him to meet his uncle Nate😘

madisonbeer: omg Leo and Presley play dates when I’m back from tour🤭🫶🏻

liked by creator❤️

y/user: you already know it babes, Leo and Presley gonna be the baddest duo ever 🤭

user4: Leo asleep on Matt’s shoulder😭

load more comments

matthew.sturniolo

Liked by: y/user, nicolassturniolo, christophersturniolo, nathandoe8 and others

matthew.sturniolo: Leo Sturniolo-y/l/n everybody🐾❤️and the most gorgeous milf ever😉😘

photo creds to @/nicolassturniolo for the first photo📸

tagged: y/user

comments:

nicolassturniolo: he’s so photogenic just like his uncle Nick🤭😌

liked by creator❤️

nicolassturniolo: Matt giving photo creds? who is this and what have you done with my brother?

liked by: matthew.sturniolo, y/user

matthew.sturniolo: ha ha ha ha, so funny nicolas🙄

y/user: I thought he was pretty funny babe👀

nicolassturniolo: see Matt😌

matthew.sturniolo: you’re both annoying (Y/N come back to the couch, me and our son want cuddles😘)

user5: has Leo met Trevor yet??

y/user: no not yet as we haven’t had the chance to go to Boston. We’re planning to soon tho so they will meet soon💓

y/user: our fur baby🥹thank you again for surprising me with him baby❤️

liked by creator❤️

matthew.sturniolo: you’re welcome my love❤️ now will you PLEASE come back to the couch I’m getting cuddle deprived😭

y/user: on my way you needy child🫶🏻😭

y/user: and stop calling me a milf, @/christophersturniolo you’re a bad influence on my boyfriend 😭😭

liked by: matthew.sturniolo, christophersturniolo

matthew.sturniolo: but baby you AREEE a milf😘😭

y/user: anyone want a Matt Sturniolo?? he’s free on the boyfriend market😭😂

christophersturniolo: im not a bad influence missy, you’re just boring (you’re literally the funniest person i know after me)

liked by: y/user

y/user: @/christophersturniolo why thank you😌😭

liked by: matthew.sturniolo, christophersturniolo

christophersturniolo: Matt quit simping on the main😭, where’s tough guy Matt💪🏻

liked by: matthew.sturniolo, y/user

matthew.sturniolo: ‘tough guy Matt’ will be coming to kick your ass if you don’t shut up 🤺

nicolassturniolo: more like setting Leo on him, dogs got some gnashers on him😭

liked by: matthew.sturniolo christophersturniolo, y/user

y/user: leave Matt alone you two, just cus you’re both single and he’s not😘🙄

liked by creator❤️

matthew.sturniolo: thank you baby😌

user9: Leo with the rose in his mouth🥹

liked by: y/user

y/user: that was how Matt introduced me to him on our anniversary, he had the roses in his mouth 🥹

user9: STOP THATS THE CUTEST😭 IM SO SINGLE😭

user11: most iconic dog ever alongside Trevor and Presley😌

liked by: matthew.sturniolo, y/user

user7: the puppucino😭😂

user1: Y/N and Leo asleep together has got to be the cutest thing ever😭🫶🏻

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🏷️: @imwetforyourmom @luvr4miya @laurj11

If you’re an f1 fan, notice a familiar pup in here😌🤭

[bi-badass-geek]

Hades 1 vs Hades 2 Designs

● Hermes besides Hypnos was first character that made me think when i saw him oh some time has passed since Zag's escapes indeed, makes you feel that time skip. In this particular debate between those i'm really digging both but if needed to say which i prefer would go with second. I feel it should be said he sure rolls nicely with longer hair i would say darker outfit too but that's probably because pallet that's used for levels.

Ps. I saw post that mentioned how his ring is the same as ones Charon is wearing in first game and if it's a hint at something i'm here for it!

● Zeus for this god specifically there is discourse about how his pose is less dynamic and oh boy if i don't agree with that so much. In first game you see him and his look makes you think yeah this is the king of gods while in second game man is just there with posture i take often because i'm useless gay that don't know what to do with my hands and feels like they took all this might and put it into chiseling his nipples & abs into his golden chestplate. Not to mention the detail of missing the iconic bolt! Don't think it needs to be said but 100% would pick Hades 1 design out of those options.

● Poseidon the King of the Sea another example in my humble opinion where they went with flattening that dynamic looks exchanging it for man that just standing there chilling which is good for him but where first screams cool uncle second one goes uncle that wants retirement. I really like how we can see the trident now tho and need to point out his outfit sure got more print on it. When it comes down to pointing out which one is the winner in my eyes it would be 2020 one.

● Aphrodite if she wasn't the one that got thrown into drama because people double standards and hypocrisy. Design from first game and the pose straight up makes you think of love, lust, seduction all the things that are associated with said goddess. As for Hades 2 version i have no clue why it feels like this considering it's actually the opposite because we can see armor on her legs now but she feels less covered for me, do i find it negative or in any way problematic? Not one bit let the woman show off all her assets all day long! Really love the adds of her weapon and shield makes you immerse in the store of oh fights are happening around these parts. From seduction to i stand here at the ready kinda vibe and i'm really digging it.

Ps. Another post i read was about fact that her war paint i will call it (not 100% sure if that is it or just line for the giggles) is reference to Ares and considering her myth i really like that touch!

● Hypnos was the first OG i saw and was like man not only catching up on his sleep but also got such glow up i absolutely adore the design. Not to say he looked bad in Hades 1 but there it was like okay nice to Hades 2 like Damnnn and his lil helpers that keeps him up! Love the fact that of all things they made him be tucked into his cape like burrito.

Ps. I really do hope by the end of the game we get to wake him up so he can try out that nectar that we all leave there waiting.

● Chaos so many things to say and at the same time silence says it all. Seen people focusing on fact some out there call them he or how it's a downgrade from previous but don't even elaborate why they think that because everyone has right to have their own preference but at least put it into words instead of going trash next..there was also notion how they resemble Meg and while i see where people get that idea from for sure before reading that my mind didn't went there at all. I think both designs really work with someone who is primordial originator and how time goes so can their form. I find it very fascinating that they put old skeleton with new one and adore galaxy under suit makes me think of Nyx right away and how they're connected. Can totally see how between those two gamers got major stance that left reminds them more of male and right of female beings but at the end of the it chaos is chaos. Gotta take chair routine from Meg while they at it! The face on the shoulder surely throws me in loop tho fits? Sure. Does it disturb me in micro scale? Yes. About frames and poses don't have much to say cause both caption the essence of i mind my business everything unrelevant until i say so.

Ps. I know it's about physical aspect but let me say Chaos roasting Mel about how her brother is amusing one out of two Hades spawns is living rent free in my brain.

[gennyanydots]

Forced to go to the strip club

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x spitfire!wife

Part of the “Spitfire Universe”

Not necessary to read the other parts but helpful.

Summary: It’s Bob’s bachelor party and their babysitter cannot handle them. Reinforcements must be called in. Reinforcements are sleepy.

“Hello?” You say as you answer the phone sleepily. Who the fuck would be calling at this time? What time was it anyway? You went to bed way later than normal and you feel like you were pretty asleep so it’s got to at least be 2 in the morning or something.

“Is this Mrs. Hangman?” A male voice, that you don’t recognize, on the other line asks. You laugh at that. You didn’t realize when you married Jake you were actually gaining two new names instead of one. You were expecting Jake to be the one calling since his name came up on your phone when you looked for half a second before answering. Whoever this is must have gotten a hold of Jake’s phone somehow.

“Yes, this is she,” you say with a yawn.

“Hi, umm, this is Bob’s cousin. I was the designated babysitter tonight and umm I was told well uhhhh,” the man trails off, clearly trying to figure out how to describe whatever is happening to you.

“You were told what?” You ask. Tonight was Bob’s bachelor party. You figured that the squad would be getting into some sort of shenanigans, hence the need for a babysitter. You specifically didn’t ask any questions. You didn’t want to know. You also didn’t want to have to answer questions when you went out for the bachelorette party tomorrow night. So you knew literally nothing about what your husband and his friends were doing. Bob’s wife to be had come over along with Natasha and the three of you spent the evening watching trashy tv shows together while painting your nails and doing face masks to look your best for the tomorrow night. A girls night in before the girls night out. Plus, someone had to stay home with Eli and Radar. Jake’s on kids duty tomorrow.

The three of you ended up going to bed around midnight, way past your normal bedtime. Natasha passed out first on your couch before you lead Bob’s girl upstairs to the guest bedroom. Usually you try to go to bed at the same time as your son, you feel like you should have tonight since you knew he’d be up at 5 just like normal, only you would be the one getting up with him instead of Jake. You were not looking forward to that. Damn your husband for his early morning runs. You wish you would have taken Penny up on her offer to watch Eli tonight for you so you could have a stress free night in and a nice morning to sleep in tomorrow so you’re well rested for the fun.

“ Umm, you see, Bob told me earlier that if I uhh couldn’t umm,” the man trails off again. How long does this man expect this conversation to last? You have sleeping to do and you’re moving past being annoyed straight into being pissed off at this man.

You roll your eyes and huff, “Give the phone to Rooster.” You figure Bob’s cousin wouldn’t know who Bradley was if you used his real name. Bradley’s the easiest to distinguish from everyone else. Easy to spot.

“I don’t remember which one that is,” the man replies. Of course he didn’t. That would have been too easy for you.

You sigh, why did it have to be your husband doing something dumb, “Hawaiian shirt.”

“He’s drunk.” At a bachelor party? Shocking. You would have never guessed. You’re gonna lose it on this man. You really are.

“Yeah, I’m sure he is. He’ll at least tell me what’s going on without pussyfooting around so please hand the phone to the very tall man with a mustache wearing the obnoxious shirt before I start yelling at you and wake up my baby,” you say, very quickly losing your patience.

“Yes ma’am,” he says before you hear the background noise get louder until you hear Bradley say, “Why are you handing me a phone? I have my phone. It’s not mine!” to Bob’s cousin and then some mumbling.

Finally you hear Bradley say, “Hello?”

“Bradley,” you say.

“Hey! Hangman’s been talking about you! Hey Hangman! It’s your wife! Hi hangman’s wife. How are you? We miss you!” Bradley says, all a little too loudly.

You laugh, “Hi Bradley. I’m good. How are you? Miss you too.”

“I’m so good. I’m having so much fun. Not as much fun as your husband though.”

“How much fun is he having?” You ask.

“So much fun,” Bradley says laughing.

You roll your eyes, at least you’re getting farther than you had with Bob’s cousin. Bradley is at least answering you, “What’s he doing? Where are you guys?”

“He’s dancing on the stripper pole! Very badly. He’s bad at this. I’m sorry your husband can’t dance. I’ll teach him if you want. I’m surprised Coyote’s best friend is this bad at dancing,” Bradley says. You’re starting to hear a slur to his voice.

“It’s okay. He’s usually better when he’s not drunk like that,” you explain.

“He’s really, really drunk, me too, but he’s like bad really drunk. If he spins much more he’s gonna throw up. Gross. I don’t want to see that. We should have someone come get him,” Bradley says then you hear him gasp, “I should call his wife! She’ll come get him.”

You shake your head as you listen to him and wonder exactly how much alcohol is in his system, “I’ll come get him.”

“Oh my God did I call you with my mind?! I don’t remember calling you! I’m magic! I knew it!” Bradley says, excitedly.

“Sure Bradley, you’re magic. I need you to text me where you are so I can come get him, okay?” You ask.

“Okay. I gotta use my phone. This isn’t my phone. I don’t even know whose it is. The background is you and your son. Weird. That’s creepy. Honey, I think you have a stalker. I’ll protect you. Don’t worry. Nobody will get you or Eli on my watch. Uncle Rooster will protect you both!”

“My hero,” you say and yawn again. “Okay, Bradley take out your phone.”

You hear shuffling and then hear, “Okay. Done.”

“Good job. Now I need you to share your location with me.”

You hear a few taps then receive a notification from his phone then hear, “Boom! Crushed it!”

You laugh then smile, “Perfect. You did so good, Bradley. So proud. I’ll see you soon, okay? Don’t leave, none of you, until I get there. That poor man Bob put in charge did not sound like he had you all under control. Lord knows you’re all a handful and a half. Bye Bradley.”

“Bye bye!”

You hang up and stretch your arms over your head. This isn’t what you wanted to be doing. You wanted to sleep. You don’t want to go to a strip club to corral a group of drunk men, including your husband, and get them all to leave. This wasn’t your job. You weren’t on Dagger duty, and yet, here you were pulling on a pair of sweatpants and throwing on a sweatshirt to get in the car. Why wasn’t Pete babysitting? Unless he’s also there and drunk off his ass. Or maybe he’s sick of them after being with them all week and instead stayed home for some peace and quiet. Smart man.

You tiptoe into the guest bedroom and quickly but quietly wake the soon to be Mrs. Floyd to let her know what was happening. You couldn’t see well in the dark but you’re sure she rolled her eyes at the situation then held her hand out for the baby monitor. Thank goodness for friends who get it. You handed it to her with a quiet, “Thanks, I’ll be back soon! Hopefully.” before you quietly went down the stairs and slipped your feet into some flip flops.

You just grabbed your keys and wallet and stuck them in your hoodie pocket along with your phone. It felt weird not taking a diaper bag with you for once. You quietly went into your garage and open the door to get your car out. You really hope the noise doesn’t wake up Eli or Natasha who had still been snoring on the couch. You grab some water bottles from the garage fridge and toss them onto the front passenger seat as you get in your car and soon you’re on your way to the strip club. Thankfully it was only about 15 minutes from your house so it doesn’t take long for you to get there.

You park your car and climb out then head to the door. The bouncer looks at you funny but doesn’t question you as you hand him your ID. He checks it and hands it back as he tells you to have fun. You roll your eyes. Does it look like you’re there to have fun? You’re pretty sure your hair is a mess and you might even have pillow marks on your face still. If anything he probably thought you were some jealous wife coming down here in a blaze of fury but that’s not the case at all. You have no problem with strip clubs. You couldn’t care less that your husband is here. These women and some men potentially are just doing their job. Your only problem is you’re here when you want to be fast asleep. You’re pretty sure if the guys don’t immediately listen to you that the party is over that you’re going to have a full on temper tantrum. You’ve watched your toddler have enough of them so you’re basically an expert.

You look around and don’t find anyone who looks familiar. You spot a waitress and quickly walk over to her and ask where a bachelor party might be. She points you towards the VIP room and you thank her before heading in that direction.

There’s another bouncer in front of the door who stops you before you can enter and you just sigh, “Listen, you close in like a half an hour. It’s probably going to take me that long to round up all those guys in there and convince them it’s time to go home. Do you want to deal with their drunk asses and it take you three times as long for you to get them to listen or do you want me to do it and I’ll have them outta here in no time? Because if you want to then by all means go ahead. I’ll go back home and go back to sleep. My son is going to be up in like three hours. If you don’t want to then I’m gonna need you to let me through so I can collect them. I promise you I know them all. This is Robert Floyd’s bachelor party.”

The bouncer nods and holds the door open for you, “Yes ma’am. I apologize ma’am.”

You nod at him and walk in to a mess. There are guys everywhere. A couple you don’t know. One very scared looking man by the small bar. You assume that’s Bob’s cousin. You head over to the bartender, completely ignoring Bob’s cousin, and ask them to turn the room’s music off which they do as you stand on a chair you find. Once the musics off, immediately you hear a bunch of groans and hey’s and you roll your eyes. Whiny babies.

“Hey!” You yell to get their attention.

They all turn to look at you and you take the site in. Bob has a bra hanging from his neck and lipstick kisses on his cheek, you quickly take out your phone and snap a couple shots of that. Bradley’s Hawaiian shirt is inside out. Your husband is holding onto a stripper pole leaning backwards, couple pictures of that one too. Javy was getting a lap dance but the stripper stopped when you yelled, picture of that. Mickey was on Rueben’s back for some very odd reason, picture of that one. Logan and Billy were seated on a couch, double fisting some beers. And both Brigham and Neil have their heads down at the bar and you took a picture of that too. The men you don’t know were all scattered about amongst the others. You honestly expected worse but it didn’t sound like Bob’s cousin could handle anything worse.

When the men all see you there are excited shouts.

“Hangman! That’s your wife!”

“Baby!”

“Mom’s here!” (That one made you roll your eyes but you’re not surprised)

“Oh no! We got caught!”

“I know you!” (Yes Logan, you two have met many times.)

You shake your head at the lot of them.

You put a single finger to your lips until they all quiet down, “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to do this step by step.”

The men all nod at you. Good. You didn’t feel like dealing with any defiant little assholes.

“First! Whatever dollar bills you brought with you for tonight need to be given to the nice ladies who took their clothes off for you. And you’re going to thank them for their time. Bob give back the bra.”

Bob immediately blushed bright red and the men all proceeded to follow your directions, even making sure to thank them. One man walked up to you and held his money out and you shook your head, “Not me you dumbass.” You pointed him towards one of the strippers and sighed, these guys are going to have to make it up to you. You’re taking an extra long nap tomorrow and someone had been watch your son. You feel something around your waist and look down to see your husband has wrapped his arms around you.

“Good job, now number two, you’re going to all cash out at the bar. Get your cards back. We’re not leaving our credit cards here. Make sure you tip,” you say gesturing to the bar.

Jake reluctantly lets you go before following your directions. This step takes them all a while and you end up sitting down on the chair until the bartender gives you a thumbs up and Jake is back to standing as close to you as he possibly can.

You stand back up and your husband wraps his arms back around you, “Okay third step, look around you for trash. If there are cups take them to the bar-“

The bartender interrupts you, “We can handle that. Don’t worry. It’s our job.” You shoot him a glare and he immediately holds his hands up in surrender and says sorry.

“- Like I was saying, if there are cups take them to the bar. If there’s trash there’s a trash can in the corner. We aren’t leaving this place a mess.”

The men all get to work quickly and it doesn’t take long before everything is picked up and vaguely looking clean. To get Jake to listen this time you had to push him off you and point at some trash before he sighed and picked it up and threw it away then returned to his spot.

“Fourth step, make sure you have your wallet, phone, and keys and/or anything else you brought with you. Like a sweatshirt or a hat.”

Everyone immediately starts patting their pockets and nodding. You tap Jake’s shoulder to get him to let go then sit back down and turn to Bob’s cousin, “What was the plan for afterwards. Are they going somewhere? Is there a way to get them to wherever?”

Bob’s cousin shrugged, “We rented a limo to get here and I think the plan was to Uber back to wherever you were staying for the night.”

You shake your head at him, “You think or you know? You’re the worst babysitter. You should know the plan.”

Bob’s cousin hangs his head and apologizes.

You look around before finding Bob and quickly yell his name, gesturing for him to come over to you.

“Hi, Mzzz Hangman. Whass zup?” He says slurring this words.

“What are you doing after this?” You ask.

He scrunches his face for a minute or so before going, “Oh! Theresssa limo to take us to tha hotel and then we go to sleep and then brunch and then more sleep at homes.”

You laugh listening to him, “Thanks. Knew I could count on you.”

Bob beams at the praise.

You stand back up, once again Jake holds onto your legs, “Fifth step, nicely walk out to the limo and get in to go back to the hotel. Mr. Competent over here,” you point to Bob’s cousin, “Will give you further instructions when you accomplish that. I better get a good report for him or I’m gonna be mad at you all!”

That ones followed by most of the men saying a quick, “Yes ma’am.” before they started their journey to the parking lot.

You stop at the little bar and leave Bob’s phone number with them in case anything gets left behind.

You follow after the others and stop at the limo to make sure they’re all accounted for, which they are, except one. You look over at your car and see Jake leaning against it with his hands in his pockets.

You turn to Bob’s cousin, “Do not lose them. Have them drink water. Get them straight to their rooms. They should all pass out. I’m taking mine with me so you have one less. You’re lucky.” You turn to the others, “Be good! I want a good report saying you were on your best behavior!” You’re answered with a bunch of giggles as you pat the top of the limo and shut the door.

You unlock your car and watch Jake scramble into the passenger seat. You laugh and walk over, getting into the driver seat, “Did you think I wouldn’t let you come home?”

He shook his head and pouts, “I don’t wanna play with my friends anymore. I want my wife. I want to sleep in my own bed. I want my puppy. I want my baby.”

You laugh and lean over to kiss his cheek, “My poor, sweet husband, forced to go out and spend time with his friends. Didn’t have any fun. Definitely didn’t enjoy getting drunk and seeing mostly naked women.”

His mouth breaks out into a goofy grin, “That was nice but I would much rather see you mostly naked because then I could just make you the rest of the way naked.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Okay, let’s go home. If you want your baby so much you can get up with him.”

Jake perks up, “I can?! I miss him! We’re gonna play so much!”

“You say that now. When he wakes up in two and a half hours you’re going to be so sleepy,” you say as you start the car and start driving home.

Jake shrugs, “Worth it. I’m sleeping with the baby monitor. I’m getting up with my baby. I don’t care what sleepy Jake says. I promise I’m getting up.”

And surprisingly that’s exactly what sleepy Jake did in three hours when your son woke up. How nice of him to sleep in a half hour.

The bachelorette party

[moni-logues]

Even Though

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Genre: friends/FWB(?)-to-lovers, smut

Summary: Hoseok comes running every time you call, even though he knows you don't want the same things. Unless, of course... you do?

Word count: 7.4k

Content: alcohol consumption/drunkenness, oral sex (m. and f. receiving inc. deepthroat and face-sitting), unprotected sex

A/N: It's almost Hobi's birthday, so have a repost because I won't be writing a new fic for it lmaooooo! This one has had a bit of an edit and I think is much improved for it tbh; I was always quite fond of this one (esp for having written it in one sitting between midnight at 2:30am lmao) but I've added a few bits and changed the ending so it feels a little more ~realistic I guess. I've also (I hope) knocked out the bajillion typos that I had left in it before whoops! anyway, enjoy!

* * *

You turned, huddled into a corner of the club, carefully cradling your phone against your cheek as if that would, in any way, block out the noise. The voice at the other end was quiet, groggy.

“Hello?” 

“Hoseok?!” you shouted into your phone. “Hoseokieeee! Can you hear me?”

“y/n? Are you ok?”

“No! I miss you! I miss you so much! I wish you were here; no one else is any fun. Can you come out, please? Come out and playyyyy.” 

You swayed on your feet and had to brace yourself against the wall with one hand, staring pointedly at a chip in the paint, studiously focusing on it, trying to get it to stop swimming in front of you, doubling and twisting before your eyes. 

“y/n, I was sleeping-”

“No! No sleeping! Come and play with me, Hoseok; I want to play.”

“How drunk are you?”

“Hardly,” you said with a snort, almost tripping over your own feet. “I’m basically fine, actually. I don’t even really feel drunk anymore.”

“Are you with people? Who are you out with?”

“I’m at work!”

“No, who are you out with?”

“Work! I’m at work with club at the people.”

“You’re at a club with people from work.”

“That’s what I said. But I don’t care about them... I just want you. I miss you. I want you. Please come out. Please, pretty please a thousand times.”

“Is someone looking after you?”

“Noooo. No one looks after me like you do. You’re the only one. You’re my favourite. Of all everyone, you’re my best one.”

You didn’t hear him sigh, didn’t see him rub his face with his free hand, staring up at the ceiling, facing off with the inevitable. He would come and get you. Of course, he would. That’s what he did. He’d come and get you and take you home and tuck you up in bed and leave water and painkillers on your bedside table and you’d tell him how much you love him and how much you miss him and you’d list everything you like about him and then you’d pass out and wake up in the morning and say you couldn’t remember what you said the night before. The texts would be right there in your phone but no one would mention them. Hoseok didn’t know if your amnesia was real or feigned but it didn’t really matter either way. 

He knew this is what would happen, and he knew that it would slice through his heart like a knife, but he agreed to come and pick you up anyway. Like always.

* * *

“Hoseok-y! Ho-socky and mittens! My yang-mal and jang-gab-yyy. You came!” 

You stumbled over to his car and made grabby motions at him through the open window. He got out and walked to the passenger side, opening the door for you and helping you in. You grabbed at his jumper and pulled his face close to yours. You sprinkled kisses all over his face as he tried to extricate himself from your clutches and return to the driver’s side. 

“-ease please please please please,” you were saying as he sat down, shut the door, and buckled his seatbelt.

“Hm? What do you want?”

“I want to kiss you, please!”

You took his hand in yours and kissed the back of it with a loud, noisy smack.

“Not while I’m driving.” 

“Plleeeeaaassse,” you insisted, leaning in as close to him as you can. “If I ask really, really nicely?”

“Not while I’m driving, ok? It’s dangerous.”

You groaned, frustrated, and threw your hands in the air. The world whipping by so quickly outside made you feel dizzy and then, suddenly, tired. The kind of drunken tiredness that was like an unexpectedly strong wave that knocks you into the sea, pulls you under. If you didn’t lie down now, immediately, you thought you would pass out. So you fumbled down the side of the seat for the lever to adjust the angle and flew back with an anguished wail when it tipped all the way backwards. 

“Are you ok?” Hoseok asked, eyes flicking briefly in your direction before returning to the road.

You were kicking your feet in the air, pressing your shoes against the roof of the car. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” he said softly, tapping your leg gently, encouraging them down.

Hoseok was just glad you weren’t trying to kiss him anymore. 

* * *

“Daisy, daisy, give me your answer, dooo,” you sang, with little consideration for your neighbours, as Hoseok half-carried you to your front door. “I’m half-crazy all for the love of you!” 

He carefully propped you up as he unlocked your door and helped you inside. As he shut the door, you took his face in your hands and continued.

“It won’t be a styyyyylish marriage! I can’t afford a carriage-”

A squeak interrupted your song as he lifted you, carrying you to your bed.

“But you’d look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle made for two! 

“Have we ever gone bicycling, Seoky? Can I ride a bike? I think so... I don’t own one, though, but we can rent them, right?”

You blathered on as he took off your socks and pulled the clips out of your hair and hung up your jacket.

“Come here, please!” you called for him as he brought you a stack of reusable cotton pads and your make-up remover. You took both from him and chucked them on the bed, then pulled him down next to you.

“I love you,” you cooed, rubbing your nose against his. “I love you I love you I love you.” 

You flopped back, head against the pillow, and dragged him with you. 

“I think you are the most best, probab- Stop it! Stop it!” You swatted at his hands as he tried to wipe your make-up off for you. “I don’t want you to do that. I want you to kiss me, please.” 

He turned his head as you reached for him and you kissed his cheek and his temple and his brow bone. 

“Hoseok-y, why don’t you want to kiss me?” You were whiny and pouting and your big, shining eyes were boring into him.

“You’re drunk, love.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“But I still want to kiss you!”

He gently, but firmly, took your hands from his face and held them by your side. 

“If you want to kiss me that badly, you can wait eight hours and kiss m-”

“Eight hours?! No, I can’t wait eight hours! I can’t wait even eight whole seconds!” 

He wished more than anything that you weren’t drunk. He wished that you would be sober, sober and still this keen, still this loving. He knew wishes didn’t come true. 

You sighed, growling at the end, frustrated and pouting and pretending to be angry. But you did, at least, stop trying to kiss him.

“I just love you, that’s all,” you said, as he lay down next to you.

You turned on your side and pressed your finger against his bottom lip, flipping it up and down. 

“My name’s Hoseok,” you said, as if he were your ventriloquist dummy. “And I’m so pretty and I’m so smart and I’m so kind and I’m the best person in the world but I won’t let my girlfriend kiss m-”

Girlfriend. There was that word again. You wouldn’t dare utter it sober, and nor would he. He distinctly remembered the time he tried to get you to agree to a ‘date’ and how badly that went, so he wouldn’t dream of even thinking that word in your presence. But this wasn’t the first time you’d drunkenly referred to yourself as his girlfriend. Which was what made this all the more difficult for him. Somewhere, in whatever walled-off section of your mind (and heart), you were his; you were his girlfriend and you loved him and you were willing to let him love you. And the key to this little cage was, apparently, copious amounts of alcohol. So, you went out and you drank too much and you called him up and he came running because he loved that you need him, loved that he was the one you called even in the middle of the night. And you called yourself his girlfriend and he pretended for five minutes that it might really happen. 

“Just go to sleep, ok?” he said softly, tucking your hair behind your ear, pulling the covers up over you. 

“Not if you’re going to leave me.”

“No, I’ll stay. I’ll stay here.”

“Good.” 

You waited for him to lie down and then flung your limbs over him, holding him close to you, fisting his T-shirt. He kissed the top of your head and waited for you to pass out. 

* * *

You woke, in the morning (later that same morning), thick-headed and dry-mouthed. You chugged the glass of water Hoseok left on your bedside table, finishing it before you could reach for the painkillers, which you opted to dry-swallow and then immediately regretted doing. You unlocked your phone and grimaced as you noticed the time: it was 7am, which meant you’d been asleep for all of three hours. You felt ghastly but, somehow, also wide awake. You scrolled through your phone, looking through your fingers at the messages you sent last night. There were so many. 

You: Hoseeereeokkkkjjyyyy.

You: are ayou sleep?

You: I msiss you so mchu. I wish you wer hreeeeee. 

You: if u coome, I wlll love youf roever. 

You felt movement from the other side of the bed and rolled over, away from the embarrassment of your phone, to see Hoseok standing up. You watched him as he put his phone in his pocket, ran a hand through his hair once, twice, then turned around.

“Oh, you’re awake.” 

“Catching you in the disappearing act this time.” 

You sounded annoyed, but you weren’t really sure why. Just hungover. Probably.

He smiled and you wondered why he looked so shy. He was usually gone before you woke up, at least these days. Maybe he actually was embarrassed to be caught running out on you. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

You shrugged. 

“Like I drank an entire bar and then had three hours’ sleep.” 

“You should sleep it off; it’s still early.” 

You didn’t know what compelled you to ask, didn’t know why now was the time, but you didn’t have the capacity to filter your thoughts from your mouth.

“What’s the point of you staying if you always run off so early?” 

He blinked, taken aback. He replied slowly, hesitantly, almost reluctantly.

“You don’t like it when I overstay my welcome.” 

It was such a specific turn of phrase, you could hear a bell ringing distantly in your brain, as if you’d had this conversation before – though, if you had, you didn’t remember having it. 

“You don’t have to get up at the crack of dawn, though, just to get away from me. You can sleep in; you were also up at 4am so I’m hardly going to kick you out at 7.”

You thought he looked as if he was biting something back; his face was heavy with all the things he wasn't saying and you felt frustration settling on you, slowly taking the reins. 

“I don’t know why you bother, to be honest,” you told him, your lack of sleep and excess of booze making you sound meaner than you really intended. “Why get up, pick me up, take care of me and then just disappear? What’s in it for you if you don’t even stay for breakfast?”

“Well, it’s the only time you’re ever really nice to me, so...”

It hit you like a slap in the face.

“What?”

“What?” he threw back. 

“What do you mean it’s the only time I’m ever nice to you?”

“You and I both know what I mean. Take a look at your phone if you’re confused.” 

He turned and, after a second’s pause, started to walk out of the room.

“Hey!” you called after him. “You can’t just say that and leave! Come back here!”

He looked at you from the door and you almost didn’t recognise him; you realised you’d never seen him angry.

“What do you want me to say? We both know what this is. This...”

He floundered, looking for a word, betraying the fact that, actually, neither of you knew what this was, what had become of you.

“I want more than you will ever want; that’s a fact. I want what you can’t or won’t give me. I made my peace with that. But then you call me in the middle of the night and you tell me that you want me and need me and that you miss me and you love me and I come running every time because I know you will never say that to me sober, will never look at me in the cold light of day in the same way you look at me in the small hours of the morning. Maybe I shouldn’t. In fact, I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. That’s what I mean.”

Without another word – not that you could’ve managed one anyway – he turned on his heel and you heard the front door slam shut. 

He wasn’t wrong. You knew. You didn’t want to know but you knew. It had always been complicated between the two of you. 

* * *

A mutual friend introduced you because he thought you would like each other and he wasn’t wrong. But you hadn’t expected him to be so right; you were entirely unprepared for Hoseok. Entirely unprepared for the most perfect man to just waltz into your life and lay himself at your feet. You weren’t ready for that. You thought you would meet a guy who was basically fine (hopefully a little better than fine); a guy who would be fun for a few dates, good for a casual sort of arrangement, nothing serious. You thought you could see this guy and continue to sow your wild oats elsewhere. But Hoseok was different. 

You hit it off immediately. Yoongi introduced you at a party and you instantly connected, forgetting anyone else was there, talking all night. Drinking, too. When he offered to walk you home, you knew you would offer him a nightcap in your apartment. He knew he would accept if you did. Your memories of that night were slightly hazy but you knew the sex had been good because you had sent almost everyone you knew a message that was simply five mind-blown emojis. 

Hoseok had a party the following week and you were invited. He had been a perfect host and you had spent hours, desperately frustrated, trying to convince him to forget about all his guests and come rail you in his bedroom. By the time everyone else had left and he could finally give you his undivided attention, you had sobered up and your memories of that night are crystal clear. You had sent your best friend a text that read ‘I will never sleep with another man ever again’.

That was not a vow you kept. 

Hoseok was kind and caring and considerate in a way no one had ever really been with you before. It almost began to annoy you, the way he took care of you, looked out for you, thought of you when he passed something in a shop window. You had begun to feel claustrophobic in his affections; this wasn’t supposed to be a relationship. He wasn’t supposed to like you or, heaven forbid, fall in love with you. 

Your ‘dates’ had been casual up to that point because you had forced them to be. You would swing by his apartment after dinner with your friends or invite him over to yours when you had no plans for the weekend. When he had asked you, finally, to go on a real date with him, out to dinner somewhere, your response had been ‘why would we do that?’. That was when things had started crumbling. 

He had insisted you could keep it casual and still go out to eat together. He had insisted that it didn’t matter what it was called and, if you didn’t want to call it a date, he wouldn’t call it a date; he just wanted to spend more time with you. You had called your mutual friend and given him an earful for introducing you; you had got several earfuls back. Hoseok dropped the subject. 

Then he had started talking about a weekend away, going into the country, getting a cabin or something, going swimming in the lake and walking up the hills and stuff that all sounded far too romantic to you. You had asked him why the hell he kept insisting on treating you like you were his girlfriend. You had told him repeatedly and emphatically throughout that conversation that you were not his girlfriend. You kept telling him that you were friends and he kept telling you that he doesn’t fuck his friends like that. You told him maybe he should so he might lighten up a bit. 

You stopped sleeping together after that. Mostly. Kind of. You hung out more often and you thought that maybe you had been right, maybe you were just friends and you told yourself that this was probably the ideal outcome. But a few weeks later, at another party, you had both got drunk and immediately sought each other out across the crowded room and left without so much as saying goodbye. You tumbled into bed and you cursed yourself for ever giving this up, for ever thinking you could go without him. Until the morning came anyway. 

This happened a few more times and, each time, you grew colder and more distant in the morning. Hoseok wasn’t stupid and it wasn't as if he thought you would magically change your mind about dating him if only you had sex just one more time, one more time, but he wasn’t expecting you to behave the way you did. He had asked if you could at the very least not be rude to him, and you had shot back that overstaying one’s welcome was also considered rude and maybe he should think about that. He decided he wouldn’t sleep with you again.

It happened a few more times after that, too. Then he decided to give up drinking around you. It would’ve been easier to just cut you out, take you out of his life completely, but he was too far gone to do that. He would walk over hot coals for you; he knew it and so did you. 

* * *

You woke again much later that morning and thought about what Hoseok had said. You dialled Yoongi’s number.

“On a scale of 1-10,” you began as soon as he picked up the phone, not even bothering with a greeting, “how much of a dick am I to Hoseok?”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Please just answer the question.”

“Ok, well, what’s included on the scale? Does the worst include like, violence and murder?”

“No! Obviously not. Just like, for normal friends, scale of 1-10, how badly do I treat him?”

“Is 10 the worst?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, then 10.”

“What?!” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Everyone knows. You know.”

“I’m not that bad, surely.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Well then why haven’t you done anything? Why would you let your friend treat your other friend like that?”

“Well, firstly, because I don’t actually control you. Secondly, you may recall that we have spoken about this on a number of occasions and I have always made it very clear that you are being a dick and you are hurting his feelings and always told you that you need to stop dicking him about. But like I said, I don’t control you. And I don’t control him, either. I have also had numerous conversations with him about you and I have told him he deserves better-”

“Hey!”

“Are you seriously trying to argue with that?” 

“Well-”

“Exactly. I don’t know what answer you wanted from me but, of course, the answer is 10. On a scale of 1-10, you absolutely treat him the worst.”

“Surely he takes some responsibility for it at this point.”

Yoongi interrupted you before you could say more.

“Don’t you dare go there. You are my friend and I am saying this because I do actually value you as a person and, this aside, I do think you’re a decent person: you are treating him like a cunt and he deserves better and, if you were anyone else in the world, I would’ve cut him off from you months ago and literally kept him under lock and key to keep him away from you if that’s what it would’ve taken. 

“That said, I’m glad you’re asking the question. I hope this means you’re actually giving it some thought? You’re actually considering his feelings now? Considering your own, maybe?”

“What do you mean my own?”

“Your own feelings for him.”

“I don’t have feelings.” 

Yoongi hummed non-committally and you could almost hear his eyes rolling through the phone.

“Well, anyway, let me repeat one more time for the record that you are a total dick to Hoseok and you should treat him better.”

“Thanks very much.”

“You’re welcome!” he rang off brightly, ignoring the sarcasm of your comment. 

* * *

You were grumpy and hungover and tired and feeling unsettled, disturbed. It had been some time since you and Hoseok had discussed anything to do with... whatever it was that you were or had been or wanted to be, and it always made you uncomfortable. You did know, really, deep down, somewhere you tried not to look, that you were treating him badly, and on days when the hangover anxiety was at its worst, you felt sick with guilt about it. But you also felt sick at the thought of more. He wanted so much of you. More than you felt you had to give. He saw things in you that you were sure just weren’t there. And you didn’t want him to see the things you kept hidden, the dark things, the bad things, the things that would make him turn and run for the hills if he knew. He was too good for you and it scared you and it hurt you and you chose, simply, not to address it. To run away from it as far as you possibly could, which, when you’d had a drink or six, was not very far at all.

You showered to try to wash the discomfort away; you stuffed yourself full to try to distract yourself from the anxiety in your guts; you, briefly, considered drinking again but the thought brought bile to your throat. You stared, unseeing, at the TV, ostensibly watching a drama, but really replaying your own, real-life drama over and over in your head.

You wanted to be reasonable about it but the guilt and embarrassment and anxiety curdling in your gut made you feel sick and you couldn’t face it, so you chose not to be reasonable. You kept butting your head up against the fact that, if he really hated it that much, he could just not answer your calls. Sure, you could stop calling him, but you only did it when you’re drunk and who had that level of self-control after that many drinks? He didn’t have to come and get you; he didn’t have to walk you into your apartment; he didn’t have to put you to bed. He did all of that on his own. And maybe if he actually slept with you, it might've made a difference...

You tossed that thought aside because you knew both that it wasn't true and that you would not want to be anywhere near someone who would soberly fuck anyone even close to as drunk as you usually got. Hoseok was not that guy. 

The more you thought about it, the more annoyed you got. You knew that you couldn’t really think straight; you were not at your best right now, but you were annoyed. You were annoyed that you had to be tired and hungover and thinking about this. Why couldn’t he just keep it simple for you both and leave you alone? Or, at least, ignore you when you didn’t leave him alone? You felt like he was making his feelings your problem. And you were done with it.

* * *

You stood outside his door, hesitating. The taxi ride over had taken just long enough that your immediate anger was subsiding and a tiny part of your rational brain was waking up again. Then you thought about the texts you sent him last night and were so embarrassed at yourself that you needed to feel something else: guilt, shame, anxiety, anything would do. You hammered at the door. 

Hoseok opened it and looked surprised to see you, but nevertheless stepped back to let you in. 

“What’s up?” he asked. 

“We’re finishing this,” you told him and he looked at you blankly. “We’re finishing this now.”

“What do you mean? Finishing what?”

“This!” 

You gestured frantically between the two of you.

“I’m fucking sick of this!” you cried. “You want me so fucking badly? Then why don’t you do something about it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying do something! I’m not drunk anymore! Why don’t you do something?” 

“Listen to what you’re suggesting. We’ve done that. And it’s ended up with us here. How do you think doing it again is going to lead somewhere different?”

You opened your mouth to argue but he wasn't finished.

“Besides which, I don’t want to just ‘do something’. That’s the whole problem. We’re in this because I want more than just something, I want more than just sex and you don’t. And when I made it clear to you that I wanted more, you ran for the fucking hills. Before you came running back, that is.”

You were surprised because he’d never argued with you like this before. You realised, with a lurch, that he’d never been angry with you before. You couldn’t put a name to what it made you feel; you were too busy swimming with frustration and anxiety and anger to be able to think clearly. You just knew that this was different so, maybe, this was good. 

“And why do you let me back, then? If I’m so awful and I treat you like such shit, why do you pick up?”

“I already told you. And you don’t need to tell me I’ve lost my fucking dignity and pride; you don’t need to tell me that I should be better than that, that I shouldn’t be begging at your table for scraps. I already know. Trust me, no one is as sickened by me as I am.”

“Sickened? Wanting me sickens you, does it? I sicken you, do I?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fuck you, Hoseok.” 

You stalked closer to him, stuck a finger hard against his chest.

“Fuck you for putting that on me,” you spat. 

The world held its breath for one second and, the next, you were tangled up in each other, his mouth finally on yours again, his hands against your skin, yours in his hair. He lifted your T-shirt over your head and you sighed as his fingers grazed your nipple, quickly teasing it to a tight bud. You pushed down his trousers and he stepped out of them, pushing you backwards until your legs hit the sofa. He ripped off his own top before guiding you down until you were lying on the sofa with Hoseok at your feet, tugging on your jogging bottoms. You tilted your hips to allow him to pull them off and he brought his hands up to relieve you of your underwear. 

His eyes were black, darker than you’d ever seen them and he looked at you like you were in trouble, like he was imagining all the things he could do to you. You gulped and arousal pooled in your core; you were suddenly desperate for him, clawing at him until his mouth was on yours so you could taste him one more time. You palmed him through his boxers and he groaned into your mouth, swearing softly as he pulled away.

You were tingling all over with anticipation as he trailed kisses down your neck and onto your chest. He licked a broad strip across the mound of your breast and bit down hard on your soft flesh. You whimpered and arched your back into him, urging for more. He clamped his teeth around your nipple and sucked, rubbing his tongue over the stiff nub and you shivered.

“Oh god,” you whispered. You had forgotten it was this good. 

“Touch me, please,” you asked quietly. You didn’t want to break whatever spell was over you, but you were aching with a desire so strong, it almost hurt. And you knew how much he liked to hear you beg. “Please, Hoseok, please touch me.”

“Why should I give you what you want?” he asked, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes, his mouth slack, breathing heavy, voice rough. “When do I get what I want, huh?”

“Anything. I’ll do anything, please.”

If you had both been thinking with your brains, you would both have known this was not true. Your brains were, however, otherwise indisposed.

Hoseok sat back on his knees, looking at you, a small smirk at the corner of his mouth. He stood, briefly, to discard his boxers and then he looked down at you, slowly pumping the thick length of his hot, stiff cock.

You were on your knees in an instant, replacing his hand with your own. You brought your open mouth to his tip, softly licking across his slit, keeping your eyes on his as you wrapped your lips around him and sank slowly, slowly down his shaft. He grunted when he hit the back of your throat and outright moaned when you kept going.

“God, I’ve missed this mouth,” he said, his voice tight and gruff. He gripped your hair with one hand and slowly pulled you back. Then he kept your head still as he thrust back in, still slowly at first, gentle almost, and then, when you moaned around him, faster, and then harder when your fingernails dug into his thighs. His eyes never left yours, even though yours were swimming with tears and he was no more than a blur above you. He was always looking at you. Until his eyes fluttered closed and you knew he was close to coming, could see it when his eyes opened again, piercing in their intensity; you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you tapped his leg, signalling him to stop. 

He fell from you in an instant and you pushed him onto the sofa.

“Don’t think you’re the only one who gets to have their fun,” you told him.

You pushed him back until he was lying and you pinned him down with your knees either side of his head. He was impatient, wrapping his arms around your legs and pulling you down to him, your core wet and dripping over his mouth. He looked at you, making sure your eyes met as licked through your folds.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “I forgot just how wet you get. I’m going to fucking drown in you." 

He licked into your centre, drinking you in, taking you for everything you’d got while you rolled your hips against him, rubbing your clit against his nose, desperate for contact, for friction. You heard him chuckle low in his throat and you whimpered.

He was impatient to get started but he liked to take his time with you. He wanted you to beg: beg him to start, beg him to keep going, beg him to finish you off. He licked languidly through your folds, he sucked, he nipped, he returned again to fuck you with his tongue, all while you shivered and whined above him, pleasure building in you, urgency mounting. You grabbed his hair with both hands and tried to hold him still so you could direct yourself above him, but he was stronger than you and his arms kept you in place. 

“Hoseok, please. Please, I need to come.”

He hummed against you and you tugged on his hair. 

“Please, please.”

You tried harder to grind against his face, your clit throbbing and burning under the absence of his touch. He held you still. His face was buried in your cunt and you could just see his eyes, glinting at you, watching you fall apart under your desperate need for him. 

“Hoseok,” you panted. “Hoseok, please.” Your voice broke as your desperation peaked, every part of you alert and armed, like tinder just millimetres from a flame. 

He finally sealed his lips around your clit and you went up like a bonfire, ecstasy roaring through you, consuming everything. You were hot and sweating and writhing on top of him as he licked and lapped and sucked at you, pulling sounds out of you that only he could: loud, desperate, animal cries and his name over and over and over again. 

It was only when you let loose his hair and your legs quivered either side of his head that he loosened his own grip on you and you flopped backwards, lying on top of him with your head on his hip. 

“See how good I am to you?” he asked, wiping his mouth, sliding out from underneath you, towering over you once more. 

“Yeah,” you whimpered. You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, so good.”

“But you don’t fucking want me.”

“Yeah, I do. I do, Hoseok, god, I do. Please.” 

He rested his hands against the arm of the sofa above your head and lowered his face to yours.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said low, menacing.

He kissed you lightly and you lifted your head to meet him again but he moved too far off. He knelt over you, his heavy cock resting on your mound, and considered you for a while. This wasn’t usually part of your game and you were impatient, still needy for him, remembering the way he split you open, the glorious stretch of him inside you, the fluidity and power with which he moved. 

“Fuck. What do you want from me?” you asked.

He tipped forward, back over you, hands either side of your head, his face so close, you could barely see him. He moved and kissed you lightly just below the ear.

“Everything.”

He stood and put on his boxers and you were overwhelmed with anger again. 

“For fuck’s sake, seriously?!” you shouted, hitting him with a scatter cushion. “Are you fucking kidding?”

He turned to you, pulling his trousers back up and shrugged.

“No, I’m not kidding. I told you. I want everything. I want you, all of you, even this shitty part of you that treats me like crap, even the part of you that tells me you love me and then pretends to forget all about it in the morning, even the part of you that pretends to be sickened by the very idea of being my girlfriend, despite the fact that you refer to yourself as mine in the dead of night. Even your excessive drinking, even your emotional constipation, even your big, fat heart that you try to hide from everyone, even your insistence that you don’t give a shit despite giving a hell of a lot of a shit all the damn time, even your stupid fucking determination to do everything by yourself even when you actually need help, even your terrible taste in films and those god-awful reality TV programs you like, even your snoring, even your back turned back against me. All of it. All of you. I fucking want all of you, all the fucking time.” 

You stared breathlessly at him as his chest heaved, his breathing ragged. Your heart was in your throat, blood roaring in your ears. He was waiting for you to say something but you’d lost the ability to speak. Words flew into and out of your head without your being able to catch any of them. You couldn’t think. Your mind was buzzing, static blaring, nothing but white noise. You could only stare at him, bewildered, overwhelmed, utterly naked. 

His breathing slowly settled and he rolled his eyes and turned away from you. 

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath. 

He was walking away from you and you knew you had to stop him. Your brain had no capacity to filter anything on its way to your mouth and you said it before you even really knew you were feeling it.

“I love you. I fucking love you.” 

He turned quickly and watched you, wary, unsure. You didn’t let yourself think anymore. You staggered to your feet and took his hands and pulled him close to you. 

“I fucking love you,” you said again. “I love you, ok? And I'm not drunk this time and fucking fine, if I’m such a piece of shit but you still want me, then fine. Fine. Have me.” 

He was still looking at you, looking into your eyes like he was trying to solve a riddle.

“I’m not fucking with you. I’m not lying. I want you. I want you and have always wanted you and always wanted not to want you as much I do because you’re terrifying. Ever looked directly at the sun? Ever looked at the fucking face of god? ‘Cause I have and it’s you. Ok? It’s you. When I get drunk and I call you and I tell you that I love you, it’s true – that's true. It’s only you I call.” Your skin was hot, flushed, but from embarrassment now, from feeling skinned, raw, exposing yourself in a way that you never did, never wanted to. Your voice broke and you desperately didn’t want to cry, didn’t want this to be more embarrassing than it needed to be, didn’t want him to see how pathetic you really were even as you were telling him. “It’s only you I want. And it’s only when I’m not sober enough to fight myself that I can admit it. I’m a piece of shit and you’re a literal angel, a fucking god, but fine, if you really want to have me, have me. I’m yours.” 

He gently nudged your nose with his and whispered your name, his eyes carefully watching you. Then he kissed you, soft and slow, and wrapped his arms around you. His hands wandered, exploring your body, caressing any part of you he could reach, as his tongue rolled with yours, as you raked your fingers through his hair, as he moaned into your mouth, as he picked you up and took you into the bedroom. 

He lay you gently on the bed and slipped off his clothes once more. He covered your body with his and pressed kisses into your neck. Then he bit down and you keened, arching your back into him, suddenly violently, urgently aware of the slick between your legs, of your fluttering walls, desperate for him now. 

“Please, Hoseok,” you whispered. “Please fuck me, now.”

This was where you were comfortable. No more talking. Just Hoseok with his body over yours, his soft skin and softer lips, his nimble fingers and strong body, his eyes black as pitch as he looked at you like you were prey.

“Gladly,” he whispered back, his lips just grazing yours. 

He pressed himself against your entrance, eyes flicking between your face and your cunt as he watched himself disappear into you and watched your face, lest you betray any sign of pain or discomfort. But there was none. There was only the perfect, overwhelming fullness of him inside you and then the tight drag, feeling every contour of his cock, as he pulled back and thrust in again. 

“God, no one compares to you- fuck...”

He liked to watch your face as you whined and whimpered beneath him when he lifted your legs, pushing against the backs of your thighs, hitting you deeper, harder. You were hot and sticky everywhere; your skin was slick with sweat, your cunt slick with arousal. Every part of you was fit to bursting, coming apart at the seams. You felt like a dam about to break and then he took his hand down between your bodies and pressed hard, the motion of his thrusts knocking his hand until you were crying out for more, much more, crying out that you were close, crying out please, please let me come, let me come. And he did. The flood engulfed you; you were pulled through a riptide of pleasure, unable to scream, unable to breathe, suffocating in the swirling pool of your orgasm. Hoseok kept going, fucking you through your climax until he was coming, too, painting your walls white, falling under the surface of ecstasy with you. 

He fell down next to you and you lay, quiet save for your heavy breathing. When he took your hand in his, you let him, despite the thrum of anxiety in your heart.

“So,” he said, and he looked nervous when you turned towards him.

You were nervous but you’d said it now. And you’d missed him—you had. And Yoongi’s words were ringing in your ears, about your feelings, about how badly you treated Hoseok, and words from much, much longer ago, about how much you’d like him, what a great guy he was, how much Hoseok had liked meeting you, how much he liked you.

He was waiting for you to speak, not daring to go first. You looked down at your joined hands, looked up at the ceiling, looked at his face.

“I’m,” you began, your voice quiet and croaky. You cleared your throat but still didn’t know what words were going to come out. “I’m… I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolled onto his side, facing you, and you took your hand from his so you could use both to cover your face. You gave a frustrated sigh and slapped them onto the mattress on either side of you.

“I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. Not to you.”

“’Not to me’? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing! That’s my whole point!”

You squirmed, embarrassment heating your cheeks again, and ended up on your side, facing him.

“There’s nothing wrong with you and it’s… intimidating. I’m not like that. You said it yourself. There’s a lot wrong with me and-”

“That’s not what I said. I actually think you’re perfect.”

You blinked, stunned into silence.

“But you said all those things.”

“I still think you’re perfect. Even though I said all those things, even though you do snore and even though you have handled this situation in about the worst possible way and even though it’s hurt my feelings. Even though all of it. I still think you’re perfect and I still love you.”

You turned onto your back, staring at the ceiling, blinking away fresh tears.

“I think you’re crazy,” you told him.

“There you go; there is something wrong with me after all.”

He leant over you and cupped your cheek with his hand. When he kissed you, it was soft and sweet and it wasn’t going to go anywhere—nor did you need it to.

“I don’t want to get it wrong,” you whispered to him, his face still close to yours, his breath fanning over your face.

He shrugged lightly.

“It’s ok if you do. We can’t be right all the time.”

“You’ll still love me?”

“Yes. After all this, I still love you. I’ve tried not to, I promise. So, yes, I will still love you if you get it wrong. As long as you love me.”

“I do.” You wanted to say it back, felt it stick in your throat. You swallowed hard, blinked slowly, took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

He kissed you again, still soft, still gentle, and then settled back on his side.

“So…”

“So?”

“So can I actually call you my girlfriend now?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and couldn’t stop the little thrill in your heart or grin on your lips.

“I guess, if you must.”

He grinned back at you, wide, beaming.

“Yes, I fucking must!”

You thought that sounded just fine.

[feliciasharpclaws]

✯ 𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻

call it what you want | a. leclerc

arthur leclerc x fem! american actress! oc!

faceclaim: lola tung

a/n: hi :) english is not my first language, it's actually spanish, so there are most likely spelling errors. also, this was completly rewritten, i had already posted another 2 parts of basically the same story but i never wrote the part 3. so i rewrite it and i really hope you like it.

warnings: spelling mistakes, intentional lowercase

a while ago, adeline summers was the darling of the silver screen, adored and admired by fans all across the globe. however, her blissful stardom crashed down like a castle of cards when she ended things with her popular boyfriend, who was also an actor. she was soon the subject of crude internet drama and hated by all faces of social media. driven to despair by the constant hate and backlash, she decided to take a break from the spotlight. she slipped away unnoticed one night, leaving behind the world of glam and paparazzi, to find peace and solace in the unseen corners of the world. adeline found herself in monaco, a warm haven tucked away from the hustle-bustle. she spent her days strolling along the coastline, reading books, avoiding any forms of media, and getting lost in the magnificence of the endless azure. she was healing, slowly perhaps, but surely.

one afternoon, while she was quietly sitting on a park bench, a guy approached her. dressed in casual attire, there was a serenity about him that immediately caught adeline's attention. the guy, who introduced himself as arthur, was also escaping the prying eyes of society. arthur was a formula 2 driver, whose love-life had become a free-for-all, as his relationship with his current ex-girlfriend had ended on bad terms. burnt out by the media's relentless scrutiny and rumor-mongering, he found solace in solitude, just like adeline. it was refreshing for both of them to find someone who understood their plight.

after a few friendly encounters in monaco, arthur suggested that they take a spontaneous trip to lake como in italy. hesitant at first, adeline finally agreed, seeing it as an opportunity to further escape the social storm back home. as they spent time on the serene shores of lake como, away from the world's view, mutual comfort turned into attraction and eventually into a deep affection. they found solace in each other's arms, their simultaneous heartbreaks healing in sync. days that started with watching sunrises over the lake and ended with the sharing of deepest secrets under the moonlight were etched in their hearts.

together, they indulged in italy, taking boat rides, picnicking amidst the lush grapevines, and sipping wine as the sun kissed the horizon. it seemed both were meant to meet, meant to heal, meant to fall in love, at a time when they despised the world the most but needed companionship the most. months passed, and the internet could only speculate about adeline's whereabouts. little did they know she was no longer the same woman. she was in love, completely head over heels, in love with a guy who knew her for who she was, not the superstar she was painted to be.

adeline and arthur decided to try the public life once again, but this time united. with a bizarre twist of fate, the same public, who once hated them, welcomed them back warmly. the internet which had once been a cause of their isolation, now flooded with wishes and love, celebrating the very bond they despised before. after all, adeline had found love in the most unexpected place, with the most unexpected guy, but at the perfect time. it was her disappearance that led her to find true love and acceptance. it wasn't an easy ride, but it was worth it. the american actress, who was once hated, made a spectacular comeback, not alone, but with the love of her life by her side.

[bluberryfields]

"What the hell did you just do?"

Part 2 of whatever. Continuing on with Tadfield Manor scenes, we get to the infamous "Wall" scene. I know it has been analyzed by many so far, but that's never stopped people in the world of literary analysis from spewing their own thoughts on well-reviewed texts. Also, I just want to.

Okay, so once they enter the manor building and see the management training branding, Crowley decides to "help out" and make all of the paintball guns into real machine guns. He snaps his fingers and points double finger guns at the passing "soldier".

Aziraphale is dumbfounded. "What the hell did you just do?

Such language, Angel! And no physical reaction to it like Crowley did when he said "Heaven's sake" in E6. Huh.

Crowley, meanwhile, is thoroughly pleased with himself. They want to battle? He's happy to oblige.

This plus the scare in the courtyard lets us see Crowley enjoying the few perks of being a demon. It's fucking adorable.

Aziraphale cannot comprehend how Crowley - who just miracled a stain away on his coat because it bothered him - could do something so thoroughly evil. And with a jaunty step!

If Aziraphale had pearls, he'd be clutching them so hard.

To which Crowley takes the opportunity to once again point out the flawed binary system of morality. We the audience will see this argument again in the Body Snatcher minisode, so it's fun to see how these two keep having the same old debates throughout time just with different causes with which to start from.

Pointing out hypocrisy while slinking down a hall? Crowley, you delicious tramp.

Aziraphale is still thoroughly horrified, but Crowley concedes with a sigh that everyone will, in fact, be fine. To me, his tone is a mix of disappointment at him not being quite as much of a bastard as he paints himself. He can't really hide his true self from Aziraphale.

I love how he can't stop moving his body. Snakes gonna slither.

Then here is it. The big moment. Smug little Aziraphale feels the need to mention how nice Crowley is underneath his demonic persona.

We now know that this is a reoccurring exchange, where Crowley must defend his title of Big Bad Demon in front of Azi's kind compliments. There's serious consequences to Crowley being labeled "nice" and Azi knows this by now. So why does he keep bringing it up? To provoke Crowley? To finally break him into admitting Azi is right? It's not like Azi can protect Crowley from Hell's wrath, but he pushes anyway.

I thought Crowley was the shit-stirrer in this relationship.

And now my favorite part. Sister Mary shows up and rightly implies these two are about to nail each other through the drywall. But when she recognizes Crowley, he stops her in her tracks.

The sass! It's off the fucking chart! Only an Angel could withstand such a display!

Aziraphale just straightens his clothes and lets the sass go unchallenged because he's still has a bit of self-preservation instincts left.

So I already talked about the "Luck of the devil" line from Aziraphale here, but it truly is a fun moment in the context of the whole scene. Crowley is worked up from the "nice" comment and Aziraphale's seeming refusal to stop analyzing him.

Horny Aziraphale is sassy and Crowley looks like he wants to bite through a door frame.

So, obviously, I've spent way too much time rewatching these scenes, but I do find it so interesting how we see so much of their relationship on display within just a few minutes. The different personality traits to draw them together while also pushing them apart.

The way Aziraphale knows how to work Crowley, who in turns knows how to indulge appropriately. (*cough* bullet catch *cough*)

The way Crowley happily taps into his demonic toolbox to spread a bit of chaos without actually causing serious harm. (*cough* Job *cough*)

The way Aziraphale reflexively tows the party line of Heaven even in the face of Crowley's demonstrations of humanity's instincts. (*cough* all of time *cough*)

And basically the way they bring out the best (and sometimes worst) of each other. Some might say they're a team. Or a group. A group of the two of them.

[kiskisur]

ᝰ.ᐟ at pagtapos ang himas ng sandali.

rules || masterlist || info || about me || tags || fandoms

warnings: angst no comfort, [name]'s parents are a bitch🔥, male reader, he/him pronouns, reader is referred to as [name] :)

note: helloo, actually my second work lol so please do correct me if I did something wrong! and who knows? maybe I'll make a part 2 later ~

Lyney had admired [name] from afar for a long time, captivated by [name]'s charm, kindness, and the way [name] carried himself. However, Lyney knew that their path was strewn with obstacles. Society's norms and [name]'s parents' homophobic views cast a shadow over any possibility of a relationship.

Despite the odds, Lyney couldn't suppress his feelings any longer. He felt a growing need to be honest and true to himself. One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, he found the courage to speak his heart.

They were on the balcony, gazing at the stars twinkling above, when Lyney's voice trembled but resolute, "I need to tell you something, [name]. Something that's been on my mind for a while now." He took a deep breath and continued, "I love you. More than just a friend, I've fallen in love with you."

[name] looked at Lyney, his eyes wide with surprise and a hint of warmth. Before [name] could respond, however, a sudden tension fell over the scene. Lyney followed [name]'s gaze and felt his heart drop. [name]'s parents stood in the doorway, their expressions cold and unyielding.

[name]'s father's voice cut through the silence, laced with thinly veiled disappointment, "We were hoping you would make better choices, [name]. This is not what we expected."

Lyney's heart sank further as he witnessed the internal struggle in [name]'s eyes. The seconds felt like an eternity, and Lyney couldn't help but feel the weight of the world on his shoulders.

[name] finally turned back to Lyney, his voice gentle yet heavy with regret, "Lyney, you mean a lot to me, but you know the situation. My parents..." He glanced at them, and the message was clear – they expected him to conform to their wishes.

Tears welled up in Lyney's eyes as he nodded, understanding the unspoken words. He felt a mixture of pain, heartbreak, and resignation. [name] stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch Lyney's cheek.

"I wish things were different, Lyney," [name] finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "I care about you so much and I love you but.."

Lyney nodded, his heart aching with a pain he had tried to prepare himself for. He had hoped against hope that their love would be enough to overcome the obstacles, but reality had a cruel way of shattering even the most beautiful dreams.

"[name], I understand," Lyney said, his voice filled with a mixture of resignation and heartache. "I don't want to be the cause of any more pain for you. I just needed to tell you how I feel."

[name] stepped closer, his fingers gently entwining. "You're not the reason, Lyney. You've shown me a love I never knew was possible. But I can't let my own happiness come at the cost of your wellbeing."

Tears welled up in Lyney's eyes as he smiled sadly, his heart breaking a little more with each passing moment. "[name], I don't regret telling you how I feel. I just wish circumstances were different."

As they parted that night, Lyney walked away with a heavy heart, the weight of unrequited love pressing down on him. The stars that once seemed to shine so brightly now felt dimmed by the shadow of their unattainable love.

ᝰ.ᐟ 'di kukubli aking tinig.

[florsial]

*THROWS BOOKS ON TABLE*

There isn't enough Bartylus content, I'm throwing a fit

And here's a lil playlist i made and realized gave off slight bartylus vibes<3:

Spectrum and Hot Gum gives off such bartylus vibes!!

Here are some Bartylus hcs!!!

-I do believe in canon Barty is younger than Reg by about a year but I don't really like that, so I imagine Barty is just younger than Reg by about a few months (i do what i want)

-Though they first met at a pureblood event when they were both 8 years old and Barty finds himself being pushed to talk to the sickly-looking boy who clung to Evan Rosier while his brother was being pulled away by Walburga and Orion. He didn't get to talk to Regulus at all that night, but Evan was nice.

-When he sat with Evan and Reg on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, Regulus still didn't talk to him. Just starred. It was then that Evan explained that Regulus didn't know any English, only French.

-So Barty tried to teach some to him, but since he was pretty stumped on English too, being used to Italian most of his life, it didn't do much for Reg. Though it did make him laugh.

-They started dating in their 4th year, at first it was just casual dating, neither of them actually thought they would last so long but that did. Though with a few split-ups here and there.

-Once when Regulus got extremely sick, Barty took a walk to pass the time (since Reg insisted that his boyfriend keep a distance so he wouldn't get sick too) and ran into a stray black cat. It reminded him of Reg so he took it with him and presented it to Reg who opted to name the cat Artemisia

-Regulus likes to write letters and poems so he can slip them into Barty's bag for him to read.

-Cue soft dancing between the two, they def do it in private as a way of comfort

-Barty finds random shit he thinks Reg will like and just bring it to him like a cat, Reg a has about 2 boxes for it all

-They both know exactly when the other is lying. Both of them grew up in households that would lie often so they would see through each other so quickly. This is why surprises between them are basically useless but Reg likes to do so anyway because it's the thought that counts in his head

-In my little head they ran away to elope and just never told anyone. In canon compliant, I would imagine them eloping in the middle of wartime and planning to announce it when everything was over, but it just never happened cuz Reg died.

-I think it would be more fun if it was in a muggle/modern au where shortly after Sirius runs away, Reg and Barty run away to elope and they just disappear until years later when Sirius sees his little brother who he thought was still living with his parents and the little fucker is married to the psychotic bitch who threw knives for fun in high school (i might actually write a fanfic on this holy shit)

-wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses wrist kisses tehe

-Regulus paints Barty's nails cuz Barty has shaky hands that can never keep still

-Partly blond Regulus who lets Barty dye his hair

-They like to play tag together, while on the outside it's just a sweet thing, it is always a bit more symbolic than what people think

-Regulus knows how to sew so when he sees that some articles of Barty's clothes are ripped, he takes them and fixes them up. When Barty takes notice of this, he takes care to buy Reg a bag of candy and extra kisses as payment

-I don't really see them as super chaotic more like, unnerving in the sense that someone will be like: Evan: Yo your boyfriend is creepin me out Barty: K, he does that Barty: anyways you wanna see this macabre painting I made of someone getting eaten Evan: . . .yk what sure

-Painter Barty/Writer Regulus who are each other's muses hehe

-Barty learned how to make rings out of paper clips so he would make them and just throw them at Regulus. He started making them in 3rd year and has yet to just give them to Reg. He has to throw it. Barty says it's tradition, Evan calls bullshit, and that Barty just likes seeing Regulus confused about where the ring fell on the ground (it's true)

-Regulus likes to sneak up on Barty but over time Barty has become more aware of Regulus sneaking up on him.

-They share jewelry but the vibes are always the complete opposite when they wear it so people don't realize they are wearing the same piece. Regulus would wear it in a fancy and sophisticated way and Barty would wear it in what I think of as the "dirtbag" way (idk how else to describe forgive me)

[teecupangel]

So I watched the trailer of Assassin's Creed Shadows and I thought I'd give my preliminary thoughts

History-wise

Okay... so Yasuke was Oda Nobunaga's vassal from 1581 to 1582. Historically, he was captured by Akechi's forces after Mitsuhide betrayed Nobunaga which led to Nobunaga's death. Instead of killing him, Mitsuhide ordered he be shipped to the Christians (whether he did it to save Yasuke's life or because he was being racist is still unsure) where he was treated and they sailed out of Japan later on.

Naoe being an Iga shinobi... I have nothing XD Nobunaga did destroy the shinobi clans in Iga (that was a whole 'nother thing) and her last name, Fujibayashi, was one of the ruling families of Iga province. Other than that... uuuhhh... the kanji of her name 名緒絵 sorta gives the impression of an honorable, kind and talented person. 名 is usually seen in words that translate to 'name' or 'distinguished', the first thing I thought of when I saw 緒 was 'beginning' but it can also mean 'strap' or 'cord' and 絵 is a kanji that appears in words that is connected to art and painting.

Possible Storyline

Oda Nobunaga is not a Templar. He was, for a time, an ally of the Brotherhood until he got his hands on a Sword of Eden and everything went downhill from there. So I see 2 possible storylines:

This is set before Oda Nobunaga's death in Honnouji and Yasuke has a redemption arc with Naoe guiding him to the ways of the Brotherhood. They probably act independently from Akechi's forces and the end game is to take away the Sword of Eden from Nobunaga. Yamauchi Taka (who kills Nobunaga in AC canon) would appear as a support character of some capacity. (He might even be Naoe's mentor)

This is set after Oda Nobunaga's death and Yasuke is on a path of vengeance against those who conspired against Oda. He and Naoe would have a more hostile relationship first before it developed into Yasuke finally letting go of his need for vengeance and becoming a blade to save the weak from this endless bloodshed.

Regardless, we'll probably see Hattori Hanzo since he's part of the Japanese Brotherhood.

Plot 1 would end in Honnouji and the retrieval of the Sword of Eden... or the Sword of Eden apparently gets into Akechi's hands and we get to have plot 1 AND 2 where the sword becomes 'pass the baton' kind of deal (this will fight with the current AC canon though)

Plot 2 could end anywhere from Akechi's death during the Battle of Yamazaki OR we get as far as the Battle of Sekigahara which is always fun (I mean... not fun because so many people died there but fun in a video game-y kind of way).

Plot 2 is more broad which could lead to 'too many characters, not enough limelight' while Plot 1 is more centered and could serve to make the character development shine.

(If this Oda Nobunaga gets a laser sword as well, at least we can say Isu bullshit on that one XD)

Gameplay

As far as I know, Assassin's Creed Shadows will follow the open world rpg setup of the Layla trilogy. Considering how Mirage made use of Valhalla's engine, that might be Naoe's gameplay as well. I would suggest to wait for an actual gameplay as Ubisoft sometimes make fancy 'moves' in cinematic trailers that you can't actually do in-game.

I also want to know how they would handle the two main characters setup. Considering we see them together in the trailer, this might be a case of "same missions but who you pick decide how you approach it" kind of deal instead of AC Syndicate's "Jacob and Evie do their own thing most of the time". Same missions also means there's a good chance of wanting to replay it as a different character for a different experience and also... it means they'd be reusing the same assets during development XD

teecup Rambles

Okay, here we go.

I really want to see Assassin's Creed version of Nobunaga Oichi because she's my favorite character in these kinds of stories. She's usually portrayed as the kind beautiful younger sister of Oda Nobunaga that he once said could have been a fine warrior if she had been born a man. Also, her daughters would later marry (or become a concubine) to prominent historical figures. Her relationship with Nobunaga after the death of her first husband is also vague so she can support Yasuke regardless if he's trying to avenge Nobunaga's death or if he betrayed him.

Other than that, I think the final battle being Sekigahara would be epic. Just waves and waves of enemies to fight as Yasuke while Naoe stealth her way to the big battlefield to assassinate their actual target. Although, historically, it would make sense for the story to end with Nobunaga's death or Akechi's death since that's around the last time we hear of Yasuke.

... then again, he would just return after being shipped off and that starts the main game too.

Yeah, that's about it. I really just wanted to talk about Ichi but I couldn't add it elsewhere.

Oh and Yasuke is in Samurai Warriors 5 if you want to have an idea of how Ubisoft can handle him... also in Nobunaga's Ambition. It would be awesome if his Isu armor's helmet would look something like Nagoriyuki's (who is inspired by the historical figure Yasuke) from Guilty Gear as a reference to a reference but I highly doubt it.

[carcarcraziiv2]

The Woman with the Pink Hair (P. 1, 2, 3)

Hello my friends! I bring to you The Woman with the Pink Hair! This is a Vi x Fem! Reader fanfiction.

I will post this gradually, maybe once or twice a week until it is fully out! (If you are impatient, you can view it on my Wattpad-> @DatBishCar)

Please note that this is the first piece I wrote after a HEFTY (I mean years long) hiatus from writing.

P.S. Lowkey I KNOW there's a bunch of shit I could fix in here to make it better due to my practice over the past year or so, but I just... I'm so lazy rn LOL. Anyhoooooo....

ALSO- here are the TW for you lovelies! (This is for the WHOLE SERIES)-

Violence, mental illness, oral sex, dominant tendencies, torture, kidnapping, plotting?... lowkey there's probably more but you should get the gist here, AS ALWAYS ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK ILY<3

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PART ONE: INTRODUCTIONS-

Staring at the wall. You often found yourself staring at the wall while you were bored, zoning out thinking about things. How lonely your life had gotten, while at the same time it is better than it has been in a while. You had your freedoms to go do what you wanted - walk, paint, draw, listen to music. As you did those things you constantly seeked inspiration from the little bits and pieces that showed themselves to you in every crack and crevice. 

    You enjoyed finding the positives in things that didn't always seem positive. Hell, you were living in an old shack you rented from a grungy man who you weren't sure even actually owned the place. He did, however, have the keys.

    Deciding you needed some fresh air, as fresh as it can be in the undercity, you gather yourself to head out for a stroll through the dark streets and into the markets and shops. You enjoyed people watching, perhaps you would run into someone interesting. You grabbed your jacket, a purple and black lots of pockets kind of deal, and your beanie and put them on. Your medium length hair was in a bun on the lower part of your head, and you had pieces of hair flowing down in front of your face on either side. You liked the wispy look of it.

    You quickly found yourself in the center of the town after a few turns and blocks that you had memorized by heart. The place was always semi crowded. People doing grungy things, illegal things - but in your eyes, you saw beauty. You saw people smiling, laughing with their friends. Even as there were people who looked at you with an evil glint in their eye as you walked past, you were not afraid. You knew this place like the back of your hand, you grew up here after all. 

    After reaching one of your favorite places to eat, you walked to the counter and ordered some soup. Honestly, there was no telling what ingredients were in it but you trusted the chef as they always made delicious things. A few minutes pass, and you grabbed your brown, watery looking stew and headed over to a table nearby. There was no one sitting there, and the furniture was mostly clean unlike some of the surrounding options which were covered in trash, dirt and spilled food. As you sat, you looked over to the large red headed woman who cooked and served the food.

    "Thank you!"

    "You're welcome, honey," she replied with a warm smile. She was kind of like family to you, since you didn't really have any of your own. In fact, a lot of the shopkeepers and people who constanted the area were as such. You rarely saw people you didn't know or hadn't at least met once. 

    The soup was warm, salty, and amazing as usual. You finished every last bite and took the common decency to return the silverware and bowl to the counter, rather than having them come grab it from the table. You liked helping them out whenever you could, as they would do the same for you. Turning around, you looked about. Still seeking inspiration, you were torn as to whether or not to just go home. You did have to work in the morning but were unsure as to how much you actually cared about getting rest beforehand. Scanning your surroundings from right to left, you looked at all the people, until you saw someone unfamiliar leaning against a wall, hood down, with bits of pink hair peeking out from beneath it. 

   You were intrigued.

   Gazing at the person standing there, your creative curiosity and interest peaked. You wanted to know what they looked like, and luckily right as the thought crossed your mind someone approached the woman, and she took her hood down.

   She looked tired, worn, beaten and bruised. Your heart hurt thinking about anyone going through the things that would result in looking such a way. Behind all of that surface area, you saw beautiful features, however, and felt your heart race a little bit as the woman scanned the area while chatting. You were nervous she would catch you staring, so you pretended to look down quickly.

   The woman was becoming more agitated speaking with the person in front of her, and suddenly pushed them away. She started walking quickly away from you.

    Oh no... you thought. You did not want to lose this person, as creepy as that sounds. You decided to follow them only for a few minutes. Sometimes strangers led you to streets and places you would have never gone to yourself. You weren't only following her to be creepy. 

   You jumped up and started walking in the same direction as the woman. She was fast, so you had to speed walk a little bit. You took a few turns and short stops, all at places you had been before and studied before. Although you were interested in her, you decided that you would turn around and head home. 

    Right before you turned heel, the woman turned down a narrow dark alleyway. Ok... you thought. Now what is she doing? You waited a few moments before turning, too. You didn't want her to see you and recognize you. She looked like she might get a little angry about that. 

    Very quickly, you realized you had made a mistake. Three large men appeared from the shadows in front of the woman. And she stopped, looked up to the sky, and sighed loudly. You took the opportunity to hide behind a stack of boxes that were next to a dumpster on the left side of the alleyway. You peeked out from behind them and watched the confrontation ensue.

    "What do you need, boys?" The woman said, stepping over to lean on the wall next to her, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

    "We saw a pretty girl like you, and decided we needed to have you. What'ya say, sweets?" One man said. His voice was gravely, low, and you swore you could smell him from where you were. The other two men were sneering behind him, adjusting their waste bands. 

    The woman laughed. And she laughed loudly. Your eyes widened at the sound, it was like a sweet music, even in this scenario.

   "You don't know what you're about to do, dirtbag," the woman said while laughing. The man's expression quickly changed to one of anger, and he started approaching her. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you," She warned. The man laughed slightly and kept approaching, to which the woman responded-

    "Idiot".

 ---- Vi's POV ----

    Vi sneered at the man coming at her. She had a rush of adrenaline from the argument she had with the junky at the markets earlier already and needed to get rid of the urges she had to punch something. She decided these guys would do the trick.

    As the man approached, Vi took the cigarette out of her mouth and flicked it at him. He jerked back. Really? Afraid to get burned? That should be the least of your worries. As he jerked back, she grabbed him by the front of his coat and head butted him, wasting no time while he was in shock to bring her right fist up and slam it into his face.

    "By the way, the name is Vi."

    The other two men started to approach her, and she gave them a look that said "really?". They came to her from opposite sides, and she easily grabbed both of their backs, took a step backward and slammed their heads into each other. The men both collapsed to the ground rubbing their heads and yelling at one another. 

    The first man was starting to get up off the ground, but this time he looked afraid. Vi gave him a look that made him tremble and told him "Get the fuck out of here. You and these two dumbasses. I don't want to see you causing trouble to anyone again. Got it?" They hesitated, "I said get the FUCK out of here!" She yelled this time. The men got up and ran away like little children. Pathetic. 

    Vi turned around and saw someone staring at her from behind a dumpster. It was that girl from the market, the one that caught her eye. She had noticed her following her but didn't think she still was at this point. Vi grew angry, her adrenaline still running high through her veins.

 ---- Your POV ---- 

    As the fight finished up, you were holey prepared to turn tail and book it out of here. You decided you were following someone really dangerous and became scared. That is right about the moment when the woman turned around and looked right at you, rage in her eyes.

    You stumbled backwards, turning and trying to run away. "Fuck" you muttered as you slipped immediately after trying to start running. You looked backward for a brief moment as you stood, and realized she was right behind you. The woman shoved you roughly into the wall behind you. Her hand on your neck.

    "WHO are you? WHY are you following me? WHO are you working for?" The woman yelled in your face. Although you were afraid, short of breath and absolutely dreading what was to come you were enamored by her beauty. "Hello?!" She broke you out of your trance, "I asked you a question!"

    "N- n- no one! I'm not working for anyone" you stammered, your voice weak from the vice like grip she had on your neck.

    "Liar," she said calmly, her grip tightening ever so slightly on your neck. You felt pressure in your cheeks and above your eyes, and you became truly afraid that you may die. 

   "I- I'm no- not lying," you struggled to say. "I just tho- thought you looked go- good so I followed you to get inspi- inspiration for my art."

    Her grip loosened ever so slightly. You sensed she could tell you were afraid. Maybe she could tell you were not lying, but you were unsure. You really couldn't trust strangers down here. She shoved her finger in your face, and bit her teeth together. Through this, she said -

    "Don't fucking follow me again. That is creepy as hell." She released you and you fell to the ground, rubbing your neck. 

    "I- I won't!" you promised, looking up. But realization quickly hit that she was already gone, as you saw her walking the rest of the alleyway past where she beat those men, with her hood up and hands in her pockets.

    You took the opportunity, got up, and ran your ass all the way home. You heart was beating very quickly, and you were still terrified. Hyper aware of everything around you. The wind making the tendrils of your hair fly next to your face as you ran.

 Finally, you got home and got inside, collapsing on the ground from exhaustion.

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PART TWO: Ubiquity

  The next few weeks, you continued on with your life. Going on walks, working, eating, and drawing. Drawing someone who you could not get out of your head. The woman with the pink hair. After your encounter, you swore you saw her everywhere. Places you had never seen her before. 

    One day, she was at the market getting food from your favorite place. She looked like she liked the woman who had previously given you your soup. She was smiling, and you noticed her put down a gracious tip onto the counter before collecting her food. You stayed very far back before cowering and going back home. 

    Another day, she came into your work. You didn't think she was looking for anything in particular, she was just browsing, probably bored. You watched from the back-room door as she fumbled with some of the little figurines you had placed out and watched her put them back down as if they were so fragile, she might break them by breathing on them.

    On this particular day, you headed to work. You were tired and worn out from the last weeks' worth of work already but still had today before you finally got a day off. You worked in a small nick-nack shop that a lot of people who created gadgets frequented. You decided to stop and grab some coffee at the warn down coffee stand out front of the shop you worked. The stand was musty, creaky, and downright shouldn't even exist anymore. But what are you to do when you are so limited to recourses as you are down here?

    "Hi, can I have a coffee, something sweet?" You smiled at the barista. They did not smile back.

    "2 dollars." They stated. They were tall, skinny and looked as if they were addicted to... something. You handed them the money and they gave you your coffee, immediately turning away to attend to the next customer. You started taking a sip, it was bitter, and you let out a hiss. Slowly turning to your left, you jumped and let out a little yelp.

    It was the woman. She was standing beside you against the wall, staring at you as if she was pondering something. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she took a drag off her cigarette. 

    "You still following me?" She smirked. Your eyes widened and you felt your heart beating a thousand beats per minute. She was wearing the same getup. A red jacket that looked warn. Her tired look was no longer, but she did look wary and had a few scratches, including one on her lips.

   Her beautiful pink lips. 

   "Hey, my eyes are up here," she snorted. You gasped.

   "Oh, shit. Sorry... No, I am not following you. Trust me I don't want to get strangled again." You said way too quickly. A few people glanced over at the two of you, and you lowered your head. You could feel your cheeks becoming red.

   "Then why are you everywhere I go? I have seen you at least 3 places besides the first time we encountered one another. Who are you?"

    "Well like I said, I am not following you," you stated. You felt a little frustrated that it wasn't getting through her head. "And I don't appreciate you accusing me of such!"

   She laughed. That same beautiful laugh she had right before she beat the shit out of three huge men.

    "It wouldn't be the first time, weirdo. Now, I am not going to hurt you again. Trust me. I was in a fit of rage and... yeah. Just can you trust me on that?" She looked genuine. You felt yourself loosen up a bit. "What is your name? I'm Vi," she reached her hand out towards you.

    "I'm (y/n). And I guess I can," you stated hesitantly. You reached your hand out and grasped hers. It was calloused and hard against your soft one.

    "So, you're really an artist?" She asked, sitting down on a bench across the walkway. You followed, and sat next to her, looking at your wristwatch. You had about 30 minutes until you had to go in to work behind the coffee shop.

    "Um... yes. It's a hobby," you said shyly. You brushed a loose piece of hair back behind your ear and looked over at her. "And you're a street fighter?" You said raising your eyebrow.

   She laughed again. You couldn't help but smile too.

   "Well, technically, I guess you could call it that. I really only fight when I have to, or if I am in the mood to do so. I am the kind of person who just goes with the flow, I guess. I have no real goal right now...". You noticed that she was becoming saddened, but not enough to fully show it through her tough face. She stretched her legs out and laid back against the back of the bench and looked up at the sky. You noticed a few features you hadn't previously. She had a tattoo on her cheek that read VI and a gear tattoo on the side of her neck. She had scars, a lot of them. You wondered where she got them but put the pieces together and assumed they were probably from fights.

    "Do you fight a lot?" You blurted out, unsure if the question would offend, anger or sadden her. She looked at you dead in the eyes with her sky-blue ones, serious as can be.

    "Yes."

    She was so mysterious. You wondered about her life, her story. You wanted to know more about her but there was still and underlying fear and feeling of uneasiness around her simply because of how the two of you first interacted. You rubbed your neck as you remembered the happening. 

    "I am sorry for what I did to you before. It was out of line. I shouldn't have assumed you were some person who was hired to go after me." Vi reached up and put her hand on your shoulder for a split second. You felt yourself get warm all over and blushed.

    "Um, I guess it's okay?" You shrugged. You weren't actually okay with it, but you didn't want it to be the reason why you two wouldn't talk again. You wanted to talk to her again, so you gathered yourself and in a brief confidence asked, "Do you want to hangout sometime? Like we can get coffee or food or something?"

    She looked taken aback, and you immediately began trying to remedy the situation. You were embarrassed. "I- I'm sorry it's okay if you don't want to I totally under-"

    "(y/n), Its okay. I would like that." She stopped you and stated. You smiled coyly and looked down at your coffee, then back up at her.

    "Okay, cool. Meet me here tomorrow, same time?" You got up. "I have to go to work, actually. Like right there. I am a few minutes late..." You couldn't believe that 35 minutes had already passed by and knew the boss man was not going to be happy that you were late. You said your goodbyes and headed into the shop. 

    You were right, the man was not happy.

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PART THREE: Awkward Encounters

 You and Vi had plans to meet the next day. On one hand you were giddy with excitement. On the other, you were nervous. Very nervous. You weren't entirely sure you could trust the temperament of this woman. As you laid in bed, you had thoughts of what the day ahead would look like. What kind of interest did Vi have with you? You were certain you had interest in her, but you didn't know what kind of interest it was. You imagined the two of you in different scenarios, such as friendship, or as lovers. Friendship seemed amazing, but lovers felt even better. You smiled at yourself and rolled over. Either way, you decided you were going to have a good time.

--THE NEXT DAY--

    Waking up energized, you decided since it was your day off, you would try to do as much as possible. If Vi was up to it, perhaps she could tag along. You got up in the morning from your bed and comfortable plaid duvet to go shower. In the shower, you washed your hair as well as wash and shaved your body. The water was warm as it caressed your figure. You imagined it was Vi.

    What am I thinking? You contemplated. You two had only just met and it was a strange encounter to say the least. You shook your head in dismay, blushing at the thoughts you were dismissing. You hopped out of the shower and grabbed one of the towels right outside the curtain. You always laid the towel on the toilet seat so it would be easier to get to. Stepping out of the shower, you stood in front of the mirror above the sink. You were a tidy person, but today it was a little bit messy in there.

    Taking a small hand towel, you swiped the glass on the mirror so you could see your reflection. Although you looked tired, you still felt energetic. You were too giddy to feel tired. You decided today you were going to put on a little bit of makeup, just mascara and eyeshadow. Walking out of your bathroom and back into your room, the towel draped across your midriff, you looked in the closet to pick out an outfit. 

   Deciding on black jeans, a baggy brown knit sweater, and your warn old brown boots you tossed them on. The sweater was warm, which was perfect for this time of year in the Undercity. You got everything on, tossed on a few rings on your fingers, and headed to the door. beside the door was a coat rack, which you grabbed your oversized black leather jacket off of and threw on. You smiled as you walked outside and took a deep breath of air.

    Your heart was racing, but this time it was from excitement. Never had you thought you would be so brave as to ask someone you had just met (who admittedly had almost killed you) to hangout. You rolled your eyes at yourself and dismissed the thoughts from coming back. You refused to let that ruin your day or come back up ever again. 

    You made your way down the street and your usual route to the coffee shop in front of your work. As you approached, you had hoped Vi would be there early, but she was nowhere to be seen. It was 5 minutes before your set meeting time, but you were not worried. You ordered yourself and Vi a coffee at the stand and sat at the bench you both had your first meaningful conversation at. Taking a sip, you looked around and took in the area, hoping to remember every last detail that you may not have already memorized. 

    You looked down at your watch and realized time had already passed. 10 minutes, actually. You were getting worried that she wouldn't show up. After another 5 minutes, you decided to get up and walk into the shop you were employed at. The shop keep looked confused why you were there, but you said-

    "Don't worry, I am just visiting. I rarely get to come in here as a customer."

    "Oh, okay." he smiled slightly. He seemed to be in a better mood, but then you bumped into a shelf beside you. You jerked yourself to the right to correct it and ensure nothing fell off. "Just don't break anything," he sighed, rolling his eyes. He was a big man, not fat but muscular. He seemed like he could handle himself in a bar fight if he had to.

    "I promise I will not break anything," you laughed slightly. You turned your back to the man and back towards the window out front, and you saw her.

    She was beautiful, sitting there on the bench on the same side she had last. Her fingers were tapping the back of it and she was looking around nervously. You decided to set down the figurine you had in your hand and rushed outside. You were relieved she actually came.

    "Vi!" you smiled, rushing over to her. She smiled back and began to stand, when you felt someone run into you, knocking you to the ground. You were shaken, and looked up towards the direction the person was going. "S-Sorry!" you hollered to the person, but they kept going.

    "Watch it, Asshole!" Vi yelled in their direction, coming over to you to help you get up. Luckily, you had already gotten rid of the coffees as they had gotten cold. You stood and brushed yourself off, thanking the world silently for the ground not being wet today. Sighing, you turned to Vi and embraced her in a hug.

   "I am so glad you made it," you smiled, releasing her. She had not returned the embrace, but you were okay with that. Not everyone is a hugger and she appeared shocked.

    "Oh, uh yeah. Sorry about that. I had some things I had to take care of," she muttered, appearing to blush and took her hand through her hair. As she did this, you couldn't help but watch the muscles in her arm flex, as she was only wearing a t-shirt. She cleared her throat, and your eyes darted back over to her face. 

    "So, um, are you hungry?" you quickly changed the subject. She nodded, and you started walking. She followed.

    The two of you walked side by side for quite some ways and decided amongst yourselves to go to one of Vi's favorite places. You had never been there before, but you had walked by it many times. You were in awe at the fact that you had not ever seen Vi before. You walked inside the establishment with her. It was large and smelled of drink. You noticed a decrepit old bar towards the back, and wooden tables all around. There were a few people in there, but not many. Vi walked to the back and sat at the bar. Sighing, as she looked around.

    "You know," she started, "My dad used to own this place. He died trying to protect my family." A pained expression crossed her face. You frowned.

    "Oh, I am so sorry..." you weren't the best at comforting people and looked down at your hands. Luckily, Vi decided she wanted to change the subject and called the bartender over, ordering you both a drink. You didn't normally drink, but today you were willing to allow it. After all, you did decide you wanted to have fun.

    After a few rounds, you both and really let loose a lot. You were laughing with each other and had gotten to know more about each other's lives and interests. 

    "...And then!" Vi laughed as she was finishing her story, "He fell on his ass into the puddle, right beside us!" You grimaced and laughed with her. She had just told you about a fight she had gotten into. It seemed to be a lot of the talking points she had, but you didn't mind. Actually, it impressed you how confident she was in herself. 

    In your tipsy state, you leaned forward, putting your hand on her thigh to keep your balance. She looked down at your hand, and back up at you.

    "I am sorry for following you," you slurred. "I thought you were so beautiful... I wanted to see what you were about..." blushing, you turned away, but your hand still laid on her thigh. You felt a warmth over your hand and looked back over. Vi had placed hers there, on top of yours. Butterflies fluttered throughout your stomach.

    "(Y/N), it's okay. Really." The two of you had gotten closer, without even realizing it. "To be honest, I saw you at the market before I even started walking. You were looking down at your hands, but I could tell you were pretty. I almost came over to you, but I chickened out."

    Your eyes widened, and you blushed profusely. You leaned towards her slightly. You weren't even sure she was interested in women, but you didn't care. You were really really hoping she was. Suddenly, Vi removed her hand from on top of yours, and lightly placed it on the back of your neck. She looked you in the eyes, and you tilted your head ever so slightly looking back into hers. She leaned in, pulling you closer gently, and pressed her lips against yours. You leaned into the kiss and melted. Her lips felt like heaven against yours. They were soft, supple, and warm. 

   As she pulled away, you felt your hand absent-mindedly reach up and caress your mouth. You were blushing even harder than before and looked at her. She was smiling a huge face splitting smile. She looked proud.

    "Wow," she stated.

    "Wow," you repeated back. 

    "Bet ya weren't expecting that, were you?"

    "No, but I liked it. Did... did you?" you asked nervously.

    "I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to." She giggled. You smiled and turned back towards the bar, twirling your finger around the straw in the glass. You wanted another, and so did she. You knew because soon there were two new drinks in front of you both. 

    You looked over at Vi. She was just finishing a sip of her drink and looked over at you as she set it down. 

     "Do you want to come to my house tomorrow and see some of my art? I already saw you fight, so I figured it would be fair if I showed you some of the things I have done," you asked sheepishly. She smiled, but this time it was sly. Like someone looking at something they wanted to eat, to devour. 

    "Absolutely."

    The two of you finished your drinks. The day was nearly over, and you hadn't done any of the things that you had planned. You were okay with it. In fact, you wouldn't trade how this day went for anything. Before leaving the establishment, Vi offered to walk you home. You had a feeling she wanted to keep you safe, and you appreciated it even though were not afraid. This also made it easier for her to find your home the next day, so she could come look at your art.

    You continued talking to one another as you walked back to your house. She had her hands in her pockets, and you had yours in your own. The streets were dark and there were hardly any people out, as most of the shops had closed. 

    Approaching the old shack of a house you called home, Vi let out a whistle and turned to you.

    "Quite the place you got here, huh?" She grinned, teasing you.

    "Hey, its home to me alright? Can only do so much down here." You reached up and lightly smacked her arm. Before you could lower your hand, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to her. So close, both of you were touching bodies. Vi was taller than you, and looked down at you slightly, as you looked up at her. She smiled and planted another kiss on you. This one more passionate, inviting. You could feel her warmth enveloping you as her arms held you. 

    Releasing from the kiss, you tried to stammer out a goodbye, but Vi had already started walking away. 

     "See you tomorrow, sweet stuff!" She said, waving as she walked backwards. She had a huge grin on her face.

    "O-Okay! See you tomorrow!" You smiled back. You turned around and got inside, shut the door and leaned against it. You did a little happy dance in your spot. 

    Wow... you thought. That was amazing. 

PLEASE LIKE AND COMMENT IF YOU ENJOY :D Drop a follow if you wanna stay updated on these! There are TEN more parts in the series! Oml...... lol <3 I hope you enjoyed so far!

[yourangel137]

Wanderer comforting reader who is going through very bad depression/self harm

Last but not least, I have to repost this one 100%. I'm just also very proud of this one! Sorry not sorry :3

Pairings: Wanderer X GN!reader (Using of both Scara and Kuni in this story)

Warnings: Mention of blood, very bad self-harm, descriptive depression symptoms, descriptive suicidal thoughts

Genres: Angst + Comfort

Type: One-shot

Word count: 1025 words

POV: First part: reader pov, second part: Wanderer pov, third part: reader pov

Summary: Reader feels the urge to give up thinking Scara left them for good

For anyone with suicidal thoughts, selfharm thought. Please!!! Get help!! Call for help!!

Suicide hotlines

It’s not like he wanted to be busy, it’s not like he wanted to leave you alone, it’s not like he wished for you to leave, yet it seems to feel that way to you. Sometimes his harsh words can make you feel insecure or his harsh words seem to make you overthink at certain moments. Like today.. you haven’t seen Scara for at least 2 weeks now and it’s been extremely lonely for you. What if he doesn’t actually come back? What if he actually doesn’t want to come back? You’ve read his letter, you’ve read how he will come back as soon as he can and how he promises to bring you your favourite flowers as a compensation for leaving you for so long. But after that letter, you didn’t hear anything from him for so long.

Even if it’s only been 2 weeks since he left, it feels like an eternity. Your brain works overtime, thinking about possible negative outcomes, something your brain seems to do a lot whenever you are alone. Worry fills your brain, what if he’s hurt? But it’s also filled with disgusting comments about yourself because maybe... you really aren’t good enough after all.

You get up from your couch and walk towards the table where the letter you read still lies. Your heart aches, tears form in your eyes. “What do I do? He could’ve at least.. said goodbye to my face instead of leaving a letter. What if.. you never come back.” That’s when your eyes focus on the knife on the table. You placed it there for when you need to eat dinner, but right now your thoughts wander to a different reason for using the knife. Your brain fills itself with dark thoughts, darkness fully covering up the light you managed to create in your brain before. Your hand grabs the knife handle, lifting the sharp small knife and inspecting the sharpness by sliding your finger over it.

Your breath starts breaking it’s usual calm breathing pattern, blood rushing to your brain while you do the one thing you had told yourself never to do again. It hurts, it hurts to feel the wounds you created, it hurts to feel the blood gush out of them.. But nothing hurts more than your brain punishing you for just trying your best. The blood drips down onto the floor, painting the floor with the red drops of despair and sadness. What do you do now? Yet panic is the last thing you think about as dizziness starts to overtake your body instead. You drop the knife, shaking uncontrollable as reality starts to hit you slowly. Quickly you grab the table to stay stable. ‘What do I do now? Is this the end?’ You think to yourself. You didn’t even hear Scara opening and closing the front door and calling out to you. The last thing you see are his eyes filled with shock and disbelief and the flowers he had promised to bring along falling on the ground, before you passed out from the blood loss.

--

Before you could fall on the ground, Scara catches you and slowly drops you down to the floor with him. His eyes tear up, not being able to know how to reply to the image he sees before him. The person he loves is unconcious in his arms, bleeding like crazy.

‘what do I do what do I do what do I do?!’ He starts to panic. Why did you never tell him about your relapsing?! He wouldn’t have left otherwise.. “This is all my fault..” Tears fall down and drop onto your cheek. Immediately he thinks he lost you, thinking you died in his arms and he couldn’t do anything about it. But then the moment he sees your chest still rising and falling, is the moment he lifts you up and carefully brings you to bed. He has to do everything now to keep you alive and he’s willing to sacrifice anything. He stops the bleeding, getting it all over himself and the bed but he really doesn’t care. Then he bandages the wounds and keeps a very close eye to you while waiting for you to wake up.

“Please.. just wake up.”

--

The moment you open your eyes, you’re met with your lovers eyes. His eyes still teary and his cheeks still damp from the amount of tears he cried out while waiting for you to wake up. You wanted to speak to him, you wanted to apologize, you wanted to tell him that it’s not his fault, but he started speaking first. “Are you dumb?! Why didn’t you tell me you were relapsing?! I wouldn’t have left! This is all my fault.. You scared me! I thought I lost you!” Tears fell down his eyes again, showing you a vulnerable state he always wants to hide from others. You watch him hesitantly reach out for your hand, you eventually grab his hand the moment he got close enough to yours. “I might not say it a lot but I do love you.. I don’t.. want to lose you.”

You didn’t think it would hurt him so much to see you like this, but you can clearly feel him tremble a bit. “You.. were scared of losing me?” You hear him curse under his breath before giving your hand and soft squeeze. “Yes! Why wouldn’t I?!” He answers, his voice having a slight tremble as well.

“I’m sorry Kuni. It’s not your fault, please-“

“I love you.” He cut you off.

You open your mouth again to say something but instead you decide to shut your mouth instead. You watch him get up and soon enough you feel him softly press a kiss against your forehead. “I’ll get you some more help, I don’t think I bandaged you up very well. Take rest.” He let’s go of your hand and showed you a small smile. You simply nod before opening your mouth again to speak. “I love you too, Kuni..”

“I know you do. Now shut up and sleep, you’ll feel better soon I promise.”

Thank you for reading, I'll always be here if you need someone to talk to <3

Much love,

Angel

Made on: 15-03-2023

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey Raven, are you going to watch the upcoming new Disney movie "Wish"?

I've seen mixed reviews, but i'm lowkey excited since we get to see a new Disney villain, especially since Disney got really lame villains after all the old classic movies!

Have you seen the trailer for the movie? What are your thoughts so far?

I saw Wish with a friend recently! I'll give my thoughts on the trailers here (in case you don't want spoilers for the film itself) and put my full thoughts beneath the cut (if you're okay with spoilers).

Looks-wise, I think Disney was definitely trying to go for something more stylistic and painting-esque for this?? And while I commend the effort, it definitely doesn't look as interesting as Puss in Boots 2: The Last Wish. The humor also definitely isn't for me, it feels very "quirky" and "so relatable" (Asha reminds me of Mirabel in that sense), and other times too juvenile (like the goat butt joke). I do like the idea of the villain passing as a good guy in-universe and actually being vain and selfish, especially since the marketing is making it clear who the bad guy is rather than making it a "twist" villain scenario. Not sure if I like Magnifico himself though??? All the ads with him in it feel like Disney is trying too hard to make people thirst for him. From just the trailers, Magnifico does seem interesting and like more of a return to the traditional "villain" rather than the protagonist having to deal with an existential dread or concept.

***Spoilers for Wish beneath the cut!***

Right off the bat, my first impression is the narrative is SO ham-fisted. Within the first 5 minutes alone we're establishing so much information and in such a clunky, unnatural way. Like... Asha says hi to her friends but then they robotically have a dialogue where they overtly call each other "friends" just so it's clear to the audience (when in reality no one talks like that). It's telling instead of showing, and this happens sooo many times early in the film.

Could not for the life of me remember the friends or their names. There were just too many of them when 1 or 2 would have been just fine to move the plot along and to help Asha. (Yes, I know they're a reference to the 7 Dwarves but it's STILL not necessary to have so many just for a reference.)

Bruh, the makeup in this movie is on point. Every time there was a close up of a character, I was staring at their eye makeup (especially Asha and the queen's).

Asha as a protagonist was... fine? She feels very close to Mirabel and at times Rapunzel in her character. I didn't dislike her by any means, but she didn't reinvent what it means to be a Disney protag. Her motivations also come off as… really “out of nowhere”. We’re told she “cares too much”, but she initially only wants to save the wishes of her mom and grandpa; she randomly decides she has to free ALL wishes midmovie and that was jarring. There could have been a smoother transition. Instead, it was abrupt and Asha didn’t change in any meaningful way. Even her “I want” song was vague (what exactly is “to have something more for us than this”?) and didn’t connect well with her character.

I do really like her design though! Her freckles, earrings, and how her hair moves are my favorite details.

Valentino was not as annoying as I thought he would be. Still didn't care for his sass and brand of humor, but at least he helped out a few times.

I called it, the film is trying so hard to make Magnifico "hot" 🤡 I don't get it but okay, Mouse. I see your effort.

Loved his fit!! Very cool cloak and diamond/star motifs everywhere! His lab and study was also fun to look at.

I quite liked the moments when the queen talked to her husband and tried to smooth things over with him. “I can fix him energy”— Their relationship seemed very genuine at the start of the movie.

NOT THE WISH NEPOTISM...

If they were going for “sympathetic” with Magnifico, it didn’t work. He gave this backstory about how he was traumatized before + left as the only survivor of a great tragedy and so now he wants to use his magic to prevent that from happening to anyone else. Thing is, we only ever know about this via his word and staring at a half-burnt tapestry. We never see the event on screen, nor what was left of the tapestry. I was expecting a twist where it’s revealed that he lied all this time about his backstory and rewrote history so he could more easily manipulate the people of the kingdom he founded and live out the fantasy of being worshipped as a “good guy”. That was such a missed opportunity!!

Something else I was thinking of (this was during “This is the Thanks I get” was??? Maybe Magnifico started off genuinely good but became worn down over time as people’s wishes grew more selfish and they became ungrateful for what they had?? Then he could have become bitter and disillusioned by the behavior of his people.

Another idea is maybe Magnifico was “villainous” only in Asha’s eyes, since they don’t agree on how to best handle granting wishes. This would be more of a clash of ideologies rather than the traditional Obvious Evil vs Obvious Good that Disney is so known for, but hey, it could be a neat evolution of their storytelling from classic fairy tale roots.

This is to say that there were so many more interesting directions they could have gone with Magnifico’s motives, character, and portrayal 😭 but the second half of the movie never commits to any of these, they just blame his complete insanity and turn to the dark side on Forbidden Magic which is such a cop-out.

The trailers gave away the twist that Magnifico was the villain. It wasn’t revealed until like the second song into the movie. Would’ve worked better as an on-the-spot reveal rather than part of the marketing, in my opinion.

When they showed the wishes, the TWST fan in my was shouting, "OMG IT'S WISH UPON A STAR, THE LIMITED TIME STORY EVENT FROM THE HIT DISNEY MOBILE GACHA GAME TWISTED WONDERLAND!!!"

As Wish is Disney's anniversary film for 100 years, there were tooons of easter eggs scattered throughout. (I had fun looking for them!) Some were visual (I saw Aurora's dress, Snow White’s well, Peter's Pan's costume, Ursula's green smokey hands, Asha's robes resembling those of the Fairy Godmother, etc.) or extended imagery/scenes (Asha recreates Mulan's dinner and “Reflection" scenes), others were more overt lines of dialogue (Magnifico says the "Mirror, Mirror" lines along with others, a deer named “Bambi”, Valentino mentions an animal metropolis in reference to Zootopia, etc.).

In theory, the wish magic sounds cool but has so much that isn't explained??? And yeah, it's magic so it technically doesn't have to be. However, there are things not explained even when it is important to the plot. For example, Magnifico crushes some wishes and seems to absorb their power for himself (including the wish of Asha's MOM, so you'd think this would be important)? The consequence of this is that the wish's owners... become sad??? Okay, what are the long-term effects??? Why isn’t this fully explored?? But then later in the film we see the same people whose wishes were crushed... regenerate their wish??? So what, he has to keep reaping them??? And why are the wishes only taken at 18 years old? What if a wish changes? Ironically, the townspeople of Rosas have a scene where they question the technicalities of this wish magic. Magnifico essentially tells them to shut up, and it kinda felt like Disney was telling us to not question their lore www

It was weird that they never fully explored the ramifications of going without your wish. You’d think they’d show us people without ambition or hope (which would incentivize Asha to return their wishes), but everyone seems blissfully happy without their wishes?? The only exception is Asha’s friend that betrays her (cannot for the life of me remember his name), and that’s namely because his asshole friends keep ragging on him for it.

I thought the movie was going to go in a “you can make your own wish come true!!” direction but NOPE, turns out it’s just magic. Felt like Disney unintentionally wrote a whole movie about "wishes not coming true unless some big powerful entity allows it to come true” (Asha literally becomes the fairy godmother of Rosas at the end, making her ultimately no different than Magnifico)… ie a metaphor for how Disney owns so many properties it practically owns our childhoods www

"The power of friendship saves the day" ending 🤣 It was very Paper Mario ending-esque...

A song saving the day though?? It’s giving the Illumination Lorax film…

I was right about the humor. Too "quirky" and/or juvenile for me.

Animation was alright? Nothing awful about it, it just didn't feel as detailed or as experimental as other films with a similar style.

Songs were mid, which checks out with the recent Disney music excluding We Don't Talk About Bruno--

Some of the lyrics however were awful. “I let you live here for free and I don’t even charge you rent” is redundant. “So I throw caution to every warning sign” means you’ll show more caution than usual, not that you’ll forego caution. The correct expression is “throw caution to the wind”. Etc, etc, etc.

There was a cute after credits scene where they reveal that Asha's 100 year old grandpa (same age as Disney omg) wrote the "When You Wish Upon a Star" theme, which was sweet since his wish was "wanting to make a mark".

THE BEST PART OF THE MOVIE WAS STAR!! It was very cute (partly because it couldn't talk and just jingled and giggled, I was dreading another annoying mascot animal voice) and reminds me of my own pet… The way Star infused everything with glitter and formed unique shapes with the red twine was so fun 😭 I'M A STAR STAN, IT WAS ADORABLE AND KINDA BRATTY AND I'M LIVING FOR IT

Decent ideas, "meh" execution. Enchanted and Shrek did it better in terms of self-aware, fairy tale defying stories. It felt as though the movie was trying to deliver a profound message but got lost in the sauce of making as making Disney references possible and didn't fully commit to actually saying something meaningful. As a result, the film feels somewhat… hollow.

That one friend betraying Asha was the biggest surprise in the film but I still saw it coming 😂 I do get where he’s coming from though (being worried that his wish won’t ever come true) but it also felt like his conflict wasn’t resolved??? It might have gone better if the movie actually fully tried to push the “you can make your own wish come true” message (to reinvigorate the traitor to make his dreams a reality on his own) but they don’t 💦

Wish didn’t end up being “the wishing star’s origin story” because not once did anyone question where Star came from or why it was different from other stars (or what the significance of Magnifico blotting out the other stars was).

I think the people that would enjoy this movie are the people that are already highly invested in Disney and the nostalgia of it.

... Anyway, stan Star 🤩 (and the talking mushrooms 🍄)

[frevandrest]

Hérault's Mistresses

Hérault was known as a huge womanizer, to the point where it's said that it's one of the reasons he never married, which is unusual for a noble - his father was 20 and his mother 16 when they married. Apparently, Hérault was matched with an aristocrat woman (girl, probably) but her father heard about his hoeing and demanded he is faithful to his future wife, or else the engagement is off. To which Hérault was like "it's off, then". No idea how truthful this is - it was reported in a royalist bio written by an aristocrat, a descendant of Hérault's biological grandfather (there's a mess surrounding that). But the anecdote doesn't sound so wildly OOC for Hérault, so I can see it.

I only know of three of his mistresses: Sainte-Amaranthe, Suzanne Giroux (or Giroult) de Morency and Adelle de Bellegarde.

I actually know the least about Hérault's relationship with Sainthe Amaranthe, except that she was about 8 years older than him and that, according to what he told Suzanne, "she was clever enough to keep me for a longer time". (Implying that his relationships were typically short.) In 1792, they were no longer together (?) but they remained friends.

Suzanne Giroux de Morency (de Morency is her pen name) was a woman in her early 20s (in 1792) and unhappily married. I found some claims (but absolutely no proof, though I have to look) that Hérault was the one who pushed for legalizing divorce because she asked him to help her (he would, but I think divorce was a super hot subject widely debated even before Hérault hooked up with her, so it's either totally made up, or Hérault boasted about it even though it wasn't technically true - it wouldn't be the first time that he did that (or, possibly, the last, if it's true that he took credit for others' work on the Constitution, as SJ claimed).

In 1792, Suzanne was a mistress of another deputy of the Convention. This didn't bother Hérault (or her) in the slightest. They actually met during a dinner that she attended with her lover and she was smitten on the spot. Hérault kissed her when her lover was not in the room (?) and stole a painting of her to have an artist copy it for him.

Suzanne describes their relationship (along with other stuff, as well as her dealings with other lovers) in her book "Illyrine ou l'éveil de l’inexpérience" [tome 2; tome 3]. Not sure how much of that is true and what's made up, but basic events check out. (Except that there is a possibility that she stole letters Hérault wrote to another woman - Adelle de Bellegarde - and passed them off as letters written to her). In the book, she describes the sex cave (grotto) that they sometimes visited with another couple, but sadly doesn't share any juicy details, except that the experience was "sublime" (and basically, Hérault is the best lover on the face of the Earth and how could any other man ever satisfy her after him).

In the book, she says she was there when Hérault was arrested - that he came to her when he realized that he would be arrested, saying that he "wants to have fun and live one day as it's ten years, so they are arresting an old man" (not the most precise quote - will need to find it- but that's the vibe). And she said he cried a lot in those days before the arrest. She was allegedly there when they arrested him, and she was also arrested and imprisoned for a while, but released.

Finally, Adelle de Bellegarde of the "Sabines" painting fame. Hérault met her when he was a representative on the mission in Savoy in late 1792 (he was dating Suzanne at the time and he told her, basically: "I will be away and I am not faithful. I know you have another lover [that other deputy] so while I am away, think about which one of us you like more so you'll tell me when I get back". And he got back to Paris with Adelle, but still continued to see Suzanne, I believe).

Adelle de Bellegarde was 21 and married (it's a pattern for Hérault - he didn't seduce maidens, not that I know of at least). She had a younger sister who became a lover of another representative that was there with Hérault.

It seems that Hérault cared for her more than usual mistresses, since he brought her to Paris and she remained with him for the rest of his life (this is why I am not 100% sure it was Suzanne who was with him when he was arrested. I mean, maybe - he sure wasn't into monogamy - but I don't necessarily trust Suzanne's word on it).

Anyway, Adelle was one of the reasons he was suspicious, since she was married to a man loyal to the king of Sardinia (which Savoy was part of before France annexed it in 1792), and, it seems (or was suspected) had connections to Austria. During the growing doubt in CSP over Hérault's loyalty, I think it was assumed that Hérault had contacts with the enemy through her (but I have to look more closely into it).

I don't know much about other lovers. There is an interesting (as in: wtf did it come from?) rumour I found at many places, but absolutely unproven: that Hérault and SJ were rivals for the love of the same woman. The woman's identity is not always stated (Claire Lacombe is mentioned, and Sainte Amaranthe?), but the point is that both were interested in the same woman, yet she chose Hérault (implied: of course, since he was better looking/charming/better lover/etc.) As a result, SJ gets super jealous and goes after Hérault, which results in his arrest and death.

Now, I couldn't find any origins of this rumour nor anything substantial. It is very difficult to judge its truthfulness when we know of only two women ever associated with Saint-Just: Thérèse Gellé and Henriette Le Bas (none of which are in any way associated with Hérault). The Sainte Amaranthe rumour is weird, because while there were (mainly post-Thermidor) slanders about SJ being interested in her daughter (that horrid "human coat girl" shit of a story), there are no specific proofs that he was. Plus, why would this cause love rivalry with Hérault? He was the lover of the mother, not daughter. (I wouldn't put it past Hérault to seduce the daughter, but there are zero rumours that connect them).

So, it's really in the realm of the random gossip I think, especially since... well, the rivalry between Hérault and SJ could easily be explained by political reasons (writing of the Constitution, then the whole mess around spy in the CSP), so not sure why the whole love rivals thing? Come to think of it, it's a rare male example of "women bickering because of a man" (you know, a sexist trope that whenever women are in a conflict, it had to be over a man or jealousy over who is prettier, and not about things like politics).

Male Lovers?

That's for female lovers I know of. As for men... We don't know anything for certain. A 100+ page Girondin slander pamphlet from 1793 claims that he started with "antiphysical passions" back when he was 18 and a young advocate general (and that he was even reprimanded for it, but he took no notice and continued). The pamphlet implies that Hérault took male lovers even after that, but provides no proof. So we don't know.

All I can say is that Suzanne tells us about times when Hérault invited another couple to the sex cave with them (so, to an orgy). There are no mentions of what happened, so I can't claim that there was anything same sex going on, but.... "Women swapping" seemed to be a common occurrence among some people, and sometimes, well, it didn't only include m/f stuff. (As in, it was a foursome more than just "I bang your wife and you bang mine"). And tbh, it was easier (more acceptable) to do same sex stuff if there were women present, instead of meeting with another man alone. So, I wouldn't be surprised if those orgy foursomes included same sex stuff, too.