#bc he was ! he puts his whole heart out there

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

Maybe that sparks a bit of inspiration: Single dad Sirius Black who is freshly together with reader (I don’t know what else can happen haha)

The Godson

sirius black x reader - the godson

word count: 3.5k

summary: after a month of dating y/n finally meets sirius’s godson (and adopted son)

warnings: kissing, mostly fluffy lol

a/n: this is set in an au where peter was captured before he could fake his death and was sent to azkaban instead of sirius. as godfather sirius gets custody of harry. i’m really glad this was a single dad sirius and not single mom y/n bc i’m lowkey afraid of children and pregnancy lol

     The clock chimed seven as Y/N stood outside the door of 12 Grimmauld Place, her hand hovering just above the door knocker. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. The house before her looked nothing like she had imagined. Its weathered black brickwork and faintly foreboding aura reminded her of something out of a gothic novel. Yet, as imposing as it seemed, she reminded herself that Sirius lived here. That thought brought a small, reassuring smile to her lips.

     She raised her hand and knocked firmly. The sound echoed in the quiet, and she shuffled slightly on the doorstep, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her coat. A moment later, the door creaked open, and there he was—Sirius Black, all sharp features and unruly dark hair, wearing a casual button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His usual confident smirk was replaced with something softer, almost unsure.

     “You made it,” he said, his voice warm but carrying an edge of nervousness.

     “Of course I did,” Y/N replied, tilting her head slightly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

     Sirius chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair as if he were searching for the right words. “No reason. Just—well, this is a bit new for me, isn’t it?”

     She raised an eyebrow, sensing his nerves. “You alright?”

     He let out a breath and then pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. “I am now,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. The simple affection melted away some of her tension, and she allowed herself to relax against him.

     When he pulled back, there was a twinkle of humor in his gray eyes, though the slight hesitation remained. “Come on in,” he said, stepping aside to let her through.

     Y/N stepped over the threshold, her gaze sweeping over the narrow entryway. The house was as dark and mysterious on the inside as it was on the outside. The wallpaper was faded, and the air carried a faint chill, but there were glimpses of warmth—a vase of fresh flowers on a side table.

     “It’s… cozy,” she said carefully, trying not to seem impolite.

     Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “That’s a generous way to put it.” He motioned for her to follow him. “Come on. Harry’s in the sitting room. He’s been playing with his toys all day, so don’t be surprised if he’s a little shy at first.”

     Y/N nodded, her heart skipping slightly at the thought of meeting Sirius’s adopted son for the first time. This wasn’t just any casual introduction—Sirius had made it clear that Harry was his whole world, and meeting him felt like stepping into a new and important part of Sirius’s life.

     They walked down a short hallway and into the sitting room. The space was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a warm lamp in the corner. In the center of the room, a small boy with messy black hair sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by colorful wooden blocks. He was completely focused on the tower he was building, his little face scrunched up in concentration.

     “Harry,” Sirius said gently, his voice softening as he spoke to the boy. “Someone’s here to meet you.”

     Harry looked up briefly, his bright green eyes—the spitting image of his mother’s—glancing at Y/N before darting back to his father. He immediately scrambled to his feet and hid behind Sirius’s legs, clutching the fabric of his trousers tightly.

     Sirius laughed softly, bending down slightly to ruffle Harry’s hair. “Come on, kiddo. You don’t have to be shy. This is Y/N. Remember I told you about her?”

     Harry peeked out cautiously, his small hands still gripping Sirius’s legs.

     Y/N crouched down to his level, her voice gentle. “Hi, Harry. It’s really nice to meet you.” She smiled, trying to make herself as approachable as possible.

     Harry didn’t respond, his face half-hidden behind Sirius.

     Sirius straightened up and gave Y/N an apologetic smile. “He takes a little while to warm up to people. Give him a minute.”

     Instead of pushing Harry further, Sirius reached out and took Y/N’s hand, leading her toward the spot where Harry had been sitting. They knelt on the floor next to the half-built tower of blocks.

     “Alright, kiddo,” Sirius said, his tone light and encouraging. “Why don’t you tell Y/N about your tower? It looks pretty impressive.”

     Harry hesitated for a moment, still clinging to Sirius’s leg, but then his curiosity seemed to get the better of him. He let go and stepped closer, though he stayed partially behind Sirius.

     Y/N leaned forward, examining the tower with a playful seriousness. “Wow, did you build this all by yourself? It’s amazing!”

     Harry’s lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile creeping onto his face. He nodded shyly.

     “It’s the tallest one I’ve made,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

     “Really?” Y/N said, her eyes widening in mock amazement. “You must be an expert builder. I could never make a tower this cool.”

      That seemed to do the trick. Harry stepped out from behind Sirius entirely, moving closer to his blocks. “I made it so it doesn’t fall over,” he said, a little louder this time. “See? If you push it like this—” He gave the side of the tower a gentle nudge, and it wobbled but didn’t topple. “—it stays up!”

     Y/N gasped, clapping her hands. “That’s so clever! How did you figure that out?”

     Harry beamed, the last traces of his shyness melting away as he began to explain the “secrets” of building sturdy towers. His words tumbled out in an excited stream, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

      Sirius watched the two of them, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. He settled himself on the floor beside them, leaning back on his hands as Harry continued to chatter away to Y/N about his blocks and the other toys scattered around the room.

     Y/N glanced at Sirius briefly, her heart swelling at the sight of him so at ease with his son. He caught her gaze and gave her a wink, as if to say, See? Told you he’d come around.

     Sirius cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “I’m going to grab us some drinks. Will you be alright with Harry for a few minutes?”

     Y/N glanced up at him with a smile. “Of course. Take your time.”

     He hesitated for just a fraction of a second, as if double-checking whether she meant it. Then he gave a small nod and pushed himself to his feet. “You behave for Y/N, yeah?” He said as he passed Harry.

     Harry looked up at him and nodded solemnly.

     As Sirius disappeared into the kitchen, Y/N leaned back on her hands, watching as Harry carefully adjusted the top of his tower. The room was quiet for a moment, the soft sound of the blocks clicking together the only noise.

     Then, with a sudden burst of energy, Harry stood up and darted to the end table near the couch. Y/N straightened slightly, curious as to what he was up to.

     “Look!” Harry exclaimed, holding something tightly in his small hand as he ran back toward her.

     “What’s that, Harry?” Y/N asked, sitting upright as he plopped down onto the floor beside her.

     With great care, Harry opened his chubby fist to reveal a small Polaroid photograph. He held it up proudly, his face beaming. “It’s you!” he declared.

      Y/N blinked in surprise and leaned forward to get a closer look. She reached out and gently took the photo from his hands, her eyes widening as she recognized it immediately.

     It was from about two months ago— a couple weeks before they started dating— at one of the small get-togethers Sirius and his friends seemed to have so often. She remembered the evening clearly—the room had been filled with laughter and warmth, she had been next to Sirius almost the entire night. Remus had been in rare form, cracking joke after joke. 

     The photo was taken when Remus had accidentally hit the shutter on his camera. Y/N was mid-laugh, her hand resting on Sirius’s shoulder, clearly reacting to something ridiculous Remus had said. Her head was tilted slightly, her eyes crinkled with amusement. But what caught her attention wasn’t herself—it was Sirius. He was looking at her as if she were the only person in that room. 

     Y/N let out a soft laugh, though her voice wavered slightly. “Where did you find this, Harry?” she asked, her tone light but curious.

     “Uncle Sirius keeps it here,” Harry said matter-of-factly, pointing back toward the end table.

     “He does, does he?” Y/N murmured, her lips curving into a small smile. She turned the photo over in her hand, noticing that the back was blank—no date, no scribbled note. Just the image itself.

     Harry nodded enthusiastically, clearly proud of his discovery. “Do you like it?”

     “I do,” Y/N said, her voice warm. “It’s a great picture.”

     Just as she finished speaking, a sound came from the doorway. She glanced up to see Sirius standing there, two glasses in his hands. He had paused mid-step, his eyes flicking between her and the photo she still held. His cheeks were dusted with the faintest hint of pink, and for a moment, he looked almost sheepish.

     “Ah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I see Harry showed you his favorite picture.”

     Y/N raised an eyebrow, holding the photo up slightly. “His favorite?”

     He let out a short laugh, walking into the room and setting the glasses down on the coffee table. “Our favorite,” he said, the blush on his face deepened.

     Y/N didn’t press him further, but her smile widened. She set the picture on her lap, her fingers lightly brushing its edge as Sirius crouched down beside Harry.

      “Alright, kiddo,” Sirius said, his voice softening as he focused on his son. “It’s time for bed.”

      Harry immediately groaned, flopping onto his back in a dramatic show of protest. “But I’m not tired!”

     “Hmm,” Sirius said, tilting his head. “That’s funny, because I could’ve sworn I saw you rubbing your eyes just five minutes ago.”

     “I wasn’t!” Harry insisted, though his argument was half-hearted at best.

     Sirius chuckled and reached out to scoop the boy into his arms, lifting him effortlessly. “Come on, mate. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”

     Harry pouted but didn’t resist, resting his head against Sirius’s shoulder. As they made their way toward the door, Sirius glanced back at Y/N, his expression softening.

     “Won’t be long,” he said.

     “It’s alright,” Y/N replied, her tone light.

     Once they were gone, the room fell quiet again. Y/N let out a small breath, her gaze drifting back to the photo still on her lap. She studied it for a moment longer before carefully placing it back on the end table.

━━━━━━━•✧°•°𓅦°•°✧•━━━━━━━

     Reaching Harry’s room, Sirius nudged the door open with his foot. The room was cozy, filled with all the comforts a child could want—soft blankets, a well-loved stuffed stag that Harry refused to sleep without, and shelves lined with books and toys. The walls were painted a calming blue, and enchanted stars hung above the bed, softly twinkling.

     Sirius lowered Harry onto the bed, careful not to jostle him too much. Harry let out a sleepy little sigh as Sirius tucked him in, pulling the blankets up snugly around him.

     “There we go,” Sirius murmured, brushing a strand of dark hair from Harry’s forehead. “All nice and cozy. You should sleep like a dragon tonight.”

      Harry giggled softly, his eyes fluttering open to look at Sirius. “Dragons don’t sleep,” he said, his voice quiet but insistent.

     “Of course they do,” Sirius replied, settling on the edge of the bed. “How else do you think they get their energy to fly around and breathe fire all day?”

     Harry considered this for a moment before nodding, satisfied with the answer. His tiny hands clutched the stuffed stag tightly, and he wriggled slightly to get comfortable.

     “Uncle?” Harry’s voice was soft, almost hesitant.

     “Hmm?” Sirius replied, leaning back against the headboard, his gaze warm as he watched Harry.

     “Is Y/N gonna be my new mummy?”

     The question hit Sirius like a gust of wind, unexpected but not entirely surprising. He blinked, momentarily unsure of how to respond. Harry’s green eyes—so much like Lily’s—stared up at him, wide and innocent, waiting for an answer.

     Sirius chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, mate,” he said gently. “Y/N’s not your mummy.”

      Harry frowned slightly, hugging the stuffed stag closer. “But… she’s really nice,” he said, his voice laced with the kind of earnestness only a child could muster.

     “She is,” Sirius agreed, his lips curving into a small smile. “She’s very nice.” He reached out to ruffle Harry’s hair, earning a quiet giggle. “But your mummy is Lily, remember? She and your dad loved you so much, and that’s never going to change.”

     Harry nodded slowly, his little face thoughtful. “But you’re my daddy now, right?”

      Sirius felt his chest tighten at the question. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he looked down at Harry. “I’m your godfather,” he said after a moment. “That means I get to take care of you and keep you safe.”

     Harry nodded sleepily, his eyelids starting to droop.

      Sirius reached out and gently patted Harry’s shoulder. “Now, close those eyes and get some rest.”

     Harry’s lips twitched into a faint smile as he finally let his eyes fall shut. Sirius sat there for a moment longer, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he drifted off.

     Standing, Sirius leaned down to press a light kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, kiddo,” he murmured before quietly slipping out of the room. 

     The soft creak of the floorboards signaled Sirius’s return long before Y/N saw him. She glanced up as he stepped into the sitting room, his dark hair slightly tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it a few times. His gaze landed on her, and his lips curved into an easy smile that didn’t quite mask the faint trace of something thoughtful in his expression.

     “Harry’s out like a light,” he said, walking over to the couch and sinking into the cushions beside her.

     “That was fast,” Y/N replied with a small smile, shifting slightly to make room for him.

     “Four-year-olds don’t last long once they’ve decided to give in,” Sirius said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

     He leaned forward, reaching for the glass of whiskey he’d left on the coffee table earlier. But before he could take a sip, Y/N snatched it from his hand, her fingers brushing against his as she did.

     “Hey!” he protested, though his tone was more surprised than annoyed.

     Y/N raised the glass to her lips, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she took a small sip. “I’m thirsty,” she teased, handing it back to him with an innocent shrug.

     Sirius let out a laugh, a rich, warm sound that filled the room. “Stealing from a poor, hardworking man in his own home,” he said, shaking his head as he set the glass back down on the table.

     Before she could reply, he leaned back and looped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer until her side was pressed against his. It was an easy, intimate gesture, and Y/N felt her heart give a little flutter at the warmth of his touch.

     For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the quiet hum of the house wrapping around them. Then, Y/N turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on Sirius’s profile—the sharp line of his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble, the way his dark eyes seemed lost in thought as he stared ahead.

     She reached up, gently brushing her fingers along his cheek to get his attention. When he turned to look at her, she leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to his lips.

     But he didn’t kiss her back.

     Y/N pulled away almost immediately, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I—”

    “No,” Sirius interrupted softly, his hand still resting on her shoulder. He sighed, shifting slightly so he could face her fully. His fingers moved to the back of her neck, his thumb brushing idly against her skin in slow, soothing strokes.

     Y/N searched his face, her brow furrowing. “Is everything alright?”

     Sirius hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to the floor before meeting hers again. “I’ve just been thinking,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “Wondering if… if it was too soon for Harry to meet you.”

     “Oh,” Y/N said, her heart sinking slightly. She sat up straighter, creating a small distance between them. “I—I understand. If you think it was too soon, we can… I don’t know, maybe I could come over when he’s already in bed? Or we could spend time at my flat instead?”

     Her suggestion came quickly, almost too quickly, as if she were trying to fix something that didn’t necessarily need fixing. But Sirius shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

     “Maybe I was wrong,” he said, his voice softening.

     Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

     Sirius’s hand on the back of her neck slid upward, his fingers threading gently into her hair. At the same time, his other hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, resting against her waist. His touch was firm but not forceful, and the warmth of his palm against her skin sent a shiver down her spine.

     “I mean,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky tone, “maybe it’s good for Harry to have a feminine presence around here. Someone kind and patient who can put up with my nonsense.”

     Y/N’s breath hitched as his grip on her waist tightened, pulling her just slightly closer. Her hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

     “Sirius,” she began, her voice wavering, but he didn’t let her finish.

     His other hand slid further into her hair, his fingers curling gently as he pulled her in. When his lips met hers this time, it wasn’t soft or hesitant—it was urgent, almost desperate. Sirius kissed her like he was afraid to stop, like he was trying to convey something through the intensity of it that he couldn’t put into words.

     A soft moan escaped him, and the sound sent a wave of heat rushing through Y/N. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as she kissed him back, matching his fervor.

     The world outside seemed to disappear—there was only him, the warmth of his hands, the rough scrape of his stubble against her skin, the way his lips moved against hers with such precision it left her breathless.

     The warmth of Sirius’s hands against Y/N’s skin was intoxicating, his touch tender as his lips moved hungrily against hers. The room around them seemed to fade away. Sirius’s fingers trailed up her back, beneath her shirt, as he deepened the kiss.

     Y/N melted into him, her hands curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. His lips were insistent, as though he couldn’t get enough of her, and every now and then, a soft groan escaped him, reverberating against her lips and making her pulse race.

     But just as Sirius shifted to pull her fully into his lap, a small voice shattered the moment.

     “Uncle Sirius?”

     They sprang apart instantly, both turning toward the doorway where Harry stood clutching his stuffed stag, his dark curls messy from tossing and turning in bed. His wide eyes blinked at them sleepily, completely unaware of the moment he’d just interrupted.

     Sirius cleared his throat, running a hand through his tousled hair as he tried to compose himself. “Harry, what’s wrong, kid?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

     Harry shuffled into the room, dragging the stuffed toy along the floor. “I can’t sleep,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with a chubby fist.

     Y/N sat frozen on the couch, her cheeks still flushed and her heart pounding from the sudden interruption. She tried to calm herself, smoothing her hands over her lap as Harry climbed onto the couch beside Sirius.

     “What’s keeping you up?” Sirius asked, pulling Harry into his lap and brushing a hand through the boy’s unruly hair.

     Harry shrugged, and plopped himself right onto Y/N’s lap, his small hands clutching at her shirt as he snuggled against her.

     Y/N stiffened, her hands hovering awkwardly in the air. She glanced at Sirius, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

     Sirius’s brow furrowed slightly as he reached out, clearly noticing her hesitation. “Harry, maybe you should—”

     “It’s alright,” Y/N interrupted quickly, her voice soft but firm.

     She looked down at Harry, who had already settled against her like he belonged there. Slowly, cautiously, she placed her arms around him, her hands resting gently on his back. Harry let out a small, contented sigh, his grip on his stuffed stag loosening as his eyes began to droop.

     Sirius watched the exchange, his concern melting into something softer, something that made his chest tighten in the best way. He leaned back into the couch, his posture relaxing as he draped an arm over Y/N’s shoulder.

     “You’re good at this,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with admiration.

     Y/N glanced up at him, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “He makes it easy,” she replied quietly, her fingers brushing lightly against Harry’s back.

     Sirius’s heart swelled at her words. For a moment, he simply watched them—Y/N holding his godson with such gentle care, Harry’s small form tucked safely in her arms. It was a picture of something he hadn’t realized he’d been longing for.

     As Harry’s breathing slowed and his grip on his stuffed animal went slack, Sirius leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N’s temple. “Thank you,” he whispered, his lips lingering against her skin for a moment.

     Y/N didn’t respond, but the way she leaned into his touch told him all he needed to know.

[deadpoets]

DEAD POETS SOCIETY (1989) dir. Peter Weir

[introspectivememories]

im sorry but i choose to believe that tim drake is the most insufferable "my man, my man, my man" girl about bear. he does not shut up about him. steph is cooking smth in the kitchen? oh my man can do that. bear cooks really well. dick triaging some poor victim on an emergency site? oh my man is really good at that. mhmm, bear is on his way to becoming a paramedic. damian building something? oh my man is really good with power tools. have you ever seen him build ikea? it takes him less than an hour. for our anniversary, he built me a coffee table. mhmm isn't he amazing? yeah my man did that. yeah my man, mhmm that's my ma-

[peachyutdr]

i finished it, was kicked out of the game, and then spent the next 10 minutes drawing this. i will now go take a shower, most likely cry, and then go through the emotional turmoil of convincing myself to reset so i can do a geno run. i hate it here :D

[huidol]

happy valentines 👍 day

[p4nishers]

thinking about the relationship between mightily oats' "the worthwhile [words] don't burn" and constable dorfl's "the words in the heart cannot be taken"

[thegreatyin]

ive officially entered the stage of OC brainrot where i start putting him in outfits for fun and (zero) profit

[romidoes]

— my heart is yours to take

[zoennes]

25 NOVEMBER, 2019 ✦ MAANDAG, 20:02

[aleixis]

how to talk to a sweet funny cute guy who says he likes u but u wanna take it slowly and get to know him first but ur scared that he's gonna lose interest once he gets to know u cus ur kinda weird no borax no glue

[bucket-of-grass]

“I forgive you” he doesn’t NEED to be FORGIVEN he doesn’t WANT to be forgiven for who he is or how he feels, he doesn’t WANT to be an angel again because he would much prefer the person he is and the people they are NOW and thats like saying the person he is now the person that he has become after falling and growing ISNT THE PERSON AZIRAPHALE WANTS HIM TO BE, LIKE— the person that Crowley is after falling and falling in love with humanity is THE. CROWLEY. that could fall in love with Aziriphale, omfg, I love this fucking show oml

[mars-ipan]

looks at you . realllyyyyy hard.............. hey................ can u tell me more about sinner hajime bearding w. chiaki and his shame over it im thinking about it and how it affects him real bad.. r they dating married.. r they just a random fling i need to know the deets i need the DEETS!!!!!!!!! sits down

OK SO. i have NOT spent a lot of time on this so bear with me bc i’m mostly figuring this part out as i go. it’s going under a cut tho bc i know myself

ok. to start with. chiaki is one of the first people hajime meets when he moves in— they’re neighbors and in true midwestern fashion she brings him a casserole as a welcome gift. from there they become fast friends! i think, like most people in town, chiaki goes to church on sundays, but she isn’t there often outside of that. she’ll show up to events and volunteer from time to time, though! maybe she occasionally helps at sunday school. maybe it’s her that gets hajime thinking about trying to confess in the first place! she’d never pressure him into going or imply that he had any particular sins to confess, but i think hearing someone he trusts speak highly of the priest there would get him thinking.

anywho. chiaki ends up introducing hajime to a few of her friends, though he doesn’t really connect with them too deeply. they all get along nicely though, and while hajime does have his Guilt following him at all times he feels a bit better after he hangs out with her and her friends— takes his mind off of things for a bit. she has a rabbit named usami, too! she reminds hajime of some of the animals he helped raise on the farm back home. but hajime and chiaki end up basically being besties not long after hajime’s moved in. chiaki eventually develops feelings for hajime, and since she trusts him to be kind regardless of whether he reciprocates, she tells him almost right away. hajime is ecstatic— this is an opportunity! a girl, a nice girl who likes him. if there was any girl that hajime could fall in love with, it’d be her. and if he loves her, then he won’t have any of these other thoughts! he won’t be wondering what his priest looks like under the robes if he has a girlfriend— it’s perfect! so he says yes, and they begin to date.

hajime tells Father Komaeda basically immediately— he’s excited! look, Father, your teachings are working! i’m in a heterosexual relationship, this is what God wants! except…. komaeda isn’t as enthusiastic as hajime expects. supportive, absolutely, his smile as bright as ever, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. he doesn’t celebrate. he tells hajime he’s happy for him— chiaki’s a lovely girl, after all— but reminds him that resisting temptation is not a one and done battle. going out with chiaki is a step in the right direction, absolutely. however, he warns, hajime shouldn’t be too surprised if he finds himself struggling to shake away his impure thoughts. these things don’t disappear overnight. in fact, they should continue their lessons to help make sure that hajime can stay on this path to the light. hajime agrees immediately, thanking komaeda for his wisdom. still, though, he feels positive about this! having someone else to focus on will make leaving behind these unwanted lusts much easier.

except… hajime can’t make himself want her, not in that way. he tries. god, he tries. he loves chiaki, truly he does, but he doesn’t feel as fuzzy as he thinks he should when he holds her hand. kissing her feels like kissing a wall. he freezes up uncomfortably every time she tries to initiate anything further, and, saint that she is, she backs off every time without any hard feelings. he enjoys spending time with her, and holding her, but he’s not… he can’t get himself to desire her. not to mention, the impure desires haven’t gone away, not at all. they’re just as bad as they were before— in fact, they seem to slowly be getting worse. he doesn’t know what to do. hajime cares about chiaki, so much, and he doesn’t want to hurt her. she’s his best friend, and the last thing he wants to do is break her heart. plus, if he breaks up with her, then isn’t that like admitting defeat to his sins? like saying he can’t overcome them? and if he breaks up with her, what does he even say? that he can’t bring himself to be attracted to her? that he’s never been able to think of her in that way, only with… no. there’s no way he can tell her that, she’ll be disgusted. but he hates the idea of lying to her and stringing her along. his only option is to keep trying. he’ll be a better boyfriend, he’ll fall in love, he has to. she deserves someone who loves her, and maybe he can be that someone, if he just keeps trying.

hajime confesses all of this to Father Komaeda, of course, who hears all of it and simply nods. while he agrees that hajime should keep the true nature of his thoughts from her, he also subtly suggests that hajime break off the relationship if he’s not in love with her— lying is a sin, too, and true, holy love cannot be forced into being. perhaps they’re simply better off as friends?

hajime thinks about that advice, but he can’t bring himself to do it. he doesn’t want to hurt her, and he especially doesn’t want to lose her.

here’s the thing. chiaki is observant. she’s just that kind of person, she’s a good judge of emotion. she can tell that hajime seems uncomfortable showing affection to her, even if he’s trying. at first, she chalks it up to nerves, but when it doesn’t go away and almost seems to get worse, she starts to wonder what’s wrong, why he doesn’t seem to be that into her. so she looks a little closer. she notices that hajime prays a lot more often now than when he first moved in. she hears him mumble to himself when he thinks she isn’t listening, things about being wrong and having to try harder, having to be better. she knew from the start that hajime has some deep insecurities— he’s not very good at hiding it— but it’s worse than she thought. hajime’s been going to church near-daily now, and when she goes with him to mass on sundays she sees the way he watches the sermon, almost enraptured. she knows he gets along well with Father Komaeda— in fact, she’d consider them close friends. eventually, she notices things— hajime blushes with his whole face… when Father Komaeda is close to him. he sings the Father’s praises regularly, often thanking chiaki for telling him about the church so he could find his faith again. in moments of vulnerability, hajime has told her that he confesses somewhat frequently— what about, he never told her, but he assured her that he hadn’t hurt anybody so she never pressed him about it. the pieces click into place, and oh… oh, hajime.

unlike hajime, chiaki has nothing against homosexuality. she believes that god’s love comes in many forms, and so long as the people in a relationship truly love each other, then it doesn’t really matter what gender they are, does it? at first, she’s a bit hurt that hajime didn’t tell her, but she quickly reminds herself that hajime seems to deeply resent this part of himself— chances are, he’s yet to even accept it. she hurts for him, i think. she doesn’t like seeing her best friend be so cruel to himself over how he loves. she keeps up the relationship for a couple weeks, to give him the chance to tell her. when it’s clear that he doesn’t plan on telling anyone anytime soon, she decides to take matters into her own hands.

when chiaki approaches hajime and tells him she thinks they’d be better off as friends, he panics. he practically begs her to stay together, asks what he did wrong, promises he’ll do whatever it takes to keep this relationship alive, anything. chiaki looks at him softly, takes his hands in hers, and tells him that it’s okay, he hasn’t done anything wrong. she knows how much he cares about her, but there’s nothing either of them can do if they simply aren’t romantically compatible. “you can’t help who you love,” she tells him. hajime’s breath seems to stutter at that, and he pulls her into a tight hug, apologizing and sobbing gently into her shoulder. it’s a bit awkward physically, since chiaki’s pretty short in comparison to hajime, but she holds him as best she can. when he eventually pulls back, she tells him that they’ll always be best friends, okay? hajime sniffles, smiles, apologizes for breaking down like that, and agrees. best friends. he still doesn’t tell her. she doesn’t ask him to. he’ll tell her when he’s ready.

hajime tells komaeda about the breakup less than 24 hours after it happens. komaeda offers him a kind, gentle smile, clearly meant to reassure him. it reaches his eyes. “i’m sorry things didn’t work out, but i’m grateful you were able to maintain your friendship,” he says. he promises hajime that being single won’t doom him, and that he can still be freed of his sin even if he doesn’t have a nice girl to settle down with at the moment. they will continue their guidance, and one day hajime will be purified. hajime thanks his priest for all he’s done for him. Father Komaeda says he’d do anything to help someone dear see the glory of God.

[frnkiebby]

so is this like the our father of FrankWhores??

are we a cult now??

the FWC??~🎃

[reel-fear]

MIKE BLOCKED ME ON TWITTER FOR ROASTING HIS DUMBASS RESPONSE TO THE GRAPHIC NOVEL STUFF!!

grown ass man scared of the 19-year-old queer being mean to him over his public meltdown more at 8.

[piltoverstararchive]

💗 !

shipping ask! | Accepting Send 💗 if you are willing to ship our muses platonically.

OK LISTEN!!!! When I say that Jayce is her favorite person I mean it because he gets her on the level of not only her mission and goals, but her adoration for building things and also someone who supports not only what she does in Piltover but what she does in Zaun! Absolutely her big brother, her mentor too she might not admit that latter part though until way way wayyyyyy later! I also think to a degree he understands her struggles with the weight of the world on her shoulders that no one else does so genuinely she feels understood and like she genuinely has a friendship built out of true trust and understanding. I know there is a similar relationship between him and Caitlyn but foundationally especially if we run with the idea he helped her and her dad fix and adjust her hearing aids, the profound impact from that alone means sorry hes automatically adopted into her family meaning lots of home made gifts, food and treats CONSTANTLY, holiday invites, the general check-in's whenever things are really difficult. Like, that is HER BROTHER, and everyone is aware she makes sure.

[slashersweethearts]

every time i ponder the meliwes orb i get a little emo out of guilt. i am so sorry white boy wes n i say this as melina’s #1 defender she did NOT deserve that boy 😭