#just not the one that left impression on me that's all

[pineapplepr1nc3ss888]

HOW TO REVISE:

revision is the thought of rewriting a past event that you wish to have occurred, you immerse yourself in that feeling and you affirm/visualise your desired outcome and act as if it’s true.

do not fear this, you have to remember you are the creator and get yourself out of the victim mentality. revision is changing past events to your desired outcome and it’s nothing to be scared of, whatever you revise will reflect what you have assumed/manifested.

reality as i have said before is completely malleable because it’s fluid. you shift yourself to a state/reality where these events never ever happened. it is extremely easy. you can revise anything you want.

death for example, a loved one died in your reality? you will shift when you immerse yourself in the feeling they’re alive or affirm/visualise they never died then you shift to a reality where this person never died. that is ALL you are doing. revision is shifting your awareness to a reality where it never happened. it can be anything.

these are some success stories from Sammy’s Mermaid Gang, all creds goes to the people who posted them but using these for examples that anything is possible:

I cured my grandpa when he was in his death bed!!!

“So guys I'm so grateful and happy that my grandpa is doing so much better now so what happened was 10 days back my grandpa got very sick everyone around us including my family members n doctors said that he won't survive the day everyone was preparing themselves for his demise but I decided that wasn't fuckin happening i kept revising in my head that he's alright and though he kept getting worse I kept staying positive and I even told my mom to just affirm but she just yelled at me calling me immature and everything so i didn't tell anyone n kept affirming in my mind, even though everyone was so worried at home i kept calm and didn't worry much and now I just went n visited my grandpa after few days n he's almost back to normal he's doing great I'm so happy ❤️”

another:

“I REVISED MY GRANDMOTHER’S PERCEIVED DEATH.

to make a long story short, she was in the ICU on a ventilator and i only had about 3-4 days of rampaging before they would take her off. i persisted and affirmed that she’s healthy and well over 30000 times on the counter app and even more in my head alone. i was anxious and fearful the entire time but persisted anyways. yesterday was the day and there was NO movement or signs that she was doing better. my family and i were in a video chat saying our last goodbyes to her. i was at work and had to hang up, so i was under the impression that she didn’t make it after they took her off the ventilator. i was told that she “lived a long life”. i couldn’t comprehend what happened because i KNEW i was persisting and the law is foolproof, so i affirmed more for her before bed and left it at that.

i woke up to news that she actually survived throughout the night BREATHING ON HER OWN WITH OXYGEN ONLY and that the hospital will be sending her home because there’s nothing they can do for her and she’s completely stable. i called multiple family members CONFUSED saying i thought she died and the responses i got were: no, she didn’t die. who told you that? despite everyone being gathered together in the hospital crying the night before…

the only explanation i have for this is that i shifted realities. because persisted anyways despite the 3d evidence (old story) and perception of her dying, my new assumptions came to pass and everything else before that ceased to exist. i’ve never manifested anything like this before. i’m going to keep affirming until she’s fully healthy.”

this is revising age:

“This is my second time revising my age... First time I did it was I was turning 26 and I wanted to join a certain competition with the age limit of 24! So I revised my age to 23... I kept telling myself that I was born in 1994, even my birthday certificate shows I was born in 1994, and that no body not even my own mother remember my old age...

Here comes the interesting part.. 2weeks before the registration deadline my birthday certificate went missing and I always had it with me... But it disappeared completely, and I couldn't find it so I asked my dad if it was possible to make another for me, since my information was already in the system so it was going to be easy to make a new one so I could finalize my registration... Here comes an interesting part when my new certificate came it said I was born on June 7, 1994.. when in actuality I was born in 1991, I asked my father why is it saying I was born in 1994... He looked at me surprised and told me it's because that's when I was born, I said no dad I was born in 1991, he started laughing and told "are you on drugs or something, I am your father so I Know when you were born"

I swear I couldn't believe it even though I asked for it I was the one who was left surprised

People always love to ask the change of documents... just know If that's what you want your documents will change don't ask how, just know they will change by any means necessary!i The changes can happen naturally just like my school certificate changed on their own, or something will happen that will require the making of new documents with the dates you were affirming”

this one was inspired by someone else who erased a 3p (third party aka someone who interferes in your life” and this 3p was literally her husbands ex wife but she erased them from their reality which meant she shifted to a reality where this person NEVER existed do not ask me about what happens to the old reality stop worrying about it you are the creator what you say fucking goes but anyways:

“So long story short I've been revising to change the past since I saw a comment under Sammy's post, which claims that she erased the 3p like they never even existed in her reality using affirmations. I think well maybe I'll try this shit out with my SP.

The affirmation I used was pretty straightforward:

I am the only person my SP has ever knew online

And guess what happened, after robotically affirming everyday along with some other revision affirmations for some time, my revision has happened. I wavered a lot and the old story kept playing in my mind all the time! But I never gave up, I persisted in my affirmations. My SP got back in contact with me just a few hours ago, when I asked about the 3ps, she said she never knew anyone like those and I'm the only one she has ever knew online.

At this point I was still skeptical about it so I went on Twitter to check about it, to my surprise SP's Twitter account has disappeared into the thin air like she never even on Twitter and all the 3ps' traces are gone too like they never even existed! And SP even confessed her feelings to me saying that she's been wanting me from the moment she saw me (That's my another revision affirmation)

Wow, this revision shit is so powerful, I just get to know loa a couple months back and law of assumption about three or four months and I can still pull this off. I just want to remind y'all we can all make it cuz it's our reality, we literally get to change and delete any shit that doesn't serve us anymore like they never even existed from the first place!”

this is health revision:

“YEAHH! Health revision success story here!

Last week I had my right knee swollen and couldn’t move so that I went to hospital to take a MRI image. The doctor said that there was a tumour in my right knee and in a super deep position, she suggested me to have an operation as soon as possible and gave me cephalosporin for diminishing the inflammation. After I got home, I started repeating affirmations:”My knee works normally, I’m feeling so great, I have never had any health problem.”

Yesterday I took the MRI image for further consultation and turned out that the tumour was GONE and my right knee was fine like nothing happened. The doctor was like:” Your knee is totally fine, why are you here? Maybe inflammation but it’s just fine.”

Revise it if you don’t like the situation! Producing miracles is easy as breathing🪄✨”

and last one, this girl revised being in hospital she shifted from the hospital to her own house:

“I Know I've had my share of big and small manifestations,... But what happened 4 days ago has to be my top tier manifestation, My biggest Manifestation ever! Even as I am writing this, I am shaking! Here we go....

4 days ago I went for a morning walk, on my way back home I was tired and wished someone could offer me a ride to my house, few minutes later a man stopped his bike and offered me a ride and i said sure, as we were about to reach my destination we got into a really bad accident, it was dark really quick and the next thing I know, it's hours later I am in the hospital with a wounded body full of bandages and a fixed broken leg,... I mean now I am so confused, nothing feels right anymore and I started panicking and shouting "this can't be real blah blah blah....." They injected me and I went back to sleep when I work up again, I was about to throw another tantrum but I caught myself and said "Renee(that what I call my Goddess self), You got this, this is just a bad dream, it can't be real how can this be real when you haven't even woken up, you are still home in your bed" I kept telling myself that, with tears in my eyes, deep down I was like I know I can shift realities but can this be possible today... I had doubts but I kept repeating my story to myself till I fall a sleep, I woke up and my mother was there, she was crying 😭💔.. I almost gave up and accept that reality but gathered all my strength and persisted even harder! I went to sleep again and I was awakened by my mom's voice calling me by my name and telling me, "You usually go for a morning walk, why are you asleep till this time"

Now, I think I am loosing my mind like how is it even possible... I asked my mom where are we? She laughed and asked me what do I mean, of course we are home, I asked her surprisingly "not the hospital?" She looked at me confused like "why would we be in the hospital, who is sick?" I hugged her and " No one mom, I just had a nightmare, please just hug me" I am perfectly fine not even a stretch on my body

Happy New Year to me!

Happy New Year to Y'all!”

NOW WAKE TF UP!!

no seriously wake up and fucking learn your own power, absolutely no one can do this except for yourself. stop asking others to shift or manifest for you no one can do this except you! you are the fucking creator of your reality no one else is. YOU ARE A MF GOD!

stop whinging, stop crying, finish your little pity party. you are a god, if you need to cry let those damn emotions out and once you’re done then get your ass back on to affirming.

no more complaining.

no more victim mindset.

if you want something then you need to persist in that assumption that desire is already true, affirm it’s true, visualise its true. this year is yours, you just have to step into your mf power. work on your self concept, affirm you are a master at manifesting, you manifest instantly etc it’s that simple.

stop accepting things you don’t want. you don’t like something that’s happened? revise it. you don’t like this 3p? revise them cos 3p who? 🙄 and no you don’t have to revise they never existed just revise whatever the situation is like they never dated your SP or they were never your friend. whatever you want!! REVISE REVISE REVISE!!!!!!!

ps. stop glorifying the void as the answer to your problems, sure it’s instant but you can also just affirm you manifest instantly you just have to have the concept or belief you manifest instantly and your subconscious will make whatever you manifest instantly happen.

act like a god, be the god you are, claim back your power from the 3d, revise shit you don’t like, work on your self concept. just be the fucking god you are and say this is my reality bitch and make that 3d your fucking bitch💋

[fireinmoonshot]

drabble dump 1 | joaquín torres x reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Reader Summary: Three small drabbles inspired by your headcanons (and one of mine): Joaquín giving you flowers, crying during movies and following his fans online. Warnings: I don't think there are any. Word Count: 691 A/N: I'm feeling super tired tonight so I didn't have the energy to focus on a larger fic, so I decided to write a couple of smaller drabbles inspired by some of the headcanons you guys left on that post I made the other day as well as one of my own. I will probably end up doing a few posts like this since they're quite fun. They're really just smaller drabbles that don't necessarily need to be longer 1k+ fics, so I hope you guys find them fun!

Giving you flowers.

The first time Joaquin ever met you, he brought you flowers. He had no idea what your favourite type of flowers were or if you even liked flowers. But he wanted to make a good impression on you on your first date and flowers had seemed the way to go.

He’d been raised well by his parents. His mother had always taught him to be a gentleman and he’d grown up hearing stories from his father all about how he won over his mother with flowers and gifts and many, many dates. 

Joaquin intended to do the same thing to you. He liked you from the very moment he met you, and so he made a deal with himself – every date, he would bring you a bouquet of flowers that was different from the last. He wouldn’t repeat anything and he would get more and more creative with each bouquet. 

Because if Joaquin was going to win you over like his father won over his mother, he was going to put in as much effort as it took. He was certain that you were the one.

~~

Reading comments about himself online.

Joaquin laughed, looking down at his phone screen. He was silent for a moment and then he laughed again. You looked at him, sitting in bed beside him. Your book was open in front of you but you couldn’t help but want to know what was so funny.

“What are you looking at?” You asked.

He looked over at you and then shuffled a little closer towards you in bed, angling his phone screen to you so you could look at it. “I’m just reading comments about Falcon,” he explained. “Look at this one – the old Falcon has nothing on the new guy. Did you see the way he kicked that guy right out of the air in one shot? That’s about me!” 

You looked at your boyfriend for a moment and then laughed. “How many of these fan accounts do you follow, baby? Wait – is that an edit of you? Where did they even get that footage? I didn’t think you posted anything on social media.”

Joaquin’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t… but I do have a fan account… for myself… and sometimes I post videos on there and call them ‘never before seen content’ and the fans really love them. As long as they don’t put two and two together and realise I’m the one posting them…” 

~~

Sobbing while he watches a movie.

Ever since you met Joaquin you knew that deep down, the man was a softie at heart. If you cried, odds were he was going to start crying as well. If you were happy, he was happy too. Your emotions always rubbed off on him. But there was one thing about him that you never expected: the fact that he cries like a baby in movies that aren’t even that sad.

“Baby,” you glanced over at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Are you crying?”

He sniffed, wiping his cheeks. “No.”

You leant a little closer to him and smiled to yourself as he attempted to hide his face from you. But you were too quick – you could see the tears falling down his cheeks. 

“Baby.”

Joaquin looked at you, his sad puppy dog eyes almost making you throw your arms around him and pull him into a hug to make him feel better. The man always did a good job at throwing you off with puppy dog eyes, but it was worse when they were full of tears.

“I thought it was going to be a happy ending,” he muttered. “But they didn’t even get to have a proper life together in the end because of what happened to her! It’s so sad.”

Tears continued falling down his cheeks and you couldn’t help but shuffle a little closer to him to wrap an arm around his back as he sobbed into his hands. You rubbed his back gently, resting your head against his shoulder. 

“It’s just a movie, baby. It’s okay. It’s not real.”

Joaquin let out another sob. “But it felt so real”

[aromanticofficial]

Is it just me or am I seeing more acephobia and arophobia on Tumblr again? Like I keep seeing all these jokes of "LOL no one on Tumblr knows what sex is" or making fun of things like "platonic soulmates" as some idea come up by shipper-hating puritans trying to erase queer people.

Maybe I'm just being paranoid, I remember being on Tumblr back in the seriously acephobic days and it left an impression.

Maybe I need to unfollow some mutuals.

you may need to unfollow some mutuals because I haven't seen anyone talking about an uptick in aro/acephobia

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a white stone. l Joel Miller

Summary: it was a hard time for you

Warnings: angst, lots of tears, lots of grief, tw: miscarriage, loss of a child, mourning, unwise decisions, one infected, depressing thoughts, risky behavior, Ellie is there, trying to deal with grief, and finally some hope

A/N: I'll be honest, your reaction to the previous chapter really touched me. my heart was breaking while writing this, but I wanted it to be there. I promise they'll be happy. I'm not a monster after all. but I was moved when I saw your comments and when I could interact with you, it was really nice. thank you for being here and reading.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"Joel, I'm so sorry for your loss... You didn't deserve this." Ann's soft voice reached his ears. Her eyes were shining with tears, Joel knew that you had grown very close. "I wish I could help you, I would like to talk to her, but I don't think it would be good, considering…my condition."

His gaze followed her hand, which lightly touched her rounded belly clearly visible under her dress.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." he replied, his voice a bit hoarse, but he tried to sound nice. He flinched when Ann touched his arm.

“If you need anything, tell me. Shane and I will do whatever it takes.” She pulled a small package out of her bag and handed it to him. “I made her these cookies. She really liked them last time. Can you give them to her?”

Joel nodded and took the gift from her. Ann didn't hold him back any longer and quickly left, he knew she had shed a few tears. Maria looked similar when she came to him in the morning. She offered to help him with the laundry. Tommy must have told her about the blood stains Joel had found, she had wanted you to avoid stumbling upon them again when you got home.

He didn't have the strength to get involved in the discussion and let her take everything she thought she needed to wash.

Ellie was much quieter too. She made sure you came back from the clinic that evening and promised to tidy up the house, make you tea or something. She wanted to be useful.

It was already dark when you and Joel set off home together, in silence. Just like a few weeks earlier, when you had gone in with your heart in your sleeve to find out you were pregnant, at this point you had both returned broken, not knowing how to cope with the loss. Dr. Morris had told you to rest, so your hiding in the bedroom was understandable. But the days passed and nothing changed.

"She needs time." he explained to Ellie and wanted to add "Like all of us." but he stopped himself.

But then something strange happened. He could clearly hear the creaking of the door, quiet footsteps upstairs. It was Ellie who would sneak into your bedroom, spending hours there sometimes.

"Sometimes we talk, sometimes we're silent." she said when Joel asked her about it one evening. "You know, she blames herself for all of this... She doesn't say it." she added, seeing Joel's worried look. "But I can see it in her eyes."

Your eyes. That was the saddest thing about all of this. Joel had the impression that life had disappeared from them. You have become a body. Still warm, still with a beating heart, but empty inside. He didn't know what to do about it.

"Remember... You once told me that it's not time that heals wounds, it's people. Can't you help her with that? I mean... You love each other, right? I know you're suffering too, but somehow you're coping."

Joel was barely coping with it, really. He did what he could - worked at the stables, helped with renovations, came home to see you were still there. Tommy would sometimes try to talk to him, but he was avoiding it more and more.

"I'm sorry, Joel." Your quiet voice made him look up from the book he was reading in bed and look at you. You came out of the bathroom, your hair still wet, your shirt sticking to your damp body.

"What are you apologizing for, darling?" he asked anxiously.

You folded your arms nervously across your chest, your eyes glazed over. He wanted to get up and take you in his arms, but you looked like a scared animal and he knew he couldn't do that.

"I'm sorry I let you down." you finally choked out, a voice filled with tears "I think this is my punishment, you know. I was so afraid to accept the idea of ​​pregnancy, I was so afraid of all this... What if this child felt it? What if it was because of this?"

"Don't say that." he interrupted you, getting out of bed and taking a few steps towards you "We were both terrified. I know you're in pain, but..."

"You don't know how I feel!" you sobbed "You have no idea!"

He gulped looking at you with pain "I think I know..."

Then it hit you. Joel really knew what you felt, and he had lived with this pain for much longer. Tears flowed down your cheeks and you covered your mouth with your hand to stop the loud sob that escaped your throat.

"And I gave you this pain again..." you choked out, feeling your throat burning.

Warm hands grabbed your face, Joel directed it towards himself. The brown eyes that stared at you were so gentle, so good that you wanted to drown in their depths.

"I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me, but I don't know the words to describe it. You gave me more than I deserved, baby. And I know you're hurting now, I can't promise you it'll be easy, but you're not alone in this. You have me, Ellie, Tommy and Maria, you have Ann and Shane and..."

He didn't finish, because you pulled away and snuggled into his chest, hugging him with all your might. Tears soaked his shirt, but for a moment he hoped he saw the seed of life in your eyes.

Quick footsteps echoed through the stables and Joel glanced over his shoulder to see Shane approaching him. The man nodded in greeting.

"Look, I don't know if this is a good idea, but if she thinks she can handle it..." he began, Joel quickly interrupted.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, putting down the brush.

"You don't know anything?" Shane raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "It's a good thing I came to you first." Your name left his lips. "She came to me with the idea of ​​going back to patrolling. The doctor said there were no health issues, but..."

"You can't be serious." Joel mumbled. "Yeah, the doctor said she was fine, but... Jesus, I didn't know. Has she been to Tommy about this yet?"

Shane shrugged. "Listen, I respect you Joel. I know you're both having a hard time right now, this loss..." Joel looked down and Shane didn't pursue the matter, but he finished his thought. "I don't know if it's wise for her to go on patrol. Maybe in a few weeks. Sure, I can go with her, I'll keep an eye on her, but still..."

Joel cleared his throat, his brow furrowed. "Thank you for telling me. I'll talk to her."

Shane nodded. They were both silent for a moment, until he finally said the words that had been going through Joel's head. "She wouldn't do anything risky, would she?"

Joel wasn't sure about that. You took it one day at a time. The sun rose and set, and you both tried to find your way around your activities. He could feel you tensing under his touch, but he still hoped it was temporary, that you were still trying to cope with all of this. But going back to patrols? That was something new, and he didn't like it very much.

"I don't know what you mean." you replied when he brought it up after returning home. "I've done it before. Morris said I could go back to my duties."

"And I'm sure you told him everything, right?" Joel sneered, resting his hand on the chair. "About how little you sleep. About how little you eat. Because I know you, and I know that you try to hide what's uncomfortable for you, what hurts you and..."

"Thank you for the psychoanalysis!" you hissed. "You do the exact same thing. You're out for hours, doing God knows what."

"Because you don't want to talk to me! I'm trying to get closer to you, but you've put up barricades." he rubbed his hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts. “Listen, I won’t stop you. But I want you to know that I don’t think it’s a good idea. I love you, I care about you. If there was some way I could…”

“I’m going on patrol with Shane tomorrow.” You interrupted. “Thank you for your concern, but this is what I want.”

He nodded. There was nothing more he could do.

Was it unwise of you? Maybe. But you wanted to believe that going outside the walls of Jackson would make you feel different. You needed it. The space, the forest, the horizon in front of you. The four walls of the house, Jackson - it was driving you crazy. 

Your thoughts kept circling in similar areas. Joel's touch, once so tender, now irritated you. His watchful gaze was glued to you, but you knew perfectly well that he was looking for an opportunity to break free, to leave the house, to be alone.

You didn't blame him. You guessed that he felt hurt too, maybe even disappointed. He had given you such support at first, but after the loss you weren't sure if he still wanted it. Yes, he had talked about it, but you had a feeling that he was forcing himself to do all this.

Shane stopped and looked around carefully. This was your another joint patrol since you came back and you found yourself in a new region. His behavior tore you away from your thoughts for a moment.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, looking where he was.

"I'm not sure." he mumbled. "Maybe it's a rabbit or some other animal." he glanced at you over his shoulder. "You good?"

"Yeah, we can move on." you replied and you slowly moved forward.

Shane didn't bring up any sensitive topics. He respected your silence, and when you asked a question, he answered, happy that he could occupy your thoughts with something else. You found a rocky ledge that seemed perfect for camping and resting.

"Ann packed something for you." Shane smiled, handing you a small bundle. "I swear, she probably wants to fatten you up."

"I don't mind. I love her baked goods." you replied, sniffing a piece of apple pie with cinnamon.

You ate in silence, listening to the sounds of the forest, inhaling the fresh and clean scent. You offered to wash the dishes in the stream below and slowly went down. The water was pleasantly cool, washing over the mossy stones and washing the remains of food from the plates and cups.

You remembered the river where you first saw Ellie. It was much bigger. But then you met Joel too, your paths connected. Now you were by the river again, and you hadn't been this far from each other for a long time.

"Hey! Hey!" Shane's call tore you from your thoughts, "Watch out, on the right!"

Something was moving quickly in the ferns, panting and hissing. You stood up abruptly and put your hand on the butt of the gun at your side. You stared in that direction. Shane was calling something, but you barely heard him. 

An infected one crawled out of the undergrowth. It looked awful, like it had been here for a long time and nature was slowly trying to take it over. It crawled toward you, sensing its prey, and you...

You couldn't move. You felt the gun under your hand, you knew what you should do, but you just stared at him as if hypnotized. Teeth that could easily bite your throat, tear you apart, kill you and free you from everything that...

A loud gunshot made you jump. Shane was next to you and fired a second shot to make sure. He looked at you with fear and anger.

"That's what I was afraid of!" he growled, "I felt you would do something like that... Jesus!"

"I could handle it." You replied, but he shook his head. He took a few steps trying to gather his thoughts, and then looked at you.

"You and Joel are my friends, we've been through a lot together, but... I can't stand to watch what you're doing to each other," he said, his eyes genuinely concerned. "Listen, I know you're hurting. You've had a lot of bad things happen to you in your life, you didn't deserve them. I also know you're strong, tough, good. And Joel's heart is in the right place, you know. He loves you. He'd give his life for you if you asked him to. And you'd do the same..." he took a few steps towards you and noticed the tears welling up in your eyes. "I won't tell him what happened here. But you need to talk to him. You need to find a way back to each other. Don't let this fucking world take the best of you away."

You saw him on the porch with his guitar, quietly strumming the strings. The setting sun was falling on his face, making his skin seem almost golden. Damn, you had always thought he was handsome, but in that moment you realized it again. A heavy stone fell into your stomach as you thought of the hell you had created for yourselves.

He lifted his head at the sound of your quiet footsteps.

"Joel..." you began quietly.

He put the guitar down and stood up. "I want to show you something," he said. You nodded.

You let him grab your hand and lead you to the back of the house, then a little further to the trees growing on the outskirts. The trees cast long shadows and the sounds of Jackson slowly faded away. You didn't see where Joel was leading you, it was only when you stopped that you noticed.

Under the spreading oak tree you saw a white stone, it was smooth and surrounded by smaller stones like the ones you saw in the stream. Your eyes found some grooves on the surface. Letters or numbers. You let go of Joel's hand and walked closer. The numbers formed a date, and just above it you saw a small carved cross.

You understood.

“When Sarah left, it was like I died while I was alive.” Joel’s voice was quiet and calm, reaching you over the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. “I don’t remember much of that time. A black hole. I don’t want you to end up there too, baby, and I can see you’re headed straight for its embrace… I thought if you had a place you could come to when the days were really hard, it might help.”

You turned and looked at Joel, the man you loved, who had done more for you than anyone else. Your eyes stung from the tears that were pressing under your eyelids, you were still surprised that you were still able to cry.

"Did you do it yourself?" you asked. He nodded.

"I thought it might be easier for you... I wish I could take this pain away from you, but I know I can't. But you're not alone... We're in this together, remember?"

He didn't think your little nod would give him such relief. He felt like he could go to you, take you in his arms, hug you and try to soothe this pain. And Joel did it. You hid in his arms, in the mix of sobs he heard your pleas for forgiveness, promises that this time it would be different, that you would be together again.

"I love you so much, baby." he whispered, touching your lips with his, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I love you too."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name

[whatdoyouwanttocallmefor]

The Quiet CEO — Seungmin x Reader

Hello, hello felas. Im back with the continuation of THIS SERIES!!! I'll published seungmin and iyen one in the same day so that's mean here's the second one before the end of our series... sobs.. niweyss, enjoy!

WARNING: NONE

Taglist: @queenofdumbfuckery @bluesungology @sooniedoongiedori25

○○○

Seungmin was... different.

While other rich boys showed off their cars, their clothes, their family names, Seungmin didn’t have to say a word. His aura alone did all the talking. Calm, composed, sharp eyes always observing quietly from the sidelines. He was the type who made people nervous without even trying.

And yet, you? You weren’t impressed.

Not when he walked into the tiny campus library where you worked. Not when he sat in the corner for hours, typing away on his expensive laptop. Not even when people whispered about how he was the heir to some global law firm.

To you, he was just the quiet guy hogging your favorite reading spot.

So, naturally, you told him off.

“Hey, if you’re not actually reading anything, that seat’s kind of reserved for people who do,” you said one day.

He looked up, completely unfazed. “I like it here.”

You huffed. “Figures.”

But the next day? He moved over, leaving your spot open... and placed a coffee next to it.

“For the librarian,” was all his note said.

And that was just the beginning.

From then on, Seungmin would quietly slide little offerings your way. A muffin when he noticed you skipped breakfast. A spare charger when your phone died. A handwritten list of book recommendations slipped into the pages of the novel you left on the desk.

But still... you kept your distance.

“You don’t have to keep doing all this,” you told him one evening as you stacked books.

“I know,” he replied, voice low. “But I want to.”

“Why?”

He looked at you then, really looked at you. The kind of gaze that made your chest tighten.

“Because you’re the first person who’s ever spoken to me like... me. Not my last name. Not my money. Just... Seungmin.”

It threw you off how sincere he was. How steady. How patient.

One night, when rain started pouring outside, you found him waiting by the door with an umbrella.

“Why are you still here?” you asked, watching the storm rage on.

“To walk you home,” he said simply, holding the umbrella out for you.

And that’s when you realized...

Maybe the quietest ones love the loudest.

And maybe Seungmin wasn't just staying for the seat or the coffee.

Maybe... he was staying for you.

---

AHAH! Caught Minnie being a simp. NEXT TO THE IYEN

[slutoru1207]

Catch me if you can Part 4

Reader x Variant!Invincible

Mark froze.

Your breath came in short, uneven gasps, the weight of him still pressing you into the ground, pinning you, caging you—

But it wasn’t him holding you down anymore.

It was his father’s gaze.

Nolan stood over you both, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“You’re hesitating.”

The words were flat. Unimpressed.

Mark’s grip on you tightened.

You could feel the war raging inside him. The silent battle behind his golden eyes.

But it didn’t matter.

Because Nolan wasn’t asking.

“You had one job, Mark.”

The air around you shifted.

A threat. A warning.

And Mark knew it.

He swallowed, throat bobbing, fingers twitching against your wrists—like he was trying to convince himself to let go.

Like he was trying to convince himself that this was the right thing.

You could barely breathe.

Not because of the weight pressing down on you—

But because of the look in his eyes.

The guilt.

The fear.

You had always been good at reading Mark.

But for the first time…

You couldn’t tell what he was going to do.

No. No, no, no, no—

You pushed against him, struggling, thrashing, trying to get free, but he didn’t budge.

“Mark,” you rasped, desperation creeping into your voice.

His jaw clenched.

You tried again.

“Please.”

His breath hitched.

And for a second—just a second—

You thought he might let you go.

But then Nolan moved.

Faster than you could blink, his hand snapped down onto Mark’s shoulder.

A silent order.

A warning.

And Mark flinched.

The fight drained out of him all at once.

His hands went slack. His eyes closed.

And then—

He let go.

Not to free you.

To pass you over.

To him.

Your stomach dropped.

“NO—”

Nolan’s fingers wrapped around your throat, lifting you like you weighed nothing.

Mark didn’t move.

Didn’t stop him.

Didn’t do anything.

Just stood there, shoulders tense, eyes locked on yours.

Watching.

Like a soldier obeying orders.

Like a Viltrumite.

Your nails dug into Nolan’s wrist, legs kicking, lungs burning, trying to force something into his head—an illusion, a distraction—

But his mind was a wall.

Impenetrable.

Unmoving.

“Your powers are impressive,” Nolan mused, barely even looking at you. “No wonder you’ve been such a problem.”

His grip tightened.

“Which is exactly why we’re going to fix that.”

Your blood ran cold.

No. No, no, no, no—

They weren’t going to kill you.

They were going to break you.

Turn you.

The Viltrum Empire didn’t waste valuable assets.

And to them?

You were a weapon.

Your heart slammed against your ribs, panic clawing up your throat.

You looked at Mark.

Your Mark.

The boy who used to hold you, kiss you, love you.

The boy who had chosen this.

The boy who was letting this happen.

Your vision blurred.

Not from lack of air.

But from the betrayal.

A quiet, desperate plea left your lips.

“Mark…”

Something in his expression cracked.

For the briefest second, you saw him again.

Not the soldier.

Not the hunter.

Just Mark.

Just yours.

His father sighed.

And then—

Pain.

Blinding, white-hot agony exploded through your skull, burning through every nerve, every cell—

And then—

Darkness.

part 5

[whalesongsblog]

An enigma.

(oneshot for @tamayula-hl and her lovely MC!🪷)

Good gods, the girl could talk.

Audacious, Ominis thought, eyes narrowed in irritation as he swept past her, trying hard to tune out the pitched lilt of her voice. Clearly, she was not capable of taking a hint either, because the pitter-patter on stone and the scent of something flowery indicated that she was following him. 

“-I just wanted to apologise! Had I known that dingy room was your secret place, I would have never- can you walk slower, please?” 

“No. I’d truly appreciate it if you left me alone.” 

There was a huff and the shuffle of her footsteps increasing their pace. Ominis groaned.

Between Sebastian’s antics devolving into a worrying downward spiral he didn’t know he had the strength to pull him back from and this girl hounding him, all he wanted was a moment’s peace. 

“Look, I know a first impression is a lasting impression, but I believe in second chances, and I really would like to get along with you. I think it’s unfair that you’re holding a small mistake against me like this. We can start from the beginning! My name is-“ 

Ominis paused. 

My name is-? 

The sudden silence was- admittedly, a blessed relief- but also strange. It wasn’t as though she’d stopped talking.

Ominis lived and breathed by his sense of hearing, and he knew that there was a difference between a pause between words and the complete absence of sound. Curiosity (not concern, he wasn’t worried about her, that was a ridiculous notion) caused him to turn, brows drawn together and mouth pressed in a firm line. 

“Well?” He didn’t mean to sound so cold. “If you must insist on following me around, the least you can do me the courtsey of is giving me your name.” 

Perhaps her name was silly. Or- a traitious part of Ominis brain piped up- perhaps it was something beautiful. The sort of name he’d enjoy saying over and over again, teasing, reprimanding- 

Silence.

“Are you still there?” 

“I can’t-“ there was that telltale warble of tears being held back. “I can’t tell you my name. I can’t tell anyone my name.” 

Ominis crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Go on, then. I can’t wait to hear the reasoning behind this one.” 

“I was cursed by a blood malediction. I cannot tell anyone my name, so they just- they just say I’m the girl with no name. They don’t bother to know me any further than that, anyway.” 

“Your family must have angered someone, then. But it probably wasn’t too serious, since all they cursed you with was not being able to say your name.” Ominis’ eyes shuttered slightly, something dark flitting across them. The coldness in his voice returned, sharp-edged and frigid as the Arctic tundra.

“You got lucky. Curses can be so much worse. And, frankly, you are meddlesome, you are pushy, and I quite despise-“

A sniffle cut him off.

Ominis froze. He hadn’t meant- well, he had wanted her to leave him alone but she hadn’t really done or said anything to offend him, and here he was, absolutely jumping down her throat.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Sure, she was a little fiery nusiance, but he didn’t want her upset.

“Listen-“ his voice was lower, and he tried to soften the edges. “-don’t cry. I’m.. I’m sorry. It’s not that no one wants to get to know you, you’re just-“ 

Brash. 

Loud. 

Carefree and energetic and utterly outrageous. An unapologetic flame burning so bright that if I could see, I’d have to look away. 

“- A mystery.” Ominis finally settled on. “You’re a mystery of a classmate, that’s for certain.” 

A contemplative look flickered across his face. “That suits you, does it not?” 

“What does?” 

Her voice was less wavery and lilted upwards in curiosity instead of a shake of barely repressed tears. 

“Our mystery classmate.” Ominis wondered why he was still entertaining her and indulging in this conversation when he could have left so many minutes ago. But the responding little gasp of delight and clap of her hands had his heart swelling in a manner he’d think about later. For right now, he just wanted to hear her laugh again. 

“A mystery classmate- that makes me sound so debonaire! Like the dashing heroine of a spy thriller.” 

“MC for short, perhaps?” Ominis shifted his weight, crossing his arms in front of him, and he couldn’t help the way he grinned in response. He wanted to be upset at how easily she’d disarmed him, how her excited chatter was somehow seeping into him. 

“MC?” He heard the amusement in her voice, the hint of uncertainty.

“Of course. Plenty of people go by their initials- nobody needs to know what it stands for.” 

He could practically hear her puffing up her chest, hands on her hips. “MC,” she repeated. “My name is MC.”

Her voice softened, and the next thing he knew, a pair of arms had wrapped around him, a soft, warm weight pressed up against him. 

Ominis flushed, heat creeping up his neck and ears as she hugged him. She was so much shorter than him- with long hair scented like flowers and a delicate frame his arms came down almost instinctively to wrap around. He tried not to dwell on how perfectly she fit against him, how she felt like sunlight and the brush of a warm spring breeze.

“Thank you,” MC murmured. “It’s nice to have something to be known by.” She pulled away, leaving him significantly, unfairly flustered. “That’s ironic, isn’t it?” 

“Wh- what is?” Ominis managed to rake together his remaining brain cells that hadn’t sizzled away. He wanted to pull her back in, get to know every inch of her- 

“That you saw me more clearly in a few minutes than anyone else ever has.”

Ominis’ jaw slackened slightly at her audacity, at the cheeky tone of her voice. At the undercurrent of softness in her words, the vulnerable truth. And before he could think about what he was saying, he nodded. 

“You are… easy to see, I suppose. Metaphorically, that is.” The flush returned to his face. “And extremely loud as well. Are all Gryffindor girls this bold? I have things to do, and I cannot spend more time chattering away with you in the hallways.” 

There was that sweet, low laugh again. “Of course. Enjoy your day, Ominis! I’m so glad we’re friends now!” 

“Wait a moment, I didn’t say anything about- we are not- oh, the little minx. Now she finally learns how to walk away?” 

Ominis stood there for a moment, listening to the patter of footsteps against the stone floors. Her voice excitedly piped up as she accosted students at random in the hallways.

I have a name, now! You can call me MC. Mmhm, just the letters. It stands for Mystery Classmate. I—oh, yes, of course, you’re late for class. My apologies. 

An amused laugh escaped his lips, and Ominis wondered vaguely if he needed to go see Nurse Blainey. 

His heart thudded a little too fast, his palms were sweaty, and his stomach churned strangely.

He went still, his mind racing much like his traitorous heart. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Ominis Gaunt groaned and closed his eyes. Of all the women he could be feeling this way for, it had to be her. And yet, somehow, Ominis knew, deep down, that there could really be no one else. 

It truly was a mystery.

xxxxxxxx

AN: ugh I adore miss MC so much! She’s such a cute foil to Ominis’ more stoic demeanor, and I LOVED writing her!!

[starcurtain]

I read your "PhaiDei isn't like other hoyo mlm pairs" posts and I'm so confused because I didn't see it in the main story. AT ALL. Like I'm the n⁰1 "please keep queerbaiting us hoyo, I understand there is censorship" and even then I only thought of them as friends?? I was literally playing through amphoreus and saying "omg they're besties :)" I don't know why this has happened. I have to rewatch the missions with the yaoi glasses on. What is wrong with me

My fav hoyo ship is xingyun and one thing they recently did is that they made Xingqiu explicitly blush because Chongyun was flattering him, which I found very cute and thought to bring up since you mentioned it in your post

I also have a personal problem with renheng because Dan heng has stated multiple times he wants to move on from his past and that he isn't the same person as dan feng (maybe he was, at first, but he certainly isn't now), but I also dislike it because enemies to lovers isn't my cup of tea and Blade left a terrible first impression regarding Dan Heng when I met him

Now that I think about it, maybe I didn't see PhaiDei when I played it for a similar reason I didn't see RenHeng (I was genuinely surprised they shipped them together bc they seem so toxic to me, and after reading a bit about it, I came to the conclusion of the last paragraph regarding that ship), and that is that I really want to smooch Phainon myself, maybe not as much as I want to smooch Dan Heng but... lol

Ha ha well wanting to keep the character for yourself mighttttt influence things, yes. 😂

As for not seeing Phaidei, may I ask what language audio you play in? I play in Chinese, but I was recently watching a friend stream in English and I was genuinely shocked at Mydei's voice acting. No hate to the voice actor at all, because I think he has a very fine voice, but I feel like the voice director must have told him to like... sound pissed all the time. I was genuinely so confused listening to the lines because the delivery in Chinese seems completelyyyyy different in many places, and it feels to me that English Mydei has a more aggressive vibe in a lot of scenes. Maybe this affected your read of the characters a bit, if you play in English?

Love me some Xingyun, very cute ship. I was surprised by them adding the blush in the recent event! I think they were able to "get away with it" so to speak because the Traveler was there too; they can use the Traveler as their plausible deniability. But that scene was definitely grade A+ Xingyun bait, for real for real. (And the scene where Xingqiu said he'd have to run away to Chongyun's house and stay for weeks. I was like, "Sir, that's called eloping" lmao).

I fully respect your opinion on Renheng; "you ruined my life and I'm not over it" is definitely not a dynamic for everyone. My opinion is the dead opposite though, funnily enough; I love Renheng! ...But I tried to care about Yingxing/Dan Feng and I just have zero interest in it at all. I think I'm the only one in the entire fandom that prefers Renheng to Yingfeng lol. Enemies to lovers is my jam, although I can definitely see why not everyone likes it.

May your account be blessed with lots of Phainon to blow smooches to in the future!

[malk1ns]

march 9 @ wild, 3-1 win

i like the convenience and novelty of seeing them play in my town but also like...go away why are you so close to me. the knowledge that they slept less than a mile from where i live the night before the game is unsettling. get out of my school.

loved getting his and his goals AND penalties though. they really do everything together don't they?

good grief are they getting weird in warmups though, like...stop crawling all over each other you're in public? yikes. this fic was inspired by geno skating past sid and like...literally smelling him? i have no idea it was so fucking odd.

One of the team omegas going into heat always throws everyone off. Even the guys who think they’re above it all, more enlightened than their designations and fully in control of their instincts, end up succumbing. 

The whole team gets worked up, especially when they’re on the road and nobody has a chance to go home and get a little distance. They’re around each other all the time 12+ hours a day, and the only breaks they get are when they’re boxed into tiny hotel rooms that smell like strangers and do nothing to help soothe frazzled, on-edge instincts.

It comes to a head in Minnesota. Sid can’t say Karl didn’t time his heat impeccably; by the smell of it, he’ll tip over fully tomorrow, when they’re back in Pittsburgh and he can den down with his mate of choice to ride it out.

As if it’s going to be anyone other than Kris.

Sid watches in vaguely-impressed disgust as Kris practically drools over a puck he’s got parked between his feet, spitting pheromones onto the rubber before passing it with pinpoint accuracy across the ice to where Karl is dawdling through his own warmup routine.

“So gross,” Geno mutters from behind Sid in delighted horror. “Can’t believe Tanger does, like, there’s people everywhere.”

Sid glances briefly at the glass; there are a lot of people down to watch warmups, even more than normal in Minnesota which always draws a large crowd. Kris is oblivious to it all, skating wide arcs around the blue line with his eyes fixed on Karl.

Honestly, Sid gets it. Karl’s pre-heat smells sweet and tempting, and if Sid were still chasing after omegas like he did when he was younger he’d probably have a go at courting behaviors himself. Not now, of course, he’d never trigger a brawl with a teammate before a game, but he’d try something.

Geno circles in front of Sid, tipping his head down and sniffing ostentatiously. “You stink,” he says, voice low and fond and dirty in a way that draws Sid’s attention to him like a magnet. “Think maybe you’re want to do too.”

Sid reaches out and snags a stray puck with his stick, handling it between Geno’s feet. “I’ll spit on whatever you want back at the hotel tonight,” he says before taking off for the net, leaving Geno sputtering and reeking of arousal in Sid’s wake.

—

Getting a win after a shutout is great. Sid has a little extra juice all night, and it’s nice to get rewarded. He’ll never admit to tracking his own stats, but he knows about the Gretzky record just as well as the entire Penguins fanbase; he knows what’s at stake.

Twelve more points in sixteen games feels a lot more doable now than it did a month ago, when his wrists were sore and aching and his left arm was all but useless.

Geno netted his own goal too, banging his own rebound past Flower and crowing at him so loudly about it that Sid could hear it all the way from the bench.

Outside the arena, Sid sucks in a deep breath, letting the fresh air clear his head. The locker room had been fogging over with omega slick, and if Sid was affected Kris was practically catatonic, trailing after Karl into the showers and back out like he was on a leash.

Karl isn’t even in heat yet for real. It’s going to be a long flight back to Pittsburgh tomorrow.

The walk across the park back to the hotel is short, but it’s enough for Sid to shake off the last of the game adrenaline and the base, instinctive need to put on a show in front of a cycling omega.

Geno paces him, hands shoved in his pockets. He looks unaffected, but that’s nothing new. Sid can’t remember a single time an omega turned Geno’s head, not even when they were reeking of pre-heat and practically throwing themselves at him. He’d barely even smell interested.

Sid used to worry he was homophobic or something because of the way his stomach twisted when he watched Geno slip out of bars with other alphas. It used to keep him up sometimes, agonizing over how he could be a good, supportive captain, how he’d be able to say and do the right things to make sure Geno didn’t feel alienated, all while feeling the way he did.

It took him a while to figure out what was really going on. Nobody’s ever accused Sid of being deeply in touch with his feelings. He’s glad Geno was patient with him in those early days.

Sid likes to think he’s made all that initial weirdness up to him and then some in the intervening years.

Geno nudges him as they step into the lobby. “Good game,” he says, herding them towards the elevator; he always gets antsy about Sid’s privacy when they’re in public, does his best to put himself between Sid and anyone who looks like they might bother him.

It stirred up complicated feelings in Sid for years, shame twisted with arousal. Now, he just appreciates the way Geno really looms over him when he wants, the warm press of his body along Sid’s side, his big hands on Sid’s back as he hustles them down the hallway and into their room.

He can’t help but push back a little, dig his heels in and fight Geno’s grip; he’s still an alpha, after all, and he’s not going to go down easy, not even when it’s Geno putting him there.

Geno gets Sid pinned up against the wall and leans down, opening his mouth over Sid’s scent glands and inhaling. The scrape of teeth on skin freezes Sid in place, hair standing on end as his body reacts to a perceived threat so near.

“Smell so good,” Geno rumbles, way down in his alpha register. His hands are all over Sid’s body, handsy like he always is, proprietary and possessive without a care for the way Sid’s having to breathe through his initial reaction to fight.

This is how it goes after games when they’re both worked up. Geno boxes him in, Sid reminds himself he likes it.

Sid has to admit that he had some ideas about what Geno would be like in bed. He’s gay, after all, not a flicker of interest in omegas, and there are stereotypes that Sid’s embarrassed he assumed would be true. He’d had a hazy picture in his head of Geno rolling over and presenting, going belly-down and whining for it like his omegas always have.

Sometimes, Geno does do that. But sometimes Sid does too. Most of the time, it’s like this:

Geno backs off just enough for Sid to push at him, wrestling them both towards the bed. Geno’s musk fills the room; Sid’s probably is too, but obviously he can’t smell himself. The heady scent of aroused alpha turns Sid’s crank like crazy, sends him out of his skin with the need to touch, to claw and bite and own.

He wrestles Geno onto his back and tucks his face into Geno’s neck, breathing so deeply he makes himself dizzy. He imagines sinking his teeth in, like he would have years ago without a second thought if Geno were an omega, leaving a mark on Geno’s neck for all to see. It’s taboo, transgressive enough to make Sid’s guts squirm and his dick twitch picturing it.

He doesn’t dare imagine Geno leaving a mark of his own on Sid’s neck, not if he wants this to last.

Geno’s nails scratch into Sid’s skin as he scrabbles at Sid’s shirt. Getting them both naked nearly devolves into a fight, but eventually their clothes are in a pile on the floor and Geno’s sucking on Sid’s tongue as he plays with Sid’s balls.

His hands are huge, and Sid thinks about spreading his legs and begging Geno to finger him. They don’t have time, not with an early flight the next day and a game the day after; the worst part of sleeping with another alpha is the amount of time everything takes if they want to fuck, and Sid’s not in the mood to slip into the bathroom and do it himself, to come out and pretend he’s an omega, all ready for Geno to slide right in. 

The best he can do tonight is thrash until they’re on their sides, Geno curled around Sid’s back with one hand on his dick and the other playing with his chest as Sid spills lube over his hand and rubs between his thighs before tucking Geno’s dick there and squeezing.

“Fuck,” Geno grunts, humping forward and practically rolling Sid onto his stomach. Sid grits his teeth and braces, reaching back and digging his fingers into Geno’s flank as Geno fucks into the space between his thighs.

It sounds obscene in the close little hotel room, slick thrusts and slapping flesh, and Sid tosses his head, burning with humiliation. He’s so close, and the idea of anyone knowing how hard this is getting him off, letting another alpha drool all over him and make Sid his bitch, makes him moan.

“Geno, please,” he gasps, and Geno’s hand on his dick is too rough, too much too fast, but it tips him over the edge, and he comes with a shout into Geno’s palm.

Geno squeezes over his knot, painfully tight and just what Sid needs, and Sid tenses his leg muscles, working Geno’s dick over as best he can until Geno comes too, his own knot swelling between Sid’s thighs. 

Geno’s breath is hot on Sid’s neck. Now that they’ve both come the immediate threat of another alpha’s bite has receded, so Sid tilts his head to the side, smiling when Geno immediately plants his face against Sid’s skin.

“Smell something you like?” he chirps. It’s weak, but he’s tired, and orgasms like that one, that feel almost more like a fight than sex, sap him of his ability to be witty.

“Smell like mine,” Geno replies, and Sid sinks into his words, the way they make him feel.

He does belong to Geno. Always has, even when he didn’t realize it yet. Geno belongs to him too.

Sid falls asleep thinking about how maybe his fantasy of matching mate-bites isn’t that insane after all.

[changingplumbob]

First Impressions - Alaina

How do you feel so far?

A sixty-four! Back of the pack? Who's tallying the scores? If it was Deanna I would have been near the top if not AT the top! sighs It's fine, it's fine. Just have to show the judges of whatever challenges they give us that I'm the best option here.

Abigail

She's quite imaginative! She showed me pictures of some of her Latte Art and if she wants to make me coffee every morning... girl could get used to that!

Nathalie

I find Nathalie . . . *scrunches nose* She's quite unreliable if I do say so myself. If she can't hold down a job for more than a year how is she going to provide for a woman like Deanna? Yes I know pot and kettle and all that since I quit my job but I had the same one for YEARS before I left to come here, I can easily find AND KEEP a job when this is all said and done.

Kay

OH. MY. WATCHER! Kay is so fun to be around she's Happy all the time and knows all the best jokes! It took a hot minute for her to not be so shy with me but I think we could be the best of friends!

Nephinae

Nephinae seems very familiar to me but I didn't get to chat with her too much on the Deja Vu I feel around her. Is she a celebrity or something? Things could be very interesting between us indeed. Oh she's been on other Reality Shows? She said so in her introduction with Deanna? Yeah I didn't bother watching any of those, didn't think it mattered.

Kristina

Kristina is great! I've had so much fun talking to her. She can jump from one subject to the next and back around again and the conversation never gets boring.

Alaina created and written by @hashimasims

[sarahsangelicdoll]

I would recommend blocking @jjmaybankssurfergf (cant tag because i’m blocked)

I have enough reason to believe that they are possibly a minor and has rather concerning behaviour.

There has been drama revolving someone being a minor(whom, i will not name here to prevent more harassment being sent her way. i will tell you in dms if we know eachother, if you’re a rando i won’t sorry), We’ll refer to her as ‘K’ for this.

This person has made many, many, rude posts about this person which at first glance seems fair, but gets rather tiring over time. Time after time this person exhibits childish and immature behaviour.

I saw their post yesterday- oblivious to her behaviour, thanking her for her post and expressing how i felt weird about the whole thing because i sent porn to ‘K’(whom i was under the impression was an adult) and they said that it’s not my fault. (showing all ss incase she tries saying i left stuff out)

I woke up to a rather rude ask in my inbox later(which i have evidence of), but it also informed me about harassment that ‘K’ has been receiving. I checked it out and was beyond appalled at the behaviour given to a minor by an adult. I also learned that ‘K’ planned on coming clean about lying about her age.

I did hold ‘K’ accountable still, but instead of being rude i was polite. ‘K’ then opened up to me about her reasons and whatnot and apologized again for lying about her age.

I later found that jjmaybankssurfergf made three new posts about ‘K’. I was originally going to just block and move on but i saw that she accused ‘K’ of lying about what she confessed to me(which an adult would not do. That right there is rather childish behaviour)

(the other post she made)

I then decided to call her out on it, which while it may not have been the best decision on my part, i already had suspicions that she is possibly a minor.

(Post i replied too, you may need to click on them)

this is all i said;

jjmaybankssurfergf then changed her opinion on me sending nsfw to ‘K’ and started trying to use it against me(another sign of childish behaviour)

After this it was pretty much jjmaybankssurfergf repeating herself. I will provide what i said in replies as well because i am open to any criticism and i don’t want to hear her excuses after this.(you may need to click on images to see them clearly)

(👆 may not all be in order i tried)

She then proceeded to make this post about me, trying to take things out of context(also says ‘being a full grown adult’ as if she is not supposed to be one.. doesn’t seem like something an adult would say)

Not only did she leave stuff out of context about me but continued to leave stuff out about ‘K’.

Now, my blog is and WILL remain drama free. I didn’t want to make this, but i feel this needs to be addressed. Especially if this person is indeed a minor. I will not allow ANY harassment to be sent towards jjmaybankssurfergf if you do not agree with her behaviour because that is not what i support or want out of this.

I made this also because of how she tried leaving out very big things on purpose. Respectfully, i do not take people trying to make it seem like i knowingly sent porn to a minor. It’s a very serious accusation.

tagging people who may not know but i do believe are adults: @rcameronofficial (i’ve seen you wanted your blog to be drama free, so i am sorry for this tag), @rubysleepstoomuch @auroraaugust

since they’re also still complaining in my inbox: i said, possibly, a minor. if anyone sees this, reads it and decides that they want to block her. That is THEIR decision that they have a right to.

i’m sorry for incorrectly tagging, trying to get reach for other writers !!

[aetherraeys]

lasting impressions

( a night to remember - pt1)

sirius black x afab!reader ⊹ 6.5k

cw ⟢ biker!sirius RARARAR, nervous!reader, alcohol, swearing, suggestive, strangers to ????, tension, teasing

it seemed by the time the morning after the party rolled around, you'd forgotten most of what you'd done, not to worry, sirius was your walking reminder.

a/n i litch skipped class to write this today LOL, i hope yall like it, man bun sirius is just hhhhh not proofread x

The rest of that night was a complete and utter blur. Marlene was meant to take you home but ‘coincidentally’, she ended staying at Dorcas’ to clean up after the party.

That left you with James.

Poor James, had to keep his eyes on you before you ravaged his best mate.

All the swimming you’d done, thankfully tuckered you out for a while—becoming less like Trouble the tasmanian devil and more of a sweet gooey puddle on the sofa.

Proclaiming your love to everyone and everyone.

You had tried to put your clothes back on—but it seemed that no one wanted to let you get dress, and it was getting rather cold.

Sirius had been watching as you padded wobbly, back to the pile by the pool, humming off-beat to the music that still played int the living room—seeping through the crack in the door. Hopping around with one foot partially through your wet bottoms, Sirius decided it was time for him to chime in.

“Busy?” an amused smirk playing on his face.

Huffing in frustration, still trying to force your foot through the wet tangled pant leg, you didn’t answer—you also didn’t hear the sound of his footsteps coming towards you.

Using all your sense at one seemed to be a difficult task at the time.

If you’d had the capacity to think of shaking the clothes out, you probably would have already had them on. Sirius stood over your hunched figure waiting for you to notice him, but you lost your balance—sending yourself right into him.

A soft “oh!”, leaving your lips when you made contact, of course, Sirius was ready to catch you—after having watched you sway back and forths for a while, he figured it would happen sooner or later.

Your chin was still resting chest when you looked up at him, a lazy grin slowly spreading across your face, accompanied with a, “Hello!”

He couldn’t stop himself from matching your smile, entertained by the way you melted against him, letting his hands settle at your waist to steady you, “Fancy seeing you here,” his voice light and teasing.

Nose scrunching slightly, you hummed, “Mmm, you’re so warm,” seemingly deciding then and there to stay pressed against him.

“Mind telling why you’re trying to put your wet clothes back on, sweetheart?”

“S’cold,” words still slurring, and now muffled against his skin. He chuckled, shaking his head, taking the towel that was quite literally right next you clothes—and drapping it over your shoulders.

Sirius began dramatically, rubbing his hands up and down your arms—using all of his might to warm you; “James is going to hex me if I let you catch hypothermia on his watch.”

It only made you break out into loud giggles, wriggling under the towel like your situation was the funniest thing you’d ever seen. Clutching your stomach, laughter ringing through the garden. As he stopped, he leaned in to your ears—whispering in a soft, low tone—”Better?”

It made your ears burn, and stutter several incomplete words, before eventually giving up speaking, feigning non-chalance with a roll of your eyes. And Sirius couldn’t stop the bark of laughter from leaving him—

"Merlin, you’re so cute," Sirius mused, watching as your face scrunched up, trying and failing to pretend his words hadn’t made your heart stutter.

You let out an exaggerated sigh, determined to move on. “I’m putting my trousers back on.”

Tilting his head at you, amusement dancing in his eyes, “Are you, now?”

Nodding firmly, you reached down to grab them, still heavy with water—only for Sirius to pluck them up first, holding them just out of reach.

"Oi!" You swayed slightly, glaring up at him. "Gimme."

"Mmm... no," he hummed, examining the soaked fabric like he was contemplating setting them on fire. "See, I just spent all this time warming you up, and now you want to go and undo all my hard work? Tsk, tsk."

"But I’m cold," you whined. "Clothes make you warmer, Sirius, it’s science."

"Not when they’re wet,” he countered, lifting an eyebrow. “Putting these on is just going to make you colder.”

"But I’m already wet," you argued, throwing your arms out as if that proved a point. "I’m wet, the clothes are wet—so it cancels out."

Sirius stared at you. "That’s...that’s not how that works.”

"It is," you insisted, crossing your arms. "Like...double negatives. Wet plus wet equals dry."

Sirius blinked. "That was the single worst attempt at logic I have ever heard.”

"You’re the worst attempt at logic I’ve ever heard," you shot back, wobbling on your feet.

"That didn’t even make sense," he snorted, running a hand down his face. "Merlin, you’re impossible."

"Gimme my trousers."

"No."

"Gimme."

"Nope."

Before you could protest further, Sirius simply sighed, tossed the offending trousers aside, and scooped you up like you weighed nothing.

"Sirius!" you gasped, clinging to his shoulders on instinct. "Put me down, fiend!"

"No can do, sweetheart," he grinned, carrying you inside with ease. "You’ve lost trouser privileges."

"That’s not a thing," you grumbled, voice muffled against his shoulder.

"It is now."

Sirius stepped into the living room, plopping you both down onto the couch in one smooth motion. You huffed, still tangled up against him, but the warmth of the house—and him—was already seeping into your chilled skin. You could feel his chuckle rumbling against you as he reached for the nearest blanket, draping it over you both with an air of finality.

"See?" he murmured, voice smug. "Much better."

You grumbled something unintelligible against his shoulder, but you didn’t move—not even an inch. Partly because you were comfortable and partly because your limbs still felt like jelly.

Sirius huffed out a quiet laugh, adjusting the blanket so it covered more of you.

Dorcas rolled her eyes at the wet trail you’d left upon entry, grumbling about how she’d just mopped, before tossing a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a jumper in yours and Siruis’ general direction.

"I love Dorcas," you announced from the couch, voice muffled but enthusiastic. She came towards the sofa as you confessed, a glass of water in hand, passing it to you with a soften sigh—small smile on her face.

"I love everyone!" It came out shockingly louder than your last statement; “Everything is so good,”

Sirius chuckled, shifting slightly so he could look down at you. “Yeah?”

"Mhm," you hummed, snuggling impossibly closer. "Sirius, you’re my favorite."

"Ooooh, scandalous," Marlene called from the other room. "James, how does it feel to be replaced?"

"I am not replaced!" James shot back indignantly. “And I’ve been stuck with cleaning up this mess, while Sirius is lazing on the sofa.” The last sentences was mumbled and huffed under his breath.

Dorcas snorted, flicking her wand to banish a suspicious-looking stain from the carpet. “James, he quite literally had to drag her inside.”

Marlene hummed in agreement. “Yeah, poor bloke probably had to wrestle her just to get her to drop the wet clothes.”

The light chatter continued among them as they cleaned, but eventually, all that could be heard from the couch was your soft, content sigh as Sirius tightened the blanket around you both.

Sirius glanced down at you, only to realize your breathing had evened out, your face smushed sleepily against his shirt.

"Merlin’s beard," he muttered, shaking his head fondly. "You really are trouble."

It took another thirty minutes before the house was back to its original state, James let out an exasperated sigh, plopping onto the single chair by Sirius—eyes scanning over your sleeping figure.

Sirius had his phone in one hand, the other on your thigh—your shoulders rising and falling slowly with heach breath, head rested on his shoulder—very very comfortable.

James squinted his eyes at the pair of you.

"Alright, let’s get moving," James announced, stretching his arms over his head. "I want to be in bed before the sun comes up for once."

Sirius sighed dramatically but sat up, shifting you carefully in his hold as he did. You stirred only slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling again.

"Right then," Sirius said, looking over at Marlene expectantly. "Time to take your gremlin home."

Marlene raised a brow. "My gremlin? No, no, you two are taking her home."

"What? No," James argued, pointing an accusing finger at her. "You were supposed to take her home!"

Marlene gave him an unimpressed look. "And how, exactly, am I supposed to do that? There’s one of me, and she’s basically liquid right now."

"S’not true," you mumbled sleepily, shifting against Sirius' chest. "I’m solid. Mostly."

"See?" Sirius smirked. "Mostly solid. You’ll manage."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "James, you have a car. Sirius, you have a motorbike. There are two of you and one of me. Basic math says this is not my problem."

James groaned, rubbing his face before turning to Sirius. "Rock, paper, scissors for it?"

"Not a chance, mate," Sirius said, already standing with you in his arms. "You drive. I’ll follow."

James huffed but didn't argue further, muttering about how Sirius always managed to get out of the worst parts of every situation.

The drive back to their flat was mostly quiet, save for the occasional hum of a song from Sirius as he trailed behind on his bike. You remained blissfully unaware, curled up in the passenger seat of James’ car, only half-waking when he parked and Sirius pulled open the door.

"Up we go, trouble," Sirius murmured, lifting you effortlessly before you could try and stumble your way inside.

James locked the car, sighing as he followed them up the stairs. But when he opened the door to their flat, he realized something.

"Wait," he frowned. "Where is she supposed to sleep?"

Sirius, still carrying you, blinked at him. "Uh. My bed?"

"Oi," James pointed a warning finger at him. "That’s my friend, so no funny business."

Sirius rolled his eyes, adjusting you in his arms. "Please. I’m not the one you need to worry about."

James scoffed, but let it go, too tired to argue further. "Fine. Just—behave yourself, alright?"

"Always do," Sirius grinned before disappearing into his room.

The moment he set you down, you sighed, rolling onto your side as you curled into the warmth of his duvet. Sirius exhaled, shaking his head with a small smirk before tugging the blankets up over you properly. His bed had always been big—more space than he usually needed—but right now, he didn’t mind it.

For a moment, he just watched you, taking in the peaceful expression on your face. The soft rise and fall of your chest. The way your hand curled slightly into the pillow.

With careful fingers, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch barely there.

"Pretty," he murmured fondly.

And with that, he switched off the light and settled in beside you—close, but not too close. Just enough to make sure you were warm.

When the morning rolled around, the light in the room making your eyes burn even while closed, head pounding and throbbing—mouth abnormally dry. A groan left your lips as you shifted slightly, body stiff from sleep, but as you stretched out, something felt… wrong.

For one, the bed was too big. And for another—

Thud.

You hit the floor with a graceless, painful sort of smack, tangled in the sheets you’d apparently dragged with you.

"Bloody hell," you muttered, squeezing your eyes shut as you lay there for a moment, reeling from the sudden impact. That definitely didn’t help your headache.

Panic set in almost immediately.

You blinked, finally taking in your surroundings, mind scrambling to piece together where the hell you were. The room was unfamiliar—dark bedding, posters plastered lazily on the walls, the faintest lingering scent of cologne and cigarette smoke.

Your stomach dropped.

This—this wasn’t your room. And it definitely wasn’t Marlene’s or Dorcas’.

You scrambled to your feet, legs wobbling slightly beneath you, hands clammy as you pressed them to your temples. The pulsing ache behind your eyes did not make thinking any easier. Your heart hammered as you backed up toward the door, mind racing through every terrible, worst-case scenario imaginable. Your body moved on autopilot—twisting the handle, slipping out into the corridor with the sheer desperation of needing to get out of here.

And then—

"Oh, look who’s up," James’ voice.

Your head snapped up, vision still slightly blurred, but sure enough—James Potter was standing in the open kitchen, casually stirring a bowl of cereal. And next to him, leaning against the counter, was Sirius Black, sipping a cup of tea with all the ease in the world.

Your breath caught. James’ flat.

Some of the panic loosened its grip, but the mortification settled in just as quickly.

"She lives," Sirius smirked over the rim of his cup.

You opened your mouth—closed it—then tried again. "I—I don’t—" You winced at the sound of your own voice, throat dry and hoarse. "What—"

James raised a brow. "Need some water before you start asking questions?"

You swallowed thickly. "Maybe."

Sirius nudged a glass across the counter without a word. You took it hesitantly, stepping forward just enough to grab it, before downing the whole thing in a few gulps.

It helped. Slightly.

"Alright," you breathed out, trying to regain some sense of composure. "What…happened?"

Sirius and James exchanged looks, and you did not like whatever silent conversation they just had.

James was the first to break. "You happened," he snorted, shaking his head. "You were sloshed, love."

Your brows knit together. You remembered getting to the party. Swimming. Bits and pieces of the night flickered through your mind, but it was all… hazy.

"You don't remember?" Sirius tilted his head, watching you closely as you chewed at your bottom lip, avoiding eye contact with him.

"I—" You hesitated. "Some of it? I remember the party. And—I think I was trying to… put my clothes back on?" You frowned. "But Marlene had already given me some?"

Sirius grinned, all too happy to remind you. "Ah, yes. You were determined to put your wet clothes back on, actually. Told me that ‘wet plus wet cancels out,’ or something equally brilliant."

You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. "Merlin’s sake. I told Marlene this would happen.”

"You also declared your undying love for everyone about five times," James added, chewing lazily. "But apparently, Sirius was your favorite."

Your head shot up at that, eyes wide. "I what?!"

Sirius hummed, parroting Marlene’s words from last night, looking far too smug. "Scandalous, I know."

You stared at them both in abject horror, any lingering dizziness temporarily forgotten as you fought the urge to crawl out of your own skin. This is exactly what you were worried about, being a public nuisance and making an absolute idiot of yourself.

You just groaned again, leaning against the counter, face heating—hoping some unknown force would strike you down, anything to avoid the mortifying feeling in the pit of your stomach.

James snickered before shrugging. "Could’ve been worse. At least you didn’t puke."

Small mercies.

Sirius walked over to where you stood, handing over a packet of ibuprofen, you still couldn’t meet his gaze. The intensity of his stare, paired with the almost cocky smirk that played on his face made you shrink into yourself—his fingertips lingering on your hand for just a second longer than they should have. Before he walked back over to lean against the counter.

James watched the entire interaction rather unimpressed, but he chose not to say anything about it, instead he pulled out the seat next to him—motioning for you to sit down. Your brows were still knit high up on you forehead, endlessly wracking your brain, willing it to focus on the events of last night. Unconsciously picking at the skin around you fingers, eyes glaring at a spot on the table, a deep frown settling on your lips.

It took a few calls, but eventually James got your attention, offering you some toast.

But the idea of eating anything made your stomach lurch slightly, you shook your head immediately, muttering, “I think i’ll pass, thank you though,”

The guilt was killing you, not only did you make a fool of yourself, you didn’t remember and you didn’t make it home. Standing up from your place in the table, asking James if you could borrow something to change into after your shower. He spluttered slightly, mouth still full—”Course,”

The hot shower did little to calm your mind, only washing the slight smell of chlorine off your skin, opting for the smallest clothes James had, they still were very ill-fitting, hanging off of your frame. Your hair dripped onto the towel you’d hung over your shoulders, taking your spare toothbrush out James’ cabinet, you began brushing.

Brain mindlessly trailing away, memories of your antics flashing vividly behind your eyes, more specifically that moment in the pool, like you’d been transported back to that very second, your heart raced and thumped in your ears—cheeks heating at the thought of the kiss.

Groaning as you shut off the running tap, fingertips brushing over your lips. Exhaling through your nose, you shook your head, mumbling to yourself as you left the bathroom.

“What have i done?”

Trailing over to James’ room, he was at his desk, typing on his laptop. You stood by him wordlessly for few a moments, a frown on your face, eyes trained on the floor. The smile on his face dropping at the sight of yours, “What’s the matter, love?” turing his whole body towards you.

“I’m sorry.”

Your voice was meek as you continued, “I’m sorry you had to take care of me, I hope I didn’t ruin your night,” You looked like you were about to cry, he couldn’t help the huffed chuckle that passed his lips as he hugged you,

“Y/N, you didn’t ruin the night for anyone, if anything, you made it more fun.”

Head still in his chest, he leant away slightly, catch a glimpse of your face, barking out a laugh at your wet eyes, “I promise, doll. And I didn’t mind taking care of you, I’m sure Sirius didn’t either.”

Still not raising your head, you flooped dramatically onto James’ bed, face first—the teasing tone of his voice playing in your head over and over. Another wave of embarrassment washing over you. James was already standing up, still laughing lightly at you, before he took a pillow from the top of his bed—dropping it on your head.

“As much as I’d love to watch you be awkward and embarrassed with Sirius, I need to go to the gym—I’ll drop you home when I get back.”Voice drifting further away as he finished.

He was already out of the door before you could beg him not to leave you with Sirius.

What was more mortifiying was that you knew your brain wouldn’t let you rest until you’d apologised to him, and now that James was gone for however long—you were trapped with the guy you’d drunk kissed with no buffer.

It took you another twenty minutes of internal conflict before you slowly skulked out of James’ room, food calling your name more than anything. You’d prayed Sirius would be back in his room, allowing you more time to work yourself into a mental space confident enough to talk to him like a normal person.

Everything about him just felt so intimidating, so confident, so straight-forward, so handsome.

The kitchen was thankfully empty, giving you space to boil the kettle—maybe a cup of tea would settle you.

Once again lost in thought, you’d failed to notice how the Gods had tricked you into thinking you were safe. Comfortably slotted into the corner in the counter—waiting for the kettle to tick over, when Sirius had walked into the space, resting against the door frame—watching.

You looked so deep in thought—drowning James’ jumper, hair still slightly damp. Sirius wasn’t going to deny it, despite your very comfortable, almost disheveled appearence—he still thought you looked just as gorgeous as the night before.

He interrupted you chain of thought with his voice; “Boil enough for two?”

The way you almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice was rather comical, practically clutching your non-existent pearls. And he didn’t grace you with time to recover, because, he was already so close to you by the time you’d turned around—stalking over to where you stood.

You did try to stutter out an answer, but your heart beating so loudly in your ears was distracting, preventing you from forming one conscious stream of speech. Instead, you gave up and just nodded���turning away from him and the cocky grin on his face.

Staring at the marble counter as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Sirius was still closing the distance between you, so much so that you could feel the heat that he radiated on your skin, could smell his freshly washed hair, laced with caramel and dark leather. You wanted to move away, but you were effectively cornered, the only escape would be if you somehow went through him.

You turned to find away to give him more space, but he just leant further in, looking down at you with that same smirk, so painfully aware of how panicked you were at the proximity. Breath audibly hitching as he reached over your head—eyes still locked with your, pulling out another mug from the cupboard and placing it beside him.

And instead of moving away after getting what he needed, like any normal person, he entrapped you by placing his arms on both sides of you body—palms pressing against the counter.

"Something on your mind, sweetheart?"

Sirius’ voice was low, smooth—far too amused for your liking. The way he was looking at you, all hooded eyes and lazy smirk, made it very clear he was enjoying your predicament.

You swallowed, attempting to look unaffected despite the fact that your pulse was hammering at your throat. "No."

He tilted his head slightly, like he didn’t quite believe you. "No?"

Your fingers curled against the counter, desperate for something to ground yourself. The heat of him was overwhelming, every sense, every inhale filled with something distictly Sirius. It was ridiculous how effortlessly he took up space, how he had you feeling cornered without even laying a hand on you.

"Then why," he murmured, dipping just slightly closer, "do you look like a rabbit caught in a trap?"

Your breath hitched. His voice was too smug, too pleased with himself, and it sent something hot curling low in your stomach.

"I don’t," you lied, attempting to shift to the side—only for Sirius to mirror you, blocking your escape with ease.

His lips twitched. "Mmm, I think you do."

He was so close now that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his hands braced on either side of you, caging you in like he had all the time in the world.

You hated how your voice came out weaker than intended. "Do you make a habit of cornering people in kitchens, or am I just special?"

His smirk deepened. "Oh, you're special."

Your stomach flipped violently at that, and you cursed yourself internally for the reaction.

The kettle clicked off behind you, but neither of you moved.

Sirius’ gaze flickered down, lingering for just a second too long before meeting yours again, dark and unreadable. "Seems you’ve lost the bite you had last night."

Your lips parted—whether to say defend your drunk actions or tell him to piss off, you weren’t sure—but before you could get a word out, he finally pushed off the counter, retreating as smoothly as he’d approached.

The loss of his warmth left you feeling almost unsteady.

He reached for the kettle, pouring the water into both mugs like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just obliterated your ability to think straight.

"Relax, darling," he murmured, stirring his tea with a spoon. "I'm just having my morning fun."

You exhaled sharply, gripping the counter just to reorient yourself.

Sirius glanced at you from the corner of his eye, smirking again when he saw your still-flustered expression.

Bastard.

With another deep breath, you turned to him, a frown now etching itself into your face—it came out slightly begrudge, more reluctant and dreading than you’d hoped.

“I—uh, wanted to say…I’m sorry, for uh—how I acted last night. I’m not usually that drunk or forward or shameless actually,” Twiddling your thumbs, lips pursing together before you spoke again; “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable in anyway, or um—make you look after the random girl who drank too much…”

The feeling that prickled on you neck, made your throat drier was undeniably, shame. What a way to present yourself. Sirius had stopped stirring his tea, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. His smirk was gone, replaced with something softer, something unreadable. For once, he didn’t look like he was about to tease you.

“You think I was uncomfortable?” he asked after a beat, his voice quieter now.

You swallowed, suddenly unsure. “I mean…I don’t know. You had to drag me inside, jumped into the pool for me, I kissed you—and—Merlin, I don’t even remember half of it, but I know I was being ridiculous and unruly.”

Sirius exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter. “You weren’t ridiculous.”

You shot him a dubious look.

“Alright,” he amended with a small grin. “Maybe a little ridiculous. But you were also sweet. And funny. And probably the most affectionate drunk I’ve met.”

Your face burned. “Merlin.” You buried your head in your hands. “Please, please don’t tell me everything I said.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” He was definitely enjoying this a little too much. “Not when I could use it as leverage later.”

Your groan of embarrassment only made him chuckle.

“But,” Sirius continued, a little more serious now, “you don’t have to apologize, love. You didn’t do anything wrong. We all have our nights.”

You hesitated, glancing up at him. “Really?”

He nodded, taking a slow sip of his tea. “Really. Besides, I’d hardly complain about you curling up in my lap and calling me your favorite.”

You almost choked. “Sirius.”

His grin was downright wicked now. “What? I’m just saying, if you ever feel like being that affectionate sober, I wouldn’t mind.”

You stared at him, unsure whether to be flustered or exasperated.

Sirius only winked. “Tea’s getting cold, sweetheart.” Then, as effortlessly as ever, he turned on his heel and sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there—stomach in knots, head spinning, and entirely unsure what to do with yourself.

It was getting late, and you’d been sitting in James’ living room for hours since he left, waiting rather impatiently for him now.

God’s this would have been easier if you hadn’t left your bag at Dorcas’.

Sirius eventually showed himself again, shocked to find you sitting there, still no James.

Sirius’ voice broke the silence like a stone skipping across a still lake.

“Are you waiting for James?”

You looked up, slightly startled, your fingers curling tighter around the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Sirius stood in the doorway, arms crossed, dark eyes scanning you with mild amusement and faint incredulity.

“Yeah,” you admitted, shifting slightly in your seat. “He said he wouldn’t be long.”

Sirius frowned, glancing at the clock on the wall. “That was hours ago.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “I know.”

“Then why the hell are you still sitting here?”

You exhaled, dropping your head back against the couch. “I left my bag at Dorcas’,” you admitted begrudgingly. “No bag means no keys. No money. No phone. So, I figured I’d wait.”

Sirius blinked. “And you didn’t say anything?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t want to be a bother.”

A sharp breath left him, his lips parting before he ran a hand through his hair. “So, let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “You’ve been sitting here alone, in a mostly empty house, for hours, when I could’ve just driven you home?”

Your face warmed. “I didn’t—”

Sirius let out a disbelieving laugh. “For fuck’s sake, sweetheart.”

You bristled at the exasperation in his voice. “I said I’m fine. I chose to wait.”

Sirius scoffed, pushing off the doorframe. “You chose to sit in a silent house, curled up like a bloody lost puppy, instead of just asking me?”

You frowned. “I wasn’t curled up like a lost puppy.”

“Are you sure? Because that’s exactly what James’ couch has been hosting all evening.” He gestured toward you. “At this point, you might as well start whining for him to come back.”

You shot him a glare, blanket tightening around your shoulders. “Dramatic.”

Sirius folded his arms, tilting his head. “You really don’t want me to take you home?”

“I—” You hesitated. “It’s not that.”

“Then what?” You bit the inside of your cheek, blinking rapidly, trying to find the words that wouldn’t expose you, but would stop his pestering. His eyes narrowed slightly.

And then something clicked.

“Oh, Merlin,” he breathed, an unrestrained grin creeping onto his lips. “You’re scared of my bike.”

Your stomach twisted. “I am not.”

Sirius barked out a laugh, pure delight lighting up his face. “You totally are.”

You scowled, hating how much he was enjoying this, as if you hadn’t suffered enough embarrassment to last you a life time in the last twenty-four hours. “I just… don’t trust two wheels to keep me alive.”

Sirius smirked. “You think my death machine is going to kill you?”

“I never called it that.”

“You were thinking it.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples, squeezing your eyes shut, tilting your head. Voicing coming out a bit more sharp and desperate than you’d hoped, “Can you just—drop it?”

He hummed, watching you carefully. Then, his smirk softened into something more amused, something more real.

“You trust me though, don’t you?”

The question caught you off guard, and your lips parted slightly, mind scrambling for an answer.

Because you did. You knew you did.

Sirius must’ve seen something in your face, because his voice was quieter when he spoke next.

“I’d take care of you,” he murmured. “I will take care of you.”

Your chest tightened, the swirling in the pit of your stomach only getting worse the longer you pondered on his words, the tone of his voice and how it had you melting in your seat.

And you hated that that was what finally made you relent.

With a deep breath, you stood, setting the blanket aside. “Fine.”

Sirius grinned like he’d just won a bet. “Knew you’d cave.”

You rolled your eyes, following him toward the door.

Outside, the air was crisp, and the night was still—making you much more aware of the sweat building on the palms of your hand, The sleek black motorcycle stood ominously under the streetlamp, its chrome glinting under the dim glow.

You eyed it warily.

Sirius watched you, then held up a helmet. “Here.”

You hesitated, staring at it, before reaching to take it. But instead of handing it over, Sirius stepped closer, gently placing it over your head himself.

Your breath caught.

He was careful, fingertips brushing against your skin as he adjusted the straps, securing it beneath your chin. His touch was fleeting but warm, sending something strange skittering through your ribs.

“There,” he murmured, pulling back slightly, his face still close to yours. “Not so bad, huh?”

You swallowed thickly. “Mm.”

Sirius chuckled, stepping away—but then paused, eyes raking over you. His expression shifted slightly.

“You’re going to freeze,” he muttered.

Before you could even think about protesting, he was already shrugging off his leather jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

“Sirius—”

“Not up for debate.” His voice was firm, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’d hate for you to lose feeling in your limbs before you can tell me how much you love my driving.”

You sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, you slipped your arms into the sleeves, the scent of him—something rich and warm, like cedar and leather—enveloping you.

Sirius straddled the bike, motioning for you to get on.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

You hesitated for only a second before gripping onto him, arms wrapping firmly around his waist, fingers locking in front, resting your head on his back—taking in a deep breath, trying to brace yourself. Playing his words of reassurance over and over again in your head, he’s going to take care of you, you’ll be fine.

He softly patted your thigh, a final comfort, before—the bike roared to life, and you barely had time to take another breath before Sirius took off, the rush of wind stealing the breath from your lungs.

A shrill scream leaving you mouth before you could even stop it, and he felt your grip on him become impossibly tighter—holding on for dear life. Sirius laughed, his voice mingling with the night air whipping past you.

It took a while before your pulse slowed, for the rise and fall of your chest to become less rapid, less frantic and settle into pace with Sirius’. And just as you were becoming accustom to feeling of the ride, you realized something.

The streets were unfamiliar.

Your brows furrowed. “Sirius.”

“Hm?”

“This isn’t my house.”

“I know.”

You shot him a look, but he was already parking in front of a small diner, flicking the kickstand down before hopping off. “Figured you haven’t eaten all day.”

Your stomach grumbled in response.

Sirius smirked. “Thought so.”

Inside, the diner was warm, golden light casting soft shadows on the walls. You sat across from Sirius, eating in quiet companionship, for a while, the occasional teasing remark breaking the silence—and once he’d started talking, he really didn’t stop, endless questions streaming out, asking how you met James and other random acquisitions.

It was easy. Comfortable.

And you didn’t quite know what to do with that.

Afterward, Sirius drove you home, putting your helmet on your you once again, this time his eyes scanning—drinking in your face for a moment too long. Before setting off again, he pulled your arm to wrap around him tighter—squashing any space between you.

At your doorstep, you hesitated, shifting slightly on your feet—God’s did he look good, hair pulled back, a few pieces framing his face from the way he pulled off his helmet, cheeks slightly pink from the bite of the wind.

Then, before you could overthink it, you asked, “Do you…want to come in? For a cup of tea?”

Sirius’ lips twitched, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Inside, the two of you sat on your sofa, tea in hand, conversation flowing effortlessly.

Until you found yourself staring.

Really, it wasn’t your fault, it was his.

He just looked like he was hand-carved by the God’s, not just that, he looked like they took their sweet time with him. Eyes almsot sparkling under the dimly lit light of your lamp, you had no control over it—the way your eyes flickered from his lips, to his eyes, just absorbing every inch of his face.

Sirius arched a brow. “What’s the verdict?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Without your drunk goggles…” His voice was lower now, edged with mischief and something more. He leaned in impossibly closer to you, the heat of his breath, ghosting past the shell of your ear, sending an involuntary shiver down you spine—and he saw the way it ran through you. “Do you still think I’m as hot as you did last night?”

You tongue darted out to wet you lips that had become painfully dry, the second the rough tone of his voice reached your ears, and rung over and over in you head. He’d pulled back just enough to look at you, a slither of space between you.

And in a rare, unfiltered moment of boldness, you answered without hesitation.

“Yes.”

Sirius’ smirk faltered just slightly. His gaze flickered over your face, his fingers drifting from the edge of his knee to ghost just barely grazing yours. But the only thing you could focus on was the way he was looking at you.

He looked like he was considering something. Like he was daring you to say more.

Every part of you wanted to close the space between you, but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t—

“Gods, you’re pretty,” His words came out rushed, yet sincere—almost immediately pressing his lips to yours. Hands no longer hovering over your skin, pressing his palms on your thighs and leaning into you—you couldn’t exactly hold yourself up, not when your fingertips were trailing up his neck, toying with the stray hairs at his nape.

Falling softly against the settee, kiss becoming more intense as the moments passed—his hands travelling, gripping you hip, inching up to hold your waist, chests heaving against each other. Sirius had been dying for this, excruitatingly impatient and feverish in his actions, airy sighs and muffled groans passing between you.

“Sirius—mmpf,”

Your hold shifting from his hair to grasp at his shirt, the other trailing up underneath, palm hot and pressed firmly to his chest, sliding towards his shoulder, leaving light red lines in the wake of your soft scratches. Neck craning into him as his kisses travelled slowly down your jaw—nipping and sucking at the thin skin, before trailing back up—lips parted and swollen, memorising your face.

Blown out pupils, cheeks reddened, half-lidded, just perfect. His hands inched up slowly, running over the dip of your waist, the curve of your breasts, resting at your neck, pulling you up slightly and taking your bottom lip between his teeth—earning him the sweetest whimper.

Silently thanking your drunk self for granting you access to this, enjoying the moment as it continued—melting into eachother’s indulgent and plentiful touches.

[himasgod]

Chiori x Reader

Where you are the artist who inspires all her creations

Where, being a traveler, your trip makes a stop in Fontaine, where Chiori observes some drawings you made of Émilie and is impressed by your artistic skills, offering you to work alongside her in her boutique for a year.

The scent of Fontaine always evoked a feeling of nostalgia in you even before you left.

Perhaps it was the mix of the fresh water with the floral notes that floated in the air, a constant reminder that this city breathed elegance and art in every corner. As a traveler, you had traveled many places, but Fontaine had a particular way of etching itself into the soul, as if every corner was made to be immortalized on a canvas.

It was on one of those days of exploration that you found Émilie.

Your sketchbook was filled with landscapes, architecture, and faces that you had captured with precise lines and careful strokes. Émilie had been one of those faces, her elegant and sophisticated design immediately catching your attention.

It wasn’t until Chiori, the renowned Inazuma fashion designer based in Fontaine, saw the drawing that everything began to take an unexpected turn.

“It’s stunning....” she salid, with the expression of someone who had found a hidden gem. "You captured her essence in exquisite detail… Tell me, what else can you do?"

The conversation flowed naturally from then on. You told her about your trip, about how you used drawing to preserve memories of the places you visited. Chiori, fascinated by your skill, proposed a deal: if you were willing to help her with sketches to capture her ideas and visions in her designs, you could work alongside her for the time you stayed at Fontaine.

The deal seemed perfect.

One year.

Twelve months full of creativity and collaboration, in which together you would explore the possibilities of art and fashion. And so it began.

Working with Chiori was like diving into a whirlwind of fabrics, colors and concepts that seemed to go beyond the simple making of clothes. She didn't design clothes, but stories, pieces that told stories without the need for words. Her creativity was inexhaustible.

And you were the one who shaped it on paper before her hands did the same with the fabric.

At first, your relationship was purely professional. You spent hours discussing shapes, textures, and colors, how fashion could evoke emotions and memories. Chiori was demanding, but she also admired your talent, and over time, a warm tenderness began to blossom between you.

“I’ve never worked with someone who understands my ideas as quickly as you do,” she commented one day as she examined a sketch you’d made for one of her collections. “It’s almost like you can see inside my mind.”

“It’s not magic,” you replied with a smile. “I just pay attention.”

With each sketch, each conversation, and each day shared, the distance between you both grew shorter. You grew accustomed to the way she frowned when something didn’t suit her, to her subtle but charming way of praising your work.

You began to notice how her silent laugh echoed in your mind even when you weren’t together, and how her opinion on anything seemed to matter more than it should.

However, time doesn’t stand still for anyone.

The year that seemed so long at first began to evaporate like Émilie's perfume fading into the air. With each passing day, the number of sketches left to be done decreased, and with it, the certainty that your stay at Fontaine was coming to an end became impossible to ignore.

It was then that you noticed the change in Chiori.

Suddenly, the long conversations became shorter. The little jokes between you became less frequent.

Chiori began to keep her distance.

Her crimson eyes, which once sparkled with passion when talking about design, now seemed to evade you. When you tried to ask her if something was wrong, she would just shake her head and change the subject.

You couldn't ignore it. Something was going on, but Chiori didn't seem willing to talk about it.

And so, with the end of your trip drawing ever closer, you found yourself caught in a dilemma you never expected to face: leave without saying anything, or muster the courage to ask her directly what was going on between you.

Until the day of your departure came.

The studio was dim when you arrived. You had waited until the last night at Fontaine to say what you felt, because you knew that if you said it sooner, the possibility of leaving would become more and more unreal. But now, standing in front of the door of her atelier, your heart pounding in your chest, you realized that, in the end, you had made your decision a long time ago.

You pushed open the door and found her inside, sitting in front of her desk, her hands holding a spool of golden thread that she hadn’t unwound at all. Chiori looked up with an unreadable expression, as if she already knew why you had come, but was afraid to hear it out loud.

“I thought you would have left by now,” she said in a soft tone, but her gaze never met yours.

You pulled out of your bag the sketchbook you had carried everywhere. You opened it to the page containing the first design you two worked on together: a dress inspired by the sea breeze of the Petrichor coast, with fabrics so light they seemed to dance in the wind. A reminder of how it all began.

“I can’t leave without telling you this, Chiori,” you confessed, feeling the tension vibrate in the air. “When I started this journey, I thought all I wanted was to discover new places and capture them in my drawings. But here I found something else… I found you.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and let out a soft sigh. “I knew you would say something like that.”

“Then you tell me, tell me now,” you insisted, taking a step towards her. “If you feel the same, if you want me to stay, I will. But I need to hear it from you.”

Chiori stood up slowly. Her hands were barely shaking as she brought them to your face, her fingers cold in contrast to the warmth of your skin. “It would be selfish of me to ask you…” she began, but her voice broke mid-sentence.

“It’s not selfish if it’s what I want too,” you replied.

She lowered her gaze, but then, with sudden resolve, she lifted her head and kissed you. It was an unhurried kiss, laden with everything that had been left unsaid over the past year.

Her lips were soft, but firm, as if she wanted to make sure you were really there, that everything you’d said was true.

When she pulled away just a few inches, she whispered against your lips,

“Stay.”

Smiling, you caressed her cheek tenderly. “I always wanted a reason to stay in one place. And you’ve given me that.”

Chiori let out a light laugh before kissing you again, this time more confidently, as if the weight of her indecision had finally vanished.

And in that instant you knew that Fontaine would no longer be just a stopping point on your journey, but a home built from golden threads, shared sketches and a love that had found its place.

[evelynvipah]

Just so we can fight this rhetoric ~

Would you be so kind as to grace All of our screens with headcannons for things that Vi does that are "feminine" and Cait does that are "masculine".

I like to think that it takes vi a lot of time doing her makeup!

And Cait, I like to think that even though Vi has the muscle she does the heavy lifting.

I definitely agree with Vi taking her sweet time doing her makeup, and about Cait doing heavy lifting, I always enjoy reading about her going as far as picking Vi up and surprising her. It’s just too cute for me!

For Caitlyn, I think this is more in line with just the fact that she’s wealthy and wants to be a provider for Vi, I can see her always wanting to pay for every little thing and “spoil” her. I know some people see the financial providing as more of a “masculine” thing in the traditional sense so I guess this counts. However, I do believe that Vi gets a bit frustrated because she doesn’t want Caitlyn to feel as if she has to do that—buy her gifts, or spend large amounts of money on her in general. I’d imagine there’s still some internal conflict about the whole thing and she might relate it to Cait giving her handouts. But obviously they work it out; Cait simply wants to make sure Vi doesn’t want for anything. That she has all of what she needs, and wants Vi to realize that she IS allowed to live this way. Not struggling and being able to buy or do things just for pleasure and not survival.

I find it a bit hard to think of things Cait would do that hasn’t been touched on like with the hunting, but I think another thing Cait does that’s seen as more “masculine” in society is stuff like hiking and camping. I feel like she’s become a serious outdoor type of person due to her upbringing and opportunities. She’s big on having all the essentials, and spending the days and nights in the woods enjoying nature. This could also be a favorite for her because of how it could be a connection to Cassandra and their family. I feel like she takes their camping trips and makes it a way to show off her hunting skills to Vi and impress her. Locating and tracking, shooting down the biggest deer to make dinner with. I think both Cait and Vi have their homebody moments, but I can see Caitlyn really enjoying going on long hikes especially if it’s more in the countryside in Ionia or something. Vi could be dying, trudging after Cait and she’s like “we have a couple miles left to go 😁”. And it’s really to enjoy the views and experience this joy with someone she loves.

Something Vi does that may be seen as more “feminine” to people I feel could be her doing yoga or pilates outside of regular working out. I think Vi may deal with a lot of chronic pain and body spasms due to the constant physical abuse she faced and fighting so, I imagine she gets introduced to it as a way to really give her body some support and relieve her of those symptoms.

One other thing for Vi could be gardening since she’s making use of her hands and really connecting with nature. Something she wasn’t really able to do in the Lanes or Stillwater. I see her finding great pleasure in planting fruits and vegetables that she could eventually cook with (another hc I have, she’s the cook in the family), or flowers that she finds herself liking. For her, being out in the dirt and having the sun shine on her—knowing that she’s nurturing something and helping it grow is fulfilling and rewarding. It might also remind her that she is free and doesn’t have to worry about ever feeling locked up again.

Not gonna lie, this was a bit hard because my brain is constantly reminding me that all of these hobbies I think of aren’t inherently feminine or masculine so it’s hard to really say for the characters.😭😭 But unfortunately people in our society don’t think that same way so there is a bit to go off of with this.

If you wanted, I’d love to hear about what hobbies or headcanons you have for them, but thank you for the ask again💗

[raena-the-first]

⋆˚⟢ Give me your poison

[One-shots] [BNHA Masterlist]

Summary . . . Izuku may have given you a wrong impression of his expectations when it comes to you or your tastes. Good thing he knows how to lift your spirits.

Notes . . . Randomly decided to write this cause how the hell people stick to one aesthetic ?? Also Izuku would totally be into an alt gf.

Dating you felt like something horrible was lifted off of Izuku’s chest, not that he was feeling terrible either, but ever since you two started going out he couldn’t help but smile a little wider, be a little bit more excited, a little more carefree. You were just so perfect in his eyes, he constantly would ask himself what he did to ever did to deserve being your boyfriend.

He kept repeating that to you every day, every chance he got he would tell you about it. He just couldn’t help but sing your praises. He probably would’ve everyone’s ear off if he wasn’t shy to talk about his love life, not that Denki and Sero didn’t try to tease him and pry about your relationship.

Maybe it was because the two of you started dating and he was too infatuated with you, but he didn’t care, he wanted to express his love to you every chance he got, get to know you even more than he originally did. And boy did he get to know you, he almost felt hurt.

He went to the mall to meet up with some of his friends, walking through it to pass the time while they were coming, when he noticed a group of teens his age, all dressed in kind of alternative fashion. He could’ve just walked past them and forget the next day, but he saw your face amongst them. You, his precious preppy girlfriend dressed in a skirt that was probably ripped and stitched with other fabrics a million times, bunch of band pins that he didn’t even know you would listen to, and a t-shirt with the most vulgar stuff that he didn’t even think could come out of your pretty mouth.

He was flabbergasted.

He called your name and you turned around, panic on your face. Why would you panic at the sound of his voice ? That didn’t make any sense to him. Worst of all the people you were with, your obvious friends, were asking you who he was. That broke his heart into a million pieces. His smile faded, his shoulder slumped and he simply walked away.

You followed him in a rush, calling his name as he kept walking away, before you finally grabbed his arm and made him turn to you. He looked sad, disappointed and hurt, would’ve probably cried if he wasn’t risking making a scene right in the mall.

“Why didn’t you tell your friends about us ?”

A little questioning “uh” left your mouth, looking at him confused.

“Wait, you’re not mad about my outfit ?”

Now it was his turn to look at you confused, pulling your into a secluded corner to talk more openly, “Wait what do you mean your outfit ? Why would I be mad about your outfit ?”

You bit your lip, looking down at your fidgeting hands, “I thought you find me weird or some sh- stuff. You always talked about how perfect I am, I didn’t want to disappoint you”

He looked at you like you said the must idiotic thing in the world, which to him you clearly did. He took both your hands, stopping you from fidgeting as he said in his softest voice “Look at me”

You did, finding him smiling fondly at you, like you were his whole world and nothing else mattered. “I would never think you’re weird. You’re the most amazing person I have ever had the honour of knowing, you hear that ? I love whether you’re in your cute pastel outfits, or rocking a punk outfit, or saying the most fucked shit”

Your mouth was hanging open, and here you thought your boyfriend was a pure cinnamon roll. He only laughed in your face, kissing your pretty hands “I’m respectful baby, not a saint”

You blushed at that, averting your gaze. “Right…” You looked back at him, thoughtful expression on your face. “Do you wanna meet my friends ?”

He smiled at you even more, his face lighting up like a million stars as he took your hand and started walking towards where the both of you came from. “I would love to” He answered, kissing the crown of your head.

After meeting your friends, chatting about your relationship and other stuff that you didn’t admit about yourself before, Izuku walked you home, the sun already disappearing as the night took over and the stars started shining brighter. You stood against your locked door, both of your hands intertwined with each others.

“Thank you Izuku… I’m really glad it turned out this way. My mum kept asking me why I started dressing in the same manner” You said with a laugh.

“I’m glad as well” He leaned closer to you, whispering into your ear. “Maybe next time you will dress goth and smudge your black lipstick all over my lips”

That made you so flustered you dropped his hands and rushed inside your house, bidding him goodnight as you leaned against the door, pressing your hand to your chest, as if that would stop your heart from beating out of it. But you would definitely listen to his advice.

[luxielisbcn]

winterpapen is more than canon

whether you believe Richard and Henry’s relationship was requited or not you cannot deny there WAS homoerotic subtext, Richard did not compare his dynamic with Henry to Achilles and Patroclus for no reason…the last scene being between them and the “i loved him too!” was more than enough to prove their relationship was not just platonic or manipulative. Especially since richard declared his love for Henry in the same context as Camilla did…come on now.

Henry showed rare moments of vulnerability with Richard such as when Henry was in near tears after julian left and sat alone with Richard in the library where richard greeted him “hey…hey Henry it’s me” ???? he wouldn’t have shown that kind of emotion around anyone else in the greek class. He also opened up to Richard in that same scene about how Julian was more of a father to him than his actual father.

Their conversation in the country house as well where Henry was able to recognise that Richard hated where he came from and Henry admitting he felt the same.

I can also recall their argument outside of Henry’s apartment while Henry was gardening. Richard was near tears despite Henry being unusually calm and dismissive instead of hostile and belittling like his arguments with Bunny or Charles.

Another point is that Henry saving Richard was more than enough to buy Richard’s trust and loyalty, Henry did not need to go out of his way to yell at the nurses for being too aggressive with him while he was asleep, reading to him at the hospital and never leaving his side and giving Richard his own bed for the rest of the winter as well as preparing him meals and taking care of him.

Henry purposely came back to Hampden from Rome looking for Richard for days instead of busying himself in his work or studies like he often would.

Henry’s mom holding Richard’s hand at the hospital, staying by his side nearly everyday and thanking him for being such a great friend to her son also proved so much even if she was under the impression he took a bullet for Henry. Henry’s mom knew about Richard despite this which I find very lovely.

Richard still driving Henry’s car all those years later is also very heartwarming considering the many memories they shared there both good and bad like the time Henry told Richard to drive him to the optometrist in order to get away from Bunny but they ended up just driving around by themselves.

There was also this one particular scene where Henry knocks on Richard’s dorm and awkwardly maybe even shyly asks him if he’d like to go for a drive with him alone and Richard grabs his coat without a word and they wind up going out to lunch together.

Henry admitting that he wanted to include Richard in the bacchanal but did not due to the other members not entirely accepting him or deeming him worthy enough is another interesting point. Henry tells Richard he’d always known he’d figure out what they did to the farmer even if the rest did not deem Richard smart enough to uncover what they had done.

Henry tasting burnt coffee and thinking of Richard first thing.

In Summery:

They are not platonic

They are not one sided

Henry did in fact care for Richard and admired him

Their relationship was not solely built on manipulation and control