#its always like 'this is how you should do this bit' we love a committed director!!!!

[borealing]

i also forgot that in sci at the end of every ep they have these little bts snippets of the cast and the director is thee most hands on person and he always seems to be manhandling gongsuns actor 😂😂 they clearly had such a good time filming this show

[eyesxxyou]

My Hero

☆🕷️。・hobie brown x blackcat!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.3k

synopsis. you and Hobie have long been playing the game of cat and spider. you chase, you fight, you fuck, you fight again, and you two love your games. until you find your life in danger because you stole something you shouldn't have

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🐾warning: p in v sex, unprotected sex don't do that children, a bit of sub!hobie, riding, reverse cowgirl, oral (m receiving) a bit of anal play not much though, hobie being kinda whiny and needy.

You always had a way of coming back into Hobie’s life when he needed you to the very least. Just when he was beginning to think that maybe he wasn’t head over heels obsessed with the Black Cat as he thought he was, that he’d be able to look at you one day and not have the irresistible urge to kiss you and take you wherever the two of you might be, whether you be allies or enemies that day. He’d think that smile of yours, filled with chaos and mischief, framed in the silver fangs of your piercings, was just like any other, and that he didn’t have every inch of your body committed to memory.

Then you’d pop back up from wherever you spent your down time and bring back with you all the emotions he thought he had discarded in the rubbish bin down the street as well as your usual additional bullshit that he always played his own part in. That’s how you ended up in his very own bed, his real bed, the one he sleeps in every night, in just a thong and a baby tee that says 'I love (the love is a heart) to make men cry' as your hair now black as the night sky.

He never told you where he lived. No one would have assumed that the vigilante Spider-Man would live on a canal boat. But you were smart, crafty. If anyone were to figure it out, it would have been you.

Hobie was just swinging back on to his docked boat when he felt the familiar tingle of his spidey-senses going off. The prickling of his hair standing as his body moved by its own fruition. He leapt out of the way just before one of your knives could catch him. It came from overhead, the top of his boat where you perched yourself. The knife lodged itself in the wooden deck between his booted feet and he looked up at you.

There it was. All those feelings. They disgusted him but he loved you. He loved your slightly violent ways of showing love that never leave him wounded for long. Your usually pure white hair now raven black in wild curls, bad luck and even worse intentions radiating off of you. The smallest twinkle of fondness in your eyes as you look at him with that grin of yours.

“You always gotta try ‘n kill me every time we meet?” Hobie asks you at you drop down from your perch in front of him with the agility of a cat and snatch up your knife from his deck. You’re in regular clothes with a duffle bag tossed over your shoulder and cat-ish makeup on your pretty face. “I never try to kill you, hon. Just testing your reflexes.” You tucked your knife away, Your hand coming to rest on his chest affectionately. “Miss me, Bee?”

Always. “‘Aven’ crossed ma min’, luv.” He spoke gruffly. You looked up at him with knowing eyes. “I missed you too.” You got up on your toes, your hand coming to the nape of his neck to pull him close and kiss him, a friendly hello to make up from your aggressive one. Hobie kissed you back immediately, didn’t even have to think about it, how body did all the work for him. He knew he should be asking questions. How the fuck did you figure out where he lived for one. But oh— it’s like you knew that kissing him would make him nice, malleable, agreeable, and dumb. Hobie’s not dumb. He’d wise up quick so you had to beat him to the punch.

“I need your help, Hobes.” You murmured against his lips before he kissed you once again in sloppy play fighting with your tongues. “I’m in trouble.”

“When are you no’?” He left out in a slight breathless chuckle, finally pulling away. Wised up. “Wha’cha do?”

You nipped softly at your bottom lip, containing a slight smile. But if he wasn’t mistaken, there was a bit of fear behind those eyes. “I stole something I shouldn’t have.”

“Those are the only thin’ worth stealin’.”

“Bad people are after me, Hobie, and I need a place to lay low for a little bit.” Your lips twitched a little. Yes, definitely fear. “I need help and I heard Spider-Man is in the business of helping people.” It was definitely a shot at your pride. You hated admitting you needed help, spent years drowning because you denied everyone's attempts to throw you a life raft. Hobie knew you’d rather stab yourself in the foot. And that meant this was serious.

"Come on, le's ge' inside."

And that's why you're here in his bed, because the fear of being suffocated in your sleep in your own home left you paranoid. Hobie settled down beside you in his narrow bed with his arm tossed behind his head, the action pulling his shirt up just enough to reveal his naval and that beautiful happy trail leading down his low-hanging sweatpants. "Wha'cha take?"

"Nosey much?" Yet, you cozied up right beside him in his rather cushy bed. You liked the way he smelled, like musk and sweat and the faint hint of faded body wash. Some days, depending on the activities, he smelt metallic, like blood, and you loved that even more. You love his sharp, stoic beauty. Loved his hair and the unmarked flesh of his neck that was usually either bruised or cut in some way. Sometimes done by your own hand.

Hobie's hand was on your thigh, the pads of his fingers messaging your flesh as he looked at your face, dimly lit by the waning moonlight reflecting off the broad ocean and glittering into your face. Your lips were wet, full, pouty. Your eyes sharp and piercing. He could see the pretty peaks of your nipples beneath your shirt. He wanted to run his thumb across them, call you his pretty girl. Mumble into your mouth incoherent words of ignorant admiration. "You came t'me, lovie. I feel I gotta righ' to know wha' kinda trouble you're in."

You two couldn't keep your grubby paws off of each other, always stealing touches, slight caresses like you two were fooling anyone. Every fluid movement between you two, always playing off each other's last, was done like something of a ritualistic dance. You take something from him, he takes it back, whether by hand or by web, you get up close and with both of your quick instincts you're fighting over the objects of your desire, seeing who's wit will prevail in the end. Your banter often followed the same routine.

"Well, I feel I have the right to reserve that info. Jus' do your job, pretty boy. Keep me safe so people don't come and ruin this pretty face you like so much." You pull him close and place a soft kiss on his slender cheek before dropping the matter all together. "But— I am very grateful for your kindness. My hero." You press your lips against the shell of his ear, peppering kisses against his skin.

You shuffled about in his bed, maneuvering between his legs with your hands against his sweatpants to pull them down. "I want to thank you."

Hobie let out a breathy chuckle as you worked to pull his cock out from his pants. "I don't need thanks, par' of ma job, but I won' refuse one." Not with lips like yours and a sharp tongue that could turn so, so soft when put to good use.

Your hands held his half-hard cock, twitching with the pumping blood that made him grow harder by the second, and you stroked him softly, gathering saliva to spit on his tip and spread down his length. Hobie shuttered under your touch, looking down at you through hooded lids as his tongue poked out to wet his lip then nip at it. "Go easy." He murmured, knowing he mercilessly beat his cock earlier to the thought of you, not knowing when he might see that pretty body of yours again.

You always start so slow, feigning a sort of innocence about the way you kiss his leaking tip and suckle on it as you look up at him through your long lashes. You'd keep going on like this forever if you had the choice but Hobie was impatient and restless. Grunting with pleasure and disapproval, he'd tuck his fingers in the curls of your hair and get a nice, firm grasp before pushing your head down further.

You'd relent, let your jaw slack so he could sink his cock further into your mouth, the sensitive tip of his dick dragging across the plain of your tongue. He'd let out something of a strangled, choking whimper before biting his lip. "Fuckin'-" He'd let out in a breathy moan as his head would fall back and he'd guide you head up and down the length of his cock.

It happened every time and this was no different other than the slight way from the waves rocking the boat. His fingers were in your hair, guiding your movements as his dick slid along your tongue against your throat. "Goo', kitty." He stroked your head and pulled your head away to stroke the tip of his cock against your saliva-coated lips.

You took him all the way to the hilt, let him settle down your throat before swallowing. It drove him crazy, made him shiver as he pressed your face to his pelvis and coaxed you to do it again. You swallowed and swallowed before pulling your head back and swirling your tongue against the head of his cock. You bobbed your head at a nice, steady pace, reveling in every hiss that escaped his dark, pretty lips.

He was losing himself to you, to that mouth, to that dark gaze of yours. Head like this made him fall in love. Made him completely mad for you. And oh, you were bad, so bad and he needed you. He needed to be inside you, needed you in top of him.

Hobie moaned softly. "Come'ere." He pulled you off his cock and pulled you up the length of his body.

You kissed him, hand stroking his length in gentle strokes while you sat on his thighs. His tongue found yours, your teeth nipped at his full lip. "You like to pretend you don't miss me but you gotta miss head like that."

"You have no idea, luv."

You climbed further on top of him, kneeling above him with your hands caressing the sides of his pretty face. "Just lay back and let me thank you, hmm? I'm not always so grateful." You pushed him back against his few pillows. Hobie lied with a hand behind his head, watching as you got up and turned around to give him a nice view of your ass from behind.

You pulled your thong to the side, that pretty pussy of yours on display for him, nice and wet. You reached back and took him into you hand to drag the thick of his cock between your pussy lips, stroking your aching clit with his tip. You got him nice and wet with the creamy juices of your cunt before lining him up against your wanting entrance.

He slid in so nicely, the tip stretched your nether lips apart. Your back arched subtly as you pushed your ass back more and let him sink deeper within you. Hobie pulled a single hand from behind his head and grabbed a handful of your ass to get a better view,

That pussy of yours could make a grown man weep. So wet, so tight, so mind-numbingly soft. You knew how to move your hips in just the right fashion to make him want to cum inside every single time. Just the sight of your lips hugging his cock was enough to make him crumble in ways no other could make him. He’s whimpered for you for fucks sake and one rested in his throat right at this very moment.

You sat in his lap with his member sitting snugly in you. You rocked your hips nice and slow, circling in a way that left you shuddering. Hobie squeezed your ass then smacked it with a sharp swing of his palm. “Don’ start teasin’ now, kitty. Show me.” He pressed his hand against your lower back just enough to get a nice view of his cock inside of you. His thumb rubbed circles against your asshole and earned him something of a whimper.

You placed your hands on his thighs as leverage and raised your hips, moaning at the feeling of his thick cock dragging against your sensitive walls. You went until only the tip remained before sitting back down and taking him in once more.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" The last one was long and drawn out as you felt him nuzzle against your cervix and press against that soft place in your walls that made you grip his thighs tight and need him a little more.

Hobie cupped your ass with his hand, this thumb still tentatively rubbing circles against your tight rim of muscles as you took him over against and again. That pretty pussy of yours so idyllic it looked more like a fleshlight than anything. It gripped him like a vice, like a sin, oh you were such a sin and you felt so good.

"Shit, luv– fuck. Treatin' me good f'once aren'cha?"

You rose until your pussy let him go with a nice, wet pop and swiftly turned around to straddle him as you were before. "I can treat you so much better, Hobes." You reached back, let him take your cunt again and watched his face as his brows furrowed and his mouth fell open with the beginnings of a moan.

Your eyes rolled back as he entered you fully, lids fluttering. You stroked his head and rutted your hips against his own, your clit stroking against his pelvis. You moaned softly, looking down at his pretty face looking equally as fucked out.

Hobie's hands grappled at your hips, thighs, and ass, unsure of where he wanted his hands the most. "Keep fuckin' me like tha'." His hands finally settled on your waist, forced you up and down on his cock like his personal sextoy. His hands were under that little baby tee you were wearing, squeezing handfuls and fondling your breasts.

Hobie's head rolled back, his eyes fluttering shut with the pleasure of it all. With a pussy like this, if you asked him to give up being Spider-Man, he would. With a pussy like this, you could ask him anything and he'd agree with you. So nice and tight and wet. He could feel that slick of yours dribbling down his length, rolling in clear pearls over his balls.

You grabbed his jaw and forced him to look at you. "Keep those eyes on me, Bee. Pretty eyes like those, I wanna see'em." Those eyes that look at you in a hooded daze, not a thought in that brain of his just you, you, you. His hands stroked the sides of your body, cupped your tits, grappled at your hips, forced you to fuck him harder.

He reached between your legs and stroked your swollen clit with his digits. He needed you to cum for him, before him, you had conditioned him like Pavlov. He can't cum unless he knows you've cum first. He needs to see that expression of absolute euphoria across your face to finally know relief himself.

"Please cum f'me, luv. Please, please, I need i'. Y'know I do. Please." Hobie panted and begged. And oh the way your pussy squeezed him in segments, pulsing and quivering with the beginnings of an orgasm.

You squeezed his jaw harder, looked him in the eyes with your forehead pressed against his. The tips of your noses touches, the heat of your breath met the others and you felt the desperation in his breath.

He pinched and rolled your clit between his fingers, watched you lose your breath and ride a little harder. "Come on, luv. 'm good fo' i'. Jus' cum f'me." He kept murmuring, watching your expression, playing with the clit he knew from top to bottom. Your pussy was beginning to make a nice, creamy squelch around his cock, your cunt quivering with your climax.

Your hips bucked as you sat in his lap and pulsed around his cock. "Fuck, Hobes. Shit, oh my- fuckin' God." He stroked your clit through your orgasm, your rocking hips milking his dick, a womb begging for his load. You were left shuddering uncontrollably with eyes barely able to stay open. Oh you were high on it, dick like this doesn't come by often and you were intent on enjoying it as you always do.

You fucked him hard, left a creamy ring around the base of his cock, fucked him because you needed him to cum because that was the whole point of this. You liked the face he made when he came. The slight smile, a daze in his gaze, the complete loss of control of every extremity.

He submitted himself entirely to you, let you spit in his mouth, slap his cheek, do whatever you wanted to him because he can feel nothing but the way your pussy milks him for all he's worth.

"My hero," you cooed. Stroking his cock as he came in nice, thick ropes inside you. His large hands squeezed your ass, your thighs, your waist, grappled at you as the very breath got knocked out of him. His lips sought out yours as they always eventually do with a wanton moan. He kissed you like he was in love, all tongue and teeth, all consuming. A kiss that says 'don't leave just yet, let's just sit here'.

You know for certain that he's in love with you and you find it adorable. You could say you reciprocated it, could say you wanted a nice, quiet life with him. But you both knew you weren't built for that, not when your allyship was so unstable and one moment you could be working together for a greater cause and the next you have a knife to his throat and intend on taking a little more than just a little blood. It's never hard feelings, a girl's gotta do what she's gotta do to get ahead under the oppressive eye of fascist government.

Hobie half wondered if you were just here to get the drop on him, make him let his guard down to attack him. There could never be trust between the two of you, not complete trust anyway.

"You know we can't, Bee." You pulled away from him, pulled off of his softening cock and laid down beside him with your thong settling back into place. "As much as I'd love to, you know we're not compatible."

Hobie scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I beg to diffa. We're compatible, we're fuckin' soulmates. I jus' can' figure out if we're sworn to be lovers or enemies." You look up at him, at his distant eyes that don't look back at you but instead out of a narrow window at the silver sea.

"What do you think's gonna happen while I'm here?"

Hobie finally looked down at you, his lips slowly pulling into something of a lopsided smile. "We're gonna fuck a lo', eventually hate each otha a lil' more, still fuck while we hate each otha. You'll probably try t'kill me at some poin' 'n 'm okay wit' i'. But at the end o' the day, I ain' gotta Scooby Doo, mate."

You sit up, lean in, and kiss him. In another universe, you could love him without hindrance. You've tried to love different versions of him but none compare to your Hobie, not even the Prowler Hobie you stumbled upon and made yours for a little while.

No one could compare to your hero.

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part VII

*inhales aggressively* VESSEL CHAPTER!!!!!! FINALLY!!!! Reader has a talk with the boys about what exactly happened with the night's kissing incident, after so much time of him being a bit distant towards reader Vessel decides to let his softer side show, plus more moments with III because I'm in love with him and I can't help myself sorry not sorry hehe I can't wait to know what you all think of this chapter thank you all so much for all the wonderful comments. If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: discussion of boundaries, proposals of a polyamorous relationship (I tried my best to make it realistic but I, myself, am not polyamorous), fluffy stuff per usual. NOT PROOFREAD

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

Part VI - Part VIII

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sight before you almost made you want to laugh. The four grown men that sat in various seats around your living room almost resembled a group of school kids waiting anxiously outside the principal's office. “I’m sorry.” III was the first of them to speak up.

“No, if anything I should be the one apologizing.” II quickly follows, both of them unable to even look in your direction.

“I’m not upset at either of you, I’m just… confused.” You respond softly.

“It started off as simple crushes; me, IV, III, Ves.” You noticed Vessel’s shoulder tense as he was dragged into this conversation as well. “We all think you’re beautiful-”

“And very sweet.” III adds on. You can’t help the subtle smile that finds its way to your lips at their compliments.

“We could tell things had gotten a little more serious between you and III so we all decided to back off. But, I can’t lie to you,” II chuckled, “I’m a very jealous man. So when someone tries to keep me from what I want I don’t typically respond the best.”

“And I don’t feel right asking you to commit solely to me when you clearly have feelings for II, as well.” III adds his piece. You found it odd, there was no anger in his voice at the thought of you with his friend. “I guess what we’re trying to say is, um…” he trails off, looking to II as he searches for the right words to say.

“How would you feel about dating all of us?” Vessel breaks the thick tension with his blunt question. You felt like all of the air had been punched from your lungs, your heart jumping into your throat as your head snapped in his direction.

“Vessel, you can’t phrase it like that!” IV groans from his spot on your couch, dropping his head into his hand.

“What? She's a big girl, you don't need to beat around the bush.”

“Dating… dating all of you?” You finally mutter after a few moments of shocked silence.

“Obviously only if you're comfortable with that.” III stands from his seat, slowly stepping closer to you. “You don't have to say yes to any of this. It doesn't matter if you want to date only me, or if you would be okay dating all of us. Hell, after dropping this on you, there's a chance you might not want to see any of us ever again.” You didn't miss the nervousness that laced its way into his laughter. III was genuinely scared that this was going to fully push you away. “But, it's about what you want, that's the important part.”

“And you're all okay with this?” You would be lying if you tried to say you didn't find the offer very appealing. Every member of the group that sat before you drew you to them in one way or another, they were definitely an attractive bunch to put it lightly; III with his subtle intensity, who was always making you laugh, II who would turn you into a flustered mess with his sweet words, IV who’s easily excitable nature and blind confidence when it came to complimenting you made your heart thrum in your chest, Vessel who lets his hand linger on your waist as he maneuvers around you doing restock days, who holds your gaze for perhaps a little longer than necessary when wishing you goodbye at night. But, could you really handle four relationships? 

“The way we see it, we’d rather share you with others who we know are going to take good care of you than to be forced to hold our tongues about how we feel about you.” II explains.

“I…” you trail off as you look between the four of them. “I need some time to think.” Your voice shook slightly as you spoke.

“Of course.” Vessel responds. Without another word II, III, and IV stood, quietly said their goodbyes to you and left your apartment. Vessel hung back for a moment, waiting for III to fully shut the door behind him before breathing out a sigh. “I'm sorry that all of this happened the way it did. I kept telling them to wait to bring it up.” His gaze drops to you, who was silently fidgeting with your fingers as you leaned against the wall.

“I can always tell them to back off, love.”

“No, you don't have to do that.” You brush him off. “It's nothing to do with any of you, you're all incredible. It's just- it's me, that's what the problem is.” You tried to force a laugh to prove to Vessel that you were fine, his unchanging expression let you know immediately that he saw right through you. “You're all so wonderful, and the fact that you would be willing to make such a huge compromise.” You stare through the slits of his mask, believing you were meeting his eyes. “What if it's not worth it?”

You didn't have time to register what was happening before Vessel was in front of you, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I know I might not be as… prominent with my acts of affection as the others.” He pulls back slightly, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as your eyes instinctively rise to look at him. “But, considering II put things out in the open, I need you to know that I care for you viscerally.” The soft growl that found its way into his voice made your cheeks grow warm. “I don't want you to feel pressured into anything you don't want, but I need you to understand that there has not been a single moment since I met you that would make me think any of this wasn't worth it.” You blink slowly as a hand comes to rest on the top of your head, comfortingly patting the spot. “Would it be alright if I came and checked in tomorrow?” You nod, reluctantly letting your hands fall away from their position pressed against his chest as he stepped back, his warmth fading away with it.

“Goodnight, Ves.” Your voice cracked slightly as you tried to keep your overwhelming emotions in check.

“Goodnight love, rest well.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You watched the second hand on the clock tick, bringing you closer to when Vessel would usually make his nightly supply runs. You hadn’t managed to sleep at all the night prior, tossing and turning as you played through every scenario you could think of as you made your decision. At the sight of the familiar pick up truck rumbling into the lot you felt your heart race. “This is it.” You muttered out loud to the empty store. “No going back now.” He poked his head through the door before fully entering.

“You still open?” He offers you a playful smile.

“No, but for you I'll make an exception.” You giggle in response. He slowly steps inside and approaches the counter.

“How’d thinking on things go?” He rests his elbows on the counter, bringing him closer to face level with you.

You set a hand down on the counter, Vessel cautiously reaching out to take it in his own. He hesitates for a moment, his hand drawing back slightly as if he was preparing to pull away. His fingers were rough against the soft skin of your hand when he finally decided to take his, his thumb running languidly across the peaks and valleys of your knuckles as he waited patiently for your response. “I want to take things slow… but the thought of having all of you to myself is a little too good to pass up.” He breathes out a chuckle, flashing you a sharp smirk that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Is that so?” He mulls over how to respond to your statement for a moment. “How about I make us dinner and we can sit down and talk about how slow you want to take things, just so we can make sure everyone is on the same page.”

“You want to cook me dinner?” You shoot him a playful smile. “Is it going to be edible?” He bellows out a laugh in response.

“You're funny, you know I've been told I'm a wonderful cook.” He points an accusatory finger at you, standing up to collect what ingredients he needed from around the store. “Just you wait and see, this is going to be the best damn meal you've ever eaten.”

The whole thing was a bit strange in the best way. If he hasn't told you so directly you would've sworn that Vessel thought of you as little more than an acquaintance. But now, you were sitting on your kitchen counter, a glass of white wine swirling around in your hand, rolling your eyes playfully at all of Vessel’s terrible jokes as he made the two of you dinner. He asks you where you keep your plates, you easily reach into the cabinet behind you and produce a pair, holding them out to him with a soft smile. He carefully plates the pasta he made, penne with bacon and spinach and some type of cream sauce he had pulled together with odds and ends from your pantry. “It smells incredible.” He saunters in front of you, trapping you on the counter by placing a hand on either side of your waist.

“And here you were questioning my culinary skills.” He feigns a hurt tone before a soft chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Come on beautiful, let's go eat.” He pulls away from you, your body trailing after his warmth. You pad your way into the living room, Vessel close behind as he carries your plate for you. You sat close together on the couch, angling yourself to better face him. “So, define slow.” He jumps in immediately.

“Let me at least get a couple bites in.” Vessel can't help but smile at your teasing tone. “I just… I don’t know. This is all so different I don't think I can really tell you what going slow even means.”

“Well, I can assure you that all of us care a lot about how you feel during all of this.”

“And I know that.”

“I think you're worried about more than just taking things slow, love. What's on your mind?” The softness to his tone immediately lulled your anxious mind into a sense of safety.

“I'm worried about things developing quicker in certain relationships than others, I just don't want that to cause any of you to fight.” You absentmindedly twisted your fork around in your fingers, studying it as you tried to put into words what was racing through your mind.

“That might happen, but if it does it's alright. Unfortunately that's just something we have to deal with.” He chuckles. “There's no doubt in my mind that you would be more comfortable moving a bit quicker with III than you would with me, he started flirting with you from the start. We all know that you're in various stages of getting to know us, we're more than willing to give you time to figure all of that out.” Hearing him being so reassuring made the heaviness weighing in your chest lighten considerably. “Is there anything else I can do to ease that pretty little head of yours?” You slowly shake your head no before pausing. You looked at the man before you, swallowing thickly as you mulled over an idea. Vessel was an enigma to you even after months of knowing him. He was aloof, quiet, but the few rare instances he let part of his personality break through you could tell just how wonderful he could really be.

“Dance with me?” The question hung in the air for a moment before Vessel wordlessly rose to his feet.

“I will warn you, I'm not much of a dancer.” He chuckles, outstretching his hand for you to take. His palm was warm against your fingertips; the smudged edges of his paint were a stark contrast to the pale skin underneath.

“What a shame, neither am I.” You giggle in response before he pulls you to your feet. He looks around the room, making a small sound of affirmation to himself before pushing your coffee table out of the way to open up the space. You walked over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room, clicking on your radio and letting the soft tune crackle to life. Vessel stood in the center of the room, hands shoved into his pockets as he waited for your return, a soft smile settling onto his lips.

“You look really beautiful today.” He says softly, one strong arm reaching out for you and wrapping around your waist when you were within reach. Your fingers intertwine with his, Vessel watching carefully as each delicate digit slotted between his own. Your cheeks grow warm as you timidly accept the compliment. You had never been this close to Vessel before, feeling the way his muscles tensed and shifted under the hand that rested on his shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. You were unable to tear your eyes away from him, the intricate detailing along the edge of his mask highlighting how wide and bright his smile was as he gazed down at your flustered form. The music you had turned on was non existent at this point, the only thing mattering at this point in time was Vessel finally allowing you the briefest glimpse inside his walls. You managed to trip over your own feet, yelping slightly as you stumbled into him. “Easy now, I got you.” He chuckles, helping to steady you on your feet. “If you're going to faint at least wait until I kiss you for the first time.” He jokes

“Already thinking about kissing me, huh?” You smile coyly

“It'd be hard not to with a pretty face like that.” You let out a flustered laugh, your eyes dropping to the floor. You jumped when there was a sudden knock on the door. You reluctantly pull out of Vessel’s grasp, his fingers trailing across your waist as he tries to remain connected to you until the last possible moment. You slowly open the door, not knowing who to expect on the other side so late. You froze when your eyes landed on III, who was nervously swaying his heels on the creaky wooden landing outside. The moment he realized you had answered he immediately began to ramble.

“I'm sorry, I know you said you needed time to think and I absolutely respect that. I just, I know we kissed, and if you decide you don't want to go through with this I don't want it to make things weird-”

“III.” His mouth snaps shut as you softly say his name. You look back into your living room, Vessel’s head rested in his hand, he seemed mildly annoyed to be interrupted. Not knowing how to respond, you simply pushed the door wide open, III’s attention immediately drawn to Vessel. “We were actually just talking about that.” His eyes widen slightly, his gaze switching between you and his friend.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt-”

“I was just leaving, actually.” Your brows furrowed in confusion. You turn to face him as he walks up to you. He cradles your face in his hand, “tonight was wonderful, I hope we get to do this again soon.” He swipes his thumb across your cheek, leaving a thin black streak in its wake. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, Ves.” You respond breathlessly. You turn to face III, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before reaching out and taking his hand, tugging him inside your apartment. His eyes stay locked on you as he follows you through the door, shutting it quietly behind him. “I really enjoyed, um… kissing you last night was really nice.” You let out a flustered laugh. “I don’t want you to worry that you made things weird.”

He chuckles, “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He stuffs his hand in his pockets, shifting his weight awkwardly. “I hope that talk you guys were having was a good one.”

“I think you’ll be very satisfied with the outcome.” You giggle. He gazes at you curiously, the usual playful sparkle back in his eyes when he realized he hadn’t scared you off.

“Is that so?” He saunters closer to you, his towering height and intense gaze threatening to make your knees buckle. “You let me know if any of this is moving too fast, okay?” He says sweetly, gently cupping your jaw.

“Okay.” You smile up at him. He trails his thumb over your bottom lip, his bright blue eyes darting around your features as he drank in the sight of you.

“You are simply gorgeous, love.” He whispers after a moment of silence.

“You flatter me too much.” Both hands slide around your waist, gently pulling you flush against him.

“I'm only telling my girl the truth.” He smiles. Your eyes flash up to meet his, the declaration of being his girl making your heart flutter in your chest. “Well, it seems like we have the night to ourselves. What would you like to do?” Wordlessly you take one of the hands that had settled against the curve of your hip, guiding him towards your couch. You threw on a movie, something mindless that you didn't need to pay attention to. Tonight was about spending time with III. No distractions, no hidden feelings, just you and someone who made you feel like a girl experiencing her first crush all over again. III takes you in his arms, laying back and pulling you on top of him in the process. One arm resting comfortably behind his head, the other slung over your waist as the two of you cuddled in a comfortable silence. “You know, I was really worried all of this would make you never speak to me again.” He speaks up after a while through a quiet chuckle.

“I was definitely a bit nervous about the idea, still kind of am if I'm being honest.” You laugh softly, absentmindedly tracing shapes against the soft material of his sweatshirt on his chest. “But, none of you have given me any reason not to trust you, so despite being nervous I feel like this is the right choice.”

“How you feel about this is very important to me, okay? If there's ever anything I can do for you love, just let me know.” He rubs his hand soothingly up and down your back, keeping you pressed close to him almost as if he was scared if he let you go you'd disappear. The two of you stayed up talking late into the night; you learned that III is more of a cat person than a dog person, his favorite color is red, and he would willingly disappear into the woods without a trace if it meant never folding laundry again. “It's such a dumb concept, I'm going to put the damn clothes on anyways. Why do they have to be folded and put away?” You hid your face against his shoulder, trying to hide the fact you had tears forming in your eyes from laughing so hard. You look up at him with a bright smile, the tangent dying in his throat as his eyes meet yours. He slowly sits himself up on his elbows, your body responding as it gradually slid into his lap. One of his hands pressed into the small of your back, keeping you held as close to him as possible, the other moving to cup your cheek.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about kissing you since last night.” You admit in a tone barely above a whisper.

“Trust me, I wasn't doing much better.” He chuckles, his gaze briefly flashing down to your lips. “Everything about you… everything about you is just so perfect, and for the life of me I can't figure out why you give me the time of day.”

“Because you make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.” Your voice shook as you spoke, you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears and you were nearly positive that III could hear it too.

“Because you are the only girl in the world for me.” He admits without a second thought. “I haven't been able to get last night out of my head. Of course I want to kiss you again, but this time I want to kiss you and mean it.” Trembling fingers rose to the edge of his mask, glancing up at him through your lashes asking for silent permission to raise his mask enough to kiss him. He nods, studying your nervous expression as you gently took the edge of the fabric and raised it to just below his nose. Your breath was snatched from your lungs as III crushed his lips against yours, your mind immediately swimming in the overwhelming sensation that was him. His lips subtly sweet as he eased your mouth open, his tongue carefully caressing yours, making sure to take things at a bear agonizing pace in order for you to be able to back away at any time. Your hands slid up his torso, III shivered under your delicate touch. You felt lightheaded as the kiss took over your senses; the euphoric feeling of his warm lips against yours, the deep, earthy smell of his cologne, his massive hand kneading at the softness of your hip. You both pulled away equally breathless, your hands coming up to his mask in order to readjust it into place before he had a chance to.

“I think you definitely meant it this time.” You giggle, your forehead falling to rest against his.

“There's going to be plenty more where that came from.” He winks playfully at you.

III decided to leave you for the night when you could barely keep your head up anymore. He scoops you up in his arms. You grumble in annoyance despite the fact you immediately begin to nuzzle your face against his chest. “Where are we going?” You ask through a yawn.

“I’m taking you to bed sweetheart, you need to rest.” He chuckles.

“-’m not tired.” You try to protest, your actions only make him laugh again before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Says the woman who can’t keep her eyes open.” You could hear his smile in his voice.

“I don’t want you to leave.” You admit softly.

“I know love, but you have a store to run, I’m afraid I’ve kept you up more than I already meant to.” He carefully maneuvers himself so he’s holding you in one arm, pulling back your blankets with his now free hand. He lays you gently into bed, his knuckles trailing across your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His head dips down, allowing you to share one more chaste kiss before he left you to fall into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, slow burn!

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii part iii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

next part

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

[opbackgrounds]

The Romanticism of One Piece III: Emotionality and the Absurd

AO3 Part I Part II Part IV

“Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings?” —Charlotte Brontë

After opening with Roger’s death in chapter one, the perspective of the manga immediately switches to focus on our main protagonist, whose first action we see is of him stabbing himself in the face in order to look cool. The introductory panel of Luffy is one of childish, absurd determination. His mouth alone takes up over half his face. It looks a bit silly, and after patching him up, Shanks just…laughs. 

The Romantics, on the whole, were not silly people, but they were bursting at the seams with emotion. If you read a Romantic novel expect the characters to spend a great deal of time soliloquizing about their feelings. If you look at a Romantic painting expect bold colors and dynamism composition. If you listen to a Romantic musician expect songs that are passionate and full of energy, unrestrained from traditional forms. In a word, these people were extra. Specifically, the Romantics embraced the full spectrum of human emotion, from the depths of despair in a work like the Sorrows of Young Werther to the heights depicted within the essays of the American transcendentalism movement. 

This heightened emotionalism of the Romantics always trumped over what was realistic or scientific. For example, look at a work like Jane Eyre. While melodramatic, it’s a work that ostensibly takes place in the real world. Yet the most emotionally-charged moments introduce supernatural elements, including reuniting the main couple at the end when Jane randomly hears Mr. Rochester speak her name on the wind from halfway across the country. 

And by random, I truly do mean random. It’s difficult to put into words how out of left field this is for the reader. There are only a few pages left in the book, and by this time the main couple has spent more time apart than together and had no reason to believe they’d ever be reunited. But their love becomes a literal supernatural force strong enough for Jane to rush after him without hesitation, and they live happily ever after. 

(Please, I beg of you to watch the last 10 minutes of this movie. It was one of the most unintentionally hilarious experiences of my life).

It’s an extreme and slightly goofy example, but what is One Piece if not extreme and slightly goofy? It’s a story that, at its most fundamental level, makes you feel. We all know the pain of crying over a boat, and what makes the death of the Merry, along with any other number of things that should be stupid but aren’t, is Oda’s commitment to sincerity. Emotional truth trumps logic, always. It’s why we celebrate characters like Bellmere who can’t not call herself a mother, even if it costs her her life. The bond of found family is more powerful than the logical choice of denouncing Nami and Nojiko. Oda had other characters try to inject logic into Bellmere’s decision after the fact, but there’s no evidence from Bellemere herself that she was behaving logically, and we love her for it.

The artstyle itself emphasizes emotional truth over realism. Oda is more than capable of drawing in a more realistic or traditionally “cool” style if he wanted to, but it would be to the detriment of the story he’s trying to tell. Every smile takes up half a character’s face. People who are crying are portrayed as sniveling wrecks. Their fury becomes palpable, their hopelessness gut-wrenching, their joy contagious. Oda chose very early on not to give Luffy thought bubbles, and in the absence of knowing what he’s thinking, it was absolutely imperative that the audience knew what he’s feeling. The few times his expression becomes ambiguous immediately stand out and lend a scene a sense of weight that borders on unease.

This expressiveness doesn’t stop with the character designs. Oda will tweak perspective to make important people or places seem even larger than they really are. Buildings will follow Loony Toons logic if a gag calls for it. Locations and ships, particularly once the crew reaches the Grand Line, become absurd and impossible. 

(Remember, Hancock and Mihawk are both only a little over six foot tall)

But for One Piece, it’s in this absurdity that the impossible becomes possible, through sheer force of will. Luffy is on every level ridiculous, but it’s because he’s ridiculous that he chooses at every turn to keep fighting against forces that by all rights should be impossible to defeat. Many of Luffy’s most despicable enemies are the ones who in some way or another have taken away other people’s ability to feel as they wish. Arlong took away Nami’s happiness and made her cry. Crocodile stole Vivi’s ability to smile. The zombies of Thriller Bark are reduced to mindless slaves while the toys under Doflamingo’s rule are physically unable to emote. And perhaps most powerfully of all, the people of Wano and the slaves of the Celestial Dragons are both forced to smile despite their horrific circumstances, a bastardization of the joy Luffy brings no matter where he goes. 

In his prelude to the Lyrical Ballads, William Wordsworth wrote that, “All good poetry is the overflow of powerful emotion”. He linked emotion to motion, or action, with the catalist between the two being the creative power of imagination. While many of Luffy’s fights are ultimately won because he’s able to punch another person real good, the seemingly limited ability of the gum-gum fruit forces him to come up with increasingly-creative ways in which one can stretch, until he’s able to stretch the fabric of reality itself to bend to his whims. It is said, in all the world, that there is no power more ridiculous.

At the end of chapter 218 a galleon falls from the sky, and Oda quotes fictional physicist Willy Karen, stating, “Anything man can imagine is a possibility in reality.” It is through the power of imagination and absurdity that Luffy fights against the forces of oppression. There is nothing more dangerous to an institution than losing its credibility, and nothing so dangerous to one’s credibility than the power of mockery. If one can face the darkest, most difficult times and still laugh then, well, they become a little less dark and difficult. By laughing, and helping others to do the same, it becomes easier to make it through another day. It’s important, I think, that Oda has emphasized the act of laughing so much, drawing attention to it by virtue of giving out unique laughs all throughout the series.

One Piece has the reputation of being "the silly pirate manga". This isn’t untrue, but it does a disservice to the breadth of feeling the series inspires. As I said, we’ve all cried over a boat. Slavery, oppression, and every sort of hardship exist within the One Piece world just as much as it does our own. 

Oda’s answer is to combat these things with the silly and the absurd, by being creative and imaginative while pursuing one’s passions with one’s whole heart, no matter where those passions may lead. He tells the reader you have the right to feel as you wish and pursue joy wherever you may. And when you run up against resistance, you fight like hell for what you believe in. 

And as it turns out, that’s a Romantic virtue, too.

[glassica]

Surprise boyfriend

Notes: M!yan x F!reader, non-con, sexual language, cursing, pregnancy trapping, blackmailing threats

"Hey Y/N, heard you go out with Ray right?"

You spat out the remaining cold brew. You? Go out with whom???

People must've assumed you were into him after seeing your exchanges at the party. But you swear that wasn't that serious at all! You were just fooling around to kill time!

- No. Who told you that?

- Ray posted about you all over his insta. Yeah right you don't use that app... But what do you mean you two aren't dating!?

You took one look at your friend's phone. Lo and behold, countless pictures of you and him holding hands and acting all lovey-dovey like a real couple. Your brain juggled through the hazy memories to see when the selfies were taken but oh dear, you were so drunk off the mind on that night to recall everything.

- Ray, excuse me. Do you have a moment?

- Sweetie I always have time for you. What do baby want from me now? ~

His cheesy line brought shattering earthquakes to your brain. God this man had zero shame, or you had been cursed to carry the embarrassment baggage on his behalf. "If we were alone I'd rip his ass off right instant." - you thought. "And I'll never have time for your goofy ass."

- I believe you misunderstood our relationship. I must've said something deceitful to you during at the party and I'll take responsibility for that. I don't plan to date you or anyone, Ray. I'm so sorry for misleading you.

You spoke in a remorseful tone. Though not able to recollect what nonsense the mouth had blabbered, you felt like owning him an apology regardless. Kids this was why you should never let peer pressure get to you and drink over limits, you never knew if one day you accidentally being entangled with some jackass.

Surprisingly Ray's expression didn't seem to fazed for a bit. On the contrary, the grin on his face got even more ominous and deranged, alerted your sixth sense that nothing coming out from this man was any good: It was a grave mistake involving him in your life.

"My baby wanna break up with me? Oh sweetheart how could you abandon me like that? Have you forgot your little promises to me about love and loyalty? Didn't you say I was your type, that your greatest wish was to be wrapped in my arms every night and showered your body with plenty of kisses?"

Freak. Weirdo. Creep.

How could anyone breath in the same direction of this guy and not get their skin crawled for a second? You were both amused and pissed off witnessing this whole circus show, wondering how out mind you were last Friday to be attracted to this walking joke of a man.

Get this over quickly, or you would end up committing some atrocities on that stupid face.

"I wasn't sober at the time. I must've been spewing rubbish. I'm really sorry for lying to you Ray, but can you please take down those pictures?"

"Why should I? I need to show off everyone my Sweetie's already taken, so that no one could touch you. Besides," - Ray tucked his head over your shoulder, the eerily off-putting grin grew even wider as he whispered softly to your ears, "those pics aren't the only proof of our unshakable bond."

He trailed off, calmly put a hand on your belly.

Your mind went blank.

"BITCH! YOU FUCKING RAPED ME!?"

"Now now. You hurt my heart, Sweetie. How could you accuse me of such heinous crime when all I did so much to give you such good time on bed? And don't lie, your pussy was cumming hard for my crotch. I still can recall those pretty little buds-"

Just then, Ray felt a burning heat on his left cheek. You were done. Completely dropped off manners. Eyes flaming with disgust and resentment while both hands clenching fist furiously, you became a wild animal determined to chew off its prey to the bone. You didn't care about anything else, any consequences after, your absolute goal at the moment was to tear this asshole to shreds.

But Ray was infuritatingly nonchalant, cocky even. He wasn't bothered for a bit when facing your wrath. Rubbing hand on the reddish cheek, he continued:

"Don't you believe you can brush your hand away from me, love. I don't like anyone seeing my angel in her purest form, but I have no problem releasing those clips."

A sadistic chuckle let out of his mouth observing the bloodthirst drained out from your face. If you didn't want him as your prince, then he wouldn't hesitate becoming the big bad villain tainting your life forever.

Ray caught your lifeless body in a loving embrace, just like that Friday night, and many more nights in the future.

[vigilskeep]

compelled by the Davrin/Sol/Lucanis dynamic you've been gesturing towards, would love to hear more on that relationship dynamic & how it officially came about

davrin is the ultimate fake idgafer whose correct enrichment is being so deeply long-suffering about whatever he loves in a way that makes it abundantly clear he cares so, so, so much all the time, just by the extent of what he is putting up with. if i want to maximise correct enrichment then giving him two idiot crow partners becomes not only possible but in fact inevitable

i’m hypothesising it as a gradual post-canon development. sol and lucanis are in love. sol and davrin are emotionally hitched together for life. god knows what the boys are doing but i’m pretty sure it’s flirting. these are the bare facts of the matter and at some point it is no longer in my hands whether or not they are also kissing. i didn’t choose this they’re just doing that

i like the idea of sweet and slow buildup that might be more awkward if they didn’t all know and like each other so much. sol and lucanis talk about it so they’re on the same page but theyre sort of fluttering about anxiously. davrin is a little bit uncertain about what the future of this whole thing would be, frankly not accustomed to expecting anything long term let alone with two people let alone these two people, but he is definitely aware of the effect he has and does let them suffer a little bit. Deserved. he should make them work for it actually. there is a lot of cooking happening (lucanis) and a lot of shiny gifts crow style (sol). as long as he doesn’t let them get too out of hand in their offers to kill for him i think he can sit back and enjoy this one for a minute. the others all catch him smiling about it though. NOT slick

i have a lot of stupid bits to do in this timeline. a favourite: sol and lucanis have had a shared room above the lighthouse dining room (affectionately nicknamed the crows’ nest) for ages, and one day the lighthouse decides to helpfully provide what its inhabitants want, as it always does, and moves the whole room above davrin’s. you’ve never been so uncertain how sol achieved anything against the evanuris until you’ve heard the desperation in their voice as they commit to saying, “it’s because we love. assan. so much. it’s probably reacting to how much closer we want to be to. you know. assan.” while lucanis chimes in with a “yes.” then reviews his contribution to sol’s efforts, decides this was inadequate, and adds, “exactly.”

we possibly need lucanis to get his head together and quit first talon before anything actually happens. davrin voice i’m not fixing that man he’ll fix himself if he knows what’s good for him. i have another take in my head lately about how that goes down so there is a sequence of events in my mind but you’ll have to give me a minute to flesh it out

[pinkaditty]

Holidays with Ghouls (Sho Haizono x Reader; Tokyo Debunker)

please read:

okay. big news + life update: i got into a major car accident a little while ago. my first one ever! i am in a lot of pain so things may be slow-going for a while and ill be unable to commit as much time to writing due to the tangled mess that is dealing with modern insurance companies and recovering from my injuries. thankfully its not so bad to be hospitalized, but its bad enough to limit my activity for the time being. i am somewhat ashamed to ask, but if you like my writing, please consider donating to my cashapp: $cindyfromstarbucks! my car was 100% totaled, and im gonna need to save up for a new one, and my job doesn’t pay very much. thank you for your consideration! please enjoy, regardless! (this paragraph will be on my posts indefinitely, probably until i fully recover)

a/n: LET ME START THIS OFF BY SAYING IT’S ENTIRELY SELF-INDULGENT… i have a green thumb and i’ve been growing a small garden lately (limited space. i hate captialism.) and i just thought “hm. what if we grew fresh ingredients for sho’s food truck?” and the idea stuck and didn’t leave no matter how much i tried 2 shake it off. mc is basically written as me im not gonna hold y’all, but i kept it 2 a minimum so it could still be an ‘x reader’. 

summary: self-indulgent reader x sho. in which you do something nice for him and he struggles to return the favor. 

no cw! enjoy!

big fan of the “woman that is so wound up all the time and extremely professional and tries to keep everyone at arm’s length distance” x “guy that is only a few years younger than the woman but loves calling her by age-appropriate honorifics (i.e. noona, ojou, jiejie, madame, etc) and goes out of his way to teach her how to fucking relax every once in a while” trope and essentially if i were with sho that is how the relationship would go LMFAOOOOOOO

You used to have a bit of a garden before becoming a student at Darkwick. A part of you often wondered if there were people tending to your garden now so you could return to it, well kept and exactly as you remember it, when you were cured of this curse and got this anomalous ring off of you. You'd never really had the idea to plant anything here; you were much too focused on missions and other incessant errands the ghouls saw fit to send you on. You didn't like it, but held your tongue regardless. If all went well, you wouldn't have to deal with this after less than a year. 

You were fond of a few ghouls, though. Some of them were a nice reprieve from the other harsher and more selfish ghouls. Haku was a great example of that, and so was Subaru, his dorm's captain. You'd grown fond on the Jabberwock ghouls, as they were always kind and polite. You didn't really mind the Obscuary ghouls, either. Even if odd, they were good natured, and never turned you away. You appreciated that Rui had a bit of a green thumb too, and would often stop by to assist him with plant care. 

The one ghoul you were the most fond of, despite his less than agreeable best friend, was Haizono, or Sho, as he insisted on being called. Sho, despite his friend Leo, was actually pretty friendly. You enjoyed the time you spent around him, whether that was collecting supplies from the diner, or training with him, or even helping him meal prep for the following day for his food truck. It was fun, spending time with Sho. You're almost angry the idea didn't dawn on you sooner.

Said idea is why you carefully sift through the dirt in your compost container, careful not to split any of the worms with your nails. The potatoes should be done growing by now. The idea had dawned on you one day when Sho mentioned not having enough potatoes to serve fries the following day. Potatoes were an easy crop. And they took three months, at most, to grow. Sure, if worse came to worst, you'd die, but growing potatoes was a good distraction and encouraged you to plan for the future, as though you wouldn't die. After a few favors from Benji and some begging towards the chancellor, you had a small garden behind the chapel. Granted, you'd just started it three months ago, so it wasn't as full as your garden back home, but it was good enough. It was hidden from the rest of campus by the surrounding trees, ensuring no one would find the garden unless they had reason to cut around the chapel, which wasn't necessary considering the path out front. Not only did it serve as your little place of respite, it allowed you to do nice things for others. You were just growing potatoes for now, but it felt like enough of a starter, at least. You’d just planted some tomato seeds that you’d hoped Sho would also find a use for. 

Once done harvesting a substantial batch of potatoes, you wrap them up in plastic bags to look like you bought them. It would save you the embarrassment of having to explain that you’d grown them yourself. 

It’s pleasantly chilly outside, the still afternoon air heavy with promises of cold weather and a white winter holiday. Dirt remained underneath your fingernails from all that harvesting, but it was a small price to pay. Your heart pounded with anticipation and exertion as you made the trek to Vagastrom, heading for the nearby food truck. As expected, you find Sho sitting on one of his supply boxes, far underdressed for the cold weather. You can’t tell if he’s resistant to it or rebelling against it, but you can tell he’s cold. His cheeks and nose are tinged red and his eyes are squinted against the cold wind. You can even tell he’s sniffling with how often he inhales. You exhale both fondly and exasperatedly. The stubbornness of these ghouls was simultaneously attractive and irritating. 

You make it no secret you’re approaching, the bag of potatoes crinkling with your upbeat steps and your own runny nose sniffling in response to the cold wind. You place the bag of potatoes beside him with a heavy ‘thud’, to which he finally looks up, appearing jolted out of his thoughts. 

“Here,” you start, taking your scarf from around your neck and tying it around his without waiting for a reaction. “You must be an idiot to sit out in the cold with just your uniform on.”

“Senpai.” He greets you with wide eyes, watching but not protesting as you tie your scarf around his neck. He appears confused at first, his lips pursing at your actions, but seems to relent as he buries his face into the scarf. You watch as he settles into it, his eyes sliding shut against the cold wind, his nose and lips finding warm solace in the comfort of your scarf. Before long, he pulls it away, revealing himself back to the chilly air with a slight wince. “...No need. Thank you, though.” He glances up at you with a smile before rising to his feet and dusting off his knees. “Whatcha got here?” He gestures to the plastic bag before picking it up, far more effortlessly than you, and inspecting it. 

“Potatoes.” Your breath puffs out in a white cloud. “They’re for your food truck. I remembered you mentioned you were running low, so… I decided to help and buy you some.” At some point, you’d shifted your attention to the ground, toeing at a rock as you realized how ridiculous that sounded. Surely Sho could handle himself. He might even find your help embarrassing, when you really think about it. 

You sneak a glance at him and are relieved to see a small smile on his face as he observes the potatoes. He huffs out a light breath, his face visibly softening. “You didn’t have to do that.” He slings the bag over his shoulder, using his other hand to ruffle your hair and return the scarf. “Come on,” he turns around, headed for the door of the food truck. “You can help me prep.”

‘That’s only helpful if you’ll have any customers in this cold,’ you think to yourself, but decide not to say aloud. Instead, you watch the slow smile on his face as he nods towards you, and continues towards the truck. Crazy, how a simple glance of his could make your heart race. Something about the warmth of his smile, the feel of his fingers carding through your hair, and the leftover scent of his cologne lingering on your scarf tugged at your heart, just a little bit. 

You briskly follow after him, throwing the scarf back over his neck. “Keep it,” you say sternly, watching as he turns to you quizzically. “Have you seen the state of yourself in this cold?” The phrase ‘I want you to have it,’ lingers on your tongue, but you decide not to voice that, instead letting a small amused smile rest on your face. You vaguely gesture to him, your gaze flicking to his red cheeks and nose. He rolls his eyes, noting your point, and keeps the scarf around his neck, opening the side door to his food truck.

“Alright, fine. I’ll wash it and return it.”

As he steps inside the food truck, even from standing behind him you feel a wave of warmth. You follow, stepping inside, feeling the sweet relief of pleasant warm air and smelling the scent of roast chicken. The environment is warm and cozy, wrapping around you like a cushy blanket or a hug from a loved one. Sho closes the door behind you and you note your scarf is still around his neck. Something clicks.

“Wait a minute. You won’t need that.” You point to his scarf, your nose crinkling in mock displeasure. He instinctively flinches away, looking at you with a raised brow. He was seemingly already protective of your scarf, even though he’d only just received it. “Hand it over.”

“That’s hardly fair.” A crooked smile forms on Sho’s face and his brow raises higher. “Why do you assume I won’t need it?”

Indignantly, you gesture to the warm space surrounding you. Sizzling meat, a warm oven, and heaters in a corner, adjusting the temperature of the truck. “Vagastrom is literally right next to here. What do you need that for?”

He doesn’t answer directly, instead tilting his head at you. “I seem to remember a certain someone insisting I keep this scarf. Are you going to go back on your word?”

You clamp your mouth shut, remembering what you’d said and did earlier. He was right, you had insisted, even if only a little. You huff out a frustrated breath, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows. He laughs at your display, pulling the scarf off of him and tossing it on a high shelf of boxes you couldn’t reach. “Like I said, I’ll wash it and return it.”

You decide to swallow this loss. You had other scarves at the chapel anyway, and if he was going to use it, at least it wasn’t going to waste. 

You look around the space again before taking off your coat and hanging it on one of the hooks on the door. “Any plans for winter break? Will you be going anywhere?” 

“Nah.” Sho shook his head, checking on the chicken in the small oven before continuing to stir fry a vegetable medley on the stove, jutting his shoulder out towards the cutting board, covered in various vegetables. You wash your hands before heading over, carefully scraping at the dirt built up under your fingernails from digging. “Unless my… brother… goes, I’m not going. He’ll beat my ass if I don’t and he does.” A look of displeasure crosses Sho’s face, and you have to hold back a laugh at the thought of Professor Hyde chastising Sho for not seeing his family over break. 

You head over to the vegetables laid out on the cutting board, and start with the garlic, peeling it out of its husk. “Sounds like a struggle.”

He scoffs, pouring soy sauce over the vegetables and tossing them before scraping them off on a nearby to-go container. “Holidays are always a struggle with pushy family.” Despite his outward scowl, amusement lights up his eyes for a moment. 

You chuckle, having finished chopping up the garlic and moving to a green bell pepper. You slice it open, its seeds spilling onto the cutting board. “Your family’s pushy?”

“Yes, too pushy sometimes.” Sho shakes his head, shooing you to the side as he grabs potholders to pull the chicken out of the oven. “My brother’s more like my parents than I am.” He carefully places the roast chicken down on a short counter. It’s golden brown, stuffed with rosemary sprigs, lemon slices, and garlic cloves. 

He places it to the side, readying the frying pain and reaching for the peppers you’d chopped, tossing them into the oil. You finish a pepper and reach for a leek next, slicing it into thick chunks. Your eyes flicker back over to the chicken momentarily, rosemary stems sticking out of it like a tail. “The rosemary stems look like a chicken tail.” You voice the thought absentmindedly, smiling to yourself. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sho glance over at the chicken himself. You hear a huffed laugh as he returns his attention to the peppers, sizzling in the oil. “Yeah, it does.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “Speaking of, it was hard to find fresh rosemary this time around.”

You look up, having finished cutting the leek. A confused expression crosses your face. “Where in the world would you find fresh rosemary in the dead of winter?” You look away, reaching for a carrot, slicing it thinly.

“Rosemary’s an evergreen,” Sho states flatly, reaching for the leek and garlic you cut earlier, mixing it in with the batch of peppers on the stove and stirring them. “You can find that fresh anytime. What’s harder to find, however…” Sho trails off, leaving the stove for a split second, reaching for the bag of your potatoes he’d placed on the ground earlier. He opens the bag and pulls one out, some dirt still stuck in the indents of its skin. “...Is fresh potatoes. They’re typically harvested in the fall.” He smiles at you, before turning away to rinse it off.

Realizing you’d been caught in a lie, you turn away from him, putting all of your focus on the carrot in front of you. You hear his footsteps slowly approaching before he places a freshly washed potato right in front of you, his hand shaking with mirth. 

“Come on, MC. Don’t think I didn’t notice the dirt under your fingernails.” He chuckles before turning back to the stove, stirring the vegetables again. You drop the knife with a clatter and hide your hands behind your back, too nervous to check if you’d missed any spots. 

You sneak a glance up at him, mistakenly making eye contact with him. His eyes gleam with amusement and his smile is soft and fond. “...It can’t have been that obvious.” You decide to admit to it, realizing the heat in your cheeks probably gave it away. 

“It wasn’t.” Sho nods to you, pouring soy sauce over the stir-fried mixture and tossing it before scraping that off in a different to-go container. “I just happened to notice the dirt when you handed the scarf to me, and your potatoes smelled extra earthy.” He takes the pan off the heat, moving over to the chicken and carefully cutting out the breast. 

It’s silent for a few moments, you staring at that freshly cleaned potato and Sho slicing through the chicken, placing the breast in one to-go container and the wings in the other. Sho finally speaks up, though his voice is low. “...You didn’t have to do that, you know.” You look up again, just to find him turned away from you, his ears turning red. Silence falls again as you watch him check off the to-go containers he’s finished. You assume he’s trying to distract himself from the obvious blush on his face, but you can’t say for sure. Something about it makes you feel similar, your heart rate picking up and your face reddening more. It wasn’t due to your embarrassment anymore. “I dunno, I’m bad at thanking people. Just, well…” Sho trails off, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, hiding his face from you. His voice lowers significantly, and contrastingly, the blush on his ears brightens more. “Thank you. I know potatoes take a while to grow. And…” He trails off again and swallows thickly. You don’t bother asking him to finish his sentence. The implications of his words grow somewhat heavy in your heart, and you wring your fingers nervously. Of course it was profound, growing potatoes for someone when you’re doomed to die, now in nine months. The thought of dedicating your time to anything that wasn’t curing your curse was odd, but this distraction had done you well nonetheless. You didn’t want Sho to feel bad about it at all. You were certain that, if anything, the gravity of being recognized by a girl doomed to die was dawning on him. 

The words spill out before you can really stop them. “Don’t worry about it, Sho. I did that because I wanted to.” Confessing this was almost as raw as confessing your feelings, and your chest tightens at that thought, but you continue despite that. “You’ve been kind to me since after our first mission. And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, including things as mundane as meal prep!” You gesture vaguely to the setting before you, hoping to get your point across. “I just randomly had the idea, and figured it couldn’t be so bad to act on it. It’s been a good distraction anyway, and what with all that happens here, a distraction does me some good.” Silence falls once more, and Sho finally turns to look at you, face flushed. He wipes his palms on his apron and worries his lip between his teeth, his gaze flickering between you and the floor. “...So what if I used up three months to grow potatoes? The time will pass anyways.” You turn away from him, looking at the washed potato. You reach for it and pick up the knife, beginning to cut it into cube chunks. 

“...I guess you’re right.” You can hear a gentle smile in Sho’s voice, and it warms you up internally, feeling thankful he’s accepted the gift. You glance towards him, giving him a smile, and catch him staring. There’s an odd glimpse of admiration in his eyes, which makes your cheeks warm.

“Go on and finish cutting the chicken.” You wave off his stare and jerk your gaze away from him, hiding your blush and focusing on the cubed potato. 

He scoffs and turns away, picking up his knife. “Giving me orders in my own kitchen, huh?” 

You don’t respond. You don’t need to. The warmth of the heaters settles into your skin and the warmth of the previous pleasant conversation settles into your heart. You glance down at the bag of potatoes that started it all. The eyes of the potatoes seem to stare up at you knowingly.

You’re carrying a short stack of to-go containers outside to Sho’s bike, Bonnie, your boots crunching the frosty path beneath you. Snow would surely be coming soon. You gently place the stack in the box on the back of Bonnie, careful to make sure none of them tip over. You hear more crunching footsteps and turn around to see Sho, carrying the rest of the boxes. He places them in the box as well and organizes them before securing the box with a few straps. He steps back and exhales, smiling to himself. You can’t help but smile at his pride.

“Now, to deliver these…” Sho approaches Bonnie and gets on, patting her twice affectionately. The gentle thrum of the engine comes to life in response. He looks to you and smiles, and you notice he’s wearing your scarf. “Sure you don’t want a ride back to the chapel?”

You eye the box of food already on the back of Bonnie and shake your head. You wouldn’t test fate today. Your eyes find your scarf again, sitting snugly around Sho’s neck. “Well, at least you have a use for it.” You say, resigned. Part of you wonders if you’ll ever get it back. 

Sho smiles, reaching up to touch the scarf. “Again, I’ll wash and return it.” He looks up to the sky, and you follow suit, noting the pale white blanket of clouds blocking the sun. “That said…” He starts, lowering his gaze to you again. “It is cold out. I may need this for longer than I expected.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice and his smile turns crooked, as though suppressing a smirk. 

“...I’m not getting that back, am I?”

Sho shrugs, revving up Bonnie. “Who knows?” He smiles fondly at you one last time before speeding off, the wheels of Bonnie leaving tire tracks on the frosty path. You watch him as he leaves, his hair lifting in the wind, the tendrils of your scarf billowing behind him. You watch until he turns a corner and you can only faintly hear the rumbling of Bonnie’s engine. ‘I guess he really did have customers, even in this cold…’ You think to yourself, a faint smile growing on your face. You inhale the crisp cool air, feeling a bit cooler around your neck now that you’re missing a scarf. You idly look back up at the sky again, wondering if it really would snow today. Despite you enjoying the stillness of the winter air on Darkwick campus, the cold eventually bites at you, urging you to return to the chapel. Your footsteps crunch along the frosted path, following Bonnie’s tracks.

It’s Christmas evening, and things are finally winding down for the day. You’d been to Frostheim and made snow angels with Luca and Kaito, had coffee and played chess with Tohma, and Jin, despite himself, hadn’t asked you to run any errands for him today. You’d been to Vagastrom and exchanged gifts with Alan, tolerated Leo’s selfies with you, and looked around for Sho, but hadn’t found him. You’d been to Jabberwock and fed the animals with Haru, watched a romance movie with Towa, and played a holiday-themed horror game with Ren. You’d been to Sinostra and done some gambling with Taiga while Ritsu tagged along to ensure Sinostra’s reputation wasn’t damaged further, and had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Romeo despite him saying your large coat made you resemble a slug. You’d been to Hotarubi and had tea and holiday sweets with Haku, Subaru, Zenji, and Lyca, who was visiting Subaru. You’d been to Obscuary and had Rui’s new holiday-themed drinks with Ed, chattering time away at the bar. You’d been to Mortkranken and reluctantly exchanged gifts with Yuri, aware of the fit he’d throw if you hadn’t gotten him anything, and pleasantly exchanged gifts with Jiro, reminding him to take good care of himself. 

Finally, after a very long, exhausting, and eventful day, you were back at the chapel, counting the vines growing under your skin, glowing lavender like the flower on the back of your neck. Some small flowers broke your skin and bloomed here and there, leaving the exit wounds somewhat inflamed. Granted, you didn’t have much time left, and these vines made that clear, but this holiday had been much better than you’d expected it to be. You appreciated the effort most of the ghouls put forth to make this holiday at least somewhat enjoyable for you, especially considering it may be your last. 

You sit by the fireplace in your room, watching the snow fall from the sky through your window. You had a tiny pine tree near your bed, decorated with handmade tinsel from the three Hotarubi ghouls and some small ornaments from Jin. You wore new pajamas from Romeo, though you weren’t sure how in the world he knew your size. You had a new bracelet from Taiga, who had originally forgotten who he’d gotten it for. On your nightstand lay a dreidel from Kaito and a snow globe from Luca. The hot chocolate you sipped on was a gift from Tohma, and some wine awaited you in your fridge, a gift from the Obscuary ghouls. You had a few new ugly holiday sweaters from various ghouls, Yuri and Ren included, and some not-so-ugly ones, thanks to Haru and Towa. A thick, heavy book about the origins of the laws of Japan sat on a nearby table, a gift from Ritsu that you had no plans to read. You had lit a scented candle from Leo, which you thought was surprisingly thoughtful, and had set aside the wax melts from Alan, planning to use them after the candle ran out. The new watch from Jiro was wrapped around your wrist, displaying the increasingly late time. In all of this, you wondered where your gift from Sho was. You hadn’t been able to spot him today, and the thought made you feel a little down. You’d wanted to spend some time with him today, but guessed he was probably too busy preparing Christmas dinner for all of Vagastrom and Hotarubi that he simply hadn’t had the time. You set your hot chocolate down on top of the accursed thick book and sprawl out in your chair, turning to the window again. Regardless, this had been a surprisingly wonderful holiday. The ghouls had given you gifts and willingly spent time with you, doing various fun activities and filling you with holiday cheer. It was a nice escape from the reality of your situation, even if it was only for a little while. 

You check the vines under your skin again, resisting the urge to scratch at where a new white flower had bloomed near your elbow. You could feel that, soon after the holiday season mellowed down, it would be back to reality, and you’d have to face your own death once again. Part of you dreaded the eventual change in weather and in the length of days, knowing your predicted end was growing near. But a part of you was also resigned to it. Regardless of whether you were due to die soon or not, this had been a nice holiday. And you could stand to live in the now, just this once. 

You carefully pluck the flower from your skin, wincing at the sharp pain. You bleed for only a few moments before it clots up. At least you could stave off the growth of the curse for now. 

You hear a gentle knock at your door. Physically, you’re too exhausted to have much more fun at this point, but mentally, you could use a pick-me-up. You head down your stairs towards the door, opening it crack by crack, trying to prevent too much of the cold wind from slipping inside. You peer through the open doorway, jolting in surprise when a familiar pair of dark blue eyes meet yours. 

“Hey,” Sho starts, lifting two boxes in his hands. “Thought you could use a warm holiday dinner.”

Your heart swells and all at once, a wave of emotion hits you. Sure, you didn’t have much time left, but that didn’t stop these ghouls from caring, and that was evident in the gifts piled up in your room, the fun you’d had all throughout the day, and the ghoul now standing at your doorstep, seeking more time with you. There was a reason he was your favorite. 

You swing the door open wider, unable to hide the smile that breaks across your face all at once. “I was looking for you, you know.” You cross your arms and narrow your eyes in mock disappointment. “Where’ve you been all day?”

“Cooking.” Sho lifts a brow and shrugs, tilting his head at you. He smiles fondly at you, and you notice he’s finally dressed appropriately for the season; a hat covering most of his hair, a matching coat and gloves keeping him warm, and your scarf, tucked snugly against his neck inside his coat. Yet again, you realize you are probably never getting that scarf back. 

“That scarf is still mine.” You gesture at his scarf, and he laughs, reaching up to brush the built up snow off of it. 

“And I’m still using it.” He replies, smiling wider. “So… Gonna let me in or what? It’s cold out here.” His breath puffs into white clouds, and you notice his cheeks and nose are tinged red again thanks to the cold. You smile and step aside, letting him in. 

You close the door behind him and he shakes off the snow built up on his coat. When he looks at you, his smile holds the warmth of a thousand candles and his voice holds the joy of a thousand holiday carols. “So… got any mistletoe? If not, we can start with gifts. Either works for me.” A blush covers his face as he pushes the boxes towards you, his smile growing wider and fonder.

You figure, regardless of how much time you have left, it wouldn’t hurt to spend a holiday with your favorite ghoul.

Bonus:

The gift, wrapped surprisingly delicately inside one of the boxes, is a knitted scarf in your favorite colors. It’s not bad, but you can tell it was done by a beginner. Holding it in your hands, a small smile grows on your face, and you sigh, totally resigned. 

By god, you are never getting that scarf back. 

“Well, thank you for your collateral replacement, but I expect that scarf back one day.”

Sho shakes his head, smiling as he chews on your shared meal, packed in the other box he was carrying. “No can do. It’s still cold and I still need a scarf.”

“I’m withholding the mistletoe, then.”

Sho huffs, rolling his eyes and continuing the meal. At his lack of a reaction, you purse your lips, thinking of another thing to withhold that might gift you a victory. Sho speaks, having swallowed his mouthful, “I can find other reasons to kiss you-”

“I’m withholding the potatoes.”

Sho looks at you in shock, dropping his forkful back onto his plate. “...I’ll think about it.”

Maybe you would get that scarf back, after all.

----------

a/n: it's done. finally it is done. finally! i've been writing this romance fic 4 a long while so im glad it is finally done

thank you all so much for reading!! as usual, i love likes, but especially comments, reblogs, and asks detailing how much you enjoyed my work!!! please feel free 2 fill up my inbox with whatever, i love talking 2 u all! but be warned my responses will be slow... im still recovering!

happy holidays 2 you all! i hope, whether you're surrounded by family, friends, or by yourself, that it's a wonderful and fulfilling holiday season 4 u. merry christmas 2 those who celebrate, and happy kwanzaa 2 those who celebrate that as well!! not very well versed in other winter holidays, but may they be joyous and merry!

[veryintricaterituals]

We need to talk about queer representation in What We Do In The Shadows

I'm just going to say it: for a show that claims to have great queer representation I sure haven't seen a gay couple in five seasons.

(The closest they've come is with Freddy and we all saw how that turned out)

Okay, I've been thinking about this for a while and I honestly don't love the discourse but fuck it. We need to talk about queer love and queer representation on wwdits and how it's not great.

Let me begin by saying that I love this show, I do, it's my favorite and I adore it and I am not going to stop watching it. But the internet holding it it as the be all, end all of queer representation needs to stop. We need to take off our heartshapped glasses for a second and think critically.

Now I'm not saying it's homophobic because it's clearly not, but a beacon of queer representation and love it is not.

Yes, it has its moments and when they come they are incredible (Guillermo's coming out episode my beloved). But if we stop and think about it for a second it becomes clear that same sex love in the show it's not treated with the same respect that straight love gets. And it's time to aknowledge that as a fandom.

It's 2023 and we don't need to be living off scraps or jokes made at our expense anymore. The times of Supernatural or Sherlock are done. But in wwdits we are, a lot of the time, the butt of the joke and not always in a good way. I'm begging you to think for a second about why the jokes are supposed to be funny, think of Laszlo and Nandor, or Laszlo and the Baron, or Nandor's guy wives... the joke IS that it's gay, there's nothing else.

And you know what? That could be FINE or it would be if they commited and treated gay love with a little bit of respect but they don't, not really. Show me queer love, stop just talking about it and SHOW it.

Or at the very least when you do show some semblance of it (looking at the season five finale, season three finale and a lot of other moments) don't immediately undermine it with articles about the power of friendship, it's the least you can do. We are just asking to be more than a joke.

It's like a reverse of what happened in Supernatural where after so many homophobic jokes it just turned kind of gay, it feels like after so many gay jokes with zero commitment behind them wwdits is starting to feel kind of hurtful.

I'm not saying they should have Nandor and Guillermo get together (though they should), I'm saying that after five seasons we should at the very least have seen a couple of the same sex treated with the same respect and love they've shown Laszlo and Nadja, Sean and Charmaine, or hell even Colin and Evie.

All I'm asking is for the show to make us more than just a joke or they're just going to end up circlying around and not looking great, and after five seasons it's starting to happen and I'm worried it's going to leave me with a bitter taste in my mouth by the end.

[rayroseu]

Rambles about Book 7 lol

AAAAAAAÀAAA 😭😭😭 THIS IS SO AUGHHH THE MEANING BEHIND THIS INFO !!!!!! knowing that the first thought of Lilia in encountering Silver was that he should kill him to avenge Meleanor and Levan and that his purpose of adopting him is that he wants to believe he can love a human as well AND LILIA TEACHING THIS HUMAN BABY HOW TO LIVE DESPITE THE MANY CHANCES HE GOT TO GET RID OF HIM AUGJAURIWUTJW AND MAY I SAY LILIA WENT FROM DISTANTLY BEING ATTACHED TO THIS BABY AND THEN TRANSITIONING UNTO WANTING FOR HIM TO LIVE AND WITNESS HIM GROW UP AAAAAAA😭😭✨✨✨

IF I CRYYYY MELEANOR HAUNTS THE NARRATIVE 😭💞💕💞✨

LMAO not the faes snitching this info to malleus ofmg 😭✨

lowkey this is me as well i think babies are kinda ugly too KDHJAEJ especially when they cry 💀🔥🔥

YOU CALL THIS ADORABLE HELPPPP 🤣🤣🤣okay but in all seriousness, we rarely get this easy sarcastic Malleus, he's always too formal around NRC and often his humor lands amiss to other charas which doesnt prompt him to present this trait, but its so sweet that he seemed to be "truly himself" in the cottage scenes where its just him Lilia and Silver🥺✨ his voice doesnt feel "authoritative" too like a dorm leader, its just malleus and his difficulty in getting along with the random baby lilia caught lol

I remember this line was translated as a flower nectar?? but they kinda saying the same and i like this paraphrase that Lilia thinks of Milk as nectar for baby humans, like how Malleus often relates tech to some magical ritual lol

crying at this line, knowing that Malleus says this because he has broken several many things bcs he couldnt control his strength and perhaps there were things that Lilia owns that he accidentally destroyed as well so he tries to mend this uncontrollable strength of his in order to not be an inconvenience😭✨

NURSEMAID???? YEAH NURSEMAID CALLED LILIA VANROUGE 😭😭💔💔💔 and AAAAA not once did Malleus search for this tune??? not even sing it to Maleficia and Lilia so as to inquire about it 😭✨💔💔 this is when you know this lullaby IS truly MELEANOR'S LULLABY because everyone of the characters only heard it from her !!!😭😭😭💔💔

I love this response from Malleus lol, also i feel like some situation will challenge Lilia's love for humans again, like can you still love humans if they commit the same crime again to Malleus as they did with Meleanor?? Twisting their personality and actions so as to validate their fear?? Can you still say that faes should make an effort to make peace with them when repeatedly it was the humans who wasnt willing to udnerstand faes to begin with ? 😭✨ its a realistic worry fitting for a king that'll rule for centuries, maybe bcs he has this instinct that humans are epehemeral and so are their promises.

Thinking about it a bit more, its true that what Levan does is futile effort because the issue between humans and faes, Briarland and Silver Owls is too much that it cant be resolved by just understanding each other.

Levan wants the war to stop but obviously that can't happen because the bigger factions of each natioj are resolute at their stance that Briarland is owned by faes or humans, no in between. He can't immediately fix the mentality of higher faes and Meleanor with their hatred of humans and vice versa with the human officials like Henric,

but what he can do to decrease the casualties of this conflict is to pave way for the COMMON folk to understand each other, if he can make way for the common fae and the common human to talk to each other, then it might decrease the misunderstanding between the common fae and common human (assuming that both parties arw willing to be understanding)

its really a long shot and a gamble to aspire for considering his country's situation, and its effects would take a while to impact and honestly it took so much important people and years just to have his dream of peace, i wish we could get an input about what he feels about this

considering his kindness he might be happy, but im kinda sad its really tragic the implication of how the faes had to earn their peace and atone for a conflict that they didnt even start with,

based on Lilia, it took 400 YEARS just for the humans to sign a peace treaty, maybe in the eyes of the faes, thats just a piece of paper, so they waited and grieved the lost of their Princess Meleanor and many of their fae soldiers and Prince Levan and ALMOST the entirety of their continent, just for these humans to sign an 400 year long overdued peace treaty?? so the faes that died couldve been saved if these humans could spare some compassion and ink to sign a treaty-- It kinda feels like they're insulting their grief (in the faes point of view atleast), whats the purpose of having this paper peace treaty when they have lost so much already?? I WISHHH the story could delve more into the grief of faes,

kinda lowkey mad they just swept Lilia's grief by the humans just cuz he encountered a few good ones, i wouldve love to see him being vengeful then learning how to convert that grief to love again just like Maleficent in the live action, bcs it would be very meaningful on this way, Lilia can truly say he has learned how to love because he experienced real deep hatred---but AAA its whatever this storyline is good as well, just kinda feels general lilia's belief converted to present!lilia a bit too fast to my liking lol

its really intriguing how before book 7 the faes dislike of humans seems so dramatic but now after book 7 it all makes too much sense 😭✨

(can you guys tell i play too much reverse 1999 bcs i ramble too much about morals and politics between different races now JHDJWHRJW)

[heliza24]

So I think we should talk about the Holocaust imagery in the trial

Because it was really powerful, and part of what made the episode so impactful. It’s no accident that the writers set this part of the story in a city still scarred by WWII. The vampire trial is a twisted funhouse mirror of the actual atrocities of the war, and thinking of it that way helps illuminate its cruelty. It also helps name the specific undercurrents of that cruelty– the ableism, the racism, and the way in which the coven vampires view themselves as superior.

The whole idea of the trial as a play, where Claudia, Madeleine, and Louis are merely props, made me think of the plays that were put on at the Buchenwald concentration camp. The prisoners there were forced to produce theatre as a way to convince the outside world that the Nazis were treating people “humanely”. This farce of course gave the Nazis cover to continue committing horrible acts. The coven is forcing Claudia, Madeleine, and Louis to put on their play, and they’re doing it in a way that will allow the human audience to excuse the prisoners’ suffering as fake. And that gives the coven the freedom to enact as much cruelty on their prisoners as they would like. And of course being forced to perform, being embarrassed, is also a part of the punishment.

The way that Louis, Claudia and Madeleine were snatched out of what they believed to be a happy and peaceful life and transported straight into a nightmare also makes me think about Kristallnacht in some ways. I am half Jewish, and the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors. My grandmother was arrested during Kristallnacht. So I have a lot of personal family history that colors the way that I view this part of the show.

I’m also disabled, and I’ve already written a bit about how this show approaches eugenics. I was actually really happy to see the eugenics undertones made explicit during the trial, as it left no room for doubt about the connection between the great vampire laws and Nazi eugenics rhetoric. “The Dark gifts must never be given to the crippled, the maimed, or to children” was displayed prominently as part of the projections. Claudia has always been coded as disabled because her body is “wrong” and “weak” (written about so well in this meta by @once-delight) but her status as a disabled person was stated plainly as part of the text in this episode, both when Lestat says he “told Louis. Fourteen forever. She’ll be a cripple” and when Santiago says that “Claudia’s defect caught up with her” when she started committing her killing spree in New Orleans. It cannot be understated how much Claudia’s status as disabled person influences the coven’s desire to murder her. The fact that she is happy, strong, and loved despite being turned so young is a direct violation of the coven’s world view, and is therefore a challenge that needs to be put down. Around 250,000 disabled people were killed during the Holocaust, and that’s not to mention the forced sterilization done to disabled people and the cruel experiments that were done in concentration camps to prisoners without their consent. Crucially, the idea of eliminating disabled people and perfecting a humanity without “defects” was an essential part of the Nazi philosophy. And I think you can see that echoing through the vampire trial as well.

Obviously another way that the Nazis were trying to create a perfect humanity was through the elimination of anyone who was not the correct race. We don’t have any canon Jewish characters in IwtV, so we don’t have a one to one comparison to history in that way. But race absolutely plays a huge role in the trial. It does not feel accidental that two of the three prisoners are Black, and that the “star witness” (however coerced Lestat may be, the adoration that the coven shows him is real) is blond and blue eyed. The way Santiago describes Lestat, as having “ancient blood in his veins” and a “godlike strength” calls to mind the Nazi belief in perfecting bloodlines and creating an Übermensch- the perfect Aryan man. And although Madeleine is still executed, she is treated more gently by the coven, kept in a fog of hypnosis and given the opportunity to escape death. I can’t help but think that she was given those privileges at least in part because she is white. This also puts Armand in an interesting position, and maybe helps explain at least some of his motivation in collaborating with the coven. He’s not Black, but he is a person of color, and that may add some legitimacy to his fears that the coven may turn on him. (There’s also the interesting fact that earlier on in the show, Nicki calls him a slur used against Romani people. Armand is not Romani, he left India long after the Romani people migrated to Europe. But it’s interesting that in seeking to place his brownness, native Europeans default to describing him as Romani, since the Romani were also one of the main targets of the Nazis). Obviously there is a lot of hidden calculus going into Armand’s decisions here. But I do think it’s interesting to add race to that equation. I do hope fans of color will write more about the racial dynamics of the trial, since I am white and would love to learn more about this aspect of the story from them.

I’m still mulling over what I think about the part of the episode where Lestat embarrasses the homophobic heckler in the crowd, but it did serve to remind us of how marginalized all of the main relationships would have been at the time (queer people: another target of the Nazis) and how fresh the horrors of WWII are on everyone’s minds.

The absolute highlight of the episode for me was Madeleine’s decision to choose dying with Claudia over living without her. This is such an incredible conclusion for a character who began her arc as something of a Nazi collaborator. I know some fans were troubled by this aspect of Madeleine’s character, but it never bothered me, even with my own personal connection to the Holocaust. Madeleine’s will to survive, her outcast status, and her willingness to cling on to love, even if it isn’t morally pure, made her the perfect match for Claudia. And this episode showed us the payoff of that setup. Here she is given the chance to collaborate again, to move towards the acceptance and love of horrible people that will allow her to survive. But now that she’s tasted real love with Claudia, she can’t go back to that way of living. She can’t throw her lot in with the Nazis again. So she puts Claudia first, the first and only person to ever do that. Everytime I think about it I start crying again.

Ultimately it was the last image of the episode that really hammered home the Holocaust parallels for me. Claudia, reduced to ash. Claudia, reduced to her yellow dress. Just like the incinerated victims of the Holocaust. Just like the piles of shoes and other personal effects at the Holocaust museum. We don’t get Claudia’s final words to Madeleine, or the final words of thousands of real life victims. We just get the dress, we just get the shoes. We have Anne Frank’s diaries, just like we have Claudia’s. Two girls that will forever be trapped in teenagerhood. But those diaries end before the camps, just like Claudia’s end before the trial. 

I’m not sure if either of the writers of this episode are Jewish, but from the behind the scenes clips I know that Hannah Moskovitch was on set as they were filming this episode in a producer role. She talks a lot about giving Claudia a chance to be defiant and angry, and as @bluedalahorse pointed out to me, that’s a very Jewish way to respond to oppression and tragedy (Hannah is half Jewish just like me). Claudia does not go gently into that good night, and I’m really grateful for that. As we go forward I’m going to try to remember her fight, and not the final image of the ash and the dress, as I think about her.

[connieisthesun]

Kisses around Curves (Conrad Fisher x y/n)

Summary - You and Conrad have been in a committed relationship for a while but you're ready to take it to the next level and to live out the true meaning of infinity.

Warnings - Smut, protected sex, oral female receiving, sweet talk, lose of virginity, jealousy, heavy make out: Minors Do Not Interact.

*Authors note* - This is my first time writing smut so excuse me if its a bit vanilla lol but apart from that enjoy and leave any requests for future fics. :)

Tag list - @conradfisherswifesstuff @cheezbot @grxnde-dwt @itsshayfr @lanivoid @calpurnia2002

Comment or heart to be added.

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Infinity was always a recurring motif in yours and Conrad's ever so sweet relationship, no matter the tides and the trues you both battled forward with incessant love for each other. You are unbreakable, untouchable with the bond you possess spanning across distance and lifetimes and yet after a long time you urge to feel the intimate touch of his veiny fingers and his exasperating breath on yours. You wanted him to kiss your curves like he promised to do to the nature of your relationship; infinite.

You sat there in your deserted dormitory with Conrad his eyes ever so sincere and genuine piercing his soul and making you melt. As the holidays were looming your roommate had already left and what better Christmas present than the burning desire of Him. He beckoned you to sit on the half made bed next to him (you couldn't fold a fitted sheet if your life depended on it).

"Y/n, did I ever tell you how lucky I am to have you. You paint my darkest sky the brightest blue and I want you to know that I have never loved and cherished a person let alone a girl as beautiful and intellectual as you. I don't know what I did to deserve you but all I can say is that you deserve anything the world can offer, my love"

Touched by his sentiments, you peck his lips ever so slightly tracing your aching mark on him.

"Connie, I have never loved anyone longer and truer than you. It's just that I get slightly envious of other girls, they're so much prettier that I can't seem to think why you even want me."

"I don't just want you I need you, to breathe, to survive, you've helped my overcome so many of my personal battles and needless to say you always look smoking and gorgeous all the time. I have eyes for no-one else but you y/n/n " He said offering a sly smirk.

"What am I saying, I know you can't resist me Fisher!" You teased back. Underneath his smile, still lay the sweet young boy you once met at a cafe, whom memorised your order after 2 seconds of meeting you, you reminisced.

"May I." He winked and seductively whispered.

"Yes of course." You replied before his lips slowly pressed against yours and a feeling of impenetrable warmth overcame your body. You tugged on his hair softly as he gripped your waist with care, your hands serving as a mere barrier from the actions you were about to commit. You parted your mouth before he slid his tongue into yours, dancing to the beat of your longing. You bit on his lip with care and an unholy groan escaped his mouth that you could feel your insides pooling. With his hand massaging your neck and reaching a stray hair across your forehead.

"We should stop" Conrad spoke reluctantly.

"Don't stop Con, as you said I need you and I need you tonight*." You breathed.

"I don't want to pressure you into this, we can take it slow." He replied with utter softness.

"Please continue" You beckoned again as your lips collided like smashing waves. This time the kiss was more passionate and slow as you could feel his tongue trace a heart in your mouth. His hands slowly reached for your top as he began to tug on it with ease, you forgot that Conrad was millenium times more experienced than you in this realm but the didn't matter to you, all that did was the connection and pleasure you experienced.

You open your eyes and slowly unclip your lacy bra, with your breasts unravelling before Conrad like a fountain. Still retaining his respectful demeanour he positioned you to lie down on the bed as he massaged around your nipples. "Do you like that honey." "Mm" was all that could escape from your mouth.

You bucked your pelvis into his as he was still on top of you now sucking on your tits with such affection and desire. You could feel his steamy body heat and your boobs felt like heaven. He gave you a brief kiss before making his way down to your core, pulling down the waistband of your plaid jeans.

A moan escaped your tongue, he grinned at you continuing to lick your areola before positioning himself in between your soaked legs.

"You ready for this y/n/n darling" He looked up at you for approval.

"Of course, Connie baby."

He began stimulating your clitoris, circling figure eights on your centre region. You began to feel a tingling feeling before his veiny fingers began to stroke your insides while simultaneously groping your breasts.

Your breath hitches as he makes a long lick across your vagina, then begins to flick his tongue within you. Kissing your sides, he explored your folds, making them his own. Licking erotically and still pumping his curled fingers into you. You grasp his back muscles, moaning with delight.

"Such pretty sounds, I love it when you moan remember that.He says breaking the silence and turning you on even more than before.

His tongue is now entering and existing your entrance as he continue sto play with your G-spot with his fingers.

"Conrad!" You scream with delight.

"Y/n don't forget we can stop, tell me to take it slower if you want."

"No no, this perfect, your perfect. You say through disgruntled sounds.

He lets go of your vagina and makes his way back up to you, offering you a steamy kiss. He let's you pull of his shirt and pants revealing his perfectly sized penis. You have a radical awakening to have him inside of you.

"Con, please." You mutter urging him.

"Of course, anything for you."

He lines himself up to your entrance and pushes slowly constantly checking in with you to ensure your comfort. You both let out yet another moan as he dominates on top.

He slowly and carefully grinds against you while kissing your neck and ear and gripping your ass. What a multitasker you though to yourself!

You could feel yourself coming to your peak but before that he strokes your labia, causing your stomach to erupt with pleasure. You couldn't take it any longer but wanted to make sure he came too so you enticed him with your seductive voice.

"Conrad, make me your's, fuck me until I can't see straight hon, do me...hard, you know I love you."

"Fuck, don't do that to my y/n " He said as his face flushed red. You could feel him harden inside of you.

He quickened his pace as you buckled your hips against his toned body. The slightly ajared window provided the greatest moonlight which picturesquely painted an incandescent glow around the silhouette of Conrad.

He flips you so you have a chance to ride him, placeing his hands on your hips and a finger in your mouth while groaning your name. You rub fast against his cock and suck on his slender hand. As you do, you lean forward allowing Conrad to grasp your breasts and continue fondling them. Suddenly, you climax with great force simultaneously with him. Feeling the warm semen fill your pussy, you ride your high out together.

He puts you down and plants a kiss on your forehead, offering to watch a movie and cuddle throughout the night.

"I'm glad it was you Connie." You spoke.

"Anything for you y/n, my future, my everything. You and me, we are infinite and I'll gladly kiss your curves for evermore. Unless you want to try out a few other moves later." He said as he winked.

Oh Conrad what would I do without you, you thought as you peacefully fell asleep against his chest.

[dimepdf]

★  𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔. + 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. sometimes you feel a bit guilty admitting that your best friend's father is the one for you.

─── ☆ notes. gonna be leaning more towards au type fanfic after this as a thank you for 9k! i feel kinda bland not being able to write in the genre of fantasy after my king!eren fic lmao . | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | dilf!toji | older man/younger woman | age gap | secret relationship | hookups | corruption kink | height difference | teasing | mocking | finger sucking | handjobs | oral sex | throat fucking | cum swallowing | title inspo by this song.

dilf!toji, who everyone knows is too good looking for his middle age, his clean uncaring dark looks and deep dangerous smirk make many people the victim of his smart charm.

He could have anyone wrapped around his finger whenever he had pleased yet lived to humble himself with only a few causal partners. Cutting said women away whenever the relationship would threaten to get too serious, commitment not much of his strong suit. 

Which was why the older man should have known better than to entertain you, his son Megumi’s best friend.

It was usual for your group of friends to come to his home, using his living room as a lounge spot with the rest of the group on the weekends, taking a break from college life to collectively lounge in comfort at the breathtaking penthouse the full-pocketed family called home. 

During those said visits, dilf!toji never seemed to fail at catching your eye no matter what you were doing. Seemly struggling with some mental battle trying to not make it seem as if you weren’t some horny freak that would constantly eye fuck your best friend's very handsome and seemly always shirtless ab toned father.

dilf!toji, who despite his better judgment starts taking a liking to the young girl that had no issue surging through his snack pantry, yet wouldn't be able to hold a conversation without stumbling over your words or struggling to hold eye contact with him. 

dilf!toji who loved catching you off guard leered around from your friends peering eyes and watching you fidgeting over his looming towering figure, finding out just what alluring comment he could think of next that would make you turn into a flustered mess.

Maybe that’s why dilf!toji had found you so intriguing—the shy little thing that would so confidently whisper about how hot he was to your friends, knowingly confessing the lewd things you wanted to do with the man that was just a wall away. 

Yet the moment you happened to be alone with him, you would be seconds away from turning into putty. 

"We should hurry," you mutter against his lips, a gasp following after as his canines swiped against the skin of your neck and his lips pressed against you, trailing down to the peak of your collarbone.

"When did you become so impatient?" dilf!toji only says this to tease your eager state, proving his point with his move as you back him against the kitchen corner, pressing against his chest before dropping to your knees. 

It was a sight to behold, the soft spoken house guest now with your fingers untying the lace of his sweatpants. "I thought I taught you better than that," dilf!toji continues with a hand caressing the softness of your face.

Tilting your head up to look at him as his thumbs wander around the wrap of your plump lips, sighing at the warmth of your tongues pressing and sucking against the digit.

dilf!toji leans back and watches the dick eager monster he had created tugging down his sweats and boxers, eyes his erection almost close to drooling as if it were the first time you had seen his veiny length in its full glory. 

He couldn't help but smirk, knowing he had taught you just how to please him and just how much he loved it when you kissed his tip and dragged your tongue on the underside of his hilt before wrapping your lips around him and gagging, trying to take him down your throat. 

"Woah, slow down, baby, I'm not going anywhere." It was faux concern laced in his low, grave cadence, his hands trailing up to the side of your skull, finding a nice resting place for them as he thrust against your mouth.

dilf!toji, who, despite chastising you so many times about your loud whines, needs to be quieter while his son is asleep just down the hall, yet loves the loud intruding noise filling his home with the wet suctioning noise of your moans around his dick. 

With tears beading your waterline, you used your hand to stroke what you could fit in your mouth. He loved seeing you like this, all needy just for him.

"Can’t take it all, sweet girl?" dilf!toji would taunt, mocking the whine that would tug deep from your throat in arousal with a false pout.

"Look at you, so fucking needy, can’t even last a second without touching yourself," he cursed, grunting at the sight of your hand split between your spread legs. The insults would have been the icing on the cake if you weren't so deterred from getting him off first.

A woman on a mission, you beckoned him farther down your throat, giving him a look of permission while bracing yourself against his thigh.

dilf!toji hadn't spent much time putting two and two together, taking over the pace and fucking your throat at his own will.

You wanted to feel something other than the bubbling hot pleasure building up between your legs: anger, shame, or even guilt for having a thing for your best friend's dad, let alone agreeing to spend the night knowing that it would be easier for you to have a moment alone with dilf!toji now that the universe had just given you the perfect excuse.

You always knew the next morning was bound to be brutal from dilf!toji’s gruff assault on your throat, his thrust only getting rougher as he adjusted the grasp around your skull, grunting more and more as you tried to unknot the trembling orgasm that threatened to approach from your pleasuring hand.

It doesn't take him long, considering the feeling of you swallowing and humming against his length, cumming down your throat at the sight of you trembling around your fingers, egging on your own orgasm.

Struggling to swallow down most of his mess, humming and swiping your mouth with the back of your hand once he had pulled out.

You had no time to feel guilty, especially while dilf!toji lifted you on top of the kitchen island and buried himself in between your legs, lapping his tongue against your already sensitive pussy. 

You wanted to go back in time and pat yourself on the back for being friends with Megumi, knowing that it meant his father would be pushing aside your panties and fucking you against his marble counters.

🔖 @souljagrldotcom / @m0mmym1lk3r-png / @toji-dabi-wife / @dilfs-lover / @venussakura / @emery-333 / @unheolybakugo / @dunixxd / @taeecups / @songbirdgardensworld / @celi-xxmoon / @s-witch-bitch / @chloee0x0 / @kawatabae / @haitaniwhor3 / @pluzo / @hey-gurls69 / @momoewn / @sheluvzeren / @kogoshidied / @sacvh / @disaster-rose / @hoohoohope / @pidwidge / @jadeisthirsting / @cjm-cookiethief / @zuuki / @tojishugetiddies / @rumi-rants / @justanotherkpopstanlol / @awkwardaardvarkforever / @lexiinanime / @melty-kisses / @kageyama-i-want-tobiors / @kiyomeichann / @wenumsmol / @unholybabyface / @namidaass / @princesstiti14 / @watyousayin / @laylasbunbunny / @crissteetee / @ziggy-09 / @angel-luv-04 / @anotherlovelyruin / @p-rizz-ha / @lone-poltergeist / @mimixrx2 / @t4naiis /

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[spotsandsocks]

Fuck it Friday 💚🧡🩷❤️💜💙

Hello my friends, thanks for the tags @eddiebabygirldiaz @inell @repressedqueen @tizniz @loveyouanyway @loserdiaz

So today I’m doing something a bit different cos why not.. this week I got a comment on an older fic from ao3 user starspangledwriter (hello) that lead to a lovely conversation about the Buddie of it all and why they mean so much to me. The person I was chatting to suggested it might be nice to share here, so I am.

And also just to say this is what i think we writers love/hope for with comments, it’s not about wanting people to say nice things (which is obviously lovely) but having a chat about my beloveds and the story I created.

And speaking of the story… here it is if you want to check it out.

Fifteen Minutes 1.4k

“You look happy.”

Buck smiles at Eddie because he’s right, he is happy. He hasn’t been for a while but today he is, he might not have everything he wants but right now he’s happy to be in this place with these people.

He takes a deep breath and says that around his smile  “I am.” He scans Bobby and Athena’s living room takes in its occupants all chatting and laughing together. “Everyone I love is here.” He looks at Eddie expecting to see him smiling but he’s sees a frown instead. Eddie doesn’t look at him when he says,

“I didn’t see Taylor arrive. Is she here?”

Oh yeah that. He hasn’t actually told Eddie yet has he.

“Um no” he says casually. He can see Eddie trying to process that, he’s adorable when he’s confused.

“But you just said.”

“I know what I said.” He replies also not looking as he confirms the news that Taylor is not here and that he’s worked out he doesn’t love her. There’s a pause, he can’t resist a quick look at Eddie so he catches it when it finally clicks.  Eddie says  “oh”  and Buck sees a smile flash across his face like quicksilver before he wipes it away. There and gone again, so quick Buck might have imagined it. He’s pretty sure he hadn’t though. There’s another moment of silence before Eddie asks the question good friends are supposed to in these circumstances.

“You ok?”

“Yup like I said everyone I love is here. I’m perfect.”

He should probably distract Eddie or he might get interrogated as to why he’s broken up with his girlfriend and that’s a conversation he’s not keen to have. He doesn’t like lying especially to Eddie and any explanation as to why he did what he did is going to reveal more than he’d like.

He can practically hear Eddie thinking, his mouth opens and he just knows the next sentence is going to start with why so Buck jumps in.

“Did you know the Ancient Greeks thought there were 7 types of love.”

Eddie’s expression changes instantly and settles into something softer as he says “No Buck I didn’t, but I guess I’m about to find out huh?” He thinks Eddie looks quite happy about it. No one else looks at him like that when he’s infodumping. It makes him feel warm all over.

“Well” Buck twists towards Eddie and leans in without thinking.

There’s philia that’s family love so like how I feel  for Maddie and Chim. Bobby and Athena too really and Hen. That’s for the people you love and trust cos you know they’ll always be there for you.

Eddie nods.

“All of  us have kinda got agape; that’s universal love for others, it’s why we do what we do, help people.”

And like Hen and Karen they’ve been together for years so they’ve got pragma that’s long lasting love, it’s just there warm and steady. But they’ve got eros too, that’s you know,  desire and stuff.”

Eddie chuckles “I guess Bobby and Athena have that if the firefighter role play is  anything to go by.”

“Eww I just told you they’re like my parents, why would you do that to me. It was bad enough first time round.” He shakes himself to clear the image and Eddie laughs.

“What else? That’s only five.”

He carries on “Well there’s ludus” he’s hoping to skim over the last two “that’s about sex without commitment, just for fun.” He doesn’t say that’s what he had with Taylor and that was why he’d ended it. He doesn’t say he wants something different from life now and that he’d thought he could find it with her but he'd been wrong.

Eddie purses his lips and nods “ok” that seems to be it, Eddie seems happy to move on from that one too.

“And there’s the love parents feel for their kids that’s called storge.”

“So what I feel for Chris and what Bobby feels for you?”

He can feel his cheeks heating “You and Chris yeah, for sure”  he looks over at Bobby, it’d be nice if Bobby felt like that. His thoughts must be written all over his face or maybe Eddie’s just good at reading him.

“I think he does” Eddie says gently, Buck shrugs the colour high in his cheeks.

“What about you and Chris?” Eddie asks. Buck hesitates, cheeks getting pinker by the second. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to answer that. Which answer Eddie wants. He risks a look at him, he looks the same, smiling fondly. He waits and when Buck doesn’t answer he says “You're allowed to feel it you know, say it, if you want to.”

“Am I?” All his doubts are on show.

And the rest is on ao3 🩷

Tagging for FIF if anyone wants to share anything at all!

@hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @bi-buckrights @fiona-fififi

@rogerzsteven @bekkachaos @thekristen999 @ronordmann @hippolotamus

@stagefoureddiediaz @spaceprincessem @underwaterninja13 @wildlife4life @exhuastedpigeon

@weewootruck @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @elvensorceress @jesuisici33

@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @steadfastsaturnsrings @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @actualalligator

@rainbow-nerdss @shipperqueen6

[saintsenara]

I’m increasingly intrigued by the idea of Harry/Kingsley.

I’ve always thought that Harry would be inclined to go for people considerably older than him; I think we see this even with his crushes on Bill, Tom, Cedric etc Even arguably Sirius.

Kingsley is good humoured (giving Sirius them Quibblers ah I love you Kings) and he’s very attuned to Harry’s self-esteem etc (Prefect thingie… side note: Harry absolutely should not have been Prefect. He would’ve hated it and would’ve neglected his duties severely)

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i am also inclined to back this.

kingsley is obviously a great laugh, he got along really well with sirius, and harry likes his style. plus, vernon is canonically ready to risk it all for kingsley, so think how jealous he'd be. there’s no way that wouldn't motivate harry to put the moves on the minister.

but there's also a really interesting dynamic brought it by the fact that this is undoubtedly only going to happen as a post-war pairing... which is that i think it's extremely plausible to suggest that harry and kingsley's approaches to how the aftermath of the conflict is dealt with [and their reflections on their roles in the war] are going to be very different, in a way which introduces some lovely, compelling tension into the mix.

harry's view of the war is of a struggle between a singular force of evil - voldemort - and a singular force of good - himself - which he sees as existing outside of the structures of normal society. during deathly hallows, he really doesn't spare much mental energy for the fact that voldemort's forces are running the state - above all in that he thinks that hogwarts is a place of normality and safety, and is far more shocked than is reasonable to discover this isn't the case when he arrives at the castle.

and this builds on something which always strikes me in order of the phoenix - that, even though harry spends the first five chapters of the book absolutely furious that he's been subjected to an information blackout by the order, he completely ceases to care about their work the second he knows it's primarily focused on threats to the state and its institutions [so from c. 6 onwards], to the extent that, by the ninth chapter of the book, harry has circled back to being pleased about molly weasley's statement that he's as good as her son and wanting her to keep thinking it, and no longer believes sirius has much useful to tell him about the anti-voldemort movement.

[which everyone seems to overlook, for some reason...]

this all makes sense, obviously, given harry's genre archetype. the series is about him and voldemort and the mystical connection between them, this can only be explained to him by a single mentor-figure [dumbledore], the order are - essentially - set-dressing.

but from a watsonian perspective, it's the spark for a really interesting post-war premise - that harry thinks everything is fine once voldemort's dead. kingsley - in contrast - will recognise that the rot goes much deeper. not least because he becomes minister and immediately has to try and get the government working when he knows the entire civil service stayed in post during the war.

i have always been really committed to believing that many of the extra-canonical bits of information about harry's extraordinary mercy which jkr has dropped since the series ended - especially the detail that he intervenes to get lucius malfoy off all charges, entirely and only because malfoy didn't do anything to harm him at a crucial time - must have infuriated kingsley.

[and kingsley must already have been a little infuriated, since dumbledore essentially assigned the order pointless busy-work - which nonetheless required them all to risk their lives daily - to pass the time until harry and voldemort could face off for their final showdown...]

and so i think there's so much potential for tension there, in a fic which is initially about a bit of post-war age-gap blowing off steam... but which then has to deal with the thorny [and therefore erotic] questions of justice, power, forgiveness, and so on...

[and harry should never have been a prefect. justice for dean, i say.]

[lazyofficer]

HERE IS WHY SHIRLULU IS A LEGITIMATE SHIP -PART 1

Warning: I'm not a writer and English is not my native language. So kindly bare it or DM me about it. Criticism is welcomed not hate.

I always wanted to post a detailed analysis of  Shirley X Lelouch  relationship and will post in parts due to Tumblr restricted on images. 

Fun fact- I started watching Code Geass with all the spoilers (deaths) and was fully expecting to be part of the Cclulu or Kalulu fanbase (because they are popular), but as I continued watching, I couldn't understand why Shirlulu had a minor fanbase and was ignored when their feelings were so obvious. Needless to say I became a Shirlulu shipper.

Let's start -

Shirley and Lelouch loved each other.

While Shirley's feeling are so obvious.

Lelouch's feelings are hinted throughout the series (both direct and subtle hints), which are often ignored as filler or brushed off as "guilt" for killing her father (which is not the case). 

There are people who dislike Shirley just because she is not "useful" like other girls. Let me tell you it's called a business deal and not love if you are going to choose a person based on their "usefulness." 

Let's start with Direct hints

R1 Stage 14 -

although the whole episode is dedicated to Shirlulu and their relationship. I'm focusing  only on the bits right now.

Lelouch, being dense when it comes to love, didn't realize his feelings until he lost her. Lelouch really cherished her presence in his life.

When I first watched CG , I really didn't expect that Lelouch would say such a romantic line especially for Shirley ( the ship so unpopular) and I repeat NO ONE would say this for a platonic friendship.

I was suspicious of Lelouch's feelings but this episode made it crystal clear that's its mutual , it's just Lelouch didn't realize it before.

Honestly, I would love to see them bicker and laugh it off after patching up

R1 Stage 12 & 14 -

IIrc, Shirley is the only girl whom Lelouch kissed back.

Personally I don't think he kissed her back due to guilt over killing her father but more like doing anything he could to comfort her.

He could have kissed Kallen if guilt was the reason but he only let her kiss him.

R1 Stage 14 -

"Any sin you commit is mine to bear" is the love language of Lelouch. If we consider Lelouch's personality.

He is not type to buy flowers and chocolates and he is the type who would do everything in power to hide the evidence of murder and going far to even take the blame for it.

Ranked as one of the best anime hugs and only hugging scene in code geass series. The way Lelouch pulls her to hug is everything

R2 Stage 12 -

Shirley felt Lelouch was lying about his feelings for her. His immediate response was a hard " No". Once he realized what he blurted out he tried to cover it up.

The he reason why he played innocent was because he is too busy and cannot afford to be in a relationship. He doesn't want to be neglectful boyfriend to her because doesn't deserve it.

This alone should be a proof that Shirley's feeling are reciprocated.

It's because of his feelings he wants to keep her at distance so that is safe.

R2 Stage 24 -

Lelouch was arguing with Schneizel about how people struggle against sadness yet still seek the future.

The first scene that played was Shirley's death, symbolizing that Lelouch's struggle against sadness was Shirley's death and how he still he seeks a future.

R2 Stage 25 -

Lelouch was dying, the first person that came to his mind was Shirley (after it was just chronological order S2-S1), and his last being his childhood with Suzaku and Nunnally. Special people in Lelouch's life

Many people chose to ignore this moment but this one is undeniable proof that Lelouch never moved on from Shirley