#these two make me sick (positive connotation)

[shimmershy]

Buttercups and Golden Flowers

[miloticaquarium]

violently gripping couch arm

denmark and iceland having a father-son relationship.

denmark, obsessing over baby iceland as a teenager because he’s only seen babes that small nestled in mothers’ arms, bundled in layers of furs to keep warm. and now, here’s one he’s allowed to hold! so obviously he’s going to do everything in his power to hold him every second of his day. norway scolds him for moving iceland too much or holding him too roughly, but denmark refuses to give him back to norway. despite his violent tendencies and wild behavior at the time, denmark seemed to calm whenever he was near baby iceland.

toddler iceland, finding that playing with denmark’s hair is one of the most entertaining things a toddler in the middle ages can do. and denmark letting him do it whenever he wanted.

denmark, in the midst of the collapse of the kalmar union, ignoring his own declining health for the sake of keeping iceland happy. denmark, refusing to let iceland see the actual carnage of what norway had left him as even though he knows he knows.

teenager iceland, who is standoffish and hates to get emotional, that willingly watches sad movies with denmark because he knows that denmark will shed the first tear. iceland who likes to hang out with denmark, because he still treats him the same as he did before he grew up.

adult denmark who always tries to involve iceland. adult denmark who makes it clear that he is there for iceland; that he wants to be the shoulder that he cries on. modern denmark who is prepared to make up for what he lacked in his prior years.

teenager iceland who has taken up denmark’s offers on midnight baking because he couldn’t sleep. teenager iceland who tries to remember what denmark was like at his (physical) age, and often remembers being cuddled into denmark’s arms. teenager iceland who catches himself humming old lullabies denmark used to (try to) sing to him when he was younger.

[synonymroll648]

What should fitz’s hair color in my band au

hmmmmm, this is an excellent question. we have basis in shannon's word for multiple hair colors:

-brown (natural hair color, duh)

-green (keefe and dex dyed his shampoo green which somehow made all of his hair neon green and spiky, if i recall correctly, in book 4)

-pink (shannon said, at one point, that if fitz could dye his hair, he'd dye it pink)

so if it were me, i'd pick one of those. depending on how much time the band au covers, you could have fitz's hair be different colors. gonna put me nerding out about colors and narrative stuff under the cut real quick. remember that this is just my thought process on approaching colors - if you're like, 'uh that's unnecessarily complicated,' then don't do it! no worries! pick and choose what you like.

the vibe of the fic in general plays a role in deciding which color you wanna go for.

green has an association with death, since elves wear that to funerals. that doesn't have to apply to your fic, but bringing that mindset in one way or another could be a nice tie-back to canon. green is also the color of life. the emotional connotation of green, in the books, is very complex. it's bittersweet. different hues of green also say different things. neon green, like it was in book 4, is electric. it's loud and bright and it screams, look at me. look at the energy i have. look at all the ways i could shock you. on the other hand, if you went for a more chill shade - like shamrock green - it'd be a lot closer to canon's emotional connotation of green. you could potentially do mint green as well without going way off from canon basis, since fitz likes the flavor of mint, and it'd be kinda funny for him to be like 'yeahhhh so the reason i dyed my hair this color is because it's color of my favorite dessert flavor. biana shut up and stop laughing or i'll drop you into a trash can.' the environment fitz is in could also affect how people (including himself) view the different shades of green. younger generations tend to think of dyed hair as sick af, but older generations usually think dyed hair is weird (/neg).

also, a little bit of storytime - once upon a time, i wanted to dye my hair green, and the shade i wanted wasn't mint green. both my grandma and mom both went 'if you go with any other shade than mint, you're gonna look like a stoner with mental health issues.' (paraphrased.) so uh. yeah.

i said a while back that i'd write an essay on the symbolism of pink haired!fitz, but i haven't done it yet, so i'm not gonna spoil everything i wanna say there. but keep in mind that pink is a color that has a feminine connotation with the general populace, whereas green has a gender neutral connotation with the general populace. obviously, colors don't have gender, but your band au might have fitz in a position of fame, so i thought you might wanna keep it in mind. anyway. back to pink. fitz choosing pink feels more like a statement than him picking green. in canon, green was an accident that he looked at and went 'oh hey, this actually doesn't suck too bad? i kinda like this?'. pink isn't canon canon (yet, i hope) but it feels more like a choice. it feels like him going, 'this is a color that i'm not supposed to like, but i do. so i'm gonna make it a part of me, and you can't stop me.' like with green, and every other color ever, different hues of pink have different vibes. baby pink is gentle. hot pink has the same vibe as neon green, except a bit more feminine. darker pink is a little less jarring than the other two shades, compared to his natural hair color. a bit more chill. a warmer vibe than shamrock. a little more welcoming.

and then, of course, you could just keep it brown the whole fic. that's understandable.

see, now this is probably where i'm supposed to go, 'yeahhh this is really long so i'm just gonna stop now. hope this helps!' but nah bro. nah. i have a bit more to say and i'm making it your problem :)

what i have in mind that i'd like to talk about is timelines. i have no idea how long your band au is stretching out, in terms of word count and time placement. i have no idea if there are any flashbacks or memories or non-linear narrative things going on. and so i am bringing timelines to the table.

let's start with thinking about the timeline we might have in canon, when it comes to fitz's hair. we have brown, green very briefly, back to brown, and maybe if shannon lets fitz dye his hair a color he chooses, pink at the end. if you want to have fitz's hair be different colors at different times in this universe, you could use a template similar to that. or you could do something entirely different, depending on the events you have in mind! maybe fitz never gets green hair, and goes straight to pink. maybe fitz gets green hair, and decides to keep it and never goes to pink. maybe fitz never dyes it at all, because he's comfortable with brown. it's up to you!

ok. now i'm gonna shut up. after a few more sentences. 1. hope that wasn't a waste of your time and 2. if you need ideas and second opinions on how your band au plot affects fitz's hair color, lmk and 3. finally shutting up, have a great rest of your day

[domestick-clairvoyante]

i had a super weird/upsetting dream last night and i usually dont think much about my dreams but this one has been kind of stuck in my head since i woke up… and then i found your blog!

TW: the content is somewhat graphic.

the dream was that we had a “turkey” in a glass cage in our apartment. and it was like, dying slowly. idk if it was sick or if we had stopped taking care of it or what. i think it was a combination of the two. anyway, sometimes it would look super dead, laying in a cirlce, its feet all bloated, feathers missing, skin moist and discolored… and its beak had rotted away, this little tongue just sticking out. it looked so dead and was apparently rotting so that when we took it out of this little rock shelter, it peeled off and had molded to the shape of the container— and some of the feathers stuck to the inside of the rock. but when it wasnt looking dead it would get up and walk around but still looked so indescribably grotesque. and it looked at me like it wanted to kill me. what stuck out the most was how badly i didnt want to touch it but i couldn’t avert my gaze either.

hello lovely,

that does sound upsetting! i'm going to be honest with you - dreams are odd. they tend to be very contradictory and abstract, and all-around perplexing. hopefully, i'll be able to make it less confusing for you :)

a disclaimer: it can be difficult to interpret dreams as a whole, primarily because there are so many different meanings and symbols to be gleaned from them. please take my interpretation with a grain of salt!

if you don’t want to read through the whole interpretive process, scroll down to ‘In a Rush?“ <3

we’ll start by looking at basic symbols as a foundation:

the (dying) turkey: traditionally, turkeys are seen as symbols of abundance, profit and prosperity. they are commonly recognised as a cultural symbol of forgiveness and celebration. but, given the context of the dream, this may not be the case! now, death in dreams is not immediately unfavourable. without context, it does not have apparent negative or positive connotations. it often points to the end of something in your life, and the beginning of something new.

neglect/sickness: neglect is quite an obvious concept to interpret, and can be taken at face value - there may be some aspect of yourself that you are not paying enough attention to. sickness, on the other hand, is not as straightforward. it has dual meanings on both the positive and negative side of the spectrum: a sense of hopelessness, and a need to take some time to look after yourself. it may also indicate that you feel unsatisfied in your waking life.

the glass cage/rock shelter: you mentioned two types of cages the turkey was contained in. i'm not sure if this was deliberate, but I'll offer interpretations for them both anyway! glass cages are symbols of restraint and disconnectedness. it may suggest that you are feeling stuck whilst watching others around you go on. the rock shelter, on the other hand, appears only when you remove the turkey from its enclosure. this, i find intriguing. rocks symbolise security and stability - but the turkey's physical removal from the rocks may be a manifestation of a lack of security and stability in your own life.

your apartment: locations usually lend context to your dream. apartments, and typically homey locations in general, represent the area of material possessions, the home (which goes hand-in-hand with feelings of comfort and safety) and personal relationships. this leads me to believe that the general theme of your dream may lean slightly more towards those aspects of your life.

other notes: "it looked at me like it wanted to kill me." (about the turkey) "what stuck out the most was how badly i didnt want to touch it but i couldn’t avert my gaze either." (about your interactions with the turkey)

i don't have much context to weave the symbols into, so i'll leave out this section of the interpretation for now. let me know if you'd like to come back to it later.

💫🌟In a Rush? Or Simply Not a Fan of Long Texts? Read the Final Interpretation Below🌟💫

given the symbols and other clues we have collected, i think the general theme of your dream surrounds a decline in abundance and prosperity (not necessarily financial) in your life, leading to a sense of lost security and stability.

you might feel unsatisfied with where you are right now. you may feel disconnected from the rest of the world, potentially experiencing a sensation of being 'stuck' whilst the lives of others continue around you. this feeling of dissatisfaction has affected your personal comfort and the connections you hold with others.

while you are hesitant to directly touch upon the issue, it is something that you have been aware of for a while. however, you find yourself ignoring it.

going forward, you need to tackle the issue head-on. but you also need to remember to take it easy on yourself. this is a difficult period in your life - allow yourself to pause and take a moment to breathe.

this is the time to step back and process your next steps <3

i’m sending love your way! and i hope this helps - let me know if you need any clarification :)

(i have tagged potential triggers, but please let me know if i should add any more)

[tomschoolwork]

Ferderigo's falcon makes me so very ill (positive connotation)

The Tale of the Falcon/Federigo’s falcon is layered in a way that makes me physically ill to think about. All in all it’s about the transformative ability of love, and how love can change a person.

Starting off is the cruel irony. Firstly, Federigo loved Monna Giovanna so much he essentially bankrupted himself in the hope she would even spare him a glance, which she never did. She only really looked at him once he had so little to offer. He was so grateful she had the idea to even suggest they sit and eat dinner together, that he had jumped to give up something that was even possibly worthy of her to eat, but he had no clue that was the very thing she had desired. He wept when she asked, and she had assumed it was because of her want. They both didn’t want to hurt the other, but in a way, that’s exactly what they had done. Monna had led to Federigo’s bankruptcy and Federigo led to the demise of her very son.

Then there’s the diction. The way the story is built up, seeing the way Federigo had been a royal and how his money was so unimportant as compared to the love of Monna Giovanna, we watched his fall to the lower tiers of society, and didn’t regret it for even a moment. Then we see that Monna had lost her husband and feared that soon she’d also lose her child. She hadn’t wanted to request the falcon from Federigo, knowing that all her rejections led to him losing his status, but she had a mother’s heart, so she agreed to ask. Then seeing that Federigo still had his chivalrous mindset desired to make a meal fitting for a woman of a high status, as well as being one that he loved dearly. But we know what he doesn’t. It could have been a tragedy, but it hadn’t been and it was just a happy ending for the two.

Plus the symbolism used in it. The falcon is used as a way to show devotion. When the falcon is still around, Federigo is still devoted to his love of Monna Giovanna, and her devoted to her son. With the loss of the falcon, Monna loses her devotion, her son is sure to pass away without it (for some reason) and they realize the tragedy of the situation. And in the end, Monna chooses Federigo to marry. With the loss of the falcon, they lose the devotion to their constraints, now truly able to love each other.

Nobody talk to me I am going to be sick

[zakarealdotnet]

A Story About Necromancy

Pain is the great equalizer. Its manifestations surmount space, time and class to partition ordinate amounts of its fares; all manners of dreads and physicalities make up its tenure of the psyche. To defy pain, to ignore its influence is to reject the natural. Nature does not reward its rejection.

For years her death had all but consumed me. The life I had built was undivorceable from her influence. Her mannerisms, structures and self intertwined with mine in a fig-like fashion that trumped death. Like a virus she carried on inside of me in all manners. Her influences hung freely, fruits of our interspecial interaction, mementos of what once was, the aftermath; the heat and weakness and perspiration of sickness left the tough outer shell of seedy, sweet fruit.

Day in and day out her visage etched into my hull, its connotations paid forward an aura of dread that exited my body with every action, a pressurized pipeline chanting a mantra of absence, and I pined for what once was.

I sought after a cure. Parsing knowledge and employing every faculty to find anything that could possibly right the course of events that had wronged me years ago, that had put out the light that gave tangible shape and color to that which was around me. What is the knowledge of a star without its presence? Does every iota of information not point back to its absence? To know its position, luminosity, mass, age, and surroundings serves no purpose if this metadata becomes disbanded from its file, as they are mere numbers, anecdotes, names. I needed to reestablish this balance. I could not allow this information to operate in a void, contextless and disparate. It was wrong to do otherwise.

~

Recomposed, she embodied every physicality that had been lost. The same familiar voice projected right under eyes well-worn with our contact. The first time that these two aspects converged from disparate metadata to sensory experience, I cried, from the moment of their coincidence until I fell asleep, laying on the very floor on which I saw and heard her again.

The next morning, she woke me. She was making breakfast. I had replaced the coffee machine after she had gone away. She needed help.

The morning was quaint. We ate and talked, nary a mention of her absence. She called relatives, friends, and began putting her life back together. I sat and watched. She went about her day, and we played games, cooked, read, simply existing in parallel, and we retired after dusk.

I could not bring myself to some euphoric display of her revival. Why? Why had the months I had pained and pined for her return have no effect on my reaction? The incessant study of ancient and modern arts and sciences provided a clear vision of a rhapsody, the flourishing of life and crescendo of pure ecstasy upon her revival, yet I felt nothing. Things were as they were.

~

Things are as they were. Like before she was lost. The normalities of everyday life persist. We talked, played, chored in parallel. It seems that no one had paid much mind to the fact that she had been gone. Relatives were elated, yet simply continued their discourse. Friends took no time to invite her once again to their outings and activities. The government simply threw out the paperwork declaring her death and asked her to continue to pay her taxes.

I am quite frankly uncomfortable with this. What of me? I had trumped death after all. I regaled the world with a soul lost to the jaws of nature’s primary force, that which dictated the evolution and perseverance of trillions upon quadrillions of organisms since time immemorial. I care not for scientific acclaim, but personal. Something to relieve me of the memory of absence, the tremendous steel sheet I carried in this labor, blocking view and cutting into the skin on my hands. Was I the only one to remember the scars, the very ones that only began to fade when the labor was done, when I was relieved of the great, inevitable product of machinery? This brewed in my mind with increasing vigor and conviction to its weight, yet every time I spoke to her, these machinations found no foothold in my trachea. They seemed inane, insignificant, and in these seconds of deliberation, they fell back into my lungs and resumed their simmering.

~

The fig-vine had unwound. The virus had vanished. Flat rules that dictated my reflection had been broken. Foolishly, I bound them to nature. The looming shadow of the Labor had persevered. That which blocked out the light.

She continues on, unaffected: eating, sleeping, working. Does she not see it? The blatant incongruencies echo in every one of her actions like a dissonant chord in a concert hall. She does everything wrong. I can’t muster up an ounce of empathy for her cacophonic imposition. I want her to stop. I think I have begun to hate her.

[mrspasser]

Skin hunger

Five times Stiles felt lonely during lockdown and one time he didn’t.

1. Quarantine

"Bad news, Stiles," his father says on the phone. Stiles almost drops the box of cereal he just grabbed from the shelf, a chill filling his chest. He almost doesn't catch the rest of what his father says.

"Wait, dad, wait," he stammers, putting his shopping basket down on the tiled floor of the supermarket and yanking his earphones out so he can put the smartphone against his ear instead - like that will change what he hears. "Back up a little. What's going on?"

His father sighs, but dutifully repeats his last words. "I tested positive for Covid."

"Is that all?" His stomach swoops in relief. "Damn it, dad! Didn't we talk about this before? You can't start a phone call with the words 'bad news'!"

"Language, son!" his father admonishes before he acquiesces a little and amends his words. "I can't very well call it good news, don't I? They jammed a stick up my nose and told me I have the Corona virus and will have to be quarantined."

"The word positive has a negative connotation nowadays," Stiles admits. "But, you weren't feeling sick, were you?" He has barely seen his dad the past few days, yet he thinks he'd notice it if his dad was feeling under the weather.

"A runny nose, hardly anything worse," the sheriff answers lightly. Too lightly.

Stiles squints his eyes suspiciously at the boxes of cereal on the shelf in front of him. "Do you have a fever?" he asks. "The chills? Sore throat? Headache maybe?"

"It's fine," his father says. "I feel fine, nothing major. You shouldn't worry. In fact, you shouldn't come home at all."

"What? Why?!" An elderly lady a little further down the aisle startles at his sudden outburst. Stiles waves apologetically at her.

"We have hardly seen each other this week because I was working a lot. I'm fairly certain you didn't have a chance to catch it from me, so let's keep it that way," the sheriff explains. "You should stay at Scott's house. I can put a sleepover bag on the porch for you to pick up."

"That's ridiculous! I'm not leaving you alone in the house when you're sick!"

"Stiles, I feel fine!"

"Yeah, now you do, but who knows how you'll feel tomorrow?" Stiles takes the cereal box out of his shopping basket and puts it back on the shelf. He'll have to exchange his basket for a cart. "No, dad, listen. Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to get groceries for at least a week and then I'm coming home. Someone has to make sure you're eating healthy and keep an eye on you."

Stiles should check if having premonitions is a Spark thing, because the next day his dad feels worse and he's confined to his bed for the next four days. It's no worse than a severe case of the flu, Melissa assures him during one of their many phone calls that week, but Stiles feels on edge the whole time. He makes sure to keep his distance and he wears a mask when he enters his father's bedroom to bring food and to check up on him. The sheriff has a high fever for the first two days, but it declines steadily after that. It puts Stiles' mind a bit at ease, though he doesn't sleep soundly the whole week, always an ear out for any sounds his father makes.

It's a lonely week. The sheriff is sleeping or dozing most of the time and Stiles is either doing chores, cooking healthy but light dinners or trying to do the homework Scott dropped off for him. By the time everything is done for the day, Stiles is too tired to do more than sag out on the couch and watch old episodes of Seinfeld on Netflix. Read the rest on Wattpad or Archive of our own. 

Reblogging is appreciated :)

[ray-ray-writings]

Hello it's me and I love all of your drabbles about Techno x reader so far😍🥰. Your one of my favorite writers here in tumblr and if it's not too much to ask. Can you make a drabble where a reader is sick and all of the dream smp members and the sleepy bois are getting worried and panic(only to some members of the smp and this is not related to any of your drabbles recently. This is where the reader is single actually and has no relationship to anyone...yet😏). They only notice something wrong when one day the reader doesn't do their morning routines where she delivers some supplies that were asked by her friends in exchange for new and valuable things. And don't forget to stay safe and healthy 😘☺️.

Of course! Thank you so much for you super kind words!! 

So you would wake up one morning and just be feeling absolutely miserable. You knew you were sick and that there was no way that you were going to be able to get out of bed. You feel really bad because you usually deliver the things that people had asked you to collect for them in the morning and pick up new “orders” that anyone might have, but this morning there is no way that you’re going to be able to do that. And you can’t even find the energy and strength to send out a message letting everyone know what was happening. You just roll over, bury yourself in the covers and fall back asleep. 

At first, everyone is just confused. They’re all in their respective homes just waiting for you to arrive and deliver their things. They’re always really excited for this because they get to see you and talk to you for a little bit before you go on your way to the next person’s house. But as time goes on, everyone begins to get more and more concerned. You definitely should have been here by now, you’re never late, where are you. They all try separately to get in contact with you, but when all messages go unresponded, panic begins to build. I feel that Sapnap would be the first to act. He would go over to Dream’s house and ask if you had gone to his house yet. Dream tells him no and asks him the same question and Sapnap would respond with something sassy like, “Would I have come over here to ask you if they had”. Dream rolls his eyes but let’s the comment slide. So the two decide to visit everyone else and make sure that they just didn’t get skipped. As they visit houses, they’re group grows because everyone wants to make sure that you’re okay. So that by the time they get to Techno’s house (we’re going to pretend he lives in L’Manberg) almost the entire SMP had formed in one major “mob”. When Techno says he hasn’t seen you, the group just bursts into a lot of noise and connotation. Everyone began trying to talk over one another trying to decide what the best course of action was. It’s actually Tubbo who lets out a scream and gets everyone to shut up for a moment. “Thank you! Now why don’t we just go over to their house and see if they’re there? There is no use in panicking until we’re sure they’re not okay.” And everyone begins to grumble at that because ‘man they should have thought of that’. But everyone agrees and so this massive group quickly makes its way across the SMP to your house. Niki is the one to knock on your door to be polite, but when there’s no answer and everyone begins to murmur again trying to decide what to do, Tommy shoves his way to the front of the group and just kicks in the door. Some stare in shock, others are impressed, but Tommy just moves into your house with everyone following behind him. 

While you’re asleep, you here your front door bang open, but you’re too sleepy to really care or comprehend what’s happening. But then there are many sets of footsteps and there’s murmuring heading down the hall to your bedroom. You manage to pry your eyes open blearily as your bedroom door is opened and literally everyone pours in. “Y/N!” They all shout with glee. It makes you wince because your head is killing you, only a few people notice. The rest begin to try and talk all at once, causing the noise level to increase and you to bury your face in your covers. It doesn’t seem to stop but suddenly there is a pressure on the side of your mattress and the covers are pulled back from your face. “You alright?” It’s Philza who is staring down at you in concern. “‘m sick,” you manage to croak out causing his face to contort. “Head hurts, body hurts. Too much” you mumble. Philza’s gentle hand rests on your forehead and he winces at the feeling. “Guys,” he speaks softly. And although it’s loud and his words are soft, everyone shuts up and turns to look because it’s Philza and he’s beside you. “They’re sick, if you could keep it down. I’m sure they would much appreciate it.” A lot of them look like deer in headlights for a moment, mainly Sapnap, Dream, Punz, Fundy, Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo and Quackity. “Oh poor baby,” Niki murmurs out in pity. 

But then she jumps into action, “I’ll go make some soup, Fundy and Bad, you’re with me.” the two called get big smiles and nod.  “Philza and the eldest two sons you get them medicine, cold rags, things like that.” Philza gives you a soft smile, a kiss on the forehead, and then gets up to stand by Wilbur and Techno. “Sam, Puffy, and Quackity. You’re in charge of taking the supplies that they were going to deliver to us today and distributing it to us. Y/N probably has a list and a chest where they store these things,” Niki looks over to you and you give a small nod, “Yeah, it’s right by the front door. The list should be in the item frame above it.” the three also give you big smiles and thumbs up. “Next, if you are under the age of 18, you’re in charge of making sure that Y/N has all the supplies that they need. Wood, cobblestone, stone, food, just all the materials they may need. Got it,” Tubbo and Ranboo give thumbs up but Tommy looks like he’s about to complain. One sharp glare from Niki, though, gets him to shut his mouth and nod begrudgingly. “What about us?” Punz questions, motioning to the four boys that were left. Niki looks over at you and then over at them and gives them a small shrug and a big smile, “You boys, Dream, George, Sapnap, Punz, are on cuddle duty”. The four let out loud cheers at that. You don’t even mind the fact it hurts your head because it makes you feel so loved that they’re cheering over cuddling you. Sapnap actually doesn’t wait for a ‘okay go do your tasks’. He literally just runs over to your bed and plants himself down on top of you like a blanket. “No fair!” The other three whine out before also rushing over to settle into a comfortable position. You are overwhelmed with love and support when Niki calls out for everyone to go and they all spring into action and just bustle around your house. Phil, Wilbur and Techno bring you water and medicine and towels and just everything you could ever want or need. The boys around you are snuggled into you so tightly that you are just so comfortable and could fall asleep again. Someone is playing with your hair. Another is rubbing your back. Another is messing with your fingers and someone’s fingers are trailing up and down your tummy and thighs. Philza helps you drink in a way that you don’t have to move that much and Wilbur brings up another blanket and tucks you five in while Techno places a cool rag on your forehead. 

After a while, BBH comes up to tell you that the soup is ready and then without another thought, you’re being carried downstairs. Somehow, your kitchen table has been extended and there is a place for everyone. Sapnap and Punz help you sit in your seat before sitting beside you. Punz holds one of your hands while Sapnap literally feeds you the soup and everyone stares at him in jealousy because they wish they would have thought of that. As you’re eating, everyone tells you about how the jobs they were assigned got done and how you don’t have to worry about anything. After eating, many people have to leave to get back to what they were doing, but many stay. There’s probably more than ten people on your bed after lunch, you didn’t even know it could fit that many, but you don’t mind. It’s nice and even though you’re sick, you’ve never felt better. 

[miraculouscontent]

(miraculous asks)

Anonymous said:

Oh My Gosh!!!! I was just thinking about Party Crasher and man I hate how they had Ladybug get captured for the men to save! It's a continuous thing you see in media: strong heroic woman gets put in peril so that the men can shine. I didn't even realize it until you said it! I get that it was probably meant to be a "role reversal" of Chat always getting kidnapped or brainwashed for Ladybug to save, but the fact that this is the "guys' episode" it read like "well damn, we can't have the guys be strong if a girl is in the way; let's have the girl get captured so the boys can prove their worth by rescuing her!".

At least in Sandboy, Ladybug was still competent and came up with the plans, but this?! It makes me sick, and it's all too easy to fall into these traps; even Kim Possible did it! In my magical girl story, the heroine does get put in a magical coma and require someone to bail her out, but it's her female friends AND her boyfriend who save her, so it's not just a girl being weakened so a boy can be powerful, especially since said boy actually does a minority of the work required to save her; the focus is on the female characters so it's her girl friends who do most of it. I still ended up scrapping that side plot anyway, and do you know why? Because regardless of who saved her, I still didn't want my female protagonist to be put in distress at all due to the unfortunate implications! Needing help in a fight? Sure. But outright being captured or kidnapped? Nah fam.

I was honestly thinking about that when the first episode came out. Like, they could’ve just had Marinette NOT SHOW UP in time so the guys take care of things, which at least gives more of a message that Paris wouldn’t go to hell just because Ladybug is a little late or something.

And yeah, the “boys squad episode so gotta toss the girl out” is... sigh.

Anonymous said:

I think the writers were trying to show Chat angsting to show his regret instead of an actual apology. Still doesn't explain why Aeon didn't bring up her death afterwards. Did Olympia delete that from her memory banks?

I guess? :|

I don’t know why Chat can’t just apologize without fishing or trying to earn sympathy. Like JUST SAY YOU’RE SORRY, DAMMIT.

Anonymous said:

If you haven't read Maribat, then you won't regret it. I am not in the DC universe but I started reading it and WOW. Literally every single time Marinette is a badass queen and gets her complete revenge and is actually happy! Even if you absolutely love Lukanette (which I have nothing against) you should totally try it.

Appreciate the comment, but I find it hard to ship other Marinette ships outside of Lukanette. Ivanette is a very loose exception and it’s not like I ship it hard or anything.

Anonymous said:

Despite not being a Lukanette shipper I love you. Why? Because you amazing, so right in literally everything and I love you <33

gkdfjgfdngjkfdg thank you

bat-anon said:

The NY Special made it so that Max is literally the only Black/Brown kid that doesn’t exist to make Love Square happen and that just makes me hate it even more.

I wish you didn’t make me have this realization because I hate it.

At least Delmar existed in the New York special???? I guess???? I dunno, I’m trying here, I don’t recall him doing anything love square centric.

Anonymous said:

I honestly don't mind Alix's outfit as Bunnix! I feel like it fits her, plus she's an adult so its not much of a problem, not saying it can't be improved however. I DO have issues with the designs for the underage girls outfits however....those are very sus

Yeah, the problem I take with Bunnyx’s is that it’s a bodysuit. If there was just more definition, like having actual boots, I wouldn’t complain as much.

Anonymous said:

I actually just really like the idea of the new bee being a genuinely nice person who becomes friends with Marinette. Not exactly close friends (since I like the idea of friendly working relationships without actual personal stakes in them). I also enjoy the idea of the new bee having some small animosity for Chat Noir- just because their personalities aren't the greatest mix. I also think that it would make sense for the miraculous of subjection to be at odds with the miraculous of destruction

Full agreement but we know how much the writers are resistant to have characters go against Chat.

Anonymous said:

Not gonna lie the scene where the girl squad gets akumatized almost makes it seem like they got akumatized on purpose, similar to Manon in Puppeteer 2(although she was a little kid who was probably just imagining she could enact revenge). And why can't they have a uniformed design, like they're a team but wear different colors, similar to the Sailor Senshi(like, Alya's the leader and wears orange, Rose wears pink, Alix wears green, Juleka wears purple, and Mylene wears yellow). It's so boring.

Mood.

Not to mention that WE ARE SO TIRED OF THEM GETTING AKUMATIZED INTO THE SAME AKUMA.

AT LEAST PALETTE SWAP THEM.

Anonymous said:

Relating to the Didn't Need Burrows and Treatment of Marinette bingo cards, have you considered making one for whenever the show fails at girl power? It could say things like "sexualized frames of teenage girls" "boy tells girl what to do" "girls don't get to keep Miraculouses", and "girls are forced to apologize whenever a situation goes wrong". And in the center, it could say "Don't show this to your daughter!"! Lol! What do you think?

lol I feel like I have enough cards, otherwise I would.

Anonymous said:

I saw another post that talked about Miraculous New York, and they theorized that it was rewritten to focus more on Marinette and Adrien in order to get viewers invested in the Love Square again after more people started to lose faith in the ship. Do you think that's a possibility?

I think so. The whole special comes off as trying to reassure love square shippers because of how hard it goes for him. I cut out Marinette’s crushing and it cuts like 18% from the episode, meaning it’s even worse than Season 3 (15%).

Anonymous said:

Maybe the point of the [break-up episodes] is meant to discourage people from shipping Lukanette and Adrigami too?

Spoiler alert: didn’t work.

Anonymous said:

Are we not gonna talk about how in one ask, somebody legit said "(long dreamy sigh) Viperion"? Like same.

RIGHT????

Same.

Anonymous said:

Ml fandom: I hate how Ladybug keeps secrets from Chat Noir! He sacrifices himself for her all the time and she never appreciates him for it! He has EVERY right to get mad at her!!

ML Fandom when Chat Noir does the same thing in the special: ....Wow Ladybug was way to harsh on Chat Noir!! She doesn’t appreciate him at all!! Shes so mean to him!

:|

i hate it

Anonymous said:

Idk if it's just me, but a majority of the fandom is split in two; it's never one or the other "MARINETTE SUCKS AND IS A HORRIBLE PERSON GUARDIAN MARY SUE WHO SEXUALLY HARRASSES" or "ADRIEN SUCKS HE WAS NEVER ON MARINETTES SIDE" but im personally on the latter, but not to that extreme. i hate videos bashing marinette and then never acknowledge adriens faults

Yeah, the fandom gets more divided as time goes on because of the writers trying to increase the drama/tension.

Anonymous said:

I am PERSONALLY offended they gave Luka the snake miraculous. Snakes have such a negative connotation. A lot of people insult Lila by calling her a SNAKE. And now those ML writers DARE insult the best character in ML?! HOW DARE THEY!?????

I adore Viperion but I agree that I first heard he was getting snake and was like, “BUT MY BOI???”

It gets awkward too because other animals like the pig have negative connotations, like how Daizzi basically means “idiot/stupid” and they’re giving it to the freaking blond character, really???

Anonymous said:

I think that Ivanette would be even better if Marinette was plus-sized character.

I see why you’d think that. I just disagree because then it turns the ship into “let’s pair the heavyset characters together because they heavyset.”

Anonymous asked:

On the topic of romance failures and general series salt, my main issue right now is how the series puts so much focus on romantic relationships while failing to consider other levels of relationship or what they affect.

On the L² front I can completely buy Marinette being in love with Adrien. Most of the time she genuinely wants him to be happy and is ready to take a step back for him, however much it hurts. But in terms of romantic love? It. Is. A. Crush! But if we step back from the formula, what is there left between them? Their civilian relationship is held together by a “comedy” of errors and without that there is surprisingly little left. Well, besides two “best friends” desperately trying to make it happen because somehow they lost their individual characters and instead of being friends became matchmakers?

I too like Luka and Marinette together. Their relationship is pretty nice to see and all. But sometimes it feels like it happens in a dimension of its own, like the writers want to make the endgame clear in that the “sideships” can be easily cut out of the big “how they got together”-recaps. I especially miss reactions from and interactions with Juleka. She is Luka’s sister, Marinette’s friend, and IIRC someone aware of if not even a bit player in the great shipping game. She is in a prime position to step up and bring progress on all fronts: She can talk with Luka. She can either give Marinette helpful pointers or go “All in or nothing”, i.e. trying to make Marinette get her Adrien-feelings in order as she does not want her brother to get less than Marinette’s full heart. Similarly, she can counteract “friendly acts” and stop humiliating situations from escalating, or she herself can escalate them in the “All or Nothing”-scenario. Yet she remains basically a background character who gets little attention from the camera and almost no “non-focus identity”

As for Kagami, I may be too biased. *Any* positive Kagami/Marinette relationship is to me what Lukanette is to you. So naturally I have lots of opinions when it comes to her role ;) But can I just say that Adrien/Kagami is the weirdest ship for me? They have a few cute scenes and I think if they’d spend a lot more time together, they’d do each other good but I don’t know how they work. “No Hesitation” Kagami would lob Adrien’s head straight off with all his…everything. If we are meant to take Adrien’s love for LB seriously (and I guess we have to because how in the name of sanity is any form of the stated endgame gonna work otherwise???), how does Kagami fit into that picture as a girl who can hardly express emotions while Adrien is the definition of a  guy who can not stop flirting or goes for all kinds of romantic gestures? Sometimes it feels more like a “social fit” and “Mommy/Daddy approves” kind of deal which is quite the shame! Normally I like these kind of relationships in fictions but they need a solid underlining or good development. One they haven’t and one the series has not been giving to anyone so far.

Yeah, the whole thing with the love square versus side ships ends up feeling extremely forced. Keeping Luka away and forcing Adrien into Lukanette episode are the biggest giveaways, basically a big fat sign that says, “We know Marinette would forget that Adrien exists if she hung around Luka for more than five minutes.”

AND YEAH, KAGAMI WOULDN’T PUT UP WITH ADRIEN’S GARBAGE. I liked Adrimi but it’s definitely more flawed than Lukanette.

Anonymous said:

Watched your opinion on the New York special and I agree with you. It was mediocre at best. It could have been something nice, like if they added Kagami and Luka, for example, so that we can get a bit of development from the new couples on season 4, so that it doesn’t feel rushed when they start dating on season 4. It could also be a good opportunity to see the other temporary heroes one last time, since Marinette technically has the miracle box.

They could have had an epic fight with the American Superheroes, maybe even giving the bee miraculous temporally to Aeon or Jess so that we didn’t need to see their awful and uncreative superheroes designs. It would have been nice if they made something more useful other than being characters that believe that Adrien and Marinette are “Meant to be”, like, we already got a ton of these already, couldn’t we get someone who didn’t feel something about this ship? It has so much wasted potential that I don’t even know how to start. Do you agree with anything I said?

I agree, yes. They could’ve easily thrown Luka/Kagami into the mix (or had Marinette/Adrien stay behind while flipping perspectives or something; flawed but they could make it work).

Anonymous said:

I'm rereading ladybugout and wow... the moment of silence after "chat deserves that kiss" gets me every time. Everyone stopping and just staring because wow he really just said that

Me whenever Chat Noir opens his mouth in the show.

Anonymous said:

I saw the Backwarder post you just talked about and yes, it is so totally ridiculous. They forgot another thing, though. Miraculous isn't just about comedy, action, and romance, it's about embarrassing Marinette. And the fact that almost everyone in the comments was acting like the medicine scene at the end was funny was just stupid and saddening to hear or read about, because it shows how people have been conditioned to hate and rally against Marinette without even realizing it. Granted, there was one lady who said it reminded her of her husband, so I guess that's okay(but all it means is that Adrien will be Marinette's--aka "his lady's"--husband like eeerrrgh!). And there was one person who said they liked that Juleka's advice because "If you're friend isn't willing to commit crimes for your happiness, is she even your friend?". But everyone else liked the ending. And I don't get the person who said we got "Subtle progression with Adrien and Marinette". We're right where we started.

Weeeeell, I understand the “comedy, action, romance” comment because all of those basically boil down to embarrassing Marinette or invalidating her. Comedy and romance goes without saying while action involves her dealing with Chat “Nice Guy” Noir.

Anonymous said:

Is it just me, or does Snow White's "Red Shoes" form look a lot like Marinette. I know, I know, Marinette is Chinese and Red Shoes is Korean, but they still look strikingly similar. They're bodies are really similar, too, but that might just be because animation tends to use eerily similar body types for its female characters on a whole. It's sad and it makes me think of how cute Marinette would be if she was fat. I also think Snow White was cuter than Red Shoes but that's kind of the point.

I think it’s the body type thing but that’s just a guess since I didn’t immediately make the connection.

I agree that Snow White is cuter.

Anonymous said:

Am I the only one who's never liked "destined to fail" characters? Basically this is when characters aren't allowed to be good at/succeed at something or else the whole universe will somehow fall apart. Think of how in The Amazing World of Gumball, if Richard gets a job, the world will be in complete and utter chaos. So he's better off as a lazy, bumbling dad. In Phineas and Ferb, Candace is always trying to rat out her younger brothers but if she gives up or succeeds something bad will happen.

TV Tropes put it the best: "Not only is she not allowed to succeed, but she's also not allowed to stop trying!"(conveniently under the Cosmic Plaything trope). I just don't like it because it shows that the writers just want to lead them on with the promise of success then snatch it away at the last minute. And now we're back at Miraculous Ladybug, where Marinette is humiliated every time she doesn't sign a gift that's for Adrien, and yet when she does, everyone in Paris DIES. Except for...HIM.

you: *mentions Candace*

me: [a million awful flashbacks]

Also, yeah, it’s so hard to watch, especially in “Chat Blanc” because it’s like, “Oh, you want to give a gift to a boy and you dArEd to use your powers for it? Congrats, but everyone else is DEAD and you can hang out with him as much as you want! You’re welcome!”

Anonymous said:

I think it’d become a “faintest idea blackout card”rather than a bingo.

(referring to my “Faintest Idea” card)

We’re getting there.

darkmoonravewolf said:

I hate that everything on that list could happen and very likely will

(referring to “Didn’t Need Burrow”)

Yeah, and it makes me sad :’)

Anonymous said:

That’s be real here. Miraculous ladybug is not a show about Marinette; Miraculous Ladybug is a show about Adrien. Adrien is the real main character.

Notice that when they focused on Adrien in “Lies,” they only cut back to Marinette (IN A SCENE THAT CAN’T EXIST) to have her fawn over him.

Anonymous said:

Is it just me or are Lady Noire's eyes huge? Maybe it's just the green but they seem way bigger than Marinette's

I’m not sure, but considering Rena’s facial structure being different from Alya’s, it wouldn’t surprise me.

asexual-individual said:

With what you've said about Adrien lacking a reason to exist outside of development for Marinette and Gabriel, I have to wonder how different the show would be if Chat Noir's identity was also kept from the audience. Adrien would still be there as himself, but he only gets as much focus as Alya, and Chat Noir's identity is treated as a mystery (a Tuxedo Mask type mystery, but a mystery all the same).

I see what you mean but it might cause Adrien+Chat’s screentime to feel excessive once the reveal happens, because suddenly their screentime gets combined and it’s like, “oh wow so the combined screentime is his then.”

Anonymous said:

I know that the kwami's really only exist so we can hear our protagonists' thoughts outloud (like what the Coraline movie did with adding Wybie to the story). But honestly, what's the point in having magical gods in the jewelry if you're not going to do anything with them?

Marketing with “cute” side characters.

guisendisguise said:

It's funny, originally, I had shipped Marichat in the sense that Chat and Mari start hanging out and both fall in love with the other's supposedly less perfect, more real selves. Then Luka was introduced and I ended up putting both lukanette and marichat at the same level. Then S3 hit and killed any love I had for Marichat. The writers themselves killed the Love Square for me. At this point, it's very clear they are living in a delusion where the Love Square could ever work narratively without Deus ex Machina or Deus Lo Vult (God wills it). Basically, they've gone past scraping the bottom of the writing skills barrel and are now shoulder deep in the hole they dug thru the bottom of said barrel. I'd like to point out that the bottom of the barrel is writing poop and now they're digging thru the useless plastic landfill the barrel was sitting on top of

Uggggh, yeah. Any appreciation I could’ve had for Marichat died in “Weredad.” I already didn’t like Adrien/Chat and then “Weredad” just showed his complete lack of... well, ANYTHING.

cosmostellar said:

Honestly feels like MLBs writers are going based off the "JUST IMAGINE EVERY POC CHARACTER YOU'RE WRITING AS WHITE" instead of, yknow, fleshing them out while developing them also in the context of their cultures and giving them these little things that the audiences who belong to the same minority can identify with. I don't mean "have Marinette walk in qipao 24/7" bcs thats just... bad on its own but man, /some/ casual acknowledgments of her culture would be nice.

Reading the sentence “JUST IMAGINE EVERY POC CHARACTER YOU'RE WRITING AS WHITE” physically hurts me.

Anonymous said:

Ok, I've always thought that Chloe was robbed of redemption (they held it in front of us, but then jerked it away while Astruc says, "She's irredeemable! We thought she was redeemable, but she wasn't :)!" What are your thoughts! Also, I just recently found your blog and I really like it :)

Thank you!

But I have no sympathy for bully characters, so I didn’t want Chloe redeemed. Maybe I’m still bitter about my own bullying experience, but I just wasn’t here for Marinette being forced to forgive Chloe, which is basically what they did until they backpedaled.

The time spent on her was wasted though and that I can agree on.

Anonymous said:

Me: Writes a 1k rant about how the tweet makes no sense as the "mistake" is about motivation and not the critical plot. Also me: Remembers that in MLB the plot always comes back to the romance. Finally me: Wonders why he got involved with the series post-S3 when all the red flags were already everywhere.

Mistakes were made.

Anonymous said:

I'm semi-catching up on miraculous, and- is it my impression, or does Kagami rebel against her mother more in few episodes she's in (even though her mother's influences on her seem to be stronger in general), than Adrien in the entire show? I /know/ that I don't want to see Adrien free himself from his father w/ the desperation I want to see Kagami free herself from her mother and realize that the standards she's held up to are unhealthy and too strong.

Yeah, I’m way more invested in Kagami than Adrien.

Anonymous said:

Am I the only one confused about whether the staff stopped caring and half-asses the series or cares too much and over-produces the hell out of it?

Nah. It really feels like they secretly hate the love square so they have to keep forcing it.

Anonymous said:

ngl I haven't watched any new episodes since Chameleon and I've been getting all that Miraculous News via tumblr to avoid that Marinette Brand Second Hand Embarrassment™

Understandable.

Anonymous said:

If they aired the 6th one first WHAT WHAT HAPPENED TO LEAD UP TO THIS???? WE ARE ON SEASON FOUR WITH TWO SPEICALS, GETTING A THIRD, AND ANY DEVELOPMENT WE HAD HAS GONE BACKWARDS, SUCKED, OR STATUS QUO YO-ED AWAY!!!!! HOW THE HECK DO WE GET ADRIENETTE FROM FOUR SEASONS OF NOTHING?????? I USED TO FANGIRL AT THIS NOW I AM TERRIFIED.

Answer: We don’t get Adrienette. We get forced love square and rushed/fake “development” of it while being constantly confused as episodes air out of order.

Anonymous said:

im sorry But adrienette has been suck in this limbo of one sidedness for 3 seasons. neither of them have become closer, neither of them have confided in one another, but somehow people still ship it? at least luka was able to make a move on marinette lol adrien still repeats the same boring “shes just a friend” line. adrienette is a really boring ship.

lol don’t apologize, you’re absolutely right.

nahte123456 said:

Very minor bit of salt to throw to the pile, but can this show just decide on how strong Miraculous holders are? Yes it's a cartoon and not the focus but in the Furious Fu episode we literally get Ladybug dodging lighting and then Su who seems mostly human and is at least slower then Fu was outspeeding her. It's distracting trying to figure out what is and isn't a serious threat in this show.

The deciding factor in the strength of the miraculous holders is “whatever works for the plot.”

Anonymous said:

At this point the only thing I'm excited for concerning Miraculous Ladybug is when it gets a reboot in like, a decade with actually competent writers

Best case scenario is that Zag goes bankrupt and Disney/Netflix picks up the series and gives it to competent people.

Problem is that the love square has been ruined so badly for me that even a “good” version of it wouldn’t be something I’d be into, but still.

Anonymous said:

Honestly, the problem with having all of Marinette's mistakes result in huge disasters (ex. Feast), is that is gives off the impression that teenagers aren't allowed to make mistakes. This show clearly doesn't like giving second chances to the protagonist, so why would life give one to you? Am I right, kids?

Exactly.

Marinette makes mistakes and suddenly the world is ending.

Anonymous said:

If your gonna watch the show, at least pirate the episodes so the writers dont get your support

Don’t worry, I have no interest in financially supporting the show.

Anonymous said:

ml in a nutshell: wasted potential, then giving themselves more potential, only to turn the rest of it into a dumpster fire

Yup, that’s it.

Anonymous said:

u know, when My Little Pony, Sofia The First, and fanfiction carries out character development, respect, romance, and the main plot better than the original show, especially when the shows mentioned above are aimed more at little girls and the original show is aimed at slightly older audiences... somethings wrong

*sigh*

And then it’s like--people will excuse the show because “it’s a kids’ show” and then I’m just “okay then, why are there actually good kids’ show?”

If shows get a pass for being for children then all childrens’ shows should just not try and be garbage since the standard is so low.

Anonymous said:

ive seen some cool fic ideas/concepts/reviews that made me think: ml could use so much more looking into how a character thinks in some situations. one fic i read had alya in chameleon (i know its been forever since the ep came out but hey) not question lila cus she thought: "hey, lb wouldnt befriend a bad person" w and added a plot line of lila making her think lb was cobsidering replacing rena rougue. like, just a few lines to make them seem better pls?

YES. Like, show us characters’ perspectives and why they’re rolling with the facts that they’re rolling with, otherwise they just end up looking like jerks.

We sort of got it in “Ikari Gozen” with Kagami but of course it was just to make Marinette look bad.

Anonymous said:

You know I’m honestly considering making reviews of this show and if I do I could create hour long rants about the show just from that mans twitter.

Yeaaaaaah, once you had in the Twitter stuff, it just becomes, “okay so this is going to add another hour or two then.”

Anonymous said:

Okay one thing that bothers me is how plain marinette's suits are despite being a DESIGNER. Her multimouse suit it just blocks of color and her ladynoir suit is just grey with green lines. I think the lines are supposed to represent actually clothes. Like the limes on the calves are supposed to make it look like boots but why not actually GIVE her boots. (Right, because she has to have a skintight suit unlike the boys who get some layers.)

THE SHEER DISRESPECT OF HAVING THE FASHION DESIGNER WEAR SUCH A PLAIN SUIT.

It also goes to show who really designs here, like oh, interesting, the girls get skin-tight simplistic bodysuits and the boys gets all the cool stuff--

Anonymous said:

I heard some people in my class saying they watched Miraculous Ladybug for the first time, and they were saying how good it was, and I was like: 'Oh you poor fools. You have NO idea what it's truly like.'

You know what they say: ignorance is bliss.

bat-anon said:

Isn’t it INTERESTING how in Frozer, Luka understands that Marinette is torn between her crushes and continues to support her even though he knows she probably won’t chose him, and in the exact same episode Chat Noir refuses to help save the city because Ladybug told him AGAIN that she wasn’t romantically interested in him? HMMM 🤔😑

dbfgjbdfjkgf

I’M REMINDED OF “FELIX” WHERE IT’S LIKE--THEY WERE CLEARLY TRYING TO SHOW HOW MUCH “BETTER” CHAT NOIR IS THAN FELIX, BUT LUKA WAS THE RESPECTFUL ONE.

Anonymous said:

You know what I want to see? An evil kwami, like they just want to commit crimes. No moral high grounds, just chaotic evil.

That’d be amazing just because I wouldn’t be able to take them seriously.

Anonymous said:

Watching S1 and S3 episodes back to back, it feels like reading salt fics at times, especially in regards to the L². Like, Marinette was happy about weird plans, she both needed and wanted the final push, and most of the time there was at least something coming out of it. Nowadays it just makes her sad, Alya and the girls act *against* her, and we get shipping for shipping's sake.

That’s a good point. The shift from Seasons 1 to 2 to 3 is rather noticeable.

Anonymous said:

I hate how Adrien's busy schedule seems to only matter when it's used to make Marinette feel bad, but the second Marinette has a bit more to do, it somehow has a negative effect on not only her, but also everyone/everything she cares about, like, what's up with that??

I’m reminded of “Lies” here and I hate it. :|

Anonymous said:

Honestly, the way the show treats teenage girls is horse ass. The show treats the teenage girls of this show as if they're stupid, naive, emotional, clumsy, and need a boy to tell them what opinions to have. Marinette is always treated like the show's punching bag and blamed for everything that goes wrong because she's "emotional" or "obsessed with Adrien", Chloe could've been redeemed but the writers would rather keep her a brain-dead Alpha Bitch Valley Girl(even though Gabriel and Felix, the latter of whom is a teenage boy introduced in one episode, get to be treated as redeemable, despite the things they do being far, far worse), and Lila is a conniving, self-absorbed fox.

And even though Kagami seems better, she's still roped into the "girls catfight over an oblivious guy" cliche and so far, all of her akumatizations have been because of Adrien. Whenever Marinette tries to move on from Adrien the other characters tell her what's good for her and steer her in the "right" direction because she apparently can't think for herself, and the writers LOVE to use the girl squad to tell us who Marinette should be with, because they apparently know better than she does.

Plus the show loves to treat all the girls as the same, making them all either fight over Adrien or be obsessed with shipping, as if teenage girls are all one assimilating, homogenized group(also when they treat Marinette as if she's "just as bad as Chloe", rinse and repeat for the other ladies.). Honestly, the show feels like it was written by those types of people who think "teenage girls are the worst" so they make them all mood-swingy, obsessive, showoffs, emotional, and downright clingy.

Plus the way Thomas Astruc talks about the female characters on Twitter is even worse, and only serves to make this more evident: he claims Marinette "has poor control over her emotions"(all the while calling Adrien "perfect"), that Chloe was racist in Kung Food "because she's stupid"(so rather than having that scene serve as a lesson on respecting other's cultures, he just did it to pick on Chloe and make her look "stupid"), that she's incapable of being redeemed, that Lila's unlikable but Gabriel and Felix aren't(even though he claimed Felix was a terrible character and a "cliche", that's not what the show says my guy), and other such nonsense.

Other Twitter users have also called out Miraculous Ladybug and its stereotypical treatment of teenage girls. The only shows I've ever seen do this worse are those pretentious "darker" Magical Girl "deconstructions" aimed at grown men such as Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna, as well as most shonen/seinen shows such as Naruto and Death Note, which says a lot. Honestly, whenever I feel like watching a show with empowering and respectful depictions of teenage girls that treats them as bright and intelligent and actually unique from one another, I just watch Equestria Girls, Liv and Maddie, LoliRock, ANT Farm, Moesha, PreCure, or Sailor Moon. Because the way the show acts towards them is deplorable, absolutely deplorable.

Yes to all of the above. Almost all of the girls are involved in love affairs in some way, the two teenage girls are irredeemable while Felix got a sympathetic backstory right away (Chloe took forever to get hers which is a failure), and Marinette is flawed because she’s “too emotional” (a misogynistic stereotype).

Anonymous said:

Hi, I'm the anon who got upset at the lady who made the "Miraculous Ladybug is a Mess" rant, and yes, thank you zodiacspirit17 for liking and agreeing with my rant! I'm glad someone else saw that video! And ugh, Marinette learning to love Chat Noir? Really? I don't remember that line but I also don't want to go back and revisit it to make sure so I'll take your word for it. Ew. That was actually one of the things I hated about the Glaciator scene. Chat was supposedly comforting Marinette by taking her to the rooftop where he planned Ladybug's date, and yet only Marinette finds out about Chat's crush on Ladybug and comforts him on that(while rethinking her feelings), while all Chat knows is that Marinette's heart was also broken. He never asks who it is, or tries to help her get over her crush even if he doesn't know it's coincidentally him.

I know it's because of the "love square" but it's unfair that only Chat's love problems are directly addressed. Come to think of it, the reason Chat took Marinette to the rooftop...I know he was doing it in-universe to help her instead of intruding on her personal feelings(which might have also been why he didn't ask her who her crush was, he was probably thinking along the lines of "we don't have to talk about it right now, we can just have fun!"), but meta-wise, since we know she's Ladybug, the writers were probably trying to tell her "See? This is what you could've been doing, but you missed it. Shame on you!" That's a huge issue I have with the show: characters will do things in-universe to help Marinette, but the show has a different motive in mind. Compare to how Tikki gave actual advice to Marinette in Puppeteer 2, but the writers intended that for the statue scene so they could embarrass her in front of Adrien and the thousands of eyes watching the show(except we're not laughing.). Even if characters do support her, the writer is using them as props for her ritualized humiliation. And yet Luka is the problem somehow.

If Marinette needs to learn how to love Chat Noir, then it should at least be balanced out by Adrien learning to Marinette. I'm sick of this double standard that "girls need to learn to accept boys who like them but guys can do what they want". Another thing she said was that "Marinette needs to learn to define herself outside of who she's crushing on." NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. You see, unlike Adrien, Marinette HAS a life outside of who she's crushing on: she has school, she has Kitty Section, she has her "girl squad", she has her parents, she has her outside family, she babysits Alya's and Nino's siblings, and she has OH YEAH HER FASHION DESIGNING! I didn't even count being a superhero since Adrien does that, too. She has so many things to do outside of Adrien, and yet the fact that she makes gifts for Adrien or dreams about Adrien or wants to have kids with Adrien somehow makes her nothing but an "Adrien fangirl"?

First of all, she's the bloody protagonist?! That's such a "Real Women Don't Wear Dresses" argument, that she can't have her own life AND be in love at the same time! And somehow her crushing on Luka also means her life revolves around him, too! But Adrien's life doesn't revolve around Ladybug even though he doesn't really have anything going for him in his ordinary life? Outside of being rich, hot, white, and male, that is? What are his interests and hobbies, besides what Gabriel lets him do to pass the time? He doesn't even like modeling! And the Agreste plot is more about Gabriel, Emilie, and Nathalie than it is about him.

And what about his friendship with Nino? He didn't even care that Nino was getting strung along by Lila with the others! What about his friendship with Chloe that also waxes and wanes? Granted, Chloe's not a GOOD person, which that lady acknowledged, but she at least tried to change and has more development than him, the writers just won't let her change. I hate when people come for Marinette for doing literally anything when the show won't let her have agency and progress. It's so unfair of her and I wish they could see that. These double standards are driving me insane and they're sexist(maybe even a little bit racist, too), and it hurts even more when a woman's doing those things.

(I had to cut off some of this ask because I didn’t get all of it, so I cut it off at the point where it still seemed like a full ask.)

I FEEL THE “GLACIATOR” THING SO BAD. It hurts even worse when you realize that “Frozer” has to take place after “Glaciator,” so Chat Noir heard that Marinette has love problems and then ignored it to ask her for advice about his own love problems later on. The total lack of insensitivity???

Also, the idea that Marinette’s life would revolve around her crush on Luka is stupid. It’s the exact opposite, in fact.

Meanwhile, Adrien has so little going for him and the “interesting” parts of him involve who he’s connected to or what his father has forced him into.

[writingsoftheghost]

Caught Up In A(n Illogical) Bet

(Caught up in a bet, but with intruloceit this time)

Deintruality Version Here

Based on this prompt by @kawaiikat54

“Oh, that’s a brilliant idea, Logan! You’re so smart!”

Logan feels his face heat up, “Oh, uhm, thank you, Remus.”

Remus cackles, “Do you mind helping me with some other things? You’re the smartest person here so I wanna get your input.”

Logan’s blush darkens, “Y-Yes, of course. What do you need?”

*****

“Logan, could I borrow your expertise for a moment?” Janus asks when Logan emerges the common room.

“Of course, what can I do for you?”

“Do you think that perhaps my outfit may be a detriment to my goal of gaining acceptance?” Janus examines his capulet critically.

“Hm, I am not the best with emotional connotations, perhaps Patton would be better for—”

“No no,” Janus reaches out and grabs the logical side’s hand before he can turn away, Logan blushes at the unexpected contact, “You have a better understanding of psychology, Patton would merely tell me what I want to hear. You on the other hand tell me what I need to hear. I want your advice.”

“O-Oh, I see. Well, I am flattered that you think of me in such high regards,” Logan’s face is burning, why can’t he just take a compliment? “I think, perhaps, that your outfit has a ‘villainish’ flair due to Thomas’s obsession with cartoons and the way their villains look, but it also looks quite professional, and that has me quite fond of it. I think that maybe, in time, your look will come off as more charming than evil.”

Janus smiles at Logan, “That’s what I’ve been hoping. Thank you, Logan, you’re the best.”

Logan’s face fills with heat again, “Happy to help.” He rushes back to his room, hoping his blush wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.

*****

Janus and Remus discuss Logan’s reaction to positive comments that evening.

“He gets so flustered, hearing that calm of his falter is just perfect!” Remus laughs.

“I know, it’s quite endearing, to see him turn so red all because I thanked him.”

“Oh, that’s nothing, I told him he was smart and I thought he’s burst into flames!” Remus squeals.

“I touched his hand and I swear he needed a minute just to speak again,” Janus counters Remus’s bragging comment.

“Hm, you think you’re better than me, Jan?”

“All I’m saying is that I have a...certain charm with Logan that you simply can’t match.”

Remus scoffs, “Oh yeah? Bet you can’t back that up!”

Janus smirks, “Care to test me?”

Remus relays his idea to Janus, a bet, to see who can make Logan blush more in a week. If Remus loses, he has to take a bath. (“Why do you always bet that?!” “Because you never do it.”) if Janus wins, he makes Remus’s favorite dessert.

The bet began Sunday, it started off simple enough.

“Hey, Logie, how’s the prettiest nerd in the world doing?” Remus coos as he pokes his head around the doorway of Logan’s room.

“I—erm—hello, Remus,” Logan mumbles, his face down, trying and failing to hide the heat in his cheeks. “Can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if you could tell me some interesting ways someone could die in space?”

“Oh!” Logan’s eyes light up

“Well, there’s the obvious ones, lack of oxygen, freezing to death, and the pressure imbalance causing you to...”

Logan continues his list, Remus listens to all of them, asking questions on some. Seeing Logan’s eyes light up when he talks about space is an entirely different experience to Remus.

Later, Logan has a similar experience with Janus.

“Oh, Logan, darling?” The nickname causes an immediate flush of heat to Logan’s face. He turns around in the hallway.

“Yes, Janus?” He squeaks out, fighting to keep some of his composure.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to watch a documentary with me, it’s about psychology, and you’re the only one intelligent enough to appreciate it.”

Logan’s face, which had begun to cool down, quickly heated up again at that. “That-That’s, quite, nice of you to say.”

“I don’t mean it,” Janus says in that obviously lying way he has.

Logan smiles, “I would like to watch the documentary with you.”

*****

The slow start lasts only for the first day. Things quickly start to escalate, Janus starts complimenting Logan’s technique on everything. His posture, the way he folds laundry, just about everything he does. Remus asks for more facts, complimenting Logan on all he knows, and for being patient enough to answer his question. They also compliment Logan on his appearance, the way his hair falls, the light hitting his eyes just so, Janus calls him gorgeous, Remus calls him sexy. Each compliment gets Logan’s face redder than before.

By Wednesday they’ve started using physical touch to get Logan to blush. (Remus was given ground rules almost immediately, “Don’t make him blush like that Remus it doesn’t count”) Janus kisses Logan’s hand in greeting, (Logan squeaks the first time it happens) Remus holds Logan’s hand while he talks, they each play with his hair or stroke his calves while they watch tv. Logan doesn’t know what caused this sudden change to happen, but he found that he didn’t want it to stop.

No one had ever paid this much attention to him! Logan didn’t even know he’d been craving this until he’d had it! They asked for his opinion! And when he gave it they listened! It was all Logan wanted, and the added praise was so much better than Logan ever would’ve thought! The touching was a shock, Logan hadn’t realized how nice it could feel to have someone’s hand in his, or to have someone play with his hair, to have gentle arms wrap around him before going up to bed. To feel someone’s lips press against his forehead when he began to doze off whilst reading on the couch.

Logan tried to think of a reason for the sudden affection, but he was too distracted by how great it felt to receive it to do much investigating. By Friday he’d stopped being shocked when Remus told him he looked incredibly fuckable, or Janus calling him dashing.

Every time he sat down a hand would reach for him, or arms would be opened in invitation, and Logan would blush red and melt into the touch every single time. He’d grown to not only expect the displays, but to enjoy them. But I matter how common it became, Logan couldn’t help but blush each time.

The following Sunday, however, everything was different. When he came downstairs Janus merely said good morning, no comment on the way he’d done his hair. He’d opted for a different hair product, he’d taken to caring a bit more about looking nice since Remus and Janus had started complimenting him. Logan brushes it off, expecting Janus to call him beautiful every time they saw each other was illogical.

But...Remus didn’t say anything to him either, just waved to him on his way out of the kitchen. Logan brushed it off. It wasn’t like he could expect all of that attention to be constant, that was unfair to Janus and Remus. But as the day went on, neither one of them said anything to Logan. He even went so far as to initiate the affection. Sitting next to Remus on the couch while he read, hoping for Remus to wrap his arms around him, or even just hold his hand.

Remus did neither of those things, later Logan tried the same thing with Janus, he got a smile, but nothing else.

Logan began to worry that he’d done something wrong, but they didn’t act like they were angry with him. They spoke to him in the same tone, they didn’t avoid him when he entered the room.

Logan continued to wait, when he went to bed without so much as a hug from either side...he began to really fear he’d made a mistake.

The next day was the same, Logan tried everything, being extra helpful, sitting closer than he normally would on the couch, he’d even done his hair differently and worn a different tie in hopes of garnering some comments on his appearance.

None of that helped, Logan felt sick, he spent the next two days struggling to recall what he could’ve done to ruin it. He’d just discovered how wonderful affection could be, and now it was gone!

By Thursday night Logan has worked himself into a state of such distress that he found he was crying over the schedule he’d been working on. It was late, everyone else had gone to bed, but Logan couldn’t sleep. So he’d decided to be productive, he’d gone down to the kitchen to work at the table, but had ended up dwelling on the situation with Janus and Remus.

Remus entered the kitchen right as a sob rocked Logan’s body. Remus immediately rushed to his side.

“What’s wrong, Logie?” Remus asks worriedly.

Logan’s ashamed at how difficult it is to speak, he can barely get air in, let alone words out. He shouldn’t be crying, it was stupid for him to be crying over this.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby. Come on, it’s alright.” Remus reaches out and rubs Logan’s back, starting to get really concerned. Logan never cried, and he’s rarely seen anyone cry this hard.

“I ap-apologize-ze,” Logan chokes out.

Remus shakes his head, “For what, Logie? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I-I shouldn’t be falling apart like this, especially over something so...so trivial,” he sighs.

Remus rubs his hand up and down Logan’s back again, leaving his hand resting there, “If it’s upset you this much I doubt it’s small, what happened, baby?”

Logan has just enough shame left to blush at the pet name and the softness with which Remus says it. “It really isn’t a big deal, Remus. I’m sorry to have bothered you with my illogical emotions.” He starts to leave.

“Uh-uh, come here,” Remus reaches for the logical side and pulls him back to the chair he was in, “Tell me what has your tie in a twist.”

“It’s ju-just th-at,” Logan takes a breath, hoping to stop the shake in his voice, Remus’s hand moves on his back again and Logan melts under the touch like he always has.

“Take your time, baby. It’s okay.”

Logan nods and takes another breath, “Did I do something to upset you?”

Remus blanches, “What?”

Logan looks away from the duke, “You and Janus seem to be, uhm, upset with me?”

Remus tugs Logan gently to his lap, Logan is still shaking a little and Remus is starting to worry that the force of holding back tears could make te nerd explode. He pushes the morbid image to the side and asks his next question carefully, “Why do you think that, Lo?”

Logan’s face flushes again, he’s beginning to feel foolish. He had been reading too much into it, and now Remus has seen him cry like a child.

“Lo? Come on, talk to me, you’re scaring me a little.”

Logan clears his throat, he tries to swallow his embarrassment, “Apologies, I—”

“Don’t apologize to me, Lo.”

“Er—anyway, I simply assumed that I’d done something to upset you and Janus, as you’ve stopped, uh...treating me in the manner you’d only recently adopted anyway. It’s illogical, my apolo—”

“Logan...” Logan stops talking, Remus looks like he’s in pain, “Is this because we stopped flirting with you?”

Logan’s face flushes a bright red, “I suppose so, forgive me, I merely—”

“Logan, I love to hear you talk but I’m really gonna need you to be quiet for a minute!” Remus cuts in. Logan shrinks, he must’ve really upset Remus now.

Remus feels Logan tense up in his lap, “No no no, hey hey, I’m not mad. Logie, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that I—we—um...here let’s go get Janus and we’ll talk this out, okay? I’m so sorry, baby. This isn’t your fault, this is ours. I promise you didn’t do anything wrong.” He pulls Logan fully to his chest, holding him securely.

Logan fails to hold back another sob and just lie that he’s crying into Remus’s shoulder. “Oh, baby,” Remus whispers, “it’s alright, it’s gonna be alright.”

“Plea-please don’t let go, I can’t-I can’t,” Remus shushes him.

“I won’t let you go, baby. It’s alright, just breathe, sweetheart.” Remus rubs his back, Logan shakes in his arms, Remus picks him up, “Lets go get, Jan, m’kay?”

Logan nods into his shoulder.

They stop outside of Janus’s bedroom door, before Remus can knock though, Logan stops him. “It’s late,” he whispers to Remus, “We shouldn’t disturb him.”

“He’s still up, and we need to clear some things up. He needs to know what happened,” Remus reaches to knock again.

A pajama clad Janus appears in the doorway. “What do you want, Rem—”

He stops when he sees Logan.

“What’s wrong? Is he alright?”

Logan hides his face further in Remus’s shoulder. “I may have overreacted to—”

“No, Lo, no. I’m gonna explain because you won’t do it without blaming yourself for this.”

Logan lifts his head and looks indignantly at Remus, “But I—”

“Shh,” Remus turns to Janus, “We did something bad, Jan.”

Janus steps into his room, allowing Remus to enter. Remus sits down on the bed, he presses a kiss to Logan’s forehead before he explains what happened.

“Oh, oh, Logan, dearest. This is my fault, I should’ve realized this was a bad idea.”

Logan shakes his head, “It was all for a bet?”

Janus’s heart clenches, “Oh, darling, no. We really care about you, we shouldn’t have shown you just because of a bet. And we definitely shouldn’t have stopped. I’m so sorry.”

Logan nods sadly, “It’s alright, I’m just...glad you’re not mad at me.”

“Baby...” Remus brushes the nerd’s hair from his face, “Would it be alright if we went back to showing you affection?”

Logan’s eyes light up, “You would do that?”

Remus feels a twinge in his chest, “Yeah, baby. If we’d only known you wanted this, we would’ve been doing this long before our stupid bet.”

Janus reaches over and tugs Logan away from Remus and into his own arms, “I’m so sorry, darling. Would you like to stay with me tonight?”

Logan nods tiredly, “That would be...wonderful.”

Remus grins, “Can I stay too? I wanna show our Logie as much love as possible now that I know he likes it.”

Janus hums in agreement, quickly moving Logan to the center of the bed, where he and Remus quickly surround him in a hug, Logan yawns in between them. “Goodnight.”

They each press a kiss to his forehead, “Goodnight, Logan.”

—————

Taglist: @idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @kawaiikat54 @emo--nightmaree @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @katlikethesword

[miss-writes-a-lot]

Ozpinweek2021 Day 7: Free Day : Happy birthday Professor Ozpin!

(@ozpinweek day 7! Didn't get them all but I got some of them! Hope this was entertaining or something. Happy Ozpinweek everyone!)

One Spring morning, Nora had gathered teams RWBY, CFVY, SSSN, and JNPR in the common room and announced that she had apparently found out that Professor Ozpin's birthday was the next day and they were going to throw a surprise birthday party in his office.

Now every single one of them were sceptical of this proclamation. Very few people knew when Ozpin's birthday was. Uncle Qrow never disclosed the date because Ozpin apparently didn't like to celebrate his birthday and would have much rather celebrated other's special days. But - Nora was sure in her knowledge and somehow had convinced the group to help her out.

The plan was perfect. Team RWBY knew that Garnet would have to go to her monthly treatments in the bunker for a good chunk of the morning, and Oscar and Maylea didn't have school so they would be joining them as well.

So, they would sneak into the tower around the time they would all head down to the bunker and set up inside of his office. Ren made the cake - Nora argued that a pancake cake would make a much better choice of cake but quickly changed her tune once she saw the many layered cookie cake.

Pyrrha, Fox, and Velvet kept watch outside until they were certain they were in the clear. Once they were, they snuck inside with the supplies and got to setting up.

Yatsuhashi, Sun, and Sun's clones hung the banner, Nora, Velvet, and Blake blew up the balloons (Weiss supervised Nora so she wouldn't pop or suck the helium out of the balloons) Jaune, Yang, and Coco hung up the streamers while everyone else stuck party games and other decorations from the discount bin at the bargain market.

Ruby squealed happily as she looked around the room, "This is gonna be so cool! I hope Professor Ozpin likes it!"

"I'm sure he'll enjoy it, " Pyrrha said, "Though I still feel uneasy about all of this. "

"Well if anything goes south, we can always use Ruby's super speed before we get caught. " Neptune said.

"Relaaaaxx you guys!" Nora exclaimed, "We're not gonna get in trouble!"

"Easy for you to say. How do you even know if he even wants a party? Or that it's even his birthday?" Weiss questioned, crossing her arms.

"Come on, Weiss. Have a little faith in Nora!" Sun exclaimed, "She's doing this for a good cause!"

"Yeah Weiss. Have a little fun!"

Weiss rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to speak but being cut off by the sound of the door of the office opening. Everyone froze in place.

'Oh no! He's here early!'

A heavy boot stepped in, followed by a pale hand, and then a pale face. It was Garnet.

Everyone sighed in relief.

"Oh, thank the brothers. It's just you, Garnet." Pyrrha sighed.

"What are you doing?" The youngest Pine asked, scanning the room.

"We're setting up for your old man's birthday!" Sun said.

Garnet raised an eyebrow, "What are you talking about?"

"Ozpin! His birthday!"

"It's not his birthday."

The room fell silent. Everyone exchanged a look with one another.

"...what?"

"His birthday is in the fall. Some time in the third week of September or something."

The color drained from their faces. Weiss whipped around and shot an icy glare at Nora, who ducked down behind a table.

"Crap!" Yang exclaimed.

"We have to take this down before they get here," Coco said.

"They're actually coming up the elevator now -"

"On it!"

"Wait, no-"

Ruby took off, flying around the room and sucking everything into her tornado of petals.

The teams began to lift off the ground and fly into her petal burst along with her.

"Ru-u-u-uby! Put us do-w-w-w-wn!" Weiss yelled.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." Jaune exclaimed.

"Don't you dare, Vomit boy!" Scarlet yelled.

"RUBY! STOP!"

The red head finally took notice and stopped, making a not so smooth landing on the office floor.

"Ugh...never...never again." Blake moaned.

"I'm seriously going to be sick…" Jaune added.

"Sorry guys…" Ruby said, rubbing the side of her head.

The door to the now destroyed office clicked open. It was too late to run. Ozpin, Qrow, Professor Goodwitch, General Ironwood, Oscar, and Maylea all entered and all taking in the destruction around them.

"What in the world happened here?!" Glynda shouted.

"Ah! We're sorry, Professor - er, Professors! We -"

"It was Nora's idea!" Yang exclaimed.

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"What is happening right now?" Maylea asked.

"I have no idea." Oscar replied.

"Enough! Ms. Rose-" Professor Goodwitch pointed her wand at Ruby, "Explain."

"Weweretryingtoplanabirthdaypartyfor-"

"Slowly."

Ruby took a breath. "We were trying to plan a birthday party for Professor Ozpin, but we got the date wrong and when I tried to clean it up, this... happened."

Ozpin stepped forward, picking up the plate that once held the now smashed cookie cake.

"We're so sorry, Professor Ozpin. We'll clean it up! Right guys?"

"Y-yeah!"

"And we take full responsibility for what happened here."

Ozpin said nothing. He continued to examine the plate.

"Uh... Professor Ozpin?"

"September 23rd."

Everyone exchanged a look of confusion.

"Uh, come again?"

"My birthday is September 23rd. A day or two after the first day of autumn. It's... it's not something I tell many people. Doesn't have positive connotations. It's…" Ozpin paused, a small smile tugging at his lips, "It was nice of you all to do this. I appreciate it. I mean that."

Ruby beamed, "You're welcome, Professor Ozpin -"

"That being said, I'd appreciate it very much if you all put the same effort into fixing my office."

"There it is."

"There's a sizable custodial closet in the main building. Should have everything you need to get started."

Everyone groaned. "Yes Professor Ozpin…"

"Good. Now, come along now, Garnet. Let's get you home."

"G-give me a minute…"

Qrow sighed, going to pick up the disoriented child. "C'mon Nettie. A good nap'll fix you up."

"Ugghhhh…"

Qrow chuckled. "Let's go home."

"Wait! Uncle Qrow! Take us with you!" Yang pleaded.

"Sorry, rules are rules."

"You said you were allergic to the rules!"

Qrow shrugged. The others followed him out, Glynda stomping ahead of them in frustration. Ruby looked back at Ozpin. He smirked as he followed the others to the elevator. She smirked back.

Overall, it wasn't a bad party.

[ichorai]

cellmates ; three ; j.wy

parts ; one. two. three. four.  five.  masterlist. six coming soon.

pairing ; jung wooyoung x reader

summary ; stuck in jail after stealing a necklace off the princess, what happens when your new cellmate with an impossible escape plan comes along?

words ; 4.7k

warnings / includes ; medieval fantasy au, blood and grime and death and everything in between, some curse words, future ateez cameos, future suggestive / mature content, cellmates to (future) lovers !!

a/n ; all i have to say is ...... im sorry ,,, ,,, , it’ll get better i swearr

cellmates masterlist.

The gentle hum of chirping crickets filled your ears as you pushed open the circular window in Yunho’s room. A breezy gust of the night’s crisp air billowed in, blowing pleasantly over your flushed skin.

“You can sleep here for the night,” Yunho had said while shoving rumpled clothes off the bed and stuffing them into a rucksack. “I’ll take the couch.”

“I haven’t slept in a real bed in a long time,” You murmured, dropping yourself onto the thick blanket with a contented sigh slipping past your lips. “Thank you, Yunho.”

The pink-haired man flashed you a sweet smile, and padded out the room with a soft good night. It seemed as if he had given up trying to convince the two of you to stay, reluctantly accepting that you would be leaving in the morning. After he left, you cracked an eye open to see Wooyoung standing awkwardly by the doorway. 

“Good night,” He said. It was the first time he’d really seen you at ease; your face void of dirt and hair unmatted and a rather pretty smile teasing your lips upwards. Back when the two of you were in the prison cells, he never really had the chance to look at you properly. But now, as he watched you happily lounge star-fished atop Yunho’s bed, Wooyoung couldn’t help but realize just how attractive you were. The light from the oil lamp casted long shadows over your face, only illuminating your features all the more so. 

“It’s not too late yet,” You whispered, and Wooyoung sat down on the foot of the bed when you gestured him closer. “I’m afraid if I fall asleep, I’ll wake up back in the cell. And you wouldn’t be there… like all you were was a dream.”

Wooyoung had little else to say than, “I’m not a dream.” And he reached out to take your hand once more, trying his best to comfort you, but clearly to no avail judging by your skeptical expression. 

The both of you could tell the other didn’t want to leave. Wooyoung got up nonetheless, scratching the back of his neck rather bashfully. You wanted so badly to tell him to stay. To ask him to hold you longer. To have him tell you that it was going to be okay.

Instead, you bit your tongue and watched as he left the room, blowing out the oil lamp on the way. The room lapsed into darkness. You shut your eyes, shifting to crawl under the blankets with heavy limbs. The weight of what had happened earlier that day was suddenly crashing back onto you, and you shuddered at the thought of escaping the hands of death just a hair's breadth away. And then you prayed to whichever being out there that would listen. 

Please, don’t let this be a dream. Please let him be real.

Wooyoung couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard he tried, and no matter how ridiculously comfortable the bed was, he just couldn’t seem to succumb into the alluring realm of unconsciousness. 

So, he did the only sensible thing he knew. He threw the woolen blankets off his legs and made a bee-line straight for your room. It must’ve been hours since he left you, wide eyed and scared on Yunho’s bed. It was probably just the guilt gnawing away at him.

He really hoped this attraction he felt to you was purely physical. That would most definitely cause some problems later on if he didn’t sort it out soon. But Wooyoung wasn’t one to confront his internalized emotions head on, and decided to put it off for some other night of existential dread. For now, he was content with just knocking on your door at an ungodly hour of the night.

“Come in,” Your voice was muffled through the wooden barrier, and it creaked lowly as he pushed it open. “Can’t sleep?” You asked softly, propping yourself up with your elbow.

His dark hair flew into his eyes as he shook his head. 

“You can say no if you want,” Wooyoung started tentatively. You could barely make out his figure in the dark, squinting at him through slotted, tired eyes. “Can I sleep here tonight? I can sleep on the floor, I just… I think I got used to you being there.”

Even in the dingy room, Wooyoung could sense your surprise.

“The bed’s big enough for both of us,” You croaked out. 

Wooyoung wondered if you were thinking straight.

“Are you sure?”

“I couldn’t sleep, either. Kept thinking about you.”

“I’m flattered,” Wooyoung said, trying to suppress a grin as you shuffled to one side of the bed to make space for him. It was strangely natural, how he laid in the spot next to you, the bed dipping under his weight. Your back instantly molding into his front, a barely-there hum of content released from your closed lips. His nose was in your hair, arms hesitantly laying over your midriff. When you didn’t give him any sign to stop, Wooyoung tugged you closer and whispered like a love-sick fool, “You smell good.”

He could feel your stomach contract as you laughed heartily, “We smell the same. We smell like Yunho.”

“Just take the compliment.” He grumbled. 

And then suddenly, you turned in his arms, your face alarmingly close to his. His eyes widened comically, heart just about ricocheting out of his ribcage. Balled-up fists rested against his chest; he wondered if you could feel the thundering of his pulse. Alright, so maybe this attraction wasn’t purely physical.

“Tell me you’re real,” Your voice was a mere wisp of a thing. His ears strained to hear you properly.

He replied in a gentle tone that just about had you melting into him with a relieved exhale, “I’m real.”

“So, Virelis, huh?” The words were whispered, a hint of amusement dancing at the open-ended question. Wooyoung’s eyes flicked down to your lips. His vision had adjusted to the dark so he could see you just fine, but now he was starting to wish he wasn’t able to see you. He didn’t really fancy the idea of you kicking him out of bed for being inappropriate. 

“Do you have another place in mind?” 

“No, just… it was unexpected. Yunho certainly seemed unsure.”

“He’ll come around.”

A pregnant silence laid over the two of you.

“You don’t have to come with me, you know,” Wooyoung spoke in a muted tone, unsure. “I don’t want you to have to feel like you owe me some sort of debt.”

Pulling back slightly, you shook your head vehemently, “No! I’ll come with you because I want to. Besides, Virelis is probably the smartest option for us. Considering the possibility they won’t shoot us down the moment they see us. We might look Cerulean, but we can’t change that.” At Wooyoung’s doubtful look, you repeated once more, “I want to come with you.”

Before Wooyoung could think twice about his words, he blurted out, “Now that’s a sentence I’d never thought I’d hear from you.”

It took a second for you to piece together the connotations of his words. You scowled deeply, hitting him square on the chest, “Oh, don’t be a child. I’m going to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

“Don’t go to sleep angry at me,” Wooyoung pleaded with a playful smile on his face. You tried to shift back to your original position, but he kept a firm hold on you, leaning down closer. The previous wavering tension that hung over the pair of you dissipated, leaving Wooyoung in a spur-of-the-moment confidence. 

“Then make it up to me,” You said quite breathlessly, eyebrows raised at him with a teasing lilt. 

Perhaps Yunho spiked the apple cider, or maybe the two of you were just desperate to have some sort of physical comfort, or it was the fact that you somehow managed to look absolutely ethereal beneath the moonlight. Up this close, he could see the small details; the fading scar across the bridge of your nose, the hint of charcoal still smudged under your jawline, and your enticing lips, slightly parted as you stared up at him. 

“And how should I do that?”

“Promise me you won’t snore, and I’ll die happy.”

Wooyoung pulled a funny face, which had you reeling in laughter, “I was hoping you’d propose something else.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Instead of answering, he lifted a hand from your waist to your chin, bringing your face upwards towards his ever so slowly. Your lips met in the middle, warm and tasting faintly of mint paste. Dark hair was threaded in between your fingers as you raised your arms to loop around his neck. Somehow Wooyoung managed to tug you even closer, sealing any remaining distance the two of you had between each other. The kiss started out slow and delicate, but was quick to become frantic and rushed. His hand slipped under the large shirt that you borrowed from Yunho, his cold fingers a stark contrast to your burning warmth.

“We should be sleeping,” You muttered once he broke away for breath, gently leaning his forehead against yours.

Smiling, Wooyoung said with a cocked eyebrow, “Am I really that bad of a kisser?”

“Quite the opposite, in fact. If we keep going, I don’t think we’d be able to stop.” Suddenly, your words become more serious. “I don’t think now is the right time for… this. Whatever this is.”

Wooyoung ran his tongue over the back of his teeth in thought, then nodded slowly. “You’re right… we need to rest up for tomorrow.”

Arms unwound from around his neck, and he let you go back to your original position, the curve of your back resting against his chest and his hand precariously placed on your hip. 

“Y/N,” He breathed out, sneaking one last kiss against your shoulder blade. “Tell me you’re real.” 

“I’m real, Wooyoung,” You said through a yawn. “Good night.”

The glare of the early rising sun filtering in through the circular window hit you square in the face. You groaned sleepily, burying your face into the cotton pillow but to no avail; the room was light and you were already awake, despite your tired muscles pleading for more rest.

The spot beside you was cold from absence, and you sat up whilst rubbing your knuckles into your droopy eyes. Wooyoung wasn’t there next to you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if last night was nothing but a mere figment of your imagination.

The blanket slipped off of you as you clambered from the bed and onto the colder floor and padded out the room to go downstairs. It was then that you heard the faint chattering of Wooyoung and Yunho’s light-hearted banter, the aroma of honeyed banana oatcakes and hot coffee making your stomach growl. Yunho was the first to spot you, waving you over to the table, where Wooyoung was already helping himself to his third serving. 

“Sorry we didn’t wake you up earlier,” Yunho said while pouring you a cup of dark coffee mellowed out with almond milk. “Wooyoung said you deserved the rest.”

Your eyes flickered to said man in the seat across from you, who averted his gaze as a faint red blush settled across his cheekbones. Doubt started to cloud your mind; had you really imagined last night? It had all felt so real.

“I hope you two didn’t get up to anything weird last night. It’s my bed, after all.” Wooyoung hit Yunho on the shoulder with a half-hearted glare. 

Oh. So last night had happened. You weren’t sure if that made you feel better or worse.

Clearly flustered, you raised the steaming cup to your lips and took a generous sip. The plate of honeyed oatcakes was pushed across the table to you, Wooyoung sending you an awkward grin. 

“I packed you guys everything you’d need,” Yunho said in a tone that was much less cheery, sadness flooding his expression. He gestured to bulky packs that were slumped against the table legs, “Food, bottles, extra clothes, medical supplies, some weapons, matches, maps, a coffers’ worth of gold and silver coins, but I doubt those would be worth much in Virelis - ”

You cut off the pink haired man’s rambling by gently placing your hand over his, “Yunho… we can’t take all this. It’s too much.”

“If I’m not going with you, then this is the least I can do. You guys need this stuff more than I do.”

Although reluctant, you nodded gratefully, finishing off the rest of your breakfast.

“Well, it’s time to go,” Wooyoung said uneasily once the food was all cleared away, heaving one of the packs onto his shoulder. Tears glossed over both of their eyes as they embraced each other warmly. “We’ll send letters when we can, bud.”

That seemed to make Yunho brighten up considerably as he swiped away the tears. He turned to you, engulfing you in a tight hug.

“While you two were asleep, I ‘borrowed’ a boat from the fishermen. It’s waiting for you by the river.” He mumbled while you gripped him back.

“Oh, Yunho,” You said in awe, almost tearing up yourself. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

“Just… look after him, will you?” He jerked his chin to the dark haired man who watched the exchange with fond eyes. 

 You planted a solid kiss on Yunho’s cheek, watching his features morph in surprise, “I will. I promise.”

The river was loud. It just about drowned out Wooyoung’s voice, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you hadn’t heard a single bit of what he’d been talking about for the past five minutes. With a strained smile, you nodded at him feverishly. He seemed to be somewhat satisfied at your response. 

Just as Yunho had promised, there was a small boat tied to a wooden stake, half in the water and half laying on the rocky riverbank. The two of you heaved the surprisingly heavy raft fully into the water, panting while dropping your packs in. 

“Are we going to talk about what happened last night?” Wooyoung suddenly asked, face an alarming shade of red, though you couldn’t tell whether it was from embarrassment or from pushing the boat. You almost tripped and face planted into the waters at the unexpected question.

“Well… what is there to talk about, really? We didn’t have sex.”

“Does it have to be sex to mean something?”

You went quiet at that. Wooyoung swung his legs over into the boat, and you followed suit as he helped you in.

 “I don’t know, Wooyoung. Of course it meant something to me. I just don’t think it’s the best time.”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be upset, “Yeah, I understand. We can talk when you’re ready, then.”

The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence as you picked up the damp oars hanging off the sides. Meanwhile, Wooyoung went digging through his pack to look for a map and a compass. Inside the boat, it felt much smaller than it looked from the outside; your knees kept bumping into Wooyoungs’ with every minuscule rock of the boat. 

“We’ll be sailing for a couple days. Should be nice weather around this time. Might get a little sunburnt, but that’s not much to worry about. You aren’t afraid of sharks, are you?” Without awaiting your response, he continued to droll on. “When we get to Virelis, we need to immediately state who we are. They’ll take us in once they realize that we’re on their side.”

“What if they don’t believe us?” You said while maneuvering the oars to keep the boat steady.

“They have to,” Wooyoung muttered firmly. “Why would a pair of Ceruleans willingly walk into Virelis? That’d be suicide.”

“We could be spies.”

“Well, are we spies?”

“You know that’s not what I meant - ”

The boat suddenly jolted as the two of you broke out of the river and spun into the ocean. You struggled to keep hold of the slippery wooden oar shafts, sending a withering glare to Wooyoung, who seemed unperturbed by the disturbance. 

“You don’t have to keep rowing, you know. The wind’s taking us in the right direction. At this rate, we’ll be there in three or four days max.”

Hesitant, you lowered the oars and folded your hands in your lap awkwardly. Were you to spend four days uncomfortably staring at Wooyoung? What were you going to do to pass the time?

As if he could hear your thoughts, Wooyoung said without raising his head from the map, “Yunho packed in a book for you. Thought one of us’d get bored eventually, the idiot.” 

“Wooyoung…” you fiddled with your fingers in uncertainty. “Do you think we’ll ever go back to Cerulea?”

Finally he tore his gaze away from the map, raising a quizzical eyebrow, “Why would you ever want to go back?”

“I don’t! It’s just… it’s all I’ve ever known.”

Wooyoung’s eyes softened. He gently reached out to take your hand in his, “It won’t be for long. Virelis will be great for you, trust me.”

“Have you ever been?”

A sad smile crossed his face, “Not officially, no. I’ve seen it on the horizon while sailing to another country, though.” You thought he’d elaborate more, but Wooyoung opted to stay silent for once. The more he seemed to talk about his life, the more adventurous and exciting it seemed. You wondered why he threw it all away to be a measly squire for some lord.

The quiet between the two of you stretched out for quite some time. It was a comfortable silence, one that you spent studying Wooyoung’s side profile. He knew you were staring, so he took the opportunity to murmur, “I don’t regret it. Kissing you, that is. I’m sorry if I was weird about it before.”

You struggled to hold off a flattered smile, “You don’t have to apologize, Wooyoung. I think I was just scared. It’d been so long since I’ve touched anybody, and then… you came along. It was just so sudden and I felt as if I wasn’t allowed to touch anyone because I’m a filthy, disgusting commoner. Like… I don’t deserve you.” You gestured vaguely towards him, and he captured your hand swiftly. 

“You deserve more than me,” Wooyoung wound your fingers together, pressing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. Then, more hesitantly, he added on, “Not to sound creepy or anything, but while you were showering… I heard you crying. And it just hurt so much to hear you in pain. Even more so when I knew that I couldn’t do anything to help.” 

A small scoff escaped you, “Wooyoung, you broke me out of prison.”

“Oh, right.”

Those were the last words either of you said for a long time. The sun was quick to set hours later, the sky a warm blend of pinks streaking against orange and blending into darker royal purple. You had fallen asleep while reading the little adventure book Yunho had packed, face sticking onto one of the pages. Wooyoung thought you were cute, what with your cheeks smushed against the paper and a subtle pout tugging at your bottom lip. Since he kissed you last night, his thoughts consisted of little else than Virelis and, much to his dismay, your lips. 

By the time you had groggily peeled yourself off the book, blinking blearily, it was already dark. The moon was frighteningly bright, casting a hazy pearl-hued glow onto the waters.

“Had enough beauty sleep?” Wooyoung teased, nudging your knee against his. 

“It’s your turn,” You drawled out through a yawn. “I’ll make sure we stay on course.”

He nodded gratefully, handing you the map and curling into a little ball on his side of the boat. He must’ve been exhausted, falling asleep just about immediately, deep breaths raising his chest up and down in rhythmic motions.

Being alone with your thoughts now had you thinking. First, you thought of Virelis, and the several promises it held. Just one wrong step, and everything would come crashing back down on you. What were you doing, really? Did you actually plan on spending the rest of your life with Wooyoung, running away from Cerulean guards? What other choices did you have? There was always the option of running away by yourself. But you knew you couldn’t do that; you’d gone and gotten yourself attached to the sleeping man on the other end of the boat. 

Besides, Wooyoung was the closest thing you could call family now. You couldn’t just let someone like that go.

He’d been asleep for only an hour or so when you spotted something amongst the horizon. The sky was still heavily laden with darkness save for the glowing moon, sun showing no signs of rising any time soon. Because of this, you took quite some time squinting into the dark waters to see what was there. 

At first, you were keen on brushing it off as a jagged rock sticking out of the water, and turned back to the map unfurled across your lap. But something didn’t sit well with you, a queer gut feeling told you that something felt wrong. So you looked back up and stared some more.

“Wooyoung,” You hissed underneath your breath while prodding the man across from you. “Woo, wake up.”

He stirred and mumbled irritably before pushing himself up. His hair was sticking up every which way, eyes tired and droopy.

“What is it?” He asked, voice groggy. “The sharks won’t hurt you, just leave them be.”

“It’s not sharks, Wooyoung. Look,” You lifted a shaky hand to point behind him. 

There, floating starkly against the harsh glare of the moonlight, was the silhouette of a large pirate ship. And it was turning straight towards you.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Stay quiet, maybe they’ll just pass right by us.” Wooyoung, now completely awake, muttered curses under his breath as he seized the oars, quietly dragging them through the water to carefully push your much smaller boat out of the pirate ship’s pathway. 

It was hard to stay positive, especially considering the fact that the ship was practically barreling towards you at an alarming rate, as if it was gliding just above the waters. As it grew closer, it seemed to multiply in size, causing both you and Wooyoung to suck in a large breath. 

Despite the darkness, you could clearly make out a large flag hung proudly off the main mast, a banner of crimson and gold depicting a gleaming skull sitting in a pool of blood and swords. Wooyoung squinted at the flag, a variety of colorful swears tumbling past his lips. Blindly, he let go of one of the oars to grapple for your hand. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and you let him hold you as your pulse rang through your ears.

You wanted so bad to just close your eyes and pretend like the ship wasn’t there. But of course, that was far too much to ask for. For the first time in a long time, Wooyoung looked to be scared. His grip on your hand tightened and that had you faintly wondering if this was the end. 

“Whatever happens, we won’t be going down without a fight,” Despite telling you to be quiet, Wooyoung supposed it didn’t matter now; they were coming whether you liked it or not. You had nothing to say in reply, so you nodded slightly, heart racing.

Water stirred around the boat restlessly when the pirate ship skidded to an abrupt halt beside your smaller vessel. Several men looked over the side of their ship with dark, glinting eyes reflecting the orb in the sky, stared down at the two of you greedily, whooping and leering. As if they’d done this a thousand times, they threw over several claw hooks attached to ropes, the jagged metal digging into the rickety wood of your boat. You and Wooyoung desperately attempted to paddle away whilst simultaneously trying to unhook the sharp metal from the boat. 

The pirates were much quicker. They hollered as they slid down the hookline with exhilarated whoops, grabbing both you and Wooyoung with calloused hands and rough ropes that cut into your flesh. Struggling, the two of you yelled and shouted and fought against them but, alas, they were used to this. One of them struck you against the back of the head. The world went spinning and you came tumbling down with a mangled yelp, the boat rocking dangerously. 

Spots of black and purple and green dotted your vision. Everything seemed to blur together. You faintly recalled Wooyoung bellowing your name in panic, and then someone binding your limbs together none-too-gently before hoisting you up onto the ship’s deck as if you weighed little more than a feather.

The ship smelled strongly of alcohol and salt and something else foul that you couldn’t quite decipher. You only realized that you were crying when the stingingly hot tears pricked your cheeks as you wailed for Wooyoung, who had also been bounded and tossed onto the deck. His head hit the planks particularly hard, a fresh cut dripping a dark crimson blossoming across his forehead. The rest of the pirate crew seemed to be enjoying this, egging the fighting pirates on as if you and Wooyoung were part of an entertaining theatrical play. 

He was putting up much more of a fight than you did, growling and thrashing and biting into the pirate’s arms until they yelped and pulled away with teeth marks embedded into their skin. He even managed to loosen one of his arms from his binds and reached out towards you, but a pirate stomped on his hand and dragged him back by the boot, showcasing his crooked teeth with a grin.

“Stop!” You sobbed. “Please, stop!”

Either they didn’t hear, or they just didn’t care. One of them hoisted you up to your feet and you frantically kicked at his ankles but he merely laughed and tightened the knots on your binds to secure you against the main mast. You watched in horror as they rounded on Wooyoung, throwing punches and kicks and spitting at him. 

“Wait, no! Please, no, let me go! Wooyoung!” You screamed until your voice grew hoarse and struggled against your bonds so hard that your skin was raw and bloodied.

Eventually, they pulled Wooyoung up to his feet. The sight of him, broken and anguished, bloodied and bruised and exhausted, shattered your heart into a million pieces. You were sure they had broken several of his bones, noting the way he wheezed and shuddered. 

“Wooyoung!” There was a deafening roar of applause as the pirates jeered and taunted. Wooyoung locked eyes with you, despair clouding his features. Your head was pounding heavily and you were crying so hard that you could barely see much of anything. And yet, through all the tears and dirty pirates, you saw his face starkly against the chaos, and his forlorn, defeated expression was what drove the dagger right through your ribs. It looked like he was about to say something, but it was too painful to speak. You knew that if he could, he would probably say, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.’

Hiccuping, you cracked open your mouth to weakly croak out his name once more. 

No. No, no, no. I can’t… I can’t lose him.

Their laughs echoed into the night, a looped song of victory playing broken and distorted in your numbed mind. And just like that, they picked him up as if he was a rag doll… the man that you grew to love and care for… and they tossed his limp, broken body overboard. The resonating splash of the ocean was loud and clear, mimicking the feeling of your stomach plummeting to the ground. 

It’s funny, isn’t it? How you realize how much you loved someone just when they’re gone…

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: purple lilac (shine a little love) 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: usui masumi/gn! reader (not director) 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 1.3k+ words

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: basically masumi working up to a confession  𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was a normal fic which got combined with a flower fic, hence the alt title. full a/n + dedications at the end of the fic.

It was strange. He was being strange, or at least that was what he thought of himself. Even with his headphones positioned atop his head, blasting one of his favourite songs in the playlist, he found it difficult to block out his thoughts. Specifically, his thoughts of you.

You shine a little love on my life You shine a little love on my life You shine a little love on my life And let me see

Masumi was surprised by himself. When it came to Izumi, he had always been vocal about his adoration for her, romantic or otherwise. Previously, he had little to no issue with bombing her with (ultimately pushed aside) proposals, (not taken seriously) confessions, (failed attempts to give her) gifts on days that weren’t even special occasions;

yet he couldn’t so much as speak up on his growing affection for you.

Having approached him for the pure intention of wanting to be friends, with enough persistence it wasn’t very difficult for you to worm into his heart, different from the rest in the sense that it was something beyond the friendship he’d slowly come to know during his stay in the dorms.

“Family, then?” when he expressed those feelings to you some months ago, you quickly turned away from him, gaze avoidant as you closed your eyes. It was a befuddling reaction, but it seemed like you were just taking your time to think before coming to a conclusion.

“Family…” he repeated those words to you, testing out how it sounded but more importantly, testing out the idea of family with you in the equation.

“Yeah, like siblings or something… oh, nevermind! Guess I won’t be calling you onii-chan~ any time soon.”

He must have cringed visibly, because you were quick to laugh it off and bounce back with a different topic ready at the tip of your tongue.

Family and siblings were an entirely different thing.

Masumi hoped you didn’t take it the wrong way, that you took it as him not liking you enough to be on the same level as the Spring troupe or even the other actors in Mankai Company… he wouldn’t spend so much time talking to you otherwise, but there was no way in hell he could see you in the same light as Sakuya or Tsuzuru, or heaven forbid Chikage or Sakyo. Gross. Just imagining himself being all affectionate with the latter two makes him sick in the stomach.

Remember, tonight We're gonna say, we'll never stop We got a good thing going on

Hours after that conversation and finally in the comfort of his room, he pressed his face against his pillow, finally coming to the realization that he was thrust upon a familiar situation once again, similar and yet all the more scarier.

Masumi wasn’t the type of person to joke around or play with someone’s feelings, you knew that well. The moment he finally articulated into words how he felt for you, then everything would change.

Would you feel the same? Yes or no?

He didn’t want to ruin anything.

So he lets the months pass by and though he remains mostly quiet about it, his actions speak differently. He neither wanted to just sit quietly and wait for his feelings to go away (they weren’t any time soon, by the way things were looking), nor was he about to wait for you to make the first move (you didn’t look like you had any plans to). The nosier guys in the dorm quickly found out and tried to help him, but he’d this time… he’d rather just do things his way.

Making you a playlist of songs he thought you’d like, offering to help you pick out new earphones after you broke your old ones, late night calls and messages.

It wasn’t like there was no pay off either.

Everything he’d do, you’d respond in kind.

A day after he sent you his playlist, you quickly followed up with one of your own, a playlist of songs that made you think of him, apparently, and with your words alone you rendered a blush out of him, not that you were physically there to see it. However, his roommate looked far too amused for his liking.

Then you wanted to test your new earphones by sharing the two pieces between yourselves, and though he was more of a headphones guy there was something heart fluttering about the distance (or lack thereof) between the two of you, shoulders pressed together as you listened to the same song (coincidentally, a song from the playlist he made for you).

And on the nights that he chose to stay up with Tsuzuru as the latter wrote the night away, you’d be there a call away, keeping him company for as long as you could before eventually falling asleep. Your steady and quiet breaths, a telltale sign of your slumber, warming his heart as he lingered for a few more seconds before ending the call.

Even if you somehow got the hint and tried reciprocating, as Muku and Kazunari so often insist, nothing would be official until one of you said something.

I know you've heard it all before But I really need you, darling Every day, I need you more

“Do you know about flower language, Masumi-kun?” Tsumugi asked him, on the way home after doing street acts together all afternoon.

He was being pretty sus. Normally Izumi would decide for them, but Tsumugi had specifically requested for the two of them to be a pair under the guise of having a specific idea for an improv, which while interesting wasn’t exactly groundbreaking.

“Only a little bit.”

Tsumugi hummed in response, and the younger boy couldn’t help but wonder what the Winter troupe leader was up to.

“Not everyone expresses their feelings the same way. Flowers are a good example– it’s indirect and subtle at first glance, but the gesture and meaning of whatever you choose make your feelings clear as day.”

Though his nonchalant tone implied otherwise, wasn’t his small talk actually a disguise for something else?

He’d been pretty doubtful of the “confession techniques” suggested to him by the others, from a poem (he’d rather just straight up confess) to a kabedon (wouldn’t that just confuse you?) to getting down on one knee and– (a proposal?);

Coming from Tsumugi, however, the suggestion didn’t seem that bad. Actually, you might like it– he didn’t doubt that you’d at least appreciate both the aesthetic and thought put behind the present.

“What if they don’t get it?” although the blue haired man’s smile remained perfectly serene, but something hidden within his eyes spoke volumes about his true intentions.

“Then you either, A, explain out loud and confess, B, tell them to look up the flowers online, or C, mix some red roses within the bouquet. Nothing’s more obvious than red roses.”

Tsumugi’s pace slowed to a stop, looking somewhere thoughtfully. Even without glancing back, the flowery scent quickly invaded his senses. Taking this route home… even this much was planned, then?

“Masumi-kun, is it okay if we take a look here before going home?”

Can you understand (yes, I understand) Can you feel it's right (I know it is) Will you be the same (I'll do it all again)

When he presents you the bouquet he’s chosen, you make the same expression you did all those months ago, shut eyes and head turned sideways. The only striking difference being the red patched across your face, matching one of the flowers in the bundle of 12.

The sight gives him more confidence, squashing some of his nervousness and giving him the courage to keep talking.

“The meaning of the red roses should be obvious, but you said you liked purple so I added lilacs to the bouquet, too… I thought you’d find them pretty. Do you like it?”

You peeked at him first, before focusing your gaze on the red and purple ensemble as you stumbled to say yes. Cute… if you keep acting this cute, he’ll just buy you flowers every day, then. Anything to get you this flustered again.

You shine a little love on my life You shine a little love on my life You shine a little love on my life And let me see

“Then, do you like me back?”

“ thank you for your hard work today at the flower shop! here, feel free to take home this purple lilac with you~ ”

【 purple lilac 】 represent the beginning of love or a first love, and are a perfect gift for new couples

“ maybe you’d like some more flowers before heading home? ”

-ˋˏflower series masterlistˎˊ- |  -ˋˏregular fic masterlistˎˊ-

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨: for inspiration I listened to progressive rock bands, and I honestly… really vibed with them. Electric Light Orchestra was one of the bands I liked most. the meaning of this song is different, but I decided to just pick and choose the lyrics that have a more innocent/pure pining connotation, please don’t fight me progressive rock fans ue ue.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i realized that going “hey, this fic is dedicated to xyz” kind of put off people from reading huhu, even though i still made sure it was written to be readable by anyone so i’ll just put all the dedications below huhu. again i apologize if you didn’t get your favourite character huhu

𝐝𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: aish, ☔M~, lyd

[mack3030]

Nothing like an adf*y supporter digging their hole deeper...

Now before we get into this, I'm going to make a disclaimer: 1) I've already blocked this person so they can't see this post and reply. The reason being the behavior shown in the screenshots I am going to provide is disgusting, and I'd rather not remotely interact with someone like that.

2) Please, please please, please please, do NOT send hate, or harass this person. They are already getting enough of that due to callout posts made by @llazyneiph exposing their positions on adf*y, but I'm here to talk primarily about OTHER behavior.

Okay, so there are so many things in this post to unpack, but I'm going to focus primarily on one aspect: "For some reason, this community attracts so many fucking evil people, possibly mentally ill, and no one controls them." Okay, now I'm going to give this "creator" a benefit of the doubt as far as translation and cultural ignorance. They are apparently from Russia, and Russia's treatment of mental health as a country is not amazing. This could be a government problem, a cultural problem, or frankly, a bit of both. But, at the same time, it doesn't excuse the fact that they have also had plenty of time to get a bit "educated", particularly when using tumblr. (As many people on tumblr use their blogs as ways to raise awareness and educate others about many issues regarding mental health, sexuality, social justice, etc.) But I primarily want to inform and educate folks about this and inform them that the statements above (and statements like it) are really harmful. And they just add to the stigma that is attached to having mental problems. You see, as a mentally ill person (having anxiety/depression that comes pack and parcel with my autism), it's nobody's "job" to "control me" or "keep me under control" but my OWN.

Just like many adult people who live with diseases or chronic illnesses all their lives, we have to self-monitor our health, make sure to take medicine if we're on it, check in with our doctors, and actively try to fight the sickness we live with. And most of us don't have the luxury of having someone to keep us in check.

My mother doesn't call or text me every day and say "Hey honey, have you taken your meds today?" Because it's MY job as an adult person to manage my body's health and take my medication and see my doctor. It's not my mom's job, not my boyfriend's job (although he's wonderful and supportive), and not the job of my boss, or heaven forbid, my students, to make sure I am mentally healthy. It's MY job. And it's been my job all this time to do so. To insinuate that people who are evil are mentally ill (thus correlating the two) and that mentally ill people need to be controlled is DAMAGING. It's acting like people who are mentally ill need to be put in institutions to be controlled, such as insane asylums, which have a pretty horrible history of abuse/treatment of their patients. This is one of the reasons I ban the word "retard" or "retarded" in my classroom, because of the connotation/correlation to "mental retardation" which is an antiquated medical term. People who were deemed "mentally retarded" were often put in facilities, and often abused mentally, physically, and even sexually by doctors, nurses, and orderlies because they thought (incorrectly) that the patients couldn't "understand" what was happening to them. Words and statements like those shared above are not good and healthy. Please, especially during this time where lots of people are suffering from mental health problems due to COVID and its effects, do NOT let people get away with saying crap like this. Because just because people are sick, doesn't mean they're evil and need to be controlled. It's dehumanizing, and it's sucky behavior. And for any fellow simmers who also battle with mental health issues, my inbox is always open if you need to chat. I'm in the fight with you. Anyway, there's your mental health lesson for today. Please don't make ignorant statements like magic-bot did. And don't support people who make statements like that. That's not okay.

[ka-za-ri]

Personal Assistant Pt. 7 (Finale)

Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Part 4: here Part 5: here Part 6: here Crossposted to Ao3: here

Wow, I’m surprised y’all are here. Really, I’m humbled and honored for all the followers and all the support you’ve given me in this whirlwind of a writing marathon. Please enjoy the last course of this smut fest and lemme know how y’all are feelin’ Taglist at the end.

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader Wordcount: 8,500 ish Genre: Delicious smut Tags: Multiple Orgasms, cunnilingus, aphrodisiacs, demon sex Summary: You get to experience some intimate times with Lucifer as a year with him winds to a close. 

Bonus

After your business trip, you were mandated to work from home for at least a week. Lucifer knew the extent of what you went through and bed rest was absolutely necessary to ensure you would be able to come back to work in top form. Even after a weekend of basically being bedridden right after the session, the soreness between your legs persisted as a constant reminder of just how thoroughly you had been used. So, when you received the text from him late Sunday night to work from home, you couldn’t be any more relieved. Your legs had gotten some strength back into them; but you still couldn’t freely move around without experiencing discomfort and limping. 

 With the holidays looming so closely, Lucifer was rather ashamed that he couldn’t give you proper vacation time off to recover. At the very least, he knew you were safe from prying eyes while you stayed at home and remoted in on your computer. It was strange though, not seeing you sitting at your desk, your back turned to him while you were entering data. He oddly missed turning around and seeing you filing away the monthly reports or retrieving files for a meeting. The office felt empty for the first time in a long time. 

 Caring for humans was something foreign and unfamiliar to him. But, with you, it felt like the proper thing to do. 

 He reasoned that he was simply doing his due diligence to visit your abode with physical paperwork that needed to be reviewed. It also seemed to be a natural thing for him to buy you some food; surely you were tired of cooking for yourself and your food supplies were dwindling from being unable to get to the grocery store. It didn’t cross his mind that food delivery was an option until he was mere meters away from your front door, one hand holding a heavy bag full of takeout and a thick pile of reports in his arm. Regardless of his oversight, it was too late to turn back now. 

 You had expected Lucifer to come over, drop off some papers to go over and leave you to your own devices. You had already shown to him that you could still complete the most of your usual workload in a timely manner, even if you weren't at the office with him. So, when he invited himself into your abode, stepping past you as soon as you opened the door to set down the food and papers he brought, you were taken aback to say the least. After all, Lucifer was a busy man and he had much better things to do than to get comfortable in the recliner that sat in your living room once his shoes and coat were off of him. 

 “It’s gotten a bit nippy out this week. Are you sure you’re running the heat here? It’s absolutely frigid.” He commented, loosening his tie and settling into the seat he had claimed as his own. You stared dumbly at your boss who had just so casually stepped into your home as if he lived there with you and was meant to unwind right in your living room. It had to be a dream,  you had to be hallucinating. Yet, no matter how many times you blinked or rubbed your eyes, Lucifer was right there, in your living room, his tie and the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone. 

 He looked over at your stunned face, smiling a bit. “What? Am I not allowed to make a visit to my assistant who’s been ‘out sick’ all week?” He wasn’t sure what lines he had crossed, but it felt as if his presence made you uncomfortable. Perhaps he should have given you a little more of an advanced notice before coming over. The silence between the two of you grew palpable. When at the office, he was the epitome of control and composed. Humans were easy to predict in a controlled environment where there was a clear hierarchy. In such a casual setting though, he found himself rather out of place and lost. He had only vaguely ever gotten the idea of how to behave; with how you were reacting though, he was unsure how to proceed. 

 “Did you eat?” He asked, changing the subject and gesturing over to the food he brought on the counter. If he had been too forward with getting comfortable in your space, he could at least assuage the tension by changing the subject and moving the focus over to food and not to him. It would be the perfect time to reassess his plan of action while you were distracted by eating. “You should have something before it gets cold.” 

 “I was just about to order some delivery.” You admitted, letting out a nervous laugh. Having Lucifer in such an intimate setting was strange. You could tell he didn’t feel quite as at home as he was fronting and wondered just how you could get him out so he could go back to being his usual self without you around him. 

 “I hope you don’t mind Greek.” Lucifer visibly relaxed, walking over to the bag of food and started to take out the boxes. “A new place just opened up and the marketing head suggested I try it out.” He opened the containers, revealing some of the typical dishes you expected to see, naming each one and describing them. Some dishes you were familiar with; others you had never seen before and with each description he gave, your mouth watered a little more and your stomach grumbled in hunger. 

 At the loud gurgle your stomach gave once he opened the last box, Lucifer chuckled, pulling a chair out for you at the small table, now crowded with more takeout than two people could ever eat. “Eat. I know you’re hungry.” 

 You nodded, at least having the decorum to grab some dishes and silverware before digging into the feast in front of you. The explosion of flavors and textures was a welcome change from the pizza and Chinese takeout you had been living off of for the past week. It was hard to keep your manners in mind when the table was so crammed full of boxes and you were forced to eat with the plate in your lap, hunched over the food like the gremlin that you felt like you were. 

 Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Lucifer pick at his own food, ever composed and nonplussed that he wasn’t actually eating in the most ideal circumstances. The quiet that fell between you this time felt much better, the food serving as the perfect buffer between you and him and you could at least feel a little more yourself with proper sustenance in you. 

 “The year end reports are starting to roll in.” he said once you had adequate time to try everything. Now, you were just going in for seconds of what you liked best, picking at your favorites until your hunger was properly sated. “And marketing has been sending in the proposals of the ads we’ll be running this season. I’d like to go over those with you once you’re done with dinner.” 

 With the conversation focused on work, it was much easier to forget how awkward it had all been in the beginning when he walked through your door. You nodded, already grabbing the first folder on the stack to start skimming through reports. Ad proposals were much more fun to go over than pages upon pages of analysis. The sooner you could finish the boring stuff, you could look at the more interesting things. 

 “My work computer is in the room. I can move it out here once we’re done.” you said, flipping a page and sighing when there were even more numbers you needed to double check. 

 “No need, we’ll just move there.” He said, not realizing the connotations his words had. “You’re on sick leave and you must rest when you can. We’ll just carry on as you have for the past week.” 

 You felt your body heat up at his words, trying to see if he had any intentions outside of making sure you were as well rested as possible before you returned to work in a few days. You could never read him, unable to tell what his motives were, and all you could do was follow his instructions. Once all the food had been cleaned up and leftovers were stowed in the fridge, you showed him down the short hallway to your room where you had your home office set up in bed. 

 As you shuffled to your computer, he could tell there was still a bit of a limp in your gait and there was a mixture of pride and shame. On the one hand, he was glad that your body still remembered the amazing experience you shared with him, Diavolo and Barbatos. On the other, he was ashamed that you were pushed to that limit at all. And then, he remembered the reason he broke you at all in the first place. 

 So he could put you back together just how he wanted. 

 He let you climb into bed and settle the lap desk in place before handing you the first of the reports you needed to go over. Lucifer himself took a seat in the chair he had dragged over from your vanity to sit next to your bed and look over the projections for the next few months. Normally, he would have kept strict office hours; but with holidays, even he had to put in a few longer nights to keep up with how hectic things got. 

 The two of you worked in silence. Even if the location was different, the professional atmosphere was the same as it always had been at the office. The only differences were that you sat in a much more comfortable position and you were much closer to Lucifer than you normal. From where you sat, you got a much closer look at your boss while he worked. His brows furrowed slightly in concentration as he parsed out the plans for the upcoming month. His mouth was set in a straight, tight line whenever he crossed anything out and wrote corrections in the margins. He was beautifully efficient in his work, blitzing through several files in the time it took you to go through one. 

 You heard stray cats mewling from the cold outside at some point, breaking your concentration and you looked at the clock on your dresser. It was much later than you thought it would be, and you still had ad proposals to look through. Sighing and setting the reports to the side to look over during the weekend, you picked up the folders filled with ad storyboards. “Are you going home soon?” You asked, looking up at Lucifer who just finished the last of his work. 

 “Oh, I was waiting for you to finish so we can go over the ad proposals together. I’d like to hear your opinions on them in real time.” He said. Lucifer shifted from his place in the chair next to your bed to sitting beside you on your bed. You blushed, moving aside so he had ample room and got comfortable. 

 In this new position, you could feel the warmth of his body right next to yours. It was a distraction on its own, right alongside the familiar smell of his cologne. He handed you the first of the proposals, giving you a few minutes to look through it before asking for your thoughts on it. 

 What focus you had earlier was completely lost from being so close to Lucifer. It felt like an eternity since the last time you were in the office and having him right beside you, talking business had your mind and body in conflicting positions. While you struggled to pay attention to his words and stared at the papers in front of you, Lucifer smirked, knowing just what kind of effect he was having on you. 

 “So, do you think we should run it?” He asked nonchalantly leaning closer so that he could have a clear view of the storyboard. 

 You swallowed, trying to ignore how his voice sounded and how you could feel his breath ghosting across your neck. It was time for work, not time for your body to crave his touch, his kisses, his… everything. Stop. You blinked, turning the pages back and forth before voicing your thoughts. “I think the message of this ad is alright, but the target audience is off. If I saw this, I wouldn’t know what it’s trying to sell until it’s too late and I’m bored with it.” 

 He nodded, agreeing mostly with your opinion and closed the file after writing down your comments. “Alright, what about this one.” He said, pulling up the next one and letting you go through it. 

 Your eyes scanned the script and you immediately grimaced at how cheesy the writing was. You instinctively wanted to reject it and move onto the next one. However, your morbid sense of curiosity had you reading further and analyzing everything else in the file. In the end, your gut feeling was correct and you wholeheartedly turned it down from being produced. “Unless you want to lose half of your clients, I’d say bin that one.” 

 He chuckled, not bothering to write any notes on it, knowing that it wouldn’t go any further. “And what about this one?” he asked, putting another file on top of your lap desk. 

 You flipped through, engrossed in the storytelling and the script, rather shocked at the proposed budget to shoot an ad like this. You nodded, thinking through the allocated funds for the rest of the year and calculated if it would be feasible to go forward with the project. You crunched a few numbers, actually invested in the proposal and didn’t notice just how close Lucifer had gotten until his hand snuck its way under the sheets covering your legs and stopped at your thigh. 

 “What do you think?” He asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your thigh and your brain ceased to function for a moment. It felt like an eternity had passed since the last time he did anything like this to you. You looked over to him and smiled, trying to go back to the subject at hand, though your brain refused to process what he was asking you. 

 “It’s nice…” You finally managed to say. 

 “Is that all?” He asked, moving his hand further up and brushing his fingers against the apex of your thighs. “You seemed to be so interested in it, but it’s just ‘fine’?” 

 You cleared your throat, hoping it would reset your thoughts; but your brain was stuck in a constant feedback loop that refused to get over what Lucifer was doing to you. “It… it’s got good parts.” 

 Lucifer smirked, nodding at your answer and continuing his questions as if his hands weren’t teasing you. “Tell me more.” He encouraged, slipping his hand past the waistband of your shorts to rub your labia. “I’m interested in your thoughts.” 

 “I uh.. W-well.” You stuttered, swallowing hard and looking at him pleadingly. You were still sore but the way he was so soft with his touches did things to your libido and your heart. “Well, it fits the mood for the season…” You started, touching on the most basic things to get your mind in the right state. 

 “Yes, I did tell you these were proposals for the holiday season. It’s obvious it would fit the mood.” His lips brushed against the shell of your ear and his teeth nipped at your earlobe. “Come on now, your analysis for all the others was so thorough, what happened?” he drawled, smiling wickedly, knowing exactly what was making your brain stutter. His fingers parted your lips in turn making you unconsciously spread your legs for him to get easier access. 

 You bit your lip, using the pain to ground your focus to the task at hand. “Well, the year has been rather rough financially for a lot of people.” You said through gritted teeth. “Showing how they’re able to… ah--” Whatever you were about to say flew right out of your mind when his finger brushed against your clit. You gasped, your whole nether region was still so sore from the last time, but your body was quickly craving more; and the only way to get that was to work. “We’re able to show people that they can… they can afford to celebrate on a budget… Ah… Lucifer…” you whined, rolling your hips up and gasping at how stiff all your muscles were. The sudden jolt of pain keeping you from reacting the way you wanted to. 

 He hushed you, kissing your jaw and teased your nether lips further with his fingers, running them up and down your slit which was quickly becoming wet from his ministrations. You whimpered, hating how you were being forced to sit still due to your own body’s limits. 

 “Yes, I’m listening still.” He replied nonchalantly, trailing his kisses down your neck and nipping the skin there with his teeth. “I’m concerned about the budget they’ve set for this ad… your thoughts on that?” 

 You gulped, amazed that he was still asking questions about the damn ad as if his fingers weren’t coated with your essence at that very moment. You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself but not doing a very good job at it. “We-well… initial calculations say that it’s not something that can be done right no--- ahh…” You gasped in pleasure when you felt firm pressure on your clit, his finger rubbed circles around it and made you see stars. “Right now… b-but if we reallocate funds from the IT department that submitted their final budget for the year and th...they have a surplus, we can manage….” 

 “Oh? That’s very good news then…” Lucifer smiled, loving the way you struggled to keep yourself composed while he unraveled you bit by bit with his fingers. Tentatively, he probed your entrance, wondering how well you had healed over the week. When you yelped in pain, instinctively closing your legs against that touch, he stopped immediately. “This was my favorite out of all the ones submitted, I’m glad that you approve of it as well.” 

 Lucifer went back to teasing your folds, making you forget about the pain and put your body back into the relaxed, aroused state it had been in before. Now that he knew your limits, he was free to skirt them right at the edge, teasing you until you squirmed with pleasure. “I’ll let Marketing know the good news over the weekend so they can start the project as soon as possible.” 

 “I’m sure they’ll be very happy about that.” 

 “Indeed they will be. Final thing, I just need you to sign off on these reports and I’ll be on my way home.” He said before dropping a sizable stack of papers in front of you. “I need them right away so I can submit them over the weekend and get underwriting to process them first thing next week.” He explained. His touches slowed to a halt and you felt the fog of pleasure lift a little. Now though, you ached for his continued caresses and you whined loudly when he pulled his hand out from under the sheets. 

 “Do as you’re told and you’ll be rewarded accordingly.” He stated firmly, all the while making the most lewd show of licking his fingers coated in your slick. 

 Never in your life had you started reading boring documents so quickly. You were skimming words, processing them, but just barely, all to get to what you were promised. Even if your body ached and screamed in protest, what Lucifer had teased you with was too tantalizing to pass up. 

 He smiled, planting a soft kiss at your temple before leaving your side. You startled, looking up at him with pleading eyes, wondering if he was leaving for the night. “I’ll be right back…” He reassured you with a self satisfied smirk. 

 You wondered what he meant by those words for a brief moment before his actions did all the explaining as he ducked his head under the sheets and nestled himself between your legs. You swallowed, parting your legs for him after he slid your shorts and panties off. You could feel his warm breath on your inner thighs, traveling higher and higher until the tip of his nose brushed against your pussy and you whined softly at the contact. 

 There was still an important task to be done and you had to see it through. All the while Lucifer happily lapped at your core. His hands firmly at your thighs to keep your legs parted for him. His tongue traced your slit slowly and you caught your breath with each pass he took. The words on the pages in front of you had no meaning, but you kept reading them anyway. 

 The lewd sounds of him licking and sucking your folds were muffled under the sheets, yet they were still loud enough to be the only sounds your ears picked up on. Your breathing came out in stuttered breaths as you turned the last page in a report and mindlessly signed your name. Closing the file and moving on to the next one, you felt Lucifer press the flat of his tongue all along your pussy, spreading your labia and just brushing past your abused hole. At that, you moaned loudly, your hips jerking at the contact and sending pain shooting across your sore muscles. However, when you felt the tip of his tongue circle your clit, the pain dissipated and all that was left was a delicious soreness which mingled with the pleasure. 

 It was so hard to focus on your work, his tongue worked you into a frenzy, leaving you shuddering and moaning his name. You came as soon as you finished signing off on the second report. There were three more to go in the stack and you wondered if you could cum once for every one that was left. It would be perfect motivation to keep working. 

 No matter how many times your body was being pushed to the point of overstimulation, you could never get used to it. The way every nerve in your body seemed to vibrate with every touch and made you twitch in pleasure always felt new; and you couldn’t get enough of that euphoria. You had never been made to work through that state, but it was a test of your willpower now, going through reports while Lucifer’s tongue worked you  into orgasm over and over again. 

 You felt like it took hours to complete reading everything. However, when you glanced up at the clock, barely an hour had passed and you were a quivering mess in your own bed, your boss between your legs, lazily licking your essence off your thighs as you came one last time, signing the last report off. “I… All the reports are done…” 

 You hated how cold you felt when he unburrowed himself from under your sheets. You could see your essence glistening on his lips and his chin, his eyes glowing that deep red color that made your heart skip a beat. “Very good job.” He praised, picking everything up and gathering it into his arms. He kissed the top of your head, making you feel dizzy from his praise and the number of times you came from just having his mouth attached to your pussy for an hour. “I’ll see you on Monday.” He said, preparing to leave. 

 A small part of you was heartbroken he didn’t want to stay. “Yeah… I’ll see you Monday…” You said weakly, smiling wistfully at his retreating form. 

 ~~

 A year to a human was no insignificant amount of time. As an immortal, this was the hardest concept for Lucifer to grasp. Yet, after having you around for a year, it felt natural for him to celebrate the time he had spent with you. 

 You expected work to be piled up when you got back to the office. However, with your absence and also the general hectic nature of the holidays approaching, you were swamped with work. Staying late to catch up and working yourself into an exhausted heap, there were nights where you simply fell asleep on one of the couches in the lounge area so you didn’t have to worry about losing time with your commute. 

 Even if Lucifer wanted you to slow down, the corporate world and human greed made it impossible. You weren’t the only one who worked to the bone. Even he had to pick up a fair amount of extra work to ensure the year ended smoothly. The last three months that year were a blur, you barely remembered who you talked to or what you did. All that mattered was making sure the company ran as smooth as possible. 

 So when the worst of it was all over and the department parties began, it felt as if the whole building got to sigh in relief now that the storm had passed. You were invited to a fair number of new year celebrations, both you and Lucifer’s schedules were filled with more parties than meetings. Seeing all the employees under his wing celebrate another successful year with him warmed your heart. It was a rare opportunity to see him interact with others and seeing him in such a joyous setting made your heart swell with pride. 

 With the last of the company parties out of the way, you were finally able to release the sigh of relief you had been holding for months. As soon as you returned to the office, it was as if a weight had been lifted and you were free to at least pretend the workload would lessen as the year rolled over. You were about to start packing your things up when you noticed a parcel on your desk. Curious, you opened it and it revealed a beautiful sparking black and red gown. You looked back at Lucifer who was leaning against his desk, watching you for your reaction. “You didn’t think I’d plan a celebration for the two of us now, did you?” He sauntered over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We count as our own department, right?” 

 “Of course… How could I forget.” You laughed, running your hand across the delicate fabric, marveling at how it shifted in the light. 

 “Go on, get dressed, I’ll get the rest of the preparations ready.” 

 You couldn’t have run into the bathroom any faster. Your legs quivered a little in excitement and you nearly tripped out of your work clothes before shimmying into the black and red number you had been gifted. You were surprised at how well it fit you. Like a glove, it hugged your every curve in the right way to accentuate it. The fabric shimmered with every movement, making it look like you were walking through smoke. It felt odd to be in such a lavish dress and have nothing else to match it. 

 You ran your fingers through your hair, rearranging it in a way you thought framed your face a little better to accentuate the dress. You wanted to touch up your makeup, but had neglected to bring any with you in your rush to get changed. You would have to make do with what you had. Turning this way and that, you took one last look in the mirror and accepted the fact that it was as good as it was going to get with what you had. 

 Stepping back out into the office space, you gasped at how quickly Lucifer had managed to transform it. There was a clear hint of magic in the air, there was no other way to explain the softly glowing orbs that illuminated the room in a warm light. They floated through the air, suspended by nothing and fueled by whatever magic Lucifer had put into them. A table for two had been set up in the time it took you to get dressed and what looked like a delightful meal awaited you. Even Lucifer had changed his usual black and grey work suit to something with a little more red in it to match you. 

 Once again, he was waiting for you while leaning on his desk. As soon as he saw you, he picked up a pair of champagne flutes which sat next to him on his desk. He walked over and offered you the drink, a soft smile on his face. “Courtesy of Barbatos.” He explained, gesturing at the plates of food on the table. “He felt bad about his first impressions with you and wanted to make up for it. So, lucky me, I get catering from the best chef I know for this party.” 

 You giggled slightly, taking a sip of the champagne. “I hope that doesn’t mean that you expect me to cook for you in the future as your assistant. I’ll have you know the extent of my cookery knowledge will be phoning Barbatos up and asking him to deliver something for you.” You joked. 

 Lucifer let out a genuine laugh, leading you over to the table and helping you get seated. “Oh no, I don’t expect that from you at all. But, I’ll take note of that in case I change my mind later.” 

 Truth be told, though the food presented was some of the best you had ever eaten, being in close company with Lucifer was even better. For once, conversation didn’t revolve around work, instead, he regaled you with tales of where he came from and all the troubles he had to get Diavolo out of. The chatter and the good food filled your heart and your soul; you didn’t think you would ever get to see this side of Lucifer, but you were eternally grateful for the chance to witness it. 

 “Ah, the last thing. You can’t end a good meal without dessert.” Lucifer got up and reached for a box on his desk. Coming back, he presented you with an array of chocolate coated strawberries. “Please, help yourself.” he encouraged, turning the box to you. “I have a bit of an allergy to them, so they’re all yours.” 

 You tentatively took one, feeling rather guilty that Lucifer wouldn’t be able to join you; however, with a little bit of coaxing, your worries were laid to rest and you happily bit into the fruit.  Lucifer watched your expression of joy as you indulged in one of your favorite treats. The way you made such happy sounds when enjoying something had him entirely amused. All the while, a small, knowing smile played at his lips. “They’re not going anywhere. You can take your time.” He said when he noticed just how quickly you were devouring them. 

 In an attempt to pace you, he pulled the box away from your grasp, plucking one of the strawberries from it and offered it to you. He looked at you expectantly, an eyebrow cocked up as he enticed you to lean in and take a bite. 

 You blushed, flustered that he would be feeding you dessert in this way. There was a distinct intimacy in how he delicately held the fruit out to you with one hand. His other hand cupped below it to catch anything that might fall. You obeyed after a moment of hesitation, leaning forward and taking it into your mouth. Somehow, just from having Lucifer present you dessert in such a way had dessert tasting so much sweeter to you. 

 You were halfway through the strawberries when you realized something felt off.The room felt warmer, the floating lights pulsed in a way that cast a halo around Lucifer, somehow making him look angelic to you. You thought it was because you were too tired after a whole week of festivities. It must have been past your normal bedtime and your body wanted to rest. At least, that’s what you thought was the case. But when he spoke again and his voice seemed to penetrate your whole body, sending shivers down your spine and pooling right to your core; you knew it had to be something else. 

 “Shall we dance?” he asked, getting up after he had finished feeding you what was left of the box of sweets. He held his hand out expectantly; with a little bit of magic, soft music filtered through the room and set the mood. While you struggled to comprehend what was happening to your body, you mindlessly followed his directions. All your nerves tingled, from the tips of your fingers to your scalp, everything seemed to vibrate with a heat and a need that built itself out of seemingly nowhere

 The moment he placed his hand in your own and wrapped his arm around your waist, things started to click and your whole body heated up further at the realization. Your eyes blow wide open and your lips parted in a perpetual pant as he nonchalantly lead you in a slow dance, circling the empty area of the office to the beat of the soft music. You followed him in a haze, barely noticing your body move, a practical rag doll in his arms as he spun you around and watched your pupils get ever wider and the flush on your cheeks get ever deeper. 

 You were so hot and bothered in such a short period of time, it was absolutely overwhelming. Your hands shook in his, your mind barely able to comprehend the music as it was singularly focused on his warmth, his smell, his voice, his everything that was so close to you. You couldn’t look up at him, ashamed that with every dance step you shared, your essence flowing so freely from you was being smeared along your thighs and the back of your legs. 

 He knew what he had done, you could tell with the way the corner of his lip turned up. He was trying so hard to hide that self-satisfied smirk he always had on whenever you were right where he wanted you. You were so wet and ready for something other than the innocent game he was playing; but you knew better than to rush him. So you held onto your slipping control, pretending everything was alright when your body screamed to be used and not teased. That control disintegrated as you could smell your arousal while you dance; you knew there was no way he missed that smell either. 

 “Is something the matter?” he asked, his voice full of faux concern after the second time you circled the room. “You seem so out of it.” 

 “It’s just… It’s hot, Lucifer.” You said, clinging onto his lapels and leaning into him. With his arm no longer around your waist, you couldn’t seem to keep yourself upright. You could hear his heart beating as you pressed your face against his chest, steadying yourself. “It’s… I don’t know what happened, I’m just, so hot…” It was a lie, you knew exactly what happened, what those strawberries were laced with, but you couldn’t say it out loud, not when you were so affected by his sneaky little plan. 

 “Oh dear… Are you coming down with something?” He asked, gently guiding you to sit down where you stood. “Are you feeling ill? Are you hurt?” 

 Yes, you were hurt, your whole body ached in need and he was playing around like he didn’t have any idea what he had done to you. You whine, pulling the skirt of your dress up, a wave of cool air offering you a bit of relief on your heated body. “I hurt… right here.” You said, spreading your legs apart and giving him a clear view of the wet mess you had become in such a short time. “It’s hot… and I hurt…” 

 Your lips and throat felt dry, your whole body flushed and heated to a point where you wanted to tear off the fancy dress and just dunk yourself into a vat of ice water. You needed relief that only he could give you. Lucifer’s face of concern changed drastically the moment you revealed yourself to him and that sadistic smile you knew so well spread across his face. 

 “Oh now, that is a problem…” He murmured, pressing a finger against your soiled panties and rubbing his finger up and down to mold the fabric to your slit. “But… I would hate for you to leave the party so soon.” He drawled, putting on a dramatic pout. “I was so sure you would enjoy your time, is it not to your liking?” He pulled the skirt back down, earning a desperate whine from you; but you didn’t protest. There was a promise of satisfaction in the lilt of his voice and you were willing to go through the ends of the world at that point to get to it. 

 You crawled into his lap, rubbing your face against his crotch in a futile attempt to get him to the same playing field as you were. But, he was firm, preventing you from getting what you craved and helped you back up on your quivering feet. The music had stopped and the lights dimmed, giving you a sense of security. You leaned against him, tears starting to form as your desire became the only thing you could think about. You wanted him so badly. “What else do you have in mind for tonight?” You asked, your voice shaking and you looked up at him. 

 “Just some games....” He replied casually, leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on your lips. Just the brief contact along sent a massive wave of arousal through you and you saw stars for a moment. “Mainly, I want to see how long before the special ingredients in those strawberries really kick in.” 

 Your eyes went wide. If this wasn’t the brunt of the effects coursing through your body, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. There was no way it could get any more intense than this, yet the way he spoke hinted only at a high that you hadn’t felt before. He chuckled, burrowing his head at the crook of your neck, kissing your sensitive, heated skin and you were helpless to stop him. Your whole body spasmed in need as your nerves were caressed and teased. It lost feeling at the tip of your fingers and your arms fell limp to your sids as you were completely swept away from him. 

 He didn’t need to do anything more than grab one of your breasts, kneading it experimentally before your tender nipples sent enough pleasure signals through your body to have you cumming. Your knees gave out and you sank to the ground, gasping as you rode out the sudden climax. The edge of your vision blurred and your ears rang as you caught your breath. Looking up, you saw Lucifer with that stupid smirk on his face, his eyes glittering and a noticeable bulge growing in his pants. You reached up to nuzzle it, burrow your head against the thing you crave and took in his musk. “Please… I need you…” You begged. “I need you right now…” 

 Those were the words he had been waiting to hear from you. Just the sound of your pleas were music to his ears and did more for his libido than you could ever imagine. He brought you back up on your feet, kissing you deeply and swallowing all the delightfully lewd moans that came from your throat. His hand laced into your hair at the back of your head kept you right where he wanted as he took the prize he had waited all day for. “Then you shall have me.” He said, licking his lips menacingly once he broke the kiss. 

 You were ready to sink to your hands and knees and let him use you as he saw fit. However, he brought you out of the office and into the elevator instead. You blinked in confusion until you saw him wave a black card over the scanner at the elevator, requesting for a floor that you never accessed before. It wasn’t until you stepped out that you realized he had brought you to the top most floor to his own abode. 

 There was no time to admire the great view that the floor to ceiling windows had of the city. You weren’t in the right mind to notice the collection of fine art or the practical furnishings that decorated his abode. All that mattered was the beeline the two of you made to his bedroom. Even if you wanted to take a second to soak in your surroundings, Lucifer gave you no time to do so, nearly throwing you into the massive bed in the room. You let out a little yelp of surprise when you hit the silky sheets; but that was quickly replaced with your need to feel his hands on your skin. 

 Now that he had you in his own space, in the privacy of his own home; Lucifer had the freedom to act as he wished. The first order of business was to help you out of that slinky number of yours. It had served its purpose and now he was ready to move onto looking at the most beautiful thing he possessed. He chuckled darkly, sliding the straps of the dress of your shoulders, turning you over just long enough to pull the zipper down to reveal your lacy underthings. As soon as the dress fell to the floor, it took no time at all for him to expose the rest of you by quickly removing your panties and bra.

 Even if it took mere seconds to divest you of all your clothes, it felt like an eternity to you. The drag of the fabric across your skin made you shiver. His featherlight touches made you moan and when he finally pulled away to witness your nude form, the way he licked his lips made you shiver in anticipation. 

 Without clothes, the heat of your body was more bearable; however, it did nothing to quell your pussy’s need to be stuffed full with his cock. Spreading yourself wide once again, you beckoned him to take what you knew he wanted. This time, he was more than happy to oblige to your request. His clothes seemed to evaporate off of him; likely a result of some magic, but you didn’t care  to discuss the details on how he removed his clothes. What you cared about the feeling of his weight above your own and the fullness you felt whenever he entered you. 

 Your hips levitated off the bed as soon as the tip of his cock started to tease at your folds. “Please, don’t play with me like this, Sir.” you cried, clutching onto the sheets below you as he made slow  passes up and down your slit. He chuckled darkly, pushing you just a little further before he finally, gratefully put the tip of his cock into you. 

 Just at that, you could feel your inner walls clenching around him at your entrance, wanting to draw him in  further into you. With how busy you had been with work and how much time he had given you to recover since being impaled by Diavolo and himself, it had been an eternity and a half since you last felt him fill your needy hole with his dick. A mixture of curses and his name fell from your lips as you hungrily took every inch of him. He was so terrible, taking his time to make the first pass in you; but it was the most fulfilling experience when he was fully seated inside of you. Your body molded itself around him, clinging to him for dear life as you rutted against his hips, begging for stimulation.

 He didn’t want to torture you any further, after seeing your sweet face scrunch of up pure pleasure once he fully sank himself into you. Now, what he wanted was for your body to memorize just how good he could make it feel; and that meant fucking you right into his bed. The pace he set was just enough to bring you to the precipice of an orgasm with a few thrusts. “I know you want to cum…” He growled into your ear. “Feel free to do as many times as you want tonight.” 

 As soon as the permission was given, you spasmed around his cock still thrusting into you. You screamed his name, the sounds of sex and your moans filling the room as he picked up the pace and slammed his hips into you harder as you climaxed. Fucking you while your inner walls fluttered in orgasm never failed to bring him close to the edge and he was losing himself as well to the throes of pleasure. 

 You counted maybe two or three more orgasms before his own hips stuttered and his pace became erratic, his own release coming soon. You wrapped your legs around him, drawing him closer to you until his own hips stilled and he spilled his seed into you. 

 The brunt of what was in the strawberries finally hit you and the need that roiled in your blood intensified, making you keen and milk him hungrily. He pulled out of you, watching his cum drip out of your hole before taking a finger and slowly working it back into you. The sex was already mindblowing and your body was telling you that it was getting tired of being so overstimulated; but, it wasn’t enough. You wanted more and you pulled him in for a searing hot kiss full of tongue and teeth. “I want all of you. Give me that demon cock of yours. Fill me.” You demanded in between kisses. “Please, I need it…” 

 You heard him chuckle darkly before he agreed to your request. There was a fluttering sound and you saw black feathers in your peripheral vision as he shifted into his demon form. You smiled lazily, admiring how beautiful he was illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. You hadn’t seen this side of him since the first time. Even if you knew what to expect the second time around, it was just as awe inspiring as the first. You knew what was to come now and you eagerly awaited his next move. 

 “Hands and knees.” He growled and you scrambled to follow his orders. Your knees quaked a bit as you got into position. You could feel the bed dip from his weight as he joined you in it, lining the tip of his cock with your dripping cunt. With one smooth motion, he was buried in you right up to the top of his knot. “Yes... “ He hissed, fisting his hand in your hair and pulling you up to be flush up against his chest while he set a brutal pace. “Yes..” 

 You were in heaven, your body feeling nothing but euphoria as it conformed to every ridge and vein of his cock that worked in and out of you. You came only after a few thrusts, but you knew it was far from over. Lucifer’s thick girth and massive length working in and out of your dripping pussy would push you right to the edge of pure bliss and you couldn’t wait to chase that feeling with him. 

 His free hand snaked around your waist to rub your clit, sending you keening and again into another orgasm. His sharp fangs raked the soft skin of your neck, leaving welts and marks that would last for days. The pain only added to the experience and you rode out yet another high around his cock. 

 “All of me.” He growled, slowing his thrusts to start pushing his knot into you. You let out a strangled gasp, feeling the familiar stretch at your entrance. It was blindingly blissful, being penetrated so deeply by his cock and then to be stretched to your limits with his knot. There was no other feeling like it and even without the aphrodisiacs coursing through you, you knew it was the best sex you would ever have. You breathed slowly, feeling every inch of his knot enter you, your eyelids fluttering as you could only imagine what it looked like right now as your pussy engulfed him. 

 He groaned when the tie was complete, your core accepting every last bit of him and now, his true pleasure began. He pushed you back onto the bed, letting you brace yourself on your elbows while his hands went to your waist to keep you steady. He rutted into you, rocking back and forth and groaning every time he felt your walls clench around him. You could tell he was close and with one last possessive growl, he pushed himself as deeply as he could into you, releasing his load. The warmth of his seed filling you doing its job as it brought you to one last climax before you felt your arms give way and you collapsed from exhaustion. 

 Lucifer gently maneuvered you to lay on your side so he could join you in the bed with his knot still fully embedded in you. He could still feel his balls twitching, releasing his cum in spurts inside of you as he nestled you into the crook of his arms and protectively wrapped his wings around your form. 

 “Congratulations on making it through a year here.” He praised, stroking your hair and lulling you into sleep. 

 “Of course, I expect to be with you for many years to come.” 

 “That’s exactly what I want to hear.” He chuckled, kissing the top of your head as you dozed off into slumber. “Stay for the night… It’s too late to get you home by now.” 

 “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” You said, clenching yourself around his cock and he chuckled at your response. 

 “This is very true.” He said, still petting you methodically and watching you fall asleep. 

 He waited patiently for you to start softly snoring before he allowed himself the privilege of resting as well. His knot was still hard and firmly entrenched in you and it would likely stay that way for a few more hours. He watched your body slowly rise and fall in slumber and listened to you mumble in your sleep while he let himself soak in the soft moment. 

 “I love you, Lucifer…” You mumbled in your sleep, shifting a little and clinging onto the arm he had thrown across you. 

 “I know.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head, fully satisfied with the result of a long years’ worth of training. “I love you, too.” 

 Caring for humans was still a foreign concept to Lucifer; but, he could make an exception for you.

Fin

Taglist: @ptv-hades @bluelipsblueveins-blue @utopiamiroh @vanillaicebaby @taehyungtrasholiviahaneul99 @weebartistinc

[belit0]

Anonymous:

Can I have a scenario where Itachi takes care of his sick s/o who has a fever?

[I did it in a Itachi x reader situation because I thought you might like it better. If it is not to your liking, let me know and I can make you something different :)]

Itachi came home like any other day, on a quiet night that promises rest by your side. Being the captain of his ANBU team demands a lot from him, but one of his great motivations to execute his tasks with excellence and finish his duties as soon as possible, is to know that you are waiting for him. Being a highly sensitive person, and with unquestionable skills to read people, it didn’t take long for the Uchiha to realize that something was wrong with you.

He walked through the front door of your shared house, leaving his boots at the entrance, to walk back in his uniform to where you were. Standing in front of the mirror in your room, you watched your reflection, analyzing your face and cursing the most obvious symptoms of fever.

What your image brought back was a [Y/N] with a red face, a slightly trembling body, glazed eyes, skin bristling in the slightest breeze. Honestly, you felt really weak, and you had to cut back on your daily training to go home earlier than usual due to physical exhaustion and pain in your muscles.

When Itachi encountered this situation, he smiled weakly, and got down to business. He approached you from behind, and looked at you through the image in the glass. Even if he wanted to hug you or touch you, he wouldn’t, for in his mind is present the physical pain that must be tormenting you.

“[Y/N]… you should have called me if you are in this state.”

“It’s no big deal, Itachi, I can take care of myself you know.”

You turned around to face your boyfriend, and tried to keep your composure, even though your being begged for rest. A big hand landed on your forehead gently for a few seconds, measuring your body temperature. When he was satisfied with his rudimentary analysis, a worried look took possession of his features.

“You are really on fire. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Without the strength to argue, and knowing that he is right, you walked to the bed where Itachi tucked you in. He did not allow you to cover yourself too much, as the high heat of your body was supposed to decrease, and he forced you to keep the blanket around your waist.

“I’m supposed to have a mission tomorrow… this is a bad time to get sick.”

“It’s never a bad time for you to take care of yourself. I’ll take care of that, and the rest. Indulge me by resting.”

With that said, the Uchiha left the room and headed for the kitchen. There, he extracted some ice from the freezer and placed it in a deep pot. Inside, he put water from the tap, and a dishtowel, which soon soaked up the icy water. Going back to where you were resting, he placed the pot on the light table that was on your side. Before starting his work, he changed his ANBU uniform for more comfortable clothes.

After that, he sat down next to you on the mattress, took the wet dishrag from inside the pot and drained it so that no cold water would drip on the floor or bed. Gently and delicately, he placed it on your burning forehead. It didn’t take a second for your skin to feel the temperature contrast. He folded the edges of the fabric so that it would not wet your hair or cover your eyes, took the book he was reading at the time from his bedside table and waited.

When the rag lost the frozen sensation of ice, Itachi dipped the rag back into the pot of water and repeated the process. This action took place for an hour, until he gave up on this procedure as the results were not as expected.

Leaving his reading behind, he got out of bed again, and went to his wardrobe. From there he took a total of six socks, and put them together with the cloth in the pot. Then he went to the kitchen, and extracted more ice from the frezeer as the current one was beginning to disappear into the water.

Leaving off where it belongs, the Uchiha made sure that all the clothes were well soaked. He sat on the edge of your side, and with silent movements, uncovered your body completely. A sense of guilt overtook him as groans of discomfort came from within, making it clear that you were suffering at the time.

But the only thing he wants is to eliminate what ails you, what makes you feel bad, because he knows how it feels to be sick to that unbearable level, where the very sheet on your skin is a nuisance and no position is comfortable in your rest. As a man suffering from a hidden disease, Itachi knows that deplorable state where your body betrays you and makes you useless. Empathizing from his own experience, the only thing he can do for you is act as he would like you to act for him when one of his attacks catches him off guard, leaving him knocked out and out of breath wherever he is. But because of his own limitations, he is unable to reveal his poor health to you, and he faces that hell alone.

This does not mean that he lets you face this condition by yourself as well. No, this man is a great partner in life. Without wanting to wake you up, he places the new icy cloths on different key areas of your body, hoping to give a more concise fight to the fever. One on your forehead, two on your armpits, two on your wrists, and two on your ankles. More often than in his previous attempt, he dips the cloths and soaks them with new ice water, repositioning them in the hottest areas of your body.

After an hour of this routine, the frustration of the Uchiha begins to grow, as your condition does not improve. He feels helpless in the face of the fact that he can’t help you, and that you’re probably facing a lot of physical discomfort while he’s feeling quite normal. He completely abandons his first fighting strategy, and goes on to execute a more frontal and less pleasant plan for you.

The high temperature has put you into a feverish sleep for several hours, and Itachi takes you in his arms as gently as possible from the bed. Without squeezing your body in his grip, he allows the cloths that covered you from head to toe to fall across the room’s floor. A little hint of concern begins to show under his always calm face.

He takes you into the bathroom, where he sits you on the closed toilet seat to turn on the shower. Closing the door to prevent air from entering, he opens the water and regulates it to a temperature between hot and warm. When he is satisfied, he goes to you, and proceeds to strip you of your clothes until you are naked. There is no sexual connotation in his actions, since he knows your body from beginning to end like a map and it is not a strange situation to see you without any garments. By undressing himself too, he places your arms loosely around his neck, and makes your legs hold around his waist, thus carrying you underwater.

The first contact with it makes your body shiver and shake, rejecting the uncomfortable and almost painful sensation of the liquid on your feverish skin. A slight moan escapes your mouth before some tears do too, but Itachi is there to hold you back.

“Hold on to me [Y/N], it will be over soon I promise.”

The only sounds you manage to make are incoherent moans accompanied by tears because of the horrible sensation in your muscles and joints, making Itachi’s presence in the background. Disturbed by your pain, all you want is to escape the water that falls on you.

"I need you to hold on a little longer, can you do that for me?”

In the absence of a response, the Uchiha proceeded to lean over the taps with you in the air and regulate the water again. By turning the hot water off a little more, the temperature dropped, without becoming cold. The new sensation stressed your being even more, and you clung to him as your body shook under what seemed like a freezing cold on your boiling skin.

After a few long minutes, the sensitivity began to diminish, your limbs stopped twisting in your boyfriend’s grip, and some normality returned to you. Itachi noticed the change in tension and attitude in you, and rested his lips on your forehead to measure your temperature under water again. More satisfied with the result, he took you both out of the shower, laid you on the floor on your two feet, and wrapped you in a towel while placing one around his waist.

He carried you back into the room, as the exhaustion was clearly visible on your face after the stressful body experience, and sat you on the bed where he proceeded to dress you carefully. After that task, you crawled under the covers, and thanked him for the relief that slowly spread through your body.

” Shall I make you something to eat [Y/N]? You should get your energy back now that your body admits it.”

With a small nod, Itachi accepted your answer, got dressed again and went out into the kitchen. You forced yourself to stay awake in gratitude for your boyfriend’s unconditional care, and when the Uchiha returned with a tray of hot soup, your heart was filled with love.

Sitting on the bed and placing the tray on his lap, he proceeded to feed you slowly so that your body would not reject the food.

“…You know, [Y/N]… I think you passed it on to me…”