#also again to reiterate I am fine

[ink-the-squid-gremlin]

Endouma is a terrible ship, and here is why.

‼️WARNING‼️: Post not only contains semi spoilers for KNY, but it also contains mentions of things like suicide, depression and noncon/sexual assault. If you are uncomfortable with those topics, please refrain from reading.

TLDR: Enmu and Douma are not compatible with each other because that ship is mostly built up on fetished MLM tropes, overly sexualized versions of the characters and the romanticization of SA.

(God, I feel like I have been posting nothing but hot takes on this account as of late. I promise I will go back to posting art, cosplays, and more just chill stuff after this.)

Enmu and Douma are not characters that should not be shipped together, for multiple reasons. Starting off, THEY ARE NOTHING ALIKE!!!! I don’t know where or how it was decided that they were alike, or that Enmu is “Douma 2.0”, but it makes no sense. While both are meant to be irredeemable monsters, Enmu was an irredeemable monster from the get go. From what we know about his backstory, he knew he was scamming people and targeting the weak and vulnerable for it. Douma’s backstory goes a bit more in depth and explains that he was put into the role of “all mighty god” as a child, which lead to the power of it going to his head as he grew up. Douma was still an impressionable child who was failed by the adults around him, and as he grew up he took on some of those same traits as the adults he was surrounded by. The bottom line is this: Douma, while a shitty person, still has some way to sympathize with him, Enmu does not, and thats just on the story side of things.

Enmu and Douma also share nothing in common personality wise. On face value, they may kinda act similar (i.e how they talk (sorta)) but it really just stops there. Enmu ultimately had a goal to kill Tanjiro and gain more blood from Muzan so he could climb the ranks of the demon hierarchy. He wanted to gain more power and to overthrow one of the upper moons for the sake of power. He doesn’t care how many people he has to torment, hurt or kill, as long as he has spot in power, he is happy, hell, he literally has vulnerable and even sick children do his dirty work! Enmu is a sick and twisted individual and he prides himself on that. Douma on the other hand put on the happy and up beat facade to hide that he knows he was failed. Douma is aware he was failed as a human, and so he decided to fail his followers by being the embodiment of false hope. He plays into the false icon lifestyle by pretending to be hopeful and happy around his followers and even the other demons to an extent. He doesn’t care so much about power, rather he cares more about control. Douma keeps up his false religion persona to keep control over his followers. He knows he’s failing them, but he doesn’t want to lose the control he has over them.

Now onto the elephant in the room: the mischaracterization I’ve seen of both of them in the Endouma ship. In both fanart and fanfics I’ve seen and read (well more so forced down my throat since thats all I’ve seen with Enmu in recent times) both Enmu and Douma are mischaracterized to high hell just so we as the reader/viewer will feel pity for them. I’ve seen more of this with Enmu, in that all the stuff that made him unique from the other KNY demons is stripped away so his “savior boyfriend” Douma can comfort him and coddle him. Now, writing an AU is one thing, but if you’re just going to make content of the ship with the characters as they are in the series, then their actual personalities should be honored or at the very least acknowledged.

Going more in depth about the mischaracterizing I’ve been seeing with Enmu, almost all (ALMOST all, not all in general) Endouma content I’ve seen have made him either a depressed and anxious baby that Douma is meant to coddle, or an overly fetishized hyper feminine man thats there simply for sexual reasons. It just goes against their roles in the story of KNY.

Going off of the hyper feminine man mischaracterization of Enmu I’ve seen in regards to the Endouma ship, having him be pretty much a “femboy” not only contradicts him as a character, but it also is pushing toxic heteronormativity on a queer relationship. Making Enmu essentially the “woman”, while putting toxic heteronormativity in a very much MLM ship, it also just boils him down to a sex object and nothing else. Now, I will not say that portraying Enmu as a very sexual and even gross character is wrong, because there were plenty of scenes in KNY of him that had very sexual and perverted undertones, but that is what they were, undertones. There is more to his character than just the sexual undertones he has (as I stated earlier when describing him), and by boiling him down to a “sex doll” for Douma just kind of shows that there wasn’t much of an understanding of his character while making the ship art or a fic. He is much more than a sex object.

Moving onto the mischaracterization I’ve seen of Douma, while not nearly as bad as Enmu, it still feels very off from his character. Making Douma someone who GENUINELY cares for another person is also very contradictory to how he acts in the series. He is someone who cares very little for anyone he comes to meet, whether it be his followers or other demons. Now you may be asking “but, Ink! Douma saw Daki and Gyutaro when they were on the verge of death and decided to save them!” Which is exactly what I am talking about. The only reason he “saved” them was to keep up his facade of a savior and to get himself “brownie points” (for lac of a better term) so his public appearance would look good. Because he cared very little for Daki and Gyutaro, it shows that he only cares about looking like a good person and nothing else. Portraying him as essentially “Enmu’s therapist” that coddles him and such just feels weird. Douma has no emotional connections to anyone, so why would he have an enmotional connection to a demon that is considered lower than him?

Now similar to what I said about Enmu earlier, Douma is also much more than a sex obsessed pervert. Douma being portrayed as basically a male nymphomaniac in the Endouma ship is a very strange way to portray his character. Yes, he may have been fine with letting women seek refuge in his temple, but again, it was to make him seem and look like a good person. We should all know, or at least have the understanding that Douma is literally a woman eater. The women he houses in his temple ultimately have the fate of being nothing more than food. Viewing his reason for taking in women as something sexually driven is a complete misunderstanding of his actions. This misunderstanding of Douma paired with the sexual misunderstanding of Enmu not only creates a toxic relationship, but it also fetishizes and sexualizes MLM pairings. This is something I’ve noticed more in Endouma art, but a lot of it that I have seen feels very fetish-y. I can’t go too in-depth about this aspect, as I am a queer woman, but the way the ship is portrayed in a lot of the art I have seen of it feels as though it is pandering to the appeal of yaoi obsessed straight girls. While yaoi has been a term used for decades to refer to MLM based pairings in media like anime and manga, over the past couple of years, its meaning has become more based around fetishizing MLM pairings rather than just being about MLM pairings.

I now want to bring up something that I’ve seen associated with Endouma (and also the Enmuzan ship, but that is a topic for another time) that really makes me uncomfortable, and that is noncon and the romanization sexual assault. I don’t want to talk too much about this topic, as it is not only triggering for me, but it should also be common sense that fetishizing sexual assault is wrong. Again, this is more so something I have seen in artwork, but it seems almost normalized for Douma to be portrayed forcing himself onto Enmu. Now, I know you are all probably saying “Ink, if you don’t like it/are triggered by it, then don’t interact with it”, but when its all that has been made in regards to newer Enmu content as of late, and how people are hyping it up, its kind of hard to avoid. It makes me truly question just how many people really missed the point of their characters, and only focused on things like Enmu being more androgynous, and Douma being tall and muscular. In a general sense, if a ship is built on, or is popular from fetishized and romanticized sexual assault, it shouldn’t be a ship.

Finally, I just want to mention that these characters have NEVER once interacted in canon. I know that hasn’t stopped people from shipping characters before, but it’s just something I want bring up. (As well as the fact that the Upper Moon’s hate the Lower Moons)

I want to end off this post by saying that all of this is by no means targeted at a specific person, nor am I trying to say that my opinion is correct. I am just stating my own opinions and just stating observations I have made after being in the KNY/Enmu fanbase for nearly 4 years now. People are allowed to ship characters together (within reason) however they like, but just be aware of how it will look on your own part, and what views it may look like you have.

[the-pea-and-the-sun]

sry to engage w goofy ass discourse but im kinda tired of seeing the phrase "afab intersex people used as a gotcha" abt ppl who dont like phrases like tma and tme like. i dont think thats whats happening man ur talking like intersex ppl arent actively on the site and talking abt their own experiences we're not using ourselves as a gotcha. like a lot of intersex ppl r talking abt it themselves u dont gotta keep pretending we're a fringe hypothetical case. intersex ppl are just often not included in these types of conversations and applying a label to someone based on their agab is fucked up no matter what its just more obvious when you're an intersex person and you know that sex is not binary and your agab doesnt reveal some intrinsic truth abt ur biology or identity

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

the sensible part of my brain is like maybe I should fess up to my doctor at the appointment tomorrow and the part of my brain that got me into this mess in the first place is like no absolutely cannot do that until it's got bad enough it should have got stitches again (but unless I hit a vein I am not going to get stitches)

[eyrieofsynapses]

y'know, I'm chill with other people smoking/vaping/etc. it's absolutely not good for you, but bodily autonomy is a thing for a reason, we all only live once, some people find that it helps with other issues etc. etc. it's like doing just about anything that's bad for you, which is, you know, a lot of things. not getting enough sleep is bad. eating too much processed food is bad. hell, just sitting on our phones all the time is awful for us.

what absolutely pisses me off--what makes me want to shake people by the shoulders--is everyone who does it in an indoor space where others live without asking if it's okay. because here's the thing: when you smoke by yourself, you consent to all the stuff it'll do to you.

but. everyone else? did not consent to the culprit fucking up their body. it's the equivalent of punching them repeatedly in the jaw. except that is, at least, blatant, immediate pain. secondhand/thirdhand smoke and vape? that is fucking insidious. that's carcinogens, and chemicals that sit and build up inside your body, slowly but surely screwing you over. it may be decades until the consequences unfold. or it might only be a few months, if you're sensitive to it. might make everyone in the house feel sick within a day or two, if they're sensitive at all. and, of course, there's everyone with asthma and other chronic conditions for whom this becomes even worse, for whom it does not merely irritate but suffocates.

back when we didn't know how bad cigarettes could fuck us up--back then, there was an excuse. but now? now everyone knows what this shit does. hell, plenty of us have family members who died of lung cancer. so there is no excuse, now. now, you know you're hurting people when you do it, that every poisonous puff is worming its way oh so slowly into everyone else's cells, bodies, lungs, blood.

some people struggle with addiction. I'm not targeting that. sometimes you know how bad a thing is, and you do everything you can to stop, and you just can't. (doesn't make you less culpable--but it isn't all carelessness, at that point.) I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about all the damn generation Z people (my peers) I run into lately who display a ridiculous lack of caring for others' health. and you know, I'm just... impressed, really. at how anyone can justify that to themself. at how you could possibly call yourself a good person and still do that.

our generation grew up with endless, endless messages explaining exactly what cigarettes do to us, exactly why we needed to avoid secondhand smoke like the plague it is. I know kids of smokers who deal with the ramifications of it even now. how the hell, how the living bloody hell, could you possibly learn all of that, know people who went through that, and still justify exposing other people without a care in the damn world?

[a-memory-a-distant-echo]

important updates, though i really do have to reiterate that i am not a trained rider or even an especially good rider: just rewatched the special and went frame by frame, and yeah, i think that zeng shunxi just isn't very comfortable riding, because he's definitely cantering here, and...poor boy is getting thrown all over the place.

i know that it's at partly just that i do not generally post when i ride, but fang duobing, bounciest boy on the screen at all times, posting incredibly dramatically, is very funny and charming to me. he really wakes up and is like 'fuck yeah, every day is leg day, work them thighs!'

like, sir. please. you're gonna die. how far are you riding. how can you possibly sustain that, you cannot, it is impossible. how will you walk when you get off that horse. your thighs will be of steel, by which i mean utterly incapable of moving.

[ocinstar]

Like a cake

Spencer x afab!reader

Summary: Spencer accidentally eats a special brownie and gets baked for the first time, making him reveal some things.

Cw: drug use (devils lettuce), fluff, use of y/n

A/n: cooked this up at 3 am while watching that scene in the perks of being a wallflower where charlie gets high and thought high spencer would be hilarious 😭

Also this is not proof read, so if u see any spelling mistakes, no you didn't 😇

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"Do I really have to go to this thing?" Spencer asked Derek from his seat beside me.

Derek had gotten an invite to a house party by some of his friends and had insisted on us coming along with him. Emily and I were pretty quick to accept the invitation, but it took a lot of convincing to get boy wonder to agree to join us. He only agreed after I promised to lend him my copy The Undertaker in the original Russian print.

"Yes, you do." Morgan answered with a breathy chuckle. Spencer sighed and sunk lower in his seat. I sort of felt bad now for pushing him to come, especially since I know he's uncomfortable with things like this. But that's also exactly why I pushed him, to get him out of his comfort zone a bit and have the chance to talk with people in a low stress environment. Derek had said the party wasn't supposed to be to big, just a few friends. Which of whom were all going to be intoxicated, therefore easier to talk to since drunk people tend to be less judgmental than sober people.

"Don't worry, spence. It'll be fun." I gave him a reassuring smile. He let out another sigh that let me know he didn't really believe me.

"Yeah, Reid. It'll be fun." Emily reiterated from the front seat. I didn't plan on leaving Spencer to fend for himself at this party of course. I planned on staying by his side until I was sure he was going to be fine, but I realized that might be a bit harder than I thought as we pulled up to the house. It was crowded with cars and some people hanging out on the front lawn. As we stepped out, we could hear the music coming from inside.

"This is definitely more than 'a few friends', Morgan." Spencer fidgeted with his hands nervous. Derek patted his back before clapping his shoulder and shaking him slightly.

"You'll be just fine, pretty boy." He said before him and Emily walked off and into the house. Spencer's anxiety was very apparent as he cracked and played with his fingers.

"We can leave if you really want to." I offered once I realized something like this might be way to out of his comfort zone. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" I asked again just to make sure he was ok with this. He nodded his head yes so I linked my arm with his as I lead him into the party.

From the amount of cars parked outside of course I expected there to be way more people than previously anticipated, but I definitely didn't expect this many people. I held onto spencer's arm a bit tighter as we walk through the sea of people. I saw some people head down to where I assumed the basement was and lead spencer down the stairs. It was calmer down there, less people and softer music. So I thought this would be a better environment for spencer, who was currently as stiff as a board. I unlinked my arm from his to give him some space. I spotted the vacant couch and gestured for him to follow me as he went on about how Morgan was a liar.

"'Just a few people' he said. He promised just a few people! This is what I get for trusting him. He's always trying to get me to go to parties with him, of course it wasn't gonna be 'just a few people.'" His rant continued as we walked.

"Yes, yes, Derek is a liar and I'll put salt in his coffee tomorrow. But for now, just try to have a bit of fun tonight, ok?" I sat down on the couch, making myself comfortable. He sighed heavily and nodded.

"Ok, I'll try." He sat down, awkwardly positioned on the edge with his hands on his knees. It was obvious he felt uncomfortable sitting on a strange couch with God knows what on it. There was an ottoman beside the coffee table that looked like it opened up, so I opened it in hope to find something for spencer to sit on. Sure enough there was a thin blanket that looked clean.

"Here, up." I ordered him to stand and he did without a word. Cute.

I draped the blanket over the couch and gestured for spencer to sit back down. He smiled me gratefully as he sat back down, now looking much more comfortable.

"Thank you." I waved my hand dismissively, I mean it's the least I could do for making him come here. Some people filed back upstairs, so I saw an opportunity a drink from upstairs while it was basically empty down here.

"Will you be ok if I go get a drink?" He looked up at me with his gorgeous brown eyes, which made me want to just sit back down and forget about the drink.

"Yes, I'll be fine." He gave me a tight liped smile. I was reluctant to leave him, but I walked off regardless.

~~~

I felt awkward sitting all alone. After y/n left, I just started fiddling with my hands and looking around. I wish I had told y/n to stay. She was the only reason I had came and now without her here, i felt out of place.

I hear a group of people come down the stairs, their loud laughing filling the room. I get insanely anxious when I realize their voices getting closer to me.

"Hey man, mind if we sit here with you?" One of the guys ask. Of course I couldn't say no. Well technically I could, but I don't know how without coming across rude.

"Uh, yeah, sure." I slide over to the very end of the couch as 2 of them sat down and the others sat on the floor or stood. They continued their loud conversation and I wondered if I should just leave.

"Whatever, star wars and star trek are basically the same thing." One girl said from the floor. I suddenly thought back to earlier and the promise i made to y/n to try and have fun. So I interjected before I could over think it.

"Actually, Star Trek is more based on probable science as basis for it's plot while star wars is more sci-fantasy more focused on how people react to their surroundings, instead of how the surroundings are possible." I regretted opening my mouth immediately. They stared at me, surprised I had spoken to them.

"Thank you!" The guy sitting beside me shouted. "See! I told you!" He pointed at the girl who was speaking earlier. She simply rolled her eyes at him and he turned his head to me.

"Continue telling her how wrong she is." They all looked at me, waiting for me to continue my informational rant. Which I happily did. As I talked more about the differences and similarities between the 2 worlds, one of the guys, who I hadn't noticed had left, approached us with a plate of brownies. He held them out to the group and they all excitedly reached for them.

"You want one to?" He offered and held the plate out further so I could reach it. Of course I wasn't going to pass up a free treat, so I took one without giving it much thought.

"Thank you." I chewed on the browine as I carried on with what I was saying before being interrupted. This night is turning out to be fun after all. I do wish y/n was her though.

"Can I have another one please?"

~~~

Upstairs felt like a nostalgia trip back to high school. A room flooded with drunk people and people groping each other. It took some time to navigate my way through everyone and it took even longer finding the kitchen. But I eventually found my way. I was delighted seeing the familiar face of Derek Morgan as I entered.

"Well if it isn't the liar." He looked up from pouring his drink. He smiled at me and laughed.

"How's boy genius doing?" He asked as he took a sip of whatever drink he mixed together.

"I think he might climb out a window and run home any second now." I grabbed 2 empty solo cups, filling one up with water and the other with vodka and cranberry juice. Derek laughed.

"Ah I think he has a compelling reason to stay." He winked at me and I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks. I regret telling him about my crush on spencer. I told him to shut up, which just make him chuckle.

We talked for a few minutes about how Emily had almost immediately found a girl to flirt with and has been with her all night. And almost as if on cue, she walked in. We all teased her about her party crush for a few minutes, until the teasing turn onto me. I also regretted telling Emily about my crush.

I hadn't realized how much time had passed till Emily mentioned something about spencer being left alone for so long. A whole 30 minutes had passed since I had come upstairs and I immediately felt bad for ditching spencer for so long without a word. I quickly grabbed the 2 cups and bid them goodbye before hurrying off.

Getting through all the people took longer than before since I had to be extra careful as to not spill anything. I felt relieved when I finally reached the stairs to the basement. I was worried that spencer had been just sitting there for the past half an hour in silence. But my worries were quickly squandered as I saw him talking with a group of people who looked to be about our age. He had changed spots, now sitting criss-cross on the coffee table while all the other's surrounded him like it was story time.

"And I don't understand why leia kissed luke if she literally said in return of the jedi that she always knew he was her brother." Spencer babbled on as the people around hilm laughed loudly.

"Hey, spence." I saw his eye's light up when he saw me and he smiled wide.

"Y/n!" He threw his hands up, which caused him to almost fall backwards. He caught himself just in time and giggled a bit. It wasn't until I got closer to him that I noticed how red his eyes were. That, mixed with his odd behavior, it was clear he was not sober.

"Are you stoned?" I tried my best to contain my laughter, but it was funny watching him rock back and forth looking like he was really thinking about the question i just asked.

"Yes. No. I only had 2 brownies." He counted 2 on his fingers and held them up to me. The people he was talking to all started laughing and spencer joined in with them, probably not registering they were laughing at him.

"Ok, wanna come with me to a quiet place away from these people?" I leaned in closer to him, careful not to let the others hear. He doesn't say anything right away, just looks at me with an expression i couldn't place, but one that made my stomach flutter.

"Yes, please." He whispers back and stands up quickly. He sways back and forth for a moment before steady himself.

"We're gonna go somewhere else." Spencer tells the group and they all start booing in protest and all shouting disappointed "no's". Spencer seemed unbothered by them, but does say a quick apology regardless. I gestured for him to follow me as I stared walking away. He waved them goodbye before hurrying after me.

I lead him down a dimly lit hallway and into an unlocked room, which thankfully had no one in it. It appeared to be a guest room that was pretty empty, besides a queen bed, a night stand with a lamp and a rug.

"Those people were nice. They knew nothing about star trek though." Spencer sat down on the rug, returning to his criss-cross position.

"You do know there's a bed right there." I laughed, pointing to the bed that was right behind him. He shrugged.

"The rug looked softer." He said as he felt the rug. I took a seat next to him, putting the drinks off to the side. He looked completely out of it, like he was on a different planet.

"How are you feeling?" I asked and leaned back against the bed.

"Weird."

"I assume you've never been stoned before?" He shakes his head.

"I've read about the effects of marijuana, euphoria, altered perception, impaired memory and cognition. But It's so much different actually experiencing it first hand. It feels weird. I also probably shouldn't have ate 2 of those brownies. Brownies sound really good right now. Oh! Another effect of marijuana is increased appetite, or the "munchies" as they call it." He smacked his lips together, then licks them.

"My mouth is really dry." I couldn't help but laugh. This is definitely not how i expected this night to go. He turns to me as I laugh with a painfully cute expression that made my stomach flip. I reached for the cup of water i had gotten for him earlier and handed it to him.

"Here." I chuckled and he took it quickly. He didn't even look to see what was in the cup before downing the whole thing. Once he had finished, he whipped his mouth and put the cup down.

"Thank you. Your so kind." He turned to me and smiled gratefully. He looked absolutely beautiful in that moment. His hair was slightly messy, his eyes were glossed over and dreamy looking, his smile was simply adorable and the light was hitting him just right. His compliment made me blush and I turned away from his gaze. I felt him continue to stare at me.

"I'm sorry you're stuck taking care of me. I know you probably wanted to have fun tonight." His face had dropped and he sighed.

"It's ok, spence. I am having fun." I reassured him. Witnessing his first experience being high was admittedly very entertaining. He sighed again. He just looked at me in silence for a few moments, making me nervous.

"You're so amazing." He blurts out suddenly. His words took me by surprise and I felt my face heat up, probably now a light shade of pink.

"You're so pretty too. And caring, and smart, and funny, and pretty." His tone was light and distant, like he wasn't aware he wad saying all this out loud. That made me snap back to reality and remember that he was high. I felt a wave of disappointment hit me when I realized he was probably just saying all this stuff because he was stoned, not because he meant it.

"Ok, spence." I said dismissively and laughed a bit to hide my disappointment.

"I think you're the most amazing person I've ever met. I mean, there's a party happening right now and you choose to stay with me. You're always doing that, taking care of me. I think that's why I love you so much." The last part really caught my attention, my disappointment quickly dissipating and being replaced with shock.

Did he really just say that? I know I shouldn't take anything he says right now seriously, but admitting that he loves me seems pretty serious. I take a few seconds just to process what he had just said. I was sure he didn't mean it like that, I'm sure he meant as just a friend. But that didn't stop my heart from fluttering.

"What?" I finally said with a uncontrollable smile on my face. He turned to me, confused.

"What?"

"You just said you love me." His eyes widened and he shot up straight.

"What?!" He looked at me like a deer caught in headlights. He groaned, putting his head in his hands and shaking his head.

"Spence, it's ok. I know you didn't mean it like that." He sighed. He said something, but it was muffled by his hands.

"I can't hear you." He sighed again and lifed his head up so i could hear him clearer.

"I did mean it like that." He said, his voice quite and low. I couldn't believe what i had heard, so I just stared at him in shock for a moment. He glanced over to me when I didn't say anything for to long, groaning when he saw my shocked expression.

"Ugh, this is not how I wanted to tell you." He put his head back in his hands and slouched forward.

"I know you don't feel the same and we're just friends. I'm so sorry, y/n. You can forget I ever said that, i don't want it to be awkward or uncomfortable for you. I just-"

"Who said I didn't feel the same?" I cut him off before he got to in his head. He turned his head so face that I thought he'd get whipe lash, his red eyes wide in surprise.

"Wait, what?" The look on his face made me giggle.

"You're smart and funny and kind and you're insanely cute, you understand me in a way no one ever has. You're so passionate about your work and helping people. You're the most incredible, extraordinary person I've ever known. How could I not love you?" I felt a huge weight lift off my chest as I tell him everything I've wanted to say to him for so long. He just stares at me wide eyed, his mouth opening like he was about to say something, but then closing it again.

"I- what- wait- huh?" He stammered, making me laugh.

"I'm sorry, it must be the drugs or my own wishful thinking. But did you just say what I think you said?" A piece of hair fell onto his face, so I tucked it behid his ear. His face turned red and his mouth hung agape slightly.

"Maybe we should talk about this when you're sober."

"No, I want to talk about it now." He scooted closer to me. I was almost certain this is not how he wanted this conversation to go, him stoned out of his mind and in some random room in a random house. Of course I wanted to say it again, to tell him I love him and that I've loved him for years. But I'd rather tell him that when he can process more than 1/2 things at once.

"Later, when you're not baked like a cake." He laughed like it was the funniest joke he'd ever heard.

"'Baked like a cake'" He repeated after his laughter died down to a frequent giggle. His face suddenly turned more serious and he looked me right in the eye.

"Cake sounds so good right now." His face was so serious, like he had to have cake at that very moment or someone would kill his whole family. The intensity on his face was enough to make me burst into laughter. I had to look away from him to compose myself, so I didn't see him go to lay down. I felt his head rest on my thighs, the sudden contact taking me by surprise. I look down to see him turned away from me with his eye's closed.

After my initial shock disappeared, I hesitantly ran my fingers through his hair. He sighed in content and placed his hand on my knee. I smiled to myself as I continued to play with his hair.

"I'm tired." He mumbled. As if almost on cue, i felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I took it out to reveal a text from Derek. I chuckled as I read it over.

"Well you're in luck because Emily puked on a girl and now we're leaving." I tried to get up, but his head remained on my lap.

"Come on, spence. You gotta get up." He groaned in protest and gripped my leg to keep me in place.

"Don't wanna."

"Spencer." I said softly. I didn't want to move either, but unless we wanted to take a taxi home, we had to get up. He sighed before pushing himself up, his hair a complete mess. I reached over to fix it for him, combing his hair with my fingers. He looked at me like I was an angel on earth, his eyes fixed on me. Though the urge to pull him in right then was strong, but I had to get him home.

"Come on." I stood, reaching my hand out to help him up. I interlocked his hand with mine once he had stood up. I lead him out the door, back out to the basement, upstairs and through the crowd to the front yard where Derek was waiting for us.

"Hey, love birds." He smirked when he caught sight of our interlocked hands.

"Hi, Morgan. Do you have any snacks in your car?" Spencer asked. Morgan looked at him funny and smiled wide when he saw his red eyes.

"Are you baked?" Spencer giggled to himself before responding.

"Like a cake." He started laughing and Derek looked at me for answers.

"I'll tell you later." Derek nodded and walked over to his car, me and spencer following behind. Emily was already in the front seat, passed out. I felt bad for how she was going to feel in the morning.

The ride home was quiet, besides the occasional snore coming from Emily. I turned to Spencer to see him fighting off sleep, his eyes just slivers and struggling to keep his head up. I squeeze his hand to get his attention. He turned to me with tired eyes and I gestured for him to lean his head on my shoulder. He whispered a "thank you" before resting his head on my shoulder. We stayed that way till we reached Spencer's apartment complex.

I shook him slightly as we parked outside his building. His eyes opened slightly and he removed his head from my shoulder.

"Come on, I'll walk you inside." He gave me a tired smile. I escorted him out the car and into his building.

He talked about the book he was reading on the way up to his apartment, he barely making any sense as he did so. Once we reached his door he got quiet.

"You really meant it right?" He asked and I looked at him confused.

"Meant what?"

"What you said earlier." I smiled once I realized what he was talking about.

"Of course I meant it."

"Good. I meant it to." He smiled sweetly. I would've never imagined that spencer would like me back, or that I'd find out this way. But I'm happy regardless. I'm so happy. Spencer Reid, my best friend, loves me.

I cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He looked at me wide eyed when I pulled away.

"Goodnight, spence."

"G'night." He muttered, his surprise still evident. I waved him goodbye before heading back down to the car.

The ride back to my place consisted of telling Morgan how spencer had managed to get high on accident and him telling me how Emily drank way to much, resulting in her throwing up all over the girl she'd been flirting with. I left out the love confession part to avoid any further torment that spencer would definitely have to endure from him at work.

As he talked about what had happened while me and spencer where in the basement, I thought about everything that had happened. My smile grew more and more as I replayed the events of tonight. Just then, I felt my phone buzz. My smile growing impossibly wide when I read the text on the screen.

*ate everything in my fridge. I love you.*

I laughed before typing my response.

*I love you too.*

~~~

A/n: first tumblr fic guys! This was longer then i expected so oopsies my b 🤗 anyways, hope you enjoyed!

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

just a thought !! but what do u think ‘suki would do if he accidentally hurt reader ? like an elbow to the nose or smth , bc i kid u not that happened with my bf today and he would not leave until i told him i was fine 😭 js thought that katsu wld be an internal emotion wreck ??!

wait i love this omg😭😭tysm for the ask anon this is so cute, your boyfriend sounds like a sweetheart !

your nose stings.

you don’t really know how it happened, but you ended up getting decked in the nose by your boyfriend. accidentally, of course, said boyfriend would rip his own nails of before even thinking of hurting you. however, said boyfriend was also built out of fucking marble.

so it wouldn’t be surprising to say your nose hurt like a bitch.

“ow, ow, ow !” you whine, katsuki channels through confusion, realization and utter fear in about a millisecond. his hands smack against your face.

“holy—shit ! what the fuck’re y’doin’ ?!” his eyes scan all over your face like he’d shot you, and it honestly almost felt like he did. his hands grip at your cheeks. you wince when he presses his thumb to your nose. “ow—i was jus’ g’nna surprise you—ouch, katsuki !”

you pull your face out of his grip but he pulls you back, “stop squirmin’ an’ let me see.” he mumbles quietly, eyebrows furrowed hard. in focus or anger or worry but probably a mix of all three if you knew anything about him.

“holy fuck, why were you sneakin’ around like that, dummy..” you want to roll your eyes about him still trying to scold you, but the tone of his voice is different then when he usually does. he does sound genuinely worried so you want to reassure him.

“i was just trying to say hello.” you reiterate. “suki, i’m fine. it’s already starting to hurt less.” he ignores you and continues to inspect your face.

“nothin’ broken..” he mumbles to himself, thumbing at your nose a bit softer this time. you manage a snort.

“of course not, jesus, katsuki—”

“you’re okay, yeah ?”

“yes !” you giggle, gripping at his wrists. he pouts, studying your face. “it’s already starting to hurt less.”

he frowns even harder “i elbowed the shit outta you.”

“by accident.” you correct, “katsuki, it’s fine.”

“..you’re sure.”

“i’m sure.” you nod, smiling at him to reinforce your point. he squints, then sighs loudly. leaning in to kiss the bridge of your nose, copying the get better kisses you jokingly give him that he always scoffs at but insist you give him without fault. it hurts a bit, but you feel giddy anyway, your smile grows wider.

“don’t sneak up on me like that again, dummy.” he insists “i mean it.”

you cross your fingers together “promise.” you hum, he scoffs, you don’t think he can muster up a roll of his eyes right now since he can’t seem to be able of taking them away from you. he runs his thumb over your forehead.

“if it starts hurting or something, you tell me.”

“katsuki !” you groan, laughing. katsuki doesn’t look amused. not at all.

he growls “oi, i mean it.”

“i got it, i told you i am fine. you’re okay.” it seems that was the reassurance he needed. that you weren’t mad at him to boot. he exhales, shoulders dropping the slightest bit.

“…...you’re positive ?”

“katsuki, i swear to god—”

[hueseok]

( 16. ) A LOVER’S KISS.

a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course.

and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.

━ jeongguk x reader ━ 4.1k words. ━ 18+ ━ smut | angst | fluff | friends with benefits au | idiots to lovers au | college au | yearning? pining? | ft. swimmer!jeongguk, editor-in-chief!reader (small appearances from swimmer!jimin & associate editor!taehyung) ━ warning/s: swearing

note. no smut for this part, but i’m keeping the rating 18+ and have the smut label above since this drabble series overall isn’t suitable for minors !!

[ chapter index. ]

EPISODE 16. the one with a lover’s kiss !

jeongguk couldn’t sleep the night before the competition.

it’s not the first time this happened, of course. one can guess that he should be used to it at this point due to the nerves and the pressure and his desire to do great for the sake of the university’s reputation and for his own reputation as well (and maybe because of the expectations of his coach too who often wasn’t that kind in order to push him to the farthest of his limits). 

however, as made apparent by you before you attended class earlier, he didn’t just have the game to keep in mind for tomorrow, no—because as you have explained to him and cruelly reiterated when he called you a few minutes ago just for the purpose of hearing your voice before he tried to sleep—tomorrow was also going to be the day in which you were going to tell him your decision on whether you were willing to fully take him back again or not after the whirlwind of events that happened to your relationship these past weeks.

he wanted to believe that he had a good chance in winning you back; he wanted to confidently say that there was perhaps no way you would reject him, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up too high either. god knows how much that could hurt once you give him your answer and it turns out to be the opposite of what he was guessing. though a part of him was already convinced that surely, you wouldn’t have entertained his sweet gestures this week since making up if it wasn’t going to lead to you taking him back, right?

right? 

you possibly couldn’t be that brutal.

though in your defense, he didn’t think he had the right to be angry if leading him on was your plan all along. truth be told, he has been both intentionally and unintentionally brutal to you before to have the nerve to complain, that if you were going to take this opportunity to get the revenge you wanted, then he should just be a man about it and accept it the way it is.

***

“i don’t see her.”

jeongguk couldn’t breathe. he took a dramatic inhale to calm himself and regulate his heartbeat. “anywhere? you don’t see her with the guys and just—somewhere in the bleachers, maybe?”

“nope.” jimin glanced at him. “why? is ____ not coming? haven’t you two made up already? don’t tell me you did something stupid again.”

“we’re fine.” he rolled his eyes, slightly unsettled by his own statement. “it’s just important that she’s here.”

“yeah, i know, she’s your lucky charm, blah blah blah.”

“it’s not that.” jeongguk huffed. “well, it’s a part of it, but it’s bigger than that. is it wrong for me to want to try and find her before the competition begins?”

“yeah, coach would kill you if he doesn’t find you here when he arrives, so i advise you to just chill and be patient. maybe she’s just running a bit late.”

“yeah, you’re right. i’m just paranoid, am i?”

“what are you even exactly paranoid about?” jimin asked.

jeongguk frowned. talking about it out loud made it too real, and he preferred not to do it because of that, but he figured that he should at least tell someone about it if he wanted more insight perhaps. at least jimin has been a far better partner to yebin than jeongguk ever was to you to not be the person suitable to talk about this with. “she said if she doesn’t attend, that means she’s dumping me.”

jimin’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “really? i never thought ____ had it in her.”

“she made it clear that she’s not going to see me anymore if i don’t see her today. i’m practically on the verge of death right now—or the start of my emo boy era.”

 jimin snorted. “didn’t you already go through that phase?”

“no, i haven’t.”

“yeah, you have. you’ve been moping for a few solid weeks when you and her weren’t okay. can’t say that you don’t deserve it. after what you did, you realize that it’s fair for her to play you around a bit, right?”

jeongguk wanted to strangle jimin sometimes because of his bluntness and desire to always tease the hell out of the people he’s close with (which unfortunately included jeongguk). but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that it was good to have a friend like him who could slap the facts in your face in order for you to see the truth and the implication of your actions—and be sometimes funny with it, for that matter.

“is it really?” jeongguk asked.

“well… i mean, it is in a way that you should see how lucky you are that you’re going to get your answer straight away. if i was her, i would have dragged this winning her back thing for a whole year before dropping the bomb that maybe we should just stay friends.”

“you seriously can’t be that cruel, jimin.”

“i could be, if someone really fucked me up.” he laughed. “but ____ isn’t like that. and i know she has strong feelings for you too. so maybe the best course of action now is to just trust what she decides for the both of you and live with it.”

this wasn’t the pep talk that jeongguk was expecting to receive before the tournament.

“and what am i supposed to do if she doesn’t come and that means we’re really over?” he questioned again.

jimin sighed. “then i guess you just have to go back to your emo tendencies and move on.”

***

the first time jeongguk personally asked if you could go to one of his matches, you and him weren’t secretly sleeping with each other yet. you were still in that weird phase of being great friends when you have the rest of the gang with you, but suddenly being really quiet and awkward with each other when it was just you two. he never even thought of inviting you alone when it came to his scheduled races, believing that he was doing the both of you a favor by not putting yourselves in a situation wherein you and him will just fall back to the usual cringeworthy interactions that will lead him physically wincing whenever he remembered them.

but that time, you overheard his conversation with taehyung who was apologizing that he couldn’t come for his match that weekend because of a project he needed to work on, and jeongguk, upon hearing him explain, visibly expressed his disappointment at the news because he wanted a friend to be there just so they could take a proper picture and video for him that he could look back after (if it wasn’t mentioned yet, jeongguk was obsessed with always doing a better performance than his last).

“i can go,” you volunteered before, your eyes focused still on the monitor inside the campus publication office but your ears were paying attention to them. “i’m free this saturday.”

jeongguk looked at you afterwards with a look that showed absolute hesitance. he was thankful that you weren’t peering at him to notice. “oh. you sure, ____? i wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“it’s fine.” you flickered your gaze to him. “though, if you don’t want me to be there, that’s totally okay too—”

“what? don’t be ridiculous.” a very very awkward chuckle tumbled out of jeongguk’s lips, one that taehyung furrowed his eyebrows at because of how fake it sounded. “why wouldn’t i want you to be there? of course you can come. i’d be really glad if you do.”

he didn’t know what response he was expecting, but you grinned, nodding in an skeptical manner, and then returned to what you were doing like nothing happened. jeongguk decided to face taehyung again afterwards, the latter staring at him with a similar dubious yet funny look, but he punched his arm and opted to flee from the office, muttering that he was going to be late for class if he stayed any longer.

fast forward to when the tournament came and he finished first place, he was ecstatic, brimming with pride because of his accomplishment—and when he met you outside the locker room to thank you for really coming and taking shots of him that he would review that night, he was a bit startled when you congratulated him with a tight hug, not used to that kind of affection from you.

sure, he always knew you were sweet to your close friends. you were like that to goeun, taehyung, and haru.

to him, though? that was the first.

“i’m so proud of you, guk!” you told him, the smile on your face so bright that he thought he might have to squint to look at you properly. “this is your first win of the season, right?”

jeongguk nodded. “yeah, i think it is.”

from that point forward, things weren’t so awkward between the both of you. your friendship solidified further when he asked if you wanted to help him with something at his uncle’s newly built restaurant, and you agreed, recognizing the same newfound comfort he was beginning to feel that you were eager to foster it more because it didn’t sit right with you how you were alright with everyone else and yet weird with him.

now, he didn’t want to think of the possibility of things being like that again. he barely survived not talking to you that much during the soomi fiasco and the period wherein he purposely avoided you to not cause any more damage than he had after the confrontation. it was one of the driving forces why he made up his mind in truly pursuing you—the realization that he wasn’t fond of the idea of not being able to talk to you every single day, of not being able to tell you the most random things and be certain that you would always know what to say next.

entering the natatorium, jeongguk didn’t appear as if he was hiding the fact that he was searching for you among the crowd. he already quickly spotted taehyung, haru, and goeun at their spot (you weren’t there), and then he tried searching for yebin, hoping that you decided to accompany her instead this time to create some kind of suspense (you still weren’t there when he saw her). so, all he could do after was let his eyes explore the whole venue as fast as he could, his heart hammering harder at every instance he failed to find you.

was this going to be the end of it all?

were you not coming?

was yesterday the final moment he got to hold you?

“guk,” his coach abruptly called his attention, “take your jacket off. it’s about to start,” he said, noticing jeongguk’s stiff posture as he stood there at the starting platform, immobile while the other players he was competing against were already removing their clothes.

jeongguk took one long scan again.

he still couldn’t see you.

and although he has yet to dive into the water, it felt as if he lost the ability to swim and was drowning to the bottom of the pool.

****

“congratulations!”

jeongguk could at least afford them a genuine smile as taehyung, haru, and goeun pulled him for a group hug. they simultaneously and continuously patted his back, the two boys doing it in a harsh manner to annoy the hell out of him that jeongguk had to groan and shove them off to prevent them from doing further damage to his aching body, though not without laughing and muttering his thanks for both being here and congratulating him.

“you did great back there,” haru said with a proud grin. “you’re definitely going to be the cover of the next issue again with the victory. i doubt i have to get ____’s approval just to make that happen.”

at the mention of your name, jeongguk’s attempt to seem fine crumbled a little. it didn’t go ignored by the rest of the gang with him; although they weren’t aware of the deal you and jeongguk had, they could understand that your absence today meant that something was wrong.

goeun cleared her throat, the silence insufferable that she couldn’t resist finally speaking up. “well, uh, haru mentioned that he’s also treating us today.” she placed an arm around haru’s shoulders, tiptoeing and struggling in the process. “right, ru?”

haru glanced at her. “i am?”

“you are.” taehyung chimed in, linking his arms with haru as if to lock him in. “you said you would if jeongguk wins first place.”

“i did?” haru’s tone remained confused.

jeongguk had to chuckle at their dumb effort to lighten the mood again. it was obvious that no conversation which involved haru saying that he was going to treat them later if jeongguk indeed won occurred. 

“don’t worry,” jeongguk said to haru, “i already messaged my uncle about the win and he’s gonna cook for us at the restaurant.”

“thank god.” haru exhaled a relieved breath. “because i do not have enough money right now to pay for all of us.” he glared at goeun.

“sorry, but someone had to say something,” she muttered.

“and you thought saying that i was going to treat everybody was the perfect thing to mention?” asked haru.

her shoulders lifted up in a shrug. “you’re the most generous out of us three.”

“no, he’s not,” taehyung butted in, “i think that title goes to me.”

“is it?” goeun asked. “you’re probably the most frugal of us all.”

“sensible is the right term for that,” defended taehyung.

jeongguk was about to join in the banter, to divert the teasing towards taehyung more as some sort of payback for the back slaps he got earlier, but just as he was opening his mouth to get a sentence out, he saw you coming into view.

you were here.

you came.

but you were late. what did that mean?

“____,” jeongguk breathed out.

the group automatically shut up, whirling around to see where jeongguk was staring at.

he was very much tempted to run to you, but his knees stayed put, somehow frozen in place. a part of him perhaps knew that talking to you immediately might be the wrong choice. he was afraid that the reason why you arrived late today was because you were still planning to reject him, that you were just being nice about it by doing it in person instead of text—but that was more cruel, in his opinion. he rather you don’t see his face when give him the news that you’re not willing to be with him again.

“hey,” you said, looking directly at him before diverting your attention to the rest of the crew. “you guys mind if guk and i speak alone?”

a pause.

“yeah, it’s cool.” haru was the first one to say, followed by taehyung, and then goeun.

“thanks.” you smiled.

they awkwardly shuffled and made their way to the exit of the locker room. they gave one last look to jeongguk just as they disappeared into the hallway, as if they were wishing him luck or reassuring him that everything was going to be okay, and looked at you too, as if they were sending a similar message that translated more into ‘please don’t break his heart or else this friend group might turn weird’.

when they were gone and definitely out of earshot, jeongguk finally had the courage to take a step forward. “____,” your name tumbled out of his lips again, “what are you—”

“i told you so,” you cut him off. you were going to lead this conversation, you made that mental note to yourself earlier prior to leaving your place, and you were going to say everything you had to say to him that maybe you never had the courage to do so in the past. “you didn’t need me here to win.”

he frowned. “winning is the last thing on my mind today, honestly.”

“that’s not a good mindset for an athlete.”

“it isn’t.”

you pursed your lips. “still, you won.”

“i guess, i did, huh?”

“without me there too.”

“yeah, you already said so.” although he didn’t appear resentful, he sounded bitter. “are you going to keep repeating that because you want to prove that even without you, i’ll be okay?”

“that wasn’t my intention.”

“then what is your intention exactly? i thought you said that if you didn’t come today, then that would mean that you’re not willing to give me a second chance.”

“and yet… i’m here, guk.”

he raised his eyebrows. “you are, but you were… you’re late.”

“because i chickened out.”

“you chickened out?”

you moved forward and sat on the empty bench across him. it was a lot easier to pour your heart out when doing that was only done through your imagination. “i was supposed to be here earlier. it’s just, uh, i… i’ve been—i’ve been stalling.”

it was true. you were adamant last night that you were going to give him a second chance. you were confident that for the past few days, regardless of how short the span was, jeongguk managed to prove to you that he was serious in wanting to commit to a real relationship with you. you saw that in the manner he always looked after you, in the manner he made time for you, in the manner he didn’t shy away from showing you affection when he felt like it—you were convinced that even though he never said it out loud, he really liked you, because the things he did… you were positive that you didn’t just do that to someone you didn’t like.

but you were also really fucking scared. it dawned to you last night (while you were overthinking everything and talking to yourself) that it indeed hasn’t been that long and that you were being too easy again for jeongguk; you were laying yourself out to him without him struggling that much. and why? because you loved him, of course. because you were afraid that if you prolonged this, he would give up and you were going to be alone and hurt once more.

“hey.” jeongguk placed his hands over yours as he knelt in front of you, hair wet and expression sincere; you didn’t notice him walk towards where you were, you were too preoccupied in your thoughts again to catch it. “you don’t have to…” he struggled with what he was going to say, mostly because it wasn’t what he wanted to happen, “you don’t have to give me a second chance if you’re not up for it.”

“really?”

his heart dropped. it was only a hypothetical statement; he didn’t expect you to bite the idea.

“um…” he tried to speak, realizing that acting like a martyr isn’t part of his portfolio, but he was willing to act one right now to not make this harder for you. “i mean… it’ll suck ass, and i’ll probably cry for months, and i’ll beg you first not to date anyone else while we’re still studying in the same university—but after that, after i stop being a big baby about it,  i’ll…”

“you’ll what?” you were waiting for what he was going to tell you next. the corners of your mouth were turned slightly upwards at the hint of playfulness in his tone.

he scooted closer to you. fuck his knee; the high probability of it being bruised if he stays kneeled on the ground was the least of his worries. “i’ll stay by your side and i’ll try harder until you get tired of me. it’s what i told you the other day, didn’t i? i won’t ask you to be gentle with my feelings—i’ll let you torture me and walk me around like a dog. i’ll follow you wherever you’ll go, just patiently waiting ‘til you decide i’m worth your time. i’ll let you hurt my feelings, ____, because between us two, i know that it’s my heart that deserves a pretty good beating.”

you snorted at how dramatic his speech sounded. “hurting you is far from what i want. i’m not that sadistic.”

“then what is it that you want?”

“you.”

jeongguk couldn’t stop the smile from conquering his features. he got the answer he wanted to hear. “i want you too.”

“i don’t mean that in a horny way, okay?” you quickly clarified and he had the strength now to laugh. “i want you to be here for me—all the time—is what i mean. i want you to continue being my best friend, and i also want you to kiss me whenever you feel like it. i want you to annoy the shit out of me, i want you to hug me, i want you to volunteer to do the most random stuff just to help me, and i want you to keep proving that you want us to work, guk. i want you to always remind me that it’s safe to let my guard down and give you my 100% all the time.”

“i’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he promised. “you can trust me, babe. you can even exceed that 100% and make it 200 or a thousand—” your laughter echoed in the locker room.

jeongguk joined you, laughing as well, but as he did, it was also sinking in that what happened between the both of you left a huge mark that made it difficult for you to trust him. he couldn’t blame you, no, not after what he did, and he was eager to change that. he was optimistic that he could do that—because he knew it inside him that he has strong feelings for you. he could even say that he loved you and it would feel right.

“i’m sorry for being late,” you said.

he shook his head. “don’t be. i kind of deserved it.”

“well, you’re not wrong.”

“wow. you’re not a sadist, huh?”

you snickered; jeongguk grinned. he could stay in this moment forever, just you and him staring at each other, this unexplainable yet gooey feeling in your chests making it seem like everything was going to turn out fine.

and then he asked, “can i kiss you?”

your eyebrows rose. you remembered the last time he asked you that, when you were both in the middle of sex and you were hesitant to grant him that kiss because you were afraid of the repercussions that would soon come after once you did. yet, thinking more about the moment, he didn’t really ask you before, really. it was more like a demand, a plea, and it was different from what he was doing right now because despite appearing like he could beg just to get that kiss, it was still so sincere and was done out of—

love.

love? he hasn’t said that out loud before. you didn’t want to assume. but the way he was gazing at you…

you placed your palms on his cheeks while he didn’t hesitate in extending his arms so that they were circled around your waist, pulling you closer that unconsciously caused you to open your legs to make space for his upper body. 

“doesn’t your knee hurt?” you whispered.

jeongguk pressed his lips together. “it’s tolerable.”

there you were again, with that infectious laugh, leading jeongguk to be tempted further to just kiss you without waiting for an answer. “okay, guk.”

he gave you a questioning look.

you rolled your eyes. “yeah. you can kiss me. but if you do...” you trailed, “that would mean that you’re taking the lucky opportunity of being my boyfriend.”

“i’ll make sure to thank you every day for that wonderful honor.” he allowed himself to push forward and kiss your lips. it was what he was dying to do for the past week; it wasn’t enough that he was only close to you or had the permission to hug you every now and then—his body craved to have you close, not in a manner that was horny like disclaimed just seconds ago too, but for all the reasons that you illustrated as well. 

kissing you gave him the signal that you were close. and god, did he always want you close.

“i’ll be better,” he murmured, kissing you continously. “i’ll treat you better, ____.”

you didn’t answer. you just smiled and kissed him further.

when for the past months, having your mouth on his was the thing you had to avoid the most, finally having the liberty to do it now just drove you to do it over and over again.

note. hehe surprise? this update took so long that i think it took two whole damn years before i got the motivation to write again and finish this 😭 apologies for that lmao. life has been a whirlwind but since i'm now in a much happier state, i decided to try continuing this and i'm glad that it ended up with me finally concluding the story :D

honestly, i'm not too sure if got the vibes / essence of the story still since i haven't touched this mini series in such a long time. nonetheless, i did reread it and i hope that i brought justice to what you might have thought the ending was going to be! (also, i might edit this later on for improvement bc i just realized that my writing perhaps did not improve lmao but for now, this is what i can only offer >.<)

as always, THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)

taglist (1/3): @fan-ati--c @marknee @sexymenandcuteanimals101 @jiminisnotavirgin @joondala @afangirllikeme-blog @jxxvk @this-is-seriousbusinesz @swga-ficrecs @apollukee @bloopkook @jaerisdiction @thisartemisnevermisses @koolvrr @wearenot7withu @brilliantmoon7 @naturules @betysotelo18 @jinyoungie0922 @codeinebelle @minimoni7 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @moonchild1 @taeshuworld @daydreambrliever @lilyflowerguk @rjsmochii @namjeonii @drownforryou @sugapiie @emeriroth @xius-exos @sw33tnight @lunaoceanchild @outropjmm @dojacandy @brit97 @abyjil @haruharux23 @haniiii @callmejimmeo @itsalyssa15 @hinawariinoue97 @libra04 @gukkmoans (striked means tumblr won’t let me tag them!)

[corroded-hellfire]

Love Comes Walking In - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie didn’t want to go to prom, until he wanted to go with Chrissy. You wanted to go to prom, but not if Eddie is going to go with Chrissy. But above everything, you want Eddie to be happy.

Note: this whole thing mostly came about because I wanted to write the one scene with Dustin. You’ll know the one.

Words: 6k

Eddie teasing you was nothing new. His lighthearted jabs about your skirt making you look preppy or having sleepy eye boogers first thing in the morning roll off your back, occasionally even making you laugh along. But when he teases you about wanting to go to prom, that gets under your skin. 

Wanting one special night to wear a pretty gown with glowing makeup and neatly styled hair didn’t sound stupid to you. To your best friend, it seemed like torture. The whole school year Eddie would rag on you about buying into the whole conformist commercialism that you thought of as a rite of passage. That makes it even worse when he suddenly changes his tune just a week before the dance. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jeff complains. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just because I changed my mind doesn’t mean I’m ridiculous,” he argues.

“You changed your mind because of a girl!” Gareth shouts. 

Jabbing your green beans with your plastic fork, you stay silent as the boys bicker back and forth. Part of you was also afraid to open your mouth, unsure of what would come out.

“You say that like I’d go to prom with any girl,” Eddie snaps. “I’m not saying I’m going, I’m saying I would go with Chrissy.”

The fork is clutched so hard in your hand that you think it’s going to snap in half. 

“What’s wrong with wanting to go with anyone?” Jeff asks.

Eddie waves a dismissive hand at him and wrinkles his face up in distaste, not bothering to give a verbal response. 

“Hypocrite,” you mumble under your breath.

“I am not.” Eddie stares at you and your head jerks up in surprise that he heard you. 

“Yes, you are,” you say. “You’ve made fun of me all year for wanting to go and now because you have a crush, it’s different? Bullshit.”

“I changed my mind,” Eddie reiterates. 

“Fine,” you say with a huff. It’s not worth arguing with him over. 

“Maybe you should apologize,” Dustin suggests softly.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Come on, you have been on her ass about it all year,” Dustin says. 

“Thanks, Dustin,” you say. “But it’s fine.”

Eddie opens his mouth, but you don’t give him a chance to speak. Chair legs scraping against the floor, you push your seat back and stand up from the table. The guys all watch as you leave, dumping your tray in the trash before stalking out of the cafeteria. 

Arguments with Eddie rarely happened. They’re so rare that neither of you know how to react when you next see each other. Are you still fighting? Has it been long enough where you both can pretend like nothing ever happened? There’s no chance to talk to one another in your shared algebra class the next day, so it wasn’t until lunch that you really came face to face. Eddie’s at the table before you, and you plop down in your usual seat next to him. 

“We cool?” Eddie asks as you’re in the middle of lifting a forkful of mac and cheese to your open mouth. 

“Uh, yeah,” you say, eyeing him over your full fork. “I guess.” 

“Good.” He slouches down in his seat, as if he can relax now that he knows you’re on good terms. “Oh shit, here I got you something.” Eddie reaches into his metal lunchbox and pulls out a Three Musketeers bar. “Band kids are selling candy, so I bought your favorite for you. Hide it before Henderson gets here or he’ll steal it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a grin. This was exactly the reason why your feelings for Eddie would never go away. Just when he pisses you off to the point where you swear you’re never going to sit with him at lunch again, he turns around and does something sweet and thoughtful without expecting anything in return. 

“Breaking news, losers,” Gareth says as he drops his tray on the table. “I have a prom date.”

“Well shit, I guess hell has frozen over,” Mike says as he and Dustin join the rest of you. 

“You’re not a senior,” Jeff points out.

“No, but my date is.” Gareth’s smirk is enough to earn an eye roll from both you and Eddie. 

“Who’s that desperate?” 

Gareth throws a French fry at you - which you dodge - before he answers. 

“Calling Kel desperate?” 

“What?” you almost screech. “How are you going with one of the sweetest girls at school?”

“I’m super cool,” he says, making the rest of you bust out in laughter. 

“But seriously,” Jeff says.

“You’re all assholes,” Gareth says before digging into his food. “At least I have a date.” 

Eddie goes to reply, but you’re afraid of what he’s going to say, so you scoop up your backpack and excuse yourself to the bathroom. Once you step out of the cafeteria, you roll out your neck and shoulders, trying not to think of Eddie back in there talking about prom with the guys. You push the girl’s bathroom door open and breathe a sigh of relief when you’re the only one in there. Dropping your bag on the floor between your feet, you lean forward on one of the sinks and look at yourself in the mirror. A few deep breaths later, you feel your body relax. It’s short lived, however, when the door squeaks open on old hinges and two cheerleaders step in. 

You feel bad for the guttural reaction you have to seeing Chrissy’s blonde ponytail swinging behind you in the mirror. She is a complete sweetheart who wouldn’t hurt a fly, but the jealous green-eyed monster rears its ugly head and your fingers dig into the cool porcelain. 

“It really sucks,” the other cheerleader says to Chrissy. You know you’ve seen her around, but you don’t know her name. Both cheerleaders park at the sinks next to you to touch up their makeup. Chrissy throws you a bright smile and a friendly wave before taking her lip gloss out and turning back towards her friend. 

“I know,” Chrissy says. “I knew we were going to break up, but I was hoping for it to be after prom. How am I supposed to find a new date in a week?”

“I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that,” her friend assures her.

“I don’t know,” Chrissy says with a sigh. “Everyone probably has their dates by now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your pulse is raging in your ears and sweat is starting to make your hands slip against the sink. The internal debate rages inside of you. Do you let your jealousy get in the way of something that will make Eddie happy? It would throw away any shot you had of going to prom with Eddie yourself - but you know that was a long shot anyway. 

Still undecided, you take a step back from the sink, and your backpack falls over. You bend down to pick it up and the Three Musketeer bar falls out. It feels like your gaze should melt the chocolate that’s laying before you. Damn Eddie and his thoughtfulness at buying you the stupid candy. You toss it back in your bag, wincing as you prepare self-destruction. 

“Hey, Chrissy,” you say.

She turns to you with a smile, putting the top back on her lip gloss.

“Hey! What’s up?”

“I, uh, didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” you say as you slide your backpack on. You can’t manage to look her in the eyes as you speak. “But I know someone who doesn’t have a date yet.”

“You do?” She perks up in interest and the souring of your stomach almost keeps you from going further. 

“Yeah.” It sounds painful coming out of your mouth and you hope neither cheerleader notices. “Um, Eddie? Eddie Munson.”

“Really?” her friend asks. She crosses her arms over her chest and juts a hip out. You’re two seconds away from smacking the snotty look off her face when Chrissy speaks up.

“Eddie is great,” Chrissy says, looking over her shoulder at her friend before looking back at you. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Think he’ll say yes if I ask him?”

“I do.” Those two words were almost the hardest to get out. It was killing you how much of an understatement it was. 

“Okay!” The eagerness in her voice makes you want to cry. There’s no way you’ll be able to face Eddie back in there. 

“You can, um, ask him now if you want,” you say with a shrug. With a deep breath, you head towards the bathroom door. You stop halfway out the door and turn back around. “Oh, if Eddie asks,” you say, doubting he would because he’d be too consumed by the fact that his dreams were coming true, “can you just tell him I wasn’t feeling well and left?”

“No problem.” Her brow furrows in concern and she takes a step towards you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” It’s the biggest lie you’ve told in a while. “Cramps.” You put your hand to your lower abdomen and Chrissy gives you a sympathetic nod.

“Feel better!”

Without answering her, you walk out of the bathroom and down the hall, to the school exit. As soon as you slide into your car, the tears start. They start pouring so heavily and your hands shake so badly that you can’t put your key in the ignition. Momentarily giving up, you drop the keys in your lap and drop your head down to the steering wheel. 

Giving yourself enough time to get the worst of it out, you pull back and use your sleeves to wipe down your face. With a deep breath, you close your eyes and try to center yourself. After a few breaths in and out, in and out, you’re able to get the keys in the ignition on the first try. You pull your car out of the parking lot and head towards your house. The conversation you had with Chrissy keeps going through your head and you can’t keep from picturing the euphoric look that will be on Eddie’s face when she asks him. The saving grace you’re holding on to is the fact that Chrissy immediately defended Eddie to her friend. There aren’t many people in the school who would do that. 

Luckily, no one is home when you get to your house and you’re able to go inside and sulk in peace in your bed. More tears leak out as you hug your pillow to your chest. You must end up falling asleep because the persistent ringing of your doorbell jolts you awake sometime later. Heart racing from the adrenaline, you pull yourself out of bed and drag yourself to the front door. 

Eddie’s standing on the other side and it’s the first time his smile has ever broken your heart. 

“You are the best!” He swoops into your house and wraps you up in his arms. “Oh shit, sorry. I forgot, Chrissy said you’re having some girl pains.”

Right. 

“They’re better now that I’ve rested,” you say. “And you don’t have to thank me. Just doing what a good friend would do, right?”

“The best friend in the world!” He takes your head in his hands and presses a loud smacking kiss to your forehead. His happiness is infectious and despite your foul mood, a small smile curls on your mouth. 

“Now,” he says, taking both of his hands in yours. “We have to find a date for you.”

“Oh.” Your face drops and you shake your head. “I’m not going to go.”

It hadn’t occurred to you that Eddie would still be thinking about how you wanted to attend prom. The idea of his own perfect date should’ve been occupying his whole brain, but damn Eddie and his thoughtfulness. 

“What?” Eddie immediately frowns and it tugs at your heart. It tempts you to tell him you’ll go, but the mental image of Eddie dressed up and dancing with a flawless-as-usual Chrissy makes you bite your tongue. 

“You were right before,” you tell him. “It’s dumb and there’s shitty music. Plus, the dresses are way too expensive.” The dress you planned on wearing was already in your closet, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. 

“Are you sure?” Eddie dips his head down to meet your eyes. He raises an eyebrow at you questioningly. 

“Yeah,” you tell him. 

“I’m going to miss you there,” he says, and you almost slip up and laugh out loud at his statement. 

“Oh please, you’ll be having way too much fun to notice I’m not there.” 

“Like that could happen,” Eddie says with a skeptical look. 

You don’t bother arguing with him, even though you know he’s wrong. 

On your way to the cafeteria the next day, you can’t bring yourself to walk in. You know if you do then you’re just going to be hearing about plans for prom and you don’t trust yourself not to break down in tears in front of everyone. There was no way you could avoid the guys entirely until prom, but you couldn’t face them today. Eddie doesn’t want to be with you. He wants to be with Chrissy. And you have to make yourself seem okay with that somehow. Just not today. 

There’s a vending machine on the way to the gym, so you pick up a bag of crackers and a bottle of coke. The gymnasium is empty, so you take a seat on the bottom row of bleachers and start to eat your sad little lunch. It’s easy to let your mind wander, so you try to redirect it away from where it wants to go. Usual calming fantasies revolve around Eddie in some way, but that’s out of the question right now. 

Your mind can’t stray far from Eddie though, so you let your mind divulge in a little dark fantasy as you eat. What would happen if you just ran away? What would happen if you just threw some clothes in a bag and bolted? You would never actually do it, but imagining Eddie being sad over you leaving brings you a sick sort of comfort. Because he would miss you. You know he loves you, it’s just not in the same way that you wish. 

As you crumble up your wrapper in your hand, the gym door opens and a familiar hat over tousled curls walks in. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at you, as he walks your way with his hands in his pockets. Sneakers squeak across the shiny floor and come to a sudden halt as he stops in front of you. 

Dustin dips his chin down and raises his eyes to look at you. He takes one hand out of his pocket and holds it out to you.

“Yes?” you ask, looking between his eyes and his hand. 

“I know what you did for Eddie,” he says. “We all know. Except for him, he’s an idiot. But it really was a nice thing to do. I never could’ve done it.”

“Thanks,” you say skeptically, unsure of where he was going with this. 

“He told us you said you don’t want to go to prom. I know that’s bullshit. So,” he says, bringing his hand back and extending it to you again, “I am asking you if I may take you to the prom.”

Your eyes immediately well with tears as you look up at the boy in front of you. Dustin was always one of the sweetest people you knew, but this was taking it to a whole other level. 

“Oh, Dustin,” you say. You take his hand and tug his arm until he’s sitting on the bleacher next to you. “That is the sweetest offer I’ve gotten in my entire life. But I can’t go to prom.”

Dustin sighs and nods his head.

“Can’t see them together?” he asks.

“Correct.”

He wraps his arm around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“So, everyone knows, huh?” you ask. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you stare at Eddie a lot.”

The laughter that bubbles out of you is so unexpected that you bring your hand up to cover your mouth. 

“I know,” you admit. “I do.”

“And you look at him differently than you look at anyone else,” he says. 

“Like he’s an idiot?” you ask and Dustin chuckles. 

“No, I think we all look at him that way.”

You sigh and pick your head up from Dustin’s shoulder. You pat his arm and give him a grateful smile.

“Dustin Henderson, you are the best. And if I were going to go to the prom with anybody at all, it would be you.” 

“Well, when I go to my senior prom, I hope I go with someone half as awesome as you.”

That makes the tears spill over and you hastily wipe them off your cheeks. 

“God, I love you.” You throw your arms around his neck and give him the tightest hug you’ve given anyone in a while. He chuckles as he hugs you back.

“Who doesn’t?”

The night of prom comes, and you stand in your kitchen, alone in the house and in your comfiest sweats, making cookie dough. Screw warnings of not eating raw eggs, you were making this dough to eat, not cook. The last few days at school you went back to eat lunch with the guys but used a fake sore throat as an excuse for staying quiet and distant. You really only needed to fool Eddie though, since the other guys knew what was really going on with you. 

You take the bowl of cookie dough into the living room and set it down as you flip through the VHS tapes you’d rented earlier in the day. Steve had known about you not going to prom because, of course he did, Dustin tells him everything. You assured him it wasn’t a big deal, just wanting to get out with your movies. 

Settling on The Outsiders because you could stare at Rob Lowe all day, you pop the tape in and settle on the couch with your favorite blankets and your bowl of cookie dough. You can only eat about a quarter of the dough before your stomach has had enough. It sits on the table in front of you as you watch the rest of the movie. It’s not even eleven by the time the movie’s over but you don’t feel up to sitting through another one. You take the bowl of cookie dough back into the kitchen and stick it in the refrigerator. Thoughts of what’s happening at the prom have been trying to jam their way into your brain all night, but without the movie to distract you, those thoughts finally break in. Is there a slow song playing right now? Are Eddie’s hands on her hips or is one wrapped around her back while the other holds her hand? Is he having a good time? Are they playing any music that he likes? What did he end up wearing? You know you’ll end up seeing pictures but you’re not looking forward to seeing how pristine Chrissy is all dolled up when she’s naturally so beautiful on her own. Right now, you can imagine she’s wearing a garbage bag and her hair is all rolled up in curlers and her makeup looks like a clown’s. But once you see pictures, that illusion you’ve clung to will burst like a bubble in your heart. 

You press the heels of your palms to your eyes to try and stop the impending tears from falling. A few deep breaths and you get it under control. This heartbreak shit sucks. 

Before heading up to your room, you grab a water bottle from the fridge and your blanket off the couch. On your nightstand is a small radio and you click it on so you won’t be alone in silence with just your thoughts for company. The sheets feel cold and crisp as you slide into them. Putting your blanket back on top of you, you curl up on your side and nuzzle your face into your pillow. The light’s still on in your room, but you didn’t feel like getting up to turn it off.

The dial on your radio must’ve gotten knocked at some point - which happened often as you fumbled with things on your nightstand constantly - because smooth jazz starts playing and you huff a laugh into your pillow. You weren’t moving to fix that, either. When your parents come home, if you’ve already fallen asleep, your mom will turn both the radio and light off for you. 

But the jazz is actually more soothing the longer it plays. It calms your frayed nerves and helps you start to doze off, body finally giving in to the exhaustion you’ve been feeling from all the stress lately. 

In your half-asleep state, you hear your parents come home. They’re not exactly quiet walking around downstairs, but they also probably didn’t expect you to be sleeping this early. The thudding of your mom’s heels coming up the stairs echoes in the quiet hallway, drifting into you even over the radio. The footsteps keep coming towards your room and you’re looking forward to the sweet darkness you’ve craved when your mom gets to your room. But the lights don’t turn off. Instead, the bed dips next to you and you feel someone lay down beside you. 

She means well, you know, because she knew that you were bummed to miss prom, even if she didn’t know why. But the last thing you wanted right now was to have her try and talk to you about how you’re feeling. You know you’ll lose it and end up crying yet again. She stays quiet beside you though and you’re thankful for it. 

“I know you’re not asleep.”

The deep voice startles you and your eyes snap open. Eddie’s laying down on his side, facing you, head propped up on his arm. He’s smiling at you. It’s the first thing you notice before your eyes travel down, taking in the suit he’s wearing. Partially a suit, anyway. He’s wearing nice black slacks, which you didn’t even know he owned, with a maroon button up shirt. No jacket, but you’re not sure if he had one on earlier or not. He’s still your Eddie though, because he has his pick necklace on and his many rings adorning his fingers. 

“Look at you.” Your voice sounds a bit froggy between almost being asleep and all the crying you’ve done. “Not a stitch of denim in sight.”

Eddie chuckles. It sounds so nice. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask.

“Came by to see my best girl,” he says. Maybe he still says it out of habit, but you’re pretty sure you’ll be losing that title shortly. 

“But prom,” you say, whinier than you intended to. 

“It’s over,” he says.

You frown and crane your neck to see the clock on your dresser. The neon green tells you that it’s just after one in the morning. You must’ve dozed longer than you thought.

“How was it?” you ask, bracing yourself for the answer. 

“Pretty much how I expected it to be.”

“Oh yeah?” The fake smile on your face is starting to feel second nature, and you hate it. “Everything you’d hoped?”

“No,” he says with a laugh. He shakes his head and twirls the ring on one of his middle fingers with his thumb. “I was right the first time. Shitty music. Horrible punch - which Principal Higgins was guarding like he was trying to keep the Huns from invading China. People at our school can’t dance for shit, myself included. And to top it all off, my favorite person wasn’t there.”

Your brow scrunches together and you sit up in bed.

“She stood you up?” 

“What?” Eddie asks. When he realizes what you mean, he closes his eyes and smiles. “No, you dork. I meant you. You weren’t there.”

“Me?” you ask. The skepticism in your voice cuts right to Eddie’s heart. He frowns and scoots forward on the bed so he can rest his hand on your hip. 

“Yes, you. You’re doubting that you’re my favorite person?”

“Well, kind of,” you say quietly. 

“Why?” he asks, and his frown makes your heart plummet into your stomach. 

“It’s just, you were so excited to go with Chrissy.”

“I was,” he admits. “But just because I had a crush on a girl doesn’t mean that you’re not still my number one.”

Had. The one word sticks in your mind and you know there are other things you should say, better things, but the question is burning your tongue so it has to come out.

“Had a crush?” you ask. 

Eddie nods and rubs his thumb over your hip bone.

“Turns out a lot of crushes can go away quickly if you actually spend time with the person.”

“Did she say something? Do something?” you ask.

“No,” he says simply. “She’s great. There was just nothing to talk about after the first twenty minutes or so. She knows nothing about my interests, and I know nothing about hers.”

“Just didn’t click?” you ask.

“Yeah, exactly,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, mouth pursed in thought. “This is a horrible analogy, but it’s what came to mind. It’s like when a present is sitting there in front of you, and it’s wrapped beautifully. Ribbons and bows and all that jazz. You just stare at it and want it, imagining what kind of fun thing could be inside. Then, you finally get it, you can hold it in your hands. You open it and it’s a new shirt. It’s nice, but not what you were expecting. You don’t dislike the shirt, it’s just not the present you wanted.” 

“Look at you with the metaphors,” you say with a smirk. “Senior English three times and you’re a full-on scholar now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and playfully squeezes the skin at your hip.

“I was being serious,” he says.

“I know. And I get it. You kissed a frog who didn’t turn into a princess.”

“And you thought I had an odd way of putting it,” Eddie says with a laugh. “But I didn’t even kiss her before I knew there was nothing there. Once the excitement wore off it was pretty boring, actually.” 

“I’m sorry it wasn’t what you wanted,” you tell him honestly. 

“I’ve always known the prom itself would suck. Just thought it might be fun with the right date. And it might’ve been, but I didn’t have that.” He takes a deep breath and looks into your eyes. “I should’ve brought you.”

The tears are coming but you force them to hold their position. It’s hard not to yell at him that that’s what you’ve wanted all along. But there’s no point. Any begging or pleading before the prom wouldn’t have gotten him to agree to take you. So, instead of living in the ‘if you realized this sooner I could have gotten to go to my prom’, you let it go by and just appreciate the fact that he wishes he had gone with you instead of Chrissy. 

“But I’ve had an idea,” Eddie says as he pushes himself off your bed. 

“And what’s that?”

“Well,” he says as he walks over to your closet. “First things first, I’ve got to see what we’re working with here.” 

“Why?” You scoot down to the foot of the bed to see what he’s doing more clearly. He’s going through your clothes, inspecting every piece, and deeming them unfit for whatever scheme he’s cooked up in his brain. 

“You’ll see. Wait. Are you kidding me?” He reaches into the back of your closet and pulls out the gold dress that you had bought for prom. “You told me you didn’t get a dress!”

“How do you know I haven’t had that dress for a while?” But your blush won’t let you get away with the lie.

“Well for starters, the tag is still on it.” He brandishes it to you and you huff.

“Okay, yeah, yeah, I had a dress. But I didn’t want to go, and I didn’t think you’d end up riling through my closet anyway.” 

“Put it on,” he says, tossing its hanger into your lap.

“I’m sorry, what?” The dress tries to slide from your lap to the floor, so you pull it up and lay it down on the bed next to you.”

“Put it on,” he says slower this time, as if that should clear up everything. 

“Why?” 

“Because I want to dance with you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, I’d dance with you in your sweats, but I thought you might want to get all dolled up like me.” He smirks and runs his hands down the buttons of his maroon shirt. 

“You want to dance with me?” Maybe you’re still asleep and this is all a dream. 

“Yeah.” Again, he says it as if it’s something you do every day. His casual tone is making you think you’re the one who’s not making sense. 

“Okay,” you say as you stand. “I guess I’ll go change.”

“This is your room,” Eddie says, heading to the door. “Change here, I’ll wait out here.” He walks into the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind him. 

You slip the sweatpants down your legs and tug the sweatshirt off over your head. The single strapless bra you own is at the bottom of the drawer and you have to dig your way down to find it. The gold dress has a halter neckline so there’s no way you could wear a regular bra underneath. You squeeze the bra on, and even change your panties from blue ones with butterflies on it, to one of the few lace ones you own. 

The dress unzips easily and glides down your body as you get situated. You can’t zip it yourself, but Eddie can do that for you. Most of the makeup you own is in the bathroom, but you can make do with the little bit sitting over on your dresser. Looking in the mirror, you do a soft layer of makeup and then inspect your hair. It strikes you as funny when you see yourself in a golden dress with makeup on, but total bedhead up on top. You yank the scrunchie out of your hair and shake your head to toss your hair around. It looks better but not great. Your eyes land on a silver hair clip dotted with pearls and you reach up to tuck some of your hair back and secure it with the pin. There. The look is done. 

When you open your bedroom door you expect Eddie to be waiting there but you don’t see him. You stick your head into the hall and look both ways but see no metal head. 

“Eddie?” you call.

“Coming!”

He jogs out of your dad’s office a few doors down, carrying a few sheets of paper. Eddie comes to a halt as he takes in your appearance. Heat blooms in your face as you watch Eddie scan every last detail of this ensemble. 

“You look gorgeous,” he says. It’s enough to make you pass out, but you somehow stay standing firm.

“Thank you,” you say. “You look very handsome. Did I tell you that when you first got here?”

“No,” he says with a chuckle. “Just a remark about me not wearing any denim.”

“Which is truly a miracle. But you do look handsome. Very handsome.”

He smiles and takes steps towards you, paper still in his hands.

“What’s this?” you ask.

“I’m not very good at origami, but I did my best to turn this sheet of paper into a corsage.”

Your heart leaps at his words and it’s another battle of wills with your tears when Eddie slips his improvised flower on your wrist. Some tears win the battle, and they trail down your face. Luckily, you were smart enough to apply waterproof makeup. 

“Eddie, this is…” you trail off, not having the words to express how you’re feeling. 

“You wanted prom, so I’m giving you prom.” He takes both of your hands in his and guides you back into your bedroom. He closes the door behind him with his foot, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“Can you zip me up?” you ask. He nods and you turn around. His hands against your back sends a shiver up your spine and goosebumps break out over your arms. You hear him chuckle and he trails the tips of his fingers over your shoulders as you turn back around.

“What’s with the smooth jazz?” Eddie can’t help but laugh at the saxophone solo coming in over the speakers. 

“I hit the dial again.”

“Well, let’s fix that.” He bends down and turns the dial to find a good station. The static goes in and out, some songs coming through in pieces, or sounding like they’re underwater. It finally lands on a clear station and Eddie grins in triumph. “Perfect. Love Comes Walking In.”

“You know I love Van Halen.”

Eddie stands up straight and takes the few steps over to you. He bows in classic dramatic Eddie fashion, and he comes back up with a frown on his face.

“You’re not wearing heels. Or shoes at all.”

“Eddie, I would’ve kicked them off the moment I got there anyway,” you tell him with a laugh. “Barefoot is fine.”

“Just checking. Want this to be an authentic impromptu prom for you.”

You giggle and Eddie reaches his hand out to you. You take it and he instantly pulls you in and holds you against his body. It would be a miracle if he couldn’t feel or hear your heart beating so fast it’s like someone is dribbling a basketball beneath your ribs. His right hand takes your left and he twines your fingers together. His other hand snakes around your waist until it settles warmly on your back. You place your other hand on his shoulder and smile up at him.

“This is already better than actual prom,” he says. “Good music. Perfect date.”

Red rises to your cheeks and you duck your head shyly. 

The pair of you sway to the beat of the song, bodies moving along with the rhythm. Eddie spins you and it makes you let out a giddy peal of laughter. He pulls you back into him and you wrap both arms around his neck. He places his hands firmly on your waist as you start to sway again. 

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“You brought all the best parts of prom to me. I didn’t have to suffer through the shitty parts. I’ve got my dress, my music, my favorite person. It’s perfect, Eddie.” 

“I’ll dance like this with you anytime,” he says. “All you have to do is ask.”

The way he’s looking at you stirs some butterflies up that have been dormant until this point. He’s never looked at you this way and you’re not sure what it is. You know every Eddie facial expression and what they mean, but this one is new. His face is soft, and his eyes are wide, as usual. The brown irises are twinkling and there’s the barest smile on the left side of his mouth. 

“What are you thinking about?” you ask. 

“You,” he says. No further explanation, which leads your mind to grasping for answers as usual. 

“What about me?”

“Just…you.”

“Okay, I take back what I said about being a scholar now. You’ve lost the ability to words,” you say and wrinkle up your nose playfully at him. He catches you by surprise, though, when he leans forward and presses a kiss to the very tip of your nose. 

The blush you had before was nothing to the one now gracing your features. Eddie chuckles when he sees it and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. 

“Do you want to have another prom tomorrow?” he asks.

“What’s that entail? Dancing with you?”

“Yes.”

“Good music?”

“Of course.”

“Can I wear comfy clothes?”

“I’ll be wearing mine.”

“Hmm,” you hum, pretending to consider it. “Can we get food too?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say with a smirk.

“Is that a yes?” Eddie asks.

“Eddie, I’d have this kind of prom with you every single day.”

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Baby Formula

Dp x Dc Crossover

Duke was having a slow day when he heard the cry of outrage just across the street. He sees the store owner let go of the little kid he had latched onto and pull his hand close to his chest. The kid picked up the box he dropped and turned quickly to sprint away on tiny legs.

“He bit me!” The man screams as he stares angrily after the boy.

Instead of his training to intercept the thief and return the stolen merchandise, Duke follows his gut feeling and just tails the running boy.

From what he can see, the kid it young, maybe six he guessed (he’s not great with ages that young), with black hair and worn clothes. Homeless most likely, or a run away.

The boy slows down and hides in an alley to check to see if anyone is following. Duke takes this time to jump down in front of him.

Blue, blue eyes snap to him and widen in surprise.

“Hey, kid,” Duke greets casually, still crouched to get closer to his height.

The child shift from foot to foot, obviously debating with himself whether to run or not while eyeing him critically. Not easy to trust. Expected.

“Whatcha got there?”

Little hands grip the box of baby formula closer to his chest reflexively and then hides it behind his back. He shoves the water bottle fuller into the pocket of his too large hoodie.

“Nothin’.”

Duke hums.

“I don’t wanna get you in trouble,” he eases. “I just want to help.”

“I don’t need any help,” the boy denies immediately.

“You might not, but what about your baby sibling?”

The boy tenses and his eyes narrow dangerously. So Duke was right.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Why should I tell you?” The boy fires back venomously.

Duke shrugs.

“That’s fair. I’m Signal by the way.” No response, not that he was expecting one. “I do need to know that you guys are staying somewhere safe. You’re a really good brother for looking after your baby…”

The boy frowns. “Sister.”

“Your baby sister and getting her formula, but I’m sure you’d also like to be playing instead of stealing. Am I close?”

“I can help take care of Ellie just fine,” the boy defends hotly.

‘Help’. He’s not the only one.

“You can, but you shouldn’t have to. You’re just a kid too. I wanna help make sure you guys are taken care of. Nothing bad will happen if you show me where you guys are staying,” Duke tried to argue calmly.

He hasn’t had much experience with this kind of situation but he needed to make sure they were in a safe place. Child trafficking had gone down after Red Hood made his displeasure known, but it wasn’t nonexistent.

The kid shifts again.

“They’ll split us up if they throw us in foster care. You can’t call CPS. Promise you won’t.”

He didn’t even hesitate.

“I promise I won’t call CPS.”

The boy thrusts his free hand forward with his pinky out.

“Pinky promise,” he insists.

Duke has to lock down the smile that threatens to creep up on him. Professional. He needed to stay professional.

He wraps his gloved pinky around the tiny finger in front of him and reiterates the promise. Greasy, black hair flops as the boy nods sharply in acceptance.

“Okay.”

Duke does smile a bit then. “Okay, lead the way.”

The kid hesitates for a second before shaking his head and huffing. He leads the vigilante through back alleys for quite awhile before they come up to the back of an abandoned building.

The kid turns back to him with his hand on the edge of a piece of plywood blocking the entrance.

Duke couldn’t tell exactly what the boy was thinking, but he knew he was second guessing. However, with the bright glow this kid was giving off that make Duke think he was a meta of some sort, he couldn’t let him walk away.

The boy continues on like he didn’t even pause, pushing the board aside and slipping through the small crack. Duke follows closely behind as they travel through the place that looks like it used to be a restaurant that had burned down. They walk until they make it to the only room with light, a storage room, and find a red headed girl, older than the boy but still young, holding a baby as she boils something on an old burner.

She looks up and freezes when she sees him.

“Don’t freak out,” the boy interrupts.

“Danny,” she says slowly, her teal eyes zeroing in on her little brother. “Why did you bring one of them here?”

‘Danny’ pulls the water and formula forward sheepishly. Her eyes widen.

“Danny,” she says with disapproval.

“Ellie only has one pack left, Jazz, I had to do something.”

“You didn’t have to steal,” Jazz hisses. “Dan will be back with-“

“Yea, well, he forgot last time, so what were we gonna do then, huh?”

Four names. Four kids living in a burned to hell building that he’s surprised is still standing.

The two kids stare each other down until baby Ellie starts squirming and fussing, reaching for Danny. The boy huffs and takes the baby, looking almost comical with how small they both were.

“I wanted to make sure everyone was okay,” Duke said to alleviate the tension in the too small room. “I just want to help.”

“That’s what people say before they call CPS on us and we have to run again,” she glares harshly, standing from the floor. She didn’t even reach his shoulders.

“And I promised I wouldn’t.”

“He pinky promised,” Danny adds in a hushed tone.

Studying the other kids in the room, Duke can see that Ellie was as bright as Danny, just a different color, and Jazz only had a slight glow.

“How old is Dan?” He asks.

Jazz puckers her lips like she sucked on a lemon.

“Old enough,” is her answer.

“Nobody is in trouble,” he reassures.

Neither of the siblings answer for a minute, Danny nervously looking between the vigilante and his sister, and Jazz staring Duke down with narrowed eyes.

“He’s sixteen,” Danny confesses.

Jazz shoots him a scalding look, to which the boy shrugs off with no guilt, but doesn’t deny it.

The oldest isn’t old enough, which was what he was thinking, but it still put him in a weird position. Should he call Bruce? He should definitely call Bruce.

Jason would be so much better at this than Duke. The Alley kids love and trust Red Hood, but this technically wasn’t Crime Alley.

“I want to help,” he says.

Jazz folds her arms over her chest and he doesn’t blame her for her suspicion.

“How?”

Yea, he’s working on that.

“Who the f*ck are you?”

The snarl comes from behind him and he whirls around to see a teen that greatly resembles the boy. This must be Dan, but holy macaroni, he didn’t even hear him come in.

“That’s Signal,” Danny says, passing Ellie back to Jazz who takes her and steps back from the angry teen.

“Yea, I can see that. Why is he here?” Dan growls.

Danny squares his shoulders and lifts his chin.

“I brought him.”

Dan snaps his glare from Duke to the little boy.

“You WHAT?” The shout sounds too large in the small room and Ellie immediately starts crying. “What the hell are you tryin’ to do, you little sh*t?”

“Hey,” Duke says firmly, trying to redirect the anger to himself. “I would have followed him anyway, it’s not his fault.”

It doesn’t work because as soon as the words leave his mouth, he’s rounding on Danny again.

“I told you to stay here,” he points at the small boy who looks equally scared and defiant. “What were you doing out there, idiot?”

“You didn’t get formula last time,” Danny emphasizes the ‘you’ heavily. “So I went out and got some. You’re welcome.”

“You little-“

Duke intercepts the bulky teen when he lunges at Danny trying to grab the front of his shirt. From the way Danny backs up quickly, it’s not the first time.

“Knock it off,” Duke growls at the teen. “He’s a kid.”

“He’s a snot-nosed little brat,” Dan snarls at his brother and then turns his ire onto Duke, pushing the vigilante away with a giant shove. “And I’m guessing you’re gonna turn us over to those corrupt social workers, huh? Well good luck.”

“No,” Duke denies with his hands up. “I don’t want to do that. I promised I wouldn’t.”

“He pinky promised,” Danny insists behind Dan after the teen shifted to stand in front of his siblings.

“Shut up, twerp,” Dan snaps but doesn’t take his eyes off Duke. “Then what do you want, vigilante?”

This situation has escalated.

He lowers his hands to his sides to level with the guy.

“I just want to help,” he states for the umpteenth time calmly.

“Yea? And how you plan to do that?”

Dan has been burned before, Duke could tell. His distrust is valid with what he’s probably experienced in the past, and Duke doesn’t really know how to make the brightly glowing teen calm down and not snap his teeth (fangs? Were those fangs?) at any hand trying to reach out.

“I know a guy,” Duke blurts out. Geez, where was Babs when he needed backup?

“You know a guy,” Dan repeats with healthy doubt.

“He can find you a place to live. A place that isn’t a burnt down pizzeria.”

“You mean a foster home,” Dan glares.

Duke couldn’t really deny that.

“How about I talk to him and maybe we can set up a trial period? How does that sound? He’s got plenty of money and extra rooms to spare. Good food too,” Duke compromises. He hopes it’s enough to sweeten the deal and not set off red flags.

“We have a history with millionaires,” Jazz says with a cautious edge. From the dark look on the boys’ faces he can read it’s not a good kind of history.

“Technically he’s a billionaire,” he couldn’t help but say, “but he’s a good guy. I promise.”

“You’re talking about Bruce Wayne,” the red-head states in realization.

Duke thinks to himself that she would get along great with Barbara and not just because of their similar hair color.

“All I’m asking is that you trust me a little and give him a chance. If it doesn’t work out, he’s found homes for other kids before. He’ll make sure you guys stick together. I know how bad the system is, I get it, just… let me help. Please.”

The others look to Dan, the eldest, to make the decision. He glares hard at Duke, and if he hadn’t stared down actual super villains before, the vigilante might actually be scared.

After several long moments, Jazz speaks up in a hushed tone.

“I think we should try.”

Dan raises his lips in a silent snarl, clearly not liking her opinion, but not outright rejecting it. Danny huddles close to Jazz, gripping her shirt tightly, but looking between Dan’s broad back and Duke only a few feet away hopefully.

“One month,” Dan growls lowly and Duke has to keep the sigh of relief from escaping. “We’ll do this trial period for a month and that’s it. If we want to leave, then we leave and nobody calls the police on us. Got it, Yellowjacket?”

“Got it. I’ll talk to him. Just don’t leave, okay? I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Dan huffs and his eyes shift to the door in silent demand to get the hell out. Duke slowly makes his way over.

“Just don’t take it out on the kid. He was just trying to help,” Duke adds, trying to lessen whatever punishment Dan was going to give Danny after he left.

Dan snarls with, yes those were fangs, “Don’t tell me how to raise my brother.”

Duke lifts his hands to back off and then promptly leaves.

He grapples to the nearest roof and immediately calls Bruce.

“Hey, yea, I’ve got four kids you’re about to take in. You’ve agreed to a month trial because the oldest doesn’t trust the system and they all don’t have a good history with rich people. I’ll have Alfred get their rooms set up, but this is me letting you know. Oh, and one’s a baby so you’ll be paying for all the stuff that comes with that. They’ll be at the manor tomorrow so try to show up. Good talk.”

He left the voicemail as the only method of communication like a true Bat. Next was to actually tell Alfred and hope he doesn’t get the disappointed look, though he doubts he’ll get in trouble for helping out some homeless kids. The biggest obstacle will be Damian, but as long as there is some sort of buffer (i.e. Dick or Duke) it should be fine. Probably.

[queenshelby]

The Accident (Part One)

Pairing: Reader & Cillian Murphy

Warning: Accident, Child Birth, Abuse, Religious Themes

Thank you @blondie-22 for this amazing idea!

The streets of Dublin buzzed with life. Cars were honking, pedestrians chatting, and the distant sound of laughter echoing against the stone buildings.

As you navigated through the chaos to attend one of your medical appointments that day, your thoughts were cloaked in a heavy fog of fear and regret.

With each bump of the road, you felt the weight of your current situation settling deeper into your chest, an anchor pulling you down.

“Is this all there is to my life?” you muttered under your breath, the question steeped in resignation as you were pregnant again and due to deliver your second child. You had dreamed of freedom, laughter, and love, dreams that now felt like whispers of someone else’s life.

The cityscape blurred as you maneuverer through the crowded streets, a painful reminder of all you had sacrificed.

“What if I run away from all this?” you thought to yourself, but just as quickly as this thought appeared in your mind, fear clutched at your heart. “Was it even possible and, if it was, where would you go?” you questioned yourself. You weren’t even meant to be here, in this country and you had no insurance, no visa, no rights.

Suddenly, a blaring horn sliced through your contemplation.

Bam! The jarring collision jolted you as your car jerked to a halt. "Fuck!" you cursed as you gripped the steering wheel, a wave of pain radiating from your abdomen. A moment of shock enveloped you. You glanced up to see the other driver, a sharp-dressed man with striking blue eyes, scrambling out of his car.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you shouted, pushing the door open and stepping onto the asphalt, your heart racing. Every nerve in your body was tingling with adrenaline and distress.

His voice was raised over the noise of traffic. “I’m sorry! I was—” He ran a hand through his gray-streaked hair, obviously flustered. “I was distracted!”

“Distracted? By what?” you retorted, biting back your anger as the stranger looked down at your swollen stomach, not bothering to answer your question.

“Are you okay?” the stranger asked as he took a step closer, his eyes widening. "We should probably get you to a hospital," he said, seeing how you were at least seven or eight months pregnant. "You need to get checked out," he told you but you shook your head.

"That's not necessary, just give me your insurance details," you snapped, feeling no worse than you did earlier that day.

He hesitated, clearly conflicted. “Look, I’m really sorry,” he said, his voice softer now, the concern in his eyes apparent. “I will give you my insurance details, but I think you really need to get checked out because you are pregnant," you could hear the tremor in his voice.

“I am fine, but I am also in a rush, so can you just give me your details," you reiterated as frustrations poured out like a dam bursting.

“Please, I—” he began, but you cut him off, the rising pain in your abdomen drawing your focus. A tightening sensation gripped you, radiating outwards like ripples in a pond.

“Shit!” The breath left your lungs as what felt like an actual contraction surged through you. You doubled over slightly, clutching your belly, eyes wide with panic.

The stranger’s demeanor changed instantly. “I will call an ambulance," he announced, but you grasped his wrist and shook your head.

“No!” You spat out, rising back to your full height, anger battling with the pain. “No ambulance," you insisted, your voice strained. “I can’t...fuck," you cursed as, suddenly, you felt a pop inside, a desperate prelude to the reality settling in. You were going into labor—now, and fast.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” His voice was insistent. You caught a glimpse of genuine concern twisting with urgency in those piercing blue eyes.

"I mean I can't!" you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. “You have to help me!”

“Help you? How? I’m not—” he stammered, fumbling with his phone, glancing back and forth between you and the device as if it could conjure a solution as he watched your water break, your breaths coming out in labored breaths.

“Just focus, will you?” you snapped, the urgency in your tone stopping him mid-thought. “You hit me! You deal with it!”

"I am calling a fucking ambulance, if you like it or not," he insisted, the panic pushing through as he stepped closer again and guided you towards your car. “You need to stay calm,” he said, trying to exude a confidence he didn't quite feel. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

You snatched your gaze up to meet his and for a brief moment, the emotional chaos unfurled like a ribbon between you; there was fear, pain, and something that echoed with unspoken possibility. You swallowed hard, trying to chase away the rising tide of panic.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone” you started, but another layer of pain sliced through you, cutting off your protest as you watched the stranger call the ambulance.

"Yes, she is defiantly in labor. Corner of O'Connell and Abbey Street. You need to hurry!" he spoke into the phone, his voice steadying with purpose. As he hung up and turned back to you, determination flashed in his eyes.

"It hurts so fucking much," you gasped, gripping the side of your car for support. Your knees felt weak, and the pavement beneath you was cold and unforgiving.

"I know it does." There was a calmness in his voice as he moved closely again, scanning the alley around you. "Can you walk? We should get out of the street."

You nodded slowly, though every step felt like trudging through molasses. The tightness in your abdomen ebbed and flowed, and before you could respond, another wave of pain surged through you.

“Breathe, just breathe. In and out,” he instructed softly, eyes locked onto yours. “I’m Cillian, by the way.”

“Great, now we’re on a first-name basis, huh?” you retorted, but there was a small semblance of humor piercing through the tension.

"I am Y/N," you gasped as he guided you towards a nearby alley, away from the cacophony of the street. The shadows cast by the old buildings felt oddly comforting, a temporary sanctuary from the chaos outside.

"Y/N, listen to me," Cillian said, his voice steady despite the circumstances. "You’re strong. You can do this."

You let out a weak laugh as another contraction rolled through you, shoving down the warmth rising from the connection you felt in those words. "I’ve never been strong," you gasped, clutching your belly. “I’m just… scared.” The truth slipped out, raw and unguarded amidst the chaos.

"Being scared isn't such a bad thing," Cillian replied, his brow furrowed in concentration. "It just means you're about to do something incredible. Let’s focus on what we can control. Can you tell me what you feel?"

Another wave hit, harder this time, sending a shudder down your spine. "It feels like…I can't explain it," you stuttered, struggling to keep your composure. “Like I need to push," you shook your head, tears threatening to spill over. "I can’t do this here. Not here! Please… I can’t."

He took a deep breath, grounding himself amidst the turmoil. “Y/N, look at me. We don’t have a lot of time. If you need to push, let’s get you in a position that helps.” His voice was calm, but it bore an urgency that broke through your fear.

“What do you know about childbirth?!” you practically yelled as another contraction washed over you, not even sure why you were so mad—perhaps it was instinct, or the result of the situation spiraling out of your control.

“Not much, but I've done this before, about sixteen years ago, when my wife went into labor unexpectedly," he replied, pretending to be confident even in the face of your escalating panic. He was a good actor, that's for sure, and he knew that what you needed the most right now was someone who alluded to calmness.

"Alright, fuck! Let's do this," you gasped as you reached beneath your dress to remove your undergarments and reposition yourself against the cool brick wall of the alley.

Cillian knelt beside you, his presence steady and reassuring. With a few quick breaths, he murmured "push when you need to okay?"

You nodded, and with each contraction, you could feel the reality of what was happening. The walls of the alley faded, and all that existed were the sounds of your heavy breaths and the warmth of Cillian’s encouragement beside you.

“Y/N, you’re doing great,” he said, a note of admiration creeping into his voice. “Just keep breathing. I’m here, okay?”

“Okay…” you gasped, trying to focus on his voice rather than the overwhelming pain. The sharp, twisting sensations rolled through your body, and instinct took over. You pushed.

“Good! Just like that!” Cillian encouraged, eyes fixed on you.

You gritted your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut as you bore down, feeling the fire behind the pain intensifying. “Shit! This hurts!” you cried out, the sound echoing off the brick walls.

“I know, I know! Just a bit more, Y/N,” Cillian urged, his hands steadying you as you leaned against the wall, the coolness against your skin somewhat soothing. “This is it! You’re doing it! Keep pushing, you’re almost there!”

The tension in your body coiled tighter as the next wave came crashing in, and with a primal instinct, you pushed again, feeling a surge of energy mingled with agony. A strangled scream tore from your lips.

“Come on! Just a bit more!” Cillian’s voice broke through the chaos, a beacon of hope.

With each push, you could feel the world narrowing down to just you and this moment, this life you were about to bring into the world. Finally, with one last, gut-wrenching effort, the pressure exploded outward.

"I can feel the head I think," Cillian encouraged, his voice barely a whisper as he leaned closer, intense focus etched across his features. “You’re almost there, Y/N!”

You gasped, struggles ebbing into a wild, raw energy that pushed through the exhaustion. “I can’t… I can’t,” you cried out, tears pooling as the sense of impending life overwhelmed you.

“Yes, you can,” he coaxed, unwavering.

With a determined breath, you clutched at the cold brick wall, grounding yourself as the pain peaked again. You pushed. A shout echoed down the alley, raw and primal, fueled by an instinct far deeper than the immediate ache.

Cillian’s hands were there, ready, steady. “That’s it! One more strong push, Y/N!”

This was the moment you had been waiting for, the glimpse of a brighter future despite the past's shadows looming over you.

“Push!” His voice rose with urgency, pushing you along with him.

And then, with a final forceful cry, you pushed once more, feeling the world blur around you. Darkness crept in at the edges of your vision, but you could hear Cillian’s voice, vibrant and reinforcing amid the chaos.

“Breathe, Y/N! Breathe!” he urged, and somehow, that single command kept you anchored.

Suddenly, you felt it: the unmistakable release as your baby slipped into the world. A rush of warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, the pain faded into the background, replaced by a wave of power and wonder.

With a final surge of energy, you felt your daughter’s small body leave yours entirely. A loud wail pierced the alley, sharp and full of life, echoing off the walls like a celebratory shout. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart racing not just with pain but with overwhelming relief.

"You’ve done it!” Cillian exclaimed, his voice breaking as he gently cradled the newborn in his hands. “It’s a girl!”

Your heart swelled as you glanced at the tiny being. Tears streamed down your face, a mix of exhaustion and joy flooding through you.

Without words Cillian took off his jumper and wrapped her up in it, having instantly recognized the importance of warmth. “She’s beautiful,” he said, his voice brimming with awe. You marveled at Cillian in this moment, so focused and competent, a stark contrast to the chaos and fear you knew from the life you were trying to escape.

You then broke out in tears , the full weight of everything crashing over you. “I…I can’t believe I just did that,” you whispered, struggling to catch your breath.

Cillian knelt beside you, cradling the swaddled newborn in his arms. “You did," he said softly, his eyes bright with admiration. “And she seems pretty perfect.”

As you gently touched your daughter’s cheek, a warmth spread through you, a flicker of hope igniting in your heart. “What do I…what do I do now?” you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

“First, let’s get you both some medical attention. I am sure the ambulance is on it's way and they will take you to the hospital." Cillian said but that was not what you were thinking about.

“No hospital,” you said firmly, your heart racing at the thought. It was an instinctive refusal, a protective urge that coursed through your veins.

“Y/N, you need to be checked out,” Cillian replied, his voice a mix of concern and insistence. “You just delivered a baby in an alley. You’re going to need care. For you and her.”

“No hospital,” you repeated but the wail of sirens echoed through the streets already, drawing closer. Relief washed over you despite the circumstances. You turned your gaze back to the baby cradled in Cillian’s arms, her little face turned towards you, tiny fists waving in the air.

“She’s so perfect,” you murmured, awe weaving through your voice.

“She is,” Cillian confirmed, his eyes sparkling with pride. “What are you going to call her?" he asked and you quickly responded.

“Mika.” The name slipped out of your mouth before you fully realized it was the one you had secretly cherished. “Mika… it means ‘new moon ,’” you whispered, hoping that with your second daughter having been born, you would find a way to new beginnings.

Cillian's gaze softened, understanding the significance. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he said gently just as the ambulance screeched to a halt at the mouth of the alley, its lights flashing an urgent dance of red and blue.

“See? Help is here,” Cillian said, glancing up as the paramedics jumped from the vehicle, faces serious but efficient.

You held your breath, part of you hesitant to let go of this moment—the intimacy of the alley, the fragile life cradled between you, and the bond you had formed with this stranger less than an hour ago. But reality swirled around you, heavy and looming.

“Okay,” you conceded, your voice barely a whisper. You took a shaky breath, rejuvenated by a flicker of spirit. “I’ll go with them to get checked out," you told Cillian who seemed instantly please.

“Good,” Cillian said, a small smile breaking through the worry etched on his face.

The paramedics approached, two women with kind but focused expressions, as you shifted from Cillian to their care. One of them knelt beside you, her tone warm and reassuring. “Hi there! You did such an amazing job. Let’s see that little one,” she said, her hands expertly taking Mika into her arms before turning to you, “and let’s make sure you’re feeling alright too.”

Cillian stepped back slightly, allowing the paramedics to assist. “It was nice meeting you Y/N,” he said, the pride and relief in his eyes shining through before he asked the paramedics which hospital they were taking you to.

You glanced up at him, the weight of everything beating hard in your chest. “Thank you, Cillian,” you said softly, ache filling your voice as you realized how much more than just a stranger he had been to you in the chaos. "I couldn't have done it without you," you said and Cillian held your gaze, his blue eyes flickering with an intensity you couldn’t quite understand.

“You did everything, Y/N. I just happened to be there,” he replied, his tone earnest and protective. "I will visit you and Mika at the hospital later if that's okay," he then added, his words filled with genuine concern.

"Really?" you asked, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over you. It felt strange to have someone who cared, especially after everything you had endured.

"Of course. I want to make sure you both are okay," he nodded, his expression serious.

The paramedic gently placed Mika into your arms, a fresh wave of overwhelming emotion coursing through you as you cradled her. She was so small, so fragile, and full of life. “You’ll be okay, little one,” you whispered, tears brimming again as you gazed down at her while the stranger quietly disappeared from the scene, attending some matters relating the accident as police too arrived and began to take statements from those involved and you wondered whether you would ever see him again.

"It's not every day an Oscar winner delivers your child now, is it?" one of the paramedics said teasingly after Cillian had disappeared and you did not know what she was talking about.

"What do you mean?" you asked she was already helping you into the ambulance with Mika swaddled close to your chest.

“Cillian Murphy? The guy who just helped you deliver your daughter," the paramedic explained, her voice tinged with excitement. “He’s a big deal around here. You're lucky!"

You blinked, momentarily stunned but didn't really care. You haven't watched a movie in years, and you most certainly did not feel lucky about the situation you were in.

Your life was a mess. It was awful and complicated, but as you sat in the ambulance, the warmth of Mika against you felt like the first tender thread pulling you from the darkness.

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[tortillamastersblog]

➶A big misunderstanding | Kate Bishop➴

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Since she joined the team, you can’t help but notice how weird Kate acts whenever you’re around…

Part 2

________________________________________________

Walking into the kitchen, I smile at the smell of pancakes that greets me.

“Good morning,” I say cheerfully as I round the corner.

I’m greeted by Sam, Bucky, Natasha and Kate. They’re all standing around the stove where Kate is flipping pancakes.

“Morning,” Bucky greets softly before turning back to the pancakes.

Sam and Nat send me smiles before also turning back to the stove. It’s like they’re dogs, drooling over a bone.

I chuckle softly and approach them, looking over Kate’s shoulder to appreciate the pancakes that are currently cooking in the pan.

“Smells great,” I compliment with an exaggerated inhale which is apparently the wrong thing to do because Kate shrieks in surprise and throws her arms up.

It results in her smacking the spatula into my face and I stumble back with a groan, covering my eye with one hand.

“Jesus!” I exclaim. I slap Sam’s shoulder to get him to stop laughing and send Nat and Bucky a glare to get them to stop smirking.

Kate spins around with wide eyes and lifts her arms as if to touch me before dropping them again. “Oh my God, Y/N! I’m s-so sorry… I didn’t mean to— I swear, I didn’t even realize you came in, I just—“

I raise a hand, effectively cutting her off mid-ramble. “It’s okay, Kate.”

I wince and lower my hand slowly, blinking to test if my eye still hurts. It does but it’s now no more than a dull ache rather than the stabbing pain it was when she actually hit me.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Kate reiterates, her face scrunched up in guilt. She eyes me a moment longer before snapping out of whatever trance she was in and pulls and bag of frozen peas out of the freezer. “Here, take this.”

I laugh softly and take it from her, pressing it against my eye. “Thank you. It wasn’t entirely necessary, but thank you.”

Kate smiles nervously and goes to say something else when Bucky suddenly yelps behind her. “The pancakes!”

I look past Kate to see smoke rising from the pan. Sam and Nat watch in amusement as Kate scrambles to salvage the goods, but in the end she hast to throw out the batch and pour new dough into the pan– Much to Bucky’s dismay.

It’s not long after that the rest of the team comes sauntering into the kitchen. The small table gets set, rather than the big one in the dining room, and everyone starts loading their plates with pancakes and fresh fruit.

“These are great, Kate,” Steve compliments after swallowing his first bite.

The rest of the team murmurs their agreement around mouthfuls of food. Kate smiles bashfully and takes a sip of orange juice.

Cute…

“Yeah, they’re great,” I add with an approving nod which makes Kate’s eyes widen. She almost chokes on her orange juice and I frown, not having anticipated such a reaction.

“You good, kid?” Tony asks, his eyes twinkling mirthfully.

Kate’s eyes dart around the table, widening when they land on me before quickly snapping back to her plate. “Fine… Totally fine,” she chokes out.

I go to say something else, apologize maybe (for what I’m not exactly sure) but then she abruptly stands up and excuses herself from the table.

When she’s gone everyone looks puzzled. Well, almost everyone. Everyone except Nat who smirks at me with a knowing glint in her eyes.

I raise my brows in question, but her smile just widens and she turns back to Bruce to continue their conversation.

The rest of the table also resumes their usual morning chatter which leaves me in stunned silence.

What was all that about?

A week after the spatula incident in the kitchen, Steve stops me in the hallway. I just got back from the gym and am all sweaty and gross, so I only reluctantly agree when he passes me a comms device and asks me to bring it to Kate.

“Hers broke on the last mission,” he explains, “and Tony wants her to have it before we move out later.”

I sigh and make my way to the archery range where I know she is with Clint this time of day. We haven’t seen much of each as of recently and I’m starting to get the feeling it’s because she’s been avoiding me.

I enter quietly and wait for Clint to finish explaining something before approaching. “Hey guys.”

Clint nods and raises a hand in greeting. Kate’s eyes find mine for a second before they drop to roam over my exposed arms and shoulders. Her jaw slackens and I scratch my neck uncomfortably, not being used to this type of scrutiny.

I should have shower and changed before coming here, I think.

Clint watches the two of us with growing amusement before clearing his throat pointedly. “Y/N, what brings you by?”

Kate snaps out of her stare and looks around for a distraction. Her eyes land on the bow rack next to the arrow stand and she moves to put her bow away.

“Steve sent me,” I explain, raising the comms device. “Bruce managed to fix it.”

Clint clicks his tongue. “Right, yes. Tony mentioned it would be ready before we move out.”

I hand him the device before lifting the bottom of my shirt to wipe some sweat off my forehead.

Christ, I’m sweating like a pig…

In that moment there’s a loud crash and my head whips around to find Kate scrambling near the wall, trying to pick up all the bows she must have just knocked over.

I rush over to help her, but she winces when I crouch down next to her. “I’ve got it,” she snaps, her eyes trained on her shaking hands.

I gulp and freeze for a second. “Kate, let me help—“

“No,” she cuts in, snatching a bow from my hands and whispering another, “No.”

I’m just trying to help. Why is she being like this? The rejection that spreads through me is like a punch to the stomach. So she has been avoiding me. Why else would she be acting like this?

Did I do something wrong? I think about all our interactions since she joined the team, but I can’t come up with even a single instance where I might have done her wrong, or pissed her off.

I watch Kate for a second longer, hastily picking up the bows, before getting up. “Fine,” I mumble dejectedly. “Good luck tonight,” I add, referring to her upcoming mission with Clint.

She doesn’t look up or reply, so I back away with a frown.

Clint’s expression mirrors my own when I turn his way and he shrugs when I send him a questioning look.

I sigh and leave with a timid wave, not sparing another glance at Kate.

“Wanda?” I knock on the redhead’s door, waiting for a response. “Can I come in?”

Red wisps appear around the doorknob and the door opens.

I step inside to find Wanda at her desk with her back turned toward me. “Just a second, Y/N,” she says softly, typing away at her computer for a moment longer before turning around with a small smile.

“What can I help you with?” she asks as I close the door behind me.

I sit at the edge of her bed and fidget with my fingers. “You’re a pretty good judge of character, right?”

“I guess so… Why?” she says slowly.

I let out a shaky breath and look up to find her watching me curiously. “Do you think I’m a bad person?” I inquire.

There’s a beat of silence before Wanda gets up and sits next to me on the bed. She’s always been like a sister to me, so I trust her when she rushes to say, “What? No, of course not!”

I chuckle sadly and bite the inside of my cheek.

“Why would you think that?” Wanda pushes, her hand landing on my shoulder.

“I—“ I pause and think of how to phrase what I’m about to say next before delving into everything that has transpired between Kate and I.

It’s a lot and by the end of it I realized how much all of it has been getting to me. I’ve always thought of myself as a forthcoming, friendly person, but Kate’s blatant rejection of my company or care has me doubting all of it.

What’s surprising is that once I’m done talking, there’s a moment of silence before Wanda starts laughing next to me.

I scoff and eye her incredulously. “Hey! What’s so funny? I pour my heart out to you and you laugh?!”

Wanda tries to stifle her laughter by pressing her hand to her lips, but it does nothing to hide the mirth in her eyes.

“Hey!” I exclaim again, getting up, but Wanda grabs my arm and pulls me back down next to her.

“Wait,” she says around a huff of amusement. “I’m not laughing about your pouring your heart out. I’m laughing because you’ve got it all wrong.”

My annoyance quickly turns into curiosity. “Huh?”

Wanda shuffles closer and fixes the rumpled collar of my shirt. She’s such a mom…

“You’re not a bad person, by any stretch, Y/N/N,” she explains, her voice soothing. “And Kate’s not avoiding you because she hates you.” She emphasizes the hate part because those are the exact words I used to describe my relationship with Kate. I open my mouth to object, but Wanda is quicker, adding, “Quite the opposite actually.”

I stare at her, not knowing what to say until a disbelieving laugh bubbles out of me. “What are you talking about, Wanda? Kate doesn’t like me!”

Wanda raises an eyebrow and watches me expectantly as I continue to laugh.

“No! She can’t— She doesn’t—!” I stop myself abruptly when it dawns on me. Maybe what Wanda is insinuating isn’t that far fetched… It would certainly explain why Kate, a usually composed and precise person, turns into a fumbling, stuttering mess every time I’m around.

It would also explain her abrupt departures every time she knocks into me, or drops something around me. She’s not avoiding me because she doesn’t like me, she’s avoiding me because she’s embarrassed.

“Oh my God, Kate likes me,” I whisper and it’s as if Wanda’s words have lifted the fog in my mind that appears every time I think of the young archer.

I can see clearly now how she wasn’t judging me for being sweaty and gross at the range earlier. She was checking me out.

And when she knocked all the bows off the bow rack… It’s because I pulled my shirt up.

I turn to see Wanda beaming at me and as if the realization of Kate’s feelings toward me wasn’t enough already, I suddenly know why it’s hurt me so much that she’s been avoiding me.

She’s funny, and kind, and can be such a dork sometimes, it’s adorable…

Oh shit!

My ears heat up and I quickly look away when Wanda raises an eyebrow. “It is adorable,” she affirms with a smirk and I nod until it registers what she just said.

I freeze, horrified, and stare at her wide-eyed. “Did y-you just read my mind?”

Wanda laughs and raises her hands defensively. “I can’t help it if your thoughts are so loud!”

I groan and jump to my feet. “Wandaaaa!”

Wanda gets up too and grimaces apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. I swear.”

I take a deep breath and rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Just— You can’t tell anyone about this. Not a single soul, you hear me?”

Wanda grabs my wrists and pulls my hands off my face. “I wouldn’t dare,” she says sincerely before adding, “You’d make a cute couple though.”

“Aargh!” I shove her aside and make my way to the door. I’m pretty sure by now my whole face and neck is as flushed as my ears.

Wanda cackles unapologetically and I roll my eyes, leaving her room without looking back.

Well shit, what do I do now?

________________________________________________

[anon-sect]

Picture source: Instagram account @giantsOleprince

Can I Be Your Toy?

Randy was playing his favorite game when his close friend randomly asked him a question. Tom came over to chill with him on a Saturday afternoon as he usually does. Normally, they chat over small talk and play video games together. This particular Saturday, Tom just wanted to watch him play, which he didn't mind since he was playing a solo game when Tom arrived. The question caught him off guard that he paused the game. He was slightly confused at what he meant. "Repeat the question again." He requested to make sure he wasn't hearing things.

"Can I be your toy, please?" Tom asked. He was an average built male 5'8" tall while his close friend Randy was 6'1" with a muscular built frame and very athletic. He rather admired him very much.

Randy was still confused about the question. He did hear him correctly. "What do you mean about being my toy? It's a rather strange question, honestly." He spoke, wanting Tom to clarify what he really was asking.

"I want you to shrink me and turn me into a toy for you to play with." Tom clearly defined what he was requesting of his friend even though it sounded rather strange.

Randy was silent for a moment. "So you want me to shrink you to a toy size and play with you? How?" He asked, getting curious as to why he really wanted that. "I am not really a toy guy." He added.

"You could play with me using your feet or put me on a shelf for display, or just have fun doing whatever with me." Tom explained, clearly not shy about his strangely honest request.

Randy didn't know what to think at the moment, so he just laughed at how Tom explained it. "You do know that is a rather strange request. Really, who would want to be a small toy for another guy to play with? Are you sure you are okay?" He asked, not necessarily interested in what Tom asked. He went back to his game.

Tom saw Randy dismissed his request. "I am fine, but I am also really serious. Can I be your toy?" He reiterated back, causing Randy to pause his game again and look serious at him.

Randy saw Tom wasn't joking about what he asked. "Why would you want that so badly?" He asked. He was curious why his friend would even want that.

"It's your big feet, really. I admire them. Kinda had a fantasy of being at their mercy." Tom paused, staring at his friend's size 13 feet. "Often, I have imagined you gaming while playing with me with your feet like a little plastic toy." He added.

Randy saw that his friend would keep asking if he didn't grant his request. He decided to relent. "On one condition, though. Once you are my toy, I keep you that way as long as I want. And you are at my pleasure and fun, not yours." He set the perimeters of his condition.

"Fine with me. I won't complain." Tom quickly spoke up with a big smile on his face.

"In fact, I won't hear you complain if you did. You will be a motionless and voiceless plastic toy under my big feet." Randy laughed he got up and went to his kitchen. He came back with a glass with a strange liquid and a small pill. He handed him the pill and glass. "Swallow this and drink the entire contents of the glass."

Tom obeyed his friend. He swallowed the pill and drunk the strange liquid. It slightly tasted like dirty socks water. It was rather nasty taste. "What now?" He asked him.

"You will see." Randy spoke, smiling back at him.

Tom felt weird a second later. He was rapidly shrinking inside his clothes. In seconds, he was small. His body then hardens like hard plastic. He was completely surrounded by the clothes he was wearing previously. He saw Randy fish him out and hold him in his hands.

"I waited for you to take this form before telling you the rest, just in case you had a change of mind. The pill and drink you took makes it permanent. The only way to change you back to normal is to swallow the reversal pill." Randy paused, examining his new foot toy. "But seeing that you are hard plastic, that is impossible. So, you see you are stuck this way." He paused again as he placed his foot toy on the table. "I was enjoying my game till you brought up that question and your refusal to accept no would have annoyed me. So, I granted your request." He laughed as he resumed playing his game. He began to play with his foot toy under his feet, not much paying any attention to it. He was more focused on the game.

Tom had mixed feelings about his new situation. He only wanted to be a toy for a little while not permanent. He was still enjoyed being under Randy's feet though. HIs feet had a little foot odor, but nothing terrible yet. He started to see that Randy was either not paying him any attention or was enjoying his foot toy. He pressed on him more and more, even sometimes using both feet. But he still had mixed feelings. Being Randy's foot toy was nice, but he wasn't exactly happy about it being permanent. He had to admit that he got himself in this situation. Unfortunately, there was no way out for him.

After an hour of gaming, Randy really felt relaxed. Having Tom as his foot toy really made his game time relaxing and more enjoyable. It felt good actually dominating Tom under his feet like a toy. He looked down at him helpless and stiff as he stepped on him and played with him with his toes. He felt powerful seeing Tom helpless under his feet. "This was a great suggestion, buddy. You make a great foot toy. I am glad I get to keep you permanently this way. I think I will game this way every time. Way more fun to play with my foot toy while I game." He laughed as he went back to focusing on the game.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for complaining that someone kept rejecting me in an rp?

I'm in an rp server with some other people and everyone is free to do rps as they wish. The rp channels are open so people can jump in and join if they want to. I saw that there was this other person (Shade) playing as the character that was the other half of my favorite pairing for female avatar ship. The group was going off a script that everyone could come from different timelines, but some people could be from the same one.

So I hopped in on the rp Shade was doing with their friend Schemes as female avatar. Shade had said prior that they were fine with any pairs, so I tried saying that female avatar and their character were dating but they went with "I'm sorry. Who are you again?" I had my character explain and they go. "Oh! You're not the one I know. You're being weird." That was a little rude of them especially since right after, someone playing as the male avatar stepped in and they acted close to them instead.

I decided to leave it be for awhile before rejoining a few days later. This time, Shade responded with: "Don't misunderstand! But I really can't! I… I know that you were close to someone who looked like me, but it wasn't me. So you should go look for that person instead! I am perfectly fine without it! We should just remain friends! You're not the same person I know, so that would make things harder. But we could just be friends it is better that way. I can't see myself being with you. Being just friends is more beneficial for the both of us. I will never date you, but we could be friends."

I would have been fine with it, but at this point, that was the 5th rejection. Each becoming more cruel than the last. That was what was annoying to me. They insistently repeated "friends" over and over again, so it felt like a stab to the heart. Some of the others (Lucy and Hearts) who usually joined hopped in and said that Shade was being a bit rude with the rejection. But Shade insisted on keeping it like that and reiterated that "We are just friends and we will always only be friends."

I complained to the mods about this and Shade was given a warning for not playing nice with everyone and forbidden from having their character pursue a relationship with the male avatar which I am glad for. Shade and Dan (person playing the male avatar) then reported me and said I was making people uncomfortable. So I got a warning too and the mods lifted that ban on their relationship attempt. They also told me i could get banned if i did it again

So AITA for complaining that someone kept rejecting me in an rp?

What are these acronyms?

[that-student-that-has-homework]

If you’re still doing the 100 follower HC request, would love Zoro and prompt about How they are when you take care of them when they’re hurt! 🫶🏽

it’s still open! Thank you for the ask 💚

I’ve been wanting to try my hand at Zoro, so I’m hoping this is in character!

Submit an Ask Here

Zoro Headcanons: How he is when you’re taking care of him when he’s hurt

We have seen Chopper’s struggles with handling an injured Zoro.

The man has a dream to make into a reality so you best believe he doesn’t have time for this resting thing

He’ll just sleep it off, no problem

So he sleeps

You were assigned to watch over him and make sure he doesn’t do anything to undo Doctor Chopper’s hard work

Why?

Nami and Robin tipped off the cute little doctor that you had a way of convincing the future world’s greatest swordsman of things

When he wakes up, he is raring to go

“Chopper said you were confined to bed rest until…uh…well, for three days”

“Hah? Like hell I am, I feel fine!”

“Dear Zoro, you must understand that rest is a part of training.”

He does not appreciate your tone

He also does not believe you

You have to dumb things down a little bit and finesse them to even convince him to listen to you explain how the body works on a basic level

Chopper is nodding along with his arms folded across his fluffy little reindeer chest the precious doctor

He came in to check on Zoro and stayed for your lecture

“Alright! Alright! I get it already so just be quiet.”

“So you’re going to rest then?”

He isn’t the most cooperative, but he does relent

Especially when you reiterate things in a much firmer tone and explain how if he doesn’t rest, he can risk never getting to hold a sword ever again

You stress how resting can make him stronger, again

He actually listens this time, kinda

He really is just attempting to sleep it off and try again when he wakes up

He is not happy when you still won’t let him have his way

Initially he isn’t the happiest camper that you’re taking care of him

He’s kind of embarrassed annoyed that you’re stuck looking after him

It’s annoying he even got himself into this kind of state

If he were stronger you wouldn’t need to bother with any of this to begin with

Quickly becomes annoyed with your hovering

Becomes annoyed with how you don’t let him do anything for himself initially

He was confined to bed rest by Chopper and you followed the doctor’s orders diligently

So diligently that you set up camp in his sleeping quarters to make absolutely sure he behaves himself

He’s convinced your Observation Haki is specifically honed to him

Whether you have Haki or not, he feels you must have Observation Haki with how he can’t sneak past you at all.

He does appreciate you though

He overhears you negotiating walks for him early on, and while he does try to push his limits, he’s a touch more cooperative

It’s still annoying that you’re blocking his training area, but it’s even more annoying when it’s someone else blocking him off

He starts wondering where you’ve gone when he wakes up and you’re not there

(He still can’t get any training done)

(You hid his stuff and have all sorts blockades to his training zone)

He kind of got used to taking your meals together, so when he’s well enough to wander around, he will summon you for lunch time

He is grumpy with you forcing him to pace himself with his training when he is allowed to resume it

you did have to hide his weights

You also fought Luffy a bit for revealing your hiding place and had to hide them somewhere else

Borderline threatened you (he employed heavy intimidation) if you wouldn’t give his stuff back

Was impressed with how you stood your ground and didn’t cave

Becomes a touch more cooperative after that

The crew has some fun reactions to watching Zoro suffer through recovery

Chopper is overjoyed with how Zoro is actually properly resting for a change

Robin is deeply amused by how the self-proclaimed wild beast has been tamed

She enjoys helping you with your attempts to force him to go through recovery properly

Sanji is not pleased with all the attention Zoro is getting from you

Luffy tried debating you to let Zoro do whatever once, did not dare to try again

Nami is smirking and enjoying watching Zoro slowly lose his mind

She attempts to extort him and it doesn’t work (he doesn’t understand how you have a sixth sense for him ignoring Chopper’s Doctor’s Orders but at least you saved him some berries)

Usopp keeps trying to reason with Zoro in your favor. His results are…well he tried at least.

Brook tries to lighten the mood with music. It doesn’t go very well.

Franky is mostly indifferent and mentions that if Zoro had a SUPER body like his then he wouldn’t need nearly as much recovery time.

Zoro considered it for a moment if just to get you off his back

Immediately disregards it when you liken being a cyborg to cheating his way to being the greatest swordsman.

While he didn’t like being hovered over, he does feel like something is missing when you don’t watch over him anymore

He’s allowed to go full power after a while of being forced to lower sets

Shocks himself with new records

Seems you were right about this resting thing

You returned all his weights and things

You’ve also resumed your own stuff and he doesn’t see you nearly as much anymore

So now he naps wherever you are

Complains when you nag him to rest on a bed / soft surface

Is confused at why he kinda enjoys it

Complies anyhow

He’s woken up to you asleep at your workstation/desk and carried you to bed because he’s kind like that

Still makes you take your meals with him

Will seek you out and drag you to the kitchen

Says something about “resting” and “building strength”

It’s touching that he seemed to listen to you…

Or so it seemed until he goes all out again, and now you're stuck babysitting both him and Luffy because you’re weak to Chopper and the cute doctor asked you for help after fawning over how great you are at forcing rehabilitation on the most stubborn of idiots.

[salt216000]

I saw a post today that made me quite upset. Normally I'd just ignore, but I read some of the tags and they upset me quite a bit too.

Username is cropped out because I don't want to make it seem like I'm putting 'em on blast, I just want to give my opinion on this.

Transfem headcanons of Gabriel are absolutely fine. Awesome, even. But not while putting down transmasc headcanons at the same time.

The post makes a really interesting and good point! Transfem Gabriel does work well with his narrative of growth and discovery of his own identity, especially as someone cast out of Heaven for not achieving the ridiculous standards they set. That is a really good notion that, yes, being entirely honest, I don't see as frequently from that angle.

But you do NOT have to say it is a 'failure of the fandom' and pin the blame on more people headcanoning him as transmasc. If you want transfem Gabriel content then you can make it: art, writing, musings, anything, but you don't have to put down other creators for projecting their own ideas and potentially their own experiences onto a character they like and relate to.

I'm going to preface this next part with: I am NOT disparaging against transfem Gabriel headcanons, or giving reasons as to why they shouldn't exist. All I am doing here is clarifying why people tend to headcanon him as transmasc. Francis Xie was hired by Hakita to draw concept art, and he is known for drawing a lot of artwork of Gabriel (some NSFW in nature, as a warning in case you decide to look for yourself), and in said artwork he depicts his headcanon of Gabriel being transmasc. Of course, this is not gospel, it is not officially canon and even if it was people are allowed to headcanon him as whatever they want, I only bring this up to help explain why the headcanon may be so popular.

More personally, I find it really gender affirming to have a character in the ballpark of masculine in frame and voice, but to see him wear more feminine clothing in official artwork without it being degrading. It's very nice to see a depiction of this to help push back against the reinforcement that masculine presenting people must conform to certain standards, and that's why I personally enjoy the headcanon too.

There are also a decent few characters that DO get more transfem rep: Mirage, the mindflayers, mannequins, V2, so I don't understand why it's a problem that it is the minority with Gabriel. I wasn't originally going to post this publically, but these tags pushed me to do so:

Username once again cropped out for the same reason as above. To be clear, these are NOT OP's tags.

I don't care what the original tone OP meant was, if it was joking or playful or whatever else, because the sentiment that that post gathered is absolutely wretched. I don't have much else to say about it without getting deeper into gender stuff that I don't want to extend this post with, but I'll reiterate my main point.

You can be upset that there aren't headcanons that represent a certain idea you prefer, but DO NOT put down others who have contrasting ideas in the same breath. If you want to make a post about Gabriel being transfem being a great narrative, go for it, no one will stop you, but do not fucking wrap in a 'transmasc headcanons are wrong and don't get it, and my headcanon is more correct', and at those tags in particular, do NOT treat transmasc headcanons like this, 'transmasc pandemic' is such an awful way to put it and makes me feel as though a line in the sand is being further drawn between transmascs and others who are not.