#and have gotten to meet some cool new people

[shoesallinaline]

Because apparently I'm a glutton for having no social life, I've decided to do a third musical in a row, that also overlaps with the musical I'm currently in, and will also overlap with the musical I'm directing in the summer.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Good!GIW Thoughts

After I wrote the Multiverse Police prompt, I've gotten a few replies and reblogs saying they've never seen good!GIW before, and I realized, wow, me neither!

The GIW are always the bad guys, and, well, yeah, they fit the criteria for being the shadow branch of the government to commit atrocities. But there's potential in good GIW.

Imagine it.

Imagine Amity Park being off-limits not because GIW wants to keep it contained but because they treat it like a resort or a national park. People are not allowed to freely come there only because GIW wants JL out of it since the heroes are going to treat the whole thing as a threat. But there's an infinite amount of knowledge there! A portal to the new world! New culture! Things you could never learn before!

Imagine Amity being under government's protection. Imagine Jazz attending a university with her full tuition paid by the GIW since she is, well, a liminal, a minority, and she is getting a degree that will help her establish connections between them and Infinite Realms.

Imagine GIW funding Fentons' research not in order to eradicate ghosts but to have a safe way to talk to them while not getting caught up in a fight with an impossibly strong being.

Imagine GIW being hella annoying to Danny because they just won't stop with their interviews and questionnaires. Which, actually, has the full potential to become confusing because imagine Batman meeting Phantom and Phantom is like, "Oh, yeah, there's a hidden government branch that I avoid like plague because they want to catch me" and Bats are super worried. In the meantime, GIW is looking for Danny simply because he is the most friendly ghost they encountered and they want their answers about the cultural differences between the dead and the living.

Now, there's also a way for this to become the thickest plot armor ever. Imagine Jazz is on a mission to get some artifact from the mortal world. Then imagine GIW helping her while they still can't exactly show they are government agents because who in their right mind would believe the government is studying ghosts? Anyway, Jazz now has the potential to become James Bond kind of cool. Wonderful.

Imagine Danny having trouble with the JL/Bats/police, and then he just, "Wait, let me call someone, I have the right to one phone call, right?" And not 15 minutes later, a bunch of secret government agents in white show up, and Danny is free to go while the agents are saying whatever happened is now classified in the best Batman manner.

Oh, what about a world-ending event where a ghost is involved, and the JL is at a loss of what to do. And then the white vans show up, packed with unknown tech, agents in white with blasters, and a few weird meta-kids no one knows anything about. They even have a K9 unit because, come on, Cujo could be a perfect friend for them.

Just GIW being the secret protection squad for Amity and ghosts.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao

——

Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).

The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.

Danny took out his phone.

“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”

Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”

“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”

“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.

“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”

“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”

“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”

“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”

“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.

“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”

“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”

Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.

Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.

Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.

“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.

If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.

——

Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.

“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.

Batman grunted a yes.

“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”

Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.

"Is this..."

"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."

Batman stared at the picture.

"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"

"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."

Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.

"I heard you had something about Luthor?"

Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."

Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.

"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.

"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.

"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"

Batman grunted.

"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."

Batman swiveled his head over. "What."

Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."

Batman stilled.

"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."

Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."

"And why not?"

Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"

"... Point."

[ozzgin]

okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere

nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.

nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?

nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names

nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.

nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!

mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…

mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…

mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.

nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.

people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.

tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other

have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3

-Ash

A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭

Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader

They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?

Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.

The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.

Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"

He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.

How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".

The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.

And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.

You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.

The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.

You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.

[tacticaldiary]

Can you write something about Simon being a little to rough with reader and they end up having bad bruises so they hide it from Simon and when he finds out he goes a little crazy and won’t touch them until reader snaps and tells him they need his touch

Painless Bruises

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

It really wasn't a massive deal, but she knows Simon would withdraw if he saw the evidence he left behind on her.

Masterlist

It's almost as if the day had a personal grudge against her, bringing along the hottest day of the year the one time she has to wear something unsuitable for the weather.

She itches the skin of her neck that's not covered by her black turtleneck, the long sleeves of the shirt sticking uncomfortably to her skin as she runs laps around the training centre.

Bruises.

Hand shaped bruises circle her forearms, a deep set shade of purple, and a particularly nasty one lines her collarbone, just under the juncture of the slope of her shoulder.

Thankfully she can blame the heat that creeps up her face at the thought of how she got them on the intense cardio they were doing. They were set to be dropped off in Serbia for a mission in 6 days, so the 141 was busy preparing for clearing their physical evaluations before they were dispatched.

Skin against lips, and the rustling of sheets last night. Simon had just gotten back from a solo mission somewhere up north and they hadn't seen each other in over a fortnight. Needless to say, when they did get a moment alone in his room last night things had gotten a little more intense than usual.

Rough, calloused hands held her arms in place, heavy breaths and feelings that could not be put into words exchanged under the light of the moon. She hadn't minded his grip, it had just surprised her. Simon was not a gentle person by any means, rough around the edges and as standoffish as the definition could get, but he had never been harsh enough with her for the evidence to linger into the daylight.

When she'd woken up the next day, catching sight of her arms, guilt pooled in her gut. She didn't mind it, it's not like they hurt particularly bad, but she knew if Simon saw them he'd withdraw.

It was an instinctual feeling, but she knows she's right. Simon had...a difficult past, one he rarely shared with her but she'd heard enough to know that he'd never want to hurt the people he loved.

She was afraid that bruises inflicted by him, especially ones as ugly as these, would make him blank and pull away, or even worse: treat her like she's fragile.

She didn't want a gentle Simon, she wanted him in all his brash, rough glory.

"Come on Gaz, the lass is running circles around you!" Soap heckles as she passes him by. She can't help but stifle a snort when she hears Gaz yell back an insult, a good few paces behind her. Ghost was standing next to Soap, watching the pair finish their last lap. His eyes follow her, bore into her as she passes. Him staring quietly is nothing new, but she can feel the questions from his gaze from halfway across the room.

She'd slipped out of his room before he'd woken up, and had forgone meeting him in the mess hall for breakfast to figure out how exactly she was going to hide the marks from him.

Slowing down after her last lap, she plops down on the ground with a sigh, gulps down the water bottle Soap pushes in her hands, the cool water a nice reprieve from the sweltering heat and sweat. Going to tug her turtleneck away to let some air hit her throat, her fingers freeze on the fabric when she feels Ghost's gaze on her again. Slowly lowering her hand, she clears her throat and turns her attention to Soap and Gaz bickering.

"You've got a big mouth for someone who can't outrun me either, MacTavish." She snickers, making Gaz grin.

"We're both in second place, mate." The man laughs, clapping Soap on the shoulder before offering a hand to pull her up. She accepts gratefully, feeling her legs burn pleasantly from the exercise.

She doesn't anticipate Gaz grabbing her forearm to pull her up. He grips right over her bruises and tugs her to her feet. It's just her luck that she can't manage to swallow down the strangled, muffled sound of pain in the back of her throat.

"You alright there?" Gaz lets go of her, brows furrowing. Ghost seems to have moved closer, ever the silent person.

"Fine." She swallow, her arm stinging. "Just...got a stitch in my side." Waving off the grimace Soap gives her, she's about to move on, ask if any of them would want to hit the bar with her after this, when a gruff, low voice speaks up.

"Roll them up."

She blinks, her stomach twisting as she turns to look at her Lieutenant.

"I'm fine, Ghost-"

"I didn't ask." He cuts her off. "If you're injured, better to get it fixed than ignore it."

"Good thing I'm not injured then." She offers him a smile. The other two boys glance at each other.

"Sergeant." There's a sense of finality in his tone, from which she knows it's an order. Meeting his eyes, she silently pleads with him to change his mind, a staring contest with a brick wall. Resigning herself to her fate, she relents, taking a deep breath and gingerly rolling up her sleeves to her elbows.

The sharp hitch of Simon's breath is only apparent to her after months of leaning the tiny quirks of his body.

"Steamin' Jesus, how'd you mangle that up so bad?" Soap exclaims, grabbing her hand and turning it this way and that. Gaz whistled low, eyes narrowing.

"That's some nasty bruising " Gaz frowns. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine." She snatches back her arm, shoving her sleeves back down. "Not as bad as it looks, trust me." Avoiding Simon's gaze is harder than it's ever been, but she chances a split second peek at his expression.

His eyes are the only part of his face visible, but they've always been the most expressive part of him if one knows his quirks. Right now? Right now Simon has the same look he sported when that building came down on Soap after one of his explosions malfunctioned from being rigged incorrectly.

Upset and muted horror. She can tell his brows are knitted tight under his mask, his jaw clenched because he knows.

"Medbay, now." Is all Ghost says, a hand on her shoulder leading her away from the group. Her protests fall on deaf ears as they exit the room, the others not questioning their Lieutenant.

The walk down the hallway is suffocating, and Simon's grip immediately retracts once they're outside. He takes a left down the hall and she hesitantly follows.

The medbay is to the right.

The barracks are secluded this time of the day, everyone out and about, so it's the perfect place to have this discussion. Not that she wanted to have it in the first place...

"Want to explain why you didn't tell me?" Is the first thing he says. He sounds angry, and only the most seasoned of his partners would recognise the edge of concern in his voice. "You think hiding something like that was a good idea?"

"I wasn't hiding it, I just-"

"Bullshit. I hurt you." He states, a flash of pain quicker than she can catch in his eyes. "Why didn't you say?"

"Because it's fine, Simon!" She exclaims, grabbing his arms, hoping he understands. "You didn't hurt me, we just...got a little carried away. It's alright, they don't hurt bad."

"I was too rough with you." A slightly strained voice that tugs at her heart. "Fuck, I'm sorry." The apology spilled out of his mouth unprompted, and for a moment she's left shocked because he's the last person to apologise for something unless absolutely necessary.

Which means he really believes he did something terrible.

"I forgive you." She says immediately. "There, problem solved, right?"

"No, that's not how this shit works." Simon clutches onto the back of his neck, agitated at himself. "I didn't...fuck, I didn't mean to..." Something dawns on him and he meets her eyes with a newfound sense of dread. "Where else?"

Her pause is enough to give him his answer.

"Show me." He demands.

"Simon-"

"Take it off." He tugs at the bottom of her shirt. His fingers never brush against her skin.

Taking a deep breath and seeing no way out of this, she lets her shoulder sag and concedes, shrugging off the turtleneck and leaving her in a short sleeved undershirt. His eyes snap to the bruising on her collarbone, his jaw tightening.

"Don't apologise again." She says when he opens his mouth to talk. "I'm not fucking fragile, Simon. I can take a hit or two, this is nothing."

It's the wrong thing to say, the worst thing to say judging by the way Simon instantly recoils, taking a step back at her words.

"I'd never hurt you on purpose. Never." He says quietly.

Ghost is a silent person. His footsteps never detected, melting in the shadows and slitting throats before anyone realises he's even there.

But he's not quiet. Never quiet. Never with her, at least.

"I know." She soothes, moving to close the distance but pausing when he shakes his head. "I worded that badly..."

"I wouldn't...I'm not-"

"You're nothing like your father." She states, pulling the words out to lay out for the both of them. "I trust you, Simon. I trust you every day with my life on the field, and my heart in our bedroom." She gestures to her bruises. "I don't blame you for any of this. The both of us were too occupied to pay attention to be considerate and hell, I liked it."

At his skeptical look, she continues on. "If it makes you feel better, the day you lay a hand on me is the day I beat your ass into the ground."

"I'd let you." He says gruffly, straightening up slowly.

Gently, he takes her hand, turning it over to bare her forearms. Gently brushing a thumb over the purple and blue, his eyes flicker to her face to scan for any discomfort. When he finds none, he directs his gaze back to the bruising, his mind somewhere else.

She lets him have a few moments of silence, knowing full well that this wouldn't be the end of this.

"I'm sorry." He says again, gently brushing his fingers over her collarbone. "Won't happen again, love."

                                · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

Their quick, secret touches throughout the day had always sparked her to life.

Whether that be a gentle brush of their arms while they walked down the hall, or a quick squeeze of a shoulder after a harsh day of training. Inconspicuous touches that carried more meaning to them that met the eye.

She can count on one hand how many times Simon has touched her over the past three days, even if four of her fingers were blown off.

It's frustrating. Always busy, never standing within the length to reach out and touch, always out of his room when she'd knocked and peered in at night. He'd redirect her whenever she tried to initiate anything, even a friendly hug. Once he'd legitimately stepped away from her, and she's not going to lie, but it stung a little.

Needless to say, she was itching to corner him.

As she waits outside the meeting room where he currently is with Price, she thinks about how she knew this would happen. She knew he'd withdraw and refuse to be near enough to touch her properly, and it's driving her up the wall because godammit she misses him.

He knows he's fucked the second he walks out, pinned with a glare that promises consequences if he doesn't follow her. With a quiet sigh, he trails behind her until they're in her room, the door clicking shut behind them.

"Did you need something, love?"

"Funny you should ask." She deadpans. "You drive me insane sometimes, you know that Simon Riley?"

It's a little funny how he straightens up with the use of his full name, more at attention. She'd have poked fun at him in she hadn't been as angry.

"Do you think I'm fragile, Simon?" She snaps. "That I'll break if you breathe on me? You've been practically ignoring me for three days, pulling away. Walking away." When she strides closer to him, he doesn't move back. "And I swear to all that is holy, if you don't stop with this bullshit, I'm going to well and truly snap."

A pause.

"Well, someone sounds desperate." The poor attempt at deflection makes her even angrier. She grabs his hands, guides them to her shoulders and squeezes hard. He lets her, watching quietly.

Quiet. God, she hates it when he's quiet.

"Touch me. Just...you won't hurt me, Simon." She sighs at the feeling of his hands on her, burning even through her shirt. "You know you won't, you're just afraid."

"Not afraid." He grunts, curling his fingers around her shoulder, something she considers a small win. She can feel his hands twitch with the desire to abandon his self control and pull her closer. It almost makes her smile to think the distance is impacting him just as much.

"Then what?"

"Just...wary."

"Well stop it, then." She huffs. "I need you, Simon. I can't go about my day knowing that my damn boyfriend won't touch me because he think I'm fine china."

"You're one of the best soldiers." He rolls his eyes. "You and I both know you're anything but breakable."

"Then quit acting like a selfless asshole and-" She cuts herself off with a gasp when his hands slide to her waist, pulling her into his body. Warm and all encompassing, her blood sings at the contact after so long.

"This is what you wanted?" He hums, finally conceding. She shivers, feeling his chest rumble under her cheek.

"Yes." She sighs. "See, wasn't so hard, was it?"

He doesn't answer for a moment, the both of them taking a second to settle back down into their skins, feeling the familiar press of dips and curves pressed against each other. She rests her cheek against his chest, hands coming up to grab onto his back.

"I'm alright, Simon." She whispers. "We're both okay."

His grip tightening around her like it usually does is the only answer she needs, the press of his lips onto her head through his mask making her sigh contentedly.

This.

This was more than okay.

Requests Are Open!

(03/07/2023)

[headspace-hotel]

thinking to myself "If the thought of going back to school makes me want to cry and throw up, what then?" and people keep throwing stuff at me like You could try for this specialized program or trailblaze this alternative line of study or apply for this internship or contact this organization or do this or do that or do this or get involved with XYZ Cool Thing that would recognize what you have to offer etc etc etc etc

But I have less to offer than ever. That's the thing. I'm not an outstanding student anymore, I'm just painfully limping along, and I'm less and less capable of bubbling over with passion and potential. "I heard about this opportunity, since you're so passionate about ecology and environmental science..." Am I? I feel hollow inside.

I feel like the conversation about "I need disability accomodations" has gotten warped into "Now let's try this alternative route of completing your degree since you're soooooooo passionate and successful and accomplished as a student and you might be a Great Person To Have and your way of thinking is soooooo unique and important for an institution to have and we've been wanting to start this new program anyway—"

But what if I wasn't? What if I was just a regular ass autistic student that didn't have Passion and Potential and a Unique Way Of Thinking, just an autistic person that wanted a degree?

So now I have this meeting with some lady about alternative course work but it wouldn't even be possible until next semester and so far I don't even know if anything being proposed would HELP me instead of being something I have to do ON TOP OF everything ELSE.

I hate how every conversation I have about this gets co-opted into "So you see, you have a unique and independent learning style that isn't getting support in the traditional classroom, so you can contact XYZ people and show them What You Have To Offer" like yes I have a unique ~learning style~ but also I AM DISABLED and yes I go ~above and beyond~ other people in my passion and curiosity but more advanced opportunities to learn is NOT A FUCKING ACCOMMODATION. More specialized classes would make me happier IF MY FUCKING BASIC NEEDS WERE BEING MET.

But I feel like I constantly have to reframe my disabilities in terms of like, ways i'm ~too advanced~ or ~too unique~ for the college environment i'm in and YES i am advanced and YES i am unique and yes I am smart and intrinsically motivated to learn but I also have a disability. and I shouldn't need to have anything unique or special to offer for there to be accommodations available.

The more college crushes me, the less I even have potential, the less I can prove that I had potential in the first place. What kind of work do I want to be doing someday? I don't have the heart to even think of future possibilities in my head. I am not drawn to anything, even things I am passionate about, because I can't imagine being passionate enough about something that feeling this exhausted all the time is worth it. I don't want to study ecology as badly as I want to stop hurting. I want to lock myself in a dark quiet room and never do anything ever again

[ms-demeanor]

This is regarding your post involving making friends. I have had a spectacular amount of failures in meetup groups, particularly involving men from multiple meetup groups trying to take advantage of me or using me. In addition to that, the other members of the groups tend are often quite rude. Also, many meetups in my area tend to fall into one of the following categories: professional seminar, mommy & me, or the other members are double my age or older. What would you advise?

Volunteering - find something you care about and see if there is a local volunteer opportunity; you might want to look into food banks or mutual aid projects.

Crafting - this will likely be an older crew, but making friends with older people is cool honestly.

Sports - see if there's a kickball league or some other variety of low-key sport that you can sign up for.

Get super into the local music scene. Go to bar shows, go to basement shows, go to backyard shows. If you go to places where they have local music and hang out a bunch you will get to know local music people eventually, which includes both people in bands and people interested in bands.

Become a regular at your local library. Go once a week at the same time of day and you'll start to get to know people.

Become a regular at something else local. If you go to the same coffee shop three times a week for a few months and are polite to the employees you will probably eventually have friends among the people there; even if you do this by walking around the neighborhood park at the same time of day you will start getting to know the park regulars people love habits and if you can become a chill part of their daily scenery they will eventually want to investigate further.

Start your own club of some kind. Maybe start a book club for a particular genre of book that you like, or start a movie group where you meet up to see a movie together twice a month. You can post things like this on meetup websites or facebook, but you can also make fliers to put up in places that you think people you might find interesting would hang out.

Join a gym and go regularly. Sometimes a random person you see all the time in a gym can go from being a reliable on-the-spot spotter to a good friend.

Take a class locally. See if your town has a community center that offers cooking classes or computer classes or any kind of classes even things you already know. I keep making jokes about improv but improv people are great; see if you can take an impov class. See if your local music store offers music classes (I made weirdly good friends with the folks at the music store where I took vocal lessons; this was a pleasant surprise!)

When you try any of these places make friendly smalltalk with the people you encounter and express interest in them. If you are speaking to employees, make sure you're giving them lots of conversational outs because attempting to befriend people who are working can feel like you're cornering them, I'd actually say don't try to befriend the employees at a business unless you go there and they attempt to befriend you, however as someone who worked in coffee shops for ten years if someone randomly started showing up for six hours a week I would almost certainly have gotten to a friendly shoot-the-shit level with them within a month; if you go out among people who are sociable and are around them enough sometimes the sociable people go "aha! new friend sighted!" and do the hard work for you, but you do have to go to places to let yourself be found by the sociable ones.)

I do not, generally speaking, use meetup groups as a generic thing as much as I look into what groups exist locally that I am interested in. If a local game store is running a weekly Magic tournament, that's a better place to meet people in my opinion than a one-time bowling event.

[zebuie]

SACCHARINE

[𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒]; dealer!ellie x fem!reader

ㅤ→ READ THIS. ⨳ DAILY CLICK

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒:; your friend insists you join her in a party, and you go along not expecting much but little do u know….

[𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒]; thank u SMM for 100 <3, not proofread, 3k words woops, reader is sick 🤧 (I relate.), swearing, pet names, degrading, strap sucking (e receiving), strap sex (r receiving), eating out (e & r receiving), fingering (e receiving), cum eating (e & r receiving), Ellie calls the strap her dick/cock, aftercare.

Dina was standing over you as you lay in bed, covered in used tissues. "Come onnnnn—You need to go to the party tonight. It's going to be so much fun, and you love parties! Plus, it's been days since you've gotten out of bed, and like I'm kinda worried about you y'know."

you looked at her, nose running and eyes watery. "But I'm so sick," u groaned.

Dina persisted, "Pleeeaaase? It's going to be a blast, nd you never know what could happen. You might even meet someone new or just have a great time! n' don't worry, I'll make sure you have the best time ever. Just say yes."

You sighed and thought for a moment. Despite your illness, you secretly wanted to go to the party. "Fine fuck, okay. I'll go," you mumbled weakly.

Dina's face lit up with excitement. "Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you! " she squealed happily. "I know you won't regret it. Let's get you all dolled up now cmon,"

You groaned inwardly, knowing that getting ready would be a challenge in your current condition. However, deep down, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, this party could be the distraction you needed to lift your spirits.

Dina started gathering your clothes and makeup, while you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed and wobbled to the bathroom to get ready. Despite feeling like death, you made an effort to look somewhat presentable.

As you stood in front of the mirror, applying makeup half-heartedly, Dina came in with your  party attire - a shimmering dress and sleek heels. And She helped you put them on.

Once you were finally ready to go, Dina practically dragged you out the door. The party was just a short walk away, and the sound of music and chatter grew louder with each step. The night air felt cool against your flushed skin, making you shiver slightly.

As you stepped inside the party venue, the vibrant energy hit you like a wave. Colorful lights flickered and danced, and people milled about, chatting and laughing. The music pulsed through the air, the bass making your heart thrum in your chest.

Dina suddenly leaned over to you and whispered, "hey, I'm gonna go get some weed, wanna come with?" You shrugged and nodded, secretly relieved for a chance to get away from the overwhelming party energy. 

As you both made your way to her dealer—Ellie, Dina introduced you. "Ellie heyyy, this is my friend-" and before she could even finish her sentence: "No no I know who she is." She responded quickly. "Hi." You said awkwardly. Ellie smiled at you and then turned back to Dina. "Soooo what's up.." Ellie asked Dina.

 "We need some weed. Hook us up, please?" Ellie gave you a friendly smile and when you smiled back at her she choked on her spit."uh yeah yeah sure—Let's get you sorted." She said avoiding eye contact with you.

Dina and you followed her to a secluded corner near a makeshift bar, where Ellie discreetly pulled out a small bag of weed from her pocket. "Here you go," she said, handing it to Dina with a casual wave. You noticed her stealing glances at you as she spoke, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of attraction.

As Dina paid for the weed and left to get some drinks, you mustered up the courage to strike a conversation with Ellie. "So, you're the infamous weed dealer around here, hm?" you said playfully. Ellie chuckled and looked at you, a hint of shyness in her eyes.

"Guilty as charged." She replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Dina returned with the drinks and the three of you find solace on a cozy patio behind the bustling party. Ellie takes out a joint and lights it up with expert ease. The smoke swirls around you, filling the air with a musky yet sweet fragrance. As if by unspoken agreement, Ellie offers the joint to you first. You accept it gracefully, taking in the rich scent before taking a small drag and passing it to Dina.

As you pass around the joint, each of you taking turns to inhale and exhale, the tension between you and Ellie seems to ease. The weed adds a hazy yet enjoyable layer to the conversation, making even the simplest topics feel profound.

Ellie takes a hit and turns to you in between coughs, a cheeky grin playing on her lips. "So, what brings you to a party when you're sick, anyway?"

You chuckle, the weed making the memory of your illness feel distant and forgettable. "Dina dragged me here, actually. Said I should get out of my self-imposed exile." You glance at Dina, who nods enthusiastically, a grin plastered on her face.

Ellie takes another puff, her eyes gleaming with laughter. "Well, I for one am glad she did. I mean, look at us enjoying ourselves, weed and all."

The conversation flows effortlessly as you and Ellie exchange stories, each topic leading to another in a chain of stoner introspection.

As the joint makes its way round again, you and Ellie start to lose track of time. The weed has its full effects on you now, turning everything into a fuzzy, comfortable haze. Laughing and sharing stories, the conversation flows like a never-ending river. You notice Dina nodding off beside you, her eyes heavy with intoxication.

Suddenly, Ellie's fingers brushed against yours, sending tingles through your whole body. You look at her and share a smile. Maybe this party wasn't such a bad idea afterall.

"Hey, you alright?" Ellie asks as she notices your glazed eyes and slow speech. "You look absolutely baked."

You manage a lazy smile and a nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just feeling really damn relaxed. This weed is strong."

Ellie chuckles. "Well, it's not called weed because it makes you feel uptight."

You giggle, feeling a sudden wave of affection for her. It's as if the weed has lowered all your inhibitions, leaving only the raw, genuine emotions.

Dina stands up and stumbles a little, the mix of drinks and weed making her dizzy. "I think I'm gonna head home," she says, her words slightly slurred. "This weed has me feeling a bit too high."

You nod, understanding. "Be careful on your way home, alright?"

Dina waves a weak goodbye as she leaves to get an Uber. Now it's just you and Ellie, alone in the hazy aftermath of the joint.

You watch as Dina disappears into the night, then turn your attention back to Ellie. As if reading your mind, she suggests, "Wanna head back inside?"

You agree, and the two of you make your way back inside the party. The music is loud and throbbing, and the lights have turned into a dizzying, colorful display. You find a cozy couch and settle down, the weed still clinging to your senses.

You lean back into the cushions, enjoying the soft feel of the fabric against your skin. The buzz of the party fades into the background as you focus your attention on Ellie next to you. The world seems to slow down, and for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you there, trapped in a private bubble.

"So," Ellie says, breaking the silence, "how long did it take Dina to convince you to actually come out tonight?"

You laugh softly, the memory floating to the forefront of your mind. "Oh, she started pleading about a week ago. She's been on my case for days, saying I've been living like a hermit."

Ellie grins, chuckling softly. "Yeah, sounds like Dina. She really doesn't want you to become a recluse." She pauses, seeming to choose her words carefully. "You know, I'm glad she did manage to drag you out tonight. Otherwise, I might not have gotten the chance to meet you."

For a brief moment, silence blankets the air between you. The world outside of the couch fades into insignificance. All you can focus on is Ellie, her eyes locked with yours. 

You can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

And then, without a word, you lean in, your lips meeting hers in a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

You pull away from Ellie, your heart racing as you gaze into her oh so beautiful eyes. 

A soft smile lingers on her lips as she breaks the silence. "We should probably head somewhere more private." She gestures towards a dimly lit corridor that leads to various rooms beyond the party hubbub.

Without a second thought, you nod enthusiastically, taking her hand and leading her towards the door closest to them. Inside, shadows envelope every corner with only moonlight seeping through the barely-there curtains casting eerie patterns on the walls. The cool air in here contrasts nicely with the warmth of Ellie's body pressed against yours; making everything feel intensely personal and intimate. 

Her scent fills your senses while you deepen their kisses; tangled hands carding softly through each other's hair. 

As you continue to kiss passionately, your hands start to wander; undoing each other's buttons and zips with eager fingers. Soon enough, clothes are discarded in a messy pile on the floor as you stand there—your bodies exposed and vulnerable before one another. 

Your eyes never leave each other's as Ellie reaches behind her back, unfastening the clasp of her belt. A soft chuckle escapes her lips when she sees the surprise etched across your face at what she reveals next: a strap on harness tucked under her pants all along.

Ellie grins, stepping closer and running her fingertips along the curves of your hips. "Wanted to catch you off guard." She teases gently. 

With a sudden movement, she slips out of her harness; revealing a thick dildo nestled between her legs. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she beckons you forward with an inviting finger. 

Ellie runs her fingers through your hair, pressing down on your head just enough to guide you closer until your lips brush against the silky surface of her dick. "Get down," she murmurs huskily, her breath hot against your cheek. You obey without hesitation, leaning forward eagerly; closing your eyes as you take the dildo into your mouth. She moans softly at the sight and feeling of it; running her hands through your hair while slowly rocking her hips—pushing herself deeper into your waiting throat.

Your tongue swirls around the head of her dildo, teasing and flicking it with a tantalizing rhythm. Ellie's moans grow louder, becoming more urgent as you take pleasure in exploring every inch of her toy; making it glisten with your saliva. 

She begins to move faster, thrusting harder against your mouth—her hands tightening their grip on your hair. You can feel the tension building within her, each deep push bringing them closer to release.

As Ellie begins to move in time with your movements, the strap of her harness rubs against her sensitive clit with each thrust. 

The sensation sends a wave of pleasure coursing through her body; pushing her closer and closer towards climax. 

Her breath hitches in your ear as she whispers, "Suck harder." You comply without hesitation, increasing the suction and using your tongue to tease every inch of the silky shaft before you. 

Your actions have an immediate effect on Ellie; moans growing louder and more urgent as she nears release. With one final surge forward, she shudders violently—her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave while you continue to suck eagerly; savoring every drop of her sweet essence that seeps from between your lips.

Once Ellie's climax subsides, she gently pulls you away from her cock; guiding you to your feet. Her eyes glow with desire as she moves towards the headboard of the bed, sitting down and positioning herself for what comes next. "Get on top," she commands in a sultry voice that sets your pulse racing. You obey eagerly, straddling her lap; feeling the cool air against your wet folds before slowly lowering yourself onto her waiting dick. The sensation is intense but pleasurable—your body adjusting to accommodate its thickness and length within you.

Ellie's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you adjust to the size of her strap-on. Her voice is low and rough with desire when she speaks, "you love this u dirty slut..being filled by my dick hm? don't you?" She pumps gently into you—each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moan softly in response; lost in a haze of lustful submission. "Say it," she commands again, her tone more insistent now. 

"Tell me how much you want this cock."You gasp for breath as words tumble from your lips, fueled by the intense sensations coursing through every inch of your body. 

"I need this... I want your dick so-so bad.." Your voice is barely above a whisper; full of longing and degradation that only heightens their passion even further.

Ellie growls deep in her throat; loving the sound of your surrender. 

She begins to pick up speed, pounding into you harder with every thrust. Her hand snakes between your legs—playing with your clit while she ravages you.  "such a whore," she breathes out, her eyes locked on yours as he drives deeper into you.

 "A dirty cum-slut who needs my cock hm isn't that right?.. " The taboo words fuel the fire within both of you; making it impossible to hold back any longer.

Your body shudders as pleasure rushes through you; waves of bliss crashing over you like a tsunami. Ellie feels your muscles clamping down tightly around her dick, knowing that it's only a matter of seconds before she pushes you over the edge. She groans loudly—her own release close at hand as she continues to pound into your wet core.

"Cum for me," Ellie demands, her voice thick with desire. "Let me see you come on my cock." The words are like a match to gasoline—your body exploding in ecstasy as you shatter into pieces; waves of pleasure washing over you in an unstoppable tide. 

You scream out her name, your muscles clenching tightly around her strap-on as she pushes you further and further towards the brink of blissful oblivion.In the aftermath of your orgasm, Ellie slowly pulls out of you; leaving a trail of slickness behind as she stands up from the bed. 

She reaches down to help steady yourself before drawing you close into a tender embrace.

As you catch your breath in Ellie's arms, she gently pushes you away; guiding you down between her thighs. You eagerly bury your face against her wet folds, savoring the sweet taste of her arousal as you settle in for what comes next. 

Your fingers slip inside her while your tongue begins to dance around her clit—your actions making Ellie moan loudly and clutch at the sheets. "More," she whispers hoarsely—her body begging for relief from the intense sensations that are building deep within.

You lose yourself in the sensation of Ellie's heat and sweetness around your fingers, her flavors intensifying with each passing moment. Her breath hitches as she edges closer to release—your tongue tracing circles around her swollen clit while you pump your fingers inside her. It's not long before she lets out a loud moan, her body shaking with pleasure as she comes undone on your face.

You lose yourself in Ellie's warmth and flavor as you feast on her sweet pussy. One hand gripping her ass for better leverage, the other buried deep inside her wet folds. Her body trembles beneath you, nearing a climax that's been simmering just beneath the surface. She whimpers loudly, her legs wrapping around your head; holding you tight against her core.

You keep going at it, licking and fingering her like a woman possessed. Her moans get louder, and she's grinding against your face pretty hard now. You can feel her getting close, and you don't want to stop until she screams your name in pleasure. Your fingers move faster inside her while your tongue does its dance on her clit; making sure she feels every inch of attention you're giving her sweet pussy.

It doesn't take much longer now. Ellie's breathing turns erratic, and her body stiffens as waves of pleasure crash over her. You feel her pussy clamping down around your fingers, and she screams your name; flooding your mouth with her cum while you lap it up hungrily.

As Ellie comes down from her orgasm, she pulls you away gently; your mouth filled with her essence. She kisses you deeply—her fingers entwined with yours as she tastes herself on your lips. "God, that was amazing," she murmurs against your skin before running a tender caress down your cheek.

Ellie slowly sinks down between your thighs—her fingers running lightly along your swollen lips before dipping inside to clean you up. You shiver at her touch; lost in the pleasure of her soft tongue tracing every curve, gathering remnants of your cum and spreading them around for her to suck on. It doesn't take long before you're completely clean and she pulls away from you, a satisfied smile gracing her lips.

You cling to the sheets as she continues her tender torment, moaning loudly with each flick of her tongue against your sensitive bud. Her fingers intertwine with yours; pulling you closer until it's impossible to hold back any longer.

Ellie finally draws back; her lips swollen and wet from your taste. She kisses you softly, one hand trailing up to stroke your hair lovingly before she reaches over for a damp cloth. She gently cleans the remaining traces of cum from between your legs—her touch tender yet thorough.

Once you're clean, she presses a kiss to your inner thigh—her hands running soothingly over your body as she gazes up at you adoringly. "So beautiful," she murmurs softly before pulling you close for another embrace. Her soft lips brush against yours in a gentle caress that leaves you breathless; savoring the sweetness of her smile as happiness fills the air around you.

im so bad at endings ahahsjsj buttttt i hope u guys enjoy thissss 😁😁😆😆

[hayleythesugarbowl]

you should do a spencer agnew x reader but reader is the new smosh games PA and she has a slow burn / flirty relationship with spencer :)))

Cool Shoes || Spencer Agnew x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist • part 2  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you join smosh as the newest addition to the games crew, you are immediately attracted to spencer. but will your little crush turn into something more?

word count: 3.7k

warnings: mild language

a/n: thank you so much for this request ml!! i love writing for spencer sm and honestly i kinda fell in love w him a little bit while writing this so ty 🤭 this isn’t superrr slow burny (i got to excited and eager lol oops) but there’s plenty of flirting and i hope you enjoy this!! 🎀

edit!! i have a part two now, so if you enjoy this fic go check that out 💋

<— some more spencer fics • next part —>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “And this concludes your official tour of Smosh,” Shayne said, throwing his arms wide. “Any questions?”

     “Yes,” you answered, “Is that my ring?”

     “(Y/n),” Shayne whined as he slipped the ring that was definitely yours into his pocket quickly, “That’s what you got out of my tour?”

     “You’re right, I’m sorry Oh Wise Guide,” you teased, “You know I wouldn’t be here without you. Or if I was, I’d be really lost.”

     You had just officially begun your job at Smosh that morning. Shayne had immediately started showing you around and you really were grateful.

     You’d known Shayne for years and he was the one that suggested you try and get a job with Smosh when you’d moved to LA a few months ago. 

     You’d gotten a job as the Smosh Games PA and you couldn’t wait to get started. You already knew a lot of the people who worked there—either because you’d met them through Shayne outside of Smosh or from the multiple times you’d visited the studio before you’d applied for the job.

     Plus, this was the first job you’d had where you actually felt like you’d be doing something you enjoyed. 

     “Who’s lost?” You heard a voice from behind you and you spun around quickly.

     “Oh, (Y/n), this is Spencer, the director of our games channel,” Shayne introduced you to the man who had spoke. “Spencer, this is (Y/n), the new games PA.”

     You knew you should’ve said something to him along the lines of ‘hi, nice to meet you. i’m (y/n). i look forward to working with you’ but all that came out was “Cool shoes.”

    You didn't know why that was what your mind had landed on—he was wearing basic gray sneakers—but you were so caught off guard by how attractive he was that you’d kinda choked.

     Because damn. He had the most gorgeous eyes you’d ever seen on a person before. 

     Spencer smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Either you’re just trying to kiss ass already or you’ve got really bad taste in shoes because these babies are mid at best.”

     You smiled, looking down at your own shoes. “Definitely the second option—these are someone’s grandma’s shoes. Seriously, I scavenged them from my Nanna’s closet.”

     This got you a laugh from Spencer and you continued, “Unless I should be kissing ass?”

     “Nah,” Spencer waved the thought away, “most of your job’s just gonna consist of bringing me Mountain Dew. So unless you can screw that up…”

     “He’s not serious, is he?” You turned around to ask Shayne. “Because you said this wasn’t gonna be like my last job.”

     “You slung Mountain Dew at your last job?” Spencer asked. 

     You shook your head. “Just had a lousy boss who took the assistant part of my job a little too far. But I appreciate your concern for my employment history,” you teased. 

     You were surprised at how easy it was to talk to Spencer. Usually you wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to joke around with someone you just met—let alone your new boss. Your new boss who you had almost undressed with your eyes upon first sight. 

     “Settle down, I was just gonna ask if you had any cans left over,” Spencer winked.

     “Spencer’s kind of addicted to Mountain Dew Kickstart,” Shayne piped in. “And by kind of—”

     “He means I’ve already had four today,” Spencer finished.

     You made a face, “It’s 9:00am.”

     “Ooh,” Spencer winced dramatically, “Sorry, but I don’t think our values align. Go ahead and bring in the next one, Shayne.  (Y/n), it was nice meeting you—good luck with the shoes thing.”

     Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “You already have another person lined up for my job?”

     Spencer leaned towards you and you felt your pulse pick up ever-so-slightly. “Shayne doesn’t know it yet, but it’s actually just him,” he whispered loudly.

     “Well then I may have to quit, just to see how this goes,” you said, turning to Shayne who crossed his arms.

     “Not when I was just starting to like you,” Spencer pouted and you felt your cheeks warm.

     “I was just starting to think you’re not so bad yourself,” you shot back.

     “Woah, I just meant ‘cause you have a secret stash of Mountain Dew.”

     “And I meant because you have cool shoes,” you teased.

     “Well, now that we’ve got that settled,” Spencer smiled, “I expect to see you here by 5:00am sharp tomorrow morning.”

     “Seriously?” Your job description hadn’t said anything about getting to work when it was still dark out!

     Spencer shrugged. “I guess I can give you a few more hours. Y’know, so you can shop for some decent footwear beforehand. See ya later, grandma shoes.”

      He began to walk backwards and you said a quick ‘it was nice to meet you’ before he turned around and walked back the way he came.

     You couldn’t stop the smile that was forming on your face. You could already tell this was going to turn out to be a great job. You couldn’t wait to get to work tomorrow. And you couldn’t pretend part of that wasn’t because you wanted to see Spencer again.   

     And not just because that’s what your eyes wanted. You had enjoyed talking with him. You felt like you’d really hit it off. You felt like you two could really become good friends and coworkers. 

     You turned to Shayne, aware that you were probably still smiling like an idiot. 

     “What?” He fixed you with a quizzical look.

     “Nothing, I’m just excited to start working here,” you said.

     Shayne raised an eyebrow.

     “And,” You added, reluctantly, and only because you knew Shayne would find out  eventually, “you didn’t tell me my boss was hot.”

     Now Shayne raised both eyebrows, “Spencer?”

     “What?”

     “Nothing,” he said, “I mean, he’s single, so go for it if you want. He seemed like he really liked you and—”

     “No,” you cut him off, “Definitely not. He’s my boss. I don’t want to ‘go for’ anything other than a good, friendly, professional relationship.”

     “Okay,” Shayne nodded. 

      You nodded back and he was silent for a moment before smiling, 

     “‘Course that’s what I said about Courtney…”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

You took a sip of your coffee from the mug you were holding as you made your way down the hall and towards your office.

     You’d been working at Smosh for approximately seventeen days and you had finally stopped getting lost throughout the building on a daily basis.

     Once Spencer had showed you the ropes and made sure you knew what you were doing, you had joined right in to the well oiled machine that was Smosh.

     Unfortunately, your sense of directions wasn’t as good as your work ethic and so it had taken extra time for you to remember where everything was. Much to Shayne’s amusement.

     You were deep in thought as you rounded the corner and you didn’t see the person right in front of you.

     You ran straight into Spencer and as you collided with him, your coffee drink spilled all down your front as you were knocked to the floor. You quickly picked yourself up off the ground. 

     “I am so sorry,” you rushed, “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

     “It’s all good,” Spencer said, standing up, “I am officially awake now, so I guess I owe you one.”

     You laughed with him but you felt your face getting hot in embarrassment. You looked down at your blouse and found it more brown than it was purple from the coffee. You tried in vain to wipe it off.

     “Damn, I hope that wasn’t a family heirloom too,” Spencer pointed to your shirt, “Here, take my hoodie.”

     He started to pull the sweatshirt over his head as you protested, “No, it’s ok—I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad—it’s kind of a look.”

     “Really, I insist,” Spencer said, handing you his hoodie. “Gives me a chance to show off my anime t-shirt anyway.”

     You took the sweatshirt from him, mumbling your thanks and pulling it over your head.

      Spencer’s scent engulfed you as you put on his warm hoodie and you tried not to get distracted by the way his cologne made you a little bit dizzy. 

      Over the last several days, as you’d been adjusting to your new job, you’d almost forgotten your tiny crush on Spencer. 

     Almost. 

     You’d been so focused on work that you hadn’t really had time to stop and think about your feelings towards your boss. 

     You really enjoyed working with him and he was quickly becoming your favorite person at Smosh—other than Shayne, of course. You sent a silent apology to him in your head.

      And then there were the moments when Spencer would laugh at one of your jokes or compliment you on a task you did or smile shyly at you up through his lashes and you felt all warm inside.

     Like right now—him giving you his hoodie. That brought you out of your reverie as you remembered where you were. Standing in front of the man you were currently lost in thought about.

     “Right, well, I better get back to—” You gestured in front of you, trailing off as you had honestly forgot what exactly you were headed to your office for. 

     “Of course, I wouldn’t want to keep you from—” He gestured in the direction you had, as if the nothing that you had indicated was what needed your attention. 

     You rolled your eyes at him amicably before heading in the direction you had been going. 

     After a quick stop in your office—you hadn’t found what you apparently had been looking for in there. And if while you were in the office by yourself you pulled up the collar of the sweater to your nose for a second or seven, who was there to see you?—you set off for the break room. 

     You saw Shayne sitting at a table with some other cast and crew members and you walked over towards him, plopping down across from him and Erin, an associate producer for Smosh.

     You had gotten to know her a bit throughout these past couple weeks and already felt like you had been friends for months.

     “Hey you,” Shayne greeted, “What’s up?”

     You shrugged. “Oh, you know, same old same old. What’s new with you?”

     “Well, we filmed a TNTL this morning, and I had this new idea for a character. So basically—”

     “(Y/n), is that Spencer’s sweatshirt?” Erin interrupted, her eyes fixed on your top. 

     “Oh, um, yeah,” you told her.

    At the same time Shayne asked, “How do you even know what Spencer wore to work today?” 

     “I’m a woman, we know these things,” Erin paused. “Come on, he wears that thing four times a week, like it’s hard.”

     She turned her gaze back to you. 

     You cleared your throat. “But, yeah, anyways, I spilled coffee on my blouse so he gave me this.”

     Erin raised an eyebrow, “Did he now?”

     “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked her, trying your hardest not to blush. 

     “No reason,” she leaned back, acting casual, “It’s just Dude 101, a guy doesn’t give a girl his hoodie unless he likes her.”

     You scoffed, “That’s crazy, Erin. He was just being nice.”

     This you felt sure about. Whatever your feelings were towards Spencer, you were sure he only though of you as his coworker. 

     Right?

     “Well, it’s obvious you like him,” Erin added, as if that was an absolute fact.

     “What?” You spit out, probably faster and louder than was necessary or convincing.   

     You glanced at Shayne and he raised his arms as if to say, Don’t look at me, my lips have been sealed!

     “I’ve seen the way you act around him, (Y/n). And the way he acts around you.” 

     Was it that obvious that you had a little, tiny crush on Spencer? I mean, you guys got along really well. And we’re constantly making each other laugh. But that just meant you were friends, right? He definitely didn’t act any different around you than he did with anyone else at Smosh, did he? 

     Granted, you hadn’t even been working here three weeks yet and you weren’t one hundred percent sure how he acted around everyone else. But you had no reason to believe it was any different than with you!

     “You’re crazy,” you told Erin.

     “So you deny, it?” She folded her hands on the table in front of her, “You don’t have feelings for Spencer?”

     “Well,” you started. You didn’t want to lie to her, not when you were just starting a friendship. You sighed, lowering your voice so only Erin and Shayne could hear you, “I might have some feelings for—”

     “Spencer!” Shayne said loudly and awkwardly, as if to warn you of his sudden presence behind you.

     You spun around probably too quickly and found yourself looking up at him. 

     “Hi, Spencer,” you said, sincerely hoping he hadn’t overheard any of the previous conversation.

     “Hey (Y/n), long time no see,” he smiled, putting his hands in his pockets. “So, I was wondering, since we’ve got that big project coming up next Wednesday, do you think you’d be able to meet me outside of work to get a head start on it? We could go to a coffee shop or my place or something?”

     He almost looked…nervous asking you to work on a project outside of normal work hours. Probably just figuring you’d decline at sacrificing your free hours.

     You watched as Erin raised an eyebrow and you promptly ignored her. 

     “Yeah sure,” you said, “Sounds like a plan.”

     “Really?” He sounded relieved, “Ok awesome, I’ll text you some dates.”

     “Perfect,” you said, “And it’ll give me a chance to give you back this hoodie once I have other clothes to change into.”

     “Keep it,” Spencer shrugged, looking down “It looks way better on you that it ever did on me anyways.”

     You brushed your hair behind your ears. “I might take you up on that offer.”

     “‘Course you will have to give me something in return,” he said, “I mean, fair’s fair, man.”

     “Naturally,” you looked down at your body to find something suitable, your eyes landing on the scrunchie at your wrist. 

     You handed it to him and he took your offering, slipping the scrunchie into his wrist. 

     “Classy,” he nodded, holding his arm out at different angles to look at it.

     “Very,” you agreed, giggling. 

     You both fell silent and you looked back down at the table. Shayne said something to Spencer and they began a conversation—the chosen, something something—and you were silent until Spencer left the table, laughing at something Shayne had said.  

     Immediately after he exited the room, Erin pounced.

     “Okay what the hell was that?” She asked.

     “What was what?”

     Erin put on a high voice and then a low voice and back again, mimicking your conversation “Oh, hi, Spencer. Hi, (Y/n). Wanna come to my place? Oh, I’d love to. You look so sexy. No you look sexy. Wanna exchange wardrobes?” 

     “Okay, that’s not how any of that went,” you said, but you couldn’t help yourself from smiling.

     “That’s what it sounded like from over here,” Shayne added. “He invited you to his house, man. And he’s gonna text you?”

     You’d exchanged numbers right after you began your job, but you hadn’t actually had many text conversations. You didn’t really think it was a big deal.

     “Yeah, we’ve texted before,” you said, “But don’t think it means anything, so far he’s mostly just sent me memes.”

     “What kind of memes?” Shayne asked, as though this was severely important. 

     “Cat, SpongeBob, the occasional wombat.”

     “Trust me,” he said, “that means something. I’m a psychologist, so I kinda know these things.”                                

“Havingapsychologydegreeisn’tthesameasbeingapsychologist,” Erin coughed into her hand.  

     “You know what—” Shayne started, turning to Erin.

     “Guys,” you interrupted.

     “Right,” Erin agreed, “not the time. What I’m trying to say is, that was flirting Miss (Y/n), whether you like it or not.”

     Had you and Spencer been flirting? You weren’t exactly an expert on the subject, so maybe Erin was right. A part of you definitely hoped that was the case. 

     “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Amanda leaned in from the table next to yours, “But I also think there was definitely flirting going on.”

      You, Shayne, and Erin all turned to look at her.

      “Come on people, you know I like kissing scenes, why should this come as a shock?” She threw up her hands and you laughed.

       “Who’s kissing?” You hadn’t seen Courtney enter the room, but now she came and sat down next to her husband and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

       “We were just talking about how it’s just a matter of time before Spencer and (Y/n) are totally gonna ba—”

      “Erin!” You cut her off, definitely blushing now as Courtney giggled.

      “So you and Spencer, huh?” She asked, smiling. 

      “That’s what these two seem to think,” you gestured to your friends.

     “Not think,” Erin said.

     “We know,” Shayne finished.

     “Fine,” you relented a bit, “I do like him, a little. Well, okay a lot. I guess I like him a lot. He’s smart and sweet and funny and charming and so cute and has great cologne, apparently,” you gestured to the hoodie. You took a deep breath. “And I really really like him.”

     You realized as you said it, that it was true. You’d spent the past couple of weeks trying to convince yourself that you only thought of Spencer as a friend and a coworker. But you realized, the more you talked to your friends, that you really did have feelings for him. That were more than friendly or coworker-ly. 

     Maybe this was something that you really did want. And that could maybe happen. You had felt the connection between you and Spencer, so it was possible he might feel the same way about you.

     Unless you were reading this all wrong and—Oh God, what if you told him how you felt and he rejected you and then you had to work side by side with him in awkwardness forever? 

     “But so what? It’s not as if he feels the same way. I don’t want to make things weird between us,” you finished.

     “Trust me, my guy, he likes you,” Courtney contributed. “I’m married to a psychologist, I know these things.”

     “See!” Shayne crossed his arms triumphantly and Erin rolled her eyes. 

     “Stilldoesn’tcount,” she cough-spoke. 

     “And I’m taking this back!” You said, noticing the ring on Shayne’s middle finger and reaching over to grab it, once and for all. 

     “Anyways,” Courtney finished, “I say tell him how you feel, see where this goes.”

     “I concur,” Shayne said and his wife raised an eyebrow at him. “What? I’ve always wanted to say that!”

     “She’s right,” Erin said, “and by the end of the week you’ll be ban—”

     “Erin!” 

     She merely smirked as she picked up her soda drink and took a sip. 

     “So I just go up and ask Spencer out?” You messed with the drawstrings of your sweatshirt. You were encouraged by your friends’ words, and you really wanted to go up and just do it, but you felt doubt creeping in. 

     “What if I mess up what I’m trying to say?  Or fall on my face walking up to him? Or worse, what if he says no?”

     “He wouldn’t.” You heard his voice first. You looked up and found him walking slowly through the doorway as he kept speaking. “Say no, I mean. If I know him as well as I think I do—and I pride myself on knowing him pretty damn well—then he’d say yes.”        

     He was in front of you now. “Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.”

     You tried to catch your breath as you processed what was happening. “Oh yeah? What else would he say?”

     “Well, uh, he’d probably that he’s attracted to you. And that he wanted to ask you out the moment he met you and is so glad you did it first because now he doesn’t have to continue his poor, pathetic attempts at making a move,” he said, placing a hand in the back of his neck.

     You stood up, coming to stand right in front of Spencer. “When did you come back?” 

     You’d thought he’d walked away a few minutes ago after your conversation had ended. 

     “Never left,” he said, “Bent down to tie my shoe, and then I heard way too many nice things about myself to leave.”

     You giggled, shoving his shoulder. “So humble.”

     “Hey, when you hear someone professing their love for you…” Spencer shrugged. 

     “Ok, that’s not what was happening,” you crossed your arms.

     “I beg to differ,” Erin piped in.

     “Not what it sounded like from our side of the table,” added Shayne. 

     You had forgotten both of them were there. You’d been so caught up in what was happening with Spencer, you’d forgotten anyone was there, actually.

     But as you looked around, you found that everyone currently occupying the break room was stopped to watch the two of you. 

     Angela whooped from a few tables over. 

     “Well since it’s unanimous, apparently,” you joked, “What do you say? Will you go out with me.”

     “I most certainly will,” Spencer said, smiling at you.

     You reached out and took his hand, linking it with yours. He looked at you for a moment before leaning in and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

     You placed your hand where his lips had touched yours. You couldn’t believe this was happening. And you couldn’t wait to see where this went—you and Spencer, you thought. You felt giddy with excitement.

     “Well, I’ll see ya later then,” Spencer said, beginning to walk backwards. “and I already have an idea for our first official date.”

     “And what’s that?”

     “I’m gonna take you to a Payless ShoeSource.”

     “I thought you liked my grandma shoes,” you crossed your arms.

     “(Y/n), I like everything about you,” he said, “but those things have to to go.”      

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this one!! have a lovely week all my spencer girlies 🤭🩰

<— some more spencer fics • next part —>

[rogueddie]

When Steve wakes up, he is very confused. His room looks very different and unfamiliar- but he knows it's his. It still has the plaid wallpaper his mom had picked out for him (he hadn't liked it, but there was a lot of lines and pretty colors).

The toy car his babysitter, Sarah, had gotten him for his fifth birthday isn't on his dresser anymore. He knows that she'd left it there for him last night, playfully insisting that he couldn't play with it until his actual birthday.

He'd been so excited to play with it. He wants to cry, and wail. He wants to run to his parents and scream until they give it back.

But they aren't home. That's why his babysitter had been over the previous night. They have a very important business trip that they aren't allowed to miss, not even for Steve's birthday.

The pictures in the hall look different too. Sarah had put up some cool pictures for him. She'd done the same for his fourth birthday. They had to take them down at the end of the day, but it had been nice to have family pictures up. Even if it was just for a day.

Sarah isn't downstairs.

He almost does scream this time. She'd promised that she'd stay the night, sleeping on the sofa, so he could have pancakes for breakfast. It's one of the many things that he can't, or isn't allowed, to make on his own.

His cake isn't in the fridge either. He even pulls a chair over so he can climb on it, to see if she'd hidden it on one of the higher shelves.

He sits on one of the dining chairs, watching the clock, and waiting.

After two hours pass, he gives up any hope he has.

Sarah, just like his parents, is probably too busy for him. He reasons that she probably just forgot to tell him. His mom had done that one time- it had stung, but he couldn't blame her. He forgot lots of stuff, even if it is important.

The only cereal in the pantry is some plain, corn brand that he doesn't recognise. It tastes just as bad as it looks, but there isn't a lot of food anymore.

At least, not a lot that he can make.

He has a second bowl, putting a few spoons of sugar in. It's not much better, but he doesn't feel so hungry anymore.

The TV looks different too. There's weird and new things playing. It's fun, interesting, and distracts him well enough that he's able to keep himself from worrying about how long he'll have to be alone again.

The next day goes the same.

The third day, he risks cooking. It ends up a little burnt, but it's better than cereal all the time.

The fourth day, he can't eat the food he tries to cook. It smells too nasty. He has to have cereal again. The sugar helps.

The fifth day, he doesn't risk cooking. His parents have never left him alone, without a babysitter, for more than a week, so he'll have a nice meal soon.

The sixth day, he checks their voicemail. There's a few odd messages from grown up sounding people, asking about how he's feeling, but he doesn't recognise any of their voices. He doesn't know what numbers he should try calling. He hopes they try calling again.

The seventh day, he sits at the bottom of the stairs. He stares at the front door, ready to jump up and give his mom and dad a warm welcome home.

The eighth day, he's starting to worry. Surely his parents will remember to call a different babysitter?

The ninth day, there's a key in the door. He almost misses it, sat in the kitchen, glaring at his cereal.

"Steve!" Someone calls. It sounds like one of the nice, unfamiliar grown ups who left a voicemail message. "Stevie! You here? How are- oh my god."

"Hi," Steve greets. He waves, tries giving his most polite smile. He almost forgets to keep his lips shut- his dad told him that his teeth don't look nice enough for a grin that big yet. "You're one of the nice people who left me a message, right?"

She stares at him for a long moment, mouth hanging open. "Steve?"

"That's me! What's your name?"

"Robin."

He sticks a hand out to her. "I's nice to meet you Miss Robin!"

"Yeah," she replies, voice high and thin. Her hand is trembling when she gently shakes his hand. "I'm... gonna need to use your phone. Real quick, ok?"

"Um... ok. But you can't make long distance calls, mommy will be very mad at me." He bites his thumb nail, following her into the hall. "Are you a babysitter? Is Sarah sick?"

"Sarah?" Robin echoes, questioningly. She's only half paying attention though, pushing in a phone number.

"My babysitter. She was supposed to be here for my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" She chokes out, spinning around so fast she stumbles. She looks heartbroken.

"Not anymore! It's ok, you don't need to be sad. She gave me my present early too, so it was good."

"Wait. How long have you been... what have you been eating?"

"Um. Cereal, mostly. All the food is different. It's weird."

"That's not- oh, hi," she turns away slightly, talking to whoever is on the phone. "Yeah, I'm at Steve's right now. Gather, like, everyone. We have a major emergency."

"No!" Steve quickly says. He tugs at the bottom of her top. "Not an emergency! You can't say that, you'll get me in trouble!"

"You don't understand, this is-"

"No, please," he pleads. He can only hope he won't get in trouble for talking back to her. "I'm sorry."

"Ok, ok, alright," she agrees. She pauses for a second, listening. "No, that was Steve. Yeah, exactly, that's why-"

"Tell them it isn't an emergency. Please. If dad hears, I'll be in big trouble."

"Ok, big guy. It's not an emergency. Just... yeah, do that. Yeah. Alright. No, I'll be fine. I can deal with it. Ok, see you soon."

She hangs up with a sigh, turning to look at him. She still looks sad.

"Are you ok, Miss Robin?"

Her laugh sounds strained, but she laughs. "I'm alright. How are you?"

"I'm ok. Do you know when mommy and daddy will be back?"

"I don't. I'm sorry, Stevie."

"It's ok. It's only, like... I can't really, uh, cook."

"I can make you something. What's your fave? It was your birthday, you said? Let's get you something special! How old are you?"

He stumbles a little, trying to keep up with her fast talking as well as he long strides. "I'm five. Sarah was going to make me pancakes."

"We can do pancakes." She searches the cupboards and fridge, frowning. "Where is anything?"

"I dunno. I looked but everything is all gone or weird."

"Well... we'll just have to have pancakes later. Special pancakes, for the special birthday boy."

"I guess."

She steps close, putting her hands on her hips as she looks him over. "Are you sure you're five? Did you hit your growth spurt early? You're getting real big."

"I dunno. Mommy says I'm gonna be tall and be a real ladies man, or something."

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Not really. Mommy thinks it's cool though."

"Hm. Are you too big to pick up?"

"Oh, you're not supposed to. Daddy says I'm a big boy now. Big boys don't get picked up."

"Your dad's an asshole."

Steve giggles, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. "You're not supposed to say that! It's a naughty word!"

"Supposed to do this, supposed to do that," she tutts. She leans down, scooping him up into her arms, resting him on her hip. "Your five, stop being so boring!"

Her hand feels so big on his back, like there's no way he could fall with her holding him. She doesn't even seem to mind his hand automatically grabbing the collar of her shirt.

"Daddy doesn't like it when people pick me up."

"What do you like? Hm? Do you want me to put you down?"

"... No."

"Then I'm not putting you down. Daddy isn't here to tell us off, is he? And what he doesn't know, can't hurt him."

She bounces him a few times, making him giggle. Judging by her satisfied grin, that was her aim.

It confuses him, a little. Mostly because she keeps doing that- little things, little comments, trying to make him laugh. Trying to make him smile. Even just listening to him talk about things. Little things. Silly things. Like she isn't annoyed when he goes on, and on, and on.

By the time another person comes in, he's decided that she's the best person in the whole wide world. If she puts him down or tries to leave, he's going to throw a tantrum.

He knows it's bad, but he doesn't want her to leave too. She's cool.

"Oh, God. Robin, please tell me that the baby isn't Steve."

"He's five," Robin corrects. "And yes, it's Steve. I checked, it's him."

"What the hell happened to him?"

"I don't know, I called you!"

"Is something wrong with me?" Steve asks, voice quiet and timid.

"No!" Robin quickly tries to say, at the same time the man says, "yes, obviously."

"Dustin!" Robin scolds.

"What? Lying to him won't help!"

"Neither will being a dick about it!" She tutts at him, adjusting Steve in her arms when she looks to him. "It's nothing, like, bad. It's just kinda weird. See, when we saw you, a week ago... you were a little bit older than me. And now you're five."

Steve stares at her for a moment. She looks too serious, too honest.

"Weird," he says.

"Exactly," she agrees. "From what you've said, though, it's not that bad. You're still you, and you're healthy. You're just... not so big."

"Maybe El can fix him," Dustin mutters, squinting at Steve. He leans close. "When did this happen?"

"He's been like this for a week," Robin tells him. Her voice is quiet, almost scared- it doesn't help that Dustin looks horrified too. "At least."

"Who's been taking care of him?"

"No one."

"What the hell," Dustin turns his frown on Steve. "Why didn't you call anyone?"

"Not supposed to unless it's a real emergency," Steve says. "Mommy says she has a repo... rep... rep-yuh-tay-shun. It's a big thing."

Dustin looks heartbroken, turning to Robin, who shrugs back at him. He groans after a pause, frowning at Robin. "Shit. You can't drive."

"Oh, shit."

"I'll call Eddie," Dustin sighs, already heading to the hall.

"Who's Eddie?" Steve asks.

"Eddie's a friend. He looks a little scary, but don't worry. He's a big softie, an absolute teddy bear." She leans close, whispering loudly with a grin. "Don't tell him I told you, though. He likes to pretend that he's all tough and mean."

"And he's... not mean?"

"Not a cruel bone in his body."

"Ok," he bites at his thumb, frowning when Robin gently pulls his hand out his mouth. "You won't leave though, right?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You gotta promise, though! Pinky Promise!" He lifts a hand, sticking his pinky up- Robin almost immediately wraps her own around his.

"I promise I won't leave you. Who knows what could happen if I leave you alone with the gremlins." She pretends to shudder. "Oh, the horrors.."

"He'll be here in five minutes," Dustin announces.

"That's... quick."

"Yeah. I barely got out 'Steve is in trouble' before he hung up."

"Maybe don't start like that next time," Robin rolls her eyes. She adjusts Steve again, trying to sit him higher on her hip. "He's probably breaking at least, like, five speeding laws or something."

"I don't think that's how it works."

"Whatever." She huffs. "Jesus. Steve, bud, I might need to put you down for a sec."

"Oh... um... do you have to?"

"My arms are really starting to hurt, bud," she says. She looks as upset at the idea as he feels. "Maybe we could sit down together. Would that be a good compromise?"

"Yeah!" He grins. "What's a comp- compa-"

"Com-pruh-mise." She says it slowly, careful to sound it out, as she sits down on the sofa. She pulls Steve around so he's sat on her knees, facing her. She keeps one hand on his back, supporting him.

"Com-pa-mise," Steve repeats.

"Oh, that was great!" Robin encourages, laughing at how big and excited Steves responding grin is. "Well, compromise is when..."

Robin is so patient with him, taking her time with him, making sure he understands what she's saying- before easily jumping onto whatever tangent he brings up.

It feels like only a few minutes have passed by the time the doorbell rings. Dustin stands to answer- Steve had completely forgotten he was there the whole time, too caught up in his conversation with Robin.

He doesn't come back for a moment. Steve can hear muttering, straining to hear what they're saying, but the living room doors shut.

A man follows him inside. He's tall, with long hair and dark clothes. He looks different to anyone Steve has ever seen before. He looks scary.

"Oh god," he mumbles, frowning at Steve. "You're not joking."

Steve tugs at Robins sleeve, leaning close to her, whispering, "who's that?"

"Oh, right!" Robin groans when she stands, lifting Steve with her. "Steve, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."

"This is Steve," Eddie repeats. "Jesus Christ."

"Why do you look so scary?" Steve blurts out. He slaps a hand over his mouth, horrified.

But Eddie just laughs. "Damn, Stevie, tell me what you really think."

"You do!" Steve snaps, face warming. "All the black and chains and stuff."

"Robin is wearing 'black and chains and stuff'."

"Yeah, but Robins cool."

"You wound me," Eddie gasps, slapping a hand to his chest. "I'm totally cooler than Robin."

"Nope," Robin quickly cuts in. "Steve said I'm cool, not you. It's been said, declared- no, decreed! Facts are facts, Eds, suck on it!"

"Ew," Steve and Eddie say in sync, grimacing.

"Alright," Dustin interrupts, hands on his hips. "You're introduced, now can we go? Now?"

Part two

[andhumanslovedstories]

I’m genuinely surprised how much I love nursing. Every shift, I get to meet and help so many people. I’m float pool so I go to the whole hospital, but I’ve also been floating for a while so everywhere is familiar. Sometimes it’s hard for me to walk through the hospital because I know so many people I pass, and we keep stopping to chat. I float to seventeen different units. That’s crazy! I know so much about the hospital! Every night I’m somewhere else, working with a different team and a different group of patients. The constant novelty and familiarity of floating is delicious.

And I love my patients! I know this all sounds so goody two shoes, but I love that I get to help so many people in so many ways. I only get them for one night, so I try to give them my best. I love tucking people in with warm blankets, I love explaining what I’m assessing to a patient with a new diagnosis, I love having heart to hearts with patients at three am when they can’t sleep, I love making people hurt less and stop throwing up. And you can be a real scamp about it. I love stealing snacks from other floors. I love when a patient is like “god I’d love some chocolate” and I get to be like “sir I know the location of every candy drawer in the hospital, I can get you some chocolate.” Or like figuring out like a cheat code for alleviating symptoms. When someone’s like “wow this heating pack rules” and then falls asleep instantly? It feels good and it’s fun. I have a lot of fun figuring out how to cheer up my patients in minor little stupid ways.

I never have to wonder if my job contributes value to the world. When I go home at the end of my shift, I can always think of something I did that makes me feel proud. That rules! It’s so fun to be proud of yourself! It’s so fun to know that what you do matters and that you are doing it well. And if I don’t feel proud, I have a drive home to think about why and I get a chance to do better next shift. And that’s good too. There are nights where I can feel the way I let someone down, and I have to sit with that, and I have to learn from it.

(And I don’t want to sound like I’m crushing it always super-nurse style, like I’m completely immune to ableism and the other -isms, or that I’m never lazy or callous or checked out. I’m new and I’m learning and I’m human and I’m tired and I’m not always living up to the person I hope to be. But I do get a lot of opportunities to make up for it and try again. That feels good.)

And I love teaching new nurses! I love having to constantly keep studying so I can be in a position to teach anyone anything. I love watching people get better at stuff. And I love that as I’ve gotten more confident as a nurse and a person who trains new nurses that I’ve started coaching more and more on the soft skills of nurses. Those are really hard! We should get as much practice with therapeutic communication as we do with Foley catheters!

Also where I work pays good, and I’ve got great job security, dude, I can buy so many stupid little trinkets. I was so nervous when I decided to go to nursing school that I was fucking up my life and other people’s plans for a job I wouldn’t even end up liking. I’d literally never worked something remotely close to healthcare when I decided to go to nursing school. I’d been in a hospital like once. I feel like this big life change shouldn’t have worked out nearly as well as it has, but hey it’s really fuckin cool it did

[birdkatze]

"But werewolves aren't real?" || werewolf! 141 x werewolf! reader

Future pairings = poly 141 x reader

Chapter pairings = none this chapter

Words = 1.2k

[Chapter 2]

Summery: After moving out of the big city and into the forest, you meet some men that might have some awners about whats been causing your pain.

EXPLICIT under the cut

Groaning as your alarm wakes you, you glance over while hitting the snooze button. It was 7:30 in the morning and you had to get up. Sleepily you remember that you were moving today. Blearily you rub your eyes and contemplate getting up at all. However, you couldn’t delay since tomorrow the people who bought your house would be moving in.

Struggling to stand up as every muscle in your body ached and pulled on itself, it was as if they didn’t sit right in your skin. Your tummy aches and burns, and the scar from the dog bite that you had gotten on your wrist as a teen pulled and burned like a brand, you were almost in tears as you grabbed the outfit you set out. It was a simple t-shirt and jeans. 

Everything else was pretty much ready for the movers. You grabbed your heated blanket, three sleep stuffies, and your blankie picking them all up with care and putting them in the front seat of your car. You just lean against your car for a moment and bask in the cool morning air. It would be nice to leave the city behind, it was a blessing your job could be done remotely as a freelance accountant.

The morning felt never ending as the movers loaded everything up in their truck and you managed to get on the road. The pain you felt only got worse even with tylenol and ibuprofen. It was agonizing and you couldn’t take anything stronger till the end of the day when you unpacked some of your stuff and were off the road.

After a few hours you and the moving truck reach your new home, it was a good size cottage with a garden in the back. It looked like it was going to fall apart in a few places but you had been on the phone with a contractor that would help get it all sorted. It also was against a mountain and had forest surrounding it, the chirping of birds felt comforting as you looked around. It was about an hour from the nearest ‘big’ town and was right on the border of a national park. It would be a nice place to raise a family, if you ever got around to it. Although, at your age that most likely was out of the cards. It was stunning and eased the longing feeling for the forest. 

Breathing in the scent of pine you almost moan, you already felt at home. Your body relaxes and the pain dulls to a barely-there ache. You help the movers the best you can, pointing to what went to each room, with their help you put away the small things and they move in the larger things.

The moving company finished moving everything in and you were finally able to lay down and take some real medication. Your doctor had prescribed muscle relaxers, they didn’t ease the ache much and really only put you to sleep, but it was better than writhing in agony all night. 

The doctors claimed it was just due to your age seeing as you were getting older. You didn't believe it since the pain had been plaguing you for decades since you were in your late teens. It made no sense seeing as your body still seemed the same as it was when you were eighteen, you didn’t even have gray hair or wrinkles yet!

Grabbing your heated blanket and medication you climb into bed, taking your meds and then laying down your body is wracked with agony. You gasp and moan in pain, you writhe as your bones and muscles pull and burn. Howling in pain as your body feels like it's on fire. You curl up in the fetal position and sob loudly.

Gasping you still cry, grabbing your heated blanket you put it on max heat and pray for it to maybe, hopefully work. Your eyes run with tears and you feel suffocated as your ribs felt as if they were breaking. The noises that come from your mouth were animalistic, if you weren’t in so much pain you would have been mortified.

As the night progresses it only gets worse and worse, it lulls for a while and you relax. Taking in deep breaths you hope it’s the end but a wolf howls out somewhere in the yard and you are brought right back into pain. As you look in the full body mirror leaning against the wall your eyes are a glowing orange and you look off. You looked like the second to first transformation in an animorphs book.

Eventually your body takes mercy and you pass out, crying yourself to sleep. Your dreams are filled with wolves and forests. You felt safe and at home in your dream, it was so easy and you didn’t hurt. The moon was full in your dream, the forest was stunning in the moonlight. As you meander through the woods, an odd feeling takes over you.

You had been horny before but never this much. You felt hot and sticky and so- so needy. Your body contorts in your dream into a face down ass up position. The urge and lust for babies takes over you. Whining you spread your legs more hoping to entice someone into filling you up. You gasp as someone finally does something, licking at your hole, you can’t tell who it is but it feels so good…so right. 

“Please please, please….pleaaassseee…” you whine desperately for someone to fill you up.

Your breathing stutters as you feel your hole stretch open, it was so warm and comforting. The pace was slow and considerate before it ramped up to something more intense. You had never felt so good ever in your life, none of your sparse partners had ever gotten you to this peak. Reaching your peak you tense up and dive over the edge of pleasure. You moan loudly and clench down. 

Just as you came down from your high, it became cold and your hole clenched around nothing. You whine as you slowly wake up. Rubbing your eye, you were incredibly sore which wasn’t new but the insides of your thighs are tacky with your release. Mortification washed over you as you realized that you had been humping your pillow during your sex dream.

Getting up way too quickly, your body protests and you cry out in pain. Stumbling to the shower you wash off your shame and put the pillow cover in the washing machine. As you dress you hear the doorbell go off.

As quiet as possible you climb downstairs but end up slipping and falling on your wrist causing pain to shoot up your arm. You cry out in pain and gasp harshly. Coupled with the soreness from last night you couldn’t get up and instead curl up in a ball and cry.

Someone knocks on the door again “You alright there?” The voice was rough and deeply masculine “I usually watch the house so I have a key, can I come in?”

“Give me a minute…” You whimper and stand up shakily.

You stumble to the door and open it.

[standfucker]

Hello!! I've been thinking about an AFAB reader in the straw hat crew who dresses as a man. Short hair and masculine clothes that cover her up. She doesn't want people treating her differently or going easy on her in fights because of her gender hence her constant charade. Because of this the crew doesn't know that she is actually woman. I'd like to request drabbles of how Zoro, Sanji, And Luffy would react when finding out and where they would. Also, SFW please!

This was fun! ^^ Thanks for submitting a request! I tried to keep these a consistent length and failed. Each one ended up longer than the last... I'll have to keep trying harder to pace myself.

Discovering Your Secret - Monster Trio

CW: chest binding, canon-typical violence, injury (not described in detail), gun violence, battle trauma, nudity, awkwardness

Luffy

Group bathing was one bonding activity on the Sunny that you had to miss out on. Shyness wasn’t like you, but the guys chalked it up to a weird personality quirk and long since stopped questioning it. Some people liked their privacy, no big deal. Really, it was never a problem until Luffy barged into the bathroom one day while you were soaking, the door swinging open so hard it bounced back shut behind him.

You tried to shout that the bathroom was occupied, but it was drowned out by Luffy’s own yell of “GUM GUM CANNONBALL!” The next thing you knew, Luffy had somehow launched himself out of his clothes and into the tub, making a massive splash that took out half the water. It was only by sheer luck that he didn’t collide with you. 

Instantly you sank down low into the remaining water so only your head was above the surface. The clear water offered no protection, however, so you had to cover your chest and cross your legs. Embarrassment and panicky fear were rotten feelings to have when you had just gotten relaxed, and you found yourself getting angry on top of it all. This was such a stupid way to be found out, and it was only because your captain lacked any self-awareness.

Luffy came up with a laugh, then opened his eyes and blinked at you for a second. “Oh, hey!” he said, oblivious to your stress. “I didn’t know you were in here! Robin told me she just drew a bath, so I came in. Didn’t hear the rest of what she said–I guess she drew it for you! Shi shi shi.”

You stared at him, open-mouthed, too stunned to speak right away.

Luffy’s brows raised when you didn’t respond. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t like to bathe with others. Sorry!” “Luffy?” you tried, but he kept talking.

”Well, I’m here now, so we might as well share! We can wash each other’s backs.”

”Luffy.”

”What are you so shy for, anyway? You look fine to me.”

”Luffy!” you snapped.

”What?”

”Get out!”

”But I’m already wet!” he complained, and you mentally screamed at his stubbornness.

”Then I’ll get out! But you have to look away!” you barely managed to keep from yelling at him, trying not to lose your cool lest he get suspicious.

Luffy pursed his lips. “Fine, sheesh. I won’t look.”

He turned his head away. You hesitated, then quickly stood up and made to leave. You took one step onto the tub–and immediately slipped, thanks to the water Luffy splashed there a moment ago. A yelp left you as you fell fast.

”Y/N!” Right before you hit the tub, Luffy’s arms shot out and wrapped around you, pulling you safely back inside. “That was close!”

You froze in place, heart in your throat both from the fall and from your new position. Luffy’s arms were wrapped around your torso. He could clearly feel your chest against his rubbery arms. You gaped at him, wide-eyed in shock. Luffy smiled. Then he squeezed you again and frowned. Slowly, he looked down at your chest, then down even further.

”WHAT?!” Luffy yelled in shock, his eyes bugging out. “Y/N got attacked by Iva?! But when did you meet him?!”

You facepalmed hard.You’d heard about Ivankov through Luffy’s stories, so you had an idea of what he was talking about. But he missed the mark so hard it was astonishing.

Luffy quickly unwound his arms from around you and covered his face, stammering. “I’m sorry, Y/N! I had no idea!”  

Even though your own face was hot, you couldn’t help but start to laugh, though it was a bit nervous. As you carefully exited the tub, toweling off and pulling on a robe, you contemplated letting Luffy go on believing you were attacked by Iva. But then you would have to make up a story about meeting him, and lying to your bright-eyed captain seemed wrong. He meant well, after all.

Maybe this whole charade was unfair to him. Luffy couldn’t hold onto a secret to save his life anyway, so once he knew, the whole crew would know too. Still…though it would be a big change for you, it would be one less thing to worry about…

You draped your towel along the edge of the tub and perched on it, crossing your arms. “What did we learn about respecting people’s privacy?”

”I’m sorry,” Luffy said, peeking through his fingers before lowering his hands. “I didn’t know you had a reason…I won’t do it again! But when did you cross paths with Iva? During the two years I was away?”

”No, Luffy. I’ve never met Ivankov.” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I’ve been a girl this whole time. I was just pretending to be male.”

”Whaaat!? Really?” Luffy’s eyes bugged out at you again. “But why?”

You did your best to explain your reasons. Luffy only seemed to grow more confused as you went on, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

”I don’t get it. Nami and Robin are strong,” he said.

“Never said they weren’t,” you replied patiently. “But Nami and Robin get underestimated constantly. Maybe they’re used to it, but I can’t stomach the idea. It’s insulting.”

“Hmm…” Luffy thought for a second. “Does this mean we can’t wrestle anymore?”

“Of course we can! The whole point is that I don’t want you to treat me differently!”

“Oh… Oh! I see!” Luffy said, his eyes lighting up with realization. “Okay then! I’ll whoop your butt like normal!”

A warm feeling filled your chest, and you smiled. Now he was catching on, and he didn’t seem to mind. The relief was almost dizzying.

You asked Luffy to try to keep it a secret for now.

He lasted about three weeks, until he asked you one day, point-blank in front of the others: “Hey, Y/N? Where do your boobs go when you get dressed?”

Zoro

“Behind you!”

Zoro’s shout made you whirl around, raising your weapon, but your opponent was already on the downswing. Their sword cut your chest open from clavicle to rib. Pain sizzled out from the gash, hot and burning, but in addition to that, you could feel that your binder was damaged, freeing your breasts. You grit your teeth through the pain and managed to strike your foe down. Then you hunched over yourself, arms crossed over your chest, quivering. The warm blood on your arms told you this one might be serious, but despite the wound, all that was on your mind was getting found out.

Zoro rushed to your side, mowing down foes as he went until he was there. “Did they get you? Let me see.” But you shook your head. “Let me see!” he insisted, an edge of panic to his voice as blood dripped onto the ground below you.

You looked up at him with visible fear, which he misunderstood. “You’re going to be okay, but you have got to let me see.”

Shaking, you lowered your arms, revealing your wound and your secret all at once.

Zoro’s eyes widened, momentarily speechless. Then he snapped out of it, hurriedly taking off his shirt and wrapping it around your torso. He picked you up, one arm supporting your bottom while the other tucked you against his chest to hide your front. You pressed your face into his shoulder, discomposed from the shock of the injury and from the sudden reveal.

What would he think of you now? All the times you arm wrestled, all the times you sparred, all the drinking contests and shared conversations and shared fights–would you never experience them again? You kept asking yourself those questions as Zoro took you out of the slowing battle.

Chopper was shocked, but promised to keep your secret. However, after he found out that you’d been binding your chest with bandages almost 24-7, he scolded you harshly, going on about how you could permanently damage your body.

At your request, Zoro’s the only one Chopper let visit you in the ship’s infirmary. For a while, Zoro didn’t say anything, just stared at your bandaged chest with an unreadable expression.

“I wanted you to respect me,” you said, breaking the silence. He didn’t respond. “I could never be your equal otherwise. Please understand.”

Zoro looked down at you and gave a heavy sigh, eyes distant for a moment. “...You remind me of someone I used to know.” He sat on the edge of your bed, some softness to his gaze now. “I get it. I get why you hid this. But you’re an idiot.”

”I know. I let myself get hurt.”

”No, dummy. Because you treated the crew like we wouldn’t understand. You didn’t trust us. It makes sense in the beginning, but after all these years?” He frowned at you, and you realize that deep down, he was hurt.

”I didn’t want anything to change between us.” You looked away, ashamed. “Between you and me.”

”It doesn’t have to.”

”You don’t like to fight women.”

Zoro grimaced at the accusation, knowing you’re right. The infirmary was quiet for a minute.

”I’m sorry,” Zoro finally said. “I’ll…I’ll do better. Nothing has to change.” He paused, and offered up a smirk. “After all, I go easy on you anyways.”

You feel yourself tear up at his acceptance, and grinned back at him. “Once I heal up, I’ll make you regret that.” You paused, face falling. “You won’t tell anyone, right? I don’t want Sanji to…you know.”

“Yeah.” Zoro made a face at the cook’s name. ”It’ll stay between the three of us,” he promised. “I still think you should tell them, but it’s not my secret to share.”

”Maybe in time. I’ll have to think about it,” you said, and he nodded.

Zoro held out his hand. You clasped it in a big swing, grimacing when it made your wound sting, and squeezed as tightly as you could.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Zoro said, squeezing back. “Okay? We’re still buds.”

”Okay.” Again, you felt the tears threatening to spill.

”But if you cry, I’ll make fun of you.”

”Shut up!”

Once Zoro realizes you were hindered by the binder for all of your matches against him, he got fired up. All the times he won, you had a handicap–it wasn’t a fair match, he decided. However, there wasn’t really a place on the ship where you could take it off in front of others, so he was forced to remain undecided on the topic of which one of you is stronger.

It wasn’t until you revealed your secret to the others that you and Zoro finally got to have a proper, no-holds-barred sparring session. True to his word, he didn’t hold back, too battle-hungry to care if he touched your chest when you wrestled or exchanged blows. (Sanji snarled in the background, but neither of you were paying him any attention.)

As it turned out, when you let your aching ribs heal and could breathe properly, you were far better than you were before. You ended up almost defeating the swordsman, and he was so proud of you that he threw an arm around your shoulders and noogied your head until you were certain he left track marks in your skull. “That’s my girl!”

Sanji

The impact of your sword against your opponent’s knocked the weapons out of the both of your hands. Undeterred, you dashed forward to take them on barehanded, confident in your unarmed strength. Right as you reached them, they drew a hidden flintlock from their back belt, and touched the muzzle to your forehead.

You froze. The battlefield seemed to fade away, nothing solid or corporeal except for the gun to your head. You couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in your ears, feel anything but the cold steel pressed to your skull. Everything rushed through your head in one synaptic burst, a thousand million thoughts of how soon, how final this was. All the years of adventure, ending here. One slip-up. You were going to die.

You couldn’t even feel regret. Just the sensation of your heart beating as if it was in every blood vessel. You didn’t hear the call of your name, nor the shouted “Diable Jambe!”

In the time it took for your opponent to squeeze his trigger finger, Sanji appeared seemingly out of nowhere and kicked the guy’s hand so hard you saw it break. The gun fired into the ground a few feet away from you, and with another burning kick, Sanji knocked him out.

You were in shock, standing there unharmed, but useless. Sanji took notice, calling for you again. When you didn’t respond, he rushed to you and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you hard. “Get it together! We still need you!”

Suddenly the sound, the sensation, everything came rushing back, hitting you all at once. You blinked, glanced at the surrounding battle, then at Sanji’s tense expression.

“Y/N!”

“I’m okay!” you said. “T-Thanks. I’m okay.” With that, you rushed for your fallen sword, ready to rejoin the battle.

It wasn’t your first brush with death, but this one rattled you worse than the others. After the battle you dwelled on it constantly, thinking back to that moment and breaking out into a cold sweat even though you’d just cleaned up. You couldn’t think about anything else, focus on anything going on around you. You skipped dinner, stomach too upset to eat, and were barely able to sleep despite your exhaustion from the day’s battle. You skipped breakfast the following day, and only around lunchtime did your mind seem to catch up to your body. You watched Luffy and the crew mess around, playing and laughing and arguing, and suddenly you realized that you almost lost this forever. Immediately, the urge to cry overtook you with tremendous force. You hurried through the ship’s interior, shoved yourself into a corner, and sobbed into your hands.

Dead. Oh god, you were almost dead. How was it that easy? All the strength you had worked so hard to build, meaningless. How could you have been so overconfident? How could you have let yourself lose so easily? Had Sanji not been there, you would have been gone. Gone.

The tears ran hot down your cheeks, and you bit your tongue to keep from being loud. It could have gone so much worse. Sanji was dependable, but tended to keep his eye on the girls during fights. He only saved you because you were close by. It was sheer luck that he saved you. Only luck.

“Y/N!”

Sanji’s call of your name made you go quiet. You resisted the urge to sniffle, even as your nose ran. If he found you…it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but you’d rather not be caught crying. You spent years building the image of the stoic, masculine fighter, and would prefer to keep up that appearance. Sanji called you again, closer this time, and you cleared your throat.

“Yeah?” you called out.

“Lunch is ready, so hurry on down,” he announced from the doorway, just out of your vision.

It took you a minute to gather yourself, but after washing your face and regulating your breathing, you were ready to rejoin the group once more.

In the weeks following, you dealt with your shock and processed it the best that you could. Eventually you started sleeping better again, your appetite returned, and life seemed to go on as normal…except for one thing: Sanji. He started acting strangely when he was nearby.

It started off small. He was far more pleasant around you than he normally was. Not that you and Sanji held animosity toward each other, but usually he treated you like another male: friendly enough if you weren’t Zoro, but not to this degree. He never really brightened up at the sight of you before. Nor did he ask for your opinion in his upcoming meal plan for the week. At first you chalked it up to him noticing your earlier distress somehow, but after you got better, he kept on acting saccharine.

One day, he brought you a drink. Not served you at the table with everyone else, but went out of his way to bring it to where you were sunbathing on the deck. You could only stare at him until he awkwardly left it by your side, stammered something about the heat, and then left.

Incidents like that kept happening, usually out of sight of the other crewmates, but not always. The others started picking up on it too. At one point, Sanji brought Robin, Nami, and Chopper slices of cake–and then brought you a plate as well. That time, everyone’s eyes were on him, but Sanji pretended like nothing was off.

When he chirped “Hi, Y/N-chan,” to you as he passed by you in the hall, you had enough. You grabbed him and shoved him against the wall, hard. He immediately knew he messed up, but despite your fingers fisted in his collar and your murderous expression, he only flushed red.

“What are you doing?” you hissed.

“I–I’m–” Sanji stammered. Blood started to run from one of his nostrils.

“Why are you acting like this?” you demanded. “Being all sappy and disgusting to me. Who do you think I am?”

“I–I’m sorry,” Sanji tried. You grit your teeth, beginning to fear the worst.

“Did you lose all respect for me when you saved my life?” you asked bluntly.

“Of course not! I think highly of you.”

“Too much so, don’t you think?” you had to struggle not to shout. “Is this because you heard me crying last month?”

Sanji shut his mouth, glancing aside and giving away the answer. He nodded.

“Am I weak to you or something?”

“No, that’s not it–” he tried, but you pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back into it.

“I don’t understand! You’re too soft with me. Why are you treating me so nicely?”

“Because you’re a woman, and women deserve the best.” He said it unflinchingly and with conviction, looking right back into your eyes.

The answer was obvious, but a part of you still hoped it was something else, hoped that because he didn’t go overboard with his affections that he didn’t know. Your grip on his collar weakened and gave away along with your hopes, hands hanging limply at your sides.

“When did you find out?” you asked quietly. “Or should I say, how?”

“I saw you crying.” Sanji pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his nose.

“So?”

“You may look and act like a man…but a woman’s tears leave no room for doubts.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Unfair. That’s what this was. Just unfair. Because after all those years living as a male, you got found out because of Sanji’s freakish sixth sense for women. Your sigh was heavy, and you had to rest your head in your hand for a moment.

“Okay, well, we need to set some things straight. You can’t keep slipping up around me, or the others will find out. They already suspect something’s up.”

“I'm trying!” Sanji retorted. “I knew you were hiding it for some reason, so I tried to keep myself in check! Do you know how hard it’s been?”

“How hard it’s been?” You wanted to punch him. “You have no idea what I go through every day just to keep up appearances! Just to earn the regard I deserve! Why couldn't you respect me as a man?”

“I don't respect men.”

“Ugh!” You punched the wall by his head instead. Sanji didn’t flinch. “You have to take me seriously.”

“I am!”

“We can’t keep going like this.” You bit your lip in frustration, trying to think of a solution. Maybe you could use his weird complex around women to your advantage, if he would just stop giving it away. “Okay, listen. Sanji. If you really want to do me a favor, the best thing you can do is help me keep my secret. That means whenever you have the urge to treat me like a girl, you nip it in the bud. Can you do that?”

“I…I’ll try.” Sanji went to take your hand, but you yanked it away.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about! You can’t be so familiar.”

“I’m sorry. It’s hard! I–I want to treat you right. I want to be close to you.”

“I want to be close to you to,” you admitted, surprising yourself. “But I. I’d… I’d rather hold onto my secret.”

He looked hurt, which sent a cold pang of guilt into your stomach. Reaching out, you patted his shoulder. “I’m depending on you, do you understand?”

Sanji took in your expression–serious, worried, uncertain–and nodded. The hand that reached for yours instead went over his heart. “I promise,” he said, “I will do everything I can to help keep your secret.”

The talk with Sanji helped massively, fixing his odd behavior around you for the most part. There was one thing he couldn’t give up, and that was giving you a nickname. He called you something in French–“mon petit chou,” he would say–but as it was foreign, you figured it was safe to use around the crew, and let it slide.

It was only a few months later that you learned Robin was fluent in French.

[nsoulnet]

🧴-bodyguard els!

summary: in which the reader's father is a celebrity, so he gets reader a bodyguard for protection! ellie sees through the protests and rebellion, and she knows exactly how to get you to admit what you want.

warnings: MDNI!!!!, bratty!reader, lowkey spoiled!reader, brat tamer! ellie, smuttt, nipple play, degrading, nipple piercing, bodyguard!ellie, bdsm, power dynamics, teasing, lowkey daddy issues!reader, probably more that i forgot to list

the people have spoken! most requested from my last poll💞

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩.✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

"what the fuck do you mean I'm getting a bodyguard!? you can't be serious!" you scream, fuming at your dad for his latest antics. you usually keep your cool, but he's never said anything this stupid before.

a bodyguard? what for?

you're so annoyed he's taking this step, sure he's famous and you're pretty reckless- so what? you're not a small child, you're grown and you can take care of yourself!

your father, on the other hand, seems not to care- like usual. he keeps that same blank stare as you unleash your rage, and once you pause to catch your breath, he excuses himself.

too busy with the next brand deal, or advertisment, or magazine column. soo frustrating!

you can't believe him, buying you some guy to follow you around and make sure you live the dullest, most monotone life possible! this is truly a nightmare!

before the bodyguard even arrives, you're thinking of ways to scare him off. you could completely torment him, maybe bring as many girls home as possible and get touchy. or maybe you could pretend like he hurt you! that would rile your father up!

by the day you finally meet your new incarcerator, you're sure you'll have him gone in less than a month. you know it won't be long before it's back to programming as usual.

except, something unexpected happens. you're introduced to the bodyguard, and instead of some pervy, buff man, you find a woman standing before you.

a very pretty woman.

you didn't plan for this, and it frustrates you even more that you father somehow managed to be one step ahead this time. this woman made you nervous before you even knew her name!

you have to keep your mean façade up, though, so you make sure to say something snarky. "so you're the woman who signed up to act like my babysitter.. how much is he paying you, huh?", you snicker in her face, and she just smiles.

"good money, that's for sure. my name is ellie, what's yours?", she says, walking you into your apartment. you don't even want to look at her, because it gets you all flustered.

you're surprised she doesn't say anything about your silence- she's not trying to control you yet. you're tired of the quiet.

you run into your bedroom, flopping on the bed and groaning in annoyance at the sight of ellie in the doorway. "my room doesn't even have windows- what could even happen?! can I get some space!" you yell out into the doorway, and ellie just nods before walking off. what?

she... listened?

the next few weeks are beyond what you could ever have imagined. ellie doesn't invade your privacy, she barely even bothers you, and she's discreet whenever you both go out.

it starts to annoy you how well the whole bodyguard thing is working out. because it means your father was right about this being a good choice, and you can't stand for your father to be right.

so you get even more reckless. more drinking, more nights out, more ellie having to drag your sloppy drunk self home. even so, you never heard a word of complaint- in fact, she took any chance she could find to get closer with you. it was getting irritating.

but if you couldn't take ellie down, the least you could do is a big fuck-you to your dad. let him know you can never let him win!

the press has had a field day with the relationship between you and your father, and the many rebellious stunts you've pulled before. you've gotten tattoos, some facial piercings and you weren't against most body mods.

however, you'd never done anything really scandalous. nothing like getting a nipple piercing.

you were fairly drunk one night, stumbling home with ellie's arm just barely propping you up, when you passed by your favorite piercing store. you were the most impulsive when you were drunk, and as soon as you saw that shop, you floundered right over.

so many kinds of piercings, but all you wanted was a nipple piercing- and you wanted it bad.

so bad, that ellie couldn't stop you when you got it done. she defeatedly paid before taking you home, but you noticed a glint in her eye.

the next day, ellie sat you down on your bed after your shower, and asked about the piercing. "does it hurt? is it sensitive?" she asked in a careful voice. you wanted to give her attitude soo bad, but not when she acted so caring.

you tried to just brush her off, but eventually she cut to the chase. "listen, you know im here to protect you, right? it's really not safe to... be so impulsive. i know you find me irritating. but please, just let me help you... you can listen this one time?" she says, with such saccharine eyes you couldn't help but melt.

"right! yeah, sure, just... what- what do i need to do?" you asked. she was just being so nice, it made you so flustered....

thats why you listened when she asked if you could let her see the piercings. even though letting her see your bare nipples was... humiliating, warmth was spreading in your underwear as well on your face. shit- you were aroused?!

ellie seemed so kind, gently inspecting the piercing. your nipples had always been sensitive, so they were even worse pierced. just feeling them rub against your shirt made your body tingle.

"there we go, you're going to let me help you clean 'em, right?" ellie said, voice nearly a whisper. you were willing to let her do anything- so you nodded quickly.

ellie used some cotton pads that were wet with saline solution, before just feeling your nipples with her soft fingers. she noticed the blissed out look in your eyes, and that's when she decided to stop. "alright, you're all clean! you did such a a great job, y'know.." she said, in a whispery voice.

you wanted to scream. you wanted to whine, beg for her to keep touching you, but you started to feel bad. she was just trying to help you clean the piercing, wasn't she?

"wait, what's wrong?" ellie says, pausing in the middle of putting the supplies back. "did I hurt you?" she asks, and your brain begins to short-circuit. this much affection from a girl has been previously unheard of, and it just all feels too good... your brain is so fuzzy...

ellie understands when a small whine escapes your lips. "wait... something going on here?'" she says, narrowing her eyes. she has you right where she wants you.

you stumble over your words, trying to make excuses for your flusteredness, but ellie doesn't hear any of it. "what, you really feel that way about your bodyguard?", she leans in and whispers.

you can't deny the attraction you've had to her for a while. anyway, you won't get what you want if you do.

"that- right, I'm sorry, just let me deal with this really quick," you say breathlessly. you can't bear to tell her what you really feel. it's too bad, then, that she has every intention to make you.

"no, don't worry... I can help you. just say it. tell me what you want me to do..." she whispers, before getting up from the bed with a cocky smile you've hardly seen before. you can tell she's waited all too long for this.

"ellie... els, shit, I... need you to help me over here..." you whine, hand resting on your soaking cunt. you just want ellie to fill you up.

luckily, she takes that as enough begging. you don't even realize it when your clothes are gone, or when she has you bent over the bed.

her fingers slip in and out of your sticky folds, lighting your skin on fire. all you can think of is how bad you want her.

her warm tongue abuses your clit, her hands have a bruising grip on your thighs. she has your legs shaking and your head spinning.

"js'sso pretty down here, right sweetness?" she mumbles, giving your ass a light slap before getting up and undressing herself. a thick, 8-inch marbled strap made its way out of her boxers, and you practically drooled.

but you'd taken many straps before, 8 inches wasn't too bad for you. so you got cocky. "what, only 8? you sure you don't have something bigger?" you sneered, and a look flashed in her eyes.

"there she is, the brat is back isn't she?" she chuckled. her hand snaked down your back teasingly, before pressing your back into a deeper arch. you groaned at the pressure, but it wasn't too much.

"you gonna p-put it in already?" you say, voice wavering. ellie looks kind of scary, like she's been waiting for you to say something distasteful.

her hands grip your hips, and you feel the strap slide in. it's definitely got some girth to it, but what's really shocking is how quickly ellie slams it in. so fast, you feel like you can taste her in your mouth.

"come on, where did the attitude go? i thought 8 inches was nothing for you?" she whispers in your ear, sliding in and out at a harsh pace. you can't even speak, body shaking as she fucks you relentlessly.

one of her hands is playing with your nipple, and the other is gently rubbing circles on your clit. "els- ellie, please.." you choke out. she's going so roughly, but you feel like you're about to cum all over yourself.

"you know, you act so insufferable... celebrity's daughter, thinking she can treat people like shit, because what? 'cause her daddy doesn't pay enough attention to 'er?" she says, groaning at how tight you're squeezing the strap.

" 'm so sorry els- shitt, ellie, please..." you whimper, but she just gives your thigh a light smack. "you're sorry, huh?" she mocks, before grabbing your face and kissing all over your lips. "you gonna be good now, right? 'cause bad girls don't get to cum!" she grunts, slamming her hips into yours even harder. your cum is running down your legs, a creamy mess that gets your thighs all sticky and tacky.

"mhm, m'gonna be so good for you els! please, please just let me cum..", you mumble, shoving your face into a pillow because you're just so needy that you put your defenses down.

"good- shit, good fucking girl." she coos, giving your sloppy wet cunt multiple light slaps. "you gonna cum? come on baby, you can do it..."

for a second, everything is misty. your legs shake and go weak, stuffing you even fuller of ellie's thick strap. creamy, sticky squirt sprays all over the bed, while ellie's grip on your hips tightens.

"shit, you- you feel so good..." she mumbles, before nearly collapsing on top of you from the intensity of her own orgasm.

you lay on the bed, out of breath, when suddenly she leans in close from behind you and whispers something.

"round two?"

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩.✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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[eevees-hobbies]

um um um Eve I had a bad day today and I was wondering if you could (please feel free to ignore me if you’re not interested or I’m annoying!!) write something about some of the windbre boys showing off their chubby gf 👉🏼👈🏼 they can get smutty or stay wholesome, whichever is easier for you. Maybe ume, togame, sakura, endo, and hiragi? Idk if that’s too many people. I hope you’re having a great day!!

Author’s Note: Hi, Anon! I’m sorry to hear you had a bad day,and even though I’m fulfilling this request a few days late (sorry!) I hope that the little piece below makes you smile even a little bit. I’m a thick girl myself, so I love when writers talk about readers' curves, rolls, cellulite, big asses, BREASTS, BIG THIGHS (oh my). Also, please don’t say you’re annoying because you aren’t and never could be, babe 💕. Sorry for not writing for Endo yet (I still haven’t gotten to him in the manga!). I enjoyed writing this. Sakura, please marry me!

Content Warning: Made with fem! reader in mind :) Reader x Haruka Sakura, Reader x Hajime Umemiya, Reader x Toma Hiragi. It's fluffy, except Hiragi does try to sneak something inappropriate in there. Also, tw: for body insecurities.

Word Count: 892 (it’s not about size, it’s what you do with it!)

Dividers by Saradika

Haruka Sakura

Quite frankly, Sakura is tired of your bullshit tonight. You’ve been acting out of the ordinary, hiding behind him, avoiding eye contact with others, and talking barely above a whisper.

“What is wrong with you?” His dual-colored eyes search yours for any indication of what might be your problem. 

“You haven’t given me shit all night, and it’s startin’ to make me nervous!”

You briefly let out a small laugh, but it’s so barely detectable that Sakura can’t savor the sound. 

You open your mouth but avert your eyes from him. “I…I’m being dumb, but I don’t like the way this dress feels on me. I shouldn’t have worn it, and now people are s-staring at me…”

Sakura looks around at the packed bar. Sure, he notices glances, but he knows what it’s like to be looked at as though you’re shit on the bottom of someone’s shoe, and that’s not what he’s seeing. He leans closer to you, his face so close that you can see the individual hairs of his eyelashes.

“Look at me. Everyone’s looking at you because you’re fucking gorgeous, and if someone did have anything to say about your dress,” he pauses, “my new favorite dress, I’ll kick their fucking asses!”

You look up at Sakura in pure adoration, love, and devotion—feeling the insecurity wash away as he looks down at you as though you are the only person in the entire world that matters–and to Haruka Sakura, that’s the case.

“The man that you are, Haruka.” 

Hajime Umemiya

You stand nervously in the bathroom of Cafe Pothos as you splash cool water on your face. You feel on the verge of passing out as anxiety grips your throat and chest, making it hard to breathe.

Quick but soft knocks at the door break you out of your panic attack, and Umemiya’s soothing voice reaches you, “Y/N, my friends are here. Are you ok, babe?”

You are not ok.

You’ve been dating Umemiya for months, and everything had been perfect until he planned a meet-n-greet with his friends. Residual insecurity from partners who were cruel after their friends disapproved of you and what you looked like set you into a spiral that you couldn’t break out of.

But it’s now or never.

You pull open the door and give him your best attempt at a smile for someone who was just having a panic attack in a public restroom.

Umemiya knows exactly what’s going through your mind without you having to say it, and despite his constant praise of you, he understands that sometimes actions are far more effective.

He grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the central area of the cafe, where all of his friends sit. You want to crawl into yourself as all eyes are on you, but before you shut down, Umemiya speaks first.

“Guys! This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Please don’t embarrass me in front of her; she thinks I’m cool.” 

Hiragi offers a kind smile, “Well, she’s going to be disappointed because there’s not a cool bone in your body. Nice to me ya, Y/N. He talks about you all the time.”

Your eyes get wide as you look up at a blushing Umemiya. 

“Really?”

Someone you recognize as Tsubakino chimes in, “All the time, and who can blame him when you’re so cute?”

“Hey, guys, leave the complimenting my girl to me, please. Not trying to have you steal her.”

You feel Umemiya’s hand squeeze yours, and your shoulders relax as you wonder what you were worrying about to begin with.

Toma Hiragi 

Hiragi sighs heavily as he listens to the continuous chatter of Umemiya who is giving a long-winded update on the state of horticulture efforts across North America. It’s a random topic, but Umemiya is in hyperfixation mode, and there’s no stopping him once he gets started.

You’re sitting with them, trying not to let your mind wander in case there’s a pop-quiz on the subject.

Hiragi looks at you and rolls his eyes with a smile; you manage a barely silent giggle in return.

Twenty minutes pass, and the torture ends; as Umemiya squeezes out of the booth and you stand up to allow him to pass, Hiragi follows suit, placing a hand on your stomach and giving the soft flesh a gentle squeeze almost on instinct.

Your face heats up because surely Umemiya saw that, but if he did, he says nothing as he waves goodbye to you both.

You quickly turn to Hiragi once Ume is out of sight, “Toma! Why’d you do that!?”

His brows furrow in confusion at your sudden outburst, “do what?”

“You grabbed my stomach in front of Ume and it was NOT an innocent grab!”

“There you go, being a pain in my ass again. What are you talking about? Ume knows you’re curvy, everyone knows, and I’ll be damned if I let you police my squeezing of you in public.”

“You are an undeniable pervert that should be on a list with other perverts!”

He shakes his head and pulls out his gas-kun10. For someone that he loves beyond a shadow of a doubt, you still somehow manage to stimulate the wrath of his poor digestive system.

“You owe me for that smart-ass remark, girl. You can sit on my-”

“TOMA!”

[tossawary]

In the live-action "One Piece" adaptation, there's a brief confrontation in which Cabaji says that Zoro chased him and his brother through the jungles of Goa Kingdom or something. Which made me think IMMEDIATELY about an AU in which Zoro and Luffy meet early, when Luffy is around 15 or so and Zoro is around 17, sometime shortly after Ace has set out on his own adventure and Luffy is on his own.

So, like, imagine Zoro being this 17yo bounty hunter who thinks he's hot shit, people are starting to call him "THE Demon of East Blue". He gets one Cabaji brother but the other escapes, leaving Zoro injured and alone in the jungle (similar to the side wound that Zoro gets at Orange Town in the manga). It's getting dark, he has a corpse to drag back to a Marine base somewhere back in Goa Kingdom, and there are beasts here. He thinks he can see a tiger, stalking him in the bush.

And then some 15yo in a straw hat and shorts bounces out of the trees going, "WHOOOOOAAAAA, you're SO cool! I was watching your fight! You're amazing! You should join my pirate crew!" Like... what? (If there was a tiger, the tiger has fucking RUN FOR IT. It doesn't want to be EATEN.)

So, Luffy drags Zoro back to Dadan's place for medical aid ("YOU BROUGHT A BOUNTY HUNTER INTO MY HOUSE?!" Dadan yells, while her guys patch up this kid anyway) and politely introduces Zoro to Makino ("I'm not going to be your first mate, don't introduce me that way," Zoro says for the tenth time already). And Zoro ends up being convinced to stick around Dawn Island and Foosha Village to train for a month (and also to heal, but that's less persuasive), with Luffy following him around like a starry-eyed puppy the entire time, unless he's dragging Zoro off to fight beasts and each other in the jungle. Kicking the shit out of each other is a sign of FRIENDSHIP.

Seeing Luffy's burgeoning fighting skills is enough to make Zoro go, "Maybe this kid is alright," and hearing Luffy talk about dreams is the beginning of Zoro's doom. But he's not going to sign up until Luffy is more impressive! If Luffy wants him for his crew, he has to come find Zoro when he sets out on his own adventure. And Luffy agrees this is reasonable even if he's going to miss his new best friend sooooo badly.

Now, I'm a Zolu fan (ace-spectrum Luffy), so I like to imagine Zoro and Luffy having a really dorky teenage romance between future monsters here. If only because when Luffy and Nami bust into Captain Morgan's Marine Base, Luffy can go (after 2 years of having Makino keep track of Zoro in the newspapers), "Oh, my boyfriend is here!!! 😃 I wonder how much stronger he's gotten? I need to impress him so that he'll join my pirate crew!!!" And Nami and Koby can be like, "What the FUCK are you talking about?! The PIRATE HUNTER?! The demon who kills pirates?!" Luffy: "Yeah! ❤️"

Even better if Luffy has already gone to a couple different islands (with or without Koby), loudly going, "I'm going to be King of the Pirates! And also, HAS ANYONE SEEN MY BOYFRIEND?! He has green hair and three swords and he gets lost really easily!" Or maybe Luffy was just shouting this on Alvida's ship and around the town under Morgan's control? It doesn't really matter. It just has to be loud enough that Garp finally catches wind of this situation.