#And she even has a better outfit than you

[hard-core-super-star]

Can i ask one for Kate Bishop. One where kate and reader's are best friends .they sleep together after being drunk. R is hopelessly in love with her. Everybody including kate knows this but it's like an un spoken thing.katie says doesn't see r like that because obviously she's afraid of losing the friendship if the relationship fails. Tells r that night was a one tym thing . After sometimes start seeing somebody so r will get the idea. So much angst ,heart breaks ,Kate being an idiot ,r being lovesick puppy .and a Happy ending .☺️ Its okay if you can't .Thank you ♥

an inch away from more than just friends [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: falling in love with your best friend is supposed to be easy. unfortunately, neither you nor kate are particularly good at talking about your feelings.

warnings: a complete mess of fluff, smut, angst, and idiots in love; kate is HORRIBLE at acknowledging her feelings; drunken hookup in a storage closet {lots of grinding + teasing; r is a brat and kate is annoyed but turned on; small bits of dirty talk}

wordcount: 4k

a/n: I'M ALIVE! sorry for not posting much on here, i've been spending a lot of this past month working on my vampire!kate story so inspiration has been quite limited. i'm thinking about posting more short drabbles but idk how to format them 😅 anyway, i hope you're all doing well and i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You weren't sure how you had ended up here. You hated parties. Especially ones thrown by rich people who had nothing better to do than spend a ridiculous amount of money on expensive booze and shitty food.

Not to mention, this particular party was being hosted in some skyscraper in downtown New York, which meant no matter how badly you wanted to escape the bustling atmosphere, there was nowhere else to go. Even the balconies that littered the outside were subject to the nonstop sounds of traffic.

At least it was better than being inside and having to sit through endless small talk about things you didn't understand.

A familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you lean against the railing, silently watching the cars drive by on the street below you. "There you are."

You turn your head and give Kate a small smile. "Hey."

The archer approaches you, a certain bounce in her step that isn't coming from her normal bubbly personality. 

While you weren't the biggest fan of these types of parties, Kate somehow thrived in them. Sure, she could be awkward most times, and she had a terrible habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but she was charming. And as much as she hated the rich men who she had to rub elbows with all night, she understood them.

She'd grown up in this life while you...well, you were an outsider. Someone who didn't fit in, no matter how many expensive outfits the young CEO bought you or how many people she argued with.

The only thing you two could agree on was that the best part of these events was the free alcohol.

"How long have you been out here?" Kate asks as she joins you, her side pressing against yours and giving away how tipsy she already is.

"Like twenty minutes," you reply. "It was getting too stuffy in there."

She laughs and you allow yourself to admire her jawline and the way the city lights bounce across her skin. "Tell me about it. I swear I've had the same conversation with everyone."

"I don't know why you still bother coming to these things."

"It's good for the company, I guess," she says with a shrug. "And it gives me an excuse to get dressed up with you."

You roll your eyes at her, hating the way your heart instantly skips a beat at her words. She always gets extra flirty when she drinks. If you were more of an optimist, you might even believe her words had some sort of truth to them. 

"You're an idiot."

She makes a face at you, her features a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "You always say that."

"Because it's true," you say.

"Whatever," she huffs.

The two of you stand there for a few minutes, basking in the closeness of your bodies. It's a small thing, but it's moments like these that remind you just how deep your feelings for the archer run.

The buzz from the alcohol in your system leads you to rest your head on her shoulder without a second thought. Her arm wraps around you in an instant and it's not until that moment that you realize how cold you are.

"Can we leave yet?" You ask in a soft voice. It's a little embarrassing how desperate you are to be away from the bustling party.

"Almost," she replies. "I think you owe me a dance."

You groan, already dreading the looks you'll definitely get. "Do we have to?"

"Yes, we do." She gives your side an affectionate squeeze before pulling away from you. "Just one dance, and then we can leave."

You know better than to trust her words, but you can't pretend dancing with her doesn't sound nice. Clearly, Kate isn't the only one with lowered inhibitions right now.

"Fine," you roll your eyes but reach out for her hand.

Her fingers interlock with yours, and she leads the way to the makeshift dance floor. Thankfully, most people seem too busy in their own conversations to pay attention to the dancing couples...and you and Kate.

It fills you with more bitterness than you'd like, but you try not to dwell on it. It's easier said than done...until her hands land on your waist and pull you close to her. 

"You can come closer, sweetheart, I don't bite."

A nervous laugh escapes you. Mainly because you've listened to enough of her superhero stories to know for a fact she does bite, but also because getting closer to her is the last thing you should do right now.

She makes it far too easy to do, though, so you give in and wrap your arms around her neck.

The two of you start swaying to the soft music being played by the small group of musicians at the front of the room. It's hard not to spend the entire time admiring her features from this distance and as much as you try to ignore it, it's impossible to deny the way your heart flutters in your chest every time you make eye contact with her.

Your silence seems to surprise her, considering the way her eyebrows furrow together. "You okay?"

You nod and try to ignore how close your faces are. "Yeah, just...thinking."

That seems to get her attention and her concerned look turns into a slightly mischievous smile. "Oh yeah? About what?"

"Wouldn't you love to know?" You reply, hoping your attempt at teasing her will help distract her.

It doesn't work and instead of moving on, she wordlessly pulls you closer, her smile turning into a smirk when your eyes widen from the sudden proximity. "Come on, sweetheart, don't get shy on me now."

"You're annoying."

"Is that why you've been staring at my lips this whole time?"

Her words catch you off-guard, but they're not exactly far-fetched. The alcohol in your system mixed with having her so close only equals a long list of bad ideas. You can't deny how enticing those ideas sound, though.

You somehow manage to find your voice long enough to throw her observation back at her. "I think you're projecting, Katie."

"So you don't want to kiss me?"

She's toying with you, you know she is because you've seen her do it countless times, but you can't find it in yourself to really care. You know you shouldn't do it. You try to remind yourself that you're both drunk and simply trying to rile each other up for fun.

That no matter what happens, it won't mean anything. At least, not to her.

The longer you think about it, though, the less the potential consequences matter to you.

"I do," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "But only because it's the only way to shut you up."

You expect her to laugh at you and change the topic, but, of course, she doesn't. Because the only thing Kate loves more than annoying you is taking you by surprise.

In an instant, she closes the distance between your faces, her lips meeting yours in a borderline hesitant kiss. You're certain you've never seen her so nervous before. It's strange but endearing.

More than that, it helps distract you from how nervous you are.

She pulls away from you with a smile so bright that it makes your mind swim. "I guess you were right, kissing me does shut me up."

"Is that your way of trying to convince me to kiss you again?" You ask, doing your best to act nonchalant.

You're not sure that it works very well, but thankfully, she makes no teasing comments about it. She simply steals all your thoughts away by kissing you again.

The fact that you're one step away from fully making out in the middle of the dance floor isn't lost on you. Kate seems to come to the same realization as you at that moment and she reluctantly pulls away from you just to grab your hand and lead you away from everyone's gaze.

You don't know where exactly she's taking you, you just know it's definitely not toward the exit. You'd love to call her out on it and act upset and yet...you don't. How can you when your curiosity is practically eating you alive?

She drags you into the first storage closet she finds, closing the door behind you and pushing you against it. The action steals your breath away, along with the rest of your coherent thoughts.

You weren't going to act like you'd never fantasized about doing this with Kate but you'd always imagined it would happen under different circumstances. Although, if you're completely honest, you can't say you're actually mad about it.

"Hi," you whisper, your eyes drifting down to her lips once more.

"Hey." Her hands find their way back to your waist as she steps forward, effectively trapping you against the door. "Are you...still okay with this? 'Cause we can just leave and act like nothing happened."

You appreciate her thoughtful words even though the fire she started within you is burning far too bright to be put out now. 

"Yeah, I'm okay," you assure her. "I don't think stopping is an option now."

Your words seem to make her hesitation disappear and her smirk instantly makes a comeback. "And why is that, darling?"

"You know why."

Kate leans in closer, one of her hands drifting down to grip your leg and lift it up until it's wrapped around her waist. "Maybe...but I want to hear you say it."

"In your dreams, sweetheart."

You feel incredibly proud of yourself until the archer pushes herself against you, creating the most wonderful friction against your center. The movement catches you off-guard and you let out an embarrassingly desperate moan at the feeling.

The brunette takes advantage of the moment and ducks down to attach her lips to your neck. "I would love to put you in your place but you are far too adorable like this."

Your head tilts back to give her more access to your skin as you struggle to put yourself together long enough to reply to her words. "I wouldn't describe this as adorable."

She chuckles against your skin, the feeling of her warm breath sending ripples of pleasure down your spine. You almost can't believe this is actually happening. For a second, you briefly wonder if you're simply dreaming.

There's no way the pressure of her body against yours isn't real, though. No way for the pleasure you're experiencing to be completely made up by you.

The hand still on your waist gives you a soft squeeze before she guides you against her. There's something slightly humiliating about grinding against her in some random, badly lit, storage closet that only adds to the intensity of the moment.

Kate seems to read your mind considering the way she moves against you, drawing out another barely supressed moan. "You're holding back, y/n/n."

Her teasing words only make you want to tease her right back. Just because you've wanted her like this for a long time doesn't mean you want to make things easy for her. Riling her up is always more fun anyway.

"Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are," you reply, hoping she won't call you out for grinding against her so desperately. 

She has no plan to make things easy on you, though, and as annoying as it is, it's also incredibly attractive. "That's not what your body is saying." 

"How can you be such a dork at a time like this?" 

"It's my talent." 

"Keep telling yourself that." 

She groans, out of annoyance rather than pleasure, but you know your slight defiance is a turn on for her. It's almost funny how someone so bratty gets such a rush out of putting other brats in their place. "I hope you know your attitude is going to cost you later." 

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Katie." 

Her hand finally makes its way up your thigh, and she cups your heated core in one quick move. "How am I the annoying one?" 

You let out a sharp gasp, your hips rocking against her hand with zero shame or hesitation. You're already so close to falling apart, the coil in your stomach embarrassingly close to snapping already. In your defense, it's been a long time since your last hookup. 

"Not so mouthy now, are you, sweetheart?" Her amusement is more than clear and, even though you'd love nothing more than to wipe the smirk off her face, you're a little preoccupied with the mounting pleasure. 

"Kate..." You whimper, attempting to pull her impossibly closer to you. "Fuck."

Her teasing energy is quickly replaced by satisfaction. Satisfaction that motivates her to speed up her movements, effectively replacing all your thoughts with the feeling of her hands on you.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" She asks, her lips trailing a path from your neck to your jaw.

"Yeah," you reply, your voice a breathless, needy, whisper. "...please."

"Such a good girl. Go on, let me hear you fall apart for me."

Her words are exactly what you need to let go. It's a little embarrassing, and the lack of full contact makes it a little less satisfying than you'd like, but your orgasm crashes into you almost instantly. Your hands grip onto her shoulders as you ride out the waves, her soft whispers guiding you through the overwhelming sensations.

You're shaking and panting and absolutely spent after such a rush of emotions and Kate is right there, holding you close through it all. Somehow, the affection and care she's showing you feels even better than the orgasm you just had.

"You okay, baby?" She asks as she leans back just enough so your eyes can meet again.

You nod, still too shaken to find your voice. 

"You're too cute." 

Despite your breathlessness, she gives you a quick kiss, pouring far too many feelings neither of you want to think about right now into it. The alcohol must be draining from your system because you're already starting to freak out about this.

About how difficult it'll be to act like nothing happened. Like you're not completely in love with your best friend.

There's no way for you to deny it now. Hell, Kate herself can't deny it anymore either.

And yet you both try.

"Do you want to go back to my apartment?" She asks once you're able to pull away from each other.

The intention is behind her words is more than clear and it somehow manages to bring your confidence back. "Only if you let me repay the favor."

"I think we can definitely work something out," she replies with a genuine smile.

That's all you need to take her hand and drag her out of the storage closet. Her laugh rings out in your ears as you make your way to the exit.

True to your word, you spend the rest of the night returning the favor and drawing orgasm after orgasm out of Kate. It's not enough to make you believe you'll be together the way you want to and yet it's more than enough for ythe moment. 

It's more than you ever thought you'd get from her.

Unfortunately, morning comes too quickly and it brings the realization that you severely underestimated how much things would change. How quick Kate would be to sweep everything under the rug and deny it even happened.

It hurts but it's not a complete surprise considering the way the archer reacts to most things.

You manage to work through it, silencing your desires in favor of making her comfortable and keeping her in your life. It's not the healthiest thing in the world but you manage.

Your friendship only suffers for a few days before you're back to normal. No one would even notice anything if it weren't for the major heart eyes you throw her way all the time.

Everyone knows, though. Everyone cares except Kate.

Instead of talking about it like a normal person, she decides to make things worse by getting a girlfriend. You don't even know who she is and the archer doesn't give you any real details, she just mumbles something about a coffee shop and a cute dog.

You've never known Kate to be particularly reserved but she is this time. Not just that, she actively ignores you. Dodging your questions expertly and pretending there's nothing weird about how little time she spends with you.

You had always assumed it would be your feelings that ruined your friendship but Kate managed to ruin everything on her own. It's almost a skill.

Somehow, even as your heart breaks and endless questions swim around your mind, you manage to keep going. More than that, you match Kate's energy and pretend you don't even notice the change in her attitude. You're not sure who's more hurt by that but you don't even care.

You treasure the brief moments you get with her and mentally shout at her every time she cancels another movie night. Her excuses are endless. One day, she tells you she's too busy with Avengers work, the next she's too caught up with Bishop Securities.

The only thing that brings you some sense of comfort is the fact you're not the only one being lied to. Her so-called "girlfriend" gets the same excuses as you, at least that's what Yelena tells you. The Russian has no reason to lie, though, so you believe her and ignore the rising thought of making Kate jealous.

That's the only thing you're able to do: ignore Kate and the feelings you still have for her.

It works for a while...until the archer finds her way back to you.

It's the middle of the night when you hear frantic knocking on your door. You suppress your fear long enough to make it to the door, baseball bat in hand.

You open the door and come face to face with those same blue eyes you've tried not to think about for over a month. "Kate?"

"Hey," she mumbles, nervousness instantly creeping into her voice. "I, um...can I come in?"

You're tempted to say no and slam the door in her face. You're honestly half-way to doing it when you notice the way she's swaying and clutching her side."You're not drunk, are you?" You question.

Your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat but she smiles anyway. "No, I'm unfortunately sober."

You hum in response before stepping aside and letting her come in. There's a voice in the back of your head that warns you not to get caught up in the past. To keep your distance until she, at the very least, apologizes for being such a jerk to you.

Kate manages to make it to your couch without tripping while you lock your door and put the baseball bat back in its usual place. You brace yourself for the uncomfortable conversation that's bound to follow as you follow after her.

"So...what happened to you?"

Her only response for a few moments is a groan and you do your best to stifle your laughter. For someone who's the human embodiment of a golden retriever, she looks a lot like a grumpy cat right now.

"Stupid mission," she grumbles while attempting to stretch her sore muscles. "I don't know where someone can get the money for that many henchmen."

"Says the rich girl," you reply with a smirk.Kate rolls her eyes but some of the tension in her shoulders disappears. 

"Oh, shut up."

Your cross your arms over your chest before raising an eyebrow at her. "I don't think you're in any position to talk to me like that."

A barely noticeable blush spreads across her features. "Sorry," she mumbles. "I just...I've missed talking to you like this."

You wish it didn't but your heart skips a beat at her words. It's stupid considering the fact she's the one who put you guys in this situation yet there's nothing you can do about it. Your heart still belongs to her.

"Is that why you've been ignoring me lately?" You ask, unable to keep the bitterness out of your tone. "Why are you even here, anyway? I'm sure your girlfriend's worried about you."

Your words cause the smallest of changes in Kate's body language. She hunches down almost as if she's trying to sink into herself and disappear. You've seen her like this far too many times to not know how she's feeling.

"She would be if she didn't hate my guts right about now," she replies with a sigh. "Can't say I blame her, breaking up with her and leaving on a mission isn't the most mature thing to do."

"Wow, you're finally self-aware," you tease her, more out of habit that anything else. "A lot can change in a month, huh?"

The lack of annoyance in your tone allows her to relax again. As much as you might like to be petty, she seems genuinely sorry and upset. "Okay, I deserve that. I've been an asshole to you."

"Yes, you have, but it looks like karma finally caught up with you."

There's an edge of concern to your words that you can't quite hide. She doesn't seem to be in excruciating pain which hopefully means she's not badly hurt but with how stubborn she is, you wouldn't be surprised if she was blatantly hiding a gunshot wound.

Kate chuckles as she leans back against your couch, the movement allows you to search her suit for bloodstains and, thankfully, you find nothing except a couple of tears in the fabric. "Karma's a bitch..but I probably deserved it."

"Probably?" You ask.

"Okay, fine," she grumbles. "I definitely deserved it. It just...seemed like the right thing to do."

You can't hold back the scoff that leaves your lips. "On what Earth was ignoring me after hooking up with me "the right thing to do"?"

She grimaces, the words hitting her a little too hard. You feel a little bad for her even though these are simply the consequences of her own actions. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship. I didn't...I don't want to lose you, y/n. You mean too much to me."

A part of you wants to keep being petty about the whole thing but you've missed her far too much to push her away now. Even though she probably deserves it for being such an idiot.

"You have a very weird way of showing it." You finally allow yourself to close the distance between you two, walking over and taking a seat next to her.

Kate's hand instantly finds its way into yours, her head turning to look at you. There's a thin layer of tears in her eyes that tugs at your heartstrings. "I know...and I really am sorry."

"I know," you reply, giving her hand a soft squeeze. "You're my best friend, Kate, I've always known you're an idiot."

She rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything more, allowing a comfortable silence to fill the room.

There's a lot more you both still want to say and yet neither of you makes any attempt at breaking the moment. It's almost comforting how quickly you fall back together like two slightly damaged magnets.

Finally, after minutes go by, Kate allows herself to tell you the truth.

"It's you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's always been you and I'm so sorry I tried to pretend it wasn't true."

Her words bring a wave of relief, and a slight bit of annoyance that you do your best to supress. "Can you just shut up and kiss me before I kick you out?"

She laughs, a real one this time, before leaning forward and stealing your breath with a kiss.

It's not enough to fix all the damage but it's a start. And you're more than happy to flip the page with her.

[boomboom-tanjiro2019]

Easy

PT. 1 EX! READER X EX! ACE

Description: Angst but also ridiculous-extra stupid-shit. Reader does some wrong but so will Ace. HAPPY ENDING (No one dies and everyone gets what they need in the end) MODERN AU!!

WORD COUNT: 3680

Prologue

“And you are sure you are getting the promotion today?” Nami raised an eyebrow over to you. 

You roll your eyes, “Psh… Nami, you realize who I am right? Cecil adores me, and we already know she’s going to retire. I think she’s calling me in the office because she’s retiring even earlier than accepted, I mean, she’s old as shit.”

“Ugh… she lectured me on how girls her age didn’t wear skirts as short as mine when they were my age… it was below my knee, Y/N. AND I’m not even in the marketing department, I’m in finance, why was she even concerned about me?!”

“Well… when I am Chief of Marketing to take her place, I will instead encourage you to wear sexy outfits, Nami.” You wink exaggeratedly.

Nami smiles and shakes her head, “Flattering, but HR might not find that as entertaining as we do.”

“Oh yeah that’s not good.” You pause and fake sigh, “Our love will have to be hidden.”

Nami sheds a fake tear, “We are like the platonic Romeo and Juliet… you know… without the death… and pedophilia…”

“A shame I think it would add drama and spice … the death part- not the pedophilia, obviously.” You sigh and place a hand on Nami’s shoulder, “We are unintentionally HR’s worst nightmare I think.”

She shrugs, “Jinbei will understand.”

You stop at a large entrance with two tall engraved wooden doors with shiny golden knobs, a small white and black houndstooth placemat in front of the door, looking out of place compared to the modern marble floor, white walls, and bold furniture and paintings along the rest of the hallway. You had felt the peculiar feeling of walking through those doors a million times before, it was like time traveling back 50 years. How Cecil, a woman who had seen the dinosaurs and who did not bear the resolve to advance her views further than the 1700s became Chief of MARKETING for a RESORT company? Well nobody was exactly sure, by all means it made no sense. Cecil liked you because you sucked up to her, but made sure the company still advanced by undermining just about every request she had. In fact you were sure if Cecil were left to her own devices, Sabo and the folks in the law department would be drowning in lawsuits. 

You turn back to Nami one last time, “My outfit look modest enough?”

Nami nodded, “I can’t wait for you to be able to wear clothes that fit. I’ve seen your actual closet…” She raked your body up and down, making sure to focus on the bland gray and horrid shoes. “...This is a crime in comparison. 

“Great. Wish me luck.” You raise up your hand for a high five, to which Nami immediately reciprocates, before stomping off in her purple skirt and blouse with beautiful jewelry that might have given Cecil a heart attack had she seen it. 

You knock on the door, “Chief Brookes?”

“Come in!” Her scraggly voice calls out.

You open the door and step through, careful to shut the door and resist walking down the horrifically long, green brown rug Cecil used to guide a pathway to her desk. 

“Ah. Y/N.” She gives a smile. Though she was around 68, she looked more to be in her mid-fifties. Absolutely gorgeous woman with a smile that makes you feel safe. That is, until she cuts into you with jabs about your work and overall appearance. Not only that, but so terrible at her job that higher management has been waiting for her to retire. They have come to the conclusion that waiting for her to either kick it or retire in an eccentric manner is better than having to fire her. “My favorite protege.”

Only protege. No part of Cecil Brooke’s favor towards you was accidental. Though part of you had to admire Cecil’s spite and lack of tact. Your admiration might be deeper had she actually been good at her job. “Hello Mrs. Brookes.” You carefully walk up to her desk with a polite smile. 

She smiles wider, “You know I’d rather you call me Cecil.” She lies. She enjoys the hierarchy culture. “Sit sit!”

You carefully pull out the chair and sit down. Making a show of laying your hands down in your lap gently, a stark contrast from the person your team has seen these last few years, “Can I ask what you called me in for?"

Cecil nods and her expression hardens. She grabs a tissue box from across her desk and places it in between you two. “Just in case…”

Good sign.

“I called you in here because… very tragically and very suddenly… I have decided to cut my career short.”

‘If she considers that short, I can only grieve for her husband’s self esteem.’

“What?” You make a point of furrowing your eyebrows, “With all due respect-“ which is none. “-You can’t just quit when the company needs you so desperately.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in. You must be shocked.”

“I’m flabbergasted.”

“It’s tragic, truly.”

“Truly” you nod, slowly shifting your expression from false outrage, to false disbelief, to false sadness. 

“Don’t worry.” She reaches her hand over yours, “I will still be here for 4 weeks. I will teach you everything you need to know…”

‘Even better sign.’

“I am… heavily considering recommending you to take on my position.”

You gasp, “Mrs. Brookes! I couldn’t-“

“You can.” She smiles, “With my guidance over the next few weeks, I believe I can teach you my ways. I will be testing you along the way though. It won’t be easy.”

‘Anything is easier than trying to make our marketing department mediocre at best with you rejecting all of our ideas.‘

“I understand. I am honored to be in your thoughts…”

She puts her hand over her heart, “You just remind me of myself so much.” She sighs, “Well then… I guess that’s it. I will follow up with you later.” She shakes your hand.

You say your goodbyes and walk down the vomit inducing carpet. It would be the first thing to go.

“Y/N? One more thing for tomorrow.”

——————————————————————

You stand near the entrance of one of the interview rooms on the first floor. The one HR usually uses for interviews. Today, it was your interview room, along with Cecil’s if she ever decided to show up. The possible employee would be there in 20 minutes, 10 if they decide to be smart and come off as a try hard. Cecil’s favorite breed of person.

“Y/N?” You hear a familiar voice call out. Sabo. Team 5 leader in the law department, brother of two significant people in your life. Luffy and your ex boyfriend. Though it’s apparent your ex refrained from giving details of the relationship’s end by Sabo’s continued comfortability and friendship with you, though this day it didn’t seem so. “What are… you doing here?” He gives a strained toothy smile.

“Waiting for Cecil so we can start this interview.”

“Right… but… wouldn’t the… team manager the position is under be doing the interview?” He stays smiling, though it gets more and more unsettling as he whips his head around, “Isn’t it supposed to be Yamato doing the interview? Where is heeee?” He laughs in a rather scared manner.

“Change of plans. New employee is under my team until further notice.” You raise an eyebrow at him, “Why?”

“…No reason.” Sabo squeaks out, “Bye now!” Just like that, he is turning the corner on his heel as fast as he can. You hear a thud at one point followed by a curse but you try to ignore it.

Cecil appears from around the corner, dressed like a neon Cruella De’Vil. Her makeup masking her natural olden beauty with a clown color palette. She gives you a curt nod and unlocks the door, expecting you to follow along with her actions wordlessly and fluently. Thank goodness after years of staring her down to copy her mannerisms, this comes easy. You both sit next to each other in the room as Cecil decides to speak her first word of the day, “I will finish my section, then you will speak your peace. I will give you a 50% say in this. Since the new graphic artist will be under your team. Your first test is managing a new employee on top of the new marketi-“ something something something.

You just nod and smile until she is interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by a muffled sound sounding like Sabo’s voice saying ‘you can just open it’ whoever it is decided that this is a great idea and finally turns the knob. You glance down at the paper you realize you have yet to read any of or review at all. Drinking with your girls out of excitement took up valuable time. You hear the sudden stop of steps as you stay glued to the page, determined to at least scan over the resume-

Portgas D. Ace: Grand Line Resort, Graphic Artist job application.

No. No. No. You look up to meet the face you’ve avoided for a good 5 years. Chocolate brown eyes, splatters of freckles, muscled physique, bronze skin…

You can’t read his mind but if you could you are sure it would be the same thought as yours.

Fuck.

———-

“Fuck” A man you assume is Luffy’s brother says as he stares at you. Frozen like a deer in headlights.

He was coming out of the bathroom. Quickly going to grab a towel from the hallway closet in the flat he shared with his brothers. How was he supposed to know one of Luffy’s… hot friends would be here? The one he would eye across the one class he had with you during a professor’s boring lecture?

Your eyes unintentionally drift down as you try to comprehend what you are seeing. You quickly regret it. Your eyes dart up and you try to forget what you’ve already seen.

You two make eye contact for a few seconds before he, still wide eyed, closes the door while you dart down the hallway. You aren’t going to forget that first impression anytime soon.

———— 

You remember your first legitimate sight of Ace, a memory that is not helping you in this situation at all. A different memory seems to be playing in Ace’s head by the look on his face as he takes in your appearance. Looking for changes maybe. 

Ace shakes Cecil’s hand casually, but falters when he reaches you. What is he going to do? Pretend like he doesn’t know you?

“Good afternoon. I’m Ace, last name is Portgas.” He smiles at you but you can read in between the lines. He is as unprepared as you are. 

Though Ace is smiling and behaving semi-normal despite the situation, you are sure your body language and facial expressions convey your true thoughts. You sit there still as a brick as Cecil gestures for him to take a seat. 

He doesn’t look at you. Cecil introduces you at one point but his eyes look almost past you. Cecil doesn’t seem to notice anything off about his demeanor, but you do. He runs his fingers through his hair one to many times, his blinking is way too fast, he leans forward too much, and the arm closest to you isn’t on the table like the other one is. Details you aren’t sure how you remember.

Questions go by, when answering Cecil’s questions he turns to your direction but his eyes stare right past you as he answers. As soon as he turns to you his breathing quickens, his hand clenches and his shoulders tense. All things you notice before he turns back to Cecil to make eye contact with her.

Cecil coughs and turns her head in your direction. You know what for, though you’d rather be anywhere but here. You cross your fingers and hope you and Cecil don’t have the same questions since you were not at all paying attention.

“So, Mr. Portgas, how did you hear about this job?” You tilt your head curiously.

He takes a breath as soon as you speak your first word. He looks like he’s holding onto every word as you speak. “My brother works here… he recommended this position because I have an art major.”

You nod. Sabo must’ve been shaken because of you interviewing and having Ace in your team, “Impressive. And what can you bring to the position?” You squint your eyes skeptically

Ace freezes, “I believe…” he loosens his tie nervously.

You glance at Cecil, who is taking note of his behavior. Cutthroat bitch. Part of you is internally celebrating at the prospect of Ace not being a potential employee, but the other half is begging him to get it together.

“I can bring a new and innovative point of view to the team. Though this is my first legitimate office job and that can be a challenge to adjust to… but I’m not worn down from the job or stuck to the old way of doing things because of it.” It’s a decent answer, though Cecil doesn’t seem to appreciate his response.

You can see Ace is overthinking his answer in his mind, though his proud smirk says otherwise. He wants this done as soon as possible. Quite frankly, so do you. “That’s it for me. Thank you.” You say as quickly as possible.

Ace mumbles, “Thank you.”

Cecil didn’t seem too impressed with that either.

…That’s a good thing, yeah?

Cecil’s lips purse as she stares back at him, “Here at Hiraeth Resort, though our other departments may embrace new innovation, I have been sure to play our cards safely by using the same technique all these years. I’m afraid this might not be what you are looking for out of a job.”

Ace’s eyebrows furrow at her response, quickly scanning over your face, searching for something, a reaction to her words. The disbelief that you had confined yourself to a job like this etched across his features. His eyes linger on the bland gray and the jewelry metal that differed from your usual. You told him to never buy jewelry in that color, “I assure you I will do a great job no matter what your focus is.”

“...” Cecil analyzes his response before waving her hand, “That is it for me, we will get back to you at some point. I’m sure somebody appreciates the time you spent in this interview.”

That one stung.

You see Ace’s jaw clench and his features narrow before he sighs, “Thank you for your time Mrs. Brookes and… Ms. L/N.” He sends you a look of deep rooted betrayal masked by a layer of professionalism and longing. You aren’t sure which part of it is worse. 

He reaches for a handshake from Cecil, which she does not reciprocate. He hesitantly reaches out for yours, hand shaky. He starts to pull back after a second, but you reach out to meet his hand. The handshake is brief, but the shiver the contact brings you is downright embarrassing. 

As soon as that door shuts, Cecil turns to you, “Absolutely not.”

“...Why?” You should probably just nod and agree like you would with anyone else, no matter how qualified you believed they were. Something stops you.

She almost laughs, “He’s a disaster, sure some of his responses were decent… but a new point of view? Creativity? His job is to draw designs for the company mascot and posters! Look at this portfolio. ¼ of it is tattoo designs.”

“Everyone starts somewhere. He has a ton of job experience, it’s not all tattoo designs. He’s done posters and logos for restaurants and other businesses.”

“Ah yes, because a former firefighter will be very helpful in this job field.” She reads off the job list on Ace’s resume.

Hot. “It shows determination and sacrifice.” And it’s hot.

“I just don’t think he’s a good fit for the company.”

You fiddle with your rings, a color you despise, but it is Cecil’s preferred metal. “He has potential, I believe.”

She turns towards you, disbelief in her eyes, “You’re really for this guy?”

If she finds out about you two having dated, a clear conflict of interest, your chances at that promotion fly away.

You slowly nod, “I think he could be helped.”

Cecil scowls before sighing, “4 week paid internship, at the end of my time here, I will decide if he gets the job or not. You are in charge of shaping him to my standards.”

Your breath hitches. 4 weeks of constant… Ace? Nightmare, horrible idea.

“...Yes ma’am. I will not disappoint you.”

She grabs her pen and writes something down, “You best not, your job future is riding on the line as well. Dismissed.”

—------------------------------------

Nami waves you down frantically as you are headed to the local coffee shop after work, a distressed Sabo and Koala next to her. 

Nami gestures for you to sit down, which you reluctantly comply with, death staring at all three of them while they give you nervous smiles. 

“You all knew?” You ask.

They nod.

“So did everyone else…” Sabo cringes, “But we didn’t think he was going to be under your team… so…”

“Right…”

“Listen… We know the situation is.. Rocky… but Ace needs the job… and there has been a lot going on for him. He got fired from the fire station after breaking Teach’s arm because he insulted pops.” Koala adds

Thank god he didn’t put the fire station as a reference.

“So far one person is for his hiring and the other wants him as far away from her and her department as possible.” You comment.

You immediately are met with a mix of pleading, disappointment and very subtle… threats? The last from Sabo, mainly.

“Guys.” 

They continue. “GUYS!” Their attention finally is on you, “I am for hiring Ace, it’s Cecil who is against it”

Nami pauses and looks up at you, “...That checks out… actually.”

“I may not want Ace to be in proximity to me, but I won’t deny him a job. He has 4 weeks of a paid internship before Cecil decides if he gets a permanent job or not. Believe it or not, I defended Ace, no matter how-” You sigh, “... He is.”

—-------------------------

Sabo opens the door to Ace’s apartment, watching for a moment as pots and pans are roughly dropped on the counter as Ace stomps from fridge to cabinet to counter. “What.” Ace roughly lets out, not making eye contact with Sabo.

“...How’d the interview go…?” He awkwardly smiles. Ace whips his head up and scowls, the expression on his face giving all answers, “Right…”

Ace exhales deeply, “As soon as I saw her there I just knew… Why would you even let me go if you knew before that it was happening? Life just adores me, clearly. We break up, then I finally find some peace with my firefighting job, now that’s over and I come face to face with her. Waiting for her judgment, jobless, unworthy like some pathetic…! Ugh…” He rubs his temples, “I didn’t even read the email, I don’t want to deal with it. I should’ve just stayed at the tattoo shop, but I need to make enough to travel and… Jesus.”

Sabo stays silent before quietly glancing at Ace’s computer, pictures of your instagram open. He gives a wide-eyed stare back at Ace, who closes it and tosses it on his couch. Sabo ignores it and continues his thought, “Y/N defended you. Cecil despised you, but she says that you are being given a 4 week paid internship. Cecil- Mrs. Brookes- will decide at the end of it whether you actually get the job…” He gives a smile and a shrug, “Do with that information what you will.”

—--------------------------

Reason One to hate Portgas D. Ace:

He’s uncooperative

You point the camera back at the tall tan man across from you, trying to forget you have seen this aggravating man naked on your first meeting, “You realize we are doing this interview for you guys’ sakes right? All freshman basketball players this year. You’re on the starting lineup, so people are actually looking at you. And all the answers you have given me are inadequate.”

Ace leans back in his chair with a sigh, “I don’t see the point, really. I’m not trying to go to the NBA or anything.”

“Why?” You say, intrigued.

“...I don’t know?”

You throw your hands up, “Oh. My. God!”

“Why are you doing this anyway? Shouldn’t some sports journalism majors be doing this?”

“They all got caught using Chegg on their assignments and sharing answers in a group chat, so now me and some other Marketing students with a journalism minor have to do it.”

“...Oh.”

You groan, “Let’s try this again, why don’t you want to do basketball after college?”

Ace inhales, “...I don’t know… I guess… I mean… I like it, but I mostly do it because of the people on the team. Also it’s too much publicity… worrying about stepping on people’s toes and shit. Doing it professionally just seems… wrong… I don’t really know what I want to do with my life that I’d be good enough at…”

You turn off the camera, it didn’t seem like the type of response that should be recorded. For a split second, there was no camera, there was no mini microphone you had attached to his shirt. There was no 5 foot distance between the couch he was sitting on, his posture now up straight. It was just… you and this guy. Granted it was a guy you had first “met” when he was naked coming out of his bathroom, but still. Just you. Just you and ‘Ace’  “...It’s freshman year, you still have some time.” You shrug.

“...Yeah…”

You shake your head and turn on the camera again, “Uhh… now for the other questions.”

[xdolls-crownx]

I’ve held my tongue for a while now and I just- I just can’t anymore

WHAT IS THIS WOMANS OUTFIT!?

[evansbby]

my opinion on the Blake lively situation

[steampunk-raven]

drawing oki shaperaverse rn and he looks like a freaking Mario character 😭😭😭

[lil-oinks]

my issue with movie peach isn't that she's not feminine because obviously she is, and anyone sensible already knows "she's too feminist" or whatever is dumb. my issue is they made her into every generic cool serious surface-level "strong female character" action girl in a group of all men whose only character trait is "capable" that they've been writing over and over and over for the past ten years. I genuinely feel like they erased any personality she had past her appearance in favor of the single superficial female character type men tend to write when they want to be feminist and "modern." I'm not saying she shouldn't be capable and she shouldn't be cool or fight things because (I love paper mario) those things already are a part of her personality. this point is difficult to make with all of the "they're erasing feminine dainty proper women" takes because that's not what I'm taking about at all. I've seen people say if they wanted a character like this daisy was right there, but I wouldn't switch her character over to this trope either. daisy's LOUD and energetic and fun and the subdued woman whose role is being picking up the men's slack doesn't really fit her either (although I agree the two of them together would balance each other out (and it'd be nice if there were two women and they could interact)). it's exactly what I'd expect from a movie like this so I don't know why I complain, but I wish they would've done her differently. the character mario is about the whimsy but so is peach

[scham-wcan]

Cinder: Snowflake, lean over so I can post a picture of our weekend together

Winter: Absolutely not, this lightning is not complimentary at all, and my hair is disgusting and I have no makeup and I look like a slob

Cinder: Hm? Oh, I already posted it. Look at it! You have the cutest pout in this!

~~~~~

Winter: Cinder? Can I take a selfie of our date together?

Cinder: Only if I can give you a big lipstick mark on your cheek while we take it

Winter: …. But then the lightning will be off. We need to go outside for it then

[alexiroflife]

"first day"

fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off

Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door

to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of

WC: 1,701

Warning(s): none

"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"

"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."

"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.

"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."

"Not at all, actually," you agree.

Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"

"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."

"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.

"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.

"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."

"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.

"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."

"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."

"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.

"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."

Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.

"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"

"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."

"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"

"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."

"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.

"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.

"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.

"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.

"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.

"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.

"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."

"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."

"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."

Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"

"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."

The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."

"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."

Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.

"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."

The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"

"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."

"But-"

"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"

"We done, now?"

"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."

Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.

Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.

He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."

You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."

"I know. I will," he nods.

"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."

"I won't."

"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."

"I'll try."

You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.

"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.

"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"

"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."

"Please do."

Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't speed, Toji."

"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.

"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.

"See ya, doll."

"Bye, mum."

The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.

You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.

You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.

Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.

"Yep."

Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.

Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."

"I'm gonna cry."

The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"

"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."

"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."

"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."

"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."

"You're being for real?"

"Of course I am."

You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."

"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"

"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."

He smirks. "Will do, doll."

[luveline]

YES to luna lovegood/dreamy!reader!!!!!!!!! Can we possibly get one with Spencer? <3

“It’s not as bad as you think.” 

Hotch appreciates the softness of your voice, as someone who also speaks in a very measured tone, but the sound of it has his brow furrowing. You’re a brilliant analyst, and a worse distraction whenever you’re in the main office. 

“It sounds terrible?” 

Hotch peers through the window to get a good look at the scene. You’re sitting in Spencer’s desk chair with your hands stretched out in front of you. Your outfit is very pink, considering the occasion, but it’s a non-abrasive light pink that flatters your skin. You have a clip in your hair, a small silver star with pink jewels embedded along the lines. 

Emily sips at a cup of coffee, leaning against the desk, her face to the side. Hotch can see her perturbed smile. 

“It’s fine! I’ve just been sleeping on the sofa.” 

“Well. That’s a call to pest control.” 

Spencer returns to his desk with a frown and two mugs. “Pest control?” he asks, the mug he places in front of you steaming. 

“There’s a raccoon living in her bedroom.” 

Spencer burns himself on his coffee, swearing as he puts it down hurriedly beside yours. “There’s a what?” Spencer asks. 

“He’s friendly. He came in through my vent.” 

“So friendly he’s stolen your bedroom?” 

You lean back in Spencer’s chair like it’s a La-Z-Boy, blowing at the hot surface of your drink with a similar lazy smile. “Imagine being that little and having such a big bed? When you usually sleep in the garbage?” You give a breathy laugh. “He must be having the time of his life.” 

“How are you getting ready in the mornings?” Spencer asks worriedly. 

“We’re cohabiting.” 

Spencer licks his lips. He likes you, and you seem aware of that fact, and that’s nerve-wracking for everyone involved. 

“Um, maybe we can make him a house? Like, outside? Raccoons are far happier in their natural habitat, and they’re also, you know, highly diseased and contagious compared to humans. I really don’t think you should let him inside.” 

“Spencer,” you say, giving him a dozy grin, “I didn’t let him in. He knows how to get in all by himself.” 

“I’ll call a repairman, too,” Emily says with a groan. 

She walks away, probably to find JJ and get her in on the repairs. Spencer looks at you for a long time, just drinking your tea, and Hotch mentally goads him into making a semblance of a move. Even if it’s just to fix your drooping hair clip. 

“You’re looking at me strangely again,” you say. 

Winces all around. “Am I?” Spencer asks. 

“Yes. Is this about Thursday?” 

“No.” Spencer swallows. “Yes. You didn’t answer my texts, after. I just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?” 

“Yeah. I thought about it a lot, so maybe you did too. Or maybe you didn’t, and it didn’t mean anything.” 

“Of course it meant something, Spencer.” You put down your mug, dusting your knees off before you stand. Spencer is not much taller than you where you’re standing in front of him, but you look up at him anyways. Your face tips ever so slightly to one side. “Would you want to do it again?” you ask softly. 

Spencer looks around the office. He neglects to check Hotch’s window, perhaps because the blinds are more often drawn than not, and so he doesn’t realise Hotch is watching as he draws you in for a kiss. 

You preen and lean back, hands fighting to cup his cheeks, a gauzy, practically gleaming aura around you as you smile into his mouth. Your fingertips tease his hair, and Spencer’s hand settles in place against the small of your back. You kiss back for only a few seconds before you’re laughing.

Spencer moves away quickly, taking your wrists into his hands to pull them away from his face. 

“You give up too fast,” you say. 

“I don’t think this is the place for it.” 

“Well, we can’t do it at my place. What if the raccoon sees?” 

“Good point. How about Marina’s, would that be better? We can get dinner at the same time.” 

Hotch feels oddly proud of Spencer’s suave suggestion, but he also has a migraine brewing between his brows. He really doesn’t need the extra paperwork. 

[drluvsick]

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐬

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie! 📝 gn! reader. btw relationship is mutual pining. would’ve made the headers as the hashira’s plushies but… coloring would’ve been ughhh. maybe i'll post it separately!

word count : 1.6k+

𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

“for me?” he’s surprised before it melts into a smile. with the plushie in hand, he rolls it around feeling the details from his hair to outfit, getting a general view of what it could look like.

“this is very kind of you. i will cherish this for the rest of my life.” he puts a hand on your head, gently petting you as you hug him in return. he’s happy at the action, his large body engulfing yours as he hugs you back. you’re relieved that he’s blind so that he’s not able to see your blush, but with your heart beating unusually fast and loud, you’re sure he can hear it and deduct it himself.

gyomei thinks that perhaps you may hear his heart beating abnormally as well in the moment.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈

he thinks it’s perfect. would’ve added more glitter, but then he thinks that maybe it’s better off that the entire plush isn’t covered in the tiny monsters. (he held the gift for a few seconds and then BAM, glitter EVERYWHERE on his hand)

he loves how flashy the doll is. it seems to shine and sparkle even in the dark of night.

he obviously treats you to a shopping spree or restaurant “date” with him after (after both of you furiously wash your hands from all that glitter).

absolutely takes mini tengen with him when he’s with you. you both brainstorm ideas for him and his little comrade to match outfits (off to the fabric store!).

this small gift secretly makes him scream inside. when he gets home from the interaction, you BET he’s going to be humming the entire rest of the day, unable to sleep because his thoughts are all filled of you.

𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀

so surprised that you would give him a gift. why would you want to waste so much time in giving him something? something you handmade, to be precise? he asks this, and when you reply saying that you just wanted to, he swears he fell harder than before.

he’s beyond happy, though. you get the grace of seeing him unconsciously smile at the present as he notices the attention to details. how much time did you spend looking at him to remember all these features? the thought makes him a little lightheaded.

you’re too sweet to him, he thinks. now whenever he’s feeling down and you’re gone, he holds the little plush to his heart for a small sense of comfort that helps him to live another day. and he doesn’t dare take it on missions or anywhere, really. he’s too afraid to lose or destroy something you worked so hard on to make for him.

god forbid you tell shinobu one day that you made a plushie for giyuu. she’d never let him get away without teasing him for actually getting someone to like him well enough to make something for him.

will subconsciously hide behind you when she does start with the teasing as you softly grasp his haori sleeve, making his heart flutter tenfold at the small action.

𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

(you’ve seen his face without the bandages)

when you hand it to him, he’s on cloud nine. you even made kaburamaru! the snake seems to appreciate it, happily leaving obanai’s shoulders to rest on yours instead.

he practically begs to take you somewhere as thanks and to spoil you, because this gift from you has his face heating up and he wants to draw your attention away from it. and when you do agree (albeit reluctantly), his snake looks at him with a “lmao dude you’re freakin’ whipped”.

while walking, he notices that the bandages on the plushie are removable, asking you if it’s intentional.

“see for yourself,” were your words as he reluctantly removed them. he saw the bottom of the face littered in scars almost identical to the ones underneath his own bandages, with the words on the side of the bandages covering the doll’s face reading: “you’re beautiful, scars or no scars. and from what you’ve shown me, it’s the same on the inside.”

he swears that he could just faint right there and then.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀

“tsk, what is this?”

you smile as he inspects it; watching his lips twitch, fighting the urge to curve upwards. “it’s a plushie of yourself.”

“you made this? for me?”

“yep!”

he looks anywhere but at you, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand as warmth bristles through; his ears turning red as he says, “it’s nice, i guess.”

“just ‘nice’?” you reply back, teasing his quick response. “maybe i should’ve just made a plushie for someone else, liiike… giyuu.” you grin, aware of the facade he’s pulling.

“don’t you dare. it’s amazing, i love it.” he spits out gruffly, but wholly truthful. “…thank you.” he thinly smiles, if not for you observing him you wouldn’t have noticed it.

“aww, you’re welcome!” you snicker.

he turns his head the other way, his face beginning to feel uncomfortably hot.

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎

his plushie literally radiates sunshine, just like the original himself. when he receives it, he shouts the loudest thank you you’re ever going to hear.

talks about all the details and how much it embodies him. he adores it. then he asks if you could make one of you, so that they could be a pair together (AHHHH).

hugs you so tightly that you start to sweat from his body heat. but he means well!

eats with the plushie when you’re not with him. it reminds him of who made it and it just makes his food taste 100x better.

probably keeps it in his pocket and shows it to people like, “look what (y/n) made for me! :D” so that now so many people know who you are.

and when you make that replica of yourself for him? he just can’t get enough of how adorable it is. keeps it with him in his pocket too, it makes his day so much better whenever he sees it because it just radiates you.

𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐈

squeals, she’s just so so so happy. her face turns this cute red and all she can do is just smother you with a hug because of her overwhelming excitement.

she dances around with it at first, screaming about how cute you made it and absolutely loving how you designed the doll to be just like her. you got her into the whole craft business, her new determination to make a doll of you to present to you! she hugs you one last time before rushing off with her new plan.

she quickly realizes that if she gives… whatever she made in her first attempt to you, it’d come across as an insult. so she spends countless days and nights (in between missions, of course) to perfect her gift to her beloved. and when she finally does…

…she gives it to you like a child showing their parent their artwork, except mitsuri’s present was better than just any children’s project.

she’s so giddy when you praise her for it, finally able to collapse from exhaustion when she gets home. but when you kiss her on the forehead, she knows that there’s no way she’s going to get a blink of sleep, especially not when that moment keeps replaying in her head throughout the rest of the day.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐔 𝐊𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐎

she’s calm and collected on the outside, having an emotional breakdown and desperately trying not to just tackle you and hug and kill you with kisses on the inside. her logical mind prevails unfortunately.

she dearly thanks you for the gift with the sweetest soft tint of pink on her face.

she takes it for walks around her estate, visiting patients, and when she needs to calm down. it just takes a few minutes with the plushie in her hands for her to think of you to become more relaxed.

she doesn’t take it in her lab, though— worried that something might happen to it. so instead, during those periods, she keeps it in her room in a secret place that only she knows about, because she’s a little paranoid that something may end up destroying it with all the people in the estate and all.

the next time you’re out on a mission? expect a parcel from her delivered by crow with your favorite (non-perishable) food, some trinkets and items you might enjoy, and a note that vaguely suggests her true feelings towards you.

she secretly prays that you’ll take the hint and ask her out.

𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎

(reader is either same age or muichiro is aged up)

despite his flawed memory/memorizing issues, muichiro does a huge effort to not forget the plushie you gave him.

he’ll write himself notes, bring it with him everywhere, and he finds himself replaying moments with you and daydreaming in his mind more often about you with the doll around.

definitely falls asleep with it gently in his arms, held close to his chest. it helps him fall asleep faster and more comfortably knowing that something resembling your presence was so nearby.

his crow’s definitely jealous by this btw. but she respects you both so she doesn’t lay a claw on the plushie.

one day when you find him hugging the plushie close to him as he was walking around his estate, you decide to go up to him and hug him from behind. let’s just say, he got a lot more clingy after that, hugging the gift at night tighter to try to replicate that warm feeling your hugs always gave him.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

[strangeasexuallegume]

I redesigned the EG Mane Six! I tried to go based of the general design ideas of the originals, though I did deviate where I felt it better suited the characters.

Twilight: For Twilight I mostly went for something that could look decent enough to make up for the fact that she has definitely been wearing it three days in a row. That bitch is NOT taking proper hygiene and you know it. I also wanted to play around with the idea of her struggling to walk no matter what, making her own mobility aids (that are albeit low quality and seriously uncomfortable since she was working with what she had) the first night that she was there, and then at some point Rarity reveals that she purchased and bedazzled a much better and comfier set of aides for Twilight. Other than that, not much else to say.

Fluttershy: Tbh, I don’t have much to say about her other than True Stoner Rights and also I wanted to give her a look that would look nice enough to wear to school without risking being picked on, and also isn’t too outside her comfort zone. The look is based on what I thought as a kid was “Parisian fashion.” I imagine that that Fall Formal dress is actually outside her comfort zone, but she didn’t wanna make Rarity come up with a different outfit and honestly the whole thing was outside her comfort zone so it’s whatever.

Rainbow Dash: I HAD TO FIX IT. RDS IS THE ONLY ONE IM CONSIDERING FIXED BECAUSE THIS IS NOT. MY. GIRL!!!! First off, why did they make her a SOCCER PLAYER??? TRACK IS LITERALLY HER THING SHE WAS BUILT FOR SPEED— I made her a track athlete instead. Second off OH MY GOD THESE OUTFITS ARE SOOOO NOT HER STYLE UGH, I KNOW THAT THESE DESIGNS ARE MOSTLY TO GO WITH THE SAME TREND AS MONSTER HIGH BUT TRJEJSHDJDGSISDRAGH THIS IS NOT RAINBOW DASH!! SAME THING WITH HER FALL FORMAL OUTFIT WHAT IS THIS, THIS ISNT WHAT SHED WEAR TO A PARTY!! UGH!! STUPID!!!!!

AJ: A lot of her outfit was me working on pure nostalgia from when I was a kid in the early 2010’s. (Oh yeah I forgor to mention, I tried to change these designs to fit what I thought would work for 2013. Aside from Twilight, she looks more current to look more out of place) I remembered stuff like the ankle/shin high boots with all the different buckles that I remember adoring, the jeans or shorts that’d have all sorts of pretty embroidery on them, etc. etc. I also wanted to try and make her fall formal dress look more casual, which I figured would work since I’m assuming Fall Formal is sort of like the homecoming of this universe. Overall, hers was one of the most fun to design.

Side note, RD and AJ are making fun of each other’s trademark poses in all of the default pngs

Rarity: She was kinda easy, I don’t have a lot to say about her if I’m being honest. I think she was the one that the designers ate with the most. Even her fall formal dress, there’s not much I wanted to change and was actually kinda stumped for a bit on what to do differently.

Pinkie Pie: she is my Maximalist Kandi Scene Furry Queen. When dying her hair she either did it herself or told the person at whatever salon she went to that she wants to “look like an acid trip.” The non binary flag was made one year after EG first appeared but the genderqueer flag was made in 2011 so Pinkie Pie got True Genderqueer Rights. I couldn’t control myself and gave her straps. She stands out like a bleeding thumb. I love her. By far the most fun design. This was so incredibly self indulgent and I couldn’t be happier.

Edit: forgot to add, I used this pose reference by @albanenechi !

[lovlidollie]

dollie!reader who finds the cutest shirt online !!! it’s pink n pretty with the words on it outlined in sparkly gems, of course she just has to get it !! soon as she places the order (courtesy of rafe’s money obviously) she’s bouncin’ around the place, talking rafe’s ear off about how excited she is to show it off. he simply grumbles ‘n rolls his eyes, muttering a “yeah, yeah, dollface. ‘m sure ‘s perfect.” (he doesn’t really understand fashion — or more specifically her fashion — but he likes to entertain her anyway)

and then the day finally comes, the package is here !!! she’s so excited that she breaks a nail trying to rip the packaging apart, doesn’t even have time to mourn over it because she’s finally got the soft top in her hands. it’s even better than she could have ever dreamed off !! she’s running up the stairs, tiny kitten heels clicking loudly, excited giggles reverberating across the house. she’s ripping off the the outfit she already has on, a cute sleeveless cami ‘n skirt combo, before pulling the new shirt on, immediately squealing with delight ‘n prancing off to show rafe.

“look, look ray! took ages but it’s finally here, isn’t it so adorable?!” rafe’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees it… adorable .. was one way to describe it. in her excitement it seems like dollie somehow managed to buy the top in a size one too small .. maybe even two sizes.. it clings to her like a second skin. the low cut shows off more than enough cleavage, tits pressed together from how tight it is, jiggling lightly every time dollie impatiently moves. his mouth starts salivating when he notices her nipples poking through the material and in all honestly he feels like a perpetually horny teenager again. his lips quirk into one of his signature smirks once he catches what the shirt says; “all tits, no brains ♡"

rafe’s hands slide up her hips, gripping her waist tight, fingertips brushing the hem of the top. there’s a possessive glint in his darkened eyes, voice grittier when he speaks. “mmh — ‘s real adorable, baby. makes my girls look even better, dont’ya think?” he stands up, towering over her frame, grip over her body so strong that she naturally arches into him, glossed lips popping open with a gasp.

“listen uh — this is an inside shirt. y’get me? inside shirt. f’me. f’my eyes only. f’this house only… now how ‘bout you give daddy a spin, hm? wanna see my pretty doll.”

[waitingonher]

because i love you — [hoo boys headcanons]

summary: your "thing" with the hoo boys!

author's note: in honor of the pjo series coming out today,,have this rlly rlly short draft from earlier this year! xoxo

percy jackson — doodling on him

“give me your hand.”

“yes ma’am.”

minutes pass as you doodle gods know what onto percy’s hand. you always resort to this whenever the camp head counselor's meeting begins late—which seems to be every meeting—and giving percy "tattoos" certainly kills time. last meeting, you drew a can of beans and the time before that, was a bouquet of tulips. so honestly his guess being a pair of socks this time isn’t too far of a reach.

“okay, done,” you release his hand, a proud smile gracing your features, “cute right?”

he quirks a brow upon seeing the drawing, “is that…” percy turns his head to the side, gaining better perspective, “is that a flying fish?” 

“wow, you’re good,” you say, giving him a nod of approval, “although, last time you did say that my can of beans looked like a roll of toilet paper…” 

your boyfriend throws his hands in the air, “in my defense, you used a shitty pen so it was hard to tell.” 

“whatever.” 

jason grace — sewing your initials on his clothes

“hi love,” jason says, plopping down beside you on the couch. you give him a bright smile as he places a gentle kiss on your head, “almost done?” 

nodding proudly, you hold up his pair of jeans to show him your work: your initials sewn onto a corner of his back pocket, “yup, just finished actually! what do you think of the color? i think you bought the thread for me on our second date. but i totally forgot i had it until i went digging in my supply box.” 

a grin plasters itself on jason’s face as he nods his head in realization, “i knew the color seemed familiar. i remember wondering why a tiny spool of thread was so expensive. but it’s perfect, i love it,” he kisses your cheek, “all my friends are gonna be so jealous that they don’t have their girlfriends’ initials sewn onto their clothes.” 

you laugh as you imagine jason vehemently bragging about his jeans to all his friends, “tell them i’m charging $50 if they want me to do theirs,” you wink. 

“we’d make more than the stolls’ and their smuggling business if we did that,” he laughs, admiring your work once more. who knew that having your initials on his pants would have such an affect on him, “also, can you do my sweaters and my other jeans?"

you raise a brow, "i might have to start charging you at this point."

leo valdez — impromptu fashion shows

“wow!” you clap enthusiastically, “your outfit even puts paris fashion week outfits to shame!” yes, because a rainbow checkered crop top with a humongous green tutu and a pink boa paired with insanely skinny stilettos beats any and all high fashion runway outfits, “now, leo valdez, can you give us a few words about your new clothing line? and possibly a bit about what it’s like to be so amazingly talented?” you inquire, raising an invisible microphone to his mouth. 

leo oh-so humbly bows and rises with a proud grin, “thank you, thank you, but i honestly must give all credit towards my beautiful muse, y/n, she’s the inspiration behind my new line. and about being so talented, it really is such hard work to be this naturally gifted.”

“ooh, do tell about this ‘y/n.’ i’ve never heard of her but she does sound absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim, keeping up with the act. 

your boyfriend nods firmly, “oh yes, she’s very, very, very beautiful,” adding a playful wink, “but i must say, she has the worst morning breath i’ve ever encountered!” 

your smile drops and you squint your eyes, “i’m going to choke you with that stupid ugly boa if you don’t take that back right now.” 

“uh ma’am,” leo backs up nervously, clutching his boa, “i’m going to have to call security if you threaten me again.” 

"i'm seriously going to kill you."

[luvsupa]

‘SHE’S BUSY.’

tags: roommate! choso x fem!reader, choso has a tongue piercing, smut, ōral (f. receiving), choso is needy at the end, mdni.

a/n: the way this was supposed to be a short hc… w.c: 1.2k

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated 💜

roommate!choso who is madly in love with you but never wants to tell you because he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship you have.

roommate!choso who goes absolutely feral when he sees you dressing up to go on a… date?

“oh,” choso says, defeated, as you mention you’re going on a date with some guy you met through a mutual friend.

“do you think this is fine, cho’?” you ask, giving him a twirl of the dress that nicely hugs your figure. choso gulps at how stunning you look, feeling his heart beat faster.

“yeah, you look really good,” he says, continuing to eye you. oh, how he would treat you much better than that guy.

“i’ll show you the other dress- i can’t decide,” you say, returning to your room and shutting the door to switch between dresses.

roommate!choso who sits patiently in the living room, waiting to see your other outfit. should he make you show up late to the date or—

ding!

choso’s attention shifts to your phone that lit up twice. he wants to look so badly at the text but doesn’t want to invade your privacy, but—

ding!

choso looks around his surroundings as he picks up your phone to see the texts. he feels even more upset when he sees you saved the guy’s contact name as ‘j♡.’

‘ima call u’

just as choso finishes reading the message, you get an incoming call from him, and choso nearly panics. but he starts thinking about how badly he wants you to himself. he answers.

“hey beautiful, i—”

“sorry bro, she’s busy.” choso calmly says as he ends the call.

roommate!choso who knocks at your door as you’re still getting dressed to break the news to you, telling you that your date was spam calling to the point choso had to answer and said, “he canceled last minute.” you didn’t question choso because you knew you could trust him. little did you know…

roommate!choso who comforts you as you feel sad that he flaked on you. choso prepares a mini movie night, getting your favorite snacks and drinks while playing your all-time favorite movie. he makes sure you’re comfortable as he holds you tight in his arms on the couch as you lay on his chest.

“cho,” you say as he continues to rub your head, almost making you sleepy. he hums, “did you lie about him canceling?” you ask, feeling his heart beat quicken.

“yeah…” he says, not having any excuses as you giggle at his honesty.

“do you have feelings for me—”

“so fuckin’ bad,” he quickly answers as you both rise from your position, looking into his pretty brown eyes. at this point, the movie is just background noise as you two forget about it.

“do you want me?” you purr, and he nods rapidly, already getting up from the couch as he drops to his knees, parting your legs to make room for his broad figure.

you stare down at him as he pulls down your pajama shorts and panties, lifting your hips as he quickly throws them behind him. your legs are spread wide, resting on his shoulders, giving him full access.

choso moans as he sees your pretty cunt, giving your folds soft kisses. he’s about to lose his mind as his filthy dreams finally become reality.

you’re growing impatient as he’s basically teasing you, taking his time when you need him now. you tug at his silky hair, pulling it up to make him look at you. “cho—i need you,” you desperately say, and he feels himself grow hard at your neediness.

he doesn’t waste any more time as he dives into your cunt. your whole body jerks forward when you not only feel his tongue enter you but also the metal piercing on his tongue. the cold ball unexpectedly adds more stimulation, making you squirm as he snakes his arms around your thighs to keep you in place, growling into your cunt.

he brings one of his hands to your achy clit, rubbing tiny circles as you arch your back from the couch, moaning loudly from the double stimulation. it’s so fucking messy as choso loudly slurps your arousal, drool mixed with your juices coating his mouth and chin.

“f-fuck, cho, ’s too much,” you shakily say as he pulls away, arousal dripping from his chin as he looks up at you, his expression drunk on you. you unconsciously buck your hips closer to his face, wanting more as he chuckles darkly at your desperation.

he stares at your wet heat and slaps your cunt. your body jolts at the feeling as he repeatedly does it, hypnotized by the way your hole clenches at nothing. choso is starting to lose all sanity as your juices splatter all over his face and the couch. oh, how filthy this was.

“so fuckin’ good, baby, y-you’re so good,” he whines as he lays his tongue flat on your clit, your mind buzzing at the cold metallic ball. choso sucks hard on your clit, the piercing making you cry out in pleasure as it drives you to ecstasy. he slips two fingers deep into your pussy, knuckles deep as he curls them, thrusting in and out, loud squelches of your sloppy cunt echoing in your ears.

you’re already dumb from the intense simulation—the metal ball, his long fingers, his tongue. oh, how he loves your facial expression.

your legs begins to shake uncontrollably, feeling intense waves of your orgasm approaching rapidly as you shudder at the foreign feeling.

“‘m so c-close, cho,” you sob, tears streaming down your face as choso sucks harder at your clit. at this point, he doesn’t hear anything you say—he’s so caught up in his own head, only wanting to pleasure you, forgetting about his raging hard-on pulsating within his briefs.

your orgasm comes intensely as you feel yourself gushing arousal all over his face and the couch. your legs shake rapidly as you continuously spray his face. your vision is blurred as tears flood your eyes, crying out as your climax takes over you.

choso, on the other hand, kneels there, face covered in your cum, everything messy and lewd as his face and your cunt glisten in your arousal. fuckkkk, he thinks as he loses his mind.

“f-fuck, you’re a squirter,” choso moans as he watches your cum dribble down, leaving a pool of your mess soaking into the couch. “mmh, my pretty boy,” you manage to say as you bring a hand to pet his damp messy hair. but choso cannot seem to take his eyes off your sloppy cunt.

after a short tug, he finally looks up at you, quickly rising and smashing his lips onto yours, twirling his tongue around yours as you wrap your legs around his body, grinding his bulge against your bare cunt. you moan into his mouth at the friction, messily making out, tasting yourself on his tongue, your arousal from his face smothering onto yours.

“mhm, i-i’m your pretty boy,” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, looking at you, his face hazy from eating you out. “c-call me your pretty boy again,” he whines, blushing at the thought of being yours.

“my pretty boy—”

you’re interrupted as you hear your phone loudly ring and vibrate beside you. you both groan at the caller id: ‘j♡.’

roommate!choso who sends ‘j♡’ a selfie of both your fucked-out expressions, followed by text,

‘i told u she was busy.’

[nightingale-prompts]

Deathday Party

Part of this post series > link

Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.

Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.

But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.

Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.

Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."

Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.

Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.

Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.

The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.

"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.

"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.

Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.

Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.

From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.

Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.

That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.

"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.

"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.

It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.

Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.

"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.

"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."

"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.

Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.

"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.

Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.

Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.

A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.

"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."

None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.

"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.

"He's my-"

"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."

After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.

"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.

Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.

"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.

"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."

Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.

Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.

[nereidprinc3ss]

weber's law

in which spencer reid comforts fem!reader when she's having a panic attack at the rossi mansion

fluff warnings/tags: panic attack lol, spencer is really cute and sweet my little perfect cutie pie angel baby, classic spencer info dumps bc they're pretty much his love language, established relationship, cheesy and sweet at the end a/n: this one is for my queens with panic disorders who are triggered by literally nothing and everything i see you have this ilysm

When Spencer had invited you to a small get-together at Rossi’s, you’d imagined a small get-together at Rossi’s. 

And maybe that makes you a complete idiot. 

Or maybe Spencer is just so used to FBI work functions that to him, this really is small.

But now you’re sitting on an expensive couch in a very nice house, and you’re surrounded by FBI agents who are all milling around and talking and laughing, and you’re worried maybe your outfit doesn’t look as nice on you as you’d thought it did, and you keep having very vivid visions of spilling your drink all over a furry throw rug that probably costs more than your rent does. 

Music that could reasonably be considered relaxing or at the very least not objectionable plays over the sound system throughout the whole house and thus is inescapable—not that you’d get up from the couch even if you could, because Spencer is sitting to your right and he has his hand on your thigh and it’s the only thing that has until this point been keeping you from a full blown panic attack.

Maybe that makes you a complete idiot, too.

Regardless, you try to focus on nothing but the weight of his hand as it travels slowly up and down from knee to hip over the jeans you’re not so sure about, and the feeling of your breath coming and going, as slow as you can possibly summon it without passing out. 

Spencer is laughing at something JJ is saying as she stands next to the couch with Will and you really like JJ but her voice seems so loud right now, and nothing is going particularly wrong but everything feels so, so wrong it’s scary. 

All the buzzing tension in your body telling you to run away because you’re unsafe and at the same time locking you into place builds until you have to express it somehow. So you revert to an old habit—bouncing your leg rapidly like a rabbit thumping its foot. It’s not entirely conscious, but it feels better than being completely still. That is, until Spencer’s hand strays inward and cups just above your inner knee, where he begins fanning his thumb back and forth over the fabric. 

“What’s this?” he murmurs, head angled toward you and voice low enough to not draw attention. You force yourself to plant your heel to the ground even though it worsens the feeling of gears crunching in your chest. 

“Nothing. Sorry.”

That gets his attention. 

Because of course it does. He’s always telling you to stop saying sorry so often. 

His tone solidifies, still quiet but committed to this conversation now and no longer the whispery apparition of a quick aside. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I don’t know, it wasn’t—it’s nothing.”

You barely avoid apologizing again. 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, just watches you—and you make the mistake of raising your gaze to meet his. He has that curious, analytical look about him, concern tightening his eyes and knitting his brow. He’s doing that annoying mind-reading thing again, and as soon as he actually sees your eyes, he’s figured you out. 

“Do you want to go outside for a minute? Get some air?”

After examining his face for any clues that he’d rather stay in here, (not that you’d really know what to look for), you nod hesitantly. Spencer mirrors your nod and stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you follow suit after setting your drink on a side table (without spilling.)

JJ is now wrapped up in conversation with another agent and the two of you manage to abscond without attracting unwanted attention, which makes you feel slightly better as Spencer leads you deftly through rooms with high-vaulted ceilings and big windows and heavy, expensive looking oak furniture. It seems like you’ve been wandering through a maze when you arrive to a quieter part of the house and he opens a french door for you—which leads out onto an empty patio. 

A cool breeze immediately sinks into your skin, and your nervous system is so hyper-alert that it gives you chills. Spencer notices the way you shiver and steps closer after closing the door behind him, his hand finding the small of your back immediately. 

“You okay?” he asks, intentionally avoiding impeding your view of the sweeping backyard and the trees beyond. Sometimes focusing on something stationary is less overwhelming, but they’re so tall they seem imposing. Threatening, even. 

But then again, everything feels threatening right now. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Spencer seems unconvinced by your monotone—when you glance over at him he’s still watching you like you’re a puzzle to be solved. 

“Are you sure? You can tell me if you’re not.”

“Why are you so convinced something is wrong?” you laugh, but it comes out too manic. You cross your arms. He looks pointedly at the motion. 

“For starters, that. Often times crossing your arms is a subconscious way of comforting yourself when you feel defensive or threatened. And you could say it’s because you’re cold, but—” he pauses, reaching out to touch your cheek. “I can feel how hot your face is, and you shivered when we came outside even though it’s 71 degrees because your nervous system is overreacting to external stimuli. The leg-bouncing is also often indicative of an activated parasympathetic nervous system. Is me touching you okay?”

Again, you nod—unsure how to deflect when he calls you out so efficiently. 

Spencer’s hand slides down to just beneath your jaw, where he rests two fingers. Each second that passes has him looking progressively more worried. You wish you weren’t quite so catatonic—the fairy lights hanging from the pergola shine through his hair and make him glow so appealingly you want to kiss his cheek. 

“Your heart rate is really high, honey.”

That would be due to the sense of impending doom. Thanks for pointing it out.

But you’ve lost your words, and along with them has gone your sense of humor. All you can manage for a 30 second span is a meaningless shake of your head as you avert your eyes, staring at the sprawling carpet of blue-green grass soaked in night as each blade doubles with your tears. 

“I think I’m dying,” you finally croak.

“Technically, we all are. Very slowly.”

Ah. There’s that social tact he’s so well known for. 

“Spencer.”

“Right,” he kisses your cheek as you stare up at him, affronted, and pulls you into his chest. “Sorry. I was actually trying to be helpful. Changes in brain chemistry and hormonal activity associated with panic attacks change your perception of time and make things feel really fast which can contribute to feelings of anxiety. But in reality time is moving just the same as it always is. One second is always one second. Sometimes remembering that helps me to slow down. Not literally, of course. My gravitational pull isn’t great enough to have any discernible effect on the passage of time.”

You sniff, pressing your cheek to his tie. His words make your head spin, seeing as you hadn't been prepared for a lecture in psychophysics—but it spins in the opposite direction than it had been going previously. It's nice.

“Change your perception of time?”

“Weber’s law of perception. Stimulus sensitivity will increase proportionally with increased stimulus intensity. You’re only perceiving time to be going faster because your cortisol and adrenaline levels are making you hyper-vigilant and sensitive to all the markers of time passing.”

“Like what?”

Spencer hums, the bass of it a comforting resonance against your ear, and strokes your hair unhurriedly. 

“Like… your internal clock. Your body measures time with your heartbeat, so when your heart rate increases, time seems to go faster. Also environmental cues, which lead you to understand that the world is not stagnant and thus is not frozen in time. Like the sound of the wind chimes…” he pauses, long enough for you to realize that indeed, you can hear the gentle, sonorous ringing and tinkling of steel chimes bouncing against each other. “And the wind itself, which is coming all the way from the Gulf of Mexico. Some studies actually suggest that wind direction can affect your energy levels and mood.”

It’s a gentle breeze more than it is full-blown wind. It feels cool against your hot skin. 

Spencer’s hand on the back of your head, still rhythmically smoothing your hair, seems to slow down the passage of time as well. You focus on that, and the sound of the wind chimes and the breeze on your skin for a few minutes, until your breathing and your heart rate slow and soon you regain your footing in the temporal dimension, exactly sure of where you stand on Rossi’s patio and in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“You tricked me into doing a grounding exercise,” you mumble into Spencer’s jacket. 

“I did not trick you,” he defends, voice quiet to match yours. “I just wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

You pull away from him and he lets you, watching on as you sniffle and wipe your tears on your sleeves. 

“Yeah, it did. Thank you.”

For a moment, neither of you speak as you gather yourself. He leads you by the hand to a cushioned hanging bench at the end of the patio, taking a seat next to you and gently rocking the swing. 

“Do you know what triggered that?” Spencer asks, over the gentle creaking sound. You shrug, observing the dance of the fireflies in the grass. 

“Nothing. Sometimes I just feel like everything’s wrong and scary but I didn’t want to tell you and ruin your night.”

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs, pulling you into him with an arm around your shoulder. “You are not ruining my night. I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“But all your friends and coworkers are inside, and you’re out here with me.”

He angles his head down toward you and you look up to meet his eyes, even warmer than the sticky summer night. 

“I am. Do you know why?”

“Because I suck,” you sniffle, more hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you attempt to look away. But Spencer’s not having it. He encourages you to sit up again so you can look at him properly, before wiping tears away gently with his thumb. When he speaks, it’s in soft, soothing tones. 

“No. I’m out here because if all my friends were inside having fun, and you were outside having a panic attack, I would choose you every time.”

You manage a laugh through the crying. 

“I don’t know if that’s healthy.”

“Whether or not it’s healthy is an entirely different discussion,” Spencer smiles wryly, before it melts into something softer and more sincere. “All that matters is that it’s true.”

For a while after that, you simply lay your head on his shoulder. Spencer controls the speed of the swing with his much-longer legs, kissing your head and rubbing your arm as you admire the expanse of Rossi’s lush yard bathed in moonlight and the black silhouette of the forest beyond. 

Eventually, Spencer speaks again, likely to make sure you’re not spiraling alone in your head. 

“Can I tell you an extremely classified secret that I've been trying really hard to keep to myself for three days?” he asks, and the mischievous edge to his voice catches your attention. You hum in assent, already wondering what kind of information Spencer would have a hard time keeping to himself. It could be anything. 

“Anderson is sleeping with Childers from Operational Tech.”

“What?”

Despite not working for the FBI yourself, Spencer and Penelope have you so filled in on the drama that you know exactly why that’s shocking. 

You pick your head up to look at him like do not fuck with me right now. 

His eyes sparkle as he nods.

“Yep.”

“Didn’t you tell me Childers was dating that girl in sex crimes?”

Spencer raises his eyebrows. The corner of his mouth twitches. You gasp. 

“No! What? Does Anderson know?”

“I don’t know. I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“Wait—Anderson told you this?”

“Yeah!” He laughs incredulously at your complete disbelief. “People tell me things! I’m an excellent confidant!”

“If you’re relaying all of this information to me then you’re a terrible confidant,” you chuckle, still watery—but feeling light years better. 

Spencer brushes your hair away from your face fondly, leaning a fraction of an inch closer. 

“You don’t count. Telling you secrets is basically the same as keeping them to myself.”

“Basically,” you tease, angling your head up by a few degrees in invitation. Spencer says nothing, does nothing for a long moment—just studies you with soft eyes, continues stroking your cheek. When he takes too long to kiss you, you get impatient. “I’m still kinda anxious, you know.”

He smiles knowingly.  

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, looking pointedly at his lips. “You should kiss me better.”

“I think that would take more than just one kiss,” he murmurs through a smile, leaning ever closer until your noses are bumping. “I think I would have to devote several hours to that. Maybe even a whole day.”

“How does tomorrow look for you?” 

He’s laughing as he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet and lingering. 

“For you? It’s wide open.”