꧁_kya_꧂

22! this is a MDNI/18+ blog :)

[kyawritesstuff]

❀ welcome!

MASTERLIST ... AO3

requests: open!

my name is kya! i use she/her pronouns and i am giving posting my silly writing on the internet a shot :p this IS and 18+ or minors DNI blog. right now i LOVE writing abt spencer agnew, jschlatt, and charlie slimecicle, but i'll talk abt that in a more organized way below

fandoms + ships/characters

bolded means actively writing/fixated on

smosh

❀ spencer agnew x reader

❀ may write for other smosh folk if requested

misc. youtubers

❀ charlie slimecicle x reader

❀ jschlatt x reader

k-pop demon hunters

❀ polytrix <3

❀ may write other pairings if requested

jujutsu kaisen

❀ satoru gojo x suguru geto

❀ yuuji itadori x megumi fushiguro

❀ nobara kugisaki x maki zen'in

haikyuu!!

❀ shoyo hinata x tobio kageyama

❀ kenma kozume x tetsuro kuroo

❀ may write other pairings if requested, these are my favs <3

avatar the last airbender/the legend of korra

❀ will write for all canon ships (sorry zutara friends)

interests + boundaries

WILL WRITE

❀ sappy, lovey dovey fics

❀ angst with a fluffy resolution

❀ angst with without a fluffy resolution

❀ safe, sane, and consensual smut between adults

❀ pretty much anything as long as it's not on the WON'T WRITE list!!

WON'T WRITE

❀ non-consensual or underage smut of any kind

❀ romanticized abusive or toxic relationships

❀ content containing mention of ED (may write about it, and of course give appropriate trigger warnings, if i feel like it, but please do not request it)

requests

requests: open!

don't be shy to drop a request! i'll do my best to get to them (and notify if i won't be able to), but please follow these guidlines:

❀ do not request anything in my WON'T WRITE list

❀ any smut requests must be about characters/people aged 18+! for example, if i were you were to request haikyuu smut, it must be of post-timeskip characters

❀ you can absolutely send in more than one request at a time, but DON'T repeat requests or send "reminders." i'll get to it when i get to it!

thanks for reading!

[kyawritesstuff]

PIPSQUEAK: CHAPTER FOUR

A VERY SMOSH CHRISTMAS

Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

summary: Spencer notices how Y/N struggles around the holidays with her feelings about herself, being a mother, and wanting to make everything perfect for her daughter. He wants to help in any way he can.

warnings: mention of Y/N's past husband who wasn't supportive, light drinking

word count: 2,119

<- last chapter

Numbers, bills, numbers, bills. Times, prices, times, prices. Normally, you and Penelope can happily get by without the amount of child support you were owed--the head honchos at SMOSH always have another shift for you to work that could be Penny-friendly. The holidays, however, are different. Secret Santa this, office party that, not to mention that you want to make Christmas magical for your little girl.

And, when you add your budding relationship on top of it all, it just becomes too much.

Moments with Spencer, especially this time of year, are always fleeting. A few minutes between shoots, him walking you to your car, sitting together at lunch...every one of them makes your heart pound and your ears warm. He isn’t a HR-frowned-upon, coworker-fling. He is constantly more than that. He shows up when you need him and you do in return. He’s your best friend first.

Well, maybe he’s Penelope's best friend first.

The little girl had turned three in the fall and couldn't get enough of "Spenner." She clings to his leg whenever he is around, seeks his approval in every crayon drawing, and falls asleep so easily in his arms. When registering her for preschool, you, nervously, put Spencer down as an emergency contact after a heart to heart with your boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word never seemed to encompass the person.

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"Hey... can we talk?" you softly ask one of the nights he stays over. It didn't happen often, but he could always tell when you really needed a helping hand.

"Sup?" he says in reply. Cute, you thought as you once again notice how the frequency of his abbreviations always increases as he gets sleepier.

"I... I don't think we should do gifts this year...for each other. I know it's our first Christmas as...whatever this is but..." You steel yourself for what comes next. "But, Penelope comes first." As you whispered the last part, you cast your gaze away. Everyone wanted to come date and save the single mom until they really saw the mom side of her.

He draws you in, lays your head on his chest. "Of course," he whispers. The rumble in his ribcage flutters against your ear and sends warmth throughout you. "Of course Penelope comes first." It isn’t hesitant or said to appease you, it’s his opinion too.

You sigh in a way that triggers him to pull you closer.

"Do...you need some Santa-help?" he quietly asks. Money, as it often is, has always been a topic of discourse between the two of you. You're of the I've been doing this on my own, why not keep chugging that direction mindset while he’s more anything for my girls.

"I don't need help," you softly insist as he takes your hand.

"Just because you both eat three good meals a day doesn't mean you don't need help."

You sigh, again, because you know he’s right.

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After the weeks of December that seemed to drone on and on and on before break, the Smosh Office Party finally arrived. You'd heard it was a hoot and a holler and a half every year, so it's suffice to say you were excited. You're Secret Santa was Angela who recently got herself a Switch. You'd brought her a copy of Animal Crossing: New Horizons that some guy before Spencer had gifted you in hopes of winning you over (spoiler alert: it didn't work). You headed over to place it under the tree with the rest of the gifts. It seemed...surprisingly full.

"Hey, pretty," someone calls from behind you; it can only be one person.

"That doesn't seem like very coworkerly conduct."

"Good thing it's after hours," Spencer says as you finally turn to face him. He has a headband on, which looks illegally hot with his curls, you think, that has a little plant dangling from a curved piece of wire attached to it. You reach up and flick it.

"What's this?"

"Mistletoe, silly."

"Oh, um..." you whisper as you glance around. Everyone's in the kitchen, appetizers just came out, but still, no one knows about the two of you. "Spencer, I..."

"Hey, hey, it's fine." He takes off the headband. "Better?"

"Yes, sorry..."

"No apologies, just partying. Now, what do you want to drink?"

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Gifts had been handed out and everyone was beginning to get tipsy to the point where laughter never ceased. The tree still looks surprisingly full. You were just buzzed enough to sit close to Spencer.

"What are all those for?" you ask bluntly, too tired to be bothered by semantics.

"Wanna go check the name tags?"

You give him a look, but humor him and walk over. You crouch down to read the various tags

To: Penelope

From: Chanse

To: Penelope

From: Court

To: Penelope

From: Angela

To: Penelope

From: Amanda

To: Penelope

From: Ian

To: Penelope

From: Damien

To: Penelope

From: Spencer

There are more gifts and more nametags, but your eyes begin to blur.

"What? I don't..." you mumble as the tears start to come. Amanda kneels beside you.

"We wanted to do something a little special for Penny," she says softly. "Call it a Smoshmas."

"I didn't get anything for your little guy- I-if I had known-"

"Y/N, he's a few months old. He's not gonna remember anyway."

"But Penny," Court starts. "Penny can know and remember how much everyone here at SMOSH loves her."

You stand and turn to face the room. Everyone offers you a warm smile. Chanse and Angela, clinging to each other, seem to be tearing up as well. Spencer gives Amanda a wink; a silent "Mission Success." You're barely able to squeak out a thank you before you're tackled by a group hug.

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Late that night, after the sitter confirmed your daughter was sound asleep, you and Spencer sneak the gifts into your bedroom closet, the pantry, and numerous shelves and cabinets out of Penelope's sight and reach.

"That's all of ‘em?" he asks.

"Yep that's it."

You glance at the clock. It now reads December 23, 12:34.

"You should get home and sleep. You've got that flight home tomorrow," you say softly as he walks you over to the couch where you both plop down.

"I can sleep on the plane."

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Christmas Eve, for all parents, is a mad rush to finish wrapping and placing and decorating, let alone getting tiny kids with the holiday spirits nestled deep in their hearts to bed. Penelope's little twirls of hair, identical to yours, rest in the crook of your elbow.

"But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, 'Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night.'"

You carefully close the book and peek to make sure her eyes are closed and her breath is steady. When you're sure she's asleep, you place the book on top of the other six that it took to get her to sleep and kiss her on the forehead.

Christmas duties begin.

You arrange all the gifts under the tree. You step back and find them ugly. You rearrange. You find them ugly. This process repeats until your phone buzzes in your pajama pocket

Spencer <3

can i come in?

Me

yeah sure

Just a few moments later, the door to your apartment ever so slowly opens to a slightly disheveled Spencer and his luggage.

"What happened to your flight? Are you alright?" you ask as you busy yourself about taking his scarf from him.

"There's extreme weather where the layover is, we wouldn't have been able to land."

"Oh...I'm so sorry, sweetie."

"S'alright. Mind if I do Christmas here?" he asks with a funny tone. It's nearly joking, nearly sarcastic, and gives you the utmost opportunity to turn him away. At the same time, it's soft; he glances at the lit tree.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Yeah, stay."

He smiles and gives you a peck, but his gaze returns to the tree.

"This looks fantastic."

"You think? I've redone it like six times."

"Six or seven times?"

"You are literally twelve years old."

He chuckles and walks over to the fir.

"Well, what's wrong with it?"

"I don't know it's just...what if she hates it?"

"Babe, Penny's gonna be over the moon no matter what. It's Christmas."

"It's stupid, I know," you sigh.

"Well, it's not stupid either. You want it to be perfect for her. Trust me, I do too."

His words make your heart pound. Whenever he talks about Penelope, it seems that he just wants to give her the world. He doesn't want to make her happy to make you happy; he just wants to make her happy.

"It reminds me of when I was nesting," you say as you walk over to the couch and sit down. "I was like, a million months pregnant and running around rearranging the whole house because I thought my newborn was going to hate it and me. How stupid was that?"

"Not stupid at all," he firmly states as he follows you and sits. "Who told you it was stupid?"

You sigh and it's all he needs to hear to know exactly who.

"Y'know, it's normal to nest when you're pregnant and to want Christmas to be the best it can be for your daughter. It's so normal!" he whispers with conviction. It makes you chuckle a bit; his bluntness puts it all in perspective. "I don't know what or who made you think that it's too extra or too much, even though I could guess, but it's perfect. You are perfect."

"Nobody is perfect, Spence."

"I think someone snoozing a few rooms over would beg to differ."

Oh, god, here come the tears again.

"I just..." you sniff. "I don't want her to feel like she's missing out...or feel smothered...or feel bored, or like she's doing too much..."

He holds you and eases your white knuckles away from where they'd been gripping a pillow.

"But I wanna be me, too."

There it is. The struggle, the balancing act of being a mom and being you. Of always needing people to accept the fact that you two were a package deal. Not Y/N and the part that was a bit annoying, that kept her away from nights out and made her feel too moral for everyone else at the table, but Y/N and Penelope.

"Can I be honest?" Spencer whispers in your hair. You give him a small nod. "After your interview, Bailey turned to me and said I couldn't be ogling new recruits like that."

"Haha, very funny."

"No, I'm serious. Y/N, I've loved you since the day I met you."

You both stare into the other's eyes as the weight of the word sinks in. Love.

"You are...you to me. You're Y/N. You are beautiful and smart and so funny. You have a daughter who is the exact same and I love both of you individually."

It does you in. You curl up in his chest and just quietly cry. He holds you tight.

"You are not someone who needs saving," he whispers. "You are strong and perfect just the way you are. I'm honored that you let me make your life just a little better."

"A lot better," you correct.

"Okay, a lot better," he chuckles. You lean up and kiss him, softly, slowly, taking your time. You sit in the lap of the man who helps you and loves you and cares for you, all of you.

"I love you," you whisper when you pull apart, finally returning the words.

He peppers your face with kisses until you laugh.

"Hmm...seems like Santa hasn't taken a bit of his cookies and milk yet," he says with an eyebrow raised and his gaze aimed at the coffee table.

"Would you do the honors?"

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The sun was now high in the sky and Penelope was very focused on her new picture book. She had declared she wanted to read without help. You know there'll be more imagination than reading, but that's not a bad thing.

Spencer comes around the corner from the kitchen with your second cup of coffee this morning, just how you like it. You curl into him and sip from the steaming mug as you watch the light of your life play with the interactive book.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to spend Christmas with your family," you whisper, eyes still on Penelope. "I know it means a lot to you."

You turn to him and he is still smiling fondly at your little girl exploring under the tree.

"I got exactly what I wanted."

thank you all so much for reading! i hope you stay tuned for future chapters. merry christmas, happy holidays, and happy new year!

<- last chapter

taglist: @kaguraaaa @haebragi @sweetcowboycollection @areyoutheregoditsmecelia @mothericraveviolence57 @k-k0129 @breakmeoffapieceofthatkitkat @and-claudia @littlethingsinlife @wnba-but-all-dudes @that-bratz-doll @jrliz6

[kyawritesstuff]

OKAY GUYS

should PIPSQUEAK chapter four come out on christmas or christmas eve?!

which one?

christmas!!

christmas eve!

lemme see results

Voting ended onDec 24, 2025

[kyawritesstuff]

guys if i make a fake text chain and include the screenshots for a story is that cute or cringe… 😬

should i just put it in the normal text block like usual?

[kyawritesstuff]

calling all PIPSQUEAK fans!

hey all! i know it's been a while and i'm so sorry for my absence--i've had tons of stuff going on in life. writers block has been persistent, but we prevail! i am currently writing the fourth chapter of PIPSQUEAK, also known as THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL! i'll be reformatting some things tomorrow to make rereading the first there chapters easier, or you could go about digging through my blog to find them! (i'm in a flow state and cannot leave my draft lol)

once again, thank you all for your patience and i'll see you in the next chapter!

- kya

taglist: @kaguraaaa @haebragi @sweetcowboycollection @areyoutheregoditsmecelia @mothericraveviolence57 @k-k0129 @breakmeoffapieceofthatkitkat @and-claudia @littlethingsinlife @wnba-but-all-dudes @that-bratz-doll @jrliz6

[kyawritesstuff]

hey again! the wonderful @spennininomenon had the idea that i should put some of the asks i wont be answering in a post so others could write them! if the ask has a SFW option as well, i'll probably be answering that portion!

p.s.: if you see your ask and want it taken down, just shoot me a dm and i will gladly take it down! or if you're really committed to being anonymous, js send an ask!

[kyawritesstuff]

hey all! i've been doing a bit of soul searching and i've come to the conclusion that i do not know how to write smut lol. so, if you requested a smutty fic, i'll unfortunately be deleting the ask :(

WITH THAT BEING SAID! i do write for some uncommon niches that i haven't showcased on this blog yet (like deep into the pregnancy tropes cough cough wink wink). i've decided that the fluffy/angsty/SFW world is for me. so ask away in that genre! hope to see you guys soon!

p.s.: i appreciate detailed asks! they give me more to work off of!

[kyawritesstuff]

hi! i love your schlatt fics and was wondering if you could do one similar to “you’d be a great (cat) dad” but with charlie??

i just have a hankering to see how he would be with pregnant reader

thank you!

genuinely this will become a series bc i cannot resist charlie, pregnancy tropes, and charlie and pregnancy tropes

(btw, these chapters will all be/often be lyrics from a song... let's see who can guess it...)

SOMEDAY WE'LL FIND IT

songs about rainbows

Charlie Slimecicle x f!reader

summary: Charlie's never particularly been one to bite his tongue, but he knows when he's asking for a lot. You wonder why people love rainbows so much and why there are so many songs about them.

warnings: open communication between partners that's a bit uncomfortable/awkward lol

word count: 1,588

It's late, after dinner, nearly 9:00. You're dealing with some tedious, annoying task at work that you don't want hanging over your head through the weekend. Especially because you and Charlie were finally getting some decorating done on the new house. For the past five or ten minutes, you've had the pleasant background noise of your husband talking animatedly on the phone with someone, as he often does.

After way too long, you finish up and close your laptop. You look around the smaller, empty office space, the sprawling surface of your desk, still clean of your usual setup, and the boxes piled in the corner, excited for tomorrow. You're especially excited for Charlie to get his office set up so he can stream again. Throughout the move, he's been uploading a bunch of videos he stocked up. However, you miss the soothing sound of his voice as you nap in some comfy spot nearby, waiting for him to go to bed.

"Babe!" he exclaims, bursting through the door with his phone clutched in his hand. He's grinning from ear to ear.

"What's up?" you ask. You're much too tired to match his enthusiasm for no apparent reason (yet).

"You'll never believe what my brother just called to tell me about," he says. When he notices you're too tired to recognize you're supposed to guess at this moment, he just says it flat out. "He's gonna be a dad."

It's quiet and excited in a way you've only seen a few times before. Once was when he was slipping a ring on your finger as he was on one knee, and the other time was when he was doing the same thing, but in a suit, just a few months later.

"Wow, that's amazing," you say, a bit woken up by the revelation. "How far along is she? Did he say?"

"Just two months. They really wanted to tell us, even though it was early."

You nod and give a soft smile. Charlie knows the look well enough to take your hand and bring you to bed. He flicks off the lights quickly, all the lights but one, to take you into his arms under the covers. Sometimes you think he's the bigger cuddler in the relationship. His hands wander around your waist and stomach and thighs. He's not trying to initiate anything, just feeling to know you're there; you've learned the difference at this point.

"Have you thought about it?" he asks softly.

"Hm..?"

There's a long pause. At some point, you think you both might've been sleep-mumbling.

"Y'know... the whole baby thing."

You're suddenly more aware of his hands on your stomach. The gravity of his words makes you want to run, to get up for water, or take a walk. Take a breath, you think. It's just Charlie. Avoiding conflict or things that might become conflict was something you'd been working on--in all honesty, working on it together.

"Is that...is that something you want?" you ask him.

"...yeah," he whispers, almost laughs, and you can hear the smile on his face. "Yeah, I do."

You're quiet for a while.

"Talk to me," he prompts.

"I... Charlie... I don't think I'm ready."

His hand drifts back up to your waist, leaving its post of low on your stomach.

"That is perfectly okay. I know it'd be a lot harder on you than on me."

You nod absently, already somewhere else in your mind. He reaches over to turn off the last light and presses a kiss into the crown of your head, breathing in your shampoo.

"I love you."

"Love you..."

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The whole family had been prepping for this moment. After months of waiting, your nephew was finally here.

You'd been cooking for days, a pastime you enjoy anyway, but this time it had been easily heated dinners in disposable foil trays. It was a gift for the new, soon-to-be-if-not-already exhausted parents. Your heart cringed a bit at all the waste, but you would have died before giving your lovely in-laws another thing to clean on top of a little, loud, squirmy new human.

After an hour or so of driving, Charlie finally puts the car in park in your in-laws' driveway. You grab the food and wait by the front door. Charlie's mom opens and hugs go around.

"Oh my goodness, sweetheart," she addresses you. "You will not believe how cute this little guy is!" Then, murmuring to Charlie and playfully elbowing him, she says, "Don't let her hold him for two long unless you wanna give me another grandbaby."

Right.

For the past seven months, what Charlie said that night has tortured you. Was it really that sudden? Had he been building up the courage? Did his impending unclehood remind him? Stir something in him? How was he able to drop it that easily? Was he angry? Resentful? Upset? Regretting?

"Wanna put the food in the fridge?" he asks. His tone is much too gentle for a simple suggestion.

"Huh?"

"You've got something on your mind," he whispers. "Wanna put the food in the fridge?"

Oh, you think. He's giving me an out.

"Yes, yeah, I'll go do that and uh, catch up in a sec."

He smiles and, now knowing you understood what he meant and aren't having a full-on panic attack, excitedly heads to see his brother, sister-in-law, and nephew.

You take a minute putting away the food, and when you still don't feel ready, you take care of a few dishes sitting in the sink. No one notices your procrastination because they're all upstairs, fawning over the new arrival most likely.

Okay, you say to yourself when the last dish is dry. Let's do this.

You quietly creep up the steps and find the cracked-open door of your in-laws' bedroom. Smiling, hushed voices fill the space. Then you hear it, a little coo or whimper of some sort, so distinctly baby. You peek inside.

No one's leaning over a crib or bassinet or crowding the new mother. No, they're all turned to an armchair in the corner of the room. First, you check your sister-in-law's arms for the baby. Nope. Then your brother-in-law. Nope. Then your mother-in-law. Nope.

Charlie's in the chair. You can hardly see his face because it's so focused on something little in his strong yet soft arms, something a bit squirmy and highly sought after. He holds it--him--so carefully. His full attention is on him. You see his mouth respond or retort or something, but he never looks up, enraptured by the little life in his arms.

"There she is!" whispers your mother-in-law. Busted, you step into the room. Only now does Charlie look up.

You make small talk absentmindedly until, before you know it, you are in the armchair and a bundle of a cocktail of conflicting emotions is placed in your arms.

"Make sure to get his head..." Charlie says softly to you, his eyes flicking from your nephew to your arms to your face before repeating the cycle again. You, like he was before, are enraptured by the little human, but you feel his gaze: not burning, but melting. He's heavier than you would've thought and so warm. His feet kick lightly into the bottom of the swaddle he's in as his tiny lips open and close in his sleep.

Is this what people rave about? Write songs and books and poetry about? Dedicate their lives to? Die for? Live for? Think about when they go to sleep? Dream of? Long for while away?

The moment is all too fleeting. Soon, the tiny guy starts to whimper for some kind of need he is unable to articulate in any other way and you know that it's getting dark. Goodbyes are quick and you're on the road even faster.

The drive is quiet; both you and Charlie stew in the events of the day.

Maybe you get it. You turn onto your street.

Ding!

The photo that pops up when you open your phone is the final nail in the coffin: That same image of Charlie enchanted by your nephew that you saw earlier, however, from a different angle. Here, you can see his smile: brighter and wider than you could've ever fathomed or dreamed.

You want to see him look at your baby's face like that. See him take in everything, which parts look like him, like you. Feel the weight of them in his arms and count their fingers and toes. It hits you like the scent of something you haven't smelled in a decade when you realize it.

"I want that."

You look up and the car's stopped. You're in you're driveway and it's pitch black out.

"What'd you say?" he asks, half because he could barely hear you and the other half because he could hardly believe you. The bones and muscles in your neck feel like they haven't been used in years when you turn to face him. His eyes are misty and you realize your cheeks and chin are wet. You laugh.

"I want a baby."

He's pulling you in in an instant, a hand on the back of your neck and the other on your cheek. You laugh into each other's mouths when the seatbelts hold you back a bit. He presses your foreheads together while he takes hold of your face.

"You want a baby," he whispers.

"I want a baby. We want a baby," you respond, your voice wavering."

"Well, then, let's have a baby."

[kyawritesstuff]

I need Anthony badlyyyy

Please write a needy bf Anthony Padilla

for smosh i only write for spencer romantically! sorry! however i would love to do a friend-fic of sorts for any member!

[kyawritesstuff]

hey guys....

well, whoops. kinda went on an unannounced hiatus there. BUT IM BACK! if you're wondering why i disappeared there's a venty post on my blog from a while back that pretty much sums it up. but now...

PLEASE SEND REQUESTS!!!

smutty requests, angsty requests, fluffy requests, i do it all :DD you can checkout my boundaries but if ur too lazy (bc honestly real) js send the ask and i can decline if needed! they arent too strict. hope to see you guys in my askbox soon!

[kyawritesstuff]

PIPSQUEAK: CHAPTER THREE

WELL, WHATEVER, NEVERMIND.

Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

summary: Spencer rights his wrongs.

warnings: swearing

word count: 673

<- last chapter

Soon enough, the two of them have climbed the steps to your apartment and stand outside Y/N’s door.

“Well, this is me,” she says. “Are you sure I can’t pay for dinner? Or at least help? I mean, you did pay for Steph to come watch Penny, too…”

“Nope, not gonna happen,” he replies. “Tonight was for you. You work so hard every day between Smosh and Penelope and the whole single-parent thing… You deserve a break. Okay?

She opens her mouth to protest but he grabs her shoulders. His hands slide down to her arms and squeeze. “Okay?” he repeats.

“Okay,” she replies. “Seriously though…tonight was…amazing. I can’t think of the last time I felt so…relieved.”

Okay, here we go… he thinks as he inches closer, glancing down at her lips. This is it. I’m really gonna tell her.

“Well, uh…” he clears his throat. “What are friends for?”

A beat.

“Yeah. Thanks, goodnight,” she mumbles as she heads inside. The door closes. He stands there for a moment before heading back down the stairs and to his car. Head empty. Not a thought bouncing around.

He opens the car door and sits down. He gets as far as putting the key in and hearing the engine roar to life before he snaps out of it.

“Holy shit…” he sighs. How did I fuck up that badly?

He’d gotten her a great meal, they talked the whole time, she seemed in a way better mood compared to the rest of the day, and he held her as they walked along the beach and gazed up at the moon.

“And then I said, ‘What are friends for?’ What the hell was I thinking?” he mutters to himself. In a bout of dramatism, he lets his head fall to the steering wheel. It slides slightly, and he jumps when the horn honks.

I gotta go back.

Before he knows it, he’s racing back up the stairs of your apartment, anxiously counting the levels of floors by signs in the stairwell. He’s out of breath by the time he gets to the green, steel sign that says “3,” but he’s done it in record time. He doesn’t waste a second catching his breath before he gets to your door.

His fist is posed to knock before he thinks better of it, knowing that waking up the little pipsqueak will not help him reach his goal.

Me

come to the door Read 10:12

A few more seconds pass than he can stand to bear. Finally, she opens the door: hair damp from a shower, bare-faced, and wearing his hoodie. God, he thinks.

“Spence, what are you-” she’s cut off by him.

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spencer

come to the door

What in the world is he doing? You wonder, but oblige, quickly slipping on his hoodie over your sleep shirt, something you’re not so comfortable wearing in front of your coworker/friend/crush.

“Spence, what are you-”

Before you know it, hands are on your waist; warm hands that can help your daughter to sleep and pick up knocked over pens and ease all your worries. You get pulled closer, into the doorway, in the blink of an eye.

He kisses you.

It’s warm and soft and exciting all at the same time; you’re electric. You get over your initial shock, melting into the kiss. It’s nearly hurried, like neither of you can wait any longer to do so. After a few moments, you both realize the other won’t disappear, and you’re able to slow down.

You can barely breathe after it’s over. Spencer seems to be the same, staring at you and panting slightly.

“I, uh,” he mumbles. “I would say sorry for not asking but…it doesn’t seem like you mind.”

You turn around, an arm still around his neck, to look out for any toddling intruders coming your way. The coast is clear and you pull him impossible closer. You’re about to dive in for another kiss, but you pause for just one second.

“I really fucking don’t.”

thanks so much everyone for reading!

<- last chapter

taglist: @kaguraaaa @haebragi @sweetcowboycollection @areyoutheregoditsmecelia @mothericraveviolence57 @k-k0129 @breakmeoffapieceofthatkitkat @and-claudia @littlethingsinlife @wnba-but-all-dudes

[kyawritesstuff]

I loveee pipsqueek sm it's so well writen <3 can't wait to read more of your things!!

thank you so much! i'm excited to say the chapter three is coming out today! thank you everyone for your patience and support <3

[kyawritesstuff]

i know i have too many drafts but…

jschlatt x k-pop fan!reader headcanons

a/n: stream THIS IS FOR by twice <3

warnings: none, all SFW

❀ made the weirdest face when you put it on for the first time

❀ you pouted and he immediately apologized

❀ has a few songs he really likes, will even put on when you’re not with him. he says it’s stray kids (he finds it “manlier”) but it’s actually the feels by twice

❀ you always have the newest merch/records/cds/etc from your favorite groups because of him

❀ will wait in online queues for you

❀ you two are always arguing over where to go for vacation, you’re team korea and he’s team japan

❀ he always wins but you don’t mind much

❀ you know you’re getting tickets to see your fav group for your birthday bc he is no good at hints

❀ he seems a little too excited…

❀ you open them on your birthday and in the corner it says… VIP PACKAGE in SEOUL

❀ it’s safe to say you freak out

❀ you force him to learn the dances with you and then submit videos of them during “reacting to…” streams

❀ the mods find great joy in humiliating him so they obviously bump your videos to the front of the queue

❀ has his own light stick

❀ “why does it have RGBs better than most keyboards?”

thanks so much for reading!

[gibsongirled]

I KNOW THIS LOVE OF MINE WILL NEVER DIE (AND I LOVE HER) !!

description: schlatt never thought he'd be the type to live in suburbia.

a/n: tell a friend to tell a friend, she's (not) back !! this is very short compared to my other fics sigh. this is also dedicated to my friend castor <3

Schlatt never thought of himself as someone who’d settled down.

He never thought of himself as someone who’d own a white picket fence house in the suburbs, the kind of place where the ice cream truck would barrel down the streets in the middle of the day. He never thought of himself as someone who’d wave to the mailman or make small talk with the neighbors while watering the grass out in the front yard, politely nodding along while they talked about the weather or how fast the kids seemed to be growing up. And he certainly never thought of himself as someone who’d go bowling with a group of dads, nursing a light beer, and talking about bake sales like it was some kind of competitive sport.

Those things had never crossed his mind in all his years of screaming into the microphone and breaking cheap keyboards for views on the internet.

But here he was: waking up before the sun had even risen to pack lunches with small doodles on post-it notes and sticking them to the lids of plastic lunchboxes with quiet satisfaction. Grocery shopping on Saturdays with a folded-up list pulled from his pocket, squinting at the hurried scrawl of his messy handwriting while parked in the middle of the aisle, completely blocking anyone who might need to get through. Running into someone who lived a few houses down and talking with them for ten minutes about nothing in particular, the same way his mom used to stop in the store aisles to chat with old friends when he was a kid.

Now he throws his back out when he’s chasing his daughters around the house, their high-pitched squeals and laughs bouncing off the walls, almost shaking the hung up pictures. He perches patiently on the small princess chair while his daughters take turns painting his nails with clumpy polish, messily applying lipstick that somehow found its way on his cheek, clipping mismatched bows in his hair, and holding up a mirror to show off their masterpiece. He grins until his cheeks ache and pulls them into tight hugs, thanking them for making him feel pretty. He yells in excitement and sweeps his wife into giant bear hugs whenever she walks past, lifting her off the ground as she kicks her legs and laughs, telling him to put her down but making no real effort to escape.

After dinner, he stands beside his wife, drying the dishes that she hands him with the dish towel. He makes small talk about how he volunteered to be a chaperone for the school field trip, how Bob from a few houses down invited them to his potluck next week, and how Ted promised to visit for the holidays. After bedtime stories and the thorough search for monsters inside the closet, under the bed, and behind the door, he tucks the girls in with a kiss on their foreheads, and leaves the door slightly open in case they need him before heading back downstairs.

There’s always a moment—just a breath—where the house feels still and warm, full in a way that’s hard to put into words. He finds some random old song on, something scratchy and familiar, and holds out his hand to her. She rolls her eyes playfully, putting whatever it is that she had in her hands down, and takes his hand, sliding close as he wraps an arm around her waist. They sway slowly in the quiet hum of their home.

And while Schlatt never pictured himself as someone who’d settle down in the suburbs and drive carpool, this was peaceful. This was the calm he didn’t know he needed in his younger years.

In some quiet way that sticks itself in the back of his mind, he was glad this was his life now. And if his younger self could himself now, he’d be confused but he’d be happy.

[kyawritesstuff]

ugh this is just art <3 i'm not a big reposter but i just had to, im obsessed with dad!schlatt

[kyawritesstuff]

Which smosh members do you write for?

hi there! if we're talking romantic fics, just spencer. but, i've been thinking abt doing like platonic fics if that makes sense? like a friends with reader sort of thing. in that case, i'd write for anyone! thanks for the ask and i hope this helps!

[kyawritesstuff]

Hi! I really like your writing, and I was wondering if you could do a story with Spencer, where the reader is pregnant but suffering from anemia, and Spencer’s like really paranoid and protective, maybe she has a fainting spell or just gets really dizzy and Spencer gets super worried.

Again love your blog so much!

hi there! there’s another ask in my inbox that’s the same plot lol so it will be coming! having a little drought of creativity/busy life atm, so i thank you for your (and everyone else’s) patience!

[kyawritesstuff]

YOU'D BE A GOOD (CAT) DAD

JSchlatt x F!Reader

summary: Y/N realizes she's feeling something missing from her life at the moment.

word count: 1,332

warnings: pregnancy scare, mild swearing

You didn't hate that your husband loves going to Japan. Nope. Not one bit.

After you became Mrs. Schlatt nearly four years ago, there have been many, many trips to Japan with just the two of you. A nice hotel in the heart of Tokyo, a historic inn in Kyoto, a beach house in Okinawa, and a little minka just outside of Osaka have been a few of your favorite stays so far. No crying kids to wrangle, just two capable adults. Just how you liked it.

This time around, you were once again in Kyoto: your favorite part of Japan to visit due to your love of history. During the achingly long flight there, you got a notification. Weird, you pondered. I thought I put my phone in airplane mode. As it turns out, you did put your phone on airplane mode. Alas, this little buzz from your phone was from your period tracking app.

Period due in: 1 day! It read, shining too brightly on your eyes for the dark interior of the cabin. Annoying as it was, it wasn't that big of a deal; you had no plans of swimming during a chilly autumn week anyways. After telling your husband, he returns to the hotel the first night with a precautionary drugstore bag full of ibuprofen and pads.

A few days into your trip, while visiting a beautiful shrine, you hear a little voice somewhere in the crowd of tourists, domestic and international alike, say, "Mom?" You expect it to be the first and last time in hear it, but it just keeps going. "Mom? Mommy?" says the little voice, more panicked each and every time. You turn to see a little boy, tiny as could be, standing in the middle of a walkway. His head turns and twists in all directions as eyes begin to go read and his lower lip begins to tremble. You freeze.

Is he lost? you wonder, looking for an adult that might be nearby him, might look similar...

Before you know it, a tall man is crouching to be at his level. To seem less scary, he takes off his Yankees hat and- Wait. What?

You spend the rest of your day at the historical site's support and health center translating. As much as Schlatt hates to admit it, your Japanese is the most fluent in your household.

"Honey, they say we can go. They can handle finding this little guy's mom," you say quietly.

He purses his lips, making that contemplative face that only you get to see. "We're not leavin' him, toots. Look at the poor kid."

How could you say, "No, let's leave this little kid alone," after that? So, for the next hour or so you make small talk with the woman behind the desk in broken Japanese, strongly wishing the boy's mom would be home soon.

"Yeah, that's a zebra. Pretty cool, right?" you hear when the staff member finally turns away to look at something for her work. You glance over to see your husband sitting criss-cross-applesauce in the ground with the little boy, Henry as you've learned.

"Yeah!"

"Do ya like animals?"

"Uhh... yup. I go to the zoo with my dad aaaaallllll the time."

You don't hear the rest of their conversation, much too zoned out too notice. Before you know it, Henry's mom is rushing through the door: a blubbering mess of thank you's and apologies, scooping her son up into her arms. Schlatt notices you staring at him and shoots you one of those smiles that seems too cute on him; the ones he usually reserves for Jambo.

The interaction doesn't stir up my weird feelings as you walk back to your hotel that night. Absolutely none at all.

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It's not until you get home that you realize something's off.

On the late night/early morning flight back home, you'd lost the rock paper scissors battle for the winner of first shower privileges. When you see your husband come out in pajamas, drying his hair, you hustle into the bathroom, excited to wash the airport-feeling off of you.

As you reach into the bathroom closet for a towel, that's when you notice it.

A full, unopened box of pads.

Shit.

"Um... honey?" you call out. He's there in a second, peaking his head in before entering. "Hey, hey, what's happening?" he asks softly. Between how pale you are, the tone in which you'd called for him, and your shaky hands holding the box, he could get a good idea. He's out of the house and driving to the nearest drugstore within minutes.

Waiting is hell, you've decided.

You took two tests and set a three-minute timer for them to process. After putting your phone down on the bathroom counter, Schlatt took you into his arms. No words needed, he just knew.

Now, you sit on the cold tile floor, breathing in the scent of his soap and being a reckless passenger on your own train of thought.

What are we gonna do? I know we want it in general, but... does he want it now? We aren't ready...

"Babe," he says, to no response. "Baby."

You look up.

"It's negative."

"What?"

"The timer went off... both are negative; you're not pregnant."

"Oh... oh, yeah, okay," you say, dazed from the past fifteen minutes of purgatory since you opened the bathroom closet. The air in the house is... awkward to say the least. Silently, the two of you get ready and go to bed. You hope your husband is silent from travel exhaustion and jet lag. But you know that's not it.

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"I know, I know..." you hear your husband coo in the living room as you cook in the kitchen. "Hey, be nice to your brother."

You turn down the heat and creep into the doorway.

"Oh, look at you, you're just perfect... How could anyone not like this little face?"

Schlatt has Jambo cradled in his arms like a baby; the cat is dead asleep, his tongue sticking out as he dozes. The black cat has a paw raised, ready to swipe at his brother at a moment's notice.

"Hey, nuh uh, dude. He's napping."

You stifle a giggle, hoping to keep your cover and keep watching your husband act like this.

"Oh, hey, sweetpea."

Oh well. "Hey," you say quietly in response, still mostly thinking instead of being in the moment.

"Dinner almost ready?"

"Almost. I was just uh... watching the cats."

Schlatt's too enraptured by his kitties to pay any mind to the hesitance in your tone. The only time he would really act like his true self online was when he had a cat in his arms. Off camera, his love for them is even cheesier and cornier. You watch as he cradles Jambo closer, kissing him on the forehead.

It hits you.

As the feeling of realization spreads throughout your body, you're surprised it took you this long. When the words come flying into your brain, you're too stunned to hold them in; they exit your mouth.

"You'd be a good dad."

He's silent for a moment.

"What?"

You gape, not believing you just said that aloud. Did he hear you right? maybe you could just...

"Cat. Cat dad. I said you'd be a good cat dad."

"Huh..." he mutters. "Guess I heard you wrong."

Life goes on.

Later that night, in bed, you flick off your bedside light. He doesn't.

"Babe?" you say, wondering if something's up.

"Did I hear you wrong?" he asks quietly.

Damn it. You knew you couldn't get off the hook that easily. You look up to see him staring down at his hands in his lap; that look on his face he gets when he can't seem to catch up to his brain. You sigh and scoot closer.

"No, you...you heard me right."

You hide in his shoulder. His arms come around you immeadietly; it's first nature for him, not second.

"Can I hear you again?" he asks softly. You look up.

"You'd be a good dad."

[littleskeletonprincessss]

Oh this is precious

[kyawritesstuff]

omg i was legit scrolling thru ur blog the other night (couldn't sleep) and ur works inspired this one 😭

so full circle