#when i start writing them i keep putting a part in the description talking about upgrades and different costs

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than knees

Had to stop adventuring because of an arrow to the knee? You should've hired a

SUPPORT CLASS

It's well-known among adventurers and dungeon-delvers that very few who choose the adventuring life want to be in the support role. Somewhat less well-known is just how much adventuring parties are willing to pay for a skilled support. Whether driven by money, altruism, or simple love for the craft, you want to become a support. But there are many ways to play the role. What spells will you learn, what skills will you train? What kind of support will you become? The time, effort, and resources you spend to train yourself are represented by 5 experience points (XP), which you spend to gain skills, spells, and other advantages, collectively called Perks. All Perks cost 1 XP. Some Perks require prerequisite Perks that must be learned as well, which are noted in parentheses.

Healing: The signature skill of a support. You've learned to treat wounds both in the heat of combat and in the safety of a camp. If you don't learn this, you'll only be able to perform basic first aid, and bandages just aren't quite enough in the middle of a brawl.

Healing Master (requires Healing): Let's be honest, practically every support knows how to heal. If you want to stand out, you need MORE; heal off deadly wounds in a flash, restore the whole party to full after a dragon's breath, pump out heal after heal no matter how long the fight goes on, REVIVE THE DEAD!! You're not just a healer, you're THE healer.

Aggressive Buffs: Amp up the party's fighting ability to wipe out enemies faster. Pump up muscles, enchant weapons with elements, hasten movement and/or attacks, there's lots of ways to make your allies better at killing things.

Defensive Buffs: An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of care. Create shields to deflect blows, make wards that dampen elemental attacks, apply vaccines against status ailments, you've got all kinds of spells to stay one step ahead of the enemies' tricks.

Buff Mastery (requires Aggressive Buffs and/or Defensive Buffs): You're an expert at empowering your allies! You can give your warrior the strength of an ogre, make a dragon's fire feel like a warm breeze, and make your whole party as quick as the wind.

Persuasion: The best way to avoid injury is to stop the fight before it can start. Whether by intimidation, charm, or a polite attitude, you know how to talk your way out of dangerous situations and get what you want without lifting a finger.

Ranged Attacks: Hanging out in the back lines can get dull, why not help the enemies die faster? It's not your top priority, but with a bow or some spells, you can get in some decent attacks when there's no need to heal or buff.

Melee Attacks: As a support, enemies will tend to rush toward you first. But where some see adversity, you see opportunity. With a blade or staff, you can surprise any enemies that get close with some powerful hits.

Combat Medic (requires Ranged Attacks and/or Melee Attacks): The enemies need to die, so why not help with that directly? In addition to improved attacks, you know how to mix your supportive skills into your fighting; steal life from enemies to give to the party, weaken them with your strikes, and boost your own strength along with your allies'. You do still need to learn actual supportive skills in order to use them.

Debuffs: Weakened enemies are much less dangerous and much easier for you party to kill. Sap enemies' strength, slow their movements, silence them to prevent spellcasting, and any other affliction you can think of.

Divination: Information is as valuable a resource as any potion or weapon. Scry through dungeon walls, communicate across vast distances, see the future, or even read minds! No secrets can hide from you.

Crafting: With all the junk adventurers pick up, you'd think more of them would know what to do with it. You know how to brew potions, make arrows, and put together all sorts of useful items. You can also imbue your supportive abilities into items, such as to make buff potions, imbue arrows with debuffs, or enchant a ring with temporary regeneration.

Summoning: Sometimes your party needs backup, or sometimes you find yourself without a party at all. In any case, you have some way (spirits, monster taming, constructs, necromancy, etc.) of calling up extra party members for help. Alternatively, you have a little familiar, around housecat sized with some combat skill, that's always by your side and can be revived easily if it dies. A familiar might be a bit weak, but at least you don't have to waste energy summoning it!

Summon Master (requires Summoning): Your summoning is more than just another spell in your arsenal. You can call upon a mighty dragon or storm elemental, or a small army of animals or skeletons. If you chose to have a familiar instead, it can be as large as a bear, and it's about as powerful as one regardless of size.

[stardust-thief]

look after you

an: this my first x reader fic LMAOO, i needed to write smth and this spencer was on my brain :// i am in the middle of a rly long donna fic but i cba this was much easier. also i absolutley have not proof read this sorry

synopsis: you get hurt while hunting down an unsub, after some reluctance (and kind words from papa rossi) you let spencer take care of you, 1.7k words

cw: descriptions of violence, panic attack, spencer swears and can drive (the most un-canon thing abt him) umm italians..., the rest is just fluffy, hurt/comfort, x reader but no y/n

masterlist

The unsub had his gun pointed at you, the cold press of the barrel against flesh. He was ranting and raving about needing to be seen and understood, having spent his childhood in emotional neglect. Teachers and parents failed him at every turn, it’s not his fault that this happened but he can fix it if he just drops the gun. Rossi tried to tell him this over and over, but he only got more angry, pushing the gun in harder and harder. 

If you were to open your eyes, you would’ve seen JJ and Luke there too, guns trained on the unsub. Their eyes glancing between you, the unsub, and the gun. But you didn’t. Not until the bang went off and you could breathe again. 

The flashing lights of the ambulance do nothing to dissuade the pressing headache you feel coming on, the movement of people helps even less. You watch as the EMT’s cart the unsub away on a gurney, sheet covering him. 

“You okay, kid?” Rossi asks from beside you, he had been hovering ever since the ambulance arrived. 

“I’m fine, just need a good night's rest. I’ll be good as new.” You hummed half-heartedly. 

David Rossi always knew when someone was lying to him, part of that talent comes from his job as a profiler, but it’s mostly because of some ancient Italian magic. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that to me. Look, Hotch is on his way with Reid and Emily. They’re gonna be taking some witness statements, but I imagine Boy Wonder will be a little distracted. I want you to let him take care of you, ok? You’ve been through hell tonight kid, let him worry.”

Italians never lie, although you wish they did. Spencer had very obviously caught feelings for you, everyone on the team could see it. Unfortunately, so could you. Spencer Reid was one of the kindest, most genuine people you had ever met, always putting other people's needs before his own. A voice in your head kept telling you that there is nothing you have done to deserve someone like him doting all over you? You had only brought trouble to the people who loved you. Eventually you learned that it was better to just keep everyone at a distance; if you don’t let them in, they can’t get hurt. Which worked well, up until Spencer.

He had such a wormy way of getting into your brain at the worst times; whether it was when you were alone in your kitchen, or at slightly dangerous, very inappropriate times on a case. You couldn’t stop thinking about him and his stupidly cute (and sometimes ill-timed) facts. Some part of you wanted to let him in, in the end the stubborn side always took over. 

Before long, you heard the worried cries of Spencer trying to find you in the chaos. Rossi called his name and gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Remember, you deserve to be looked after too.” and left to find Hotch.

“Oh my god, are you okay? We tried to get here as soon as we could, but they managed to take down the unsub right? What happened, did he hurt you? How did you get so close? Talk to me are-” Oh, how he rambles. 

“Spencer, I’m fine. I just need to… rest, you know. He didn’t hurt me that bad, just a sprained wrist, couple bruises. Could’ve been worse.”

He spluttered, “Could’ve- you know, that doesn’t make this any better, I was so worried about you. He had a fucking gun to your head, I was going insane thinking about what could’ve happened. What did the EMT say about your wrist?”

“Just to rest it, and use an ice pack if it starts to swell or hurt.” You couldn’t look him in the eye, he was so worried about you. It made butterflies dance in your belly, but there was a twinge of guilt there too. He was so busy, he worked so hard and then went home to look after his mom. He had too much on his plate, how could you add more to it? “Spence, I’m really sorry about worrying you. I should be fine to leave now, so I’ll just head home and sleep it off. Have a good night.” You pushed yourself off the ambulance, eyes focused downwards, restless fingers fidgeting with the already frayed bandage.

“No- wait what are you talking about? You’re gonna drive yourself home in this condition? I can’t let you do that, even thinking about it makes me feel sick.” He lowered his head to yours and spoke softer this time, “Please let me take you home. I don’t have to stay, I just want to make sure you’re ok, ok?”

Fuck that voice did things to you. Leaning from side to side, you thought about what Rossi had said earlier. Maybe, it was ok to let someone in? It would be cruel to let him suffer more, not knowing if you were ok or somehow got in a car crash with 5 other vehicles on your way home. Just this once, you think.

Looking up into his soft eyes, you give a small nod. His lips immediately turned up into a smile, his hand comes up to cup your head, fingers stroking your cheek. It felt… nice. His thumb was calloused but he still moisturised enough for it to feel smooth, and he smelled like lemongrass and ginger. His hand fell to the small of your back as he guided you to his car. Ever the gentlemen, he opened your door and softly placed his hand over your head as you got in. Manoeuvring himself into the driver's side, he pulled out his phone and typed something, then quickly stuffed it away into a pocket and turned on the engine.

The sky was dark when you woke up. The unsub had a gun to your head at dusk, and Spencer was walking into your apartment when the moon was out. He took off his shoes and the door, and walked into your living room.

“I’ve never been here before,” he mused. “I like it.”

He looked at ease wandering around your apartment, his shoulders had relaxed and he let out soft musings as he perused your photo collections.

“Oh Spencer, not that one, it’s embarrassing!” You tried (with not a lot of effort) to pull him away from the frame.

“No this is cute, was this when you were at University?” He asked, wrapping an arm around you.

Oh my god. “Yeah, um- those were some of my friends at the time. I try and keep in touch but, you know.”

He hummed, pulling you closer into him. Finally content, he looked down at you. “How’s your wrist?”

“It’s ok,” you shrugged, “just a little tender now.”

“Where’s your kitchen, I can get some ice.”

“Spence-” you wanted to tell him no, to go home and look after himself. But his body was so warm, having him so close to you melted your brain, leaving you unable to think of any good reason as to why he should leave. “It’s the first door on the right.”

His grip tightened for a moment before he swiftly navigated you to the sofa, and turned to leave for the kitchen. The cold of the apartment rushed to get you as soon as he unraveled his arms. You hadn’t been alone all day since the unsubs attack, it somehow felt more claustrophobic. His hand on your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. The way he grabbed your arm, contorting it so he could throw you to the ground. The gun, pressed into your forehead. The knowledge that the only thing between you being alive, and you being in a ditch, was a madman's finger on the trigger. Reality faded as each memory pressed further and further into your mind. You weren’t in your apartment anymore, you could feel the cold concrete beneath your hands. The thick air in your lungs, Rossi and the unsub shouting.

A hand on your knee, a soft voice bringing you back. There was no unsub, no gun to your head. You were alive. You were alive and Spencer was in your apartment, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face.

“You with me?” His voice was so soft, you couldn’t recall ever hearing Spencer raise his voice in anger. He was so gentle when he touched you. 

The floodgates burst, choked sobs made their way past your lips. Your shoulder shook as you cried, pressing yourself into Spencer’s arms. “Oh honey,” He murmured, pressing his lips into your head, softly rocking you back and forth as you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. It was too much. You could have died today. Very nearly did. You weren’t ready to die, not yet at least.

As your cries softened into hiccups, you pushed yourself back from Spencer. “I’m sorry, that was so disgusting. It just all- I don’t know.”

 “Hey, you don’t ever have to apologise to me ok? What you went through was really scary, I’d honestly be more shocked if you didn’t cry.” His hand moved to draw soothing shapes along your back as you leaned back into him. “You want to watch something to calm down? I brought you some water and an ice pack for your wrist.”

He would be the death of you. You nod and push yourself back into the sofa, moving your wrist to rest in your lap. Spencer gently places the ice pack across your wrist and grips the tips of your fingers. He leans forward to push your cup of water towards you and grabs the TV remote, then turns and leans back so your side is pressed into his front. Truthfully, Spencer didn’t seem like the type to watch cable TV but he navigated the menu with somewhat ease. 

“Look at what’s on! It’s your favourite isn’t it, you want me to put it on.” He said as he nudged your shoulder.

He remembered your favourite film, of course he would remember it he has an eidetic memory. You hummed a yes as you relaxed your body further into his, finally content. Maybe Rossi was right, having Spencer close really wasn’t so bad after all.

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: fluff, a bit of smut (mention of tits:3)

I recommend reading part 1 firstly<3

Loser!Metalhead!König who is completely and utterly smitten by you. You, a pretty little thing, big doe eyes looking up at him adoringly, glossed lips kissing him so softly - you make his very bones melt. König is known for his sharp tongue and stoic demeanour, but with his girl he turns into a little teddy bear, all soft and putty and pliant in your hands.

Needless to say that this is Loser!Metalhead!König’s first ever relationship (and he hopes last one - ain’t no way he’s letting you go), so he’s a bit clueless. Not a bit. Okay he’s completely oblivious. I mean, König for sure knows some very basic concepts of relationships, some of them he feels intuitively, some he saw displayed in movies, but in general? You have to give him crystal clear instructions and explanations because this dude doesn’t get damn hints. Yes, it is okay that he holds your hand in public, that’s what you’ve been waiting for months actually. No he can’t punch a guy for smiling at you after you met eyes for a second.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is a member and co-founder of a small heavy metal band with two of his other loser friends, where he is a drummer. They 100% put way too much meaning into band’s name, lyrics and overall aesthetic meanwhile all of their music is about gore and being a hater. It still slaps tho.

They start low - as all music bands do - performing in local rock clubs, soon finding their small, yet loyal audience which grows bigger with time and new records. And even though you’re not actually participating in process of making music - you sure are a member. Those losers surely don’t know how to give interviews - here comes in old little you, answering questions and explaining meaning and inspirations behind songs, process of their creation. Obviously you are the one leading their socials too - before you stepped in their insta page looked more like a mock account filled with ugly ass photos and near to no information about band nor members, account’s description saying “Austria - we make music”

You’re also the one doing their stage makeup, drawing creepy patterns in black and white face paints, making them look actually cool. These losers can’t even do their own significant makeup by themselves - just smearing black paint all over their faces and proudly calling it a stage look smh

Loser!Metalhead!König who definitely practices his singing while showering. He claims it’s good for keeping his voice cords active, “not letting them get rusty”, but just imagine this - you’re getting ready for bed, doing skincare, making your shared bed and fluffing up the pillows, scrolling in your phone - all while devil’s screeching and howling comes from the bathroom, all because that hulk of a man practices screaming techniques.

The more their band gets popular - the more fans start to rave about dynamic of your relationship. Big, burly, 6’10 brute who has to tilt his head down and draw his shoulders together in order to get through a doorframe dating a bubbly princess of a girl like you. Two polar opposites who work out so good together, Mick Thompson and Stacy Riley vibes frfr (god when will it be me)

Loser!Metalhead!König who definitely mansplains all his favourite bands’ lore to you, giving information about every member, how they became popular, what are their most known songs are (and what they got cancelled for but we don’t talk about it okay?)

Loser!Metalhead!König who is still a fucking loser tho. He blushes and stutters every time he sees your tits, his palms getting sweaty, lips ajar as his widened eyes are glued to your exposed chest, Adam’s apple bobbing on his neck. Has he seen them dozens of times before? Yes. Will he ever not be impressed by your tits upon seeing them? Hell no.

A/n: not me dropping this off after a year of not writing and then disappearing again:3

[acrosstheujiverse]

dynamics of an introverted couple

【🔎】 description: scenarios you have with your introverted boyfriend, woozi, as an introvert yourself. 【🖇️】 pairing: introvert!woozi x introvert!reader. 【💿】 genre: FLUFF!! 【🧺】 tags: butterflies in your stomach, x1000 cute.

📬 — author’s note！my first official post! haha. it MAY take a while for me to actually have the courage and confidence to post my aus, but i hope you will be patient with me ^-^

thank you ♡ enjoy reading this.

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your love story wouldn’t be one of love at first sight. no. instead, it would go under the slow-burn genre of romance. a friends-to-lovers slow burn.

in the few instances where jihoon would be outside and hang out with his small circle of close friends, he would be introduced to you. by courtesy of seungcheol.

you and jihoon’s first meeting was somewhat formal, with a few jokes and questions to break the ice, courtesy of soonyoung. it would take the two of you more hangout sessions to actually feel comfortable in each other’s presence.

jihoon would be the first to fall; he wouldn’t admit it to you, but he started to be interested with everything you said, and he would care about you. more than in a friendly way.

when hit with the growing feeling of being in love with you, jihoon would try to keep it to himself. he would be too shy to confess his feelings.

as the two of you walked after having finished yet another hangout session with your friends, you would be the one who confessed to him. in the many hangouts you had, you knew jihoon already; he was not the type to actually express his feelings. he wouldn’t be the one confessing, and he wouldn’t have the courage to actually risk your friendship.

you and jihoon wouldn’t have many fights.

when you two DO have fights, it’s because of a lack of communication. you suppress your feelings, whereas jihoon expresses himself with harsh words, pushing people away and isolating himself in his studio. (it’s due to his hectic work schedule and lack of sleep that he struggles to manage his stress.)

you both learned the hard way why communication—communicating your feelings—is an important part of any relationship.

both of you have slowly become vulnerable to each other. through face-to-face conversations or through text, whichever makes you both comfortable.

“not everyone is comfortable talking about their emotions and vulnerabilities, and that’s okay. but please don’t push people out without first telling them how you feel about the topic (that you’re uncomfortable and would like to not talk about it). if they’re truly concerned about you, they would understand the boundary you just put up and drop the topic.”

this relationship would be LOWKEY—i mean on the down DOWN-low. to the point where the only time you publicly show your guy’s relationship would be after like 5+ years of dating. (it’s THAT lowkey.)

it wouldn’t be surprising to many if you both decided to announce your relationship once you were both engaged.

even though he doesn’t have that much dating experience… jihoon would be the romantic type. he doesn’t show it, but he has seen different types of media—from shows to animes—to KNOW how to be romantic towards his partner. he wouldn’t be the over-the-top kind of romantic, but he would surprise you in the simplest but sweetest of ways. like randomly giving you flowers (if you’re allergic, it’s fake flowers) out of nowhere just because he felt like it, or (leaning to something more of his forte) dedicating a song he’s been writing to you—a melodic and nostalgic feeling to it.

for you and jihoon, it’s the little things that count. simple but never boring.

both you and jihoon liked the privacy and intimacy of your relationship.

you two are liberated from the social convention of broadcasting your guy’s relationship to the public. you two can be in love without the prying eyes of the public.

sleeping in on weekends would be the norm for both of you because you’re both sleep-deprived.

groggily waking up to sight of jihoon’s cute sleeping face, you honestly can’t be more grateful for his existence and presence in your life.

you can’t help but lightly pinch at the sight of jihoon’s squishy cheeks. he would slowly and slightly open his eyes, his nose scrunching from the sensation. he gives you a lazy smile and a soft peck at the tip of your nose.

“g’morning love.”

[it was in fact the afternoon, but who could correct this fatigued guy?]

although your love for each other may not be as obvious as most relationships are, it is the kind of love that you’re glad to be going home to.

a quiet love that speaks languages that only you two understand.

— fin.

[storiesfromafan]

He's So Annoying - Mattheo x Reader

A/N: honestly, not sure where this came from. But am not mad about it 😂 maybe a Part Two?

Warning/s: mention of hooking up, some description of female receiving oral 😅

Prompt/s: “I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist" and “My tongue still remembers the way you taste"

Mondays, the one time every student – that weren’t lovers of schooling – would agree to hate the start of a new week. You cursed the day, and with it the next work load to come with it. Even though you were a Ravenclaw, and had a decent brain, you still detested learning and doing it in a classroom setting. Not because of the subjects or the teachers. But rather the students in your classes. Particularly a set of Slytherin's.

Lorenzo Berkshire, Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle.

The three Slytherin Princes, as labelled by the female masses of Hogwarts, were always a nightmare. Especially Mattheo. Who enjoyed tormenting you personally, though your girl friends say he’s flirting with you. Either way, you hated it and him. You always did your best to put as much distance between you both. Yet, he just about always works his magic to sit next to you or behind you. And from there he would talk to you or write you notes. Always saying/writing how pretty you were, how he’d like to take you for a butterbeer, etc. You never responded to him, always leaving him hanging. Which seemed to just make him more persistent.

Yet this morning Mattheo had kept his distance in your first class of the day, and then in your second class too. But just when you get your hopes up that he finally had moved on, in your third class – Potions – that Slytherin pretty boy reared his brunette curly head.

You were at your potion station, unpacking your parchment, quill and text book, when that all to familiar presences slid next to you. You stiffened, the smell of his aftershave and cigarettes hitting your nostrils. Silently you cursed whoever was listening, cursing them for not keeping the brunette menace away from you.

“Just my luck, you don’t have a potions partner today" Mattheo commented, tone laced with a giddiness that made you roll your eyes.

“I do have a partner, Abby" you retorted, continuing to set yourself up for the class.

He chuckled. “Oh I think Abby will be just fine with someone else as their partner" countered Mattheo.

You shot him a glare. “I’d rather her as my partner, thanks. So, you can move on before I-”

Unfortunately for you, that was the moment Professor Snape came rushing into the room. The man practically glided across the room, demanding everyone to take to their stations, before coming to stand at the front of the room. His unnerving presences, his eyes roaming over every students to make sure they were at their stations. Once pleased, he turned to the board behind him and began to inform the class of today’s lesson.

Mattheo chuckled as he leaned over to you, “guess you’re stuck with me".

And with that he moved back to his side. Seeming to be listening to Snape drone on about some potion you’d be learning about this week, along with its counter parts. Yet you didn’t listen, you were focused on the menace next to you. How he smiled sweetly, after noticing the deadly look you were giving him. He was enjoying how worked up you were.

After Snape had addressed the class, he assigned a page in your textbooks for you all to read over and take notes. Of course Mattheo had ‘forgotten’ his textbook, and just moved closer to share yours. Even after you told him that there were spares up in the back cupboard. He waved you off, saying it was easier to just share the textbook. Feeling your anger rise, you chose to keep yourself in check. Rather then fly off and loose your house any points and get detention. Something Snape was fond of handing out as punishment for disrupting his classroom.

It was during this rather silent moment of study and note taking that Mattheo looked around. Making sure no one was looking or listening, though he didn’t really care. But he knew you would care. Seeing that no one was paying him or you both any mind, he leant closer to you. His hot breath hitting your ear.

“You know (Y/N/N), I dreamt of you last night...” he whispered, pausing to see how your eye twitched at his intrusion on your peace and space. “I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist”.

Your hand, which had been writing, halted at his words. Your breath catching in your chest.

Mattheo smirked. “Or should I say a memory from Saturday night?”

Now you shot him a dark glare, before you looked around you both, making sure no one was listening in. “I-I don't know what you’re talking about" you lied. You knew all too well.

Mattheo's smirk grew at your glare and words. This was the loveliest thing to happen today. Teasing you about your dalliance at a Slytherin house party. Something you had chewed him out over, and said to never speak of. And yet here he was, speaking about it. Because it had been all he could think about. Recalling the way you’d kissed. How you felt in his hands. The spark between you both that ignited and lead to a night that couldn’t be forgotten. Though, you had wanted to put it behind you, hoped to put behind you.

Yet every so often that door in the back of your mind would open. And spilling out would be that night, that encounter with Mattheo Riddle. Which had surprised you. For he had been slow and gentle, attentive and meeting your every need. The boy knew what he was doing, while you lacked his experience. Your glare slipped, as a red tinge your cheeks from the memories coming forth.

You felt a hand, his hand, brush your thigh under the table. Bringing you back to the present, and where you both currently were. You moved your leg from him, Mattheo's hand falling back to his side. And he laughed at how you were playing hard to get. Well in his mind you were.

He leant in once more, this time knowing what he was about to say had to be between you both. “My tongue still remembers the way you taste...” you could hear his tongue running over his lips.

A vision of Mattheo’s head lifting from between your legs, licking his lips after feasting on you, came to mind. The intimate memory making you feel embarrassed for letting him do such a thing to you. And yet, you shamelessly enjoyed it. Enjoyed how he had started by kissing your inner thighs, as his hands moved up to cup your breasts, a gentle squeeze as well. Before they roamed back down over your stomach and to grab your thighs.

You recall how he’d looked up to you, those dark devilish eyes taking you in before looking to his prize between your legs. How his hands opened your legs wider, along with it the lips of your sex. Mattheo leant in, hot breath fanning over you before moving in. His wicked tongue seeking out your bundle of nerves, and flicking over it a few times. The sensation from such a small movement had a tiny moan escaping your throat.

You shook your head. “Stop it” you hissed, resisting the urge to adjust yourself in your seat.

“You sure, love?” Teased Mattheo.

Just like you, he had been recalling that moment. Remembering how you tasted, how you moaned. How he drove you crazy before making you cum on his tongue. Which in turn, drove him crazy. The sexual chemistry between you two had been off the charts. But the moment you had looked at him, eyes blown out and mouth a gap, after he’d given you your first orgasm of the night, Mattheo knew he didn’t just want you. You had to be his.

“I’m not your love" you snapped, deciding to put some distance between you two by shuffling your stool away from him.

After that you went back to work, reading and taking notes. And then soon Snape began to talk again. As he went on, you continued to take notes. But every so often you would look out the corner of your eye at Mattheo. He was taking notes, only half assed ones. He looked more preoccupied with his thoughts. Which you found strange. The boy never contemplated anything, that you knew of. Nor had he ever dropped his advances so quickly. Shaking your head, you told yourself not to worry about him. He wasn’t your problem.

‘But do you want him to be...?’ You stupid subconscious questioned you.

No. No, you did not want Mattheo Riddle. Not in any way! What happened Saturday night was a stupid, drunk mistake.

‘And yet you enjoy the memory of it...’ it teased you.

You glared at your parchment, as you told yourself it was a mistake. Which didn’t deny your subconscious words. You hate to admit, but you did enjoy it. What he did and how he made you feel, it was something you knew you’d never get from any other male. You hate to admit but the sexual chemistry was there, the perfect mix between you both that had every nerve in your body singing.

Yet you couldn’t tell Mattheo that. It would only add to his big head. No, you would take this revelation and admission to the grave. You would not give Mattheo Riddle any power over you. It was a stupid, drunk mistake. And that was it. Done and dusted.

[midnightdevotion]

Not Real (1)

Hi Guys!! I mentioned writing this fic back in august??? anyways sorry for taking so long. I'm trying to have more balance with my creative hobbies and do them more regularly.

Description: Hangman, ever elusive and avoiding commitment finally finds the one. Except she doesn't think love is real anymore. Part 1

Warnings: Depression, Reader loses themselves, Slow burn, and I do use y/n so sue me ig

Pairing: Jake Seresin x female Reader

Readers POV

It's an uncharacteristically rainy day in Southern California. You heave a small sigh at the ever lasting grey clouds. To be completely honest, your life has felt like an everlasting grey cloud recently.

Heart broken one too many times, seemed to take the color out of life. You were someone who looked at fuzzy bumble bee's and grinned. Who felt the wind blow against her skin and let it relax any tension.

Now it was like nothing but grey existed in your mind. You didn't know how to escape the hallow shell you have turned into. It felt like the person you were is so far gone and yet you still vividly remember every thing. Every thing you loved about the version of you, you just can't seem to reach any more.

The easy laughter no longer came, the yellow sunshine your personality was described as now ashes and dull. The worst part of all of it was nobody noticed.

Nobody put together how your entire world was ripped away and nobody saw how it changed you. How you could barely get through the day, crawling back into bed as soon as you get home.

These endless grey days lasted months. A good thing would happen, you got a raise, and cried to yourself later that night. It was good, why didn't anything feel good, why didn't you feel like enough anymore.

------

You could feel the change, not sure when it happened but it felt like it was so slow and then all at once. One day you couldn't imagine being happy ever again, and suddenly, one day you had your spark back.

You'd never wish on your worst enemy the 8 months you had just lived through, the thoughts that haunted you now just painful memories you can push to the side and leave behind.

You found friends you genuinely feel happy to know. Who have your back in every scenario. It started with meeting Phoenix, or rather Natasha. You first met Natasha after forcing yourself to go to the gym regularly. Hoping the endorphins that release from exercise would help your depression.

In ways they did, like the butterfly effect. You went to the gym, every day for a week and Natasha noticed. She noticed the empty eyes, and came up to you one afternoon. She introduced herself and asked if you wanted to be friends, In her exact words

"I'm sorry if this sounds weird but I work with all dudes and I genuinely need someone to talk to that doesn't rage testosterone, soooo brunch Sunday?"

And it sparked a real laugh out of you, a sound that use to be so common to you now unfamiliar to your own ears.

It's been six months since then, you and Phoenix have grow very close, She has introduces you to a few of her coworkers 'the safe few' she has dubbed them.

It was a usual Thursday night for you when you get a call from her, asking you to come to the hard deck. Which is unusual for her, she usually liked to keep her aviator life separate from her friendship with you.

It didn't bother you, her reasoning of pilots are assholes and your aversion to getting hurt again made it pretty straight forward to take her word for it.

So when you pulled up to the parking lot of the infamous bar she frequents with her navy friends. It feels a little like going into the lions den.

You roll you shoulders and sigh. An old version of you tickling the back of your mind that this is what you should be doing when you're young and single. Not moping because your heart got shattered beyond repair. Or so you believed anyways.

The loud ambiance of the bar was startling slightly, for a Thursday night the bar is packed. A sea of never ending khaki it takes you a few minutes to find your friend.

"y/n!" Rooster calls, one of the few 'safe friends' you have met. He has always been nice to you, and in fact regularly joins your girls nights.

"Hi rooster" you grin at the mustached golden retriever. Giving him a side hug, trying not to feel intimidated by the eyes on you. "nobody told me khaki was the move tonight" you laughed

Rooster shook his head grinning. "I know, it's bad isn't it" and okay it definitely isn't the look for some, but you will definitely attest that rooster and every in this area seems to pull them off well.

"oof" a grunt leaves your lips as you are suddenly hugged from the side, a slightly taller brunette almost taking you down with her on impact.

"Nat what on earth" you laugh.

"I-II knew you would c-come!" She slurred her words and her eyes looked at you unfocused. You furrow your brow and help balance her.

"uh phoenix why did you ask me to come? do you need a ride home?" there was a small part of you that was hoping she would say yes and you could leave the loud crowd, especially feeling like a sore thumb being one of the very few people in denim shorts and a tank top.

"No- No, si-silly. Hangman here said I didn't have any friends, so I bet him I did and that you would come here and prove it." you laughed because Natasha was always betting on things, especially when she gets tipsy. "he owes me fifty bucks now" she grins

"HANGMAN!!" you wince as she shouts in your left ear. You hear a slow drawl that sounds like he's somewhere from the south in reply.

"Yea yea Phe, I will get you cash tomorrow" You turn your head and notice the tall blonde man leaning against the wall. Clearly watching this whole interaction. He gives you a wide grin, one you can tell right away means he gets what he wants and has no problem breaking hearts.

"what I can't figure out is why phoenix has been hiding you all this time" his eyebrow raises when he notice you grimace, his clear attempt to be charming not impressing you.

"probably cause pilots are assholes" is your albeit maybe a little to monotoned reply. It's not that you wanted to be mean. You just had to shut down any attempt at flirting. You don't think any version of your heart could ever love again.

What you didn't expect was for him to cock his head a small smile playing on his lips.

"well Phoenix has always been smart that way" not offended that you basically called him and half the people in this bar an asshole. "I'm Jake though, or as you heard earlier, hangman"

You just nod, finally getting introductions to the rest of the group. Excluding bob and rooster, the only other pilots you had been introduced too.

Despite only being called upon to win fifty dollars (which phoenix is buying brunch for on Sunday) You found yourself enjoying the company and getting to know the people Phoenix spent most of her time with. Finally putting names to faces she has definitely complained about.

At a certain point rooster goes up to the piano, something you had heard he does before coming tonight. You exited the bar for a few minutes to breathe. Thinking about the past and how the old you would be relishing in the socialization, singing along with rooster and the others, no worried and unbroken.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you startle looking to the left and seeing hangman leaning against the wall to the bar.

"Trust me you don't want to spend a penny on those" you laugh, but it feels a little hallow.

"why not, I already spent fifty bucks to prove you existed" that laugh comes a little easier.

"why'd you do that by the way?" you question. he had to have known you were real.

"honestly because phoenix talks about you a lot, and rooster and bob started mentioning you and I was curious"

"curiosity cost the cat fifty dollars apparently" you throw a grin at him, walking out to the sand kicking your sandals to the side to feel the coldness of the sand touch your skin. You weren't surprised when he followed, you kind of expected it.

"it sure did... but I have a gut feeling it was the best money I've every spent" It makes something old and dead flutter inside you, and it scares the shit out of you.

"I don't know you ever spend fifty bucks on pizza when it's just you? cause that's some pretty good self care to me" you can't tell how he takes your evasion of his comment.

"that's pretty good too, but my gut feelings are usually right." in the past maybe heat would've rushed to your cheeks at his comment. Now though, fear rushed to your heart. You turned to look at him. No response on the tip of your tongue, and you were scared how awkward this interaction was going to get.

"well goodnight Darling, hope I see you again soon" and he smiled at you, then turned and walked to his truck. You watched as he pulled out of the parking lot, until his taillights faded. You headed back into the bar to say your goodbyes.

Later that night as you crawled into bed, mind blazing over everything that happened unexpectedly and knowing you'll be in for a tired tomorrow.

You couldn't get the thought of a certain blue eyed pilot out of you mind.

----

Jakes POV

He'd been hearing stories about you for months, Funny, sarcastic, kind, caring, every thing you could imagine in form of stories for months. At first he thought nothing of it, Phoenix having a girl friend is probably good when she deals with him everyday.

Then Bob started talking about you and funny stories with you and Phoenix. Then Rooster added into the group. It was safe to say Jake was feeling severe FOMO.

He had a plan. Get phoenix tipsy and she's pretty suggestible to anything, especially betting. So yes he planned on getting you to the bar, shamelessly flirting with Phoenix's friend and annoying Natasha the next day.

The universe had other plans, because when Jake laid eyes on you, it was like a spotlight was shining on you, he couldn't see anyone else. The bitter rage he felt at roosters hand on your side when you gave him a sheepish hug, burned hot.

So when he hit you with a flirty one liner, and you retorted, usually he wouldn't have given up. He saw it though, in your eyes, the cold dark fear. He became curious, what happened to make you so guarded, and why did he want to solve that so badly?

He sat in that bar and watched you laugh and joke, the smile never really reached your eyes though.

So Jake went home that night, focused on a new goal.

He wants to make you smile-- really smile.

[sagesbard]

Is it okay for me to request some sfw fluff hcs for post-crash Curly? Like the reader taking care of him and keeping him company on the tulpar or during his post-rescue recovery

If you’re not comfortable writing for post-crash Curly, I’d like some sfw + nsfw hcs with dorky, socially awkward reader and enamored Curly. Best way i can describe it is that line from the live action scooby doo movies where fred says to velma “i’m a man of substance. Dorky chicks like you turn me on too”

RAHHHH I LOVE DORKY READERS SM YALL DONT UNDERSTANDDDD

I am gonna use fem! Details for the reader mainly because I'm not good with male descriptions as it is and trying to make them vague for everyone genuinely might make me explode.

When he sees you start rambling about something you're interested in for the first time he's done for.

Head over heels obsessed dude.

Anytime you talk about something you're passionate about he starts researching it and finding little details to bring up to you in a conversation.

If youre the type to get even more excited when someone brings up a detail (like me fr) that's his favorite part of the day.

When y'all cuddle at night and you start rambling tiredly that's when he just smiles lovingly. This is his future wife and he wouldn't have it any other way.

NSFW

If he notices you really like a character in that type of way he MIGHT find a cosplay or a way they dress and try to "seduce" you with that.

9 times out of 10 you both just sit there laughing for 45 minutes.

BUT if it's like a time period thing like the wild west for example and he notices you're having a bad week or things just haven't been that exciting in the bedroom he'll 100% come into y'all's room with some type of get up and when you ask him what he's doing he just smiles dumbly in whatever stupid accent (to the best of his ability because Aussie Curly)

Imma keep running with the cowboy one because yes.

If there's like a prop or something like rope he can use he's definitely using it.

Tying you up gently ofc and fucking you sweetly OMG.

Putting his cowboy hat on your head and making you ride him.

Your day gets a million times better from that alone.

Granted you probably won't be able to walk after.

[heavenbarnes]

Work for it

Spencer Reid x Reader

Part one

Warnings/contains: no mentions of reader’s gender or genital description, dirty talk, unprotected sex, finishing inside, riding, semi-public sex

Here’s part two since you all asked so nicely! I really do love writing for this man so keep asking and you’ll keep receiving (also this gif? i’m gonna’ pass out omfg)

“This is all for you, baby,” He sighed, feeling your hand reach into his pants. “You take whatever you need.”

Spencer had this really intense way of always knowing what to say, always knowing which words were going to drive you insane. Today it was those ones.

Your stomach clenched, eyes nearly rolling back in your head as you watched him watch you. His eyes were hazy, following the movements of your fingers as you stroked his cock.

Slightly restricted by the fabric of his pants and boxers, you slowly twisted your hand around the length of him as your other hand lay flat against his FBI vest.

“It’s hard to think of a time you haven’t looked good,” You gasped, feeling him start peeling off your trousers. “But you’ve never looked this good.”

Spencer laughed, his eyebrow raised like he was challenging you. His fingers tugged at your pants, making you shuffle back to get them down your thighs.

“How about you take these off and show me what you mean?”

There was never any denying him, never any way around it- not like you’d ever want to. Kicking your pants into the footwell, you situated yourself back in Spencer’s lap as he pushed his pants down his thighs.

You watched him bring long fingers to his mouth, tongue swiping up them as he brought his hand back to his cock. All you could do was watch, completely fucked out before he’d hardly touched you.

Watching as he wrapped his hand around the head of his cock and wet it for you, his eyes locking with yours as he did it. His other hand came to your chin, holding it gently to get your full attention.

“Go ahead, I wanna’ watch you while you put it in.”

Your whole stomach flipped, a desperate moan slipping out as you raised onto your knees. Lining up Spencer’s cock with your entrance, you pressed your chin to your chest to watch it slip in.

A hiss came from between his teeth as he disappeared inside of you, taking him to the hilt. Both your hands secured back around the straps of his vest for leverage as you began to bounce in his lap.

Spencer’s head fell back against the car seat, his lips pouty and wet from where yours had been all over him. You just had to lean in and kiss him, you tongue running around his mouth and your fingers slipping into his hair.

The noises, the noises he made when you tugged on his hair and pulled him in closer. His hands secured around your hips and began to pull you down into his lap as you bounced on it.

“There we go- just like that, baby.” Spencer moaned brokenly, words muffled against your lips.

You didn’t know how you could hold on, part of you knew very well that you wouldn’t. Continuing to bounce on him, you took one hand off the vest and pressed your palm flat to the roof of the car.

Spencer looked up at the sight of you above him, he felt like he’d died and come back with a quest to be more grateful.

Long fingers pulled your hips onto his, car filled with sounds of skin on skin. His curls pressed against his damp forehead. Chest rising and falling against the firm hold of the bulletproof vest.

As you rose up again, Spencer held you in the air for a moment before he began hammering his hips up into you. Your mouth fell open, unintelligible sounds that could have been his name came out in quick succession.

You felt the coil in the pit of your stomach begin to unravel, unmistakable feeling of your orgasm fast approaching as you began to clench around him.

“I can feel it, baby,” His voice was a whine, fighting for what little composure he still had. “Give it to me- let me have it.”

Your eyes had been screwed up in pleasure, you made the conscious effort to pry them open and get one last look. It nearly killed you.

Spencer, completely debauched, sweat sheen across his face and blush on his cheeks. One hand holding your hips as he pulled you down on his cock. Other hand gripping the neck of his vest again, like he knew just what it did to you.

You nearly screamed, your voice breaking as you cried out for him- white hot feeling rushing over the entirety of you as you came for him. Clenched tight around him, you felt like your heart could stop.

Spencer only watched, fucking you through it but sure not to miss a moment. He could spend the rest of his life under you, watching you just like this as you came for him.

It was all enough for him, thighs tensing beneath you and hand clenching tight as you felt hot ropes of cum inside you. He slowed you to a stop, but still held you tight against him to keep it all inside you.

Falling against his chest, part of you was beginning to find the vest comfortable. Maybe it was just the fact you were in his arms. Maybe it was the way he rubbed your back as you came back down to earth.

Walking back into the office, you kept your eyes down as you followed behind Spencer. You knew everyone was looking at you both, you were nearly 30 minutes later than the rest of them.

You’d be crazy not to expect there to be questions.

Lucky Spencer was quick on the response.

“Yeah sorry, it’s my fault,” He threw his hands up as he rounded his desk. “There was something going on with my vest.”

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Editing Part ????: Final Steps (That You'll Repeat)

HI THIS POST WAS SUPPOSED TO GO UP IN JANUARY. Uuuh things. Are happening. In the US. Alas.

ANYWAY, to wrap up our editing tips. Some of this you'll do on your own, some of it you'll need feedback on, a lot of it is going back and forth between various edits. It is a process.

Tone and Voice

In review, is your character's voice consistent? Do they remain solid as a character, or do they wildly change in how they speak and act in the middle of the book for no reason?

When it comes to tone, are you writing with a consistently used vocabulary and structure? I'm not talking about dialogue - does your story feel the same, no matter if it's in third person or first?

A tonal shift or word change might happen if you've been working a long time on a project, and that's just a matter of going back through the book to make sure things match up.

Tension and Pacing

Does the action rise and fall naturally? Are your characters given room to breathe when appropriate?

Have you resolved (or addressed) all your subplots? Did you leave any romance or relationships dangling? Are there any chunks of your book that feel like a side-quest that doesn't contribute to the rest of the plot?

How is your scene pacing? Like your book, your scenes can't be 100% tension - they need to rise and fall. Fights and action should build naturally. If you're dropping a character into a situation with no foreshadowing, or if they obtain some new nifty power without really earning it, you might be throwing the pacing off.

Again, this just takes going back over to see what little things you need to set up to make the pay-off worth it.

Line Edits

Hopefully you've saved this for last, I know you won't, I know I won't, but fiddling with the language is going to be better done at the very end. Look out for:

Overused Words and Phrases - I find with each project, I become overly fond of one particular word. It's useful and fantastic until it pops up a little too often, and then I need to work on changing it up. Same with phrases - if you're brain is like mind, it'll find a neat little turn of phrase and repeat that six or eight times when you only needed it once.

Hedging Words - Almost, nearly, not quite, seems, appears, etc - these words are perfectly fine in academic writing, but they weaken your descriptive work. Instead of saying "he almost hit me" for example, describe the motion and the character's reaction. If someone seems upset, how can you describe that through their body language?

Dialogue Tags - You can use fun dialogue tags, and you don't have to delete every -ly abverb attached to "said." However, as boring as it seems, keeping it simple with mostly using "said" and "replied" will do most of the job.

Re-Checking Sentence Structure - If all your sentences within a paragraph follow the same structure, your reader is likely to start to skim. Change things up with shorter sentences paired with longer ones. Chunk actions scenes with short, punchy sentences, make sure descriptive paragraphs don't have sentences that go on for way too long.

Feedback

There's no easy way to find a good critique partner. I wish there was. You can and should join writer's groups and offer exchanges, be they online or in person. Sometimes you can love someone's work, but you don't mess with them as a critique partner. It happens, keep trying.

When you do find a critique partner, it's always good to give them guidance on what you're looking for. Some good questions:

Pacing - When did they put the story down? Why?

Consistency - Was anything confusing? Did the character's choices make sense?

Plot - Where there any twists that were too obvious? Did the stakes feel important? Was the plot satisfying?

A Note on "Predictable" Plot

There is a consistent argument about predictive plots versus originality, but thinking too hard about it may lead you astray. Certain genres have expectations - cosy murders will be solved, romance will end with the leads getting together, etc. Readers often go into stories wanting some predictability, because it's the journey of the story that matters the most. Making sure the story is engaging to read is far more important than trying to be original.

That said, you'll find in your second and third drafts that you will be able to put your own design on familiar stories. Treading familiar ground in the first draft is common, but when taking another crack of it, you can raise the stakes and make that ending much more satisfying.

Good luck!

[myjealouseyes]

Request from an anon: hi!! could u write about ravenclaw!reader actually meeting harry’s parents? and remus and sirius (pls make them a couple). i would love to see their interactions w her

Part one.

Send request here.

Harry squeezes your hand under the table as you desprately try to regain your footing after his sudden proclamation of love. You wonder if he feels bad, knowing he sprung that on you while you were mentally preparing for the moment that couple make or break your relationship. (‘Don’t worry,’ he says. ‘Just relax.’ Honestly, does he know you at all?)

As you manage to push all though feelings away for later you here a distant murmur of voices coming from the kitchen, all toppling over each other in what you hoped to be excitement. As you’re about to ask Harry if everything was okay, two of the four adults march out carrying dishes of food in each arm. ‘Big dinner,’ you think to yourself as you straighten up. ‘That’s a good sign right?’ You put on your best smile and begin to speak but Someone, Sirius based on Harry’s description, beat you to it. “Well if it isn’t famed Ravenclaw we keep hearing about!” He holds out his hand and you shake gently. “Y/N, is it? Harry can’t quit talking about you!”

His tone is loud and boisterous, but not unkind. It still sends Harry wheeling as he flushed deeply and releases your hand to run it through his hair hide his obvious fluster. “Padfoot!” He groaned. “You said you’d be cool!” Sirius cackles as he takes a seat next to a tall man, who you immediately recognize as your old professor. Remus slaps gently his shoulder giving you a polite smile. “It’s nice to see you again Y/N.”

“Again?” Comes a question from a head of red hair rounding the corner. Your heart speeds up as you recognized as Harry’s mom. Harry must notice, because his finger starts tracing reassuring shapes on your knee. Your shoulders relax slightly. “Oh, yes, I taught her during my short-lived time at Hogwarts. She’s quite brilliant.” You feel yourself relax at the compliment, even more so when Lily flashes you a smile. As she sits down you let out a small breath. Three down, only one more to go. Harry’s dad—

“James!” Lily calls with love, but underlying exasperation. You find yourself giving a small smile. You gave Harry the same tone, especially during O.W.Ls. He strides in and sits next her, holding her gaze in the manner of a lovesick teenager. You can’t help glancing at Harry to see if his stare for you matches. (It does. He looks away as you catch him.) “Y/N!” He exclaims as he finally looks away from his wife. “I feel like I already know you with how much my son brings you up!” Harry groans again and his family chuckles at his expense. You find yourself joining in. For the first time this whole night, you relax completely.

[prodigal-explorer]

how to write children's personalities

(this is part of my series, how to write children in fanfiction! feel free to check it out if you want more info like this!)

this is the main aspect of writing children that i see people mess up so often, especially in the fandoms i'm in (sanders sides and undertale). children are not adorable little noodles with no brains and no concept besides being cute and silly and crying. children are beings that are just as complex as adults, and they deserve personalities to match. this will make them way more interesting to read about! let's get started!

since there are so many aspects to personality to talk about and i don't want to sit here typing for ten years, we're going to do this guide a little differently. i'm going to divide these issues into archetypes, write a short description, and then make a list of do's and don't's for each one!

archetype one: the cute little baby

okay. babies are cute. we all know this, and i'm not saying it's a bad thing to make your babies cute. a lot of people love reading about moments with adorable little babies. but here are some ways to step this kind of thing up, and some things to avoid if you want to improve upon writing this archetype.

do's:

give the child character another archetype besides this one. though "cute" is the foundation for a lot of child characters, it's not a personality. and if a character is vital to your story, then it needs a personality. that's just a rule. you will read more about other archetypes further along in this post!

make the moments symbolic. though it doesn't seem like it from an outsider's perspective, basically everything a baby does is for a reason, and every action a baby makes can say something about their personality. if you want this baby's personality to be energetic and curious, have them crawl around and explore things, and laugh a lot, and babble. if you want this baby to be more sullen and shy, have them cry quietly instead of wailing, or have them squirm when being held by new people.

make the actions of the baby's guardians affect the mannerisms of the baby. babies act differently depending on how the people taking care of them act and react. for instance, if the baby's guardians are very busy people, then maybe have the baby cry very loudly whenever they want something, since they know that it's the only way to get the attention of their guardians. stuff like that can add depth to a character and to a general story.

don't's:

decide that the baby is cute and call it a day. sweet little babies are cool and all, but they get very boring to read about after a while. this can barely even be considered an archetype because of how bland it is when it's by itself.

keep this archetype around for too long. as babies turn into toddlers and then children, they don't act even remotely the same way. it's strange and off-putting to read about a seven year old acting like a two-year old, unless it's a very clear character choice that is a result of explicit actions and events.

make the baby know that it's cute. realistically, children don't understand the concept of cuteness until they're around toddler age. if then, you want to make the kid be like "i get what i want when i'm cute, so i'll act cute!", then sure, that's hilarious. but when they're two months old, they're not batting their eyelashes because that's their personality. they're batting their eyelashes because they got something in their eye. the main thing that makes a baby cute is that they don't know they're cute. they're just figuring out how to do ordinary things.

make everything a cute moment. while babies are awesome, raising them isn't always sunshine and rainbows. make the baby do something wildly chaotic, because babies do wildly chaotic things all the time. not only does this make things more realistic, but it makes things very interesting!

archetype two: the shy kid

as a former shy kid, i know good and well that these types of children exist, and they are very real and valid. however, there are certain ways i've seen them written that are just terrible because once again, this archetype cannot be considered a full personality on its own. let's get into the do's and don't's.

do's:

make their shyness a deliberate choice. kids aren't usually naturally shy. kids are usually more curious than cautious. is there a reason why the kid is shy? there doesn't have to be a reason why the kid is shy, but there could be a reason why the child is NOT outgoing/curious. try and give something like this some deliberate cause, instead of just making them shy so they can seem more precious and infantilized.

make their shyness manifest in diverse ways. not all shy kids cling to their guardian's leg and sit alone during recess. there are different ways to be shy. you can be aggressively shy, or fearfully shy, or shy due to general unwillingness to change.

make their shyness have realistic consequences. someone who's shy is probably not going to have many friends, if any. not all shy kids magically meet an extrovert who adopts them. someone who's shy probably has underdeveloped social skills, which can lead to them being less emotionally intelligent down the line. this makes the shy kid archetype a lot more three-dimensional than just a wet noodle of fear.

don't's:

infantilize shyness or treat it like it makes the kid some sweet, precious angel. not only is this very uncomfortable for shy people to read, but it's generally unrealistic. shyness doesn't affect how good or bad somebody is - it's a neutral trait.

use shyness as a tool to make characters seem younger. shyness does not indicate age. fear manifests in many different ways, and shyness is not the only way.

rely on cliches. not all shy people have the same journey, and the idea that a shy person becoming more outgoing is the "goal" is not only a bit offensive, but it's very cliche. shyness is not always an obstacle to be overcome.

archetype three: the happy-go-lucky kid

oftentimes, the reason why children characters are written into stories in the first place is to give a little bit of lightheartedness and innocence. to add a unique voice among all the cranky, stingy, burdened adults. but you have to be careful when writing this archetype. i personally really dislike this archetype as a whole, but i'm going to put personal feelings towards it aside because honestly, there's no valid reason to dislike it besides opinion.

do's:

give the kid a trademark. maybe this kid makes a lot of little jokes, or maybe they always see the best in a situation. give the kid one thing that makes them happy-go-lucky instead of just giving them everything because nobody is endlessly happy all the time in every way.

go deeper. while happiness is very often genuine, sometimes, it's a mask that hides something else. this can be an interesting way to sort of spice up your happy-go-lucky kid character. maybe the kid is hiding a big secret behind all those jokes.

don't's:

make the character always happy. while children tend to have simpler thoughts, they don't have simpler minds. this child needs to have thoughts, real, genuine thoughts that aren't just happy things.

see happy-go-lucky as a trait that is exclusive to children. comparing happiness to childhood and viewing them as the only places where the other can exist is just wrong, and it's kind of depressing. maybe give happy-go-lucky kid a happy-go-lucky adult to exchange jokes with!

---

those are the archetypes that i see a lot. but now, i'm going to suggest a few child character archetypes that i LOVE that i don't see enough in fics! feel free to use any of these that you like. alter them, combine them! these are, in my opinion, some of the most fun child character personalities!

the spoiled brat: "i want this, and that, and that, and- why aren't you giving it to me?? if you don't give me what i want, i'll tell on you!". spoiled brats are so fun to read and write about, especially when they have absolutely no reason to be spoiled given the current situation (think riches to rags). they've got everything, humor, angst, and best of all, lots of pockets for personality. think about why the child is spoiled. were they enabled by their guardians? did they grow up rich, with access to everything they wanted? think about whether you want the child to stay spoiled. does something change? do they learn how to improve their materialistic and selfish tendencies? there are so many opportunities to play with the personality of this child!

the know-it-all kid: while i do see a lot of know-it-all kids in media, oftentimes, they don't actually have personality besides bossiness and intelligence. i love know-it-all kids who have depth to them. kids who are constantly spouting information because of their sheer love to learn. kids who have one specific thing that they know everything about, so they never stop talking about it. kids who tell people what to do and act like they know best because they don't have a lot of control over anything at home, so they grasp at whatever control they can find elsewhere. i think this archetype could open up a lot of ideas for personality further down the line. it also has a lot of variety with humor and angst, and general depth.

the serious child: this is an archetype that i cannot get enough of. i love a child that doesn't think they're an adult, per se, and still enjoys kid things, but just has such a calm and regal air about them that isn't learned. it's just natural. think of the kid that doesn't really get excited about things conventionally, but you can tell they're happy by their faint smile. the kid that seems to live in slow motion, and doesn't mind this fact at all. the kid that sits alone at recess just because other kids scare the birds away, and they want to see how a bird acts when it doesn't think its being watched. i love kids who have poignant thoughts, because their thoughts are so creative and different from adult thoughts.

the adult-ified child: now this is another archetype i can't get enough of, but it's for a different reason. this child, on the other hand, does think that they're an adult for one reason or another. maybe their guardians forced them to grow up too quickly. maybe they just wanted to grow up quickly by themselves. but this child has thoughts that are too big for their little bodies. they explore things that aren't meant to be explored when their brains are still so small. they do everything too quickly, they stumble through life as if a clock is ticking somewhere. to me, they're just haunting to read about. it feels wrong and dangerous to just watch them do things that hurt them because they don't know any better, but they're on a page. nobody can stop them. it's just so tragic, i'm obsessed.

the prodigal child: this archetype isn't really as deep or detailed as the others, but i do appreciate it. this archetype is for a child who knew who they wanted to be from an early age. a child who wanders into a ballet class and finds out they're better than the ten year olds by the time they're five. this archetype often pairs really well with the know-it-all kid or the adult-ified child because usually, children don't experience what it's like to be the best at something until they're a lot older. this is just a really cool archetype when you aren't quite sure what to do with that main character's little sister.

the chaotic child: this archetype is so much fun to read and write, to be honest. this is a child that just does as they please, whether it's out of curiosity or for pure enjoyment. think of the crazy stories that your guardians have about you or your siblings being absolutely insane. scribbling in a book and then demanding that the library publish their version. trying to ride the dog like a horse. cutting up clothes in an attempt to be a fashion designer. this one is just plain fun!

---

now, there are so many more archetypes out there, but those are just my spotlights and recommendations! i hope after reading this, you feel more equipt to write child characters that have real, engaging, interesting personalities!

[moody-alcoholic]

Epilogue

It's over so here is my opportunity for a quick TED talk.

I do have idea's for some one shots in the future, so the fic won't be 'finished' but the main story is. I am also very much open to suggestions.

For now though this is the end for this fic. I want to say thank you to everyone who loved the story and followed it. To all the people who binge read it in one night. You have no idea how much it means to me.

I want to give a special thank you to @void-my-warranty for inspiring me through her work to bite the bullet and write a smut fic. If I was to dedicate this work to anyone it would be her. Thank you <3

I will write more Ghoap x reader in the future but for now I’m shifting my focus to my other work and the upcoming Johnny x Simon fic I have been working on. I always strive to improve with every work I put out there, so if you like this check out my other works they’re all a little different.

If you want more Ghoap stuff I will leave some recommendations here, there are so many talented authors out there who deserve way more love then me so go forth and enjoy!

Recommendations. A Dichotomy of Thought - REMEMBERWREN Ghoap x reader Harmless Fun - REMEMBERWREN Ghoap x reader Sundowning - losersimonriley Simon x Johnny Service Dog Johnny - void-my-warranty Ghost/Fem Reader/Soap ——————————

Summary: . Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe. CW: Mentions of suicide, grieving, mentions of death.

Previous parts - masterlist - Back to the start

Enjoy <3

6 months later

You’re surprised to see Johnny is waiting for you as you exit the hospital after your shift. You throw yourself in his arms.

“I thought you weren't back till Friday?” You say kissing him.

“Price got us on an earlier flight, thought I would come and surprise you.” He says wrapping his arm round your waist.

“Where’s Simon?” You ask looking around.

“Debrief, boring admin work, he’ll be back later.” Johnny says as you walk with him.

“That mean we’ve got the flat to ourselves?” You nudge him as he leads you to the car. He chuckles.

“How’s civilian life treating you?” He asks as you both get in. You quit the military a few weeks after what happened with Jack. Price managed to pull some strings and get you honourably discharged. You joined the reserves, it felt right, keeping just a little connection. You got your old job back at the hospital, the same one you and Chloe worked in. It was nice to see old faces, and new ones too.  

“You know, same old same old. We planted that tree for Chloe. You should have been there it was lovely.” You say suddenly feeling sad. You rallied with the people from A&E who worked with Chloe and you all sponsored a tree for the patients garden.

Her family gave you her ashes. They just turned up on your door one day. You had them made into a rock, then placed it under the tree. You don’t know if that’s what she would have wanted but it felt right. Johnny’s hand rests on your thigh. 

“What about you, you must have more interesting stories then the ones I have from working 12 hours in A&E.” You say smiling and pushing the tears away. 

“Ah yes, we’ve had some adventures I’ll give you that love.” Johnny says as you drive out the car park. You let him talk the whole way, it had been a week since you’d seen them and you were desperate to spend time with them again. When you make it into the flat Simon is there. 

“Thought you wouldn’t be back till late?” Johnny asked as you run into his arms.

“Price said he could handle it.” Simon says before you plant your lips on his.

“How’s civilian life?” Simon asks, you roll your eyes.

“They planted the tree for Chloe.” Johnny says from the kitchen.

“Yeah, how’d it go?” He asks, looking at you. 

“Good, I think she would have liked it.” You reply. Simon nods leading you over to the sofa as Johnny comes over with a bottle of wine and wine glasses. You cuddle up next to Simon as Johnny pours the glasses.

“What’s the latest with the Masons?” You ask. You hadn’t been keeping up with it but Simon and Johnny’s had, they’d been watching them like hawks.

“They’re in court on Monday, we’ll know more then.” Simon says. It took a month or so but finally people were formally arrested. Almost every family member who was in the military had been dishonourably discharged, and there were even talks of the Americans getting involved and also prosecuting the family.

You were warned you would need to go to court to testify, but you didn’t care. Jack killed himself, left a suicide note, seems the family was planning on pushing all the blame on him so they could try and get away with it. His note was pretty damming, it’s been big part of why they were able to get so many of his family.

They’ll lose their house, businesses everything. Most of them are looking at life in prison. You didn’t want to smile but it was good, justice and you would never have to worry about them again. You feel Johnny pull your legs up on him scooting over to sit closer to Simon. It reminded you of the first night you stayed in their flat. A bottle of wine and shitty police chaser shows.

“I reckon e’ll make it.” Johnny says sipping the wine. You turn to look at him smiling. 

“Don’t be silly Johnny.” Simon scoffs. You look up at Simon. 

"I bet he makes it." You smile looking back at the TV. Simon kisses the top of your head. You were glad they were back and back safe.

"I love you." You mumble as you hug Simon.

"Love you too." He says as Johnny's hand strokes your back. You look over at the TV. They caught the guy.

[wlntrsldler]

Hi!! For ur song challenge could you write cinnamon girl with Jamie Tartt 🤍

cinnamon girl | jamie tartt

based on the song cinnamon girl by lana del rey

description: your ex did a number on you. now you're letting the ghosts of your past control your relationship with jamie.

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (she/her)

warnings: language-- it's ted lasso, what did you expect?; sad!jamie, insecurities, miscommunication-ish, emotionally abusive ex

word count: 4.2K

ted lasso requests are open | main masterlist

In your last relationship, your ex constantly made you feel replaceable. At first, it started out as snide remarks from his friends that he laughed at, never once defending you or your relationship. 

“Oh, Y/N, be careful with that one, nobody can tie him down.” 

“He’s slippery, girl. Keep an eye on him.” 

“You’re his girlfriend? Wow, props to ya. I couldn’t ever commit to someone like him.” 

You tried to brush it off, ignoring the sting of his laugh after each comment. He didn’t even deny it. And the worst part? He would make comments comparing you to his exes even without the presence of his friends. You knew how he was. When you first met him, it wasn’t lost on you how he flirted with everyone and everything that would let him. You knew he had history, which you’d later on find out was not history, but more of an ongoing thing, with the people in his inner circle. 

You felt stupid for staying in that relationship for that long. You knew what he was doing and what he was saying wasn’t okay, but you had been stuck in the cycle for so long that you were convinced that nobody else would put up with you the way he does. That was until you accepted a job as a Business Relations Assistant at AFC Richmond. 

It was weird at first to be surrounded by strangers who cared more about your well-being than your partner of a year and a half did. Since Higgins introduced you to the crew, you received “How ya doing, Y/N?” in passing from Sam, hugs as a form of good morning from Dani, and the occasional grunt– complimentary, not derogatory– from Coach Kent. It was simple, little things, but these moments of care and acknowledgment came without an expectation of something in return. They simply wanted to make you feel welcome.

Your love life before dating Jamie was a mystery to the team, Jamie included. They didn’t even know that you were dating someone for so long until Keeley came into the locker room to tell the boys to be extra kind to you since you were going through a breakup. Shaking off their initial shock, the team agreed to shower you with love when they saw you after Isaac gave them an aggressive in tone, yet filled with flowery words about how you were a great addition to the team, pep talk. 

By this point, you and Jamie had built a solid rapport, somewhere between acquaintances and friends. You were courteous when you’d run into each other at Nelson Road, even walking side by side until your paths diverged, often talking about the lovely, or horrific, weather you were having. During bus rides to games, he would sit on the window seat beside Sam, in front of you, and would always ask you to be the tie-breaker for one of his many ridiculous polls. You’d always end up siding with him, not because you agreed, but because Jamie grins up at you like he just won the lottery. Even though you didn’t agree that burgers were better than pizza, you’d say they were just to be on the receiving end of one of Jamie Tartt’s award-winning smiles again. 

It took you a while to open up to people again. Your life revolved around your partner and that meant that many of the friendships you had faded in the background while you were with him. But after the breakup, Keeley and Rebecca played a huge role in helping you step out of your comfort zone. They listened to you talk about your relationship as often as you wanted until you were out of words and out of cares. These talks would happen over a glass (or ten) of wine in Keeley’s living room with some sappy romantic comedy playing on mute in the background. For the most part, you had forgotten about your ex. Soon enough, you were saying yes to invites from Isaac or the coaches for team outings.

That’s how you found yourself kissing Jamie Tartt on your front porch after a night at Ola’s. 

When you pulled away, a goofy smile plastered on your face, you saw Jamie’s flushed cheeks that he tried to hide by pretending to cough into his elbow. You shoved his shoulder playfully, unsure if this was just a cruel dream that you’d have to wake up from soon or if this was real life. 

Jamie, who seemed to be thinking the same thing, realized that this was real life when your hand met his shoulder. Feeling more confident, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer once more. He whispered against your lips, “Been wantin’ to do that for a while.” 

“Yeah?” You asked in shock. You would’ve never guessed that Jamie liked you in that way. “I never noticed.”

“Sam was right,” he chuckled, shaking his head that he was bringing up his teammates while he was inches away from a pretty girl’s face, but he knew he had to tell you this so you knew how serious he was about you. You weren’t just a one-night stand and this wasn't an "I had too many drinks tonight," mistake. “I’ve been flirting with you for ages. Sam said that you were oblivious to it but for a while, I really thought you just didn’t fancy me back. I’m really glad that I was wrong.” 

“I had no idea you liked me.” 

“Are you joking?” he scoffed, grinning widely. It was the same smile he shared with you on many bus rides. “Why do you think I always ask those stupid questions on the bus? I couldn’t give two shits about whether or not the team preferred Chinese or Italian food, or if they put both socks on first and then their shoes, or one sock and one shoe at a time. I only made those up so I had an excuse to talk to ya. Have a whole notes app full of questions and everything.” 

You threw your head back laughing, imagining Jamie deleting questions that he already asked you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “You could’ve just talked to me, you know.” 

“Yeah, but you make me nervous,” he blushed, the tips of his ears turning bright pink. “You’re really pretty and proper fit. Plus, you never call me stupid even when my questions are fucking dumb. You’re always so nice to me and you’re loads of fun.” 

You cocked an eyebrow, trying to make sense of the situation. Jamie Tartt was nervous to talk to you? “Jamie, you do realize you’re a world-class footballer, right? Like rich and famous and can get anyone you want?” 

“That don’t matter to me,” he said, shrugging. “Want you, that’s all.” 

It was a strange feeling to hear that from him. You haven’t been wanted in a long time, at least not like this, not in the way that Jamie was looking at you like you are somehow the most incredible thing he’d ever have the privilege of getting to see. He looked at you like he was thanking whatever deities were responsible for reincarnation for allowing him to experience you in this lifetime. If the next fifty lifetimes were filled with nothing but suffering for him then so be it, as long as he had you in this one. You haven’t been wanted this purely before– wanted for who you are and not for what you can offer, not for the potential of what you could be. 

You kissed him again. 

Six months after your first kiss, you and Jamie were going strong. So far the relationship has been a secret to the public and the media. The team, though, found out a month into your relationship when Jamie got injured during training and you ran out of your office onto the pitch, ignoring Beard’s confused remarks as you sped past him. 

Jamie was lying on the pitch, forearms covering his eyes, trying not to think about the shooting pain from his ankle. You shoved Jan Maas and Richard away from Jamie, which made them protest, but quickly understood why you were in such a hurry to get to Jamie. You kneeled beside him, running your fingers through his hair. 

“Hi, baby,” you whispered, “You doing okay? How bad does it hurt?” 

He moved his arms at the sound of your voice. His eyes met yours and he immediately reached for your hand, threading your fingers together. “‘M okay, I think. Ankle hurts like a bitch, though.” 

You continued to tend to him as much as you could but quickly remembered that you two weren’t alone. Your eyes widened as you began to look around the circle that was forming around you and Jamie. 

“Fuuuuuuccckkkkk,” Jamie mumbled, realizing that you two now revealed your relationship to the team. He looked at you apologetically, “Sorry, bub.” 

“Oi, Bumbercatch!” The team’s attention shifted over to Isaac who had a smirk on his face. He held out his open palm, “You owe me ten pounds.” 

The team erupted in cheers, almost forgetting that Jamie was indeed hurt and would probably have to sit out a game or two. You looked down at Jamie and shrugged your shoulders, “Seems like they’re taking it well.” 

He laughed, propping himself up to sit up, “I’m glad we told them.” 

“Me too,” you replied, pressing your lips together. 

“I’m going to fucking gouge my eyes out.” You heard Roy say, though there was a hint of a smile in his voice. In sync, you and Jamie held up your middle finger in Roy’s direction, which earned the both of you a signature Roy Kent grunt in return. 

Much like your reveal to the team, your reveal to the general public was also just an accident. You were spending the weekend at Jamie’s flat as part of your six-month anniversary celebration. You just pulled up to his place, using one hand to unlock his door with the key he had made for you, and the other hand was used to carry in your large duffle bag. You heard him speaking in his living room and assumed that he was on a call with one of the lads. 

“Baby, I’m here!” You called out loudly, hanging your coat on his coat rack by the door. You walked toward his living room to find him staring at you wide-eyed, jaw hanging low. You giggled, “What’s wrong, love?” 

“I’m on Instagram live.” 

“Oh shit,” You mirrored his expression, facepalming. “I’m so sorry.” 

On Jamie’s screen, hundreds of comments about the interaction began to pop up. 

Holy shit???? Who was that?!!!

Jamie has a girlfriend!!!!! NOOOO THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!!

Does that voice sound familiar to u guys? I think that’s Y/N, I recognize her voice from Keeley’s stories. 

Jamie looked at you, trying to figure out what the best course of action was. You tilted your head as if asking, “Should we just do it?” He nodded, a huge smile taking over his features. 

“Well,” he began. “Cat’s out of the bag, I suppose. Get in here, love.” 

You spent the next thirty minutes answering questions from his fans on Instagram live. Some of the team even joined for a few minutes to fangirl over your relationship in the comments which made the two of you laugh. The next day, Jamie decided that it was time to make your relationship Instagram official by posting a photo from your anniversary dinner. It was a picture that cut off right above your lips, still giving a hint of anonymity, although many people already knew. You had your glass of wine in a cheers motion with his own. The caption read: “just us two. happy six.” 

The picture got more than two million likes in the first hour and hundreds of comments speculating who the girl in the picture was. You decided to comment on the post the day after, hoping that most of the hype around it was calming down. You rolled over Jamie’s side of the bed, smiling softly as he slept peacefully. 

You commented, “just us two (and the entire afc richmond team, including the coaches and admin) (so really just us two and fifty people). love you beyond words.”

You stayed in your little bubble of love for the rest of the weekend. After your social media launch, you stayed off the internet until you got back to work on Monday. When you finally checked social media, you were surprised to find that most of the public’s opinion of your and Jamie’s relationship was positive. However, there was one tweet that caught your eye. 

“Y/N Y/L/N is strong tbh. If my partner had the history of Jamie Tartt, I’d sleep with one eye open to keep an eye on him.” 

You frowned. You knew Jamie wasn’t like that. He would never do that to you, at least not now. He talked to you about how he used to be before you met him. He talked about how shit of a boyfriend he was to Keeley, how he was too much of a prick to be friends with the lads, but he also talked about how he grew from that and how he was no longer that person. And you believed him. It’s Jamie, of course, you believed him.

But that didn’t stop those voices in your head from taking over. Voices that sounded an awful lot like your ex’s friends who made those sly remarks. Voices that told you that you were replaceable. Voices that told you Jamie could do better, that Jamie should have better. Voices that drowned out the loving words of your boyfriend who loved you so much it hurt. 

The distance started out subtle. It started with telling Jamie that you had to get to Richmond earlier than normal because you had expenditure reports to look over. He even suggested that he'd go to Nelson Road extra early for you, but you refused. He pouted but reluctantly agreed to let you drive yourself to work instead of him picking you up. Jamie was upset that he no longer got to spend his mornings with you, but he was understanding and knew that it was for your job. 

Then, you started cutting your kisses short. During date nights, which used to be filled with lingering kisses that were surely too heated to be deemed acceptable PDA, you started to give Jamie quick pecks on the lips before pulling away. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he let it go and settled for the short kisses, even though it didn’t feel enough for him. Typically, you’d spend the night at his place after your dates, but recently you’ve been asking him to take you home, blaming the expenditure reports once more. Jamie, trying to be ever-so-understanding, drove you home, and slept in his own bed alone with a frown on his face. 

The final blow for Jamie was when you didn’t sit next to him on the bus to Tottenham. He sat patiently on the aisle seat, craning his neck up to see when you were coming in, as he knew you preferred the window seat. His eyes lit up when you entered the bus, smiling widely as you approached him. 

You refused to look him in the eye as you pointed toward the back of the bus, “Sorry, Jamie. Rebecca wants to talk about something so I think I’m gonna sit with her today.” 

“Oh,” he cleared his throat, trying not to show his disappointment. He didn’t want to force you to sit next to him. Of course, you were allowed to sit with Rebecca. It’s just that he missed you so much. He hasn’t seen you in a few days. You’ve barely replied to his texts. He felt like you were slipping away and he didn’t know what to do. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course. I’ll see you at the hotel, yeah?” 

You nodded, offering him a small smile. He smiled back sadly. When you walked away to sit in the back of the bus, Sam nudged him, asking him to scoot over so he could sit next to him. Jamie felt nauseous, and he blamed it on the fact that he hadn’t sat by the window in months, but he knew the real reason why. 

Throughout the entire bus ride, you kept sneaking glances at Jamie. You couldn’t see him too well being so far back in the bus. Rebecca, who was shocked to see you beside her instead of your boyfriend, was looking at you with a questioning expression. She closed the notebook she was writing in and crossed her arms. 

“Alright, spill,” she tutted, leaning back in her chair. “Why aren’t you sitting with Jamie? What has he done?” 

You shook your head, “Nothing. He hasn’t done anything.” 

“Then why do you look like the living sunlight was sucked right out of you?” You didn’t say anything. Rebecca sighed, rubbing your back comfortingly, “Whatever is happening. You need to talk to him about it. Nothing good is going to come out of you keeping things from him. Trust me.” 

You knew what Rebecca was saying was reasonable. It makes sense to talk to Jamie about things that were bothering you. The thing was, you had already convinced yourself that Jamie would be better off with anyone else but you. It’s not that you thought Jamie would ever cheat on you or compare you to his exes because that’s not Jamie. You knew this. But you couldn’t help but think about Jamie realizing he deserved better than you. 

It will only make things easier on you if you mentally prepare yourself for it. It was inevitable. After all, you were replaceable. 

By the time you arrived in Tottenham, you were feeling more anxious than ever. You knew you were sharing a room with Jamie as it became an unspoken rule since you first told the team about your relationship. You watched as Jamie exited the bus, trailing behind to create as much space between the two of you as possible. After Higgins distributed the keys, you took a deep breath and headed to the lifts. 

Jamie had gone ahead with Sam and Dani since you were standing to the side with Rebecca. In the elevator, Rebecca squeezed your hand in support and offered a kiss on your temple. When you arrived on the 10th floor, you waved goodbye to Rebecca and made your way to the room. 

Jamie was quietly unpacking his things when you walked in. He turned around, eyebrows furrowed and a frown tugging on the corners of his lips. You wanted to walk over and kiss the creases on his forehead away. He cleared his throat, “I can take the couch if ya want so you can have the bed. I know you’ve been working hard on those reports so you deserve a good night’s sleep.” 

“It’s alright, Jamie. I can take the couch. You have a game tomorrow that you need to be well-rested for.” 

“No, it’s fine,” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He sounded defeated. “‘M not letting you sleep on the couch. You can take the bed and I can just stay with Isaac or Richard or something.” 

“No, Jamie, this is your room.” You said, standing your ground. 

“No it’s not!” He exclaimed, finally reaching his wit’s end. He stared at you, a look of frustration and brokenness evident on his face. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears from breaking free. “It’s our room! And I just... I just don’t understand what I’ve done wrong. What have I done wrong?”

You took two hesitant strides towards him. Jamie looked at you, hopeful that you’ll touch him again, this time without him making the first move. He missed feeling you draw sweet nothings on his skin with your fingers. Or the feeling of your lips on his jaw as you try to wake him up in the morning. Or the feeling of your arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace. 

You stopped short in front of him. His heart dropped. “You haven’t done anything, Jamie.” 

“So why do you keep pulling away? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages. Like a proper conversation. I haven’t kissed ya in days and it’s killing me. I feel like I’m losing you.” 

It was then, with Jamie staring at you with pleading eyes, that you realized how stupid you were being. You ran to him, broken sobs escaping your body, as he stumbled back, unsure of what was happening. Jamie engulfed you in his arms, kissing your head as he tried to console you. You spoke into his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Jamie.” 

“Hey,” he cooed, pulling you away. He led you to the bed to sit you down. You sat criss-crossed on the bed, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You didn’t even want to imagine how much of a mess you must look like right now. He reached over to place a hand on your thigh, rubbing circles to help you calm down. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, hm? What’s the matter?” 

“I’ve been such a dick to you,” you confessed, sniffling silently. You placed a hand on top of his, giving it a light squeeze, “I’ve been avoiding you.” 

“Yeah, I gathered that,” he tried to joke, offering you one of those award-winning smiles you were a goner for. “But what I don’t know is why. Talk to me, please.” 

“D’ya remember when Keeley told you guys to be extra nice to me because I’d just broken up with someone?” 

Confused, Jamie nodded his head. “Yeah?” 

“Well, there are things I want to say to you, but I don’t really like talking about it. Took me ages to even open up to Keeley and Rebecca about how bad it was,” you trailed off, looking away. You suddenly felt so small under Jamie’s gaze, like you were unscrewing the top of your head to give him a full view of all the fucked up things in there. You felt so exposed, but you knew you couldn’t keep this from him anymore. It was affecting him now, too. “My ex, he used to do this thing that kind of fucked me up really bad. He used to compare me to his ex-girlfriends and it made me feel like shit. His friends used to make these jokes about how he was a playboy and would probably get tired of me soon or would make condescending comments about me staying with him because they knew nobody could really tie him down. Like I was stupid for being with him or something.” 

Jamie frowned, internalizing your words. He looked down on his lap, lip quivering, “You think I’m like that? Like I’m just playin’ with ya?” 

Your eyes widened. You quickly shook your head, “No, not at all! I just… I was with him for over a year and when you hear those things said about you enough times, you start believing them. I got in my head thinking that you could and should do better than me and it made me pull away from you.” 

Jamie remained quiet, but the expression on his face changed to a more neutral one. You continued, “I figured it would be easier for you to come to the conclusion that you deserve more than me if I gave you the space, you know? I was trying to help you realize that I’m replaceable, but it backfired on me because now you think you did something wrong– which you absolutely haven’t.” 

He sat there, not saying a word, trying to comprehend what you just told him. He blinked, “Babe, that’s absolutely mad.” 

You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape your lips as a teasing smile made its way to Jamie’s face. He followed suit before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down to lie on the bed with him. He rolled the both of you over so he was hovering on top of you. Jamie nudged your nose with his, “Don’t get me wrong, your feelings are valid. I would kill that prick and his twat friends if you let me, but love, you are everything I’ve ever wanted. You are not replaceable to me.” 

“It’s just hard to hear you when there’s so much nonsense noise in my head, you know?” you whispered, holding his face in the palm of your hand. “Sometimes those pesky voices are just so loud.” 

“Well,” he got up off of you and propped himself next to you. He gave you a cheeky smirk before leaning back. Then in the loudest voice he could manage, he yelled, “I love you! I love you! I love you, Y/N Y/L/N! There is nobody else for me. I love yo-” 

Fearing that he wouldn’t stop anytime soon, you covered his mouth with your hand, laughing loudly at how ridiculous the whole situation was. Jamie’s eyes twinkled with something you’d missed over the last few days and the sound of his muffled chuckles was like music to your ears. You removed your hand from his mouth. 

“Loud enough, do ya reckon?” he joked. Then, he looked at you seriously. He inched closer to you, sighing in relief when you didn’t pull away. “But seriously, love. Whenever those voices come creepin’ back in, just let me know, yeah? Talk to me. I don’t think I can handle another day like that again. It was my own personal hell, to be honest.” 

You wiped the tears from your eyes and nodded. You placed your lips on Jamie’s, allowing your kiss to last as long as possible before you had to pull away for air. You snuggled against him, basking in the scent of his cologne. “I promise I will, Jamie. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

[gallavichsreddie1128]

“Friend” (Will Graham)

Description: Will keeps telling Y/N that Hannibal is trying to destroy their marriage but she doesn’t believe him.

Word Count: 1,826

Request: Could you please write a oneshot featuring Will Graham and a female reader? the reader has a best friend who everyone believes is her romantic partner instead of Will. (Like they're so close everyone ships them with eachother.) This friend even attempts to win the reader over, creating tension between them. will she remain faithful to Will, or will she succumb to her friend's advances? it’s entirely up to you, I remember a fic of yours where Will cheated on the reader with Hannibal, and it left me in tears—it’s entirely up to you be interesting to flip the script and let Will experience the angst this time around. Sorry my bad English it's not my first Language.

Author’s Note: I carried this one on and I might make a part two.

It was a strange feeling that Will had, one that he could not shake. He’s had this feeling for years even before he and Y/N got married. Hannibal Lecter was one of her best friends and has been since before she met Will. It was something that bothered Will and it wasn’t because he was jealous of him or anything like that, Hannibal wasn’t so sneaky with his attempts to get Y/N away from Will. Y/N was so blinded by the love she had for him, even if it was platonic, that she didn’t realize that Hannibal was trying to get her to leave Will. “You’re crazy, Will. He’s helping with the case.” She would tell him, denying that her best friend was just as in love with her as Will was.

Everyone who came across them thought that they were a couple but seemed surprised when she reveals that she’s married to someone else. Alana assured Will that even if that was Hannibal’s intention she would never fall for that. Y/N and Hannibal were at the crime scene before Will, he wasn’t sure what they were doing before he got there but they were not studying. She was laughing at something he said and it was not related to the crime scene. Her laugh rang through the area and it made Will mad. She shouldn’t be laughing with him like that, especially at work. She kissed Will when he arrived and he could tell that Hannibal hated that. Will looked at him smugly after they kissed before getting to work. 

Will looked at her like she was crazy as she told him that she was going to Hannibal’s for dinner. “You and him alone?” She rolled her eyes and huffed, “We are best friends Will, you’ve never had an issue with it before he started working on the case with us.” She exclaimed but Will shook his head. He’s always had an issue with it but it was worse now that Hannibal was working with them. “Yeah because it’s become more obvious that he’s into you.” She laughed at his words and got up from the chair. “I don’t know why you are so insecure, Will. I married you, not him.” Maybe that was the issue. Will couldn’t believe that she was turning down his feelings about him because she was blind to what he was doing. This was why he couldn’t tell her that wasn’t the only suspicion he had about Hannibal. Y/N left without saying goodbye to him and drove to Hannibal’s. 

Hannibal watched as his best friend ate and hummed at how good the food and wine were. Something she never got with Will. He looked down at his plate when she looked at him to tell him how ridiculous Will was being. “Will thinks you are trying to get with me and break him and I up.” She said it with humor in her voice like she could not believe that. “So he’s jealous?” Hannibal asked and she nodded. He was thankful that she still didn’t see that he was actively trying to break them up. Will was going to be a problem..

If he puts it in her head and she realizes it, Hannibal won’t be in the picture anymore. “That’s ridiculous. I wouldn’t need to do that.” That should have set off red flags but it didn’t. She moved on, not wanting to shit talk her husband. “Say how’s things with Alana going?” She asked with a teasing tone. He smiled at her and told her that everything was good. Alana didn’t see what Will was talking about but she didn’t look too close, they weren’t very serious. “I’m glad you found a lady.” Little did she know that Lady was her. 

They got drunk off of wine and laughed on the couch, Will not even on her mind. She was so mad at him and refused to be in the same house as him right now. “I’m glad you’re staying. Reminds me of old times.” He told her and she smiled at all the memories they had before she got married. Gosh why did it sound like she wasn’t happy now. “Yeah, good times.” She whispered and looked at her best friend, who was staring at her. “Ya know I would never get jealous over your friend.” He tells her and in her drunk mind she agrees with him. “Probably.” “I would never act like an insecure boy.” Everything he said he got closer to her and when she looked up at him, he was face to face with her.

Her eyes widened a bit, “What are you doing?” She asked as his lips tried to touch hers but she pulled away. She had a confused look as he tried to kiss her again. “Hannibal-” “You should have married me instead.” He told her and she stood up and swayed a little bit thanks to the wine. Will had been right and she turned him away. She shouldn’t have drank as much as she did or even come tonight. “Will was right.” She said as Hannibal stood up. “Smart one.” He said and she shook her head. “I told him he was crazy and ridiculous and even insecure but he was right.” She hated herself in this moment for not believing him and not seeing that Hannibal was trying to destroy her relationship. She looked up at him, “I was so blinded that I couldn’t see what type of person you’d become.” “Always been.” He didn’t seem ashamed or upset that he had been caught, like he was holding onto some hope that she could still change her mind.

“It’s why you signed onto the case, so you could try this?” Hannibal wouldn’t deny that was part but they also can’t catch him if he works on the case. “Sure.” She shook her head and turned away from him. “I can’t even ask you to take me home either, not that you would.” “If that is what you want, you can call Will.” She turned to him shocked that he wasn’t putting up a fight. “You’re okay with me leaving?” “He has you now but once you realize who he is you’ll be back in my arms.” “Who is he?” She asked and her eyes widened when he told her. “He’s the Chesapeake ripper.” No proof or anything she thought and this was just a way to get her to fall into his arms. “I don’t believe that.” She growls and takes her phone to call Will. “You don’t have to but just like you were blind to what I was doing. You’ll be blind to what he was doing too.” She walked away as the phone rang.

Will answered it in a sleepy voice that could have made her smile if it were any other situation, “Will, you were right about Hannibal.” Her soft voice, filled with sadness, rang through the phone. “What gave it away?” He asked. She sighed, “He tried to kiss me and told me that I should have married him after we got drunk.” She told him. “Do you need me to come get you?” He asked, getting out of bed and putting on his shoes. “If you’ll still have me.” That made him smile, of course he would still have her. “Always.” Hannibal was no longer in the living room with her as she grabbed her coat to wait outside for Will.

She wondered back to when her and Will started dating and tried to find moments that Hannibal tried to get with her and she was just oblivious. Maybe Will would tell her when he noticed it. She looked at the house that she just walked out of in tears, she no longer had the best friend she thought she could trust. She waited in the cold before Will’s car pulled up and she let out a sigh of relief. She ran up to the car and got in feeling better than she had this entire day. Will looked over at her with a sad smile, understanding that it must hurt to finally see the man Hannibal truly is. Hannibal stood at the window, watching them leave as he thought of his next move. 

The car ride was silent but it wasn’t awkward. She started laughing as she thought of something Hannibal said to her before she left. Will looked over at her with a confused look, “Are you still drunk?” He asked and she shook her head. “Hannibal tried to tell me that you were the killer we were after.” She told him. Will didn’t say anything as she continued to laugh. He thought about telling her that he thinks Hannibal is the killer that they were after. She looked at him and noticed that he wasn’t laughing or even looked amused.

“Are you okay?” She asked. He looked over at her, “I never thought I would be telling you this but I think he’s the killer we are after.” Her face dropped at his words. “Will, just because he tried to ruin our marriage doesn’t mean he’s a killer. He let me go after I rejected him.” She told him. “Yeah for now.” She looked down and thought about it. Was there any signs that he’s a killer? Is that the reason he wanted on the case? She was so lost in thought she hadn’t realized that they were home until he stopped the car. He put his hand on her thigh and sighed, “I know I put you in a tough place with that but I wanted to tell you so many times but you would have laughed at me and called me crazy.” She nodded, knowing that before this night she would have. “Can’t you tell Jack or anyone about this?” She asked and he shook his head, “Nobody would believe me without evidence.” She looked around the car in thought, thinking of what to do.

An idea came to her head that was so crazy and so insane that she couldn’t believe she was about to offer it. She looked at Will who was waiting for her to say something. “Take me back.” “Why?” He asked, not liking this already. “I can act like I chose him over you and find evidence and catch him in the act. Make him think that I love him and that we were nothing all along.” Will didn’t look at her like she was crazy but he didn’t give into the idea either. “Y/N, he’s really smart, are you sure that you can trick him?” She grabbed his hand and turned to him, “If anyone can trick him, it’s me.” She said. Will was hesitant but started the car again. Y/N felt nervous and shaky as her husband drove her back to Hannibal’s where she would give her best performance and if it was a movie she’d win the oscar.

[lokilaufeysonslove]

okok hear me out. enemies to lovers bucky x reader but they are undercover fake dating. reader gets hurt during a ballroom part (🤭) and bucky is all like "dont scare me like that again" and sksjenxiwofnwnfoan im sorry if that's too specific

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

// Summary // you and Bucky are on an undercover mission, pretending to be a couple. You loathe each other from the bottom of your hearts. But things change when you are injured.

// Warnings // injury, mentions of blood, cursing (cuz it’s Bucky we’re talking about), outfit description.

// Author’s Note // @dethspllz I’m glad you asked this, because I was going to write this kind of thing anyway. I’m sorry it took me two days to answer. Anyway, I hope you like it / divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @falcvns

You never thought you would end up in this situation. Being undercover with your sworn enemy, Bucky Barnes. The mission was simple, infiltrate a high-class ballroom party and gather intel on a dangerous organization. But the catch? You had to pretend to be dating Bucky, who you had a love-hate relationship with.

As you walked into the grand ballroom, your heart raced with nerves. You were wearing a stunning red dress and Bucky looked dashing in a tuxedo. "Remember, we have to act like a couple. No slipping up," Bucky whispered in your ear, making your skin tingle.

"I know, I know," you replied, trying to keep your cool. You were not a fan of formal events, and the thought of you having to dance with Bucky all night was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole.

But you put on a smile and followed Bucky's lead as he greeted the other guests and introduced you as his girlfriend. You couldn't help but notice the way his arm wrapped around your waist possessively, and how his touch sent shivers down your spine.

As the night went on, you and Bucky had to dance together and mingle with the guests. You couldn't deny that Bucky was a great dancer, and his charm was undeniable. But every time he whispered in your ear or touched your hand, you couldn't help but feel flustered.

It wasn't until you were alone, taking a break from dancing, that things took a turn. Bucky seemed a bit tense.

“Relax, Barnes. We're just here to dance and gather information," you said, trying to ease his tension.

He scoffed, "I can't relax when you're wearing that dress. It is distracting me."

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was just trying to get under your skin. "Just focus on our mission, Barnes," you replied, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up your cheeks.

Bucky put his arm around your waist, pulling you close. "You know, for enemies, we make a pretty convincing couple," he said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes again. "Let's just focus on the mission," you replied, trying to keep your emotions in check.

But just as you were about to head back into the party, a gunshot rang out. Chaos erupted as everyone started running and screaming, and in a blink of an eye, you and Bucky were surrounded by a group of armed guards.

You rushed towards them, pulling out your gun and firing at the guards. Bucky looked at you as you took out the rest of the guards, your training kicking in. But then, you felt a sharp pain in your side. You looked down to see blood seeping through your dress.

Bucky immediately sprang into action, taking down rest of the attackers and rushing to your side. His face contorted in panic as he caught you before you fell to the ground. "Shit, Y/n, you're hit!" he exclaimed, his hands frantically trying to stop the bleeding. You could see the worry and fear in his eyes, and for a moment, you forgot that this was all just an act.

He gathered you in his arms and carried you to a secluded room, away from all the commotion, where he carefully tended to your wound.

"You know, for someone who can’t stand me, you sure are taking care of me pretty well," you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Bucky smirked, but his eyes were still filled with worry. "I may have hated you at first, but now I doubt it," he admitted, his voice sincere. "You scared the hell out of me, Y/n. Don't ever do that shit again."

You couldn't help but smile at the concern in his voice. "I won't, Bucky. I promise," you replied.

He smiled softly, and leaned down, capturing your soft lips into a longing kiss. You were taken aback by his behavior, but kissed him back nonetheless. Your lips were moving in a perfect sync, as if they were made for each other. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. He wrapped his around your waist, brining you closer, if that was even possible.

You pulled away in the need of oxygen, both of you smiling like a little children who were given candies.

Maybe fake dating wasn’t so bad after all.

[luvfy0dor]

Hi there! First of all I wanna say that I like your writing very much and that you're doing a good job! Thanks you for your hard work!

My requets/scenario is something about the reader (GN or fem.) who is sick/ feverish and due to that dehydrated and refused to take her meds. So the BSD boys (already fed up with your whining about feeling sick and annoyed and they just want to help you feel better blahblahblah...) take the pills and water into their owb mouth and kisstge reader to maje them take their pills. And maybe romantic feelings are already in the air yet no one had the balls to say something yet? And afterwards saying something like "Swallow" or "Come on, be good" to make th reader swallow?

If possible with Chuuya, PM Dazai ( i don't think one can piss ADA Dazai off SO much he'd act like this XD) and with someone else you could think of or like to write for.

Thank youuuu!

"C'mon, be good..." BSD x GN!Reader

╰┈➤ PM!Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor ༉‧₊˚✧

Description; PM/Beast!Dazai, Chuuya, and Fyodor with sick reader who just absolutely refuses to take meds.

Warnings; Maybe ooc in Dazais part? I've only read vol.1 of beast : (, cursing

A/N; I started writing this yesterday morning and I just got sick today (update it was just allergies it went away after a couple hours) what a coincidence!? Also tyssm for the compliment!! Ahh it means the world to me when y'all like my stuff!! ♡

Chuuya Nakahara ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chuuya is a busy man, and when you refuse to take your pills, you're only wasting the time that he sets aside for you by being difficult. He's gonna take care of you, and you're gonna like it too. (Who wouldn't?)

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"C'mon, I'm not gonna sit here and listen to your whining. It's just a pill, put it in your mouth and swallow it!" Chuuya exasperatedly says, flailing his arms as he talks. The bottle of pills makes a rattling sound in his hands as they move around. You just scoff, keeping your arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Maybe, but it feels so weird going down my throat and I don't like it!" You say, your voice groggy and your nose sniffly from your cold. Your eyes were half lidded as you frowned at Chuuya. "Oh, and you like being sniffly 'nd having a headache?" He says with a roll of the eyes, putting his hands on his hips.

You thought for a moment. No, ofcourse you didn't like this feeling, but you also really didn't like taking pills. Chuuya had even tried offering the liquid medicine, but you didn't want that either because the kind he had for you tasted bad. You slumped back into the couch you were sitting on, huddling the blanket up to your chest.

You sigh before shaking your head. "No, I don't." Chuuya nods. "So take the pills, here." He hands you water and the pills themselves. You stared them down for a moment. They looked utterly massive in your palm and you could already feel the fish oil-y substance sliding down your throat. You gagged, bringing your hand up to your mouth. You groan.

"For God's sake, are ya gonna take it or not?" He mumbles. "You know I don't wanna sit here and waste time arguing with your stupid ass." He says, pinching the bridge of his nose. You smiled, knowing he really didn't mean it. "Oh, or what? What if I don't take it?" Chuuya props his head up on his fist while glaring at you.

"Or else I'm gonna shove it down your throat and make you swallow it." He sighs, hearing you snicker a little. "Great wording, Chuuya. Well then, hurry up, I'm waiting." You raise your eyebrows playfully. He rubs his face with his hands exasperatedly. "You know I'm not being serious." He murmurs.

"Aw, why not?" You tilt your head teasingly. "Why do you want me to?" You averted your eyes, not having an answer. You shrugged.

"Dunno, it's just...a very you thing to do, so I'm just wondering what discouraged you." He sits up.

"Well, because you're my..." He thinks for a moment. "Really close friend, and I care about you 'nd stuff..." He says, very faintly blushing while averting his eyes. Had you not been around Chuuya so much, it would have gone completely unnoticed, but unfortunately for him, you had seen. And boy, were you gonna let him know.

"Aww, so you DO care! And here I thought you were just....angry." You tease. He scoffs. "C'mon, you're the very first to know that my temper isn't my only personality trait." He gets up from his seat, grabbing the pill and holding it up to your lips with one hand, water in the other. "Take it. Now." He says, looking into your eyes as he's bent down to your level while you lean back into the couch cushions.

"Chuuya, I told you I don't want to." He pushes the pill against your lips some more. "You clearly do, all day you've bitched and moaned about your headache, your temperature, your runny nose, and your sore throat. I'm done hearin' about it!" He glares at you. "C'mon and just take it, it'll be over before you know it."

You shake your head and turn it away from Chuuya, bringing the blanket up to guard your lips. He sighs, so fed up. You watch Chuuya take the pill into his own mouth, filling it with water before he roughly grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours. You're shocked, both by Chuuyas bold action, but also by the feeling of the pill in your mouth, slowly snaking down your throat as he pulls away.

"Ya swallowed it, right?" His face is a little softer now, but still seeming a little agitated. You nod. "Open up 'nd show me." You hesitate for a minute before opening your mouth. He inspects for a second before nodding. "Alright...Jesus, that was so hard for no reason." He runs his fingers through his hair, fanning himself with his hat. "It's so hot in here too...s'not just me, right? Why're you being so quiet?" He says, looking over at you as he pants a bit, his heart beating loudly in his chest. You just stare at him, a bit awestruck.

"Chuuya." Your fingers go up to softly brush over your lips. "You..just kissed me. What do you mean 'why're you so quiet'?" You say with a soft laugh, mocking his voice at the end of your sentence. His eyes widen, as if he were completely unaware of his actions. Instead of blushing or trying to excuse himself, all he did was shrug. "Well, I mean I know you're in love with me, it's real easy to see." He says, a grin creeping onto his face, making you blush.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.." you laugh. Chuuya seemed pensive for a second, examining you while standing on the other side of the small room.

PM/Beast!Dazai Osamu ੈ✩‧₊˚

PM!Dazai is absolutely going to get this pill into your system, even if he has to shove it up your ass. Brotha is determined, and he's not gonna give up, so kissing you to get it down your throat was absolutely not off the table. As a matter of fact, it was probably one of his first choices...

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You hoist yourself up onto Dazais desk, shifting around and making yourself comfortable. The soft glow of the lamp illuminating the room, allowing you to observe smaller details, such as the marbled pattern in the floor tiles. After a few seconds, you hear the door open, the sound echoing in the relatively open space.

The fabric of your best friends black coat swayed behind him while he walked. You watched him approach the desk, a faint smile on his face. "Here, I brought you meds and water." He says, setting the pill bottles down on the hard wood surface. He notices the grimace on your face as you pick up the bottle and observe it. "Don't worry, they're the correct ones. I'm not trying to kill you." He says with a playful eyeroll.

You shake your head. "No, you're right, they're correct I just...ew, they're so...big." Dazai watches your facial expressions change intently as you study the pills. He sighs softly. "You'll live, these are prescribed to help people, not kill them. They'll go right down your throat, I promise." He says, sitting in one of his chairs, crossing one leg over the other.

"Well yeah but..." You say, sniffling. "There's nothing smaller...?" Dazai shakes his head. "Nope, that's all we got, so either take it or don't." He shrugs a little. You just give him a small glare. "If you chose not to take them, I don't wanna hear a single complaint from that big mouth you've got." Your friend says, twirling his finger a little as he passive aggressively points at you.

You just sigh and sip on the water her brought you. "Hey, that's supposed to be for taking that medicine." He says, his furrowed eyebrows really displaying his expression of annoyance. You continue sipping on the water until it's gone and completely empty. You can almost see steam coming out of his ears after that. He quickly gets up, walking over to the desk, and snatching the glass from the surface, angrily marching out.

You knew he'd be back, he has never angrily marched away from you for long. You just assumed he did it for dramatic effect at this point. A couple moments later, the doors swing open and Dazai walks in, his pace a little less aggressive but certainly faster. After closing the door, he walks up to you, shaking the pills out of the bottle until one was in his hands. He put the pill on his tongue before filling his mouth with water and roughly grabbing the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss.

You were caught FAR off guard. You had an inkling of a feeling that your feelings for your best friend were requited and not one sided as you previously thought, but now you were reassured. You leaned into the kiss, not even caring about the pill that was currently in your mouth. Dazai tilts your head back right before pulling away. "Swallow, got it?" He says firmly, his hand still placed on the back of your head. You nod right before swallowing the pill, suppressing a cough afterwards.

You deeply inhaled and exhaled seemingly desperately, almost gasping for air, considering your relatively sniffly nose. Once you caught your breath, the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls as you speak. "Good going, dumbass, now you're gonna get sick too..." You sniffle some more while blushing at the memory of Dazais action.

He just laughs for a moment, then shrugs. "Well, if I get sick I won't be a brat to you and refuse to take my pills, especially if you so kindly go out of your way to get them for me." You just scoff and roll your eyes. "Oh yeah, so far out of your way, fifty feet down the hallway is an utter journey, I'm sure." You reply back snarkily.

"Oh, it was." He says exaggeratedly. You just laugh a bit under your breath, examining the pill bottle again. "They better be miracle pills and cure you immediately after the struggle I put up to get them down your throat." He says, staring at you. "Well at least I know you care 'bout my safety." You give him a small smile, to which he reciprocates.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ੈ✩‧₊˚

Fyodor has so kindly offered to take care of you in your vulnerable moment of need, and he hoped you would be appreciative of that, but your unwillingness to take your pills does not really reassure his hope.

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Sniffles. Sniffles were all the filled the room the two of you sat in, you curled up in a blanket and Fyodor reading a book on a couch on the other side of the room. Most of the time, he had kept his distance from you because of your insistence on keeping him in good health. "Ugh, this is so annoying." You whined, rolling around in your blanket, your body language displaying just how fed up with this whole cold you were. You can hear a sigh from Fyodor, as will as the sound of his book closing.

"Well, y/n, I offered you pills and you have continuously refused to take them." He says, his face blank as he crosses his legs and rests his book on his lap. You just let out a soft whine. "Well yeah but....those pills are nasty, they're so big, I'll throw up before I can even try to feel better." You mumble, exasperatedly rubbing your face, pulling a bit at your skin. You can feel Fyodor staring at you from afar.

"Then I suppose you're not going to feel better as quickly as you potentially could." He replies, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and re-opening his book. "Well yeah, but like...well, in my defense you weren't very forceful about it." You say, trying to justify your actions. His attention turns back to you again.

"Oh, did you want me to be? I figured I wouldn't be forceful or push it onto you because you're very close to me." He says, almost as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your heart couldn't help but flutter the tiniest but, a small smile coming over your face. "Well, I'm definitely gonna be more likely to take them if you're a little more insistent." You mumble a bit, to which he sighs, setting his book down once more and grabbing the pill bottle. He makes his way back over to you, holding the pill up to your mouth.

"Go on." He says, waiting for you to take the pill into your mouth, but you just grimace at it. "Okay, maybe I'm just not gonna take them.." you say, gagging at the idea. Fyodor just shakes his head. "You have to. As much as I don't want to force you to, I want you to feel better and stop complaining." He says softly. His face matches his words, not a single sharp edge or expression to either. He was gentle. You groan at the pill some more, earning yet another sigh from him.

"Okay." He shakes his head before placing the pill on his tongue and taking some of the water into his mouth. "Hey, what're you-" you're cut off by Fyodor softly pulling you into a kiss, passing the water and pill from his mouth to yours. After it's completely in your mouth, he pulls away but tilts your head back by guiding your chin upwards with his pointer finger. "Swallow." He mutters, watching your flustered facial expressions. You swallow the pill and water with a 'gulp' and stutter over your words a bit before you can get them completely out.

"That was really your method of choice?" You mutter, hiding your blushing face with your the back of your hand. He raises an eyebrow. "Is that not what you wanted me to do?" You rapidly shake your head. "No, no! I just...I don't even know, thank you...for helping me take my pills..and kissing me, 'nd stuff..." You mumble, a bit embarrassed but so giddy at the same time. He just smiles a bit and rubs your back gently.

"You're welcome. You're an open book for the most part, y/n. Very easy to read." He says softly, before reclaiming his seat on the couch. "Now, I don't want to raise my chances of myself getting sick, or else I would sit with you." He says, grabbing his book again. "Yeah, alright...fair." you mutter, still a little excited over the whole thing. You giggle a bit to yourself and he hears it, he can't help but smile ever so slightly in amusement.