#[ sobBING IT WAS A SHITTY DRABBLE ]

[wnbnny]

gone - b.c

genre: angst, breakup

synopsis: you shouldn't have married me. the words rang in your head, eyes widening ever so slightly as your fragile heart finally shattered like a piece of glass, the final blow delivered by chan's words.

word count: 0.4k (short drabble)

author's note: just a short drabble to keep y'all entertained while i write my longer fics:]

"why can't you just leave me alone??" chan was on the brink of exhaustion, and you nagging at him was not helping at all.

"chan-" you began, but was cut off by him almost immediately. "no! you tell me to sleep every single day, you call me 15 times in one day, you won't let me have even a single fucking second to myself!" chan's hands gripped at his hair as he yelled, gesturing around wildly.

"i just tell you to take care of yourself! you stay up until 3am in the morning, never eat and starve yourself, you never even say a fucking goodbye in the morning when you leave!" you yelled, lips wobbling as you felt all the pent-up emotions starting to expand, rising and rising until it was pushing against the walls of your heart and threatening to explode.

"do you know how shitty it feels to have a fucking husband that feels like a long-distance boyfriend? you don't even say goodbye, you come back at 4am every day, and i haven't even seen you in a month-" you stop, a sob threatening to escape, so you compressed your trembling lips into a straight line keep the tears in, though it was a futile attempt.

"well you shouldn't have even fucking married me then! i don't need a fucking second mother bossing me around every single second of the day! this marriage isn't even fucking working!"

you shouldn't have married me.

the words rang in your head, eyes widening ever so slightly as your fragile heart finally shattered like a piece of glass, the final blow delivered by chan's words. you could only stand in place, frozen and rooted in place, tears finally cascading down your face.

"wait- no, shit-" chan could only stammer as he watched your face fall, instantly regretting what he had just carelessly uttered.

"fine." one word, yet said with so much finality. the one word that broke his heart.

hand shaking, you brought your right hand to your left, finally twisting the small band encrusted with sparkling diamonds off. your wedding ring.

how ironic, that the symbol of your love would become the symbol of your separation.

you slammed the ring down on the counter, grabbed your coat and keys, and walked out the front door. he knew your heart was gone, the frayed rope holding your relationship together by a thread finally snapping with the sharp knife of his words.

you were gone.

[owls-longings]

Yandere!Jiaoqiu: Short Drabbles and headcanons

Warning: Dark content, Yandere, Force-Feeding, Drug Use, Non-Con, Kidnapping, Forced Marriages, Very unhealthy romantic relationships and power dynamics

(Written before 2.5)

Some short drabbles about Jiaoqiu that I wrote a while back- before it was kept in my vault of a head for a long time LMAO. Feel free to let me know what you think!

Yandere!Jiaoqiu who loves force feeding you his cooking.

He practically shovels spoonful after spoonful of his food down your throat, even managing to hit the back of your throat with it.

You can only cough and splutter, but all it does is give him more openings to shove another spoonful in.

By the end of each feeding session, you're just wretching and sobbing.

It burns-- it hurts-- yet, despite your incessant sobbing, Jiaoqiu merely looks into your teary eyes with a cold smile.

"You know- I wouldn't have to do this, if you would just behave and eat your meals." He says as he picks up the cutlery and empty bowl; walking out and leaving you writhing on the floor.

Yandere Jiaoqiu who keeps you drugged all the time while he's away

You don't even get the luxury of relishing the time away from him. You wake up, then get drugged out of your mind for several hours.

By the time the drug wears off-- he's already come home, and then it's all about spending time with him until it's time for you to sleep again.

Rinse and repeat. Again. And again. And again.

You find that you dream a lot in these drugged out states. You dream of being as far away from him as possible.

You dream of your home, your family, and your friends.

But it scares you that as days, weeks and months go by, the faces of your loved ones in your dreams; your only solace in your shitty living arrangements with Jiaoqiu, are growing increasingly blurred with each passing dream.

Yandere!Jiaoqiu who uses your family as leverage to strike a one-sided deal

You beg the Foxian to let you go see your family-- even just once. You bargain and plead, promising him that he can accompany you, and you wouldn't run away anymore. Just please, let you see them again.

"Please, I'll do anything-- I just need to see them one more time--"

You should have known you were practically making a deal with a demon as he smiled at your helpless plea; how he had so eagerly agreed to make the arrangements.

The next time you see your family, they're crying and congratulating you on your wedding with Jiaoqiu.

Singing him lavish praises of how your marriage to him has helped them so much. Didn't you know? Jiaoqiu has been providing them with a seemingly endless supply of credits and helping with medication you could only dream of affording with your previous, meager paycheck.

Your parents are practically sobbing tears of joy as they talk about how they can finally afford to send your brothers to a prestigious school.

And as they cry and thank Jiaoqiu profusely, you can feel despair creeping up on you as you realize this man has your entire family wrapped around his finger.

"If you want them to stay happy; you'll have to behave more from now on, no?"

He practically whispers into your ear with a chuckle.

[kujousgf]

WHO IS SHE? mdni. 18+.

a jock/gymrat!natasha romanoff + emo!reader au

collection of hcs + a drabble

You were... an unlikely couple, being polar opposites visually and having ignored each other for almost the whole duration of high school until you were forced to work on a senior project together. Both of you were annoyed over the idea until you found out how much you actually enjoyed each other's company.

Natasha hadn't intended on developing feelings for you, she even scoffed at the idea when Maria had brought it up to tease her, you had a boyfriend at that time for gods’ sake. A shitty one, but a boyfriend no less. And although she hated him and knew you deserved better, she was not going to interfere.

And so she endured three grueling years of listening to you whine and complain about ‘what's his face’ one day and then be head over heels for him the next. You were easy enough to please, she knew that, so how he failed to do so on a daily basis was a mystery to her.

Until one day when you showed up at her apartment with mascara running down your cheeks, looking absolutely miserable and sobbing about how it's been a week since you last spoke to him and he just posted on instagram with some girl.

You looked a little pathetic, but Natasha didn't mind. She just took you inside and told you that you were too pretty to cry over someone like him, cleaned you up and helped you fix your makeup. And when he inevitably called to try and apologize for ‘being such a terrible boyfriend’ she accidentally knocked you over while trying to take your phone from you so you wouldn't answer.

And when she found herself towering over you on the ground she just couldn't help herself, the way you were staring up at her with wide eyes and the way your chest was rising and falling…

She practically begged you not to answer, you didn't need him. You had her, why would you need him? She could be so much better than he was, she knew you so much better than he did.

When Natasha brought you back to your apartment, your soon to be ex boyfriend was already waiting for you, presumably to apologize in person because you never picked up the phone. He got about five words in before Natasha had him pinned to the ground with her fists flying.

Your interests didn't exactly intersect at first, but eventually Natasha started to enjoy what she used to call ‘freaky’ and ‘weird’ and you were happy enough to accompany her to the gym, watching her work out and fantasizing about being manhandled.

She loves to help you with your makeup, tells you it's because she can't wait to ruin it later with a cocky smirk on her lips. But she also just loves how happy it makes you when she offers to help with your eyeliner.

And in turn you help her with working out. It’s how you found that she can quite easily lift you up (and toss you around). You had joked once about her doing a pushup with you on her back, but she took that as a challenge and showed you just how easily she could.

Natasha finds herself trying to listen to the music you like even when you're not around, it's not her favorite, but she's proud to say that she no longer hates it.

Because of your different way of dressing, you find yourself the subject of a lot of staring while in public, some good and some bad. And if it's bad, Natasha has no problem shooting a quick glare at whoever's looking at you.

You absolutely love how ripped your girlfriend is. You never thought you'd find yourself dating someone so different to yourself. You’ve never found the appeal in going to the gym every day, but you're glad you are. You used to roll your eyes and cringe whenever Natasha would flex to try and show off, but now you find yourself swooning and hanging off of her rather big bicep.

And Natasha absolutely loves how unapologetically yourself you are, despite teasing you all the time by calling you ‘creepy’, ‘freaky’, and a ‘weirdo’. She loves your cute little skirts and your makeup and the way you do your hair. She loves that she can mess up your lipstick and have it go unnoticed depending on the look you're going for that day.

Whenever you get frustrated or fondly annoyed with her you call her Natalia and it always makes her groan, especially if you're around friends.

She has so many pet names for you in both English and Russian that sometimes you lose count, but usually you just call her 'Natty' or 'Tasha'

Natasha was rather… well, you would say boring in the bedroom before she met you, but she was just vanilla and that's fine. She thought hair pulling was the most extreme thing people liked during sex…. and you were definitely the polar opposite of that.

She quickly found out that wasn't the case, though, when you had sat her down and told her that she was allowed to be rough with you if she wanted, that she was allowed to manhandle you. That conversation seemed to light a fire inside her, because that same night after you'd gone to bed she started to do a little research about the rougher sides of sex.

The next time the topic was brought up it was by Natasha herself. She seemed nervous to ask about it, but her hands were itching at her sides like she just wanted to grab you. It seemed her research had only stoked the fire, because all she'd been able to think about for the past however many days was how pretty you would look struggling under her.

Your safeword is ‘mango’ because Natasha is allergic and you just thought it was funny. You didn't even think you'd need a safeword, not expecting Natasha to go much further than choking you a little bit, but she insisted, said she'd never want to accidentally cross a line.

She found out just how much she loved bondage and restraints when she saw the marks they left in your skin. She absolutely loves to tape over your mouth because in her words; “you've always talked too much, sweetness.”

Natasha absolutely cannot get enough of you, the way you sound, the way you look, the way you smell, the way you taste. She loves it.

And she loves how small you are in comparison to her, she stands at around 5’10 and she's broad and built, she can toss you around so easily it's like a dream to you both.

“You’re a little freak, aren't ya?” Natasha grins, biceps flexing as she keeps you in a tight headlock. It was payback for a jumpscare video that you showed her and promised was nothing scary, until she realized that your labored breathing was from being turned on, not from attempting to escape her hold. Now she was just teasing you, really.

“Enjoying this?” She tightens her grip just the slightest bit and has your eyes widening and hands shooting up to claw at her forearm with long, sharp nails. “T– Tasha, choking me..!” you manage to squeak out, thighs squeezing together just the slightest.

Natasha was positioned behind you on one knee with one foot planted on the ground to keep the both of you stable. Otherwise she'd be able to see the way your eyes are glossed over, but she can feel the heat radiating off of you from the way your face has heated up, flustered. “That a problem, princess?” Her tone is cocky, but she loosens her hold on you.

She goes from keeping you in a chokehold to wrapping a strong hand around the column of your throat and pulling you back into her. You can't see it, but you can practically hear the grin on her lips when she speaks, “You’re so easy, baby.”

[noearchives]

seeing you cry for the first time + one piece boys (part 2!)

(you can read part one with ace & law here!)

characters: sanji, roronoa zoro

note: here's part two which is kinda short compared to part one... i tried 😞

cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, nothing else tbh just a little comfort drabble ^_^

sanji

before sanji heads to his own quarters to rest, he notices a dim flicker of light in the ship’s kitchen.

sanji sprints to the dim room expecting the worst (luffy eating the entire food supply including the fridge), yet he finds you hunched over the table instead, face buried in your arms as you shake ever so slightly.

the cigarette in his mouth drops to the floor along with his jaw as he immediately runs to your side.

“love?” he says, speaking as soft as he could. he places a hand on your back, and he feels his stomach twist when he feels the tremble of your shoulders. you've always been so strong in front of him and in front of everyone else, so the sight of you being vunerable and the realisation that the tough demeanour you've always put on was just a façade is like twisting the knife in his gut.

“look at me, dearest.” his fingertips are cold against your warm cheeks, turning your face towards him as he inspects you. a gentle thumb brushes your tears away.

(this might not be the best timing to let his mind wander, but god, that pouty, teary expression of yours is to die for.)

sanji kisses your forehead before giving you a warm embrace despite the awkward position with you sitting down and him standing up, not letting go until he's heard your sharp exhales turn into soft, calm breaths.

he kneels on one knee after a while, holding both your hands as he kisses every knuckle.

“i’m so sorry, my love. i’m sorry i wasn’t there when it happened.” he whispers into your palms. “but i’m here now, okay?”

roronoa zoro

mr. bushido is a bit awkward when it comes to feelings, you see.

so when zoro sees the tears rolling down your cheeks as you sob, it's like his hands are tied behind his back, completely and utterly clueless of what he should and should not do.

“oi, what’s wrong? what happened?” he scrambles to your side, gripping your shoulders as he takes a close look at your face. he brushes your tears away with his thumbs, and he frowns when he sees the tears reappear in the same spot even after he’s wiped it away.

he’s not good with words, especially when it comes to comforting people. he tries to kiss it better, yet the crying still hasn't stopped.

with a sigh, he sits on the spot next to you, his swords clanking against the floor as he sets them down. he brings an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer, letting you sob into his chest without a word.

“you know i’m shitty at talking, but if you want me to slice someone in half, i’ll always be up for it. so just… just tell me if you need anything, okay?”

he pauses momentarily, thinking of words to fill the awkward silence.

"i know you're tough. so don't let it get to your head, yeah?"

(what he doesn't know is that you’ve already stopped crying the moment your head leaned against his ridiculously soft chest. it’s like putting a pacifier in a crying baby’s mouth.)

[buckyalpine]

Catch Me If You Can AU

Remember this? (Mob Bucky x single mom police officer reader) Which lead to a part 2 and a part 3? Here is a lil drabble for that AU. For context if you don’t feel like reading all three parts: Mob Bucky falls in love with the pretty police officer who has been on his ass for ages. Not to mention she has a son, 8 year old Jordan, who sees Bucky as a hero no less. After a little kidnapping, a little flirting and going full on protective mode when her shitty ex tries to come back around, Buck finally gets to call her his. She’s a little hesitant at first but she falls for his baby blues and sweet charm. Here’s what happens a little while after you’ve been together. So much emotional fluff. 

-

“What is it J” Bucky curiously inspected the box that was placed onto his lap with a little bow tied on the top, wrapped up with carefully selected colorful paper. Jordan had spent the entire night shifting through different colors he thought Bucky would like and redoing the taping until it was perfect, hardly getting a wink of sleep, too excited for morning to come. 

“Open it!” Jordan grinned, though his heart was beating erratically on the inside, holding his breath when Bucky picked up the box again. The mob boss had taken the month off for Jordan’s 10th birthday, insisting they would do whatever he wanted but your son insisted he just wanted to spend time together. Still, Bucky pulled out all the stops, leaving a mountain of gifts in Jordan's room from him alone. Breakfast was filled with pancakes, every topping imaginable, fresh croissants, pastries and milkshakes along with a very hungry Steve, Sam and Peter. You were all still seated at the table finishing up while Jordan looked at Bucky intently. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one getting you presents” Bucky snorted while you watched him carefully unwrap the ribbon before gently taking the wrapping paper apart revealing a plain white cardboard box with an envelope taped onto the front.

“Should I read this or see what’s inside first?” Bucky asked curiously. 

“Uh-You can read the letter first” Jordan peeked up, hoping to hide his anxiousness while Bucky took out the paper, unfolding a hand written letter. 

Dear Dad,

I talked to mommy about this and this is what I want for my birthday. I thought it would wait till Christmas but I really wanted it now. 

No pressure, you can always say no but I hope you’ll say yes.

Love,

Jordan

Bucky’s brows furrowed, looking at the documents inside the box, his entire world stopping as he read the words printed on the paper. 

“J?”

Jordan shuffled on his feet nervously, afraid to meet Bucky’s eyes, only looking up when Bucky reached out to gently squeeze his hand. 

“Are-are you sure?”

“I’m sure” Jordan whispered, missing the tears that streamed down Bucky’s face, pulling the little one into his chest, kissing the top of his head. “So you’ll sign it? You’ll adopt me?” Jordan looked up hopefully while Bucky let out a wet chuckle. 

“Y’know you’re already mine, right? I want this but these are just papers. I love you no matter what” Bucky said firmly, meaning every word. You bit your lip to keep from sobbing seeing your two favorite boys attached at the hip while Bucky signed the document, still keeping a protective arm around Jordan. Jordan silently nodded, letting out a sniffle before squeezing Bucky tightly, feeling safer than ever. You giggled to yourself, seeing Bucky’s usual hard ass men discreetly wiping their eyes with Steve doing the worst job. 

“G-get it together” Sam hissed, swallowing tightly, scrunching his nose in an attempt to keep from sniffling again while Steve rolled his eyes, no longer trying to hold back as the first whimper escaped. Then a full on sob. Peter hadn’t bothered trying to put up a front at all, loudly blowing his nose into a tissue. 

“Mommy, look!” he took he sheet and held it up proudly for you all to see to see, while Bucky pulled you in, kissing you sweetly. 

“Thank you” You whispered just for Bucky to hear, melting into his touch as he silently squeezed your hip. 

“Best. Birthday. Ever” Jordan stated, clutching the paper to his chest while Bucky grinned proudly, deciding he’d have a conversation with his son soon about asking his mommy to marry him. “Just one more thing”

“What else do you want baby, daddy already got you everything and more” You ruffled Jordan’s hair, your son thinking for a moment before his eyes lit up. 

“A brother” Jordan shrugged innocently while Bucky smirked, giving you a wink when no one was looking. 

“Oh, he can make that happen right now” Sam cackled, already seeing the feral look on Bucky’s face while you shook your head, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the thought. 

“Really? Or a sister” Jordan smiled, just wanting a sibling to play with. “I’m okay with either” 

“Jordan-” 

“Shhh, let’s give our son what he wants” You were about to question his request when Bucky immediately hushed you, giving Steve a pointed look, his best friend nodding understandingly.

“Sooo how about we go on some roller coasters all day so we can give your mommy and daddy some time to get you that” Steve grinned while Sam wiggled his eyebrows a you both, your son already half way out of the dining room, off to get ready. 

“That sounds like a great plan” Bucky let his hands slide down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. 

“You’re a menace” You bit back a shy smile while Bucky hugged you tightly from behind, seconds away from throwing you over his shoulder. 

“M’your menace baby” He cooed, his heart still full over getting to officially call Jordan his, “C’mon, we can’t keep J waiting” 

“You sure about this?” You asked, squeaking when he lifted you in his arms, taking you straight to bed as soon as they heard the front door shut, leaving the house completely empty.

“Very sure. Now come here, my son gets whatever he wants” Bucky practically pounced on you, making you giggle as he peppered you with kisses, throwing you on the bed. “Let’s make a baby, mama” 

[sukified]

— his favorite ho.

❀ katsuki b. x fem!reader

❀ outline. teeny tiny drabble because i saw a car sex twt vid and it made me miss kats

❀ w. 18+ content, dirty talk, very light assplay, katsuki has anger issues, riding, car sex

❀ do not repost thx

katsuki has had a long fuckin’ day.

higher ups yapping in his ear and telling him that his poor attitude towards civilians has become a daily topic and he’s had enough. everyone who knew of the pro knew that his temper was short, that he wasn’t saving people to be friendly. no, he was doing his job, keeping japan safe and sound under his supervision without fake flowery bullshit.

not only that, his anger management classes have been kicking his ass. it was a requirement as soon as they threw katsuki on the front lines— he needed to attend regular sessions. it was believed that going to talk about his feelings, forced out of his protective shell of aggression and anger, would improve his performance.

whatever the hell that meant.

you know full and well how katsuki has been feeling about his current predicament. he brought it up all the time over whatever fancy dinner he treated you to, complaining about responsibility and growth and the likes. the man simply needed emotional guidance, he needed to learn healthier ways to deal with his feelings and mental hurdles because they were strong. everything about him was so very strong.

though, when he didn’t feel like running an irritated hand through his mop of thick ash hair while he spewed profanities about his braindead therapist or his dick-sucking bosses, he’d keep you stuffed.

it was a particularly taxing day on his end, seeing as though spring tends to bring out the evil motives and the villains. popping off explosions and knocking wrongdoers the fuck out could only go so far for his stress, for his mental constipation.

no, today he needed more. he needed to shut his brain up, needed to direct the anger and resentment and frustration elsewhere. what better way to deal with his problems than take it out on his pretty baby?

“been forever since i’ve given you good dick, hah?” katsuki hisses as his head lolls back lazily, thunking against the sleek leather of his backseat, rough hand planted limply on the curve of your waist. you look godsend hovering over him, your shoulders flexing as you grip on his thick thighs, trembling like a goddamn leaf as you fight to keep yourself up.

he’s got you riding him because he’d be damned if he put any extra effort into the shitty day. today was your day to take control, a rare one because he couldn’t be bothered. katsuki had called you up as soon as his patrol ended, voice void of emotion in fear that he’d end up snapping at you for any minuscule reason. after all, you hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve his berating.

your pussy cries and sobs as you bounce on his cock sensually, the strain making your mind fog up and blank on your train of thought. it was almost a routine for the pro to use your body for a nice shutdown, you felt it was the best way to thank him as a citizen. he sought you out on his worst days and you never failed to follow through, something he fucking adores about you.

his jaw is slack, blonde stubble decorating his skin, tongue slithering out to lick at his lips. you were so damn wet and tight around him, it was just enough to help him block out the spiel he had received earlier in the day about working on his rescue skills. nah, he didn’t need to change himself for the sake of others, you seemed to like him just as he was.

“shit, you’re filth. jus’ a filthy girl,” the sound of his voice, mumbled and distant, makes your cunt throb. your walls suction him tight, coating him in a glossy mess of your pussy drool. he swears he could die happy right here and his mind is nearly blank as he slips a thumb in your ass, huffing out a quiet chuckle at the way your back arches immediately.

no matter how nasty his attitude can be, you come back for more. you always do.

[kikohao]

Sunshine all the time makes a desert. Storms make roots deepen. Rain brings growth.

As dokyeom x comfort maybe?

ᅠᅠᅠᅠ ⠀⠀⠀⋆˙. emtied eyes

★ ㅤㅤpairing ; bf!dokyeom x gn!reader ★ ㅤㅤsummary ; where you can always count on dokyeom to comfort you ★ ㅤㅤthemes ; established relationship, fluff, comfort fic ★ ㅤㅤwarnings ; cursing (like once), reader cries, DK BEING BF MATERIAL ★ ㅤㅤword count ; 0.3k ★ ㅤㅤtaglist ; @nonononranghaee @abodyhasbeenfound @staranghae @prpldahy @starshuas ★ ㅤㅤa/n ; tbh idk how i feel about this but um here you go babe <3 i think this turned out okay?? idk dokyeom baby saved the day !! likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3 requests are always open! (texts, ot13 scenarios, drabbles, fics, mtls, etc) send an ask to be added to my taglist!

"It's okay, love," hushed Dokyeom. The only sound that accompanied my muffled sobs was his soothing voice. You looked towards him with eyes emptied of human emotion. You were tired, possibly overwhelmingly exhausted. But, the eyes that looked over at you — it was those filled with spirit and hope, long contrasting yours.

You stayed close to him. He noticed that the amount of sniffles and sobs decreased, the only things audible were his voice and the rain. You swore the rain appeared suddenly, it was an extremely sunny day with no sign of humid weather. The sounds of rain helped you calm down, it helped you trap your conscience once again.

"You see love, you don't always have to be happy, there's absolutely nothing wrong with feeling sad, or angry in a while," whispered, still holding you close, "It's like the weather. A minute it's full of sunshine, another its rain." You chuckled in response — "What's our shitty weather got to do with this?" You couldn't help but realize that the thoughts crowding your head minutes prior had already vanished — all thanks to Dokyeom.

"Sunshine all the time makes a desert. Storms make roots deepen. Rain brings growth — if you try to always be happy, not prioritizing your true emotions, it'll be bad for you, okay? Instead, let your emotions loose. Cry as much as you want, scream as much as you want — it'll only help you feel better, much better than shoving it all inside."

"Woah, that's quite poetic of you," And suddenly, you weren't scared of life; suddenly your emptied eyes were again filled — with hope and spirit.

[cloudcountry]

nightbringer lesson 13 spoilers

solomon reacted very underwhelmingly so i wrote a little something something!! a little fix it drabble if you will C:

“MC’s awake?” “Are you sure?” “MC, are you okay?” “Don’t you ever do that again!” “We’re so glad you’re alright!”

Your head spins as the brothers crowd you, their words spinning around you like a tornado you can’t escape from. Shaking your head wildly in an attempt to block out the voices, you stumble out of bed and slap the hands that reach for you away.

“Solomon—Where is Solomon?” you rasp, glancing around the room, “I need to see him.”

You don’t wait for an answer as you shove past the roaring crowd of demons and stumble into the hall, head on a swivel as you try desperately to catch a glimpse of white hair or a shitty grin or even a whiff of that woodsy rain smell to prove that he was here and that he’d come back—

You look to your left again, and there he is. He’s carrying a few books, ones you can only guess were for breaking the curse placed upon you.

“Solomon!” you cry out, and he drops the books and stares, eyes wide as you run over to him like he’s all you’ll ever need, and he wants to be that for you so much—

He trips over his own two feet as he opens his arms, rushing towards you with equal fervor. You crash into him and sob brokenly, clutching him like he’s nothing more than a wispy apparition that’ll disappear if you loosen your grip for a second. Solomon buries his face in the crook of your neck, gripping the back of your head and slamming his eyes shut. His other hand crushes you against him, pressing against the now-exposed flesh of your lower back as he dips under your shirt. You let him touch you, feel your warmth, and silently reassure him that you’re back, you’re alive and you’re still you. There is still blood in your veins, your heart is still beating, and even if you never woke up again your heart would always belong to him.

“Fuck.” he cries softly, so softly you’re sure nobody else heard it but you, “You’re okay. You’re okay. I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do but I—fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

You shush him to the best of your ability, pressing a myriad of kisses across every patch of skin you can reach. He’s warm, just like you, and you can’t help but cling even tighter to him.

“I love you, I love you, I love you—” you chant, hands darting over his entire body just to make sure you aren’t dreaming and that he’s really here and—

“Can I kiss you? Please?” Solomon begs, looking frantic as he drags his hand across your cheeks.

“If you don’t, I think I’ll die.” you choke out.

That’s all it takes for Solomon to yank you into him again, sealing your lips with his. he kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to, he kisses you like you’ll die tomorrow, he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you—

He gasps when you break apart, chest heaving and eyes watery. He doesn’t wait another second to catch his breath before he dives right back in, kissing you again.

[toomuchracket]

when i found you, much younger than you are now (flatmate/dad!matty x reader)

ten years of self-titled!! can u believe!! anyway, a little fluffy drabble about the day the album was released, and also about the day it turned ten, as voted for by you guys. enjoy!

2013

when you enter the kitchen, the linoleum floor cold even through your fluffy socks, matty is staring at the fridge. namely, at the thing pinned between two shitty manchester fridge magnets - a futile attempt by you to reduce your shared homesickness when you moved down south.

he's staring at the calendar, which under today's date reads "75 album release day!!!!" in your handwriting, adorned with as many lovehearts and stars and smiley faces as you could fit in the tiny box.

not that either of you were at any risk of forgetting the date, mind, but you thought it would be cute to commemorate it anyway. "you can keep it as a memento in the future," you had said, as you wrestled with the paper and the bumblebee magnet and the laws of physics while putting the calendar up. "when you're living in a malibu beach house in a decade, married to a supermodel, you can look at that calendar and think of the day your first album came out. and maybe also of me, back in london, or manchester, or maybe edinburgh... i don't know where exactly, but most likely on the other side of the world from you and your gorgeous wife. it'll be cute!"

(neither of you thought it was cute whatsoever, though.)

matty turns when he hears your half-shuffling footsteps, face twisting into a sleepy smile that splinters your heart. he opens his arms as you near him, pulling you into a washing powder-scented hug and resting his lips on your hair. "hi, darlin'."

"hi," you murmur into his sweatshirt. "happy album day."

"thanks," you feel matty's cheeks twitch into a smile against your head. "feels quite surreal, honestly. we have an album out. mad."

you caress the space between his shoulder blades. "i can imagine - it's insane for me to even think that my best friend in the world has an album out. m'so proud of you though, babe."

"couldn't have done it without you, sweetheart. oh, that reminds me..."

matty breaks the hug - and, in the process, your heart - to reach for one of the CDs piled haphazardly between the radio and the kettle. he hands you one with an all too familiar cover art, accompanying his "here" with a grin.

"matty, i said i would buy it!" you protest. "i want to be a part of getting you a number one."

"that's cute, babe, but nah," matty folds his arms and smirks. "there wouldn't be an album without you, because there wouldn't be EPs without you and your room at uni. so, the boys and i figured that you were the perfect person to get the first album CD actually made."

your eyes fill with tears at the ridiculously sweet, ridiculously too generous gesture. "wait, really?"

"i mean, it was my idea, of course," matty winks, which earns him a shove on the arm. "but yeah, that's the very first 1975 album disc. open it, darlin', look at the lyric booklet."

sniffling, you do as requested; your sniffles turn to full-blown sobs as you take in the "to our favourite girl. thanks for the love (and the pints) xx" dedication written on the first page, sobs which only increase in volume as you take in the lyrics, handwritten by matty rather than typed.

you gently place the CD and booklet back on the counter, and pull your sweetly-smiling best friend into a teary hug. "thank you, sweetheart. i feel very special."

"you are," matty replies, tenderly stroking the back of your head. "you're the most special, to me."

your heart jolts at that, and you squeeze matty even tighter, pull him even closer to you. but it's not close enough to satisfy you, it never is - nothing short of his skin cells grafting to yours and consuming them would stop your heart and brain and nervous system aching for him.

well, a kiss would probably do it, but that's far less likely to happen.

the painfully tender moment is interrupted by matty's back pocket buzzing, which provides a blissful relief from the thoughts about kissing your best friend that were beginning to awake from their dormancy. alas, the relief is short-lived - matty sighs in your ear, and murmurs "will you get that for me, sweetheart? don't wanna let go of you."

with a hopefully-unnoticeable gulp, you slide your hand down matty's back and into his pocket to pull out his phone. you squint at the caller ID. "s'george."

"should probably speak to him, i s'pose," matty says, planting a final (and devastating) kiss to your head before letting go of you and taking his phone. "are you gonna go and listen to the album while you get ready for the party later?"

you grin sheepishly. "already bought and listened to it on itunes."

"you're incorrigible. but i love you."

"ooh, big word! i love you too," you smile. "and tell george i love him too, and i can't wait to celebrate with you all later."

matty winks. "will do, darlin'."

you wink back and grab your CD, turning on your heel and wandering to your bedroom to begin the arduous process of getting ready for the album release dinner and subsequent party. it goes by quicker than usual, though, soundtracked by the boys, punctuated by congratulatory texts to and from ross and george and a half-hour congratulatory phone call with adam, and powered by the excitement of knowing you can be extra affectionate with matty today and it won't be weird.

it goes by so quickly, in fact, that you're almost completely finished your makeup when matty peers round your slightly-open door. "hey babe, would you mind- oh, wow, you look gorgeous!"

it's almost embarrassing how warm your cheeks get at that simple statement. you swivel to face your flatmate, smiling bashfully. "thanks, sweetheart. i was a bit worried the eye makeup was too much for dinner, but i've committed to it now, i s'pose."

"no, it's perfect," matty says softly, coming into the room and perching on the end of your bed. you're perfect, he wishes he could add - it's cliché, but god, is it true. "i love it."

your cheeks burn, and lift of their own accord. "i'm glad."

matty smiles back just as widely as you. there's a pleasant silence for a moment, reluctantly broken by you before matty forgets his train of thought. "did you want to ask me something, babe?"

"oh, shit, yeah," matty nods. "would you mind - if you have the time, that is - drying my hair for me? can never get it to sit right. but like it's cool if not, i can do it myself, i just like it more when it's you doing it and-"

"matty," you interject, before he talks himself unconscious. "of course i will. just let me do my lipstick first, yeah? then i'm all yours."

all his. christ, what he wouldn't give. "take your time, darlin'. thanks a lot."

"s'no problem," you say, turning back to your dressing table and rifling through a pile of lipsticks. matty smiles as you open a few in turn, furrowing your brow as you wordlessly narrow down your colour options; the smile is wiped clean off his face when you drop your jaw and swipe a dark pink over your lips, forming them into an O as you make sure the lipstick is applied perfectly. fuck. your mouth.

(the lyric from talk! is most definitely about you, but he'll never tell.)

after the most agonising minute of matty's life, you turn around to face him. "ok, i'm finished making myself pretty. your turn, babe."

"you're always pretty," matty says, kissing the top of your head as you stand up to let him sit in the chair; he finger guns towards his reflection as he does. "and so am i."

you roll your eyes. "maybe it's best if the album doesn't go to number one, actually. your head might explode, healy."

"best make sure my hair looks good then, babe."

"when has it not, when i've styled it? it's me you're talking to, not george."

"fair point."

with a wink to him through the mirror, you rake one hand through matty's hair and aim the hairdryer at it with the other. he closes his eyes, sinking back into the plush seat, enjoying the soothing combination of warm air and your gentle touch - your nails lightly scratch his scalp the way you know he loves, and he hums contentedly. fuck the dinner, fuck the party, fuck celebrating the album; matty would be happy just to stay like this forever with you.

you'd be happy with that too, to be honest.

matty slowly opens his eyes as you put down the hairdryer and finish shaping his hair with your hands. you crouch to get the back looking just so, then rest your chin on his shoulder and smile at him through the mirror. "beautiful boy."

tilting his head so it rests on yours, matty beams at you through the mirror. "thanks, sweetheart. we do look quite hot, don't we? we should memorialise it, i think."

"now? we're not even dressed for tonight yet," you say, as matty pulls his phone from his pocket and opens the camera.

"trust me, babe, this is just the first of many pictures i intend to take to document this very important day. and the first of many pictures i intend to take of you, looking all hot and glamorous."

"charmer. alright, take the pic."

"alright, darlin'."

*

2023

when you enter the kitchen, the déja vu of a moment from a decade ago practically smacks you in the face. never mind that it's a different house, with a different kitchen and a different floor (tiled, not lino, but still cold under socked feet).

just as he was exactly ten years ago to the day, albeit with different hair, matty is staring at something pinned between two shitty manchester magnets on the fridge (also different - a smeg you were embarrassingly excited about buying when you and matty moved here). rather than the calendar from before, though, it's the picture the two of you took while you were getting ready to celebrate the album release.

again, matty turns to smile at you as you near him - well, as best he can with a toddler clinging to his leg and a 7 month-old baby in his arms. you can see in his eyes that the déja vu is getting to him as well. that, and the way his smile widens as he says "hi, sweetheart".

"hi. happy ten years of your first album," you grin, moving closer to kiss him quickly. dylan lets go of her dad's leg and raises her arms towards you; when you pick her up and kiss her cheek, she giggles and hides her face in your neck. smiling, you do the same to elena, who beams mostly toothlessly at you in response. "and hello to you too, my babies! were you good for daddy while mummy was at work?"

soft curls tickling your neck tells you that dylan is nodding, an action matty copies enthusiastically. "they were perfect," he says, booping elena on her tiny nose and making her giggle - your favourite sound on the planet. "they take after their mum, of course."

you roll your eyes. "ever the charmer, healy."

"you know it, healy," matty grins, relishing the chance for acknowledgement of your shared last name, the same way he's done at any opportunity since you took it as your own four years ago. "we were just talking about mummy, weren't we, dyl? how in that photo she thought i was going to be married to somebody else by now, but daddy always knew he wouldn't marry anybody but her."

your heart glows with overwhelming love for matty and his words; it quickly begins to burn with embarrassment at your past utter cluelessness, though. "well, i genuinely didn't think you liked me in that way, the way i liked - like - you."

"silly mummy," dylan giggles, playing with the pendant on your necklace that bears her first initial, as well as those of her father and sister.

you tickle her little tummy, and the giggles increase tenfold. "silly mummy indeed!"

your toddler's giggles fade into little hums, and her tiny face turns placidly serious as she looks at the picture of her parents. "but pretty mummy."

"the prettiest," matty agrees, trying his best to extrapolate elena's tiny fist from one of his curls.

"well, maybe in a few hours, once i'm ready for the party," you say, stepping forward to save your husband's hair from his mini-me's grip. it takes you both a minute, considering you're both operating with only one daughter-less limb, but matty's curls escape mostly unscathed from your baby's possessive grasp. elena might be a matty clone, but she really is your daughter, no doubt about it. "which i really should start working on, considering everyone will be here in... three hours. will you all sit with me while i do my makeup?"

"of course we will," matty nods, holding out his free hand for you to take with your own. "lead the way, wifey."

for the second time that day, although you're sure there will be many more instances of it, there's an overwhelming familiarity to the scene in your bedroom. with the exception of dylan sitting on the vanity, copying you and pretending to put her own makeup on with one of your clean blush brushes, and elena doing tummy time on your bed and babbling away happily, the process is much the same as it was exactly a decade ago - enjoyable, quick, interspersed with excitement and texts and calls from your equally-excited friends.

the soundtrack is also different, although it's still matty singing; instead of the songs about, well, drugs and blowjobs that had scored your pampering in the past, he's doing a medley of disney songs, nursery rhymes, and... "babe, is that britney spears?"

mirroring his youngest daughter and lying on his stomach on the bed, matty glances up, eyes gleeful. "yeah! lena loves it. look - oops, i did it again, i played with your heart, got lost in the game, ooh baby baby."

true enough, elena shrieks with laughter and taps her hands against the duvet in accompaniment to her dad's singing. you laugh too, picking dylan up and moving to sit beside the other half of your family. once you're settled, you scoop elena into your arms and sit her against your knees. "you have such good taste, my girl!"

"mmm, so do i," your husband hums, looking at you with barely-concealed attraction in his dark eyes. "you look gorgeous, darling."

over ten years of matty compliments, and they still shoot straight to your knees and turn them wobbly. you lift your burning cheeks in response. "thanks, sweetheart. you're not too bad yourself."

"you think so? because i was going to ask you about fixing my hair again-"

"i honestly don't think it needs it, babe."

"really? well, in that case," matty reaches back to grab his phone from his back pocket, before rolling to a sitting position and tugging dylan into him. "scootch in, then."

dylan watches her dad open the camera app. "photo now?"

"yes, munchkin."

"but my dress!"

"oh, you're your mother's daughter right enough," matty smiles. "we'll take one picture first, dyl, and then you can go and put your dress on in time for your aunties and uncles and cousins arriving, yeah?"

"ok."

"that's the spirit," matty ruffles his toddler's head, before putting his arm around you. "say cheese!"

after his girls oblige, dylan moves round to talk to her baby sister, while matty opens the picture to see how it turned out; you lean in and rest your chin on his shoulder again so that you can look too. "oh, matty, look how cute we all are!"

"definitely fridge-worthy," matty laughs, kissing your temple. he leans back slightly to look at you, bringing a hand up to lightly caress your hair. "i can't believe it's been ten years. for both the album and the two of us. although they always went hand in hand for me, to be honest. constantly thought about you while i wrote it. and i still constantly think about you now."

you press a quick kiss to matty's lips, wiping away your lipstick stain with your thumb - matty tries to kiss it as you do, which earns him a laugh and a "matthew" from you. "i love you, baby."

"i love you too, sweetheart. here's to the next ten years."

[risustravelogue]

Enough

Summary:

You are enough for him.

Featuring:

S/O!Wriothesley, gn!Reader

Tags:

A traditional drabble. Comfort.

Note:

My mood has been shitty these past few days, so I wrote this.

🔗 AO3 | masterlist 🔗

“Enough,” is a word Wriothesley often uses.

He says it with a smile when you pour him his drink in the lazy mornings.

He says it with a stern look when he’s breaking up fights happening outside the Pankration Ring.

But his eyes and voice soften when he says it whenever you’re a sobbing mess at the edge of your shared bed, insecurities relentlessly attacking your mind.

“You are enough,” he says, his strong arms pulling your body against his. You bury your face into his chest as you focus on his voice.

“You are more than enough for me.”

© @risustravelogue 2023 • no to reposting, yes to reblogging. feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. :)

[babygorewhore]

Headphones. Kyle Spencer comfort.

Just a quick little Drabble I wrote during a shitty day. Not a full fic.

You’re having a horrible day. But Kyle decides to show you exactly what you mean to him. WARNINGS! None!

You had a horrible day. You had gotten into a huge fight with your parents, you couldn’t seem to grasp the simple spell during your practices and Kyle had been glued to his iPad all day. Preoccupied with his cartoons.

You collapsed onto your bed, one that Kyle sat next to you during and you sighed with the emptiness that overcame you. Were you even good enough to be here? This school was designed to make you grow as a witch, Cordelia had her counsel, insisted you were doing well but you just didn’t believe it.

You had showered, wrapped yourself in your pajamas and stayed in the silence for several minutes as Kyle had his headphones on. Something he did for comfort. But who was going to comfort you?

You always held everything together. You never showed weakness or displayed how much it upset you to see Madison sneer at you, or every disappointment in everyone’s face when you couldn’t complete a spell.

Your breath hitched, tears prickled your eyes and you buried your face in your hands. Sobs started escaping from your throat, your body trembled. You didn’t belong here. You weren’t any use. You weren’t good enough. You choked on a gasp.

Arms encircled your shoulders, you lifted your head to see Kyle, his brown eyes wide from your emotion and his eyebrows were creased. His blonde hair hung above his brow.

“Why are you sad?” You had been helping him with his speech, he preferred to be quiet but his stuttering had improved considerably given his previous condition.

“Oh, Kyle. I’m no use here.” You wiped away your tears and tried to smile before it fell. “I shouldn’t be here. I don’t do any good.”

He shook his head before wiping away a tear with his thumb. “No tears.” He whispered.

“I wish I could make them stop.” You confessed. “But I don't know what to do.”

“You help me, a lot. So I don’t get so angry.” He offered while his hand remained on your shoulder.

“That’s true.” You laughed quietly. Looking at your palms.

Kyle shifted beside you, pulling out his headphones and gently placing them on your head. “What are you doing?” You quietly asked and then he started humming a song you frequently sung whenever you thought no one was listening.

“Deep-deep breaths.” He coached, guiding you to mimic his breathing. Something you did for him, multiple times whenever he needed help. “It’ll help y-you.” He insisted.

You couldn’t help the soft smile that came over you, he was offering exactly what you do for him. Whenever he became upset about his mother, whenever he didn’t understand something, this routine always calmed him down.

“Gentle-breathing.” He continued, nodding his head as you did what he said.

“Thank you, Kyle.” You said to him, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.

He blushed lightly and ducked his head down for a second. Then he looked up at you. “Love-love-love you.”

Your heart warmed. In this moment, this was everything he had. The same coping skills, your favorite song. He really meant it.

“I love you too, Kyle.” You opened your arms and you both embraced each other.

[jermer10]

Hi! I absolutely love the falling asleep on the mercs' shoulder headcanons!

May I request headcanons for the support mercs, where the reader wakes them up in tears from a terrible day that caused terrible dreams, and asks to stay with them for the night?

TF2 support mercs with reader who experiences nightmares

gn reader | thank you sm anon!! i really enjoyed writing this one!

includes: medic, sniper, spy

drabbles under the cut :P

Medic: - he was difficult to wake up, initially swatting your hand away and mumbling something in german - medic already doesn't get enough sleep, being an insomniac, and it was one of those rare nights he had managed to pry himself away from his desk before passing out - once he heard your quiet sobs though, he sat up, rubbed the sleep away from his eyes, and immediately began questioning you - "vhat's wrong y/n? are you alright? are you hurt?" - you looked so tired, face red, hair a mess, shirt sticking to your skin with sweat - "i've had such a shitty day, i-im just so upset and tired, then i have this sh-shitty dream." he hums empathetically as you sobbed out an explanation - "vould you...like to sleep here tonight?" you look up at him, eyes still wet with tears and face puffy, nodding, you crawled into bed next to him - it felt awkward at first, having the man wrap his muscular arms around you, but eventually you melt into his warm embrace, softly drifting off - he didn't know why you came to him with these troubles, but the way your chest moved as you breathed, the pieces of your hair framing your face, the smell of your skin and hair, it was worth his loss of sleep - he was absolutely enamored with you

Sniper: - the trek to the van from the dormitories inside base was terrifying, adding onto your already heightened senses from the nightmare you had just experienced - this wasn't the first time you had gone to him for a coffee after hours, just as the other times, the outside light of his camper was on - you knocked on the screen door, the sound rattling into the silence of the night, you grew even more paranoid - "who's there?" he growled, it made you wonder if he had encounters with no so friendly faces out here before - "um, it's just me, y/n..." you sniffled, patting your hair down in an attempt to make yourself look more presentable - he opened the doors swiftly, allowing you to step inside - when he noticed you had been crying, he motioned for you to sit in his bed, and walking over to start the kettle - you talked about your nightmare, how shitty your day had been, you laughed at jokes, gossiped, and drowsiness overtook you - "d'ya wanna sleep here tonight? it's gettin' pretty late." he seemed embarrassed at his own question, waving a vague gesture at the bed - you smiled, accepting his request, and getting comfortable next to the australian - he couldn't help but stare at you, taking in your features, the way you rolled around in your sleep, how your body seemed to twitch with every subtle movement made his heart race and his skin hot - sniper wasn't going to sleep that night, he didn't need it

Spy: - sometimes you wondered if the man ever slept at all, you would often walk past his study and see him up, reading or lounging around - so when you awoke from a particularly dreadful nightmare, you knew who to look for - he had been up for hours, sleep beginning to take hold until he heard the shaky knock on the wooden doorframe - and he looked up, book in hand, to see you - spy beckoned for you to enter, a tired smile graced his sharp features, he looked so different without the mask - "um, i was just wondering if i could stay in here tonight, i've h-had a pretty bad dream and-" he cut you off by holding a finger up - "of course mon amour, come." he pet the space next to him on the lounge, you obliged and sat, peering over at the novel he was reading - "would you like for me to read it to you?" you nodded, barely making out the words in your tearful, drowsy state - the words of the novel swam in your head, each pass of the tide pushing you into slumber - he stopped reading after he was sure you had fallen asleep, placing the book on his stained mahogany coffee table, retrieving a blanket from his room to place over the two of you - spy spooned you from behind, gently holding you in place on the couch, you were so peaceful, so beautiful - he would ask about your nightmare in the morning, but for now, he wanted you to sleep

[ratedfleur]

fuckboy!gyuvin would def take u in an empty classroom. nililigawan niya si ate!reader, which is his senior of 2 years, but ayaw siya sagutin ni y/n kasi she thinks he's not mature enough or a kid who just fucks around. he overhears y/n telling her friends how gyuvin is probs shitty at bed and fuck girls for his own orgasm. gyuvin feels determined to prove her wrong and takes her to an empty to show her how sex to him is give and take (waha this time he has a big dick AND knows how to use it)

needless to say y/n cums more than once and squirts on him too :p

fuck boy!gyuvin and ate/noona!reader makes me feel so many things, pakiramdam ko para akong worm na pagulong gulong lang HEH also so sorry this took so long, i didn't know paano isulat but i hope the lengthy drabble makes up for it!

fuckboy!gyu na laging hinahabol si ate is so real, always wanting to be around her, chasing after her like a child asking for candy. he just likes trailing behind her though she doesn't exactly like having gyuvin chase after her because of his fuck boy antics. she just thinks he's too young for her and that all that he thinks of is probably sex and is most likely shitty in bed.

when he heard those words she spewed to her friends, gyuvin was indeed determined to make her cry and moan, only wanting to hear his name slip out from her lips as he's plowing into her pussy from behind, pushing her against a table.

gyuvin turns cocky when he hears her beg him for more, moaning out his name, nearly screaming it for the other students to hear outside. he uses his huge cock to prove his point that he isn't shitty in bed and that he can actually use it to make ate cry to which she does end up sobbing as she's begging for gyuvin to fuck her harder and to make her cum.

he does just that, fucking her hard until she cums without warning, walls spasming around gyuvin's cock which has him groaning, "ate please, lalabasan ako agad niyan. we don't want that to happen, i'm still not done with you." gyuvin grunts as he holds onto her waist tightly, forcefully fucking her faster and harder before he cums into her cunt, filling her up which has her moaning out loud, sighing in content when her cunt is filled up with gyuvin's cum.

gyuvin abruptly pulls out before kneeling down in front of her ass, stuffing his face into her ass before licking her cunt up, quote unquote cleaning her up before making her cum only by using his tongue and his fingers, prying the cum out of her cunt before she cums all over his mouth and fingers.

he stands up behind her once more and fucks her in an animalistic pace, making her cry out loud, voice bouncing against the walls as he grips her waist tightly, pulling her towards him as he's thrusting.

at this point, all ate could scream or moan was gyuvin's name, no longer knowing what else to moan or ask for as he's fucking her hard, indeed proving his point that he isn't a shitty fucker.

minutes later, she cums again unannounced around gyuvin's cock once more, making him turn all cocky before he then shoots cum into her, fucking her through her orgasm before she suddenly starts squirting, bullets of tears streaming down her face as she shakes like a leaf underneath gyuvin who groans at the feeling of her squeezing his cock out of her pussy, making a mess around both hers and his lower halves.

"ano ate? bobo ba kumantot?" gyuvin asks, rubbing her hip as she shakes. he sees her shake her head, making him smile smugly.

[saenora]

YOUR FAVOURITES AS YOUR SIMPS

note: if we flip tables and what if youre the mangaka character and your fav simps on you… these are some adequate subpar headcanons… 🫠 (i dont write so lmao bear w me 🤭) thankies to Ai <3 @gojoest-main for indulging always mum ily and SOBS GOJO IS BASED ON WHAT AI SAID🤭)

the husband

YN IS HIS LOML. he is huge on selfship community! HIM AND EVERYONE CALLS HIM YOUR TRUE HUBBY! he has a whole lot of selfship arts with you. he might go broke with all the merch but he cant help it every time he sees your fanarts or a new chapter drops, he goes feral. PINTEREST MOODBOARDS, PLAYLISTS YOU NAME IT. HE HAS IT. he is defending you on every website, writing little self indulging drabbles about you. he knows you well, his little head canons are cannoned by all of your fans. your his f/o and nobody can change it. he either talks about you infront of his friends and he has gained a reputation because of it or leads teh secret life… there is no inbetween. has the sweetest selfship headcanons but occasionally tweets regular horny one liners about how bad he wants to be fucked by you, or about how much he wants to cum inside you and get you pregnant.

gojo?, reo, kise chuuya, isagi, yuuji, taiga, ran + anyone who fits the criteria

the loyal hoe

he has too many blorbos, he knows it. BUT YOURE HIS MAIN BLORBO, HIS BIGGEST SELFSHIP/ THE ONE HE KEEPS CRAWLING BACK TO. it can be put as you made him standout. IS 25/8 YN BRAINROT AND TWEETS HORNIEST STUFF. HE ONLY SURVIVES ON SMUT AND BREATHES TO THE THOUGHTS OF YOUR AROUSAL. writes the best sex stuff. he keeps hopping from one to another but everyone knows he is your biggest whore. UNHINGED. crazy lot of nsfw fanarts of you, has patreon subscription to see all those fanarts. it doenst matter where he is, work/home/cafe. HE IS THIRSTING ABOUT YOU. writes about the shapes of your labia/cock and can write poetry on your body.

SHIDOU, karasu, dazai, GOJO, sukuna, toji, BACHIRA, aomine(ik.. but if he could write), ranpo, EREN, kaiser, jean + anyone who fits the criteria

the sweetheart

he isnt extremely active. somewhere in between the worlds. he calls himself your cheerleader, your number one supporter. he has tons of art saved of you might/might not be on budget. has one commissioned selfship with you. he loves you and probably has the most pure of the selfship with horniness served as dessert. (NO ONE CAN ESCAPE IT) occasionally indulges in you. is mostly very sfw!! but his head is full of all the sexi stuff. loves to talk about you… if anyone strikes a conversation about you he can write verbal books. CERTIFIED SIMP. his selfship is uwu. doesnt go big on it but is a soft fan.

kenyu, hiori, isagi, yuuta, megumi?, chifuyu, rindou, kakucho, connie, atsushi + anyone who fits the criteria

the silent one

he has been your fan since the start, the first time he laid his eyes of your 2d character design, your story, your everything captured him. he loves you from afar.. isnt really active but has a small pinterest board or a playlist of you that he silently indulges in. has no idea what selfships are but you’re a coping mechanism for him (sometimes). if you were real, he’d treat you so much better than the shitty charcter you’re stuck with. doesn’t pick fights online but wouldn’t hesitate if someone crossed a line. he doesnt realize but thinks of you more than a fictional character. probably is the healthiest out of the five. none of his irls know about his fixation of you and it would never see the light of the day. IF LOYALTY WAS A PERSON IT WOULD BE HIM. period.

nanami, rin, ness, levi, erwin, akutagawa + anyone who fits the criteria

the idgaf

he simps only for you. he has posters of you and is not ashamed. people know about you being his favourite character but he is scary so nobody can ask it about. has minimal/no online presence. but keeps signed copies of the mangakas. JERKS OFF TO YOUR POSTERS UNABASHED. he follows one fan account and prolly goes anon sometimes. heavily reads your smut or hasn’t scratched the surface you cant tell. YOURE NOT A CHARACTER, YOURE HIS FAVOURITE. ANOTHER ONE WHO DOENST KNOW WHAT SEFSHIPS ARE, BUT HEAVILY CREAMS THINKING OF YOU and has wild fantasies about you.

sae, aomine, shoichi, oliver, izana, kaiser(idk), baji, naoya, mikey, wc kunigami, ranpo + anyone who fits the criteria

zen speaks: i’ll do a yn as diff as character tropes drabbles too 🤭 so wtevrhr <3

dividers: @/cafekitsune

[anto-pops]

Hollow - Sebastian Sallow

Summary: It's been two years since you died. Two years since you'd jumped in front of Solomon and changed the trajectory of Sebastian's life forever. His hatred for himself knew no bounds, and no matter how much time passed, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself.

Word Count: 840

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of blood/violence, references to depression

A super short stand-alone drabble of pure pain because why not. It's here on Ao3 too :'))

Sebastian was drowning. 

His mind was a never-ending sea of grief, anger, and despair– choking him all hours of the day and threatening to suck him under every waking minute of his wretched life. He was always angry, fuming with the kind of rage that stirred hot and deep inside of him and burned anyone that got too close. He existed in a perpetual state of self-loathing that not even Ominis could pull him from, and it was no wonder why. 

The only person that could ever talk Sebastian down from shitty feelings like these was gone. At his own hands, no less. 

The same hands that had protected, soothed, and treasured you from the moment he met you, had taken you from this world in a split second. Another resulting tragedy of his visceral, untamable temper. It didn’t matter that he’d been aiming for Solomon, or that his intent behind the killing curse hadn’t even been directed at you at all. In the end, you had jumped in the way to stop him, and the green cords of the unforgivable curse had wrapped around you and forced your last breath from your lungs all the same. 

His hands used to fit perfectly with yours. 

He couldn’t fathom that so much time had passed already without you beside him. Two years ago to the fucking day. Seven-hundred and thirty days of unimaginable agony, to be exact. 

On the one year anniversary of your death, Ominis had found him shut away in the Undercroft screaming bloody murder, setting every last barrel and crate ablaze with the force of the damn sun. There had been no getting through to the brunet then, and there certainly wouldn’t be this year either– seeing as Sebastian had taken his anger off of the school grounds entirely to fan the flames of fury that burned bright behind his dark, hollow eyes. 

Sebastian clenched his bloodied fists and stared down at the mutilated corpses he’d been standing over for a while now. The Forbidden Forest was void of any light, save for a few strands of moonlight that broke through the canopy overhead, casting a dim glow on the mess before him. Hot tears swam in his eyes and blurred the horror scene that painted the ground, and his throat struggled to swallow the all encompassing thought that you weren’t here.

A sob heaved from Sebastian’s chest as he fell to his knees, pummeling the shit out of one of the already dead, messy lumps he’d been using as a punching bag. His wand was somewhere in the grass beside him, but he didn’t need it. Not for this. 

No one was there to stop him, and he was almost glad for it. 

Until he remembered that no one was there to stop him. 

Sebastian screamed, shredding his already torn up throat further as he punched and kicked the bloody heap until the tears finally started to fall down his freckled face. His fists sank deeper and deeper into the pale, marred flesh of the dead Ashwinder, the body cold and unmoving, and the foul coppery stench of blood was like a distant memory burned into his nostrils. 

The gaps between his fingers were too wide; your fingers used to fit there perfectly. 

Sebastian felt a bone within the corpse crack under the force of his punches. He couldn’t breathe. 

Cold blood met with cold hands, and Sebastian swore there used to be life in his extremities. It wasn’t enough, he decided, almost desperate to unleash the boiling rage inside of him; all of the frustration and hopelessness, every last lick of anguish and pain. 

He stared at his hands. The spaces between his fingers were like gaping voids, sucking in the tiny remnants of joy the world had left him with. His legs trembled and gave out from under him, his knees collapsing against the lifeless body beneath him and soaking his trousers with even more blood. It was a non-issue compared to the massive rifts that tore open in his psyche. Sebastian shifted and let himself roll to the side, the ground meeting his back with a thud, and the world spun for just a while longer while he blinked up at the thin strips of light that snuck through the branches overhead. 

The sight reminded him of how much you’d loved astronomy. You used to drag him all over school to stargaze for hours.

Sebastian couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, his dirty fingers spreading and grasping uselessly at empty air. He stared at the darkening sky, short gasps punctuating wordless sobs as more tears than he’d ever produced before rolled down the sides of his face and into his ears, moistening his hair. 

The Slytherin stayed that way for hours, digging his fingers into the grass to try and fill the aching chasm in his chest. It was the last time Sebastian ever let himself cry. 

His fingers never stopped spreading, and his hands never stopped searching. But they never found anything, either. 

[rattkachuk]

for the hurt/comfort starters I've gotta ask for mattdrai with "Please tell me I don't look as bad as I feel" please! <3

"Please tell me I don't look as bad as I feel."

Matthew frowns at Leon’s image on his phone screen. The dejected tone of his voice is more than enough to tell Matthew just how bad he’s feeling, but there’s also a slope to his shoulders and the stress in his eyes that he can’t miss after loving him as long as Matthew has. He knows how much responsibility Leon carries with him, and is very familiar with the helpless feeling of not being able to show up for your team.

“You don’t look great,” Matthew says truthfully.

Leon scoffs and rubs a hand over his face, “Oh, thank you.”

The image goes blurry for a moment while his phone re-establishes it’s connection with the shitty Boston hotel internet. He knows there’s not much he can really say to quell Leon’s worries, and it’s late and they both have a game tomorrow. Important games. He doesn’t know the full extent of what’s up with Leon, and doesn’t dig (he’ll find out later and chastise him for it then, just as Leon did to him last year), but he knows that it’s worrisome enough to make Leon call him in the midst of their playoff run.

“Hey,” Matthew says gently, “I know it sucks and I know that I really can’t ask anything of you that I wouldn’t do myself…”

“But?” Leon bites.

“If it’s really bad, please don’t push yourself,” Matthew pleads, quiet but sure. He can’t say much more than that. Can’t tell Leon that it’s not worth it. Can’t sooth him and say that everything would work out for the Oilers without him, for fear of the falsity of his words being too glaring.

Leon sighs, but is silent beyond that. Matthew gives him the space, doesn’t push, listens only to the faint sounds in the background of Leon’s room, and watches the soft flickering light of his TV. Matthew wonders absently what’s on.

There’s a set to Leon’s jaw, and he’s pointedly not looking at Matthew, but even through the pixelated video call he can see the shake to his body as he breathes in and out, “Matthew, you know-there’s just so much riding on this, right? What am I going to do if this season ends in another failure? I’m running out of fucking time, here.”

A pang of unfounded guilt hits Matthew, knows that Leon is a few years ahead of him and in reality it’s not that much, but in hockey it’s everything. Maybe he’s not as well acquainted with the hourglass of time taunting him just yet, doesn’t have to worry about the sand falling through the middle, faster every time he gets another blow to his body. Doesn’t know the pain of making it within reach of the thing he’s always striving for, only to have it ripped away in a blur before you can even get your legs underneath you. Every. Time. Matthew can see it ruthlessly eating away at Leon year after year, chips away at him and seeps into the corners of his being.

Matthew had been closer than Leon ever had, and he felt confident his team could do it again, could see his chances in the coming years only increasing. Coming from him, it felt wrong to placate Leon and tell him that next year would be better, when he’d already had so many years of loss under his belt.

“Then you’ll figure it out. We'll figure it out, alright?” Matthew swears, wanting Leon to know he never had to face this giant thing all by himself, that he didn’t have to cross any bridge without Matthew’s hand to hold, “I’m always with you, Leon.”

There’s a helpless gasp of air from Leon’s mouth, maybe the tail end of a sob stuck in his lungs, “Yah, yah. I know. Thank you.”

Matthew offers a small albeit sad smile, and they don’t say much else. Matthew doesn’t hang up, though, can't bring himself to sever the one line of connection they have in the moment. Leon doesn’t look in a rush to go, he’s three hours behind and has time yet. Matthew sleeps eventually and lets the video call go, so Leon doesn't have to be alone.

ao3 drabbles <3