#but for now I’m getting my week of sadness out of the way

[diamonddaze01]

hi tara! if the prompt already hasnt been asked for, can i request 86 "Please just leave." with mingyu? thank you <3333 reading all the drabbles now hahahah

silence, at its loudest

pairing: mingyu x reader | wc: 1.1k prompt: "Please just leave." au: chef!mingyu | warnings: angst! and tears a/n: TIYA HELLO! thank you for this req it was so sad to write but i hope you love <3

The apartment was suffocatingly quiet for a fight. No music playing in the background, no rain against the windows to soften the edges of your words—just silence, heavy and dense, pressing against your chest, making it hard to breathe. Mingyu stood in the center of the living room, his coat still damp from the storm outside, water dripping from the fabric, leaving a faint puddle at his feet. His tall frame seemed out of place here, as if it didn’t belong in this small space, weighed down by the tension between you both.

You were perched on the couch, arms crossed tightly, a defensive shield you knew wouldn’t protect you from the pain of this conversation. You wanted to retreat into the softness of the cushions, to sink away from him, but you couldn’t move. You couldn’t look away, even as your chest tightened and the cold of the room seeped deeper into your skin.

“I don’t even understand what I did wrong!” His voice cracked, frustration and confusion lacing his words. He ran a hand through his damp hair, as if trying to shake the tension out of his mind. “I—I’m here, aren’t I? Why is that never enough for you?”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your throat, but you didn’t back down. You couldn’t. The words you’d been holding back for so long finally broke free, raw and cutting. “It’s not just about you being here, Mingyu. It’s when you decide to show up. You don’t get to keep ignoring me until I’ve hit my limit, then think you can fix everything by standing in my living room and saying you care.”

He took a step forward, but his eyes were desperate, pleading for some sign that you still cared, that there was something left of the person he used to know. “I don’t understand. I’ve been working—working to build something, something for us! And when I’m finally here, you still—”

“You’re always working, Mingyu!” Your voice cracked under the weight of the frustration that had been building for months, maybe longer. “When was the last time you didn’t have your phone on you? When was the last time you didn’t cancel on me because ‘the restaurant’s short-staffed,��� or you just need to finish one last thing?” Your breath came out in short, shaky bursts. “You didn’t even call me back when you knew it was my birthday. That’s what hurts the most.”

The words hit him like a blow, a quick intake of air following the realization. His expression faltered, the first cracks appearing in his armor. “I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, you didn’t mean to,” you interrupted, voice soft but heavy with disappointment. “But it keeps happening, Mingyu. You keep doing it. You keep saying it’s not intentional, and then you walk through the door like everything’s fine, like you haven’t been neglecting me for weeks.”

He froze. The tension between you thickened, hanging in the air like smoke that wouldn’t dissipate. “I wasn’t ignoring you, okay? I was just trying to... I thought you’d understand. I thought you’d—”

“No, you didn’t think, Mingyu. You assumed,” you said, bitterness seeping into every syllable. “You assumed I’d be fine with it. You assumed I’d be okay with the empty promises, the unreturned messages, the way you disappear whenever things get hard. But I’m not fine. And I’m so tired of pretending that I am.”

His hands shook as he stepped toward you again, his voice breaking with a softness you hadn’t heard in months. “I’m sorry. I know I screwed up. But I’m here now. Let me make it right. I’ll... I’ll stay. I’ll be here for you. I’ll make things better.”

You shook your head, stepping back, distancing yourself both physically and emotionally. “That’s the problem, Mingyu. You think that just showing up, just being here in front of me, is enough to make everything better. But it’s not. It’s too late for that. I can’t just pretend like everything’s okay when it’s not.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the boy you fell for peeked through the cracks. The one who used to wait outside your office just to walk you home, who stayed up late to hear every mundane detail of your day, who never left you wondering where he was or if he cared. That version of him felt like a distant memory now, buried beneath layers of missed calls, broken promises, and unspoken words.

You could see it in his face—the hurt, the regret—but the distance between you both felt too wide to cross anymore. “Please... Don’t do this,” he whispered, stepping closer, his voice raw with emotion. “I need you. I need us.”

You swallowed, your throat tight with the weight of everything you wanted to say but couldn’t. “I can’t keep waiting for you to care when you decide it’s convenient for you, Mingyu. I can’t keep putting myself through this. I can’t keep pretending that it’s enough just because you’re here when it suits you.”

The silence stretched between you both, suffocating and heavy. His hand reached out, fingers trembling as if he wanted to hold you, to make things right, but he stopped himself. He knew, deep down, that it was too late. That the bridge between you had already collapsed, one small misstep at a time, until there was nothing left to salvage.

“Please just leave,” you said quietly, the words slipping from your lips like they didn’t even belong to you. They were heavy, final, like the last breath of something you once held dear.

His breath hitched, his chest tightening, but you didn’t look away. You couldn’t look away from the wreckage that was left between you both, and you knew that leaving now was the only way to preserve whatever was left of yourself.

He stood frozen, his hand still on the doorknob, his body shaking like he was fighting to say something, anything, to change the course of what was happening. But the words wouldn’t come. There was nothing left to say. The silence stretched until it became deafening.

With one last look, he stepped out, the door closing softly behind him. You stood there, motionless, listening to the sound of his footsteps fade away into the distance, swallowed by the rain and the night.

The apartment was cold now, emptier than it had ever been, the silence louder than any argument. And when you finally exhaled, it was like the breath you’d been holding for so long had escaped—too late, but finally out.

But the ache in your chest remained.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[theformulaimagines]

Look at that woman (breaking my heart) | part nine

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Vettel!Reader

Summary: For one and a half years Lewis and y/n managed to keep their relationship a secret, until it blew up in their faces. Now, they're trying their hardest to pick up the pieces...

Warnings: angst

masterlist

Three weeks later…

This whole situation feels like a bad dream. Like a horrible nightmare. How could they have this sort of slip up? They’ve been so careful…

She can still remember the look on his face when she left their Airbnb to get into the taxi. The awful presence of their mutual heartbreak was visual in his eyes. A little break, that’s what they decided on. Their managers suggested they should get some space to breathe, some time apart to figure out what to do next. How to move forward.

She also remembers Sebastian‘s silence when she got into his car. He picked her up from the airport, his voice was coated in disappointment and hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”, he had asked her when they parked outside his house. “We didn’t tell anyone.” “I’m not anyone.”

Y/N sighs as she brings the cup of coffee up to her lips. The cold air feels good on her hot skin as she watches the sun rise over the mountains.

“Morning.”

The young woman flinches slightly and when she turns her head she catches a glimpse of the small smile on her brother’s lips:” Sorry.”

Yet she shakes her head:” No, hi. It’s fine. Good morning.” Her hands bring the blanket closer to her chin, while Sebastian sits down next to her, positioning his coffee on the table in front of them:” How are you doing today?”

Y/N licks her lips and immediately regrets it:” I think it’s too early to decide on that.” She wants to sound witty, but it just comes out sad. Her eyes fixate on the mountains and a few seconds later she blinks away the tears that are forming. Sebastian notices them out of his peripheral vision and sighs, his hand reaches for hers.

No matter how angry he has been about her keeping her relationship a secret he still loves her. So much. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”, he lets out after a few moments and watches how a weak scoff leaves her. He wonders what she would say if she knew Lewis has been texting him regularly since they last saw one another.

f1gossipofficial has made a post

liked by 17,198 people

f1gossipofficial: Breaking News! Recent information from reliable sources suggests that Y/N Vettel and Lewis Hamilton have not communicated in several weeks, as they are currently taking a break from their relationship.

view all comments…

user 1: NOT A BREAK NOOOO

user 2: i hope everyone who has sent hate their way is going to have a horrible life from today on

user 3: thank you GOD!!!!

user 4: you’re awful

“Is she okay?”

Sebastian turns his head and when he makes eye contact with his wife he takes a deep breath. “I mean, I always reckoned that something was going on between them… but I wouldn’t know what to do if I was her.”, Hanna whispers and watches Y/N through the closed glass door:” She’s probably dying inside.”

The blonde man tilts his head at her confession:” You knew?” “You didn’t notice the way they looked at one another?”, she asks and turns on the coffee machine:” The giggling and smiling? The way he would always gaze down at her from the podium? He did take more risks whenever she was watching. God, Sebastian.” He lets out a beaten sigh.

“I wish I could do something about this mess.”

“I know you do.”, Hanna says, walking up to him:” I mean, I am glad she’s not using her phone at-.” She’s cut off by the doorbell ringing, and Sebastian rolls his eyes:” It’s 8 am on a fucking Sunday, I swear to God.” He lets go of his wife before walking down the hallway. With one swift motion, he opens the door.

His eyes instantly widen at the sight in front of him.

“Hi.”, Lewis says, trying his best to smile at Sebastian but it looks more forced than genuine. “What are you doing here?”

“I have to see Y/N.”

[lulunothulu]

“Something More”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Content: angst, some swearing, suicidal ideation, sadness, HEA though!!!

I’d like to apologize for being MIA, it’s been a rough few weeks/month. I’m trying to make my comeback so bear with me as I try to get through the asks and drafts I have. Thank you for your patience and enjoy some angst with Jakey boy 💗

You were looking out the window, sighing up at the moonlight when Jake found you. You were wrapped in a fluffy blanket and a cup of tea was placed in your hands when he’d walked upstairs to your reading nook.

He watched as you seemingly ignored (or not noticed) his presence and he couldn’t help but smile. It’s been a while since he’d seen you look relaxed. Not since the last mission you were both sent on.

The mission was supposed to be an “in and out” situation. Get the goods, bomb the shelter, and fly out. That’s what Maverick told you both anyway. Though you’d both been dating, you were allowed to fly together. Since no one but Bradley and Natasha knew you were together, you were both able to get away with it.

This mission changed that.

When your jet was shot down, Bradley spilled all the secrets. He told maverick that you’d both been dating, in an attempt to have you both saved at the same time. Jake knew his friend did it to save you both from heartbreak, but also because they would have chosen to save you first—being a woman and all.

Jake didn’t want to think about it.

No, instead he shakes the thoughts out of his head before approaching you with a sly smile. At the creaking of the wood flooring, he watched as your head swung to face him—your hands gripping the mug so tightly your knuckles were turning white.

“I didn’t realize you were standing there,” you said. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nope, just checking on my favorite person.” Jake’s eyes raked down your body, stopping at the boot on your foot. “How’s the foot feeling?”

How are you feeling? He wanted to ask.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” you tell him. You flash him a tight smile before turning back to the window. “What’s the real reason you’re creeping around the house for?”

Jake sighs, taking a moment to kneel next to you before he says his next words.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Not really but I’m dealing with it.”

“We can always—”

“Don’t say it.” He knew you knew what he was going to suggest.

He’d suggested therapy, even couple’s therapy if it made you comfortable. But like the first time he’d suggested it, you closed off. He was the same way when Bradley had told him to start going three months ago. Jake didn’t want to go, he wanted to deal with his feelings himself—just like you were now. But once he’d gone, he couldn’t get enough of it. The feeling of relief he felt after the first visit was enough to get him to change his mind about therapy all together.

“Baby,” he started, trying not to sound too eager or nagging. “I think it’ll really help.”

“Jake,” you started. “Do you know why I don’t want to go? I don’t want to go because I know what they’ll say. I know what happened wasn’t my fault but it feels like it is.”

He watches as your face falls a bit before you compose yourself and sniffle. His heart broke to see you so down and wanting to give up. In the two years you’d been together and the five since he’d known you, you were always so strong. You never cried, never complained. You didn’t even cry when you fell off the ladder going into the back of the jet two years ago and twisted the shit out of your ankle.

No, you were headstrong and unmoving. So to see you uncaring and wanting to give up, hurt him more than anything in the world.

Bullets hurt less than this.

“I shouldn’t have let you fly with me,” Jake whispers, looking down at his hands by your thigh. “I should’ve asked Mav to move you with Bradshaw, forced you to stay behind. I should’ve—”

“You couldn’t have known what was coming,” you tell him. “No one could’ve known.”

“So then why do you take the blame yourself?” He asks you, head shooting up to look at you. “Why can’t you let me take some of the blame?”

“Because I want you to have that peace of mind that you weren’t at fault!” You exclaim, scaring yourself. “I could’ve done better. I should’ve done better.”

Jake takes your hand, putting the mug on the floor away from him. His green eyes search yours for any hint of the person you once were before that awful mission.

But you were gone.

You were there, but you were gone.

The person he fell in love with was broken, maybe just resting behind that broken shell you put out. Your eyes seemed vacant and your face paler than normal, almost a ghost of who had been. He wouldn’t allow it to over take you, he couldn’t.

“You are so much more than what you think you are.” He watches as your eyes water, brows furrowing in thought and sadness. “Our jet getting shot down was not your fault. If anything, it’s our fault.”

“Jake—”

“No,” he starts. “You’re everything I need and where you need to be. Don’t ever think you’re less than that because of a mistake we both made.”

He watches you intently, almost begging with his eyes for you to take in his words. He wanted a reaction, something to show you’d understood his words and took them into your heart.

“You’re so much more than you think you are,” he continued. His eyes water as he says, “I need you to know you’re something more than what you think you are. I need you to know that what happened falls in both of us and if you think you’re a shitty person, then so am I.”

Jake couldn’t contain the tears now. He cried, wiping his eyes quickly before looking and searching yours for any sort of emotion. He was surprised to find that you’d finally shown an ounce of compassion for him—for yourself. Your hands cradle his face before you press your lips against his, kissing him firmly and deeply with tears falling from your eyes.

“Okay,” you tell him. “I’ll try to do better. For you.”

Jake hugs you, burying his face into your neck and inhaling deeply.

“Just so you don’t call yourself a shitty person,” you add with a small chuckle.

He pulls away with a soft smile before pecking you in the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Jake thought you were talking out of your ass to get him to stop crying. But when you asked to join him the next day at his therapy session, he knew you’d meant it. Though he knew it’d take a bit to get you back to how you were before the mission, he was glad you wanted to take the next steps to recover—to heal.

Because he knew you wanted to be more than your failure.

He knew you wanted to get better.

And god, did he pray that you could be. Because he knew you were in there. And he couldn’t wait to see you become something more.

[puckinghischier]

This is me not knowing if your requests are open, but I’m gonna slide in your inbox anyways. I’m currently on my period at the moment and want to actually die, so this is me ever so kindly requesting for some tooth-rottenly sweet comfort with my boy. Whether it focuses on the reader struggling during her time of month or just overall seeking some comfort, I will happily accept either scenario

jack may have a reputation for being sassy and dry at times, but when he knows you need it? that man turns into the softest person on the planet.

he’s waiting on you hand and foot, treading lightly, not wanting to upset you any further. he’s speaking softly to you, as not to jar your sensitive state.

he makes sure you don’t have to make any decisions if you don’t want to, giving your tired brain a rest. he picks up your favorite take out, bringing it to you in the bedroom and eating with you in silence, never making you converse if you didn’t want to. he’s doing the dishes, finishing the laundry, running you a hot bath.

the days leading up to your period are always spent with you being a little off. your usual yappy nature gone, an overall sadness to your features and tone, and the random bouts of tears and extreme insecurity.

he hates it for you, knowing it’s not who you are, but also knowing you’re trapped in the endless cycle of falling victim to an upset in hormones that tricks your brain, every month. he wants nothing more than to help, but he can’t crawl in your brain and take the thoughts away. so, he does what he can.

he brings you your heating pad and meds anytime you so much as wince in discomfort. he holds you while giving your belly a gentle massage, trying to counteract the painful cramps radiating through your lower body. he make sure you have all of your favorite foods on hand. he watches your favorite movies and holds you when your emotions finally boil over. he reassures you that he loves you, more than you’ll ever know, and he’ll always be there when you need him.

he doesn’t mind being your rock. in fact, he loves it. he loves knowing he’s the only person that can bring you comfort when you need it most. he loves being the person you reach for when you want to be held while you cry over the notebook for the thousandth time. he loves the quality time he always gets with you during this week each month (unless he’s on a roadie) because you don’t want to go anywhere. he loves how you cling to him like a koala, his mere touch enough to relax your entire body.

he wants to be any and everything you need. he loves that most of time, your relationship is happy, go-lucky fun. he loves the banter you two have and the natural back and forth of your conversations. but he loves this, too. the domesticity of it all. he loves being able to switch to this soft, caretaker persona for a week each month. he never understood the way his parents always seemed to enjoy dotting on the other when they were sick or upset, but now he does.

he knows now, that the simplest, yet most rewarding, thing you can do for your partner is to simply be there. to anticipate their needs and show them the physical representation of your love. to be their comfort when nothing else in this world soothes them. be their voice of reason, even when their brain is working against them. reminding them that even in their weakest moments, they are deserving of softness, deserving of peace, and deserving of love.

[ladylooch]

When We Met - [Nico x Lexi]

Vanilla, Nico thinks to himself. That is the other note to what he is smelling right now. 

Citrus, vanilla, and sweet roses- like the pink ones he got for his mother from the corner market earlier this season. 

For weeks, this same sweet, soft scent has lingered in the elevator on his way to practice. Sometimes it is there in the evening too, but mostly in the morning. Like whoever it belongs to just exited the elevator car before he got into it. Every day, Nico has been trying to pinpoint the notes of the perfume. He was pretty sure there was citrus and something floral. It took him days to nail down the rose connection. But the final note of sweetness wasn’t making sense to him.

Now he knows.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, looking down at the elevator floor. Unexpectedly, a sadness drifts through his mind. He knows the scents, but not the girl they belong to. 

It doesn’t make much sense, but Nico wants to know her. She has excellent taste in perfume. What else does she have excellent taste in? He would like to know. He finds himself wondering about it at practice too. Once it happened during a game. Nico plays at too high of a level to be that distracted by perfume. Plus, this is a huge building and the chances of bumping into her are low. 

The elevator hits the bottom floor. Nico hooks a left towards the mail room, opening the door with his fob. He takes in the room of gray mailboxes, seeing he is alone. He walks over to his, sliding the key in and turning it open. He cringes when he sees the amount of mail stuffed inside. The box is almost full. Understandable considering that he can’t remember the last time he came down this way. Getting mail is a mundane task for Nico. Sure he walks by the mailroom every day when he gets home, but those extra few steps feel like too much effort after a grueling game or an OT loss. 

Carefully, he slides his hands on the top and bottom of the mailbox. He glides the big stack of paper out of his box, then curses when the package box key falls to the floor between his Nikes. Nico gets the papers the rest of the way out, tucking them against his chest before he crouches down to grab the key. 

As he does, the door swings open and quick foot steps speak inside. Nico keeps his gaze down, not wanting to take the chance of recognition. His fingers grasp the key in his hand and he slides it into the package box. He twists the lock open, grabbing a package out. It’s a sponsorship box he knew to expect. He shuts the door to the box then stiffens as he smells that same perfume from the elevator.

He shoots up like a bolt of lightning.

“It’s you!”

“OH MY GOD!” The brunette yells, tossing her mail into the air. “I didn’t know anyone was in here!” 

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry.” Nico mumbles. He tosses his mail onto the table in the center of the room, then rushes over to help her pick hers up.

Crouched down on the ground, Nico catches the gaze of the most stunning green eyes he has ever seen. They’re framed with long, curled eyelashes and a soft purple eye shadow that makes them pop. Her face is filled out with a full pink mouth and rounded cheeks that dust pink from their interaction. Long, brunette hair falls over her shoulder where it is held in a high pony tail. Holy smokes, his perfume queen is gorgeous.

“Do I know you?” She murmurs as they stand back up. Nico hands her mail in his hands over, but not before sneaking a peak at her name: Alexis.

His perfume queen, Alexis.

“Uh… I don’t think so.” Nico shakes his head.

“So what did you mean when you said 'it’s you'?”

“Oh! Um…” Nico pauses. How is he gonna say this and sound normal. “I recognize you from your perfume.”

Her thin eyebrows furrow together. 

Shit, that wasn’t it.

“I smell it every day.” He tries agin. She looks to the side, taking a slight step away from him.

Also not it.

“Okay.” She nods, looking down at her mail. She flips it over so the address is facing down. 

“What brand is it?” He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets so he looks less intimidating. An amused smile pulls up one corner of her mouth. Then she sucks her cheeks in, looking down at her shoes. She is wearing black and white Nikes too, but more athletic, paired with light blue scrubs. A name badge is clipped to her pants that says Lexi, not Alexis. 

“It’s YSL, flowers and flames.” She finally responds, hiking her bag over her shoulder.

“Nice. Maybe I can spray some on my pillow.” He tries to joke.

It doesn’t land.

He mutters a Swiss explicative under his breath as she purses her lips together. Her green eyes widen and she inhales a deep breath.

“Sephora has a sale right now.” She offers up. Red streaks into Nico’s pale cheeks. He turns, clearing his throat and heading back to his pile of mail.

“Good to know. Sorry about your mail.”

“Thanks for helping me…?” She murmurs back to him, ending with a question like she isn’t sure what to call him.

“Nico.”

“Thank you, Nico.”

“Least I could do.” He says as he gathers his mail back into his arms.

“I’m Lexi.” She tells him as she holds the mail room door open for him. He shuffles out with his arms loaded down. “Are you going up?” She motions to the elevator.

“Ah, no. Well, yes.” He closes his eyes at his stammering. Damn, is today his first day speaking English? “I am going up, but I’m going to take the stairs. Didn’t get my steps in yet.”

She pauses, like she might say something, then nods.

“Have a good day. Nice meeting you.”

“You too.” He shouts after her before dipping into the stairwell. He looks up at all the flights of stairs he has to climb, then gets to it before he can talk himself into getting back in the elevator with Lexi. As much as he wants to, he thinks he’s freaked her out enough today. 

By the time Nico gets to his floor, he is huffing and puffing. He may be in peak condition right now for hockey, but skating is no match for the strength it takes to climbs that many stairs. Sweat spills from his hairline, beading down his neck and shoulders to collect at the small of his back in a puddle. He struggles to pull the keys to his place out, dropping mail with each movement. He gets the door open, collecting the envelopes then letting the door slam behind him after he gets into his place.

“Fuck me.” He mutters, going directly to the table to drop it all off. 

A quiet knock hits his front door. Nico looks towards it with narrowed eyes then stalks over to the door, annoyed by everything that has occurred in the last ten minutes. He flings the door open, expecting to see one of his teammates who also lives in the building.

Instead it’s Lexi. 

Nico softens his face, seeing her holding an envelope addressed to him in front of her coy face.

“You dropped this.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He smiles sheepishly, grabbing the envelope from her hand. “I swear I’m not normally that weird. I’m very normal.” A smile stretches her perfect, pink lips apart. Lips that Nico wants to feel brushing against his, that perfume he is obsessed with melting into his skin from her body heat meeting his. 

What is wrong with him? He just told her he is normal and now he’s picturing her kissing him and grinding into his-

“Good to know this is what my perfume turns you into… bye Nico.”

Nico’s heart flutters in his chest. Did she just… flirt with him? His brown eyes raise over her head for a second, then come back to her face.

“See you around?”

“Yeah.”

“Say hi when you do.” She offers as she walks backwards.

Nico’s lips part in surprise and awe, unable to move his mouth to speak anything else to her. 

An easy wave is lifted over to him as she heads back into the elevator. 

The strangest giggle comes out of Nico’s mouth as he walks back into his apartment. He catches his reflection in the windows across the room. He looks like all seven of the dwarves wrapped up into one person. 

He may have just met her, but Nico Hischier is hooked on more than just Lexi’s perfume.

Read more Nico and Lexi here.

[hydrangeapartridge]

Overindulging (EmmRook short fic)

Summary: Emmrich gets upset because he put on a little weight. Rook is here to reassure him.

The first part is mostly sfw, I signaled the moment we switch to a more heated (E-rated) exchange, please mind it.

Part of my EmmRook post game (so may contain spoilers) short-fics found here on AO3 (or on my blog with the Emmrich x Rook tag).

Rook was absentmindedly getting dressed when a very highpitched, scandalized noise startled her. It wasn’t coming from veyr far away, and she only needed to turn around to find Emmrich staring intently at his midsection, his fingers frozen over the buttons of the waistcoat he was fastening. It was his favourite one, the green one with the golden buttons.

« Darling » He called out to her, distress clear in his voice. He looked up to meet her eyes, sadness mixed with frustration in his warm brown gaze. « It doesn’t fit anymore » He stated, and indeed, Rook could see the first two buttons were fastened but the effort of it was dangerously straining the fabric. As for the last one, it would be impossible to fasten without tearing the lovely piece of clothing and ruining it.

« Well I suppose you’ll have to wear another one » Rook offered with an apologetic smile. She was ever the optimistic one of the two.

Emmrich sighed in defeat, undoing the hardly fastened buttons in a smooth gesture. However right it was, his lover’s proposition, and the implications behind his failure at getting dressed didn’t sit well with the watcher.

« I knew I had gained a little weight, there are always ups and downs in a year. But I’ve owned this waistcoat for decades and it always fit » He complained, pained and irritated. « Now I’ll have to get my entire wardrobe mended and ajusted... »

Rook stepped closer to her lover and placed a tender hand on his elbow to try and pull him out of the spiral of negativity he was losing himself into.

His slight increase in waist circumference wasn’t a surprise, for they had probably overindulged in the last months when it came to food. Emmrich took a sabbatical so they could undertake a journey around Thedas to reconnect with their former companions of the Veilguard, and check on the reconstruction of the cities destroyed by the Blight.

Those long weeks turned months had been a wonderful succession of heartwarming reunions, all of which of course around generous amounts of food and drinks. Rook and Emmrich had been delighted to discuss with their friends while sharing large meals made of the most delicious dishes, whether grilled, or fried, or covered in rich sauces, as well as around tea-times assorted with the softest buttery and flaky pastry. And not to forget the syrupy wines and bittersweet cocktail. Emmrich wasn’t known for his gluttony, but he still really enjoyed a good meal, as well as the cultural enlightment of discovering local dishes. On the way home, he kept reminiscing the taste of the famous llomerryn red sauce from Rivain or the Gnocchi from Antiva.

Pair that with a hectic schedule preventing them from exercising as they usually did, and you got a few more pounds.

It was nothing too serious. Rook herself had gained a little chub around the thighs and waist, but she understood Emmrich’s concerns. He liked to look clean and sharp, and had a strong taste for elegant fashion. All his clothes were also tailor-made and cost a pretty penny, which was an investment he made for the long run. He took very good care of his belongings and she could see why it would upset him to be forced to have them remade.

Rook gently squeezed Emmrich’s elbow. “I’m sure there is no need to come to that yet. A little more exercise and lighter meals should do the trick. You’ll be back in shape in no time”

She tried to reassure him, but Emmrich wasn’t having any of it. He placed a hand over his stomach and squeezed the fat there though the fabric of his expensive white shirt, then clicked his tongue. “I fear it won’t be that simple. Each year staying fit becomes more and more challenging. I’m getting limp and my skin will only keep sagging until I all wrinkled and flaccid. I’ll gradually wilt before your very eyes darling, this is only the start”

Oh.

So that’s what this was about.

Emmrich had partially made peace with his mortality when he brought back Manfred, and he had accepted that Rook loved him and wanted to be with him on the long run despite their difference in age. However his fears and insecurities resurfaced from time to time.

Rook’s heart sank in her chest and she pressed herself against her lover, circling her amrs around his waist, hoping her presence would comfort him better than words would. From experience, she kew that when he was in this state, there was no reasoning with him; no appealing to his usual logic. The last thing she wanted was to get into a fight because of such a trivial problem. Well, trivial to her. They already did fight several times because she brushed off his heartfelt concerns too casually and now she knew better than to lose her temper over this.

Emmrich grew silent, and soon, he hugged Rook back, the palms of his hands pressing against her back.

They stayed in this embrace for a while, Rook listening to his heart while he breathed in the familiar smell of her hair.

“You know I’ll always love you” Rook promised against his chest, and she heard his resulting deep, shaky exhale close to her ear.

“I know darling” He sighed. “It is not my intention to question that… but sometimes it feels surreal” he kissed her temple before he continued. “And sometimes I cannot help but regret that we didn’t meet sooner, or that I wasn’t born later”

Rook looked up to meet his misty gaze, a bittersweet smile on her face. “I understand that sentiment. But I believe things were meant to be this way. I am glad we even got to meet each other. And survived to enjoy the rest”

“Of course, you are absolutely right dearest. I wouldn’t have it any other way” Emmrich caressed her cheek, craddling it in his warm palm. “But the human heart can be weak, and mine is particularly prone to that kind of longing”

Rook nuzzled into his touch “That’s part of why I love you” She stood on her tiptoes, and whispered against his lips “I never hoped to meet such a romantic soul”

She kissed him then, soft and gentle, and he reverently kissed back, both of his hands holding her face like a precious treasure he feared would escape him.

When they pulled back, Rook let the hand that was pressed to his chest travel to his navel. She eyed his reaction carefully, assessing his consent, checking that her touch on the part of him he criticized was still welcomed.

Emmrich didn’t protest, but the attention made him shy, still a bit self conscious, and he distracted himself by replacing a stray lock of hair behind Rook’s ear.

“You are still the most dashing necromancer around you know” Rook said, her usual bright tone returning to her. “And you won’t be alone in your effort. I’ll help. I have a few pounds to lose too”

Emmrich let out an incredulous huff. “Darling there is no need for you to do that. You are simply perfect. Marvelously beautiful as always”

Rook raised an accusing eyebrow and gave him a chastising look which silenced him immediately. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

Rook splayed her fingers moree firmly over Emmrich’s lower stomach. “You know, I’m thinking of a pleasant way of exercising…” She whispered wickedly as her hand traveled lower. “I’m sure it burns a lot of fat”

She pressed her palm against Emmrich’s crotch and he let out a small breathy moan.

“Darling, we were just getting dressed” He protested, but only for the principle of it, his voice lacking any resolve.

Rook hummed “But since you were dissatisfied with your clothes, I think it’s better if you don’t wear them at all”

And so Emmrich was quickly convinced to indulge in a different kind of pleasure.

E-RATING STARTING HERE

After a few heated kisses, and unbutonning his shirt, Rook swiftly fell to her knees in front of Emmrich. Without hesitation, she untucked his crisp shirt from his flannel pants first. Her hand deliberatelly brushed his clothed growing erection before she set on undoing the buttons of his trousers.

“Darling” Emmrich tried to grab her attention and she hummed in response but didn’t stop. “As much as I enjoy the view and the promise of your attention, I fail to see how this counts as exercising on my part”

Rook gave his still clothed erection a gentle kiss through the fabric of his underwear. “Consider it a warm up” She hummed “And a way to show you how much I adore every part of you”

Emmrich let out a languid sigh. His fingers moved to brush against her cheek, and played with the hair there while she pulled his pants and underwear enough to find the most sensitive part of him. “Whatever pleases you my dear” He breathed in that lower voice that was reserved just for her; just for these moments shared between them in intimacy. He always ended up indulging her.

Rook took him in one hand, and splayed the fingers of the other over Emmrich’s stomach. She started stroking him to full hardness, while reverantly exploring the dip of his waist, and the more recent softeness of his belly, where a trail of dark hair led to his growing desire. She loved to touch him. Emmrich was a generous lover and was always the one to insist on how gorgeous she was and to focus on making sure of her pleasure. She desperately wanted to reciprocate the favour. Besides, she knew from experience that for all his composure and restreint, a teasing from the mouth should rile him up enough that he would then be most enclined to bend her over any avalaible surface and take her most ardently.

Emmrich’s self consciousness over his stomach became the last of his concerns when she stopped stroking him and started leaving opened mouth kisses on the length of him. He gasped and moaned when she proceeded to take him between her sinful lips, caressing the part that she couldn’t fit in yet between a few fingers.

Rook moaned around him when she felt his hand carefully grab the back of her head, holding ontop her hair without pressure to ground himself and help guide her. She increased the pace of her ministrations as Emmrich’s voice joined the lewd wet noises she was making. True to himself, he kept praising her, complimenting her skills, singing praises of her beauty as she worshipped him with her mouth.

This was incredibly pleasant, but not quite what she had in mind. She pulled away to catch her breath, lazily stroking him instead, the glide made easy from her saliva and his excitement. Her other hand cupped his balls, her heel pressing into his perineum until he was left breathless and flustered. She then moved to squeeze his naked bottom, a part of him that she enjoyed very much indeed. The number of times she was distracted by that ass back in the lighthouse she couldn’t count on the fingers of two hands.

Now that she had rendered Emmrich silent but for ragged whimpers, it was her turn to talk.

“My heart, you focus on the front of your body because that is the first thing you see. But know that the sight of your backside would make anyone both jealous and enticed” She murmured before giving his tip a quick suck, earning a strangled “Darling” from him.

She squeezed his bottom again for good mesure, giving it a small swat as if to make her point “I have seen the way people look at it. Makes me want to burn their eyes in their sockets”

“Darling,I’m sure that’s no-” Emmrich tried to say between heavy pants but interrupted himself, completely losing his train of thoughts when Rook took him into her mouth again, as deep as possible.

Rook smiled around him, prood that she rendered him silent. She used her now both free hands to grab at his backside firmly, using her hold as leverage to try and take him even deeper with each bob of her head.

Emmrich’s hand tightened in her hair, and she moaned delightfully in tune to her lover’s half hearted and whimpered pleas for her to slow down. She could tell that Emmrich was using the last threads of his self control not to thrust into her throat at his own rythm. His thighs were clenching, his knees buckling, she could tell he was losing it.

He was close. But this was far from over yet.

After a wicked swirl of her tongue around him, Rook pulled back, earning a distraught whine from her lover.

She barely wipped her mouth before she got up and proceeded to quickly take off her clothes. Emmrich’s gaze followed the reveal of her bare skin with a distinct hunger. For a second she had rendered him lost as what to do with himself. He stood before her, painfully hard and half dressed, panting and flushed. He looked ravishing; and she wouldn’t give him the leisure of regaining the composure she worked so hard to break.

Rook quickly stepped back into his arms, pressing her naked form flush against his body.

“I think you’ve warmed up enough” She said against his lips, her hand caressing his chest where his shirt was opened. He tried to follow after her lips but she pulled away, instead hiking one leg up his hip. Emmrich’s scattered brain had mere seconds to gather what was expected of him before Rook jumped into his arms, wrapping her beautiful legs around his narrow waist. Emmrich caught her of course, his hands coming to support her backside while she anchored her arms behind his neck.

“Now it is your turn to do all the work” Rook teased, but Emmrich complied.

“Gladly” He breathed before he crashed his lips into Rook’s, his usual finesse lost in the turmoil of his desire.

Rook’s shorter and lighter figure was easy to carry for Emmrich, who possessed more muscles than would be expected of a scholar. In his endevour to age as well as possible, he had adopted a healthy lifestyle consisting of a balanced diet and a lot of exercise. The watcher valued physical form as much as a keen intellect. To fight the rebellious undead of the Necropolis, one needed to stay in shape. Also, Rook learned when they met that necromancers from Nevarra enjoyed friendly tornaments of battle magic and took pride in winning them if possible. Emmrich had his pride, and trained so he would easily prevail if a student or colleague dared challenge him.

Rook remembered feeling both surprised and weirdly aroused the first time Emmrich twisted the limbs of a Venatori cultist with a florish of his wrist, and then proceeded to send him flying with a powerful strike of his heavy staff. To think she first considered him a delicate scholar when they met, and even hesitated bringing him to the field. How wrong she had been, and how she then had put that strength to good use.

Rook wasn’t too heavy, but to perform the activities they had fallen into, they needed more stability. While he kept kissing his lover, Emmrich walked to the nearest wall and proceeded to carefully press Rook’s back against it. The support the wall offered allowed him to free one of his hands. He held Rook around the waist with one arm, and while his lips went down to explore the delicious column of her neck, his free hand traced a path from her clavicle to her breast, where he focused his attention. He squeezed and pressed just the way she liked, without forgetting to give attention to her already erected nipple. Rook’s head fell back into the wall as an abandonned moan escaped her lips when his mouth replaced his fingers on her chest. In an impressive exercise of multi-tasking and balance, Emmrich’s hand travelled lower, testing the state of arousal of his lover. She could see the bicep of the arm holding her tensing under the strain of her weight, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight. That sight only could have made her ready for him.

To only Emmrich’s surprise, Rook was soaking wet already. He collected some moisture on his index finger still, and proceeded to pet her clit for good mesure. Rook closed her eyes under his expert ministrations, but she shook her head when he started teasing her folds and her entrance.

“Please my heart, I need you now”

To think she planned on being the patient one today. Emmrich’s lips traveled back to her neck, then cheek, and stopped to kiss and nip at her sensitive ear.

“Who am to deny you when you find yourself in such distress dearest” He purred, low and assertive before he blew on her wet and tender ear, making her gasp and shamelessly grind against his erection.

Rook admired the display of Emmrich’s strength as he repositionned her to align her center with his aching need. She was vulnerable and opened, her legs brought up against the inside of his elbow, her ankles thrown over his shoulders and her weight supported by both the wall and Emmrich’s long fingers grabbing her hip dips, her lower back mostly fitting into his large palms.

He entered her slowly, making sure she was comfortable. The sight was delightfully exciting: Emmrich still half dressed taking her naked form, the muscles of his broad shoulders and of his arms flexing to hold her in place as he penetrated her.

A first tentative thrust and then Emmrich pressed flush against Rook, bending her in half and trapping her against the wall while his cock caressed her insides. She felt impossibly full and deliciously stretched, forced to take him without moving; losing the ability to form a coherent sentence from the raw pleasure of it all.

Rook’s moans were loud and unrestrained as Emmrich took her against the wall, deep and slow. Even when pent up, he still was one to make groundbreaking love and not copulate like animals. He did slip a few times however, thrusting harder as he lost a bit of control the more Rook tightened and gushed around him.

Tears wet her eyelashes from how good it all felt, the sensations heightened by the praises Emmrich’s velvet tongue kept drowning her in. He breathily told her about the marvelous display she offered, akin to a nymph straight from an Orlesian painting; a perfect portrayal of a godess of pleasure and lushness. He fed her poetry as sweet as honey while ravishing her with impossibly accurate assaults of her most sensitive places, reaching impossibly deep in this position.

Rook left herself get lost in the pleasure he offered, and soon, as he told her he would hold her like this forever, make love to her endlessly, she choked on trying to tell him how much she loved him, whimpering instead while clenching down on him like a vice, coming around him in a raw display of bliss, tears of ecstasy rolling down her cheeks.

Gradually, Emmrich slowed down until his hips came to a stop. He reclined a little and pressed a few amourous kisses on Rook’s wet cheeks.

Rook’s chest was still rising and falling rapidly when she regained the ability the think properly. Her previously hazy eyes found Emmrich’s warm brown ones.

“I love you” She whispered in a laboured breath as if it was the most important and fitting conclusion to this exchange.

Emmrich chuckled, amused and proud of himself for rendering Rook almost speechless “I love you too dearest”

He released her trembling legs so she could get them around his waist again. She hugged him tight while he held her by two hands under her backside, gently rocking her until she regained her footing.

After a while, Rook perked up, blinking away the haze in her mind only to realize something. She looked between them, where he was still hard against her. “You didn’t-” She started, looking to Emmrich. “What about you?” She asked, dejected. She wanted this to be about him and it ended up being about her again.

Emmrich’s chuckle was low and pleasing to her ears. “I believe I ought to prolonge the effort for the exercise to truly be efficient on burning calories.” He said, a mysterious smile on his thin lips. “A ratio of three to one should suffice for today don’t you think?”

Rook blinked owlishly. She had no clue what he was talking about.

Emmrich let her think about it, amused by her airheaded state. He took a step back, then turned and walked to their bed where he carefully dropped Rook on her backside on the silken covers.

“What ratio are we talking about?” Rook asked as Emmrich caught her leg by the ankle and brought it to his lips for a tender kiss to her malleolus.

“Orgasms of course darling. One for me after three for you” Emmrich replied like it was the most obvious of things. His assertive brown gaze pinned Rook down, making her feel like a meal on display. “If you’d be kind enough to help me keep on exercising of course” He added lowly, in that tone that made her wet without being touched.

Rook inhaled sharply, feeling herself ready to go again. She couldn’t possibly refuse such an offer.

“Well, I did say I’d help…”

[yezzns]

{10:47pm}

pairings: idol!yeonjun x gn!reader

wc: ≈740 words

genre: angst, implied strangers to lovers, lovers to exes, right person wrong time (?) trope.

warnings: lame attempt of angst, self destructive relationship, yj kinda plays the victim, one (1) curse word.

not proofread

The city was cloaked in the heavy embrace of night, the distant hum of traffic blending with the steady drizzle that fell from the sky. You sat in the corner of your once-shared apartment, the flickering light from a lone lamp— the one you bought on your first anniversary, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The room, once filled with laughter and love, now felt like a tomb of broken dreams and shattered promises.

More under the cut!

Yeonjun stood by the window, staring out into the rain-soaked streets, his silhouette a stark contrast against the glass. His shoulders were tense, his posture rigid. The silence was suffocating, filled with unspoken words and unresolved pain, but in retrospect, it’s been like this for a while, so long that you can barely remember anything but this.

“How did we get here?” Your voice was a whisper, barely audible over the patter of rain against the window. Hugging your knees to your chest while trying to contain the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

Yeonjun didn’t even turn to face you— coward. “I don’t know,” he replied, his voice hollow, devoid of the warmth it once held. “I really don’t know.”

Your heart ached at his indifference. You had been so in love, so certain that nothing could come between you. But now, standing on the edge of a precipice, you can’t recognize the person he has become. Or maybe it’s yourself you can’t recognize, months have passed since the last time you felt at ease.

“Is this it, then? Are we really ending things like this?” You scoffed, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling. You hated how desperate you sounded, how broken.

Yeonjun finally turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “You know my career is important for me,” he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. “How selfish do you have to be to make me choose between my dream and you?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. “I didn’t—” you started, voice trembling. “I never wanted you to choose, but I’m so fucking unhappy. You’re never here anymore.”

His expression softened for a moment, but then the hardness returned. “And you think it’s easy for me? That I’m not exhausted?” he said. “I gave up my whole youth for this, ___. I can’t go around wasting my time in distractions.”

Well, ouch. The words hung in the air, heavy and final. You knew he was right. And you had become a twisted version of what you once were, love poisoned by insecurity, unmet expectations and lack of communication. But knowing it didn’t make it hurt any less. After a while, you broke the silence, just to make this moment last.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Your voice barely a whisper. “You were so offended that we didn’t serve ramen at the restaurant.”

A sad smile tugged at the corner of Yeonjun’s lips. “Yeah, I remember. And then the next week you added it to the menu.”

You laughed softly, the sound tinged with sadness, thinking of the way he’d stop by your parent’s restaurant every week after that, a little hiding spot in his almost non existent free time. “And now look at us. We’ve come so far, only to end up like this.”

Yeonjun took a deep breath, the weight of their shared past pressing down on him. “Maybe... maybe it’s for the best,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “Maybe we need to focus on what really matters again, get our lives back on track.” What really matters.

The thought of a life without him was unbearable, yet the thought of continuing this toxic dance was equally painful. What felt like a daydream soon turned into a nightmare, the promises he couldn’t keep of balancing his career and your relationship, the forgotten birthdays, missed calls and the cold shoulder you’d give him out of spite. It was self-destructive.

But oh, the good days. Your first month together lingered in your mind for longer than you wanted it to. When it was all about stolen kisses, passionate touches and getting to know each other.

“I wish things would’ve ended different,” he continued, glistening gaze with unshed tears drifting to a picture of the two of you hung up on the wall.

“I wish things never ended.” You replied with a sad chuckle. “It feels like you don’t care.”

He sat in silence, ignoring your statement, the rain a constant backdrop to your unraveling. There were no more words left to say, no more apologies or promises that could mend the fractures in your hearts. All that remained was the painful acceptance that sometimes love wasn’t enough.

Yeonjun moved toward the door, the finality of his actions like a knife to your heart. He paused for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. “Take care of yourself,” he said softly, his voice filled with a sorrow that matched your own.

“I love you,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as you didn’t expect an answer.

And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the dimly lit apartment, the echo of his presence lingering in the shadows. The weight of your goodbye crashed down on you as his steps became inaudible, the possibility of never seeing who you thought was the love of your life again being more than you could handle.

In the quiet of the night, surrounded by memories of what once was, you allowed herself to grieve. Your love had been beautiful and passionate, but it had also been destructive and painful. And now, as you faced the prospect of a future without him, you knew that healing would take time.

And maybe, just maybe, you would look back and remember not the pain, but the moments of love and laughter that had once defined what you had.

A/N: this is my first time writing omg 🥴. English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes, I don’t know if I could express the feeling I wanted to but I’m really content w this work!

[the-bi-space-ace]

Okay I’m going to talk about cutting off Crosshair’s hand because while I know plenty of people see a lot of symbolism in it and think it was a good decision I have things to say about it.

I have CPTSD which has a lot of different symptoms. One of them is trembling or shaking. There’s a lot of complexities tied up in it but I’m not going to go into more detail because it’s not a fun thing to talk about.

What I liked about Crosshair’s trauma was that it impacted him not only mentally and emotionally but also physically. It’s very representative of what it’s actually like dealing with symptoms from something like PTSD and CPTSD (there are differences between these two that I won’t go into rn). I loved that we got to see a physical symptom of something psychological. It’s so rare that it’s handled well. Because yeah meditation and safety will help, certainly, but oftentimes it’s not the end all be all. I’m safe. I’m protected. I take care of my mental well being. But I still have symptoms that say the opposite. Because it’s not as simple as ‘no longer in the bad situation therefore the symptoms will stop’. I’ve made my peace that it’s lifelong and, honestly, Crosshair’s symptoms would be lifelong as well.

Cutting off his hand…

Here’s the thing.

The show really makes it seem like cutting off his hand is something he needed to move forward. He needed to be rid of the symptom because it was a physical reminder and it was holding him back from moving on. Cutting off the hand means no more shaking which means he’s healed. No more shaking hand=no more trauma. He can finally move on with his life.

And to that I say ouch.

There’s been plenty of times my symptoms are inconvenient to myself or others. Times when I wish I could just make it stop. Times when I’m terrified that it’s holding me back and I’m screwed up and that’s all I’ll ever be: broken. There are plenty of times I know people wish i could just knock it off and get over it and cut it out but that’s not how it works. Like I said. I’ve made peace with this thing that’ll be with me forever.

It was refreshing to see him try to adapt to dealing with it instead of ignoring it or trying to get rid of the part of him that was hurting. I loved that. It was such a freeing thing to see. Someone who will live with the hurt and the symptoms and it doesn’t make him any less. It just makes him have to do life a little different.

I hate that they cut off his hand. I hate that it wasn’t handled with any sort of nuance or delicacy. And I hate that this thing that made me so proud of him, so proud to share something with him, just got cut off for… what? Shock? To ‘fix’ him?

If we had gotten more time with the loss of his hand maybe I’d feel differently. Hell, I’d love to see how Crosshair adapts to losing his hand, see how he learns to accommodate. It would give him and Echo something to bond over and talk about, finding healing with each other. I think this could’ve been done well. I’d still be on the fence about it but I would’ve held my breath and saw how it played out.

I fully expect people to roll their eyes at me here. I expect that people will say that I just don’t get it or that this isn’t what they intended. I’m sure this isn’t what they intended. At least I hope it isn’t. But what they intended doesn’t change how insensitively this was handled after a whole season of him unpacking his hurt and trying to learn to adapt to it. No one reacted to it, not even Crosshair, and we got no unpacking of what happened. I’m not happy with this but it is what it is I guess.

[emblazons]

ayooooo babygirl got “dumped” by a man who was doing phenomenal…until he was told he should care about his partner as a person, bailed on her sister’s birthday and showed up three hours late to her move because he was hungover with a “my feelings have changed” and “we (he) moved to fast.”

Guess it’s time to nerd out on main again and stop pretending I give a fuck about types of whiskey, listening to someone talk about sex with their ex or moving to Colorado to be a housewife…from my new LA loft? Lmao

[butteryunlikelylady]

it was never my life to live and he didn’t fall for the real me… he fell for an accessory and thought he could just change the label while things stayed the same

[killmymind]

i don’t think i’ve ever felt this lost in my life. tbh

[binders-and-beanies]

Did my night routine for the first time in idk how many months (skin care etc) and it sucks how it used to be a crucial thing that helped hold me together, similar to many things I’ve had to give up that used to feel essential (like yoga and meditation and drawing and a morning routine) n now those are all things I do at like the end of the semester when I’ve finished my work. I forgot how much it helps my mental health just to like. Have a smooth nice smelling face n massage my top surgery scars n take a moment to appreciate my chest etc. I also did some cleaning n it sucks how cleaning one’s living space is considered a weekly necessity for a lot of people and an occasional luxury for me. But that also makes me notice more how much a cleaner space helps my mental health. I always say I can’t wait to be a person again and not just a student but every time I get to do a Damn thing for myself it’s p much spiritual bc of how rare it is these days

[justinefrischmanngf]

HAVE SHIFTS FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS AND BY GOD ARE THEY SEXY!!!!!!!!!!

[mishtershpock]

.

[eorzeanflowers]

I really wish my adhd would do the whole focus thing on drawing instead of video games sometimes.

[cerealmonster15]

I grew up eating.L bean soup + rice that my dad cooks bc that’s like, a Colombian staple, and I know the general seasonings that go into it and my dad taught us cooking growing up so it’s not like I’d never seen the process

But also his style of cooking isn’t exactly recipe or exact measurements bc he’s been doing it for years , but I swear when I do it I almost never get the seasoning right and I’m never sure what it is i did wrong, like If I was missing something or had too much of something or both or what!!!