#but then it feels like im putting barely anything there and they feel like nothing. but no matter what it always feels embarrassing. LMAOO

[its-avalon-08]

im not giving up on you (dr3)

after the singapore gp, i was sobbing. danny, our sunshine danny might be leaving us and that broke my heart so entirely. here is to out honey badger, you made me love this sport, seeing your smile was the only light on some dark days. you made it, you lived your formula one dream and you will always be able to say that. for always making us laugh and find joy in the butterflies, we thank you daniel <3

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, losing his seat, tears, fluffy ending

The Singapore night was thick with humidity, the scent of burning rubber still clinging to the air long after the race had ended. Daniel Ricciardo walked through the now-empty paddock, the silence overwhelming. The once-vibrant energy that pulsed through the grounds was now replaced with nothing but the dull hum of the lights, casting long shadows that made the place feel eerily lonely.

Daniel had always been good at putting on a strong face. Smiling, joking, pretending everything was fine. He had perfected it over the years. But tonight, the facade had cracks — deep, painful cracks that threatened to break him entirely.

After the Singapore GP, the world knew. The news had broken: Daniel was losing his seat at V-CARB. Another seat lost. Another chapter closing. And it felt as though he had lost everything again. He couldn’t bear to face his team, his friends. Not even Max. So he stayed in the paddock long after everyone had left, sitting alone on a stack of tires, his head in his hands.

He didn’t hear the footsteps at first.

"Daniel?"

The voice was soft, familiar, and full of concern. He looked up, blinking through the blur of tears that stung his eyes. There she was — Y/N Verstappen. Max’s little sister.

She had always been around, always there, a comforting presence from the days when he and Max were teammates. She had been his friend, but it was so much more than that. They had danced around their feelings for years, never daring to speak the truth, both afraid of what it might mean.

Daniel quickly wiped his eyes, trying to pull himself together. "Hey," he said, his voice strained, cracking under the weight of his emotions. "What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same," Y/N replied softly, stepping closer. "It’s late."

"I couldn’t leave," he admitted, his eyes staring at the ground, unable to meet hers. "It’s just… a lot."

Y/N stood in front of him, her eyes searching his face. She could see right through him. "You don’t have to pretend with me, Daniel."

"I’m not pretending," he lied, letting out a shaky laugh. "I’m fine. It’s just another bump in the road, right? I’ll bounce back. I always do."

But even as he spoke, his voice trembled, and Y/N could hear the pain beneath his words. She sat down beside him on the tires, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him in the humid night air, but still hesitant to touch him.

"It’s okay to not be fine," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Daniel’s jaw tightened as he looked away, blinking rapidly. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He had always been the strong one, the happy-go-lucky guy who could handle anything. But tonight, the weight of everything was crushing him.

"I feel like I’m losing everything," he finally admitted, his voice breaking. "Like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I fight, it’s never enough. I’m never enough."

Y/N’s heart ached at the sight of him like this — so vulnerable, so raw. She reached out hesitantly, her hand gently resting on his arm. "Daniel… you’re more than enough. You’ve always been more than enough."

He shook his head, biting down on his lip as tears welled up in his eyes again. "I don’t know how to keep going. Everyone keeps telling me to just keep my head up, keep smiling. But I’m tired, Y/N. I’m so tired."

Her hand tightened around his arm, the warmth of her touch grounding him in that moment. "You don’t have to do this alone."

Daniel’s shoulders shook as he exhaled a deep, shaky breath. He didn’t have the strength to pretend anymore. The tears he had been holding back for so long finally fell, spilling down his cheeks as he covered his face with his hands, his body trembling with silent sobs.

Y/N felt her own tears start to fall as she watched him break down, the sight of him so utterly heartbroken making her chest ache. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Without thinking, she pulled him into her arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"I’ve got you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I’ve always got you."

Daniel buried his face in her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist as he clung to her, the dam of emotions finally breaking. He sobbed into her neck, all the pain, frustration, and helplessness pouring out of him. And Y/N held him, stroking his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear.

"I don’t know what to do, Y/N," Daniel choked out between sobs. "I feel like I’ve failed. Again."

"You haven’t failed," she insisted, pulling back just enough to look at him, her hands cupping his tear-streaked face. "You’ve given everything, Daniel. You’ve fought so hard. You’re one of the best drivers out there, and no seat can take that away from you. Not now, not ever."

Daniel let out a long sigh, pulling away slightly from Y/N’s embrace, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. His voice was quieter now, but it carried a weight that hadn’t been there before, like he was finally allowing himself to speak the truth that had been buried deep inside for years.

"You know," he began, staring out at the empty paddock, "when I left Red Bull, I thought I was making the best decision of my life. I really did. I thought… this was it, you know? My time. I didn’t want to be second to Max — your brother’s an incredible driver, you know that. But I couldn’t sit there anymore, watching everyone around me believe I’d always be the second-best. I wanted to be number one. I wanted my own team to back me, to believe in me. And at the time, Renault seemed like that opportunity, like I could prove I could lead a team, that I could fight for championships."

He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "God, I was so naïve. I thought leaving Red Bull would be the start of my rise, not the beginning of my fall. Renault wasn’t easy, but I stuck it out. Then McLaren came calling, and I thought that was my shot. It was McLaren, you know? One of the biggest names in Formula 1. I thought I was stepping into greatness."

He paused, his voice trembling. "And then everything fell apart. From the start, it felt wrong. Like I didn’t belong there. I tried so damn hard, Y/N. I worked my ass off, but nothing clicked. No matter what I did, how much time I put in, it never worked. Every race, every session, I felt like I was slipping further away from the driver I used to be. And it wasn’t just the car — it was everything. The pressure, the doubts, the whispers that I’d lost it, that I wasn’t the driver I once was."

He swallowed hard, the pain of those years written across his face. "They treated me like I was broken. Like I was damaged goods. And I started to believe it. Every time I got into that car, I felt like a shadow of myself. They replaced me without a second thought, like I was disposable. And I tried to be strong, you know? I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter, that I’d bounce back. But deep down, it hurt. It hurt more than anything."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart aching for him, but she stayed silent, letting him speak.

"And then this year," he continued, his voice cracking. "I thought coming back to V-CARB was going to be my redemption. That this was finally going to be the moment where I’d prove to everyone that I still had it. But now… now I’m losing my seat again. And it just feels like the world’s telling me I’m not wanted. That no one believes in me anymore. Every time I think I’m getting back on my feet, I just get knocked down again. It’s like no matter what I do, no one sees me. Not as I am, not for what I can be. They just see what they think I’ve become — a has-been."

Daniel’s voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "I feel… I feel like I’m unwanted, Y/N. Like I don’t belong anywhere anymore. I used to love this sport so much. It was everything to me. But now it feels like it’s slipping away, like I’m being pushed out, and I don’t know what to do."

He ran his hands over his face, the weight of his journey pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "I’ve given everything to this sport. Years of my life, my heart, my soul. I sacrificed everything to chase this dream. And now… I’m just scared, Y/N. I’m scared that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be enough. I’ll never get back to where I once was."

There was a long pause, the silence between them thick with emotion. Daniel’s chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing, but his eyes were red, his cheeks stained with tears.

"I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling like I’m failing. Like I’ve lost everything that mattered. And it’s killing me, Y/N. I don’t know if I can keep pretending like I’m okay, when inside, I’m falling apart."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling him close. "Daniel, you’ve never been a failure. Not to me. You’re the strongest person I know, and no matter what happens, no seat, no team, no damn race can take away who you are. You’ve always been enough."

And this time, Daniel didn’t pull away. He sank into her embrace, the tears falling once again, but this time, it felt different. He wasn’t alone.

His eyes searched hers, filled with so much pain, so much doubt. "What if this is it? What if this is the end for me?"

"It’s not the end," Y/N said firmly, her thumbs brushing away the tears on his cheeks. "And even if it were, you’d still be Daniel Ricciardo — the man I…"

She stopped, the words hanging in the air between them, unspoken for years.

Daniel’s breath hitched as he realized what she was about to say. "Y/N…"

She looked away, her own tears threatening to spill over. "I’ve loved you for so long, Daniel. And I hate seeing you like this. I hate that you’re hurting, and I hate that I never told you sooner because maybe… maybe you wouldn’t have to go through this alone."

Daniel was silent for a moment, his mind racing as her words sank in. He had always known. Deep down, he had always known. But hearing it, finally hearing it… it shattered something inside him.

"I’ve loved you too," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve loved you since… since forever, Y/N. But I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. I couldn’t lose you."

She looked at him, her heart breaking at the sight of the tears in his eyes. "You could never lose me."

Daniel leaned his forehead against hers, his breath shaky as they both cried, the weight of their unspoken feelings finally crashing down on them.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I’m here," she replied, her arms wrapping around him again, holding him as if she would never let go.

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other, their tears mingling in the humid night air. And when the exhaustion finally overtook them, Daniel shifted, pulling Y/N down with him onto the bench beside the tires. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, their bodies fitting together perfectly as they lay there in the silence of the paddock.

Y/N rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as they both closed their eyes, the weight of the world fading away for a little while.

And in the stillness of the night, they finally found peace in each other’s arms, their unspoken love wrapped around them like a blanket, protecting them from the world outside.

the next day

The next morning, the sun filtered through the windows of the small café tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the paddock. Daniel felt lighter today. His heart still ached, the reality of his situation hadn't magically disappeared overnight, but there was something different. A quiet peace had settled inside him. Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t carrying his burdens alone.

He glanced at Y/N across the table. She was scrolling through her phone, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she absentmindedly tapped her fingers against the table. His chest warmed at the sight of her. Y/N was always there, had always been there, but now it was different. Last night changed everything.

They hadn’t said much that morning, but they didn’t need to. She had been a constant presence at his side, making him feel like, no matter what, he’d be okay.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence. “You ready for this?”

Daniel chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Depends. Is Max going to kill me or just be incredibly smug?"

Y/N laughed, and Daniel could swear it was his favorite sound in the world. “He’ll be a bit of both, probably. But definitely more smug. He’s been calling this for years.”

As if on cue, Max Verstappen walked into the café, spotting them immediately. He made a beeline for their table, his signature serious expression betraying just the faintest hint of amusement. He slid into the seat across from them, a wry smile on his face.

"Morning," Max said, folding his arms across his chest, eyes flicking between the two of them. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

Daniel groaned playfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Go on, get it out of your system."

Max leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and grinned. "I knew it. I’ve known it since, what, the first year we were teammates? You two were practically inseparable. The way you used to look at each other…" He shook his head, pretending to be exasperated. "I can’t believe it took you this long."

Y/N blushed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, Max, don’t be so dramatic. It wasn’t that obvious."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Y/N, you’re my sister. You think I didn’t notice how every time Daniel was around, you’d act different? Or how he was always finding some excuse to come over when you were visiting?"

Daniel groaned again, leaning back in his chair. "Okay, okay, you were right. Is that what you want to hear?"

Max smirked, taking a long sip of his coffee. "Yes. Yes, it is." He paused, then his expression softened, his teasing giving way to something more sincere. "But seriously, I’m happy for you both. You’re good together."

Daniel felt his heart swell at that. Max wasn’t the type to dish out compliments easily, especially when it came to his sister. He knew how protective Max was of Y/N, and hearing those words meant more than he could express.

"Thanks, mate," Daniel said quietly, meeting Max’s gaze. "It means a lot."

Max gave a small nod before turning his attention to Y/N. "Just promise me one thing — if he does anything stupid, you’ll let me know so I can give him hell for it."

Y/N laughed, giving her brother a playful shove. "I’m pretty sure I can handle him, Max."

Max grinned. "I have no doubt."

The three of them fell into an easy rhythm after that, the conversation light, the teasing back and forth, just like old times. For a brief moment, it felt like everything was as it should be — like the weight of the past few months had lifted, even if just for a little while.

As Max droned on about the next race and the changes to his car, Daniel glanced at Y/N, who was laughing at something Max had said. She caught his gaze, her smile softening, and in that moment, Daniel realized that no matter what happened next — no matter how uncertain the future felt — he wasn’t alone.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged. Not just in the sport or on the track, but with Y/N by his side. And whatever came next, they’d face it together.

"So," Max said suddenly, breaking through Daniel’s thoughts. "You’re both officially a thing now?"

Daniel smirked, his hand finding Y/N’s under the table. "Yeah, Max. We’re a thing."

Max raised his coffee cup in a mock toast. "Finally."

Y/N giggled, squeezing Daniel’s hand as they exchanged a knowing look.

Finally.

[grandpasauce]

"bioware's doing the best they can" "they have to trim the fat SOMEWHERE" "they have to move on from the previous games EVENTUALLY" "they ALWAYS have disregarded things from past games" guys........... (ramblings under the cut)

my man on earth....... morrigan is literally claimed By The Devs to be a prevalent character in datv and ur telling me NOTHING that happned to her is worth putting into the background of datv?

you can claim bioware is just doing their job and have all the excuses in the world for them but when u get down to it.... they really just didnt want to deal with anything from the past three games... they didnt want to put the work in to add even CODEXES (one the the easiest cheapest forms of implementing background lore) to this game... the literal game director barely even knows who ZEVRAN is (a MAIN CHARACTER from the FIRST of the series) because they didnt bother going back to replay or research dragon age as a series beyond dai... like... i understand the devs wanting to simplify their jobs and i actually totally agree, they needed to get rid of the keep, that was too much info for them to keep up with.

But they cut back SO MUCH, like an unnecessary amount. Three? THREE choices? AND ALL OF THEM ARE SOMEHOW RELATED TO SOLAS? NOTHING the inquisitor did was notable beyond their relationship to Solas? Nothing??

people are using leliana as an example of something bioware has retconned before because shes alive regardless of if u killed her in dao or not. except the problem with that is that the games DOES address the fact that she's supposed to be dead. like it very much does that??? hello?? id rather they bring her back and address it than just totally retcon it and never explain it

this is such a horrible, disrespectful decision on bioware's part and making excuses for them is WILD. like. the devs are fine i promise u. stopppp telling people to **touch grass** and **take some deep breaths** after I myself have invested over half my life into playing these games just to get slapped with "lol actually none of that matters now hehe" jfc

like i understand fandom can get a lil crazy but im telling u this isnt an overreaction lmao let people be upset about things that theyve poured their lives into for 15+ years

im still buying the game, im still playing it, ill still love it, but MAN this has kind of totally ruined my trust in the devs and im back to being nervous about how they will address things in this game and beyond because it really feels like a big fuck u to long time fans and idk how they wouldnt think it would be perceived as such.

[bitterbutblue]

lingsha moments <3

when you're close to me ☆ lingsha x reader

~ i hope u guys have been doing welllll uni is kicking my ass but ive made so many friends and im happy!!!!! clubbing sucks tho i do not get the appeal sorry guys and gays..

lingsha lovers i hope this helps the lack of lingsha content.., i am starved fr

song: on melancholy hill - gorillaz ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The idea of an eternity, immortality and a life that comes with no end has always been a fascination until it became a reality. Like to never meet your heroes, Lingsha wishes they had never been so ambitious and made their dreams a nightmare. She never cared for the idea of eternity, an idea of rebirth or reliving until she stumbled across you. Because now the idea of having to lose you haunts her every move, the idea of having to lose you haunts her every morning when she wakes up, when she touches you and feels the soft pulse of your heart beneath her fingers as she lays her hand on yours. She takes in the shape of your body, the shape of your face. She runs a hand up your arm, cupping your cheek with a light touch. The human skin is so soft, so fragile. You could bleed any minute, you could fade any minute and it scares her so much.

"Baby?"

Your voice snaps her out of her trance as you blink sleepily, trying to make out the shape of her face from the darkness that she has learned to embrace as part of loving because it's in the dark where she's most intimate with you.

"Mhm?"

"What's wrong?"

Her heart stutters at your hoarse voice, the hint of worry laces your words in such a way it has her wanting to hold you even closer. She acts on her thoughts, resting her head in the crook of your neck as she gently puts an arm around your waist. She feels you smile, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head as you wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to you.

Close to you.

It's all she really wants. She wants to wake up every morning to the sound of your heartbeat, your scent of shampoo and conditioner. She wants nothing more than to write your name in the very stars she looks up at every night so that she can see you every time she looks up into the night. Yet it haunts her, the inevitability of it all.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Don't lie to me, Lingsha."

She can feel your heart beating against her own chest, she can feel your arm tense slightly as move to look into her eyes and it's dark but she would recognise your eyes from anywhere.

"I love you." Is all she says.

She watches you hesitate, worry crossing over your face as you tuck a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. She will always smile when you touch her, even if it's something as simple as a graze of the hand or a touch of the cheek. She smiles now, the morning light barely peeking over the dark curtains and the two of you laying side by side.

"I love you most."

She just pulls you back down gently, returning to rest her head on your chest as your legs tangle together- you merge into one for maybe just a minute where your hearts beat together like a well oiled machine and for a minute she forgets about the briefness of it all.

"Talk to me?"

She shakes her head.

"Later. Just let me lie here for now."

A warmth blooms within her when you just sigh, pressing a kiss against the top of her head once more and she clings onto you like a lifeline.

"Anything for you."

The summer breeze has always been a reminder for Lingsha. The way the air cools during the night, and the cicadas quiet down as the sun fully sets into the evening. The evening nights held so many special memories with the person who occupied her heart, so many moments with your hearts intertwined and written in the skies above for all of the universe to see.

The night sky has always been ours.

A deep, shaky breath is released as she holds her bouquet of flowers tight, close to her beating heart. She hopes to transfer some of who she is into the flowers she holds in her hands as she reaches her destination. She smiles softly when she sees the faint outline of you, her heart twisting.

"Hello, my love."

She crouches down slowly in front of the tombstone in front of her, swallowing down the lump that has begun to form in her throat as she places the flowers down on the side. She takes a shaky breath in, trying to calm down how fast her heart was beating, how with each thump it slams itself against her ribcage, trying to break itself into pieces that would never be able to function the same way as it did before. She touches the edge of the tombstone with her fingers, feeling the rough gravel beneath her fingers as she sits down properly next to you.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come last week."

She leans her head against what was left of you, the scratchy rock being all that's left. She closes her eyes as she lets out a shaky sob, she closes her eyes as she tries her hardest to just feel a heart beating beneath her, to feel the warmth of a human body instead of the prickly grass and dry dirt.

"I miss you."

Is all she can manage out as she grips at the grass beneath her feet, knowing she could never feel your hand on top of hers again. Knowing she could never feel your fingers intertwine as you hold her close and tell her it'll be okay. She grips at the grass, feeling the fragile blades snap as she digs her fingers into the dirt below, anchoring herself the best she can but she's shaking now and she feels like her lungs are collapsing.

She just wants to feel your heartbeat against hers once more, but she knows it would just make it harder for her to let go of you- as if she could even do that to begin with.

"Come back.."

A hopeless cry into the night, begging for a reality that can only be seen in the past- a past where your smile is no longer as clear as it once was and your voice is muffled. You'll fade one day, even in her mind.

She wants to scream.

She just rests her head against what's left of you and closes her eyes- she just pretends it's you. She replays what's left of your muffled voice, she tells herself it's okay. She tells herself you're still close, you're still here.

You smile at her from the stars.

[mikotv]

Silent music

Warnings: Angst, sh(mentioned), near relapse, mental breakdown, a bit dark(??), reader x Simon Riley, male!reader(he/him pronouns), he’s a sad boy, m/n doesn’t get emotions, m/n has shitty parents, self doubt, suicidal thoughts, self destructive thoughts, destructive actions. Lmk if I missed anything!!

A/n: im so bad at English so I’m so sorry if this is written terribly😭 first time writing looong angst btw🫶🏼

He laid down on his bed, the shadows dancing within the dimly lit room. The only thing lighting up the room was the sunset shining in from the outside world.

M/n sniffled, however there was no tears, his eyes dry as he stared at the ceiling, taking in a silent breath in and out, like he was scared to make a noise, scared to make himself known to the room, even though being the only one in the room.

The (h/c) man brought his hands to his face, closing his eyes as he tried, oh so hard to drown out his thoughts with blasting heavy metal into them to the point the music was leaking out of the cheap earbuds m/n bought ages ago. M/n didn’t even like heavy metal all that much, maybe a mainstream song like ‘Master of puppets’ or ‘Cluster’ hidden deep in the playlist somewhere but he never truly got into the genre.

“He won’t miss you.”

Christ.

“He’ll just move on, forget about you, he’ll be happier without you.”

M/n turned up the music louder, getting the warning he was turning up his music too high and that he might damage his ears. M/n didn’t care.

“You really think he actually loves you? That’s pathetic, your own parents never loved you, so what makes you think he really loves you?”

He flipped his position on the bed, lying on his stomach, burying his face in the pillow and hoping it would suffocate him. It didn’t work obviously, but m/n wouldn’t have minded if it did.

He lifted his head from the pillow. M/n tugged the cheap earbuds out of his ear and pulled the strings out of the earphone jack, making it automatically turn off the heavy metal from his music app. He forced himself off the bed, closing the blinds of his and his beloveds, Simon Riley’s, room, the room nothing but darkness.

He stumbled out the bedroom. The dimly lit house making it harder to navigate through the house, but not bothered to flip a switch he had to make do. As M/n trudged from room to room he looked at the photos Simon and he hung up on the walls, how they were both smiling in the pictures as they were taken. It only made him think if Simon was faking that smile, pretending to care for M/n, pretending to love M/n.

M/n shook his head, trying to rid the thoughts of negativity as he made it to the kitchen. Nearly in every room the light was off, thinking about it, they were barely on all month, not since M/n beloved was deployed. Ironic, he started to feel bad after Simon got deployed.

“Pathetic.”

The (small/tall) man inhaled sharply, opening a kitchen cabinet as he pulled out a glass. He turned to the sink and turned the faucet on, waiting 5 seconds before the tap ran cold, dunking his glass under it to stop the water from hitting the sink.

When the glass was full enough, m/n turned off the faucet, bringing the cool glass to his lips, the cold water going down his throat it felt like he froze his oesophagus. M/n put his free hand on the kitchen counter, he felt his hands tremble as he brought the glass from his dry, cracked lips. He turned around, his back leaning on the edge of the counter.

“You’ll never be good enough for him.”

And like a ticking time bomb, m/n’s glass fell out of his hand and onto the cold kitchen tiled floor, ultimately, shattering the fragile glass into shards. “Shit..” m/n cursed, if it wasn’t for the slippers he was wearing, his feet might’ve gotten hurt or started bleeding. He quickly yet carefully moved to get a cloth and a dust pan to clean up the shattered mess he made.

“How do you break everything you touch?”

M/n paused.

No. That wasn’t right.

He didn’t break everything he touched.

“Yes you do.”

M/n felt his hands shake, he inhaled sharply, letting out a shaky breath.

As soon as he tried to block out his thoughts once more he got the cloth and dust pan. Carefully scooping up the shattered glass, making sure to not cut himself.

“Do it.”

He paused again.

What?

“You know you want to.”

No. He made a promise to Simon, to himself. He’s been clean for a year, nearly two. He couldn’t go back on that path.

“No one would know. It’s nearly autumn. It’s getting colder.”

It is getting colder. He barely took his shirt off anyway..

No. He couldn’t. He can’t. Simon would figure out-

“Would he though?”

M/n quickly shook his head, cleaning the shards and tossing them in the bin and drying the water from the cold floor.

His moves, actions, they were frantic, tried to rid his thought. His hands were shaking as he got another glass from the cupboard, filling it up with water again. He turned off the faucet, bringing the cold glass to his lips.

“He would be glad if you were dead.”

“Shut up!” M/n threw his glass of water at the wall. The sound of the glass shattered, falling to the ground.

The (h/c) man sank to the floor, covering his ears and bringing his knees to his chest. He starting rocking himself back and forth, mumbling to himself, trying to reassure himself.

His eyes darted around the kitten, finally his (e/c) landing in the broken shards of glass.

“Maybe it would stop the thoughts if I just-”

Subconsciously, m/n crawled over to the shattered glass, his pj bottoms being soaked by the ice cold water. He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t. But still, he picked up the broken piece of glass.

He started at the wet shard. His hands shaking, what felt like more than before, more intense.

“Go on. He wouldn’t know.”

M/n brought the sharp glass to his wrist that was riddled with healed scars.

Before the glass could pierce through the skin, he felt large hands on his own hand and shoulder.

He didn’t process anything, only the cold glass leaving his grip, then a hand on his chin, being forced to look up.

Simon.

Simon’s eyes were wide with worry. “Hey, hey, hey, look at me. Please, look at me, just focus on me luvie.” M/n noticed the trembling in his fiancé’s voice. He then felt tears welling up in his eyes. Both ashamed and relieved that his beloved was home.

“Simon..?” M/n’s voice gave out on him as Simon quickly moved to wrap his arms tightly around his sweet boy in a warm, safe hug. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m here, sweetheart.” Simon whispered soothingly into m/n’s ear, rubbing soft and gentle circles into the other man’s back.

M/n quickly wrapped his arms around Simon’s neck, burying his face into the crook of the lieutenant’s neck. His body trembled as he sobbed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” M/n mustered out.

“Shh. It’s okay, love..” Simon gave M/n a small yet comforting squeeze. Soon the military man started to pepper small kisses into m/n’s temple. “You’re safe, you’re okay. I promise.” M/n sniffled, nodding as he took his Simon’s words.

Simon soon picked M/n off his feet, then feeling the instinct reaction of his beloved wrapping his legs around his waist. Simon held on tight to his beloved, making sure he didn’t fall.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Simon whispered gently into m/n’s ear. He ignored the shattered glass in the floor and took his sweet boy to their shared bedroom.

He placed the crying boy in the bed, sitting next to the m/n, only to be tackled into a hug again. Simon wrapped his strong arms around his love, his lips pressed against m/n’s forehead. A hand rubbing the (h/c) man’s back, his other hand carding through m/n’s dyed black hair. “Nothing can hurt you now.” Simon pressed gentle kisses into M/n’s forehead.

After a few moments of sweet nothings in m/n’s ear, his body stopped trembling. Simon brought a hand to m/n’s cheek, gently cupping it with his palm. His thumb wiped away the stray tears from M/n’s cheek. It broke Simon’s heart to the man he loved so much in shambles..

M/n looked up at Simon with red, puffy eyes. “Oh my sweet boy..” Simon brought m/n into a gentle embrace again. It made M/n’s heart melt.

How could a sweetheart like Simon fucking Riley be so scary to other people?

M/n sniffled once more, snuggling into Simon’s chest. “I love you so much, you know that right?” Simon said softly to M/n.

“Yeah..I know.” M/n gave Simon a gently smile. A smile that Simon thought could brighten a whole room.

“Good.” Simon said with a gentle kiss to m/n’s forehead.

[bunnihearted]

🧸♡ ⋆｡˚

[guinevereslancelot]

most fucked up thing about the body's response to not eating is when you're so hungry you feel like you're gonna throw up. this does not make it easier to eat food actually

[waywardsalt]

mmmgh

[milkweedman]

ah, the ever-more-frequent Urge To Explode My Brain from unending migraines. a migraine that just lasts the day already sucks so bad. whole day is gone in a blur of pain and misery, right ? a migraine that lasts multiple days is sort of like if hell was real and you were in it. time has no meaning, only pain, etc.

months of migraines... with no break or end or effective treatment and also you still have to work and behave like a normal person because you cannot lie in bed for months not paying rent. well id describe it you but ive fucking lost the plot. its gone on so long and its so bad that when the migraine ISN'T at its peaking on the pain scale and making me feel like if i was hit by a truck that would be an improvement, i start to feel like my head is a vestigial organ that has been removed. cant access sensation in my head and it feels literally disconnected from my body. meanwhile the pain is still there (along with the brain fog, vertigo, nausea, etc) but it feels like its happening to somebody else.

[arc-archernar]

.

[nomaishuttle]

ohhh fml i was like maybe i cn stya up a bit late after all its weekend tomorrow. no it fucking isnt today was thursday i have work tmrw everything is evil always

[graff-aganda]

That time of the year is approaching once again 🥳

[voidimp]

thinking i may have seasonal depression (summer flavor)

[the-kipsabian]

i love waking up to realizations that my life is in shambles and i have no future

[fandom-blackhole]

.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[dragoncarrion]

hmm