#like what if I had done that and they had fixed things and today I was a better adjusted person with my own flat in the city??

[pastryfication]

hii please could you do another leclerc sister! reader imagine where arthur gets dropped by ferrari or dosent get a seat and he’s upset and reader and charles comfort him? x

the weight of the world

pairing: leclerc sister!reader x leclerc brothers note: thank you for requesting!! as an older sister, this was very easy to write.

the news hit like a harsh punch to the gut. arthur had been dropped by the ferrari driver academy, and without a seat for the next f2 season, it felt like everything he had worked so hard for was slipping through his fingers.

your childhood house was eerily quiet as you entered, the rooms filled with the heavy silence of disappointment. arthur had withdrawn from everyone, retreating to the living room where he sat, slumped against the couch, his head buried in his hands.

you hovered near the doorway, watching him from afar. his shoulders were stiff, his body rigid with the weight of what had happened. arthur had always been resilient—he fought hard for everything, just like all of you had, but today, he looked fragile, like the world had finally caught up to him, and the cracks were starting to show.

you walked in quietly, lowering yourself onto the couch beside him. “arthur?” you called softly, careful not to startle him.

he didn’t respond. his hands stayed tangled in his hair, and his eyes were focused on the floor. his breathing was shallow, and you could tell he was trying to hold everything in, but his walls were crumbling, slowly but surely.

“i’ve failed,” he muttered, his voice rough and barely audible. “i’ve let everyone down.”

your heart clenched at the sound of his voice, raw and laced with pain. you reached out gently, placing a hand on his back, rubbing slow circles. "arthur, you haven’t let anyone down. this is just a setback.”

he shook his head, his jaw tight. “but i have. look at everything charles has done. he’s won in f2 and now he’s winning races in f1. and me? i can’t even secure a seat for next year. i’m nothing compared to him.”

the self-doubt, the frustration—it was all spilling out now, years of pressure building up, finally breaking through. arthur had always been chasing something, always pushing himself to live up to the expectations placed on him, the ones he thought came from others, but really, they came from inside him. he had built his entire career trying to prove that he belonged, not just to himself but to everyone watching. and now, with ferrari dropping him, it felt like confirmation of his worst fears.

“you are not a failure,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “you’re on your own journey, arthur. it doesn’t matter what charles is doing—this is your path, and one setback doesn’t change how talented you are.”

arthur glanced up at you then, his eyes rimmed red, glossy with unshed tears. the sight reminded you of the little boy who would come crying to you in the middle of the night because of a nightmare, and your heart clenched painfully. “but what if . . . what if i never make it?” his voice broke slightly, and it was like a punch to your chest, hearing him voice the fear that had clearly been gnawing at him for so long. “what if this is as far as i go?”

before you could respond, the door creaked open, and charles stepped into the room. you glanced at him briefly, noticing the concern etched across his face. he had rushed over the second he heard, but now, seeing arthur like this, he hesitated. charles wasn’t used to comforting people like this—he supported you in different ways, always the one who fought through his pain in silence, pushing forward no matter how bad things got.

he stepped forward cautiously, unsure of what to say, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. he looked at you, almost as if asking for guidance. this wasn’t a situation he could fix with strategy or motivation; this required something softer, something more emotional.

charles crouched in front of arthur, placing a hand on his knee. “arthur,” he began quietly, his voice tentative, “you haven’t let anyone down.” there was a small hesitation in his words, as though he was uncertain how to reach his brother in this moment. “i know it feels bad now, but this isn’t the end.”

arthur barely reacted. he didn’t lift his head, didn’t shift his position. it was as if the weight of the news had pinned him in place. charles was trying—he always did—but it was clear he wasn’t sure what to say, or how to truly reach your brother.

you moved closer to arthur, your heart breaking at how still and defeated he seemed. “arthur,” you whispered, your voice soft, coaxing him out of his shell. “come here.”

at first, he hesitated, but then the dam broke. he turned toward you slowly, collapsing into your arms as his body trembled with silent sobs. his grip was tight, desperate, like he was afraid you’d let go if he didn’t hold on hard enough. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, holding him as he cried. your hand rested on the back of his head, and you gently ran your fingers through his hair, whispering soft reassurances.

charles watched, his face full of concern and helplessness. he stayed where he was, not quite knowing what to do next. comfort didn’t come naturally to him in moments like this. he was used to being the one who kept everything together, but seeing arthur like this—seeing him so vulnerable—made him unsure of himself.

you met charles’ eyes over arthur’s shoulder, giving him a small, encouraging nod. arthur wasn’t ready for advice or tough love right now. he just needed to feel like he wasn’t alone, and you understood that.

charles heart warmed as he watched you. the way you instinctively knew how to ease arthur’s pain, how you could make him feel safe with just your presence—it was something he wasn’t sure he could ever do as easily as you. charles cared deeply for his siblings, but watching you now, he realized how much of a rock you were for your younger brother—how much of a rock you were for him too. your patience, your quiet strength—it was something he admired more than he could put into words.

arthur clung to you like a lifeline, his body shaking with the effort of holding everything in for so long. “i’ve let you all down,” he choked out between shaky breaths. “i’ve failed, especially you, charles. you’ve done so much for me, and now . . . now i’ve ruined it.”

charles shifted, his brow furrowed. “arthur, you’ve never let me down. not once,” he said, his voice softening as he found the right words. “you’re not in competition with me. you’ve already accomplished so much, more than you give yourself credit for. i’ve never compared you to me, and neither should you.”

arthur shook his head against your shoulder, still clinging to you. “but you’re always so strong. i don’t know if i’m like that. i don’t know if i can come back from this.”

you held him tighter, rubbing his back soothingly. “you are strong,” you murmured. “you’re stronger than you realize, arthur. just because your path is different from charles’ doesn’t mean it’s over. it’s okay to feel lost, but we’re here. we’ll figure it out together.”

charles nodded, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on arthur’s back. “you don’t have to figure everything out right now,” he said, his voice calmer now, less unsure. “we’ll take it one step at a time. i believe in you, arthur, and so does everyone else.”

arthur sniffled, his grip on you loosening slightly as he pulled back to look at both you and charles, his eyes still filled with doubt, but there was a flicker of hope. “i just . . . i don’t want to disappoint you guys.”

“you haven’t,” you whispered, brushing a tear from his cheek. “and you never will. we’re proud of you no matter what—charles, lorenzo, mum and i are always proud of you. always.”

charles leaned in closer, his hand still on arthur’s back. “you’ve got so much more to give, arthur. this is just a bump in the road. you’re going to come back stronger, and when you do, we’ll be right here with you.”

as charles looked between you and arthur, something stirred inside him. it struck him how lucky arthur was to have you, and how lucky he was too. not everyone had a sister who could hold everything together like you did, especially when things fell apart. there was a strength in you that charles knew he could never replicate, and it made him admire you even more. he made a mental note to tell you later—how grateful he was, how much he admired how you cared for arthur, how you seemed to know exactly what he needed, even when he didn’t.

arthur leaned into you again, this time not out of desperation but for the comfort you were offering, knowing that no matter how hard things seemed right now, he wasn’t alone.

and he would never be alone. not as long as he had you.

[edosianorchids901]

Holding On Forever

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "a sleepy hug"

“Oh my gracious, that was such a long day!” Aziraphale slumped back in the Bentley’s passenger seat, utterly drained. Oh, he could practically doze off right here. “I don’t think I ever want to talk to another person ever again.”

Crowley snorted. “Not counting me, I hope?”

“You’re not a person,” Aziraphale said through a yawn.

Another snort. “Wow. Thanks. Terrific friend, you are.”

“Oh, you know what I mean!” It was getting rather hard to think, everything muddled. And oh, how Aziraphale’s back ached. “You’re a… a… not human. That’s all I mean. Humans are people.”

“Yes. They are. You’re as groggy as I am, aren’t you?” Crowley wrenched on the steering wheel, and the Bentley hurtled down the drive. “I told you that you were overdoing it today. We shouldn’t have done the whole dinner thingy.”

Aziraphale sighed. Crowley had told him, but there were simply so many interesting antiques at the auction, and then lots of rare book collectors to scope out over the “dinner thingy”. But he’d run out of energy quite badly partway through, and pushed himself entirely too hard. And likely pushed Crowley too hard, too. “Are you all right, my dear? Okay to drive?”

“Hn, yeah. Can drive fine. Besides, my car will stop me if I’m about to drive off the road.” Yawning, Crowley patted the steering wheel.

“You didn’t answer whether you were all right.”

“Ngh.”

“I answered you earlier.”

“Yeah, and you claimed you were, and then totally ignored me when I said we should head home.” With a soft hiss, Crowley flicked his hand. Their gate swung open, and the Bentley rocketed through, headlamps illuminating the garden. “So no, I’m not very all right. My legs are bloody killing me, and I’ll be lucky if I can move tomorrow.”

Even as sleepy as he was, guilt tugged at Aziraphale’s tummy. He reached over and over rubbed Crowley’s arm. “I’m sorry. I thought you were more worried about me, rather than wanting to go home because you were in pain.”

“I was. Worried about you, I mean.” Crowley didn’t quite smile—his expression had been fixed in his default glower all day—but he softened a bit. “And s’ okay. I’m not pissed off or anything, just grumpy.”

Aziraphale had to smile at that. Yes, when it came to Crowley, there was a significant distinction between real anger and his usual irritability. And it was no wonder he was so irritable, when he was in so much pain. Aziraphale had found himself getting increasingly snippy with humans as the day wore on and he began to ache more.

“I think a hot bath may be in our future tomorrow,” Aziraphale said as the Bentley screeched to a halt right in front of the cottage. “We can have a nice long soak.”

“Sounds terrific, especially if we mix it with wine.” Groaning, Crowley shoved the door open, then grabbed his cane and struggled out of the car.

Aziraphale struggled on his way out too, rather more than usual. Ordinarily, his back just ached, a mild deterrent to doing too many things in one day. As he found himself with rather limited energy, it was rarely too much of a problem. Today, it was certainly a problem. “Ooh dear…”

“Gosh, you really screwed up, didn’t you?” Crowley asked. He limped around the Bentley and took Aziraphale’s arm, helping him straighten up. “Want tea or cocoa, or do you need to go straight to bed?”

“I want to sleep.” Aziraphale didn’t even want to spend time getting to bed. He was far too groggy, his remaining dregs of energy failing fast.

And Crowley was so close. Aziraphale stepped even closer, wrapped his arms around the narrow waist, and buried his face in Crowley’s shoulder.

“Er,” Crowley said, awkwardly catching hold of Aziraphale. He wobbled a little, then steadied as he shifted his weight to lean more solidly on his cane. “Why are we hugging?”

“Because I’m sleepy,” Aziraphale mumbled into Crowley’s chest. “And you’re nice.”

“M’ really not.”

“Comfy.”

“Uh, okay. I guess. M’ not exactly the ideal pillow you are, though.” Crowley rubbed his back, light circles that felt nice even if they couldn’t relieve the throbbing pain all along Aziraphale’s spine. “Should probably have a drink of some sort to relax before bed. S’ part of the routine, and I bet neither one of us will be able to sleep if we don’t. D’ya wanna head in?”

Aziraphale kept his arms locked around Crowley. He could happily hold onto Crowley forever. “I don’t want to move.”

“Well, me neither, but I really don’t think sleeping standing up is gonna do wonders for my legs or your back.” Crowley pressed a slow, tender kiss to his neck, then nuzzled into his hair. “C’mon, angel. I know you’re outta energy, but you’ll feel better if we go have some cocoa.”

“Oh, all right.” Yawning, Aziraphale let go, and then immediately captured Crowley’s free hand. “I know I ordinarily insist on making cocoa properly, but in this instance…”

He yawned again, unable to finish his sentence. Crowley squeezed his hand and coaxed him into motion. “Miracled it is. I’ll make you a proper cup tomorrow, provided I can stand.”

“Thank you, dear boy.” Aziraphale managed a sleepy smile. “You really are quite good to me, you know.”

Crowley’s scowl softened again, this time into a full smile. “I know.”

[diazsdimples]

This is for @daffi-990 to cheer her up, and anyone else who needs some Kid!Eddie in these trying times.

When Eddie is very tiny (say, around 3ish), his Abuelo shows him the Chevelle for the first time. He takes him into the garage, Eddie sitting on his shoulders, and points to the car, saying "someday, Eddito, this will be all yours," before setting Eddie on top of his tool chest. Eddie sits there, in his grubby little overalls and a backwards cap that's slightly too big for him because it was his dad's, and swings his legs as he hands his Abuelo his tools. At some point, Eddie's mum comes in with tiny baby Sophia, and Eddie gets so excited, wiggling to get off the toolbox like "I wanna show 'fia the car, Mama!" And he stands there on his tippy-toes, peering into the engine bay as he tells his baby sister all the parts his Abuelo taught him about, stumbling over the words sometimes, and his mum and Abuelo watch him with shining eyes because he's such a smart little boy and they're so proud of him.

Eddie helps his Abuelo with the car off and on during his childhood years, especially when he replaces the wheels and Eddie feels like he's doing a pit stop on a racing car. It becomes their Thing, a place Eddie can go to when he needs to escape the chaos of his home. He goes there when he can feel the pressure rising and he needs to blow off steam for a bit. His Abuelo is ageing and finds it a little more difficult to do the fiddly stuff with the bolts, so he's very happy to have Eddie there and instruct Eddie on what to do. And then we have Teenaged Eddie going over because he had another fight with his dad, and he's hammering away at the engine with a vengeance, his Abuelo watching him because he's taught Eddie everything he knows now, and he just lets Eddie work out his frustrations, talking about Ramon and the expectations he has and how Eddie can never do anything right in his eyes. And when he's done, Abuelo takes Eddie's face in his hands, brushing his wrinkled fingers over his cheeks as he wipes away the tears, and he tells him that Eddie is perfect, he's stronger than any kid he knows, and that even if they finish the car, Eddie's always welcome with him and Abuela, if he needs to blow off some steam.

When his Abuelo dies, and the Chevelle still isn't fixed, Eddie makes a promise to himself (and his Abuelo) that one day he'll finish it, and when he does he'll take Christopher for a drive in it and tell him all about his Abuelo, the man who made him who he is today.

[naenaex0xx]

maybe I'm comfortable with tumblr because I get to say things I don't usually tell anyone

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

.

[criscura]

I wish I wasn't so exhausted and I could make more art.... I even planned out a whole prompt-a-day month for Saigenos/Genosai, TWICE, but the first time no one seemed like they could participate when I asked about it, and the second time I friggin lost the damned plan. I could remake it a third time, but I just....I don't know.

I've been really struggling to get along for a while, and I think if it didn't hit it off--or even if I just got really productive and it seemed like I was reaching crickets--I'd be so incredibly discouraged that it would bring me down even further. It usually takes my stuff a few months to a year to get reach, and that really doesn't do anything for me when I need the support immediately.

It's not that I don't have a billion ideas for so many different things, but my battery has been taking longer and longer to charge up and it's been running out faster and faster, and it's been like this for....a year?? Ish?? Maybe longer, I don't know.

I wish I could just stop needing so much fucking time to bounce back.....

[commandermahariel]

siiiiiiigh

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

I’ve noticed something interesting and so I’m going to write it down to reference later.

Roommate is driving to parents’ house w borrowed kayak; needs help holding kayak in place while they strap it onto their car.

They have to leave ASAP; their family is expecting them by a certain time

Raining very hard outside. Not good for sensory.

Hold kayak in place. Get soaking wet. Can’t move or leave or stim bc kayak will fall. Feel overstimulated.

Finish holding kayak. Watch roommate finish strapping it-

Immediately feel like somebody shoved me underwater. Everything feels muted and fuzzy. My body awareness turns distant.

I am able to recognize this as dissociation and try to ground myself. It kinda works. I can at least move and think somewhat.

Get inside, change into dry clothes.

Dissociation ramps up quickly. Struggle to hold conversation w/ roommate. They go to make a phone call. Body feels distant and heavy. Moving my eyes feels like work; I end up staring at a door handle for multiple minutes, causing optical illusions exacerbated by visual snow.

Clock back in at some point; I think we had a conversation about wisdom teeth before they left.

Body is back and operational. I’m still off-balance from how quickly that happened.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[hecksupremechips]

Sometimes if I’ve gotten done with a therapy appointment my dad will ask what we talked about and it’s like. Girl who do you think 🤨

[40steps]

hey i’m a mutual who dropped out in 7th grade and i just want u to know that things will be ok. i’m going back to school this year and like you can just stop either temporarily or permanently. i promise u it will be ok

:((( thank u so much this means a lot to hear . my plan has been to drop out for like two years at this point but i never really expected it to feel this much like a huge change even though it was always going to be. and my mother asked me if i just wanted to drop out when i told her i didn't want to go in today and it's sent me on a downward spiral. sorry for putting this on your dash board whoever is online and whoever saw it.

[arklay]

opens this app, feels isolated, closes it

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[cetoddle-archive]

also i got lots and lots of compliments on my outfit today and they were able to fix my necklace! i only wanted the big knot out but they fixed the other ones for me too and even cleaned it and for some reason they didn’t even charge me !! and i got my book ! yayyy

[charliesinfern0]

staring at myself in the mirror gripping the edge of the sink and gritting my teeth literally nobody cares if you change something in your writing in citrus you’re just starting out you’re going to make mistakes and that’s ok it’s not going to be perfect don’t worry that you’re not working on it 24/7 it’s fine you’re fine

[tvrningout-a]

after today, i feel that i might not be very active till friday evening bc man… packing is much harder than i thought it would be