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solarspirit · 23 hours

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How They Comfort You

(luffy, nami, sanji, zoro, usopp)

with the east blue five because i miss pre time skip one piece

Luffy

As goofy and dumb as he usually seems, Luffy is actually pretty perceptive.

If he notices you sulking by yourself, he’ll plop right down next to you, holding a big juicy stick of meat to share with you

Food always makes him feel better, so it should make you feel better, right?

If you want to vent your troubles to him, he’ll nod along with a very serious expression and not understand any of it. At least he’s trying!

If you cry, he’ll panic for a second before making silly faces to distract you and eventually cheer you up

Overall, he’s not great with what to say, but his presence and (somewhat helpful) attempts to make you feel better are comforting

Nami

Out of all the Straw Hats, she’s the best person to go to for comfort

She’ll actually ask you what you want, if you need advice or words of comfort, she’ll give them to you, and if you just want a hug or silence, she’ll do that instead

Nami’s a hugger, so her go-to is to give you a warm hug anyway.

If you’re on an island, she’ll treat your sadness with retail therapy. Even if you don’t buy anything, trying on different outfits or looking at whatever you’re interested in helps take your mind off things

If you’re really inconsolable, she’ll offer you something from her treasures she knows you’ve had your eye on. Only as a last case scenario, and she insists it’s a one time thing (it won’t be)

Sanji

Obviously, he’s going to cook for you.

Sweet, savory, salty, whatever your comfort food is, he’ll make it as soon as he notices you’re sad.

Although he already bends over backward for you anyway, he’ll be even more compliant with anything you ask for to try and make you feel better.

If you smoke, he’ll offer you a cigarette and some kind words to tide you over

If you don’t, he’ll still give you solid advice or comfort to make you feel better. He’s pretty logical and is able to figure out how to solve whatever you’re going through.

Zoro

Zoro knows when something is wrong, but doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do about it.

If you’re sulking, he’ll sigh and sit with you until you break the silence. If you don’t want to talk and just need someone to be with you, he’s your guy.

Zoro will give you solid advice if you ask for it, but won’t sugarcoat it. It’ll be blunt and straightforward.

If you want comforting words for him, you’ll get them, but he’d rather just pat your head and listen to you vent.

He’s one of those people who doesn’t know what to do when someone cries in front of them, so it’s a little awkward if you start crying.

If you initiate it, he’ll let you cry into his chest and tell you it’s okay (partially because he doesn’t know what else to say).

He’s not great at comforting you, but he tries his best

Usopp

Usopp relies on humor and lies not fully true stories to cheer you up.

Whenever you’re sad, he’ll come up with a tale of a grand adventure to take your mind off things

Whatever he’s talking about, it’s so absurd that you find yourself laughing through your tears, or so indignant on proving what he’s saying is false that you forget your troubles

He won’t let you be sad by yourself either–if he notices you’re sulking, suddenly the ship has a random repair he absolutely needs your help on, he needs your help with canon practice, any excuse to pull you out of your sadness

If that doesn’t work, he’s always willing to listen to what you have to say and has surprisingly good advice on how to feel better

#luffy x reader #nami x reader #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #zoro roronoa x reader #usopp x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #luffy headcanons #nami headcanons #usopp headcanons #zoro headcanons #sanji headcanons #monkey d luffy x reader #one piece

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iinumakiis · 1 day

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Damned If I Do Ya (Damned If I Don't)

summary: gojo satoru is your average frat boy; hosting parties, serial playboy, and somehow managing to pass his classes all the same. unfortunately for him and his normal day to day, he finds himself becoming far more interested in a new addition to his friend group: you.

pairing: gojo satoru/you

warnings: college au, slight smau inclusions, fem!reader, cussing, eventual smut, angst if you squint, gojo's a lil bit of a whore, not proofread, chapter one of multiple

a/n: decided to start a gojo fic 👹 i'm so excited for this y'all don't even knowwww. dividers by @rookthornesartistry + @cafekitsune <3

taglist: @sad-darksoul @seternic @imaddicted-b (ask to be added!)

masterlist / next chapter

Gojo stands outside of the business building, casually chatting up his most recent hookup before class. The woman wraps her well manicured fingers in her hair, toying with it, obviously flirting with a pristine grin. Which Satoru absolutely acknowledges (more so because half of her titties are out), but nonetheless pretends to be interested in anything she has to say.

Meanwhile, Shoko and Suguru show you around campus, being that you transferred in two months late from Kyoto.

"So this way is towards the business building, usually that's where at the dick-for-brains frat boys hang around-" Shoko is rudely interrupted by Suguru loudly yelling overtop of her.

"Speak of dick-for-brains frat boys: Gojo!" Suguru smiles and breaks into a steady jog, eventually meeting up with the snow haired man and clapping him on the back. "Who might this lovely specimen be?" He remarks playfully, eyeing up Gojo's newest arm candy.

His blue eyes roll instinctively, smile still plastered on his face. "This is Ayaka, the smokin' hot girl I told you I was seeing."

Shoko groans from a distance. "Looks like Gojo has another toy to play with." She spins around to face you, making your expression contort into confusion. Gently, she grabs the sides of your arms, "Whatever you do, do not fuck Gojo. He has a new girl like twice a month, and as the newbie to this city, he would feel no shame in taking advantage of your ignorance."

A frown replaces the look of confusion, your brows furrowing together. "Shoko, respectfully, I'm not really one for hookups anyways..."

She nods in response, sighing in relief. "Thank god, I cannot handle graduating being the only girl he hasn't slept with."

You laugh at her deadpan nature. "Yeah, sounds like that should be it's own personal award."

Suguru turns in you and Shoko's direction, "Come here you guys! Y/n you have to meet Gojo!"

Another groan is elicited from Shoko before she reluctantly leads the way towards the two men, Ayaka having given him a kiss and left for her class. Gojo glances at you up and down and quirks an eyebrow, something bordering on curious. He steps to meet you two, much to his own surprise and extends a hand.

"I'm Gojo Satoru, you can just call me Satoru." He says, eyes hidden behind a pair of round sunglasses, his bright smile plastered over his face.

Your hand timidly meets his and shakes, "I'm y/n, I just transferred here literally this morning." You shift your weight to one foot, already feeling too open from the way he's staring at you, but you smile back at him anyways.

The tension is thick, Shoko awkwardly shuffling beside you. Suguru is thankfully unaware of this and continues to ramble about whatever else they had managed to come up with in conversation.

Thankfully, Shoko speaks up between the two men for you, refusing to stand here and watch Gojo semi-ogle you while trying to hold a conversation. "Anyways, I'm going to finish showing y/n to the science and art departments, you two dorks can kiss or whatever it is you do."

Your wrist is enveloped by her hand as she drags you around the men and down the sidewalk, the both of you opting to ignore the protests of the duo behind you.

For some reason you can't put your finger on, you glance back towards Satoru, only to find his eyes already on you.

Satoru's eyes follow you, watching Shoko drag you to the north side of campus where the rest of the buildings were. He doesn't realize he's been tuning Suguru out the entire time, well, up until he interrupts the long haired man mid sentence.

"So does she have a phone number or....?" Satoru drags the question out, turning slightly to once again face Suguru, who's expression is one of mild annoyance.

"Yes she does, why are you asking?" He crosses his arms and cocks an eyebrow, almost in an interrogating way, causing Satoru's arms to shoot up in defense.

"I just figured if she's going to be friends with both of my best friends, I might as well be her friend too. Think it'd be pretty awkward if I wasn't her friend, actually."

Suguru sighs, but can't really fight the logic. Tapping away at his phone, he sends your number to Gojo.

"Don't fuck up man, she's new."

Later that night, after finally settling into your dorm and becoming acquainted with your roommate, your phone pings.

#edenwrites #g.satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n

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lives-in-midgard · 2 days

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Part of the Community

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When Bucky asks you about the pride parade, you decided that it's the right time to tell him that you're part of the LGBTQ+ community.

Word Count: 810

A/N: Hey everyone I wanted to write this for so long and now I finally did it. I hope you enjoy!!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

When Bucky read about a pride parade in June, he became curious about what it is. So, he decided to ask you, his best friend who is also his girlfriend. You were sitting in the living room of the compound when Bucky came back from a morning walk. You were surprised when he suddenly asked you about the pride parade, but then you started telling him everything you know about the LGBTQ+ community.

At first you were a bit nervous about his reaction to the topic, but Bucky was very supportive and listened to everything you said. Bucky was very happy that these days people don’t have to pretend anymore and that they can be and love whoever they want.

As you were about to say something very important to him, you were interrupted by Steve, who wanted to talk to Bucky about their last mission together.

“I’ll be back soon.” Bucky said and gave you a kiss on the cheek. You smiled and watched him walk away with Steve. You finally had the feeling that it was the right time to tell Bucky, and now you couldn’t tell him again.

You and Bucky have been dating for about four months and you’ve loved every second of it. You tell each other everything, well almost everything. There’s still one thing you haven’t told him yet. It’s about you being part of the LGBTQ+ community and identifying as asexual. This means you have a lack of sexual attraction to others. You have strong feelings for Bucky, you love kissing and cuddling him, but you’re not interested in sex. At the beginning of your relationship you didn’t want to tell him because you wanted to see where this relationship goes, but after a while you really wanted to tell him, but you got so nervous every time. And now as you were about to say it, you were interrupted.

You decided to talk to Bucky about it today, even if it might mean that he will break up with you. The thought of Bucky breaking up with you made you so sad that a tear rolled down your cheek, but he needs to know.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky said as he walked in your shared room.

“Hey Buck.” You greeted him and Bucky came closer to you and sat down next to you.

“You okay, doll?” Bucky asked because he noticed how nervous you were.

“Yeah.” You said and Bucky tucked a hair behind your ear.

“Are you sure?” He asked worriedly and reached for your hand.

“Actually, there’s something I want to tell you.” You confessed.

“Sure, go for it.” Bucky said softly.

“It’s not that easy.” You explained nervously.

“It’s okay doll, take your time.” Bucky softly kissed your cheek, and gently rubbed the back of your hand. After a few minutes, you were ready to talk to Bucky, who was now also looking nervous.

“When we were talking about the Pride parade, there was something I didn’t tell you. It’s that I’m also part of the LGBTQ+ community.”

“Oh, you are?” Bucky asked with a smile and curious what you would say next.

“I’m asexual.” You finally confessed.

“What does that mean, doll?”

“It means different things to different people. Some people don’t have romantic feelings for others, others have little or no sexual attraction, and that’s how I feel I have a lack of sexual attraction to others. I have no interest in sex, but I love kissing and cuddling. I love you Bucky and if you want to break up with me now, I can understand that. I just hope we can still be friends.”

"Doll, I’m not breaking up with you.”

“What?”

“I love you. I’ve been through so many years of torture…I don’t mind not having sex with you. I would never do anything you don’t like or want. Doll, you are so important to me. I want us to be happy and if that means we don’t have sex then that’s totally fine and I’m happy with that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I am.” Bucky said, and you started smiling.

“Oh Bucky, I can’t believe it…this makes me so happy.”

“You said you like to cuddle, how about we do that now?” Bucky asked with a smile.

“Sounds perfect.” Bucky held you close, and his reaction made you so happy. You cuddled for a while until Bucky broke the silence.

“Are you going to the Pride parade?” Bucky asked.

“Yes, I want to go there.”

“Can I come with you?” Bucky suddenly asked and you smiled at him.

“Of course you can.”

“I love you so much, doll.”

“And I love you.”

You’re both so excited to go to the Pride parade together. Bucky makes you so happy and you’re glad that he doesn’t have a problem with your sexuality.

Taglist:

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jeridandridge · 1 day

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For Lovers At Night part 5

My too much gene kicked in so there’s one more chapter of this fic coming. Enjoy!

The text puts a knife in her chest causing her to let out a sob, hand flying to her mouth to cover it. Getting up she walks with her phone in hand out the hall through the doors breaking down only when she’s outside. Letting the sob escape her throat she doesn’t care that it’s starting to drizzle. Taking several deep breaths she tries to stop crying long enough to call you. As the dial tone rings, Melissa feels like her heart is going to fly out of her chest and not in a good way.

“Hello?” A voice on the other end sighs.

“Hon, can we talk please? I need to talk to you.” Melissa’s voice wobbles as she speaks a mile a minute.

You’d never heard her sound like this, so small and unsure of herself in the time that you’ve known her.

“There’s a lot we have to talk about apparently.” You hum. “I need a bit of time, Melissa.”

“Time?” She asks quietly, “how much time?” She’s all but pleading with you at this point and she doesn’t care how she sounds. “I can’t lose you.” She whispers.

The line goes quiet for a moment until you speak again. “I need to gather my thoughts about everything. I think you owe me that much.”

“Okay,” Melissa takes a deep breath. “Just please don’t shut me out.”

“I’d never do that. I’m not an asshole, Melissa. I’m hurt and I need time. I’ll talk to you soon.”

The call ends and Melissa brings her hands to her face holding in a scream. In a matter of hours her entire life got flipped around in a way she never thought would happen. After a few more minutes outside Melissa breathes trying to calm herself to go back to her kids. Going back inside Abbott she cleans up her desk and tucks the card you sent into her purse before the tears start flowing again.

A couple blocks over you busy yourself cleaning up the store and bar in prep for the night ahead.

“you’ve been cleaning that same spot on the bar for ten minutes.” Your friend and colleague Jacob says coming up beside you.

“I’m- yeah,” you shake your head moving down the slab of granite. “My head is in the clouds.”

“And you don’t have that dopey lovesick smile on your face.” Jacob hums, “was it too soon for flowers?” He winces.

“Considering her husband posted on her Facebook for their anniversary last month, I’m gonna say yeah too soon,” You huff tossing the rag down with a sigh.

“Oh no,” Jacob lets out slow and full of pity.

“Don’t do that, dude. I dont need that right now okay? I need to get through this weekend and figure out what the hell to say to her.”

“How did this all happen?”

Looking at your friend with a sigh you slouch forward crossing your arms.

“I looked her up because she’s so mysterious ya know? I looked and she came up, still has old pictures of him and that damn post on her wall. I don’t know what to think at this point.” You shrug completely confused and hurt.

She definitely wasn’t lying about being with women before, that much you knew and the way she looked at you felt real. She looked at you like she loved you. Talking to her on the phone and hearing the sadness in her voice made you even more conflicted.

“You have feelings for her right?” He asks leaning against the bar.

“I’d be stupid not to wouldn’t I?” you scoff.

“Theres your answer. Hear her out and talk to her when you’re ready.” Jacob advises the only way he knows how.

Thinking about your friend’s words for the rest of the day, you go through the motions at work putting on your best fake smile as you greet and chat with customers. As you cater to your patrons your phone sits on your office desk buzzing with a text chain from Melissa you don’t see until much later.

When you get up to your apartment that night you get ready for bed shuffling over to the mattress feeling almost disgusted with yourself. You slept with a married woman and you had no idea if she was telling the truth or not about how she was treated by her husband. The post you saw online rubbed you the wrong way, you were still friends with enough people from your hometown to know what a bad relationship looks like yet you still didn’t know for sure.

Laying on your back you look at the ceiling with a sigh. Now or never, you grab your phone looking at the long string of texts you have from Melissa.

I know you said you needed time but I need you to know I meant everything I said to you. About my family, work, how I feel about you.

I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry. More sorry than you’ll ever know, Amore.

Please don’t push me away.

Dropping the phone onto your nightstand you turn over curling under your blankets wanting to sleep the day away. Only sleep doesn’t come. Tossing and turning with racing thoughts of the redhead you dissect every moment carefully from when you met up until you kissed her goodbye after your date and every single moment puts a ghost of a smile on your lips. Her still calling you ‘Amore’ in the texts made this even harder for you. Closing your eyes you listen to the raindrops hit your window and thunder rumble in the pitch dark.

At the same time, Melissa is overtired and wanting desperately to sleep but she can’t stop the tears or her thoughts from keeping her body awake. She’s never felt like this before in her entire adult life and she knows it’s her fault. She should have never lied in the first place and she sure as hell should have never let Kristen Marie put her on Facebook.

when Joe posted that message on her page it didn’t effect her, she already knew it was for the show he constantly put on for her family of being a good husband when they are all aware he is anything but. What she hadn’t known was he made it public, and now the thought of losing you and explaining everything to her family makes her chest ache.

The following day for you is strange. When you wake at your usual ten am, it takes everything in you not to grab your phone and send Melissa a good morning text as you’d come accustom to. Instead you lay there for a few minutes enjoying the sound of birds outside along with the usual traffic. Getting up and going about your morning proves difficult for you. Once ready for your day you check the time, realizing Melissa had her lunch break in less than two hours. Picking up the device with a sigh you send a quick message.

Can you meet me the cafe near Abbott during your lunch?

In a classroom not far away Melissa’s heart jumps when she sees her phone light up. Opening it immediately she feels hopeful reading the message, glad her students were in gym at that very moment. Not wanting to test her luck too much she replies with a simple yes I can then gets up practically jogging to Barbara’s classroom.

“Hey, I have to cancel our lunch plans today. She wants to meet at the cafe.” She can’t stop the smile from crossing her lips.

“Melissa, be careful with that woman.” Her best friend warns. “You still have to deal with all the legal proceedings with Joe and your mother.”

Melissa nods shoving her hands in her pockets. “I know, I know that. I just really need to see her Barb.” She shrugs with a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Barbara looks at her friend in astonishment. “You love this woman.” She comes to the realization. “Go on during lunch, you text me as soon as you get back here.” She points.

As Melissa’s break time approaches you walk the couple blocks to the cafe on the corner, wondering if you’d see her coming from the school from the window. Sitting there waiting you order a water trying to keep your cool while mindlessly scrolling on your phone. As you do you receive a text from Jacob.

Hear her out and remember she’s hurting too

Letting out a sigh you tuck the phone in your pocket. When you lift your head you’re met with the sound of the door chime and green eyes landing on you. Standing up at the table you don’t make a move, gesturing for Melissa to sit across from you.

“Hey,” you let out not breaking eye contact with the woman. Even dressed in her work clothes she was absolutely stunning. “You look as tired as I feel.

“Yeah,” Melissa takes a seat wanting so badly to hug you. “I didn’t really sleep.”

“That makes two of us,” you nod pushing one of the two coffees in front of you forward.

Melissa looks at you with a grateful not picking up the drink. Just how she likes it she thinks.

“So uh, I’ve never had to do this before.” You shrug not sure where to start.

“And I’m not good with the whole feelings thing.” Melissa adds playing with the corner of a napkin. “I know you owe me nothing, but let me explain everything?” She asks softly.

While you were upset, an explanation is exactly what you wanted. Nodding, you urge her to go on.

Taking a breath the redhead fiddles with the napkin between her fingers. “What I told you about him, everything is true. The cheating, the lying, the not caring, it’s all true. We were young and stupid when we got married, and he didn’t wanna miss out on being one of the guys.” She shrugs taking a breath.

“You’re not gonna tell me you two have kids are you?”

“No,” Melissa shakes her head immediately. “No kids, just an overbearing family on my side.” She chuckles. “In fact, my brother and cousins threatened to kill him after they found out he cheated on me the first time.”

Letting out a puff of laughter you shrug. “Can’t blame them. It’s the Italian-American way.”

Melissa ducks her head with a small smile, eyes going to the paper. “Yeah. And I ain’t saying I’m a saint, I cheated when I was a teenager but as an adult? Never did. My marriage started out fine, but a few years in he got sloppy with hiding it. I never cared enough to ask for a divorce because growing up my mother made a big deal about marriage but anyway,” She shrugs it off not wanting to get emotional. “I didn’t think any of it mattered and I wasn’t good enough for anyone else so why go through the hassle?”

Looking over the woman’s features you see a mixture of sadness and pleading in her eyes as she nibbles her bottom lip.

“What changed?” You ask quietly resting your hand on the table almost touching the redheads.

“you made me feel like a woman that was desirable and worth talking to.”

“Melissa, I can’t mess around with a married woman.” You sigh shaking your head. “I meant what I said in that card, I-“ before you can finish your sentence Melissa hits you with another bomb.

“I asked Joe for a divorce.”

Sitting stunned you just blink at her for a moment.

“He was there at the school when those flowers were delivered. Which are beautiful by the way.” The redhead gives a shy smile.

“Well fuck.” You sit back in shock taking in the information.

“Hon, It was the best thing that coulda happened to me, I finally told him how miserable I was and that’s what I needed to do,” Her eyes water, the dam about to break again as her voice turns to a whisper. “And you gave that to me even- even if that means I lose you.”

Extending your fingers you turn your hand, palm up to the redhead, your fingers entwining together a moment later. “You’re not gonna lose me, Mel. I just-“ you sigh, “I need to process everything and I bet you do too.” It had been a strange twenty four hours and you still couldn’t believe the woman you were in love with was still someone else’s wife.

Feeling the warmth and gentle squeeze from Melissa’s hand you lean forward slightly meeting her eyes. “Let’s take things slow, start over.” You suggest.

“I can do that.” The redhead nods. As long as she could keep you that’s all she cared about.

“Okay,” you give her a soft smile gently pulling away. The rest of your short time together comes easy, the awkwardness chipping away as you two sit and talk as you usually did.

Tapping the screen of her watch Melissa sighs knowing the forty five minutes she spent with you wasn’t long enough but would have to do for today.

“Back to the rugrats?” You ask knowing her lunch wasn’t very long.

“Yeah, Barb is getting ‘em from recess for me. I uh, thank you for talkin to me, hon.”

“I’d never ghost you or ignore you, Mel.” You shake your head leading her out the door of the cafe. “I really, really like you. I meant that. Now we can just pump the breaks a bit yeah? You and your family are going through a lot now.”

“Yeah,” Melissa lets out in a puff of laughter. “I can’t wait to be interrogated by my ma and Nana later at dinner.”

“In that case I’d say that’s punishment enough.” you chuckle putting your hands in your pockets, still a bit of space between you two as you stand there on the sidewalk. “Well, I’ll see you later, Mel.”

“Can- hon, can I have a hug?” She asks almost unsure of herself.

Unable to say no to the woman you step forward wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist in a warm embrace. Closing your eyes you take in the feel of her body, her signature smell, how her hands feel playing with the back of your jacket.

“Thank you, Amore.” She whispers, most definitely needing the loving touch as much as you did. The redhead pulls back first, giving you that shy smile that has just the corner of her lips up slightly.

“I’ll see you soon.” You assure her, knowing that you really couldn’t stay away from her long, especially now.

In the Schemmenti household a weekly dinner happens at Nanas house, and this week was no different except when Melissa pulls up with a large tray of ziti she only sees her parent’s car in the driveway. Coming into the house with the tray she smells food cooking and her nana talking, that was a good sign.

“Is a hit happening?” She pokes her head into the kitchen.

“My mia Cara!”

Maria Schemmenti crosses the kitchen going right to her granddaughter kissing her cheeks and taking the tray from her. “Come sit, food is almost done.”

Even though she’s up in years the oldest redhead that Melissa took after the most in looks and actions moves swiftly going back to her many dishes on the stove.

“Hey kiddo, you okay?” Johnny Schemmenti was a no nonsense guy, always ready to jump into action for his family especially his mini me Melissa. Sharing the same green eyes the two hug and Johnny places a kiss to his daughter’s head.

“Ya know what dad? I’m better than I’ve ever been.” She smiles moving to sit back down with her dad. “Ma looks pissed.” She says quietly watching the blonde woman move around the kitchen.

“Hi, ma.” The youngest redhead calls out getting no reaction from the woman.

“Melissa I will speak to you when I’m done helping your nana.”

“Caterina don’t give that girl the cold shoulder.” Nana points at her.

“That’s okay, Nana. I’m the only one here so apparently I’m in for an ambush. Did you put the hole in the backyard, Ma or is it somewhere else?”

Johnny has to bite back a laugh hiding his proud smirk with his beer bottle.

“Melissa this isn’t an ambush. I’m only wondering why you had to cause a scene instead of telling us you weren’t happy.”

“Mi stai prendendo per il culo,” Melissa huffs.

“Melissa Ann!” Caterina snaps.

“If this is how dinners gonna go tonight I’m outta here. I don’t need all this. Nana, dad, I’m sorry I’ll see you on Sunday.” She gets up kissing her dad’s cheek, grabbing her purse as she goes.

“Sit back down, Tesoro. Your mother means well but she ain’t going about it the right way.” Maria shoots her daughter in law a look that gets a huff from the blonde.

Melissa listens to her Nana, sitting back down next to her dad. Elbows on the table she covers her face with her hands taking a breath feeling like she’s a little kid that was caught and is now getting in trouble.

“Look you wanna know what happened? Joe cheated on me for years, did ya know that? That weekend the guys had the cops called on them and I had to sweet talk the cop? Yeah, they were ready to kill him. We done here now?” Melissa lets out with a challenging look to her mother.

That night almost ten years ago had been a rough one. A bunch of the cousins rented a house in the Poconos and the long weekend in the summer heat ended with Joe taking off on a four wheeler and Johnny Junior having his hand stitched up in the cabins kitchen after a drunk Joe made a joke about another woman he was seeing. Junior and the cousins scared him good, eventually the cops came ruining the weekend for Melissa.

“The boys knew this whole time?” Caterina asks quietly.

“Of course they did. So did Barb, and Nana.” She nods to her grandmother taking a breath.

Melissa’s mother looks at the oldest woman with an agape mouth.

“Mel, we want you to be happy. You happy with splitting from Joe?” Johnny asks his daughter.

“I can’t put into words how happy I am, pops.” She shrugs with a small smile.

“See, Cat? That’s all I need to know.” He nods to his wife, getting up to get the plates for the table.

“At your wedding I knew he was no good.” Maria shakes her head. “The negativity sheds off of him like his hair does.”

Melissa chuckles staying put as her parents move about the kitchen setting the table. As they do, Maria comes over kissing the top of her head.

“Mia Cara, when we’re done you make a plate and take it to your new friend. Give her a sneak peek of family dinners.”

The redhead looks at the matriarch of the family with a warm smile knowing her Nana would understand everything that Joe told the family.

As Melissa has dinner with her family you move around your apartment cleaning up and ordering groceries as you usually do on your days off. Seeing Melissa that afternoon was nice and you knew as soon as you saw her the anger you felt would lessen. You were upset but not so much with her. Now you were upset with her husband and how he treats her.

If her being free of him and the cage she felt trapped in meant you had to feel bad for those few hours from finding out to the moment you met up with her for lunch then so be it. You were tempted to text her an invite to come over for the night to decompress and talk more. As you leave your apartment and hop down the stairs to the alleyway out back to get rid of your garbage you see a car you do not recognize parked almost blocking the alley, and a man getting out of the car.

A man you recognize as Joe.

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #Melissa Schemmenti #Melissa Schemmenti x reader #lgbtq+ fiction

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23victoria · 6 hours

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“mi hermosa niña” ❀

carlos sainz jr x fem!reader

summary: request by @mimisainznorris!! Do you write Sainz x fem!reader fics? If you do,can ⭐please⭐ make a fic where Carlos and reader are in a happy relationship but she's lil bit insecure about her looks and Carlitos tries to help her with that. I think that would be cute🤧

warnings: insecure reader, that’s it really not too specific and some fluff

authors note: thank you for the request baby 🤧!! i hope you enjoy it!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

You’ve been with Carlos for a year and a half now, and everyone says you're one of the cutest couples on the paddock. Your relationship is the kind that other people look at and feel envious of. You’re loved by everyone, always getting compliments on how beautiful you are. But behind closed doors, things aren't always as perfect as they seem. You've always had insecurities about your body, and today, it's one of those days when those insecurities are overwhelming you.

Carlos decided to take you out for dinner tonight. It was supposed to be a fun evening, a chance for the two of you to relax and enjoy each other's company away from the noise and pressure of the paddock. But as you stand in front of the mirror in your shared apartment, all you can see are the flaws. You trace your fingers over the parts of your body that you wish you could change, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you.

Carlos walks into the room, looking handsome as always in his neatly pressed shirt and jeans. His smile fades as he sees the expression on your face. “Cariño, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

You can’t hold it in anymore. Tears start to fall as you turn to him, your voice breaking. “I just... I don’t feel pretty. I look at myself and I see everything that’s wrong. I don’t understand how someone as handsome as you could be with someone as ugly as me.”

Carlos’ eyes soften, and he steps closer, gently taking your hands in his. “Oh, mi amor,” he murmurs, his heart breaking at seeing you like this. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Every single part of you.”

You shake your head, pulling away to look back at the mirror. “You have to say that because you love me,” you whisper. “But I see the way people look at you. You could have anyone you wanted. Why would you choose me?”

Carlos turns you to face him, cupping your face in his hands. “I choose you because I love you. Not just for how you look, but for who you are. Your kindness, your strength, your laughter – they make you more beautiful than anyone else.”

“But my body...” you start, but Carlos stops you with a gentle kiss.

“Your body is perfect because it’s yours,” he says softly. “Every mark, every curve, every so-called flaw tells a story about your life. They’re beauty marks, reminders of who you are and what you’ve been through.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “When I look at you, I see the woman who stands by my side, who supports me and loves me unconditionally. I see the woman who makes me laugh, who makes every day better just by being in it. You are so much more than what you see in the mirror.”

You feel the warmth of his words start to melt the icy grip of insecurity. You cling to him, letting the tears flow freely now. Carlos holds you tighter, whispering soothing words in your ear. “You are beautiful, inside and out. And I will spend every day reminding you of that, no matter how long it takes for you to believe it.”

After a while, your sobs subside, and you pull back slightly to look at him. “Do you really mean that?” you ask, needing to hear it one more time.

Carlos smiles, brushing a tear from your cheek. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” he says. “You’re my everything, Y/N. And I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

He kisses you again, and this time, you let yourself take him in. You can feel the love and sincerity in his touch, and it starts to drown out the negative thoughts in your mind. You’re happy to have someone like him by your side, helping you see the beauty that he sees.

⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱

Carlos keeps you close as you both head out for dinner. The restaurant is cozy and intimate, a perfect setting for the heartwarming evening ahead. You can’t help but feel lighter as you sit across from Carlos, his reassuring presence calming your nerves.

The conversation flows easily as you talk about everything and nothing. Carlos makes you laugh with stories from the paddock, and you can’t help but marvel at how effortlessly charming he is. He’s always been able to make you feel special, even on your darkest days.

As the evening progresses, Carlos reaches across the table to take your hand. “I want you to promise me something,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. “Whenever you start feeling like this again, come to me. Talk to me. Let me remind you of how incredible you are.”

You nod, squeezing his hand. “I promise,” you say softly. “And thank you, Carlos. For everything.”

Carlos smiles, a look of relief and happiness washing over his face. “That’s all I need to hear, cariño,” he says. “I’m here for you, always.”

⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱

The night ends with a walk along the beach, the city lights reflecting off the water. Carlos keeps you close, his arm around your shoulders as you stroll in comfortable silence. You feel a sense of peace that you haven’t felt in a long time, and it’s all because of him.

When you finally get home, you feel lighter, more at ease. Carlos’s words echo in your mind, and for the first time in a long time, you start to believe them. He loves you, truly and deeply, for who you are. And maybe, just maybe, you can start to see yourself through his eyes.

As you lie in bed that night, wrapped in Carlos’s arms, you feel a warmth spread through your chest. Carlos whispers one last affirmation as you drift off to sleep, “You are my everything, Y/N. Never forget that.” And with those words, you close your eyes, a small smile on your lips, feeling more loved and cherished than ever before.

Bonus:

carlossainzjr

liked by bellahadid, landonorris, lewishamilton, scuderiaferrari, charlesleclerc, and 3,256,357 others

mi hermosa niña 😍😘💋

y/n_ig awww baby!!! i love you 🥹❤️

↳ carlossainzjr @.y/n_ig i love you my beautiful girl ❤️

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welcomingdisaster · 2 days

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golden birch, silver oak

russingon, M, 1k. for day one of @russingon-week .

“I must speak with thee,” Russandol says. They are stretched out side by side in the hypaethral in front of the great hills and caverns of Manwë’s temple. Findekáno’s feet ache, and so does his lower back; three days ago they have started on a horse-race around the isle, which turned into a barefoot track across the shallow tide pools of the starlit beach, then a climb across the rocky cliffs, and in all of it, eating as they did the fruit of whatever tree happened to be in their way, grilling fish and clams over a fire, they have neglected any sleep at all.

It calls to him now, wrapping heavy about with the certainty of the coming tide. But next to him Russandol watches him with cheerful grey eyes, though something of his mind is awfully veiled and sad.

“Soon,” Findekáno promises, not meaning it in the slightest, “we shall talk, if thou wishest. But remember, cousin, what I have pulled from the earth.”

He holds out his hand. In it are mushrooms, white-stemmed, brown caps reaching for the silver light of the distant trees. Russandol laughs, and takes some from him. Findekáno likes to watch him eat mushrooms, and feels a little mean for it; despite his best efforts, Russandol is awfully choosey about the textures of his food. He breaks some off and pushes it to the very back of his mouth, squishing it with his molars and swallowing quickly as not to taste it, his nose wrinkled and eyes squeezed shut. Washes it down generously with watered wine, and laughs when Findekáno rolls atop him and kisses the look of his disgust off his face.

“How wouldst thou live in the East,” Findekáno asks him, “in the olden days, when we had no butter nor bread nor tamed beast, and fed ourselves on any manner of scavenged root and twig?”

He pops his own dose in his mouth, chewing with pleasure.

Russandol turns from him, groaning. “I suppose I would be a whole lot shorter,” he says, “with so little to sustain me that I should be willing to eat. Perhaps that is where all the designs have gone amiss in my coming here, for often I think I ought to have matched better the rest of my kin.”

Findekáno ignores the heresy in it. There are other things, like the warmth of Russandol’s body and the tempting curve of his ear, the strong white column of his neck. They kiss lazily, for after the days’ exertion it is hard to muster any urgency; they had spent the first night together, whispering and shushing each other, in Findekáno’s childhood room in Tirion, then had tangled together in the shallow tide, engaging in the pointless exercise of licking salt from each other’s skin, then had each other again in the mountains, where purple clover had looked very pretty in Russandol’s long braid.

Findekáno is determined to have him again, because he can, because there is no one here to see them. He works open Russandol’s robes, bites at the open expanse of his chest, his stomach, trails kisses along his sharp, jutting hip-bones. There Russandol cries out, and says, “Oh, there thou art. There it is.”

“Mm?” Findekáno asks. “Dost thou feel it, now?”

“Uh-huh,” Russandol says, “oh, I see stars. Red and blue.”

“’Tis not the color stars ought to be,” Findekáno says, “look again, love,” and Russandol laughs, though truly it is not funny, and Findekáno takes him into his mouth, half-hard, and hollows out his cheeks, and then he begins to feel it too, twinkling around him in the air like bells.

For some time he is there, working Russandol up to his pleasure, feeling the pleasant things of the world wash over him in waves. Then somehow time passes, and his head is on Russandol’s thigh, and he traces the little patterns of freckles on his knee and bright firelight bursts chase each other in the woods around them and the music of the sky is plainer and louder than he can remember it being and that is all very well. “Wouldst thou still love me if I were a birch and thou wert an oak?” he asks, and in response Russandol hums a little tune, ta-ta-ta.

“Are the birches at war with the oaks?” he asks.

And Findekáno says, “They are kin, I think,” and knows it does not answer the question.

Later still he’s on his back on the marble and Russandol is atop him and inside him, kissing his temples, biting the junction of his neck and his earlobes, hands in his hair, and Findekáno catches his right wrist and takes his fingers between his lips, running his tongue over his thumb-pad, mouthing at the joints of his long fingers. For a moment he tastes blood, he thinks, and it is cold within him—but then he swallows, and there is nothing but dirt and seed on his tongue, and Russandol senses his unease and tucks him closer, into his arms, whispers, “only the mushrooms, heed them not,” as though heeding them is not the whole point.

Then they lie in in the grass, having lost somewhere the the great marble columns, and Russandol says, “truly we must speak,” so Findekáno looks up at him, and asks of it, though just them it all seems very far away, and Russandol sighs.

“My father asks me to watch thee,” he says, “to report in secret thy deeds to him, and learn what I may of thy father’s mind.” It must be that Findekáno is quiet for too long, because Russandol nudges him, and asks. “What dost thou think of?”

“Flying,” Findekáno says quietly, “I think of flying.”

Russandol groans. “Come back to me,” he says, “this is important.”

But all around him there are great feathered wings, brown and mighty, and their fathers are small as dolls in the green and blue world below them. “Come back to me,” Russandol says again, and turns and whispers against his skin, I did not go, I never left. It is not I, it is not I who goes.

#my fic #maedhros #fingon #russingon

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ava451 · 1 day

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Hiii! What do you think about Sloan with a s/o that works as a veterinarian and has an easier time interacting with animals rather than people due to their social anxiety?

On the outside they seem so unapproachable and stoic due to that being their resting face but often times they're just nervous...they always give the softest looks to their patients though!

I'll tell you EXACTLY what I think about that.

I think that Sloan is very good with people who have social anxiety because they chatter non-stop. There is never awkward silence with them, they talk for the both of you if you really can't get a word out. And they smile all the time and laugh, which is so contagious that you can't help but chuckle a bit too.

That being said, they probably think you need to lighten up because of your resting ":/"-face! It's their life's mission now. Even if you aren't even grumpy or anything, they like to see you smile, so get ready for really stupid jokes and getting memes shoved in your face constantly.

Maybe first... some words on how you two have met. I can't really see Sloan having a pet since they're out travelling so much. Who would take care of it? Even if they had somebody, the pet wouldn't even know them because they're working abroad so often. Which is lowkey sad, because Sloan is just the type to get a huge Husky or rescue 5 feral stray cats from the street.

What I can see them doing though is carrying in injured animals they found, be that a bunch of kittens they found abandoned in a trash can, or an injured hawk with a limp wing, or a sick-looking dog, or a whole ass deer with a hurt leg they found on the highway - Sloan definitely has a soft spot for animals of all kinds and their heart would break if they just walked past without taking action. Plus they probably drive some rusty pick-up truck for all their equipment so there's loads 'n loads of space.

They live in Canada, I am so sorry for having to bring moose into this but if they found an injured one on the highway you bet they would try to drag it into their car and get some help.

So it's really no surprise that they would make your acquaintance considering your job, and more importantly, that you two would keep crossing paths.

Maybe you would even work as a veterinarian at these wildlife emergency hotlines that are on duty at night? I think I'll go with this one. Either way, Sloan always explains exactly where they found the patient, and what sounds it made (imitating them too...) and what they did to take care of it until they got here - all throughout you look at them very seriously. I mean, it's nice that you don't have to pull every piece of information out of their nose - talking to strangers is a nightmare after all - but they flail their arms and motion wildly as they talk, meanwhile you stand there stiff as a branch listening- you don't even know what to say, you just nod and turn to your patient, proceeding to examine it gently and carefully and whispering some soothing words to calm it.

You think Sloan leaves? Sloan stays right in that room, even shuffles closer. Starts complimenting how good you are with animals!! It's already so relaxed!! You must be an animal whisperer!! Woowww, where did you learn that? Do you have pets? You must have! Chatter chatter chatter-

Until you need to awkwardly ask them to maybe wait outside, cause - you're so sorry, you don't mean it in a rude way - but the animal is already stressed, and every voice talking is a reason for more stress - not that they're stressful per se, but, you know -

"Oh yeah!! Sure!! I'll wait outside!" (It's 1am at the wildlife refuge? Don't they wanna go home?? No?? No!)

You patch up your patient, which takes quite a while, and when you flex your fingers, heading outside to get some fresh air, maybe smoke a cigarette, get a hot drink, you immediately get jumpscared by Sloan waiting RIGHT OUTSIDE AS THEY SAID THEY WOULD- "Heyyy, how's the patient?"

You can only stare. Then you awkwardly say : "You're still here?" "Oh yeah, of course. Wanted to hear how the little one's doing." "It's doing well." "Good!! Good! You taking a break? Wanna granola bar? I have one - oh this one's expired. ... you still want it?"

You probably won't get left alone for the rest of the night, and better get used to it too, because when they bring in an animal they're sure to stick around. Maybe they hope to get you to speak to THEM in that soft voice you use for your patients, or get one of these soft looks of yours - I'm not saying they daydream about being a poor hurt wolf in your care, being told everything's going to be fine, but that's exactly what I'm saying.

Getting into a relationship with you turns out to be a very long, arduous process, because you can't make or keep eye contact, and every time Sloan invites you to a party (Not going to the club, more like a LAN party with their pals from the Wayfinder Society. There's pizza and beer and Sloan monologuing about how Rome was better off as empire than republic and exactly why Julius Caesar had some mad rizz) you shake your head, apologizing a lot, saying you don't like that sort of stuff. At the same time, Sloan has scruples asking you to go on a hike, just the two of you, because they fear you will think they're going to murder you or abduct you.

Not to mention that they're sometimes gone on a mission for several weeks. And when they come back, your face is all stoic, only your voice wavering a little as you ask them about the trip they've been on. At one point they falter, joking about how they're gonna leave you to your work then... Immediately your head snaps up. "Why?"

"Umm... aren't you busy?"

"Somewhat. But you never leave before sunrise."

Is there some sort of panic in your eyes that you may have done something wrong that they're leaving so early?? Is that a blush on your cheeks?

That's all the encouragement they needed.

"Yeah, nevermind. I'll stay. Since you're gonna miss me so much, hehe."

You don't deny that. You don't deny that!

At one point you confide, while talking about how you got this job, and why you work these night shifts specifically, that your social anxiety would just never let you work 'normal hours' and that animals are much more pleasant than people, aren't they?

"They sure are. Sucks that some bozo keeps tagging after you at work, huh?"

You shrug. "I don't mind you." "Hahah." "No really, I don't." "Sometimes you look a little..." //they pull a face. You chuckle. "That's just my face. Trust me, when I get upset I look different."

It takes maybe half a year of Sloan keeping you company at work before you agree to come over and hang out with them. They're overjoyed!! Finally managed to ask that cute vet out!!

The moment of truth! You arrive at their place ("There's nobody else here, right??" "Nah, just us." "Ok, good." "Sorry. Are you good?" "Yeah. I'd just rather be alone with you. .... wait-" "Awww, SHUCKS!") and they tell you they actually do have a pet... and it's been feeling a little down lately, maybe lack of attention, could you check it out?

"Oh god, Sloan, with all the time you spend abroad- what kind of animal is it??"

"... This is Rosetta."

"........"

"My owner likes you! Hey, Rosetta, keep it shut, what the hell."

God what an idiot. You've already fallen in love.

When you handle Rosetta all cautiously, using your soft voice on it ("Oh, you're just such a pretty rock, are you not? Such a pretty little rock!") Sloan gets a little jealous. "God I wish that were me." "Huh?" "Nothing!"

(Part 2 coming in hot. Stay tuned.)

#venture overwatch #overwatch venture #overwatch 2 #overwatch 2 venture #sloan cameron #sloane cameron #venture x reader #sloan cameron x reader #thanks for requesting this!#vet s/o #social anxiety s/o

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triggerlil · 1 day

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i bet God heard you coming

It humbles Gale all over again how the world keeps going. When he'd returned home from the war and the horses at the Spencers' stables still nuzzled into his palm, when Marge died and the sun still set pink over the cottonwoods across the fields. Now John was gone, and the birds still trilled excitedly in the early morning mist.

1.9k, also on AO3

It's one of the first warm nights of Spring when Gale looks at John for the last time. Sure, he has photos: the one John gave him that's long since creased from the amount of times Gale's held it, the hoarded newspaper clippings with smudged smirks and group shots around the planes where faces blurred. But this was his last moment seeing him in person, and despite the sadness that claws at his chest and grips his heart, he wants to remember everything. The dark sweep of curls across John's forehead, the crooked part of his nose from an unclean break, the small scars and marks that pepper his skin (which only ever made him more handsome), long still eyelashes the ghosts of which seemed to flutter now against Gale’s cheek. He absentmindedly brushes the sensation away, the raw skin under his eyes stinging, and his hand comes away wet with tears. He would’ve figured he had none left.

He needed to make this quiet moment count because of all the things he’d never committed to memory. The blue of John’s eyes was already fading, would the tenor of his laugh be next? Would it only be the horror that stayed? The way John looked with blood splattered across his face, the sound of his shouts when he’d woken panting, the smell of gunpowder and death? If nightmares were the only parts of John he could salvage, that was better than nothing.

He settles a hand over where John’s are folded across his stomach, wedding ring new enough that parts still shine. He knows he’s cold, but Gale sucks in a breath when he touches John’s cheek. It's as cold as when they marched.

“How’d we get here, huh?” He whispers, shaky. He’s going to have to move on soon, let others take their time. No one would interrupt him, but he can’t handle it much longer anyhow. The silence closes in and the overwhelming perfume of flowers starts to make him feel sick. He wants to sit John up and hug him so tightly he breaks his ribs, shake him until his bones fall out so Gale can finally accept the truth. “You weren't supposed to die on me, John.”

He feels panic start to rise in his throat, bile and tar, he takes one long last look: there are the freckles he’d counted, the strong jaw he’d held, lips he’d ran the pad of his thumb over, broad shoulders and arms that’d wrapped around him, a chest he’d once seen rise and fall. He wrenches himself away before he can choose to stay and walks quickly back through the wake and out to the lawn. He should say something to Josephine, but he doesn’t know how. He hadn’t wanted to be around anyone when Marge died—except John. It’s late, the funeral is tomorrow afternoon, he’ll say something then. Gale sits on the pavement and waits for Esther to say goodbye for the both of them. Not for the first time he wishes he smoked. He settles for taking a toothpick and fiddling it between his teeth. Esther touches his shoulder gently as the crickets start singing, and they drive back to their hotel without talking.

The air is cool the next morning when Gale goes for a jog. The shock has worn off somewhat; he no longer has an excuse to stay indoors and wallow. Regardless it wouldn’t be a good look, grown men don’t grieve like widows over their best friends. Even if said friend should’ve had plenty of time left. It humbles Gale all over again how the world keeps going. When he'd returned home from the war and the horses at the Spencers' stables still nuzzled into his palm, when Marge died and the sun still set pink over the cottonwoods across the fields. Now John is gone, and the birds still trill excitedly in the early morning mist. His feet still strike the ground as his breath turns ragged and he has to bend over at the side of the road to dry heave and swallow hungry gulps of air. He shuffles back to the hotel and into the shower, listens to Esther get up and start dressing, singing under her breath. His wet hair dripping onto the back of her neck, he helps with the clasp on the pearl necklace he’d given her before they left. He wants to feel some part of Marge beside him today. Esther had been hesitant to accept at first, but Gale knew Marge would’ve liked to see it worn again. She would’ve wanted him to be happy. Tough luck, he thinks. She and John had made that pretty difficult.

A few years older than Gale, Esther had lost someone herself. Her first husband had been shot off one of the beaches in Normandy and swallowed by the ocean. It’s unfortunately part of why they work so well together—they both know this isn’t their one great love, but it’s comforting and safe. They’ve talked a lot about the past, but Esther doesn’t know about John. No one knows about John. No one will ever know about he and John. Esther fastens the buttons on his service dress when his hands start shaking too much and goes on tiptoe to place a kiss under his eye. He wants to tell her she looks beautiful in black, but can’t get the words out, so he just takes her hand and doesn’t let go, even as they drive.

“He was a good man,” Gale ends up saying. “I’ll always remember him.” It’s lame in comparison to the vastness of both their grief, but Josephine still clasps his hands, hugs Esther, and thanks them for coming all this way.

Then they’re moving on, and Gale is speaking consoling words he can’t hear to John’s two daughters, who have so much of his playfulness in their features that he can barely stand it. Esther is calmly leading him to their seats, saying something, and he nods despite not understanding anything. The first speech is lost to the rushing of blood in his ears. He’s supposed to get up and say something, he has his speech tucked into his breast pocket, but his vision has tunneled down to nothing but the casket and the knowledge that John is in it.

Yesterday was the last day he’d ever see John again. Esther squeezes his hand and he realizes it’s his turn. He somehow stands in front of the familiar faces of grief and talks about how John helped him get through the war, as if that’s even half of it. He can’t say he wishes he’d been there when John was five and scraped both knees falling off his bike, just so he could shush and console him, or how he would’ve held ice to every black eye John got fighting after school. He can't say he remembers watching John smoke outside the barracks and the swoop in his stomach when everything clicked. He can’t explain that John is someone he’s always known, that when he died he took a part of Gale with him. His voice cracks only once, and then he’s in his seat and doesn't remember walking back over. Esther takes his hand again, and she will never know just how deep his grief goes. He will never tell her about nights in the Stalag when it was so cold everyone was sharing bunks, but those were also the only nights he actually slept, drifting off to the comforting length of John's body pressed against his. Gale will take to his own grave how John came running after Marge died, sleeping together again—cramped on the couch because Gale couldn’t stand to be in the master bedroom—or the one brief moment they’d had alone before John’s wedding, Gale straightening John’s collar and running his fingers through the scruff of hair at the nape of his neck. They will never have any of that again, and Gale somehow has to find a way to live with it. He has to survive for the both of them, now.

The air feels muggy with promised rain as guests trickle out of the funeral home. The Egan grandchildren run around on the grass, unaware of what they’ve lost, and their innocent screams carve a hole out of his stomach. He stops to talk to some of the other men from the 100th who were able to come, but he mostly nods and avoids their pitying stares. They invite him out for drinks tonight, in John’s honor. Hotel checkout is at 0900, but by now he’s used to late nights and early mornings. Esther breaks away from the group of wives that have found themselves huddled around Josephine, and they drive somewhere for a coffee.

“Are you going out tonight, for John?” She asks him.

He shrugs, wishing his hands would burn to the sides of this chipped diner mug he's holding.

“It’s been so long since any of the girls have seen each other, Josephine wants us over for wine later. You’d figure she’d be too exhausted, but I think she likes the distraction.”

“Her and John always had that in common.”

Esther stifles a laugh and pretends to cough.

“I said I’d only go if I wasn’t leaving you alone.”

Gale weighs his options. Stay in with Esther and feel guilty and sorry for himself, lie just to be alone, or go out with the men who are the closest to understanding what he and John had.

“I’ll probably go out, just for a bit.”

She nods, sipping her coffee. One milk and one sugar as opposed to Gale’s black; Marge liked just milk, and John was always two milk and enough sugar to rot your teeth. The steam tickles his face and the coffee tastes like every funeral he’s attended—bitter yet familiar. They decide to spend what’s left of the day at the cinema, and he runs his thumb along Esther’s wrist as they sit in the dark. He gets absorbed enough in the story he forgets where he is, the repetitive touch lulling him into the past. He’s at the local theatre in Wyoming watching an unbearably sappy romance with Marge, he’s in the barracks next to John smiling slyly around a toothpick while they bump knees and the men shout profanity at the projection.

He doesn’t drink that night, the first and last time will always be that swig from John’s flask on VE-Day, but when he’s walking home down unfamiliar streets he fishes out a cigarette he got from a stranger at the bar. He exhales slow, lets the cloud of smoke envelope him in the familiar scent he’d come to associate with John. The rush to his head is a bit like flying a plane, the calm reminiscent of the sky stretching out before him, and he understands how people get addicted. He walks past a church and squints in the dark. He’s never been very religious—doesn’t count the desperate prayers to any God listening while enemy territory rushed towards him—wasn’t raised on it and never bothered. He takes a shuddering inhale and watches the embers burning down towards his fingers. He gazes at the cross atop the roof, silhouetted against the starry sky, and asks God for one last favour: if there is a Heaven, can Bucky be there waiting for him? He wants to see him at the pearly gaits, smirk playing on his boyish face, as he asks Gale what took him so long.

#this hurt me yall #but it had to be done #mota #clegan #buckbucky #john egan #john bucky egan #gale cleven #gale buck cleven #clegan fic #john egan x gale cleven #tw: funerals #tw: grief #triggerlilfic

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fallen-mario-bros-au · 1 day

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Aight just a warning I'm pretty new to Tumblr and I'm DEFINITELY new to making AUs so I'm pretty nervous to post anything here but I figured I'd just rip the band-aid off.

FIRST POST HYPE!! :D

Anyways I love Mario and I love Undertale and I NEEDED TO COMBINE THEM LEGALLY so I decided to make an au about it! Dunno if I'm actually going to do anything serious with this, I mostly just want to imagine cute shenanigans with my favorite characters and whatnot, but who knows? Maybe I'll actually try to give this a proper plot

So here's the basic info:

- Mario and Luigi, in the midst of trying to chase down Bowser, who has just kidnapped the princess again, somehow wind up far away from the Mushroom Kingdom and on Mt. Ebott. Where, of course, they fall into the underground.

- All the monsters are pretty much their canon counterparts (at least, my best interpretation of them 💀)

- Mario ends up discovering he has the power to reset/load/save/etc, but Luigi does not. This is because Mario has the most determination to get out of here and save the princess

- Toriel isn't quite as overprotective of them as she would be if they were a literal child like Frisk, but she is still very motherly towards them because it's just kinda who she is. She would probably be concerned about them potentially attacking the monsters so she might make them promise not to hurt anyone. I still don't think she would want them to leave because Asgore would take their souls

- Honestly mostly this is just an excuse for the Mario Bros and the Skelebros to hang out XD

- the thing that is really interesting is that Mario and Luigi are not 1, but 2 humans, which means only one of their souls would be needed to break the barrier. This ends up becoming a real issue but I could see it being resolved in a few ways.

1. one of the bros self sacrifices so the underground goes free (much to the dismay of the other, and also my heart would break haha)

2. They decide to just stay in the underground instead of going home (but they would be pretty sad about it because oh no their kingdom is still in danger

3. ??? IDK tbh

- Since Mario can load saves, he's just constantly in this angsty cycle of trying to keep his bro from getting killed off ;;

- Not sure if Mario could keep the resets secret for long since Flowey would taunt them about it, but he definitely would be pretty closed off about it, especially to Luigi. He does NOT want Luigi to know about the horrible things he's seen

-ofc cut to Luigi being confused as heck as to why Mario seems to already know what's going to happen.

- they have cute sweaters because I said so

- not sure how omega fight would work, but either way Mario would have to fight to save both of them (probably all by himself :c)

- I want them to eventually do true pacifist but IDK how it would work so I'm not gonna think about it too hard rn

- Mario and Undyne having a friendly rivalry about who's the most heroic

- sans trying to convince them they could just stay in the underground and they're like "no we have to save the tiny mushroom people" and he's like "ur just like my bro fr"

- monster speculation about the purpose of mustaches

- It would be kinda funny if they had the firebrand and thunderhand since... Like... Humans aren't supposed to be able to do magic

- "are you sure you're humans? You're so small"

- *confused Italian noises*

Also here's some assorted doodles (I know the quality sucks 😭)

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alittlebitofloveliness · 2 days

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“I feel like I know Soda from the way you talk about him” -Cherry Valance

Me: I should work on one of the half dozen fic prompts sitting in my asks

My Brain: Ok but what if INSTEAD of that you fixated on a throwaway line of dialogue and write a Sodapop character study through the eyes of Cherry Valance

Me: Ok bet

**************************

“I feel like I know Soda from the way you talk about him” -Cherry Valance, The Outsiders

The bell over the door jingles merrily as she steps through the door, though it’s the only thing that could be considered merry in the DX gas station today. Inside the air is suffocating. A dark haired greaser covered in oil gives her a cold once over, jaw tightening, but doesn’t say anything, just goes back to sweeping as she pretends to browse the candy bars.

She shouldn’t be here. She knows she shouldn’t, and it’s not like she isn’t busy enough what with talking to Randy and trying to help Mrs. Sheldon plan the funeral.

The funeral. Bob’s funeral. Sweet, funny, stupid, reckless Bob. Her boyfriend. Her boyfriend who’d been stabbed, who’d bled out in a park on the east side. Her boyfriend who’d scared a sweet kid into doing it. Her boyfriend who’d beat said kid within an inch of his life three months ago, around the same time he’d been coming by after school to help her take care of her mom.

God this is so fucked up. She owes Bob’s memory more loyalty than this. She owes those kids something too.

She turns to go, pausing when she catches sight of the boy behind the counter. She’d seen him around school for a while, and he’d pumped her gas a few times, but until Friday night she hadn’t really known much about him. His hair is more blond than red, eyes brown instead of green, and his face has a few sharper angles, but other than that he looks a whole lot like his little brother. Even if Ponyboy hadn’t described him perfectly, after meeting him she could have guessed they were related.

She swallows heavily, cowardly once again, and feigns interest in the chips this time. The dark haired guy keeps alternating between glaring at her and casting worried glances at where Sodapop Curtis sits slumped behind the counter. She kind of gets why. Handsome as Sodapop is, he looks terrible- eyes red rimmed and gaze vacant as he stares down at the counter with such a forlorn expression Cherry’s heart breaks just looking at it. He looks like a scene is straight out of a sad movie, the kind where the hero is doomed from the start, no matter what they say or do. The kind where they lose everything over and over and end up alone. The kind Cherry used to like before she learned that real tragedy wasn’t as beautiful as it looked on TV. The kind Bob never watched with her anyway, always talking her into watching a comedy or an action film instead.

It’s been three days. Three days since Bob died, which means Sodapop Curtis’ little brother has been missing just as long. She remembers the pure adoration in Ponyboy’s voice when he talked about him, remembers the way he didn’t have a single bad word to say, how she could almost feel how much Soda loved him just from the way he talked, and her stomach clenches. If Sodapop Curtis loves Ponyboy half as much as Ponyboy clearly loves him, this must be killing him.

Bob’s life is gone, snuffed out, ruined, but maybe he’d ruined a lot of lives too. The proof is right in front of her.

A well of shame that is rapidly becoming familiar swells in her chest. It was wrong of her to come here, wrong of her to want to talk to him. Even if he doesn’t know who she is, it is wrong for her to bear witness to his pain when it was her boyfriend and her friends who started this whole mess. Bob had died for it, yes, but how many others are going to have to suffer for his mistakes? How many innocents are going to be collateral damage?

Even Johnny Cade. Even the boy who’d killed him, had only done it because he had to. Even he didn’t deserve to suffer.

She should leave. She’s been standing here too long already, and the dark haired guy is becoming impatient, his glare more pronounced. Sodapop Curtis isn’t in the right state to notice her staring, but it’s clear his buddy has and doesn’t seem to appreciate it.

Of course. This whole mess started with a soc girl like her talking to a greaser, and after Bob’s death tensions are running high. No wonder this boy is looking at her like a threat. She’s already messed with the Curtis’ brothers lives enough. Of course, this guy doesn’t know that, but the pure hatred in his dark gaze makes her feel as though he does.

She picks up a stick of bubblegum.

Glancing up through her lashes she watches as Sodapop raises a hand to chew absently on his left thumbnail.

Her mind flashes back to the movie house, an auburn haired kid sitting beside her, deep into the movie, biting his left thumbnail, seemingly unaware he was doing it.

It’s this memory, the memory of Ponyboy biting his thumb mirrored exactly in his older brother that finally makes her decision for her.

She grabs a few candy bars at random and a bag of chips for good measure, and makes her way over to the cash.

Sodapop Curtis doesn’t notice her presence until she’s directly in front of him, and even then only once she’s dropped her items on the counter. Gold brown eyes blink up at her suddenly, and she tries not to gasp.

The force of his full attention is not what shocks her- although a face like that is hard to not be stunned by. No, instead it's the absolute tortured look in his eyes that forces her to pause.

Desperation is something you hear about but don’t understand until you really see it in its wild, crazed, bruising true form, Cherry is realizing now. She’s never seen someone so physically present who so obviously isn’t here.

That is, until his gaze sharpens, recognition breaking through the haze of despair.

“You’re that socs girlfriend,” he says. It’s not a question. It’s also not an accusation, but it’s something close, “the one who died. I saw you. In the paper.”

“Yes.” She agrees softly. The dark haired guy has stopped pretending to sweep and is watching his friend with a wary gaze, like he could snap at any moment. He certainly looks like he could, hands nearly crushing the candy bars as he starts to ring her up.

“You shouldn’t be here,” suddenly he seems dangerous, a far cry from the tortured boy from a minute ago, miles from the happy go lucky big brother Ponyboy had described at the drive in. She’d told Ponyboy she felt like she knew Soda from the way he described him, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. She doesn’t know the boy in front of her, whose jaw is clenched so tight his teeth creak, and whose eyes show such a deep well of hate she can feel herself drowning in it, “none of your kind should be, but especially not you. Your boyfriend is the reason my kid brother is missing.”

She can’t help but flinch.

He is none of the things Ponyboy told her about him, is not happy go lucky or grinning, doesn’t look like a guy who is gentle with horses, and teases people lovingly, or someone who helped hold his family together and looks out for his buddies. He isn’t who he is supposed to be, and he’s right- it’s Bob’s fault. It’s Bob’s fault Ponyboy is missing, Bob’s fault half of Soda’s already fractured family has been ripped away from him, Bob’s fault he doesn’t know where his fourteen year old brother is trying to fend for himself.

And yet… Bob’s sins are not her own. She won’t pretend she had no role in this whole mess, but Bob’s choices are not her own. She has her own issues to atone for, but it is not her job to answer for Bob’s.

She squares her shoulders.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” Sodapop stiffens immediately, but she ploughs on, “truly I am, and if the police ask me I will tell them it was self defense because I know,” her voice catches, but she forces back the tears. She loves Bob, she does, but he could be cruel and she owes it to those kids to tell the truth, “I know Bob started it, but I didn’t do this and I won’t be treated like I did.”

His dark eyes flash, and for a or a second she thinks he might actually hit her- then his shoulders slump, all the fight draining out of him to be replaced once again with anguish.

“I-” he can’t seem to bring himself to apologize. Cherry can’t really blame him, “ok.”

He finishes ringing up her items, and she pays, taking the bag of candy she doesn’t want or need and trying to think of a reason to stall. She considers asking about Ponyboy, considers telling Soda about meeting him at the drive in, wonders if he did know anything if he’d actually tell her and concludes that he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. The girlfriend of the guy his brother skipped town after seeing murdered is probably the last person he’d trust with any news.

Even still. She can’t bring herself to leave without saying anything.

“I really hope you find your brother,” she settles on, hoping he can read her sincerity, “Ponyboy is a really special kid.”

The bell rings again as the door closes behind her, but the melancholy mood follows her to her car.

She was wrong on Friday. She doesn’t know anything about Ponyboy’s brother, no matter how well he described him.

Then again, she thinks as she drives away, catching sight of the golden haired boy once again staring vacantly at the counter through the window, maybe the boy she just met wasn’t Ponyboy’s brother Sodapop. Maybe he’s the Sodapop who isn’t.

She thinks of the boy made of sunshine Ponyboy described compared to the tortured prince of darkness she just met, and shudders.

What a terrible thought.

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #cherry valance #bob sheldon #steve randle #the outsiders fanfiction

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peachesofteal · 2 days

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I’m really, really loving your Simon & Mama series. It’s so beautifully written and it really makes me feel things.

One of those things is a little bit of sadness because you see all the time now either on reddit, tiktok or from personal family & friends on how badly their child’s father has treated them either during pregnancy or after or hell even both. And reading Simon & Mama just makes me wish those mothers had the same support that Mama gets from Simon.

I know wishful thinking and probably very silly to think about but I just wanted to tell you that the way you write stories makes me feel all different types of emotions and it makes me think of things I would never normally think about.

I’m Autistic and my empathy level isn’t really high at all for humans, I find I have to force it most of the time and I’m quite selfish really but reading your stories makes me stop and think about other people and I feel bad and sad for them so in a way I’d like to thank you for that.

I’m struggling to put into words or text on how to express that even though certain series of yours may finish or you post a chapter. It’s never just a read for me and then forgot until the next one, the chapter or series sits in my brain for a long time and I’ll keep thinking about it for months and sometimes there will be breaks in between but then a sentence or a feeling will pop in and I’ll remember your stories and I’m really grateful that I get to experience your writing.

Thank you

Oh and sorry if this is rude or makes you uncomfortable, just ignore it thanks

♥️♥️♥️

This isn’t rude or uncomfortable, I’m so glad you sent me this message, it was lovely of you to take the time to send me it to me, I really appreciate it. TBH made me a little emotional. It’s really special that my writing can make you feel this way, and I’m honored. I’m incredibly touched that my writing makes you feel, it’s my ultimate goal as a writer and it’s… just so lovely to hear it from you, thank you 🩵

#crying in the club #peaches asks

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scopophobia-polaris · 6 months

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Honestly could we throw out the idea that totk's story issue is that it isn't consistent with the lore of the older games but instead drops intresting world building from botw because it might have gotten actually dark

#seriously eveeyone keeps up bring up the triforce not being the same like the older games instead of HEY why DOES the royal family just.....#have it #like all of it #and was the sheikah tech from the last game that functions the same was as light arrows/the biden blast was uh #how do i put this #how did they weaponize lightmagic in robots and does this all tie in with the “banishment” thing #or idk dropped point from botw zelda's fucking chracter arc #i know it ended with LOOOK!!!! YOU FUCKED UP BY DOING WHAT YOU THOUGHT WAS RIGHT #But damn they could of just not done that shit in totk making her just the #what was jt #idk man they just keep taking away her agency #man and it sucks cuz the dragon is so cool but mf shes forced to do it what she gonna do stay in the past and DIE?#idk man it just all feels hasty. makes me sad #and it sucks cuz a lot of shit shit is really cool and intresting but man idk i may become a botw zelda deserved a better weiter for her #becuase girl she needs a break. not saying chracters cant go through hardship #but there is something so nasty about the framing of youll never be anything but eveey past princess zelda trope and nothing more #instead of a crystal she turns into a dragon like guys this is the same as skyward sword but idk man is it werd to say #when Hylia does it aginst a thing that wants to steal the god triangles and is also a god its like yeah you had no other choice #how the fuck did one fuckass stone make ganondorf into a god like being you would think that like #mannwhy are the stones THAT powerful and why werent the other bitches able to take them down what because #did #did rauru give sonia the equivalent of the one ring at their wedding hey wait a fuck #sorry for all my spelling mistakes but what the fuck man

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abirddogmoment · 11 months

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some thoughts about the pressures of trialing in dog sports and the emotional environment of trials, partially inspired by this post by the beautiful @mongrelization

this post happened to come at a time when I was at a decision point in my trial career with mav. he had just started refusing jumps (i thought it was a training issue at the time, i now know he was in pain) and he wasn't having fun. we were disconnected in the ring, with him choosing to go visit friends or just blow past obstacles without attempting them. it was frustrating and it was such a stark contrast from our training runs (not flawless but immeasurably better than our performances in the ring) and i was making jokes (as everyone does!) about mav being the worst, etc, etc.

except they weren't jokes.

they sounded like jokes and they even felt like jokes in the moment, but looking back i can confidently see that i was frustrated and resentful and the "lighthearted jokes" from other competitors and from myself were just fueling the fire. i saw darcies post shortly after a particularly frustrating trial where we just couldn't connect, i was trying to decide whether to push through and fix our issues or give up completely on agility.

her post wasn't an epiphany, i probably would've gotten there eventually, but her post that said, essentially hey its fucked up to make those jokes about your dog and its fucked up for people to make those jokes about your dog and thats not how a trial should be - something clicked. its NOT how it should be.

i took a break from trialing in everything and cut training way back and just took all the pressure off of mav while i got my internal emotional environment back on track. im a really competitive person and its hard to consciously dial that back, but more than that, it's legitimately embarrassing when things go wrong with people watching you. if your default is humor about it (like mine), its a hard shift to not make jokes about your dog when things go wrong. but its an important and necessary shift.

i started trialing him again after about 3 months off, very lightly. i stopped entering full weekends and opted to do half-days or only saturdays and he fucking THRIVED. i made time to meet all his needs before trials, i prioritized his happiness over technically correct courses, and i got over the embarrassment of excusing myself from a run if it was going downhill. i fixed my internal emotional environment and that fixed our disconnect and made every win more meaningful.

the thing is, i am 100% sure i would not have fixed my emotional environment if i was actively competing and practicing the same patterns. i absolutely had to take that step back to fix myself. you can't make meaningful change if youre still in the middle of it acting it out.

i lost out on trials with mav and that sucked so much in the moment. i had awful FOMO watching my friends compete and finish titles while we did little low-pressure walks at home. but ultimately i gained something so much more important, and looking back i can't bring myself to regret that at all.

#anyway here are some thoughts #its vulnerable dont look at me #i guess the tldr is: if youre stuck in the same pattern and things arent working #take a meaningful and legitimate break #(not a 'oh ill stop trialing and drill these skills' NO)#(an actual break where you take the pressure off you and your dog)#mav hurt himself from a freak accident that could happen to literally any dog that runs #if i had kept the pressure on i wouldve ruined the relationship we had built through training #take the break and take it for the right reasons (your and your dogs' emotional wellbeing)#you cant make meaningful change if you're actively practing your same patterns #i am so so so so so done with dogs lookjng miserable in the ring #if you are not having fun #of your dog is not having fun #if the vibe is 'frantic stressful manic' then i dont want to see it #(if you come at me about DrIvE i will block is2g this is not the post)#i want to see CONFIDENCE i want to see CONNECTION i want to see DELIGHT i want to see actual goodnatured HUMOR #i want to compliment you on the fsct that your dog looked happy #if (dog forbid) you lose your dog tomorrow #will looking back on your trial history bring you comfort? or will it make you sad because #you were always hoping that 'the next one will be better'?#and its okay if the answer is no #but if the answer is no - fix your shit #disclaimer this is not at anyone #this is a reflection of my personal Trauma #if you feel you must roast me about this consider: do not

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