#I try not to stress myself so much on this

[hereonlytofeedwormsinmybrain]

Gonna do it for myself just because

It's okay, altough very conditional

My best friend probably. I genuinely love her so much.

Yes and no, but it's somewhat pointless to dwell about. I'm making some small steps to do stuff I'd do differently back then.

Yeah

Single, never been in a relationship beside friendship and I kinda feel I've missed my window for first one. I'm okay with it tho, probably on a aroace spectrum

I feel like I'm gonna age as an old person. I would like to die with clear mind and self sufficient body.

Peach yoghurt with granola

Not really, I started enjoying sports only few years ago, but I'm still insecure about my skills and body. Want to get into boxing next year.

Not anymore

I've never had any physical fight

I like a lot of people, no one romantically so

Yeah, I studied at an art school and have ADHD, so

No actually

Terribly.

Not now. I love pets, but more in an uncle/aunt way. I'm allergic, very sensory sensitive, and leading somewhat chaotic life.

Neutral. I'm procrrastinating updating my CV, so a little bit worried about that

Never made out with anyone, so no

No, I like them, but in the place I live in they are really small and chill, big one stress me a little bit. Not fear tho, and I like cohabitating with them

I was thinking about it lately, when feverish! And: maybe? I would do a lot of things differently if I could go back like eight years, when I was starting my final year of high school. Very different decisions. Would take better care of myself and wouldn't spiral into this years long depressive/burnout episode. Like I said before, I'm trying to do some stuff I should've done before

blank answer

Uhhhhh I have school so probably deal with interior design and graphic programs

I don't want to bring people, either as a birthing parent nor. not sure how to say it? other parent who also made decision? But I would like to adopt one day, if I have this option, preferably older or teenaged kid. Not building my life toward this moment tho

One, cause the other in other ear closed up. I want one in each nostril, but now I'm dealing with allergies and shit so yeah

As in what?

Terribly. Also, kinda repeating question

Nothing really

Don't think so, but I'm also very oblivious. Maybe platonically.

Nope

blank answer

this guy who is guest in my flat rn, really annoying and don't understand "no" in more annoying way, not creepy way. He's leaving tmr morning

My friends, at least my best friend

I like colors in general so baby blue and hues of red maybe

Yeah

Don't remember

Uhhhhhh my therapist probably? I'm not a big crier

Nope, in fact, I'm too fast to cut people off. Working on it too. Only person who got a shitton on chances was my sister up to the moment she broke my heart. We haven't really talked in like. two and half years

Forget

Not really, 2023 was way better, but it was a decent year for sure

Not sure if it counts, cause I've never had kiss with person i actually wanted to kiss, but kissed some friends when I was uhhhh 22?

Nope. Fuckup with question numbers?

I like cooking in general and do it well, but my comfort food I do always when too tired to do anything else is spaghetti pasta with tomato sauce, since I was a little kid

Yes and not, more like life is this huge choices tree, so like every time you make some choice, new options appears. Logical to me

Read some fanfic

Depends on definition of cheating and relationship, but I do believe cheating as in breaking trust of other person who loves you on deep and intimate level is always wrong.

I think I'm more cruel than mean? And often people read me as mean, this the life of autistic person. I feel my core is just leyers and leyers of kind and cruel

No one???? Are you guys okay

Once again, what's definition? But I'm more into bell hooks understanding of love, as set of action rather than feeling, so how do you define realness in this definition

Big summer storm with lightnings and thunder, that brings coolness after warm and lazy day

Yes, a lot! There's not a lot of it nowadays, but I like it a lot when happens

I see marriage more as a buisness/legal thing, but if I'm ever in a long term realtionship, I probably would like one. Illegal for me in my country atm

When a girl or nb person does it. It shortcuts me a little ngl (hoping for someone who would call me this all the time. Spiritually I'm bottom, would love to check it out irl). When guys try it, even in jokes, I got a violent whiplash

Being in mountain. Spending time with my best friend. Sense of calm after big and dramatic emotions or meltdowns. Playing drums!!!! I have my second lesson tmr :)

Yes, I seriously consider this rn! Anecdote: I was a volounteer and I didn't recognized my name on a timesheet and missed my shift (: But honestly I gotta consider it, feels like a lot. Plus gotta check how my parents feel about it, would hate to get hate crimed and cut off financially. You never know with my parents, look point 1.

Yes, cause I fucking hate her and she's my sister's serious girlfriend rn :)

I'm nb, so it's kinda??? but seeing as I'm read as woman societally and describing myself as a lesbian. Well it would be fucking bad, sorry for that man. My guy friend wouldn't do it to me tho, we all have very sibling/familial realtionship and I draw setup for painting for his new girlfriend so!!!! Cute. As to my girl friend, well, would be awkward cause I really don't want to be her "girl-best friends toxic situationship", not gonna happen tho, she's very straight. If happened, yeah but no, love her but she's not great as romantic partner

(Definitions like in 55) Not complete complete, cause I don't act completely myself to anyone, maybe my best friend? But yeah, we are pretty close with my guy friend

Annoying guest

My best friend

I enjoy the idea of and soulmates in media, but in reality it feels somewhat more tragic and creepy. Not really.

Hmmm. Seeing my past suicidal ideation, I would rather live for someone. And I kinda do, actually :)

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[cuntressgoingdigital]

abby knows how god awful you are at taking care of yourself. fortunately, she learned that just a little bit of help and subtle coercion will force you through your nighttime routine.

(aka bedtime domesticity with abby)

free palestine! click this link for more info

at night when you’re already cozied up under layers of blankets, eyes glued to your phone, she pulls you out of bed and gives you a piggyback ride to the bathroom to force you into your nighttime routine. to start, she carefully undresses you while telling you how beautiful you are and how happy she is after coming home to see her beloved. her days were long and stressful. she absolutely hated coming home late at night, only being able to hold your attention for an hour or two before sleep took over. 

“did you have a good day, baby? i missed you.” 

she’d keep you talking about your day and any other musings to keep you from begging to go back and reclaim your imprinted spot on your shared mattress. 

you lean back against her in the shower, feigning exhaustion so she can hold you up. in reality it was an excuse to feel the warmth of her skin against yours. 

“my poor baby. so, so tired.” her tone would almost sound patronizing if you hadn’t known her mannerisms. “you need me to do it for you?”

you’d nod and she would. the question was superfluous. the answer was always the same. she’d start by gently washing your face with a really expensive specialty cleanser she bought for you on nora’s recommendation. then, she’d use a combination of a washcloth and her hands to wash your body. she ran her hands along your collarbones to your shoulders, slowly moving downwards to your waist and hips. she knelt down in front of you, holding your thighs up one by one, making sure she scrubbed every inch of your body. 

while down on her knees, she couldn’t help but place a few kisses against your hips and thighs. abby always had to resist the urge to bury her face in your cunt right then and there. 

right now, she had a mission. 

these moments were mostly for you. she was a morning shower type of gal, but had no problem making sure you were taken care of, even if you didn’t want to.

after the shower she would take her time toweling you off, taking in your body like it was the first time she’d ever seen you unclothed. every time was the first time to her. she couldn’t get enough of you. 

the two of you would do the rest of your identical skincare routine together, a ritual she imposed as a ruse to get you to actually use the products you begged her to buy for you. while she brushed her teeth, you would undo her braid and carefully detangle her hair. 

at the end of the night she’d carry you right back to your spot in your dark room, pulling out a pair of pajamas for you. they never matched, something that bothered you for a while, but quickly got over knowing she would never hear out your complaints. sure, you could get your own pajamas, but it was more fun putting her to work. abby slept in the same thing every night, just a pair of boxer briefs. 

she was always the last to fall asleep, waiting to see your chest rise and fall in that familiar soft rhythm. until you did, she’d lay and watch your scroll on tik tok. abby refused to download any social media app, so you had to bookmark the videos to show to her at bedtime. the two of you softly giggled together shrouded in darkness.

abby glanced at the time, sitting up in bed to leer down at you. "don't you have to be up early tomorrow?"

"buuuuut, i'm staying up to hangout with you." you whined back.

it took a few moments for abby's face to soften with a defeated sigh "and tomorrow you'll wake up complaining about how sleepy you are."

"maybe." you reluctantly conceded. "but, what if i love you so much and want to sit and talk to you all night?"

"what if i love you more and i'll make you coffee while we talk in the morning?"

"fineeee."

wrote this at like 11pm while laying on my bathroom floor trying to convince myself to take off my makeup. love domestic abby #needthat !!

[idklackingimaginationapologies2]

Would just like to add that I personally would hate doing most of the things I enjoy and am passionate about for money because that would prevent me from being able to enjoy it. And I'm sure many other people feel similarly.

I used to feel really stressed about trying to figure out what job I should have (still do tbh but for different reasons) because I'd been told I should think of what I enjoy doing and translate that into something I could be payed for.

But I always knew that most things I enjoy I need to be able to do with no pressure on them otherwise I won't enjoy them, and I need to be able to do them in order for me to be calm enough and have enough energy to do stuff I don't want to.

So it would have been very helpful for me to have been told before (and not had to figure that out by myself) that sometimes it is enough to enjoy it enough to do it for a long time, that I don't need to enjoy it as much as or in the same way as I enjoy my hobbies.

Obviously for some people this would be a bad way to go about things but for me this is definitely the best.

When you're a kid/teenager everyone expects you to base your career around your passions and interests and that works for a lot of people but it's not the full story. I wish they would also teach students to consider the lifestyle that career would require.

Like... if I had to choose a passion and work a career around it, I would probably work at a zoo or aquarium. But those jobs require a lot of schooling with STEM classes (which I hate) and a lot of early mornings (which make me feel ill) and an obligation to work in person with no flexibility to move (which makes me depressed). So even if I'd enjoy caring for animals all day, it's not a good career path for me.

My current job is travel writing, which is not my passion. I like it, but it's not my passion. But I work a flexible schedule, I can live anywhere, I get a travel stipend, and my team is really chill. So it works for me.

Rather than solely focusing on "What topics do you like?" I think we should ask students "Of the careers that suit your preferred lifestyle, which are the most interesting?"

[sweetkpopmusings]

miserable (you & me) | b. chan <3

a/n: for some reason, i always have the urge to write angst for chan. this scratched that itch, but hopefully it still satisfies you with a happy/hopeful ending :,-) pics not mine~

content: angst, happy ending | wc: 1k | warnings: none really! | pairing: bang chan x gn!reader | requests:open

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

내가 변한 거라면 다시 돌아가 그때로 / “if i’m the one who’s changed, let us go back to the way it was”

it was not as though chan wanted to end up here either. that was apparent to you by the way his eyes were glassy with tears, by the way he breathed through clenched teeth, knuckles white and begging himself to hold it together. he knew that if one tear fell, if one word cracked, it’d all be over. he’d cry until there was nothing left, and, if he wanted to fix this, he needed to be as close to whole as possible. that was nearly impossible, though. being his whole self when he was on the verge of losing you felt like the biggest paradox he could imagine. yet here he was, living it. 

“chan?” your voice was quiet, wanting to bring him back to the conversation but not wanting to scare him away, “we can talk about this later. i know we both have work soon, and i–”

“please,” he whispered, “don’t go yet.”

you nodded, sniffling quietly yourself, hoping he didn’t hear. he did, of course. chan never missed anything when it came to you. except, he learned earlier tonight, that a distance had been forming between you two. 

you knew it wasn’t intentional, but it was starting to hurt. the way he kept forgetting small promises he made, the way he was late to ninety percent of your plans, the way he was only partially present half of the time he was physically with you. it all added up to a dull ache in your chest. that, mixed with the weight of missing him, meant you couldn’t hold it in anymore. that’s how i know it’s not your fault, and i know you’re trying, but i feel like i barely see you now. even when you’re here with me, it’s like you’re a million miles away. i don’t know how much longer i can handle missing you like this. slipped out of your mouth this morning.

his heart broke when that truth entered his reality. chan felt that he had betrayed not only you but also himself. he cared about you more than anything. how could he be so blind to the fact he wasn’t showing up for the person he loved most? how could he not notice that, despite you filling up his mind and heart constantly, he wasn’t proving that to you through his behavior? 

his heart broke even more with how understanding you were. as soon as you said it, you started rattling off the ways his life got in the way, acknowledging that it wasn’t all his fault. how could you be so forgiving of the stress he was under when it was hurting you? how could you be so patient with him when he had been oblivious to this for who knows how long?

chan held your gaze for an eternity, trying to figure out what to say, finally landing on the simplest truth, “y/n, i am so sorry.”

“i know,” you rubbed your hand gently on his shoulder when he cleared his throat, failing to hide the crack in his voice, “i know.”

he sighed and looked at you, risking the tears to take you in fully, to show his apology through his broken expression, “i hate that i’ve hurt you. i hate myself for it. i…i don’t know. it doesn’t even seem fair for me to be hurt in this situation, and i’m not trying to make this about me. i’m just trying to say that you’re so, so important to me.”

chan paused, pulling your hands into his own to reiterate that you were at the center of everything for him. you were his everything.

“i’ve made a huge mistake, and i hate that this mistake left you isolated. you’re the last person i’d want to feel alone. you’re the last person i’d want to lose. you’re the absolute last person i’d want to feel unloved because i love you more than i can grasp. i understand if you have to leave; i understand if you can’t wait around for me to show up in the ways you deserve. i understand…” he paused, willing himself not to fall apart so you didn’t feel the need to comfort him, “do you think we could go back to before i hurt you? i’ll do whatever you need. i swear; i’ll try anything to fix this before it’s too late.”

chan’s tearful gaze held onto you tightly, and you had to put in as much effort as chan to keep yourself from breaking down into a mess of tears and apologies. his unwavering accountability gave you the hope you had lost. the grace and tenderness with which he treated you never ceased to amaze you. he cared for you; there was no doubt about that. his willingness to grow and his acceptance of your decision pushed against the doubts you had of whether he loved you. sitting there, beside him, holding him and his apologies in your arms, you had no doubt that you loved him enough to forgive him again and again.  

“i think we both know that there’s no going back to before. but, chan, i’m not asking to go back, and i’m not leaving. i’m just asking you to come back to me.”

chan sighed with relief, and the tears fell softly and abundantly. the promise of you not leaving was enough to make chan feel as though he could turn the whole world over, just to ensure you knew how grateful he was for you. a small smile formed on his lips, euphoria in the face of your forgiveness. though he couldn’t be too happy, not yet, not when he felt he hadn’t earned it. you could tell, however, by the look in his eyes, he would not rest until he believed your happiness had returned tenfold. only then could he be fully happy himself.

“what do you need? how can i be there for you? please, tell me, so i can make sure i never leave you alone again.”

you smiled, wiping a few tears off chan’s face. already he was proving to you that he’d come back to you every time, no matter what pulled him away. that, you thought, was enough to know you weren’t alone, not when chan was in your life.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Crush

Frederik Vesti x fem!reader, George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: it’s just a stupid crush from her earlier days of fangirling. But when she gets to meet him, it’s not that stupid anymore���

Warnings: cheating; infidelity; curse words; implied smut; no use of Y/N; fluff and love; heartbreak

A/N: I really struggled with this one, I wrote this a while ago, when my English wasn’t my cup of tea so I spent a lot of time with editing, rewriting, but after all I think it’s good. Also it’s another fic about cheating (and I’m writing another already, heh), I think that I might need a serious help in this matter, but whatever, I like to write it, however I wouldn’t do that to anybody I love. Enjoy it!

Please don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

“Are you really ready for this?” Fred said to her hair while she stood in front of the mirror, putting on her jewellery.

“I’m more than ready, Fred. I want to be there for you.” Her nerves were getting the best out of her, but she tried to smile and not worry him much.

They were together for more than a year. Frederick Vesti was driver for Prema team in F2 and he was considered being reserve driver for Mercedes F1 team. Today was a big day for him, he was supposed to get through a practice day at the track for F1. Rookies did that through the season, getting this opportunity from the teams on the grid.

As they arrived to the paddock hand in hand, fans were everywhere trying to get the best snapshots of them. She smiled and held her head high but inside, she was nervous as hell and Fred could tell from the grip of her hand. He just switched his hand from hers over her shoulders in protective way. They got through the crowds to the Mercedes garage, where was the usual chaos.

“Fred! Good you’re here already. And who might this be?” Toto, the Mercedes team principal, was at them with questioning look.

“Hey, Toto. This is my girlfriend.” Fred introduced her with smile.

“Nice to meet you.” Toto offered his hand to her as she accepted it with smile.

“Nice to meet you too, I’m glad to be here.”

“You need to find George. It’s his car you're gonna be driving today.” Toto said and was gone in an instant.

She felt her cheeks being hot. George was her crush from earlier days she’s been watching racing. When she met Fred, she didn’t know that he’s driver. But she wouldn’t change a thing. She’s way past her crush. Right?

“Are you alright? Is everything okay?” Fred gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry. I’m actually enjoying myself.” she chuckled a little.

After some more greetings, they met with George.

“Fred! All lookin’ good! Oh, hey, nice to meet you too, finally. Fred was always talking about you.” George was sparkling with joy as he talked and greeted with her. She smiled widely at him, her dream came true.

“She’s talking about you too, actually.” Fred nudged her shoulder with chuckle.

“Oh no- that’s not-“ she felt her cheeks hot, trying to deny it. She wasn’t talking that much, but she maybe pinpointed it a few times.

George genuinely laughed about it, flashing her his significant smile.

“That’s okay. More fans, more success I guess.”

As they went through the preparations, she focused on Fred, always knew how he was stressed to do the best job and how he was nervous around Toto. When it was the time for him to hop into the car, she went quickly towards him and kissed him for good luck.

“Take care outside. I’m watching.” She smiled, caressing his cheek with loving gaze, which made Fred relax a bit.

“You’re gonna be proud of me.”

“I already am.”

They didn’t notice how George was watching them. Frederik having that good looking girl was almost a crime. And the way she was blushing around him. Oh no, that’s not appropriate, George, Carmen is somewhere around here waiting for you.

She walked to stood beside George, letting out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Feeling scared?” He asked with a soft smile of empathy.

“Always. I’m actually scared shitless every time he gets in that car.” She chuckled nervously.

“Would you like to get some coffee? It’s gonna be an hour or so before he gets back and I’m not allowed to be anywhere close.” He suggested.

“That’s good idea. But I need to be close to the track, I need to watch him.” She smiled.

As they made it to the top roof of the VIP lounge with their cups of coffee, she eagerly watched the track for a sign of Frederik. When she spotted him, she waved a little with excited smile.

George was watching her, how she was excited for her boyfriend, how she seemed to love the racing. And how she waved at that car. His car. And how he would like that she would be waving at him. No, no, George, these thoughts are not for you.

She sipped a little from her cup of coffee as she turned her look at George.

“So, where’s Carmen?” She asked feeling her insides clenching at her name.

“Mmm I think she’s with other girls from the grid. She’s not spending much time outside of the Mercedes hospitality as she wants her own peace. At least she’s here and it gives me some comfort also.” He answered looking into the blank space.

She quirked her brow at those words. “Hm… everyone have it’s own way of spending their time here. Even if this is my first time, I feel like I belong here more than anywhere else. I know how it feels like being on the other side, sitting on the grid tribune and hoping some driver would take notice of me. Not that I would be so desperate, but I saw you one time I was at Hungaroring, and I naively thought that you just waved at me. Silly me.” She laughed softly as she spoke and she wasn’t really sure why she told him this but it made sense to her at the time.

His eye softened at her confession. He would wave at her if he knew. Fuck, again, George?

“How you and Fred met? You’re not together for long, are you?”

“Actually, it was kind of funny. I was in Denmark last spring and I was just walking around the park with my AirPods on and somehow I crossed his path, when he was riding a bike. He fell in the nearby pond, trying to avoid the crash. And I felt so guilty that I apologised nearly thousand times. We shared laughs, stories and it clicked instantly. It was a year and half already and I couldn’t imagine to have someone better by my side. We decided to take it slow and not to worry about public eye. But now we’re here, taking another step in our relationship.” As she talked she was somehow in her dreamy haze when she smiled at the memories. Fred was truly an amazing partner, supportive, loving, everything she wanted in a man.

“That sounds like a scene from the cheesy rom com. No offense.” George tried to chuckle in funny way, brushing off another of his thoughts.

“Yeah, it may, but it’s true. I didn’t consider myself lucky until that day I met him.” She chuckled, taking another sip of her coffee.

Today, I’m the luckiest. Holy shit, George, get a grip man.

As she caught a glimpse of Fred in the car getting through another lap, Carmen appeared out of nowhere finding George.

“Hi, gorgeous, I was looking for you.” Carmen smiled, sneaking her hands around his waist while eyeing her. She turned her look from track at Carmen and she smiled politely.

“You must be Carmen. Nice to meet you.” She offered her hand to her with kind smile. George noticed the confusion of his girlfriend.

“She’s here with Frederik, who is on the track instead of me, like I told you. She wanted to have the best view over the track.” George knew how to navigate Carmen’s feelings to get her comfort. Carmen on the other hand relaxed.

“Ah, I see, nice to meet you too. Your first time here?”

“First time at the paddock, but overall not quite first time. I know the drill.”

“So, you’re a fan. Who is your favourite driver?”

“It’s Fred of course..”

“No, I mean, beside your boyfriend.”

“You mean before I met Fred? I was fan girl for Max Verstappen.” She chuckled as she lied smoothly. George snorted a little, but Carmen was satisfied with the answer.

“But that days are long gone, I don’t have time for fan girling over someone else beside my man.” She smiled looking over track again.

George felt strange jealousy. Carmen wasn’t like that for a long time. Yes, she was supporting him from aback, but she was more into her own stuff that came with being his girlfriend.

Fred got the fastest lap during the practice. When he came back to the garage, everybody congratulated him, bringing the joy and excitement to his performance. But the first person he wanted to see was his girlfriend. She nearly jumped into his arms with giggles.

“You were amazing.”

“Thanks, I was shaking throughout the whole session.”

She kissed his cheek, when she caught George staring at them from afar. He noticed that and he cleared his throat, going to look over performance sheets.

Fred spent another hour with him going through his performance on the track. She spent her time aside, going through her own business.

From that day on, Fred was spending much more time over the Mercedes garage during the races. She wasn’t always able to attend, but she tried as much as she could. She became a very good friend with George and others in the team. Carmen tried to talk with her also, but she held that strange distance between them.

On the other hand, George tried to suppress his thoughts and feelings towards her.

———

There was a party after the qualifying day in Montreal, she arrived in the last minute feeling badly jet lagged. As she was getting her third drink of the night, she felt a little tipsy, the tiredness wearing her off. Fred was enjoying himself maybe too much, he was drunk as hell and dancing with the guys, completely forgetting about his girlfriend, who was standing beside a bar downing her drink, deciding to get some sleep. George saw her and he was on his way to her.

“Not enjoying the party?” George was beside her startling her a little.

“Holy shit, George… no, I’m- I’m tired and Fred is having fun himself.” she sighed as she went to the elevator and George went after her.

“I saw how he’s having fun, totally ditching you.” George crossed his arms.

“He’s just stressed he needs to release some tension.”

“And what about you? You don’t need to release tension?”

She looked up at him with a little confused expression.

“What- No. I don’t need that.” Her cheeks were getting hot from the way he talked and from the way he was close. The elevator dinged her level of hotel room and she walked out quickly. George went after her in silence.

“Why are you not at party? Why are you here with me?” She turned on her heels, when she reached the door of her hotel room. George leaned against the wall as he looked at her.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Look, George. I noticed. I noticed how you’re looking at me when you think that nobody’s looking.”

George scoffed looking to the side. “That’s not true.”

“Whatever. Good night.” She unlocked the door to her room but he grabbed her by her arm, she wasn’t even able to open the door and he was dragging her to the direction of his room.

“George- what-“

In a moment they were in his room, she was standing in the middle looking furious at him while he closed the door and looked at her with dark look. The room was soaked in his scent and it made her mind going crazy.

“You’re crazy.” She said to break the silence.

“I am. Into you.” With that words he closed the gap between them, kissing her. She gasped in shock, trying to push him away first, but then she melted into his touch deepening the kiss. It was a sign for him to pull her closer to him as his right hand went to her hair and his left hand rested on her back.

She pushed him away after a while and he just looked at her with desire in his eyes.

“This- we can’t- it’s wrong.” She stuttered while her hand trailed from his neck to his chest.

“I need you. And I’m not gonna stop until the moment I’ll have you.” He said his hand caressing her cheek while his thumbs brushed off her lower lip.

“Shit, George…” she whispered and continued to kiss him.

Next morning she woke up beside Frederik. Remembering what happened last night, she felt a pang in her chest. Taking a cold shower it felt slightly better, but when she looked over to the mirror her eyes went wide with horror. The way her body was bruised, it looked like someone attacked her. Luckily her neck was untouched, so she could put on her shirt and jeans and it looked good. When she walked out the bathroom, Fred was awake, totally hungover.

“Hey, babe. I’m so sorry for last night.” Fred started to speak while the confusion was overtaking him. She got to him as she hugged him tightly. He just relaxed into her arms with smile.

“It’s okay. But please don’t get this drunk again. You were a real mess when you arrived here.” she chuckled a little. It was sort of true. At night she was in the room for a ten minutes after her heated session with George, when Fred was drunkenly trying to get into their room. She only managed to get him to the bed because he was already sleeping.

“I don’t remember anything. I’m so sorry.” Fred just rested his head in the crook of her neck.

“Don’t worry about it, Freddie. But we need to get you in shape because today is a race day.” She laughed at his groan.

She knew that meeting George was inevitable. At least Carmen wasn’t there, so she wouldn’t be looking at her all day.

As they arrived at the paddock, Lando spotted them and joined them.

“So, Fred, you enjoyed yourself last night?”

“Ehm, yeah. Pretty much.”

Lando turned at her with curious look. “What about you? I saw you walking away rather early.”

“I was just so tired from that jet lag. I needed some sleep.” With that words they happened to meet George at the entrance of the garage.

“Hey, mate! We really ruined Fred last night, didn’t we?” Lando grinned at George while she looked at him with amused smile, thinking that he was also so wasted that he didn’t notice George being gone for the most of the evening.

“Yeah, we really did. You need to work on your stamina, Fred.” George chuckled as his eyes flicked at Grace for the brief moment.

“This man needs to get prepared for his business today, see you later.” she pushed Fred forward as she wasn’t in a mood to talk more. Fred just chuckled, getting his arm over her shoulder to move her closer to him.

George saw that little gesture and he felt extremely jealous, his mind was filled with the things he did with her last night.

Watching Fred from the VIP lounge, she enjoyed her alone time. Being in Montreal wasn’t the best idea and she now knew why. Looking over her watch, she really pushed time forward, longing to get back to London and get away from all the thoughts that filled her mind.

“I knew you’d be here.” It was George, now standing beside her, his race suit on along with his sunglasses, looking like he’s not giving single fuck about anything.

“Where else would I be?” She sighed with obvious smile.

“We need to talk about last night.”

“No we don’t. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Wasn’t it? I have Fred and you have Carmen.”

“I just-“

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

George just nodded and walked away. Throughout the day, they avoided each other. Fred talked her into spending some more time in the Mercedes garage, to get to know who won the GP. George ended up second. She and Fred stood under the podium, everything was overwhelming so when George received the trophy, she felt her cheeks being wet. He locked his eyes with hers in soft gaze as he smiled like he always did at her. So nice, pretty and loving. It was moment only for them. Something that never was and never will be.

“Love, you’re crying.” Fred said with soft voice, trying to brush her tears off.

“It’s just a joy from all of this.” She grinned suppressing her heartbroken smile.

“You’re really into this with your whole heart.” Fred smiled as he pulled her into his arms. She looked up at George again, he was watching them his eyes filled with tears too, but everybody thought it was tears of happiness. She turned her head to the other side of the podium and it was the last look she took at George for a very long time.

———

Months passed and the racing season was nearing its end. From the Canada she didn’t attend any races or events saying that she’s under pressure of being a good girlfriend and she didn’t want to be at spotlight. Frederik respected it, but at first he found it hard to understand it. But they got used to it and she tried to make him believe that it eventually gets better over time.

It was November, everyone was getting prepared for Christmas. Frederik got on his plane to get to Brazil as she went shopping some presents. She really loved Christmas at London.

“I’m already on the plane, I’m excited guys. My first Brazil!” - Fred

“Is your beloved coming with you to see that too?” - Lewis

“No, she’s not well with the crowds still and she decided to decorate our flat for Christmas.” - Fred

George sat in the headquarters at Brackley eating his snack, while he read the group conversation with his teammates. As he turned his phone down he looked a little zoned out.

“Hey, George. It looks our flight is delayed because of the weather. We’re coming tomorrow night or maybe the day after.” His manager said to him with frown.

George looked up at him with a soft smile. “Actually it’s okay, I need to get something done.”

———

She felt pretty content with the atmosphere around her. With her bags on her shoulder, she walked to the café at the corner in front of the apartment complex she was living with Fred. Sitting next to the huge glass window she had a beautiful view to the Christmas tree on the square. Feeling the warmth of the mug with coffee in her hands, she was looking outside. Suddenly a figure walked around the window and she caught the glimpse of the man. He looked away but abruptly he looked back to her direction. It was George. She couldn’t stop staring, surprised to see him after that long time. He looked surprised too, but didn’t hesitate a second and he stepped inside the café, slowly approaching the table she was sitting at.

She stood from the chair still holding his gaze. He took a few quick steps towards her and he hugged her. His embrace was tight and warm, it felt like being home. She hugged him back getting him even closer to her, his scent filling her senses. For quite some time they just stood there, hugging each other. Then she pulled back from him looking into his eyes.

“Coffee?”

George only nodded as he sat across from her at the table. She got him a coffee and sat back to her chair.

“You’re supposed to be on your way to Brazil.”

“My flight was delayed. I’m coming tomorrow or day after. I don’t know still for sure.”

“How come you’re in London?”

“I was at Brackley, getting some preparations done.”

“That’s not London.”

“I saw in our group chat, that you’re not coming and that you’re staying here at home. Maybe I’m crazy, but I wanted to find you and talk to you. I can’t bear it anymore.”

He looked at her with desperation over his face. Her eyes softened at his confession.

“I’m sorry about you and Carmen. You were truly a power couple.”

“How can you look into Fred’s eyes? When I’m the one you love.”

“What… How can you tell who I love or not?”

“You’re avoiding me by not going to races. You shut down your socials and you’re not answering my texts. You’re clearly running away from something.”

“That’s not your business, George. Even if… even if there would be any possibility of us being together, how would I appear in the public eye, in the eyes of your teammates, supporting you instead of him? I don’t want to be a bitch.”

“And yet you’re still thinking about others and not about you. What do you want? What you truly and really want?”

She ran her hand through her hair, looking around, trying to avoid the answer to that question.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not in mood for this. I want my peace. It’s gonna be Christmas for the god's sake!”

“What is that one thing you want? You don’t want peace, you don’t want perfect Christmas, you want passion, you want to be that girl at the tribune waving and screaming at her favourite drivers.”

“It’s not that-“

“Just say it!”

“You! I want you! Holy shit, George! I wanted you from the first time I laid my eyes on you a long time ago!”

She really said that loudly. Her hand went on her mouth as she was shocked by the strange flutter in her chest from that words.

George exhaled in relief, his frustrations fading away. Hearing her saying it shook his entire core. He wouldn’t even think that this woman would change his life to the point he’d be so desperate for her.

“What do we do now?”

“I don’t know.”

She invited him over to the flat she shared with Fred. She made dinner for them, they ate together and ended up watching some reality show at the TV. All of that filled with loving gazes, soft laughs and sweet touches. She was curled on the sofa her head in the George’s lap while she was watching TV and enjoying his hand caressing her hair. It felt so natural that they nearly forgot about the real world around them. Suddenly she rolled over on her back looking up at him. George looked down at her with questioning look.

“What?”

“Nothing. I could just look at you for my whole life and that wouldn’t be enough.”

He took her hand into his, bringing it to his lips and placing it on his cheek leaning into her palm. Feeling the warmth of her skin, he felt like he would do anything to not break this moment. He was falling deeper and deeper into the pool of love.

She prepared for him the towel and some oversized clothes she had herself in the bathroom as she was done with showering. George, like a gentleman he was, wanted to sleep on the couch at first but she denied that idea. She prepared the guest room for them, because she didn’t want for him to sleep in the bedroom she shared with Fred.

Waiting for George to come to bed, she was half asleep when he slipped under the covers.

“Just sleep, love. Enjoy our little universe, where it’s only us for tonight.” He whispered into her hair pulling her closer to him.

“Mhm… good night, George….” She said softly as she drifted off to sleep.

In the morning they were woken up by ringing of his phone. George groaned as he answered the call.

“…yeah?”

“Where are you? I got us an early plane, we need to get to the Heathrow in three hours.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be there on time.”

She stirred in her sleep, waking up to George smiling at her. It was sight for sore eyes and she smiled sleepily.

“Good morning. Sorry for waking you up, but my manager clearly have some trust issues with me.”

George kissed her forehead as she chuckled and hugged him tight humming into his chest.

“You need to get to Brazil, I know. I don’t want this moment to end.”

“One day, I’ll give you thousands of these moments…” he placed a kiss on the top of her head holding her close.

After quick breakfast, George was ready to go and it was time to say goodbye. They stood in the hallway of the flat, her hand brushing over his jacket with a sad smile.

“Be careful out there. And don’t forget that I’m watching you on the track. I’m with you even if I’m not.”

“I love you. I need to say it.”

“I love you too, George. I always had.”

Race weekend at Brazil went by and Fred was home by Sunday midnight. She spent whole weekend chatting with George over texts. She really didn’t know, how to handle the situation with Fred.

Sitting in the living room, Fred walked into the room, his face holding a strange expression.

“Hey, Freddie. How was your flight?” she smiled softly, slowly getting from the sofa to walk to him.

“Hey.. It was… it was good.” He answered quickly with a nervous smile.

She looked at him with confusion while he slightly backed away from her.

“What’s wrong with you, Fred?”

He ran a hand through his hair in slight frustration. He couldn’t even look into her eyes. She felt scared that he might know something, but she tried to stay calm.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I did something… I can’t even look at you right now.”

“Fred, what-“

She tried to grab his hand but he flinched away.

“I… we were at the party with the boys at Saturday and… there was this girl I… she’s test driver for Ferrari and I always had a crush on her and we talked and…”

“You slept with her.”

She said it so casually that it surprised her. Fred shot her a look with guilt.

“It’s not that I don’t love you, but… you’re so distant and I needed to feel… wanted.”

She nodded, deep down feeling the strange relief that she doesn’t need to get her own secret out to spotlight.

“Look, Fred… I thought about us a lot… I love you, but it’s not the same as it was. You’re great person, caring, loving and kind. But I feel stuck. I’m not myself. And I don’t want to hurt you by my distant behaviour, you deserve so much more.”

Fred looked at her with nod.

“You’re so kind. You also deserve so much more.” He hugged her. She relaxed into his arms feeling relieved inside.

“You’re gonna always be my friend. No matter what. Just go for that girl. If she’s your dream come true, make it reality. Because she’d make you happy.”

———

Within weeks they sold their apartment and started to live on their own. Fred was all over his feelings into that Ferrari girl, he was sharing it with his ex-girlfriend, because why not, she was happy for him.

Time flew by and another season of racing started.

Being at Bahrain was a first time for her. Same as being a girlfriend to the famous F1 driver.

Fred was supposed to be there with Elle, the Ferrari girl, and it was also her first appearance as a George’s girlfriend.

George parked the car near the entrance of the paddock. She exhaled shakily, trying to be calm.

“Are you alright, love?” He grabbed one of her hands, while she nodded with smile.

“I’m good, George.”

They entered the paddock and crowds went wild. Everybody wanted a photo with them, but George politely refused trying to make it to the garage quickly. She gave her smiles all around them, trying to be nice.

Lando met them near the garages and he froze in his tracks in shock.

“Holy fucking hell!”

Both of them looked at him with surprise. Lando walked closer to them crossing his arms on chest.

“How did you do it?”

She looked at him confused. “What?”

“Hide this!” Lando grabbed their intertwined hands.

“Eh-“

“No way! What a surp-“ Fred came out of the Mercedes garage with wide smile in a surprise to see her there, but when he saw how George was holding her hand, his face changed into shock.

“Surprise indeed. Hey, Fred.” she smiled kindly, giving him a side hug. Fred got out of his trance, looking at her and then back at George.

“You two- you are-“

Elle, the Ferrari girl, joined them as she heard Fred talking to someone. “Hi! We didn’t expect you here! What a nice surprise!”

George was confused about situation maybe more than Lando, whose jaw was dropped on the ground.

“Hey, Elle, yes, it’s a surprise. And yes, me and George are together, as a couple.” she chuckled at the absurdity of the moment.

“Hm… I understand now.” Fred said with smirk, which was something that took her aback.

“What are you talking about?”

“I noticed how you two were looking at each other. Now it makes sense.” Fred smiled genuinely.

She lifted her gaze at George with her loving gaze while George was already looking at her, absolutely mesmerised.

“I might get a diabetes from how sweet all of you are.” Lando said with laugh.

[whorrorbvby]

an update:

hey friends a lot of people have been asking where ive been on other socials and im sorry for being m.i.a and ignoring everyone’s worries. im not getting into it right now and i dont know if i want to talk about the details publicly. 

i deleted tumblr from my phone about two and a half weeks ago and ive had a friend keeping a queue going on main for me. it might be that way permanently now i don’t know. I don’t know that I want to come back to tumblr if im being honest. a lot of things happened and i just can’t handle seeing certain people anymore so i’ve been hanging out on two of the more safer socials where tumblr people people generally leave me alone. not that im upset with you any of you or anything it’s more of a personal relationship and it just turned me off of basically everything and i just can’t handle a lot right now.  

i didn’t want to stop posting my own content for obvious reasons but i really can’t bring myself to come back it’s too hard and my heart can’t handle it right now. i also haven’t taken any new photos or anything and as of right now i don’t really feel super comfortable in sharing my body in that way. situations have made me feel disgusting as a person and i can’t look at myself. im trying to post more on ig to boost myself back up but i don’t know my self image is kind of ruined now. plus i’ve lost 15lbs from stress and inability to eat because of it and with how many people already harass and bully me for how scrawny i am i don’t want to subject myself in my current mental state to even the possibility of anyone saying anything. 

but like i said i have a friend running main for me and i might have them run this account too and my pepper page just because i do want to go back to making content i just dont know if i can handle posting or being in certain spaces right now. 

on top of what im currently dealing with in my personal life this is just a really hard time for me in general because of the holiday season and close to the anniversary of my best friends death so i tend to shut down a little anyway it’s just my entire world came crashing down again and im honestly starting to give up on even existing. i know im being melodramatic and i need to suck it up and just go back to status quo it’s just really hard this time and i cant force myself into a positive headspace like i used to even for a second. i have honestly never felt this empty and i barely know who i am or what my worth is anymore. 

i dont know if i’ll turn my asks back on. my friend offered to answer anything for me but its better for my mental health if i dont because i know people will ask questions and i dont trust myself to not completely go off on a tangent. im sorry i know im rambling but i feel like a proper update with zero room for misunderstanding is needed and i dont want to sugarcoat or lie to any of you to make myself seem or feel better cuz i respect the hell out of you guys and you deserve honesty if for nothing else. and i appreciate so fucking much you all continuing to support me and hype me up through all the bullshit life keeps throwing at me. 

im mostly on ig and threads right now and on threads im talking about games and movies with new people im meeting and it’s been really helping through shit. if you follow me on snap you saw me say im thinking about deleting everything. my accounts are still up and as long as my friend still wants to help me out i’ll at least have a queue running on main but i’ve deleted every social app other than ig and threads. i wholeheartedly planned on deleting snap last night but it’s the only way some of you get any updates from me so for now i wont delete it but i might make a new one instead just to get away from situations that are bringing me down. we’ll see. if I make a new snap i’ll post it everywhere n put it in my bios. that being said i don’t have a private/nsfw snap and i wont make one im sorry. i still wont sell content outside of what i post on peppers and i wont do customs im sorry. maybe in the future but right now i need to focus on myself and getting out of this headspace before i do anything else. 

but truly thank you for sticking with me and just genuinely being the best crew around. i promise to try my best to get out of this mess of a headspace im in as quickly as possible and im really sorry for basically abandoning everything again but i really am hopeful for the future and just trying to focus on myself and my happiness at the moment 🙏🏻🧡

[midnightbears]

✿ duskbound, afterlight.

#STARRING: cybertronian femme reader & other characters.

#TAGS: fighting. lots of fighting. wounds. mentions of pain. flashbacks. 'alluding' to prostitution.

#NOTES: i actually feel so weird for this chapter because not much happens (in a sense), but i can't stress enough how much i want you to feel the mc as an actual character instead of this just being a romance story, and i'm establishing this not only for you but also for myself! you will need to read the mc's character arcs and individual chapters, even if they're long or you might think are unnecessary. if you don't read them, you're going to miss out on crucial points of the story! character arcs for your mcs are essential! even when they're just y/n! y/n is still a character, and they need a good backstory and moments to flesh them out thoroughly. fanfiction should be made with as much love and care as a 'real' book would need to be. with my usual rant issued, enjoy <3

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

You remembered setting down the tiny bundle of belongings you carried, the meager possessions you owned neatly placed on the edge of your new berth, and your new pickaxe and hammer drill. You were still deciding where to put your things when the voice of who would be your new berthroom companion caught you off guard, breaking the silence like a sudden gust of wind.

“You can come out, my love. All is well.”

You had quizzingly looked at her after the words left her mouth, but you grew even more confused when you realized she was not looking your way. Instead, she was looking at the small locker at the end of her berth.

There was a hesitant creak, the metallic sound echoing in the quiet room. A small servo gripped the edge of the locker’s door, trembling slightly, and then a tiny figure peeked out—a sparkling, her frame barely more than a fragile outline against the dim light. She was almost painfully small, her light turquoise plating catching the faint glow in the room. 

“Come here, my light,” Starlight called out gently, extending a servo in a welcoming gesture as she sat at the edge of her berth.

The sparkling hesitated, her optics flicking nervously between you and her carrier. Her whole frame trembled with uncertainty.

You tried to make yourself look smaller, less imposing, feeling your spark crumple and crush with sympathy and curiosity at the existence of such innocence in this hellhole. So many questions and doubts ran through your processor at a speed that even the most talented racers would be jealous of.

Then, with a deep vent that sounded almost like a sigh, the sparkling took a cautious step toward her carrier. And another. And another. Until she was close enough to be scooped up into her arms.

“There you are,” She said with a tender smile, gathering the sparkling to her chest as if she were the most precious thing in the universe. The little one buried her face against her mother's chassis, and you could hear the faint whirr of her tiny cooling fans as she snuggled close, seeking comfort in the familiar embrace. Her servo moved slowly up and down the sparkling’s back. “I’m sorry for scaring you, sweetie. You’re very brave, are you not?”

Suddenly, she looked at you.

“I’m glad they sent another femme, I wasn’t about to take chances with someone who wouldn’t understand what it’s like.” She said. Although her voice was steady and unembellished, an undercurrent of intensity ran through it—tender and fiercely protective, issuing a warning. You could sense that this caution wasn’t aimed at you, but rather at some shadowy threat that lingered just beyond reach. “If they’d sent a mech, I would have thrown him out myself.”

You blinked, taken aback by her straightforwardness. You nodded slowly, trying to keep your expression open and unthreatening. Your voice was a little hesitant, unsure of how to respond to her. “I... I’m glad I’m here too.”

“Good,” she said, a half smile on her lip components, her gaze not wavering. “Then we’ll get along just fine. I’m Starlight, this is Vaportrail... she’s my everything. And I won’t let anything—or anyone—hurt her.”

Her tone now had no softness, only a hard-edged determination that made your spark tighten. This wasn’t a carrier who would let her guard down easily, not for anyone, and certainly not for someone she didn’t trust. But there was a flicker of relief in her optics, a softening around the edges as if admitting that your presence didn’t feel like a threat was a victory all on its own.

Which, in a way, made you very sad.

You opened your dermas, unsure of what to say, but Starlight cut you off with a small smile, her laughing, purple optics seizing you. “Don’t take it personally. I’m just... careful. They don’t make it easy for femmes like us. Especially not for carriers. I’m not about to apologize for doing what I must to keep her safe.”

You nodded quickly. “I—I understand. I don’t want to intrude. I just... I didn’t realize you had a little one here.”

“No, it’s fine,” Starlight said, waving a servo dismissively but not loosening her hold on Vaportrail. “You’re here now, and that’s that. They didn’t exactly ask my opinion before sending you, but... you seem alright.” Her optics scanned you up and down like she was weighing you, judging if you were genuinely trustworthy. Whatever she saw, it made her relax a fraction. “We’ll see how it goes.”

There was a silence that felt heavier than it should, and Vaportrail shifted a little, peeking out from the safety of her carrier’s hold. Her optics were still wide and oscillating, but there was a flicker now, like the spark of a tinderbox, and you managed a tentative smile. It felt awkward and unsure, but it seemed the right move because Vaportrail didn’t look away.

Starlight’s expression softened again, just a little, as she glanced down at her daughter. She leaned in and murmured, “This is…” She looked back up at you precipitously, “Sorry, what’s your name?”

You told her your new designation, the new number of the H branch in Mining Outpost R–02. You’d need to get used to it, but it would be easy enough. The overseer of your branch had already taken to refer to you as simply ‘8’.

Starlight almost grimaced at your words but soon looked down at the sparkling. “This is H-08. She’s going to stay with us for a while.”

The sparkling didn’t respond, but she didn’t hide either, and you took that as a small victory.

Starlight turned her optics towards you, revealing the complexities within her gaze—gentleness intertwined with determination, a fierce sense of protection that nearly felt rebellious. Above all, you noticed a tentative hope. It was delicate, nearly fragile, resembling something seldom relied upon and sustained by pure resolve. It felt like she was challenging you, silently urging you to either validate her doubts or, maybe, to offer her a reason to believe.

“Just make yourself comfortable,” she said with a half-smirk. “But don’t go thinking you’re a guest. You’re part of this now. And if you’ll be here, you’ll do your part to keep her safe, too.”

You nodded, meeting her gaze with all the sincerity you could muster.

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll do my best.”

You didn’t expect to follow Bluey’s advice that well.

Although you still felt anxious, there was one important lesson he ensured you understood, which was the primary reason you were managing to perform mediocrely well in the current match. Five simple words, but ones he made sure to drill into you, even at the cost of hearing him utter the sentence in your dreams.

“Always keep your head cool.”

The arena bore the scars of your prolonged clash—scorched craters, gouges in the walls, and the acrid tang of overheated metal. Across the battered expanse, your opponent circled behind a wall of waste metal. He was tall and bulky, his frame a juggernaut that had already tested your limits more than once. 

A younger you might have faltered by now, let exhaustion or his relentless power shake your resolve. But this wasn’t then. You adjusted your stance, steadying your frame and keeping Bluey’s advice sharp in your processor. This wasn’t over yet.

“Let them think they’ve got the upper hand, then take it from them in one clean swoop.”

Your opponent grinned, baring sharp teeth, his optics gleaming with something dark and eager. He lunged toward you, hurling a heavy swing of his greatsword, too fast and keen for a clean kill.

Good. You could work with that.

You ducked low, slipping just out of reach. He lunged forward, his momentum betraying him as he faltered, thrown off balance for a fleeting moment. The crowd's uproar filled the air, their cheers rising in a mighty wave, drowning out all other sounds. Bright flashes of light erupted around you, glinting off your polished armor and that of your opponent, creating a dazzling display that danced in the periphery of your vision.

“Most mechs here don’t think before they swing. Let them come to you. Half the fight is watching them trip over themselves. They’ll do half the work if you let them.”

You let him close in again, his optics narrowing as he swung, aiming for your helm this time. A broad swing of his arm—you had seen it a dozen times in practice with Bluey by now. You sidestepped and his fist cut through space, too slow to catch you. The warhammer in your grasp seemed to flow into your movements, and you did not even feel its heaviness.

He cursed, stumbling again, his frustration evident as he recovered, his vents heaving. Bluey was right; your opponent wasn’t thinking, only reacting. And now, with him unbalanced, it was time to make your move.

"Think quick, strike quicker. You don’t need to go for a kill shot in friendly matches. Just hit them where it hurts.”

So you did. Darting forward, you aimed low with your weapon, catching him squarely in the side with a swift, well-placed jab to his knee joint. The impact reverberated through your frame, his armor giving way just enough for you to feel the shock of metal against metal. He staggered, his vents hissing in pain, and you took advantage of his faltering balance, pressing forward with another strike to his leg.

His frame buckled, his weight crashing to one knee as he tried and failed to push himself back up. His optics flared with rage as he swiped at you again, desperation taking over, but you were already out of reach, watching his movements with a clear, unclouded gaze.

"A calm mind’s your greatest weapon. Most fights end the second your opponent loses his cool. Hold onto yours, and you’ll outlast them every time.”

You watched as your opponent struggled, rage overtaking his features as he realized his momentum had failed him. He staggered back, clutching his damaged leg, his optics wild, searching for some way to turn the tide. But you were already moving, closing in before he could react. A quick swipe to his shoulder joint sent him stumbling back again, a desperate growl tearing from his vocalizer as his arm dropped, sparking where the wiring had split.

The crowd’s roars escalated, but for once, the noise didn’t faze you. You kept your focus on him, your field of vision narrowing down to this one mech and his dwindling options.

“A hit’s only as strong as the bot that lands it. Don’t go for flashy moves if a simple strike will do the job.”

So you didn’t. You kept it simple and calculated, landing a swift, final blow to his remaining arm joint. His frame shuddered, forced down by the impact as he slumped forward, defeated but still functional, vents whirring unevenly as he struggled to catch his breath.

You took a step back, exhaling as you held your stance, ready to react to any last-ditch effort he might make. But there was nothing—no fight left in him, just the slow, begrudging slump of a mech who knew he’d been bested.

Another one. You’d done it! Shifting your helm toward the other side of the arena, you glimpsed the opening that connected the arena to the Gladiators’ lobby, and you swore that behind the bars, you could see a pair of familiar ochre-pigmented optics looking at you.

Bluey was there too, flashing a cheerful, childish thumbs-up as a wide grin spread across his face. He mimicked a series of playful punches aimed at the air, then broke into applause, cheering you on with boundless enthusiasm. You did not mind it. It actually made you smile.

Just as you turned toward the exit, you were so close to doing so as you began taking the first step; a pair of guards came to haul the mech onto a stretcher, and one of them harshly gripped your shoulder, evoking a grunt from your voicebox.

“You’re not done.”

You wrenched yourself free from his hold but stared at him confusedly, “We were the last ones on the list for today.”

“Not anymore.” The other answered for his partner, staring intensely at you despite his visor. “There’s been a last-minute change for your matches.”

‘Bullway.’ You looked away with irritation in your features (never directed at them), which was answer enough for the pair of guards. They began carrying the wounded gladiator away, fighting the urge to stifle their laughs while the mech deliriously quaked about his pain.

With a languid motion, you allowed your shoulders to roll back, reclaiming your position at the heart of the arena. To entertain the multitude of cybertronians around you, you threw your arms wide above your helm, sending a ripple of exhilaration through the crowd, igniting a cacophony of cheers and shouts.

You gazed at them in mild, calculated satisfaction. In some manner, the audience determined the level of excitement in the fight, and you felt a sense of relief knowing it would be exceptionally some time before you started boring them, even if you felt disgusted by their entertainment.

Suddenly, the other gate opened.

He emerged from the shadows. You’d seen him before, though only in passing. You hadn’t paid much attention to him then; now, it was impossible to look away.

His frame was massive, and his armor was scarred from dozens of battles. The faint glow of his optics burned like embers, and the sharpness of his gaze cut through the haze of dust and noise that filled the arena. His steps were heavy and measured, the kind of stride that wasn’t rushed because it didn’t need to be.

He stopped in the center of the pit, his helm tilting slightly as his optics locked onto you.

“So,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, carrying easily over the noise. “This is what they’ve got for me today?”

You tightened your grip on your warhammer, your digits aching. He was assessing you. You could feel it—a predatory gaze that lingered just long enough for you to start overthinking. Still, you said nothing. Words were a distraction. Both Bluey and Megatronus made points about that.

He seemed to take your silence as an insult. His mouth pulled into a sharp grin that didn’t reach his optics.

“They’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel now, aren’t they?” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain, each word sharp as a dagger. “Sending me, Celsius, some nobody.”

Your helmet shifted slightly, and the question slipped from your dermas before you could rein in your need to make him angry. “Who?”

In an instant, the atmosphere around him transformed dramatically, thickening with an almost electric tension. It surged through him, coiling like a tightly wound spring just moments before it snapped, tight and expectant. The playful mockery that had once danced mischievously in his optics was snuffed out, leaving behind an unsettling void. In its place, a chilling darkness crept in, settling heavily over his features, distorting the lines of his face.

“‘Who?’” he repeated, his voice dropping to a growl. “You don’t know who I am?”

You stared at him, unflinching. “No.”

The crowd caught wind of the exchange, and a wave of laughter rippled through the stands. His frame stiffened, his optics narrowing as the noise grew louder.

“You’re funny,” he said, though his tone suggested he didn’t find it amusing. “That’s good. Keep that up—it’ll make this more entertaining.”

Without warning, he lunged.

For a mech his size, he moved with startling speed, closing the distance between you in a handful of strides. His fist came down like a hammer, a strike meant to pulverize. You twisted away just in time, his blow slamming into the ground with a force that sent tremors up through your stabilizers.

You darted back, your hammer raised defensively as you sized him up.

He was fast, yes, but his movements were heavy, over-committed. He fought like someone who had never needed to think about his strength—who had always relied on brute force to overpower his opponents.

“Stay still!” he barked, his voice sharp with irritation as he swung again, the arc of his arm slicing through the air.

You ducked, letting his momentum carry him past you.

“You’re wasting energy,” you said, the words slipping out before you could think better of it.

His growl was low and guttural, and when he turned back to you, his optics blazed with rage.

“You’ve got a smart mouth, I heard,” he said, his vents heaving. “Let’s see how smart it is when I’m done with you.”

He lunged at you once more, his movements becoming increasingly wild and unrestrained, each swing of his fists wide and erratic. You sidestepped, remembering the footwork Bluey had practically made you memorize. Your opponent wasn’t relying on his tactical knowledge; instead, he was fueled by a burning sense of pride. That pride, however, was proving to be his greatest weakness, as it blinded him to the precision and finesse with which you fought.

“Who trained you?” he sneered, his words cutting through the air like shrapnel. “Or did they just toss you in here to die?”

You didn’t answer. There was no point. Instead, you waited, watching for the next opening.

It came sooner than you expected.

He swung wide again, his arm sweeping out in a broad arc that left his side exposed. You stepped in, driving your hammer into the joint of his leg. The impact sent a jolt up your arms, and his armor buckled under the force. He staggered, a snarl tearing from his vocalizer as he struggled to stay upright.

“You’ll regret that,” he spat, his optics wild with fury.

Once again, you didn’t respond. You didn’t need to.

He lunged again, his movements growing sloppier with each passing moment. His rage was blinding him, clouding his judgment. He was making mistakes, and you were ready to exploit them.

You darted around him, landing a blow on his shoulder joint. He cursed, the sound raw and guttural, as his arm dropped, sparking at the connection. His frame trembled with the effort of staying upright, his vents rattling like loose machinery.

“Fight me!” he roared, his voice cracking in frustration. “Stop running and fight me!”

You held your ground, your optics steady as you watched him. “I don’t need to fight you,” you said, your tone calm, almost detached. “You’re beating yourself.”

The words struck him like a physical blow. He froze, his optics wide with disbelief, before the rage returned in full force. He charged blindly, his movements a chaotic blur of desperation and fury.

You stepped aside, his momentum carrying him past you. Then, with one final swing, you brought your hammer down on his remaining shoulder joint.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground, his frame buckling under the weight of his arrogance. He lay there, his vents sputtering, his optics dimming as he struggled to lift himself.

You stood over him, your stance steady, your frame casting a shadow over his.

He looked up at you, his optics burning with hatred and humiliation.

“Who,” you said, your voice low, broken by your tired breaths between syllables, “are you supposed to be again?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then, like a thunderclap, the crowd erupted. Their cheers and jeers mingled in a cacophony that reverberated through the arena walls, their voices rising in a frenzy. Some shouted your name; others hurled insults at the fallen gladiator. The noise was deafening, but you let it wash over you, standing tall as their energy rippled through the air.

Their way of letting you know: That was an excellent match.

You allowed yourself a glance upward toward the tiered stands. The Overseers’ box loomed above, a dark shape crowded with figures seated in detached luxury. A few of them nodded, the faintest inclinations of approval that barely registered against the clinking of energon cubes and muted laughter from their table.

Most weren’t even watching.

Your optics narrowed as you saw what held their attention. A courier had delivered a tower of tiny energon cubes to their table. One of the bosses reached out, plucking a cube from the precariously stacked pile with the same carelessness as a mech selecting a datapad. Another laughed as the tower wobbled but held its balance.

Your spark twisted violently in your chest.

They weren’t watching. After all the effort, after the pain and adrenaline, the gamble of your life against another’s... you weren’t even worth their attention.

A tower of energon cubes was upstaging you.

A surge of fury swelled in your core, hot and all-consuming. You acted before you could think, your frame moving on instinct alone. With a sharp pull, you wrenched a shoulder plate free from your defeated opponent’s armor, the battered piece of metal groaning as it came loose in your servo.

Then, you hurled the plating across the arena. It sliced through the air, the momentum carrying it in a deadly arc straight toward the Overseers’ box.

The piece struck the energon tower dead-center.

The cubes tumbled spectacularly, scattering across their table and clattering to the floor. Shouts of alarm erupted as some of the bosses scrambled back, some leaping from their seats as the impact sent their delicate drinks and datapads spilling across their laps.

The crowd gasped, the collective intake of air almost louder than their earlier cheers. A shocked silence fell over the pit, stretching taut and electric as every optic turned to you.

For a moment, you simply stood there, your plating heaving as the heat of your anger coursed through you. Then, you inclined the upper part of your frame—just a fraction, the gesture somewhere between mockery and defiance. Your optics locked onto the Overseers as if daring them to look away again.

When you finally turned, you saw that the arena gates had opened at some point, the path to the exit yawning before you. You walked toward it without hesitation, without awaiting dismissal, your pedsteps echoing in the stunned silence that followed you.

Behind you, the crowd erupted louder than before, their voices carrying an amalgamation of shock, awe, and delight. They weren’t just watching now—they were riveted.

An excellent match, indeed.

But as you crossed the threshold into the dim corridors beyond the pit, the noise faded into the distance, and you could feel the weight of the Overseers’ glares pressing against your back. For the first time, you were sure they were paying attention.

Good. Let them.

[a-wolfs-bad-moon-rising]

Are you there L.T.?

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Student!Reader

(Finals are coming up and I think nothing more than fluffy Ghost would help more than anything.)

(Fluffy fluff from the big man himself)

My eyes crack open and I stare up at my ceiling. Daylight floods in through my windows illuminating the room. I hear the soft hum of my heater trying to keep my apartment warm in contrast to the cold wind bustling outside.

I sit up on my elbows and blink bleary-eyed, scanning the room. It feels like I hadn't slept at all. I just wanted to take a nap. I haven't been sleeping well at night because it's exam week and I'm beyond stressed. I nibble my nail as the anxiety sits in and I reach for my phone. I pray that more time as past since I laid down for a nap.

The cushions under my legs sink in as I lean forward. I pick up my phone and tap the screen. I blink a few times before registering that I had only been asleep 10 minutes.

With a groan I toss my phone to the side and put my face in my hands. I squeeze my scalp, my fingers closing around strands of my hair and I breathe shakily.

I can't believe how much the stress is getting me. I will myself not to cry and an idea pops into my head. Maybe there's someone who could provide moral support. I look at my phone a moment before picking it up. I tap on a familiar app and scroll through. He may not even be on leave. He may be deployed somewhere. He almost might not care to talk his old teammate off the edge during something as trivial as exams.

But he was always a good guy. Someone I looked up too who provided comfort when I needed it. Worth a shot. Who is it? My old Lieutenant. Simon "Ghost" Riley.

I tap on his contact and send a message.

LT?

I wait a few moments aching for a reply before I realize it probably won't come. I get up and with a pop of my joints I head to my shower.

Behind the bathroom door, I open a closet and pull out a fluffy towel. I set it on the counter before picking through my closet for a change of clothes. I turn the knobs in my shower. A few squeaks and the water flows through the shower head. The water was cold at first, the temperature picking up a few minutes later. I watch the steam rise and I undress getting under the spray.

I spend a good amount of time decompressing and allowing the water to soothe my body. I had just lathered myself up with soap when I hear a ping from my phone. Almost breaking my neck jumping out of the shower, I haphazardly dry my hands off before picking up my phone and tapping the screen.

I smile seeing the ghost icon. Suds slide their way down my body but I pay no mind as I open the text

(Y/N).

Always a man of a few words.

Long time no see. Are you in the area by chance?

I am for now. What's on your mind?

I'm struggling with finals and the stress is getting to me. Can't sleep, any ideas?

You've been on countless missions with 141 and finals got your nerves going?

I freeze and sheepishly reply.

Yeah.....

I had left the military after my contract ended. I kept close contact with the other members. I'm particularly close with Soap. Price was always fatherly and Ghost, I leaned on him a lot inside and outside the military.

Want me to come by?

I smile and type out my response before I finish my shower.

I'd like that it'd be nice to catch up!

Once I finish cleaning, I towel off and get dressed. It'll take Ghost about half an hour to get to my apartment so I settle on making a snack as I wait for him.

A knock at my door has me rushing to open it. Standing there is Ghost. I'll be honest it took me a bit to get used to his face without the mask.

"LT!" I exclaim a little to enthusiastic.

He nods at me with a ghost (see what I did there?) of a smile.

"(Y/N)"

I smile and open my arms. He awkwardly does the same and I'm just happy he's indulging me. I lay against his chest and give him a squeeze. His smile subconsciously gets bigger and he holds me back.

I let him into my apartment and he looks around.

"So finals gettin ya frazzled?"

"Yeah.....I thought after the military nothing would stress me out but this....civilian life is worse."

"Ain't that the fuckin truth."

"I just can't wrap my head around this." I gesture to my textbook. "How the hell am I supposed to know the answer to....this?"

I show him a question in my book. His eyes barely scan it before he gives me an answer. I deadpan before looking it up.

"You did not fucking know that." He chuckles and leans towards me.

"Give me another." He says with a cocky grind. We go back and forth and he irritatingly gets ALL OF THEM. He even caught on when I was bullshitting and flicked me in the forehead.

"Ow!" I yelp

"Don't act like a brat jus because yer strugglin." He says simply. I grumble and rub my head as he laughs.

"Alright I'll help ya siddown." He says.

"No LT I can't take another second if studying."

"I said sit." I blush and comply sitting next to him as he picks up my book. I groan and he shoots me a look.

He goes back and forth with me explaining problems and helping me figure them out. Towards the end I finally start to get the hang of it. I answer the last question, the one that gave me the most trouble.

"Are you sure?" His unreadable eyes pierce me and I stress. I squeeze my hands and look at him.

"I'm sure." He looks at me blankly and I start to sweat.

"That's right." He says. I breathe a sigh of relief and fall against my cushions.

"Thank GOD!" Ghost chuckles at my enthusiasm.

"Atta girl I knew ya could do it." He says and I flush.

"Thanks LT you always did make things easier on me."

"Ah that was all you love. Jus needed a little help is all." He says and I blush.

He stands up, his massive frame towering over me and stretches.

"Well let me take ya out and we can get some dinner."

"Really?"

"Sure let's go. Don't tell Johnny, damn bastard always tryin to get a free meal out o me."

I giggle at the mention of Soap and I grab my jacket and gloves go layer up. I pull my boots on and brave the cold. I look at him and in confirmation. He opens my door and let's me out shutting it behind us. I lock my door and we start walking down the street.

We banter for a few minutes catching up on what the rest of the crew is doing. A snowflake melts on my neck and I shiver. Without a word Ghost takes off his scarf and wraps it around my neck. His hands brushing my hair and shoulders. Thank God the cold made my cheeks rosy already. We get to a bar and he opens the door for me. I stamp my feet out and we sit at the bar.

"What'll ya have?" He asks me. I give him my drink order and he orders for me. I sit next to him happily.

"When's your exam?" He asks me. I sigh.

"Tomorrow." I say. He nods.

"You'll be jus fine love." He gives me one of his rare Ghost smiles. We order food and keep talking about the good old days and how things are now. I realize how homesick I've been for the 141. I'm stuffing a French fry in my mouth when I hear a loud voice.

"Blood 'ell." Ghost sighs and I smile knowing what's got his nerves. I swivel in my chair and look at beautiful blue eyes. The Scotsman smiles at me.

"Soap!" I exclaim and hop off my chair. I jump up and hug him and he holds me back.

"Hey there lass. How ya been?" He asks me and I nuzzle his chest.

"Good Soap! I missed you!" He smiles and picks me up, a deep laugh rumbling from his chest.

"I missed ya too lass. What're you and the missus doin ere?"

I giggle

"He was helping me study for my exam tomorrow." Soap feigns hurt and looks at me.

"Oi why didn ya ask me fer help?. Instead ya ask our tightass oer there?" He says. I laugh and Ghost pipes up.

"Johnny you're a bloody sod." He says. Soap smiles at him and sits down.

"I am not go on quiz me. I'll be I get more right then you."

After a humbling experience, Soap settles to joking around with us and sharing my food. We watch the rugby game on the television and go back and forth talking. I sit happily between the two men and feel content being around two familiar people.

"Thank you guys. This has really helped."

"Always lassie."

"Anything for ya love."

Later on that night they walk me home. I walk in between them and the follow me all the way to my door. I undo the scarf Ghost gave me and hand it to him. Soap snatches it and wraps it stupidly around his head. Ghost shoots him a death glare but doesn't bother taking it back. Soap smiles cheerily at him.

He opens his arms to me and I hug the Scotsman tightly.

"Goodnight Soap. Thanks for being here."

"Always lass, treasure seein ya." He kisses my hand and I blush. I turn to Ghost. He carefully gives me a hug and Soap smirks at him.

"G'night love. Good luck on your exam t'morrow. You'll be jus fine."

I smile and let him go.

"Thanks LT."

They let me go inside and I crawl under my warm covers. I lay sleepily against my pillows and relax. I feel more content than I had in a while and I gently sleep.

The next morning I stand in front of my classroom. I grip the straps to my backpack tightly and shift from foot to foot. I try and calm my nerves. I was never the best test taker. I go to take a step when my phone goes off a bunch of times. Vibrations felt through my pocket as I get bombarded with messages. Wondering what the hell is up I open my screen and my heart melts. It's a group chat from the 141.

(Soap): Oi. Everyone wish (Y/N) good luck on her exam today. Not that the lass has to worry her pretty little head

(Price): Good luck love. You were an amazing soldier, you got this.

(Price): Get back to work Soap.

(Gaz): Ayeooo (Y/N) has finals? Knock em dead sweetheart!!! 🫶

(Konig): Gut luck Liebling

(Keegan): Showtime (Y/N) we got your back

(Roach): Good luck!

(Ghost): Good luck soldier.

I read the messages happily soon the chat turning on Soap and instead berating him. I giggle.

(Y/N): Thank you guys! I'll do you proud.

(Keegan): We know you will sweetheart. Soap was that you I saw walk by in that stupid scarf?

(Soap): Why yes it was

(Ghost): it's not stupid

(Price): I didn't know we were all jerkin off today. Let the girl take her test and get the fuck back to work.

(Soap): Aye sir

(Ghost): Roger

(Keegan): On it Capn

(Konig): I will get back to it

(Roach): I wasn't a part of this.

I laugh at the messages as they cease. My phone vibrates one more time and it's a separate message from Ghost.

(Ghost): Stop stressing. You've always been a bad test taker but you're more than capable. Kick ass today.

(Ghost): I'm proud of you

My heart melts at his words and I beam. He was always a man of few words but this meant the world. I take a breath and head into my class to take the final. My mood and confidence boosted knowing I have a whole army behind me.

~~~~~

(Soap): Wow I like it a lot!

(Wolf): Thanks me too!

(Soap): I like how you shamlessly added me in there.

(Wolf): *blushing* Soap you're basically my husband at this point of course I'm going to.

(Soap): *Rolls eyes* Shameless

(Ghost): You procrastinated studying to WRITE about studying?

(Wolf): Hell yeah I did. And it worked.

(Ghost): That makes no sense.

(Wolf): Yes it does shush.

(Soap): Lass no it doesn't.

(Wolf): *pouting*

(Ghost): Get the 'ell over ere and study!

(Wolf): B-but!

(Ghost): NOW!

[the20thangel]

The Emperor and His Lady Chapter 8 (Finale)

Summary: Arabella and Geta flee from the Chaos that Macrinus and Caracalla placed in Rome. Lucius fights for the dream that is Rome, and new beginnings blossom.

Word Count: 4K

Tags: violence, angst, and comfort.

Masterlist

Taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life @justnobodynothingmore

Arabella placed herself before Geta, “Uncle, please, We seek refuge…” 

Arabella’s uncle, the eldest of the two brothers, never had the chance to marry. So, he used his brother’s children to gain control of the family. Arabella was their last chance for glory; he would not give up easily. 

“My dear, you are confused… come, there will be an emperor at the end of the day, Caracalla or Lucius… they will need an empress, and you…” 

Growling, Geta pressed Arabella to his body, “Choose your next words carefully; I can still find ways to get rid of you!” 

Arabella watched as her uncle staggered back before forming a weak smirk: “With what army? I can yell and have Caracalla arrest you or wait until Lucius takes back Rome, and you will still lose Geta. Come, Arabella. You have done wonderful with him, but it’s time to move on.”

“No….” she protested, walking away from Geta. She glared at her uncle. 

“No… what nonsense are you speaking, stupid girl? I said, come.” commanded her uncle. 

Tired of all the stress from the day and tired of being used for men’s gain, Arabella’s face darkened, “I said NO! I am done being used as a pawn for your and my father’s gain. I have always done everything you commanded of me since I was 11 years old. You pushed so much to become Geta’s empress; what did you expect that I do not love him? I will not leave him. I love him and our child, who is growing in me. Caracalla nor Lucius would let me keep my babe, and I would rather die than lose another son. So go ahead, try to force me away from Geta, but you will only have a corpse to use or a girl so damaged she will be useless to you. I will make sure I cannot conceive another child if you force me. I want to live peacefully with the man I love and my child. So what will it be? Uncle, choose now, and I will make my choice.” 

Geta and her uncle froze their blood cold at Arabella’s words. Geta’s face hardened as he placed his hands on his lover’s stomach, glaring at her uncle. In contrast, Arabella’s uncle could only stare. All for naught, he thought, exhaling as he backed down. 

Arabella and Geta watched as her uncle's shoulders dropped. Shaking his head, he made eye contact with Geta as he spoke, “You would have made a wonderful, kind but fearsome empress; such a shame you never were made one.” 

Geta gulped, feeling the guilt returning to him; her uncle was correct. His Arabella would have been the best empress, but he was too selfish to make her one. After a beat, Arabella and Geta could finally breathe as Arabella's uncle led the two lovers to a Villa that belonged to her family—one that was away from the main areas of Rome but still close. 

Once they had arrived, Arabella’s uncle said they should relax while he returned to the palace. An emergency Senate meeting was to occur; he would return with news after the meeting. Leaving the two on their own, Arabella sighed, rubbing her belly as she calmed herself, hoping all the stress would not take a toll on her or her child. Turning, she watched Geta sit by the hearth, staring at the fire that the servants quickly lighted. 

“Geta… my love? What bothers you?” she whispered as she knelt before him, taking his hands into hers. 

Geta took a moment before turning to stare at her, “Your uncle is right. You have been a wonderful empress… I… I was too paranoid to allow it… I was too jealous; I wanted you for myself…Would it have changed what is happening now if you were my empress?”

Shaking her head, Arabella sat on his lap, cradling his face as she spoke, “It is not good to dwell on the past or what could have been. Hush, my love, take comfort that we are alive, the three of us, and take comfort that I will never… never leave you.”  

Leaning down, Arabella kissed Geta, taking his arms and wrapping them around her. Geta deepened the kiss, pressing her body to his as they comforted each other from the hectic and terrifying night. The two stayed awake for another hour to see if any news came, but once they heard nothing, they decided to retire for the night. 

The following day, Arabella’s uncle returned with a haunted look. As she led her uncle to the dining area, she watched in suspense as he placed his head in his hands. 

“Uncle… what has happened?” she asked, watching Geta enter the room and sit beside her. 

“Caracalla… he… he placed two new senators to his consul… his monkey Dundus and the second Macrinus. He gave the throne to Macrinus.” Her uncle explained, closing his eyes in disbelief. 

Arabella and Geta inhaled sharply at the news, realizing that Macrinus used both Geta and Caracalla to get to the throne. 

As her uncle raised his sight, he gave her a look, telling her there was more. Arabella gave a worried brow as she silently urged her uncle to speak. 

“Your father…he has been sentenced to be killed along with the senators who conspired to usurp Geta and Caracalla. They will be killed along with former empress Lucilla,” he spoke, massaging his brow. 

Arabella softly gasped, “But he wasn’t part of the coup… why would he be sentenced.” 

Her uncle smiled contemptuously, “He denied your hand in marriage to Caracalla. He also denied knowing your whereabouts. Macrinus convinced Caracalla to kill him, saying that your father was deliberately offending him. I’m sorry, my girl, I could not save him.”  

Arabella sniffed, having lost both fathers in her life in less than 24 hours. As Geta placed a soothing hand on hers, she proudly spoke, “My father was a servant to Rome, and he will die knowing what he did was for the betterment of Rome.” 

Arabella’s uncle agreed before stating he needed to leave for the Colosseum, promising the pair that he would return after the events. 

At the Colosseum, the crowd was anxious, not knowing who or what the cause of the games was for that day. The Senators shifted as many of their own were at stake, including the former empress. They knew if they killed the empress, Rome would eat them alive; they could only hope the gods were merciful. 

As Caracalla walked down, he noticed his people cringe before him. They looked at him in disgust or fear, and he wanted to weep. He always had his brother to protect him from the wolves. Now his brother was gone… and he was alone, with no one to defend him, and Caracalla thought, “I made a mistake…”. Macrinus, seeing the hesitation, gently pushed the emperor into his throne. 

The Gates opened, and the people gasped in outrage as they saw a cart of senators walking out with their beloved Empress Lucilla standing at the top. 

“Lucilla! Gods have mercy on you, empress!” 

“Empress Lucilla, she is innocent!” 

“Release her! Release the empress!” 

Caracalla whimpered, hearing his people shouting in outrage. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. 

Marcella looked at the royal box, smirking as Macrinus, a fool, looked like he already had won; little did he know. As the plan started, Lucius came out fighting the guards one by one, making sure to stall to give the impression he was desperate to save his mother; as he reached the top, Lucius again asked Marcella if she wanted him to save her. 

“No, my emperor, I need to die. We need the people of Rome to fight against Macrinus and Cara-” Marcella gasped as an arrow shot through her chest. 

“NO!” shouted Lucius, being caught unprepared as he turned to glare at Macrinus.

As Macrinus lowered his bow, he relished at the chaos ensuing, the people screaming and rioting as the Senators ran away. Leaning towards the young emperor, Macrinus threw his arms around Caracalla’s shoulders. 

“Well done, my imperator. You have won, but unfortunately, it's time you step down. Not to worry, Rome will be in good hands, my hands.” He sneered as he took a pin out and stabbed Caracalla. 

As Caracalla shouted in pain, he felt blood gushing out his ear as his vision began to blur. Feeling coldness roam over him, Caracalla thought of his brother, his protector. He regretted killing his brother… for Geta truly did love him. Then his mind to Arabella, sweet and beautiful Arabella. Caracalla knew his love for her was not romantic but of a brother and sister. His problem with her was that he was jealous that Geta and she were in love, leaving him behind. He had no one like they had each other. He felt regret for tormenting her all those years. He wished he could have been kinder. Finally, as Caracalla left the realm of the living, a riverboat greeted him. Terrified, Caracalla looked around when he heard someone calling for him. Seeing at a distance, he saw a woman he recognized as his mother. 

“Caracalla, come, my sweet boy!” shouted his mother. 

Grinning, the young emperor walked up to the boat and waved to his mother as he crossed the river Styx. 

Macrnius smirked at the dead emperor, staring at the floor. He saw Luicus’ glare and decided he needed to leave. Lucius, seeing Macrinus running, began to pursue the man. He would not leave Rome alive. 

At the outskirts of Rome came Lucilla, leading a horde of Roman soldiers waiting to meet their enemy. At a distance, she saw two horses coming towards them and another group of soldiers. Gasping, she saw Lucius jump from his horse, tackling Macrinus to the ground, and the two men began sparing. As Lucius tripped into the river, he held his breath and reached for his dagger. Macrinus blindly stabbed him, trying to pierce through the armor. Seeing an opening, Lucius shouted as he rushed up from the water, slicing Macrinus through his stomach. Breathing heavily, he watched as Macrinus slowly sank to the river's bottom. 

As Lucilla and Lucius took back the throne and ensured the people of Rome were calm and safe, they began to assess the damage in the Palace. Lucius, noticing his mother searching through Emperor Geta’s chambers, the gardens, and, lastly, another chamber, finally asked her what or whom she was looking for. 

“A maiden named Arabella… was my companion for many years. I grew to love her as a daughter. She was with Geta… before he was killed. Senator!” Lucilla ended shouting, seeing Arabella’s uncle walking. 

“My empress, Imperator, what can I do for you.” bowed the Senator. 

Lucius squirmed, not being used to being greeted as a royal for many years, and answered for his mother. 

“A girl, Arabella. My mother is wondering if you have seen her. " Lucius pondered, growing nervous, seeing the Senator's remorseful look. 

“I know not what happened to my dear niece. She was with Geta when Caracalla killed his brother. I fear... I fear the rumors are true; my niece threw herself to her death rather than becoming Caracalla’s empress. I am so sorry, Empress Lucilla. I knew how much she meant to you.” Arabella’s uncle lied, bowing as Lucilla began weeping for her little girl. 

“Thank you, senator. I am sorry for your loss,” consoled Lucius, who found it strange that the Senator was not distraught like his mother. 

Six months passed, and Rome began healing from the injustices she suffered. The people were healing and beginning to thrive. Lucilla, although still grieving the loss of her daughter and husband, provided excellent support for Lucius in ruling Rome. To rejoice, The Senate decided to throw gladiator games to celebrate the six-month mark of Emperor Lucius’s reign. Although Lucius was against it at first, he was later convinced by his mother that it would be a good idea. 

As the two walked to see the gladiators, Lucilla noticed Arabella’s uncle bringing supplies to a specific group of men. Knowing that he was never a Senator who paid interest in the gladiators or had any military knowledge, she walked towards him curious. As she walked closer, she heard the conversation that made her freeze. 

“How is my lady, Senator? I bet her belly must be huge by now! And Gano? How is he fairing?” 

“My niece is thriving through her pregnancy while her husband panics about everything; it is quite charming to see, " the senator laughed. His laugh, however, was cut short once he noticed Lucilla. 

“Senator, six months ago, you told me Arabella killed herself; I am now shocked to hear not only is she married, she is expecting her first child,” questioned Lucilla, growing upset with her surrogate daughter’s uncle. 

As the Senator gulped, he nervously tried to deny it, but Lucilla would not be deceived again. 

“You will bring her to me; I wish to see my girl healthy with my own eyes,” Lucilla commanded, walking away from the Senator. 

At a nearby Villa,  Arabella walked towards her husband carrying a refreshing drink. Rising from his papers, Geta smiled as he greeted his wife. 

“Wife, I am sure I heard the healer tell you not to be on your feet so often," he asked his wife, kissing her lips quickly and taking the drink from her hands. 

“Walking to my husband does not count, Geta. My back starts aching after laying down so much.” Lightly complained Arabella, rubbing her round belly as she pouted. 

Geta grinned, placing his hand on Arabella’s, his smile growing as he felt his son kick against his hand. 

As the two kissed, a servant girl told them the lady’s uncle had urgent business to speak with them. The two separated, sharing a confused look as they greeted the visitor. 

“Uncle, you were just here? Has something happened?” questioned Arabella, allowing Geta to lead her to sit down. 

As her uncle sat beside her, he grabbed her hands, “Ara…Empress Lucilla knows you are alive. She has commanded me to take you to the palace. I’m sorry, niece, but I can’t go against the empress.” 

Arabella's brows rose in shock. She had hoped that Lucilla never found out about her whereabouts. Looking towards Geta, she saw her husband furrow his brows in confusion.

“Why does Empress Lucilla want to see Arabella? Does she want to marry her to Lucius,” growled Geta, jealousy blooming in his chest. 

Arabella held a hand to her husband’s chest, hoping to calm him from his anger.

Arabella’s uncle shook his head, “No, Emperor Lucius is still adamant about not taking a wife. The empress wishes to see you healthy with her own eyes. She has missed you so much, dear girl. Please pay a quick visit to ease her and then return to your life here.” 

Nodding, Arabella agreed to visit her lady; unfortunately, Geta was still paranoid about the reason for the visit.

Geta grunted, grabbing Arabella’s hand as he commanded, “I will go with you.” 

“Geta, you are still wanted in Rome. I am not risking my husband getting arrested by the emperor; stay here, " Arabella countered, annoyed that her husband was trying to be difficult. 

“I wasn’t asking Ara… I’m going. I don’t believe the emperor just wants you to visit.” argued Get, narrowing his eyes. 

Like times before, the Lady and her Husband continue their battle through their eyes, each equally stubborn trying to win against each other. 

Arabella’s uncle chuckled, having gotten used to the young lovers' antics. “Niece, you know him better than anyone. You know he will not stay behind. He will go as he is known outside, Gano, and we will dye his hair dark brown. Hopefully, the emperor doesn’t remember how much Geta looked like, and we can quickly visit and  let it be done.” 

Arabella sighed in defeat, sending a quick glare as her husband smirked, feeling like he had won the argument. 

As the three walked through the white floors of the palace, Arabella and Geta could not help but feel nervous about their visit to the emperor and his mother. Geta looked around and saw how much his former home had changed in under six months. Nothing of him and his brother were shown or left in the palace. Sighing, he walked behind his wife somberly, missing his twin. As husband and wife entered the feast chamber, Lucilla gasped in delight, seeing her girl not only healthy but practically glowing from her pregnancy. Standing from her spot next to Lucius, Empress Lucilla greeted her daughter. 

“Arabella! Oh, my sweet girl, I am so happy you are well and with a child. You are glowing!” exclaimed the empress mother, gathering Arabella into her arms. 

As Geta stood back with his hood covering his face, he stood nervously, feeling paranoid at being close to Lucilla and Lucius. Emperor Lucius smiled at his mother, who was reuniting with his surrogate sister. Turning to face his sister’s husband, he could not help but narrow his eyes and recognize the man. 

“Empress, it's good to see you again.” greeted Arabella, bowing only to be raised by Lucilla, who waved her off.

“None of that bowing, especially with you so heavily pregnant. How far along are you?”  questioned Lucilla as she toyed with Arabella’s curls. 

Smiling, Arabella rubbed her ever-growing bump, “In a week, I will be seven months. I’m counting the days until my child rests in my arms instead of kicking every second of the day, more if he feels his father's hands on my stomach.” 

Laughing, Lucilla took a turn to rub the young lady’s bump, “Lucius was the same way; nothing could soothe him until a lullaby was sung.” 

As Lucilla turned her sight behind Arabella, she noticed the man who she assumed was Arabella’s husband. 

“Sweet girl, why don’t you introduce me to your husband? I assume he is the father, yes?” Lucilla requested, growing confused as the young man twitched and lowered his head to hide his face. 

Arabella, growing nervous, gulped as she stared at her husband. Opening her mouth, she felt tongue-tied, “Yes, this is my husband-” 

“Hello, Geta… I’m surprised you would be willing to step back into the palace,” interrupted Lucius, who was walking towards his mother and sister while glaring at the young man. 

Geta raised his eyes, glaring back at Lucius; it allowed his hood to fall off. Lucilla gasped as her face paled like she saw a ghost, turning to Arabella, who furrowed her brows with worry. Arabella placed herself between the emperor and her husband, not wanting a fight to ensue. Geta took the opportunity to grasp his wife’s waist and pull her body to press against his. 

“Hano… ah, I forgot it’s Emperor Lucius, now is it?” taunted Geta, smirking when Lucius growled in annoyance. 

“Geta, enough,” commanded Arabella, shaking her head at her husband’s antics. 

Lucilla and Lucius were both surprised to see how easily Geta backed down. Lucilla, wanting an answer, turned to Arabella.

“How… everyone in the Senate said they saw his head… Caracalla and Macrinus showed it off?” questioned Lucilla. 

Arabella sighed as she began her tale of how they evaded being killed by Caracalla and their current life situations. After the lady’s tale, Lucius shook his head in disbelief before turning to the former emperor. 

“You know, in any other situation, I would have had the guards arrest you against the crimes you did on my mother and stepfather, but I grew to care for Arabella because of my mother. I know how much my sister has sacrificed for Rome and my mother. Consider yourself lucky, Geta, that I am a forgiving man. I will pardon you injustices…” started Lucius. 

“Thank you, Imperator,” praised Arabella, feeling grateful. 

“I have two conditions for his pardon…” continued Lucius, watching as Geta and Arabella nodded. 

“One, Arabella, do not call me imperator. We are siblings; call me brother. Second, Geta is banned from ever joining the Senate. I will be gracious and not place the ban on any nieces or nephews, but you can never step foot in the Senate. Do I make myself clear?” said Lucius. 

Arabella and Geta nodded, feeling grateful; while Geta did not mind being banned from the Senate, it was never his passion. As the couple left, Lucilla asked Arabella to visit often and to keep her updated on her pregnancy, expressing her desire to be there during Arabella's birthing.  Agreeing, the couple left for their Villa peacefully, excited and nervous for the future. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Screaming could be heard from a room as Arabella pushed with all her might. Collapsing on her bed, Arabella tiredly exhaled as she tried to catch her breath, preparing for another contraction to hit. Lucilla, holding her daughter’s hand, soothed the tired mother. 

“There, my sweet girl, you are doing so well. Just a few more, Ara… you baby wants to greet you,” she consoled the young woman. 

Nodding, Arabella took a deep breath as she pushed all her might, feeling sweat fall down her forehead. Taking another breath and pushing again, wishing her child could just leave her body. 

Outside the room, in the living area, paced Geta, growing nervous with each scream coming from his wife. Lucius watched in amusement as he watched a man feared by Rome be reduced to a nervous wreck. Turning to the floor, he ruffled a tuff of ginger-colored hair. Gaius, who just turned four, raised his head from his toy soldier to playfully glare at his uncle. Lucius chuckled. His nephew looked so much like his father, but that glare was all his mother.  A smaller wail joined the air as another yell broke out, making Lucius rise and Geta freeze. 

Lucilla came out with a bright smile: "A beautiful little girl with the same face as her mother and her father’s fiery locks.” 

As the men sighed, their relief was short-lived. They heard Arabella let out another yell, with the midwife exclaiming that another babe was on their way. Lucilla turned and quickly returned inside to help the young mother. Fifteen painfully long minutes passed before a little boy let his arrival know with a loud shout. 

“He has a pair of lungs,” commented Lucius, watching as Geta held his daughter, watching her as if she were the world's most precious jewel. 

Arabella smiled as she caressed her youngest son. They were perfect. While her daughter followed suit like her older brother in having fiery locks. Her youngest held brown curls much like her own. Gaius was in his grandmother’s arms, looking at his young siblings. Scrunching his nose, he sniffed and looked at his mother: " They are too pink.” 

Laughing, Lucilla kissed the young boy, “They just came out of your mother. You were as pink as them when you were born, my love. They will soon change after a few days.” 

Lucius grinned as he kissed Arabella’s forehead, “How are you, sister?” 

“Tired, but I would do it all over again for them….that does not mean you can touch me,  Geta. You will wait another four years before you touch me.” Commented Arabella, playfully glaring at her husband once she saw his mischievous smile. 

“Do they have names?” questioned Lucilla. 

Arabella nodded, “Yes, our daughter will be named Carmella Julia, and our son… he is Marcus Maximus…” 

As the twins' names were spoken, both children opened their eyes to stare at their parents. Geta’s throat dried up as tears welled in his eyes. His daughter had the brightest blue eyes, just like Caracalla. Kissing his daughter, Geta nuzzled her tuff of ginger hair. 

Lucius and Lucilla smiled tearfully as they stared at the youngest of the three. Soon, the Emperor and Empress left the family of five. As the three youngest slept soundly, Geta scooped up his wife and kissed her neck. Arabella giggled at being tickled, returning a kiss. 

“Thank you, my love,” Geta whispered as he nuzzled his face to his wife’s neck. 

“For what, my love,” pondered Arabella, caressing her husband’s cheek. 

“For loving me, for fighting for me… for never giving up on me, on us… I truly don’t deserve you,” confessed Geta. 

Arabella smiled, cradling her husband's face; she kissed him before whispering on his lips, “I was always meant to be yours, your lady. No matter where or whichever life, I will always come to you, My Geta.”

[therootbeersprite]

TL;DR: If you have sensory issues that make it hard to brush your teeth, over the counter oral anesthesia is something that can potentially help. In the US, it's called Benzocaine, and you can get it at CVS and such, in the aisle with things like toothpaste and denture cleaner. It tastes absolutely awful, but if you can get past that, it numbs your mouth rather effectively for about 10 minutes.

Also if you can't use mouthwash, try saltwater. Make it "as salty as the sea".

* * *

Content Warning: dental negligence, dismissive attitudes from medical professionals, loss of teeth

For pretty much my whole life, I've had a lot of trouble brushing my teeth because it was so sensory bad and painful. Whenever I told dentists that it was painful, they would say something along the lines of, "Your gums are swollen because you don't brush. Do it anyways and the pain will become less." Which is just not a helpful answer at all, when it's too painful to start in the first place.

After I got my autism diagnosis, I gained a measure of self-comprehension, and access to the phrase "autism sensory issue". The first time I used it was like magic.

Not brushing my teeth for literally decades has resulted in a lot of damage, so I now meet with a periodontist. We're can't save all of my teeth, but we're trying to save as many as we can. Part of that attempt is dealing with the issue of a lack of home care, aka not brushing my teeth. The first time I met her, I used the magic phrase "autism sensory issue", and the tone of the conversation completely changed: I wasn't just being difficult! I didn't just need to try harder! There was a real obstacle that needed to be dealt with! She asked how I responded to numbing my mouth. I didn't even know that was an option! She said that it's a common thing, and it's so safe that parents routinely numb the mouths of babies who are teething.

She looked up what it's called in the US (Benzocaine) and sent me home with a directive to hunt it down, and also a super soft post-surgical toothbrush to use until proper home care happened enough to get the afore-mentioned painful swelling down.

Folks, this has been an absolute game changer for me. I'm still not brushing my teeth three times a day like she wants me to do (I also have trouble with some of those other issues listed in the above infographic, but one problem at a time!) but inconsistent brushing is better than the previous zero brushing! It's amazing to me that after so very many years of visceral avoidance, I am now able to brush my teeth! I no longer have to get over the massive mental barrier of forcing myself to do an incredibly painful sensory thing to an incredibly sensitive part of my body!

I'm not going to lie or pretend otherwise: Benzocaine tastes pretty damn awful. But for me, the bad taste is far less of a problem than brushing my teeth without it was. I did get accustomed to the taste eventually, and also got better at applying it to my gums so that less of it gets on my tongue.

* * *

One more thing: I also have problems with mouthwash. I'm allergic to mint (which makes all of this dental drama just that much more fun) and the only mouthwash that I could easily access without any mint burned far too painfully for me to be willing to get anywhere near it ever again. My problem-solving periodontist told me to instead rinse my mouth with saltwater that tastes like the sea. I personally find it to be rather soothing, a nice little reward at the end of the stressful mouth-care process.

Hygiene as an Autistic and ADHDer

A.J’s Brain

[justaticklishdeer]

Radio's Not Dead

hi. this is a bitttt more heavy than the stuff I usually post (its still a tickle fic!) but I felt like traumatizing alastor.

ler Rosie, lee alastor

TWS (there's a lot to unpack): Implied non con, panic attack, mental breakdown, arguing, light sh, that vibe. its a lot and I'm so sorry.

again, I am so terribly sorry for traumatizing him and being a bit heavy with it <3

Word count: 2k

It had been seven years. Seven years since Alastor had been heard from or seen anywhere in Pentagram City. It seemed so empty without the looming threat of a wendigo-like Overlord haunting the residents. Rosie was in her emporium, working with her clients as usual. She herself had wondered where Alastor had gone all those years. He had up and left without any words, any trace, and hint as to where he was. She sighs softly, pacing the emporium. Of course, Hell had settled down quite a bit after Alastor left.

But Rosie? She was left wondering where he had gone. All these years and not a single thing had been said to her about his whereabouts. It left her worried. She had been used to Alastor just randomly disappearing for a week or two (he supposedly had been self isolating,) but for him to go seven years without telling her? Concerning.

She snaps out of her trance-like state as a client walks up to her, asking about some of the essentials in her shop and how to use them. She walks them through the steps and watches as they wander off. After around an hour, she closes down the emporium for the night. All was quiet. She sighs, walking to prepare herself a cup of late night tea. 

Rosie sits down with her tea, quietly reading her book she had with her. A knock came to the door and she tilted her head. Nobody should’ve been here this late at night, especially after she had closed down for the night. “I’ll be there in a moment!” she calls out, setting down her things and going to the door. A disheveled, messy deer stood there. Alastor. 

‘Rosie-’ he starts. She shakes her head, walking a few steps back. ‘You–’ she cut herself off. ‘Seven years. Seven years, Alastor. And you didn’t think to come tell me? You never thought to warn me before you left for that long?” Rosie paces, her nails digging into her palm from the effort of trying not to cry. 

“Rosie, I-I couldn’t, it was sudden, I-’ Alastor tried, tears already pricking at the corners of his eyes. They burnt his eyes, making him actually start to cry. ‘Rosie! I-I didn’t mean to-to leave you, I-’ He takes a step forward, stumbling on his hooves. “Please…’ 

Rosie looks at him, somewhat angry, but also confused. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? You better have a damn good reason for leaving that long,’ she snaps at him. Through her anger and confusion, she didn’t fully notice how much Alastor was trembling. Alastor takes a step toward her, trying to grab for her hands. She steps back, not ready to accept whatever he had to say. He breaks down crying.

Rosie continues to talk. ‘Seven years! You couldn’t have left a note, or had someone tell me?” 

‘It was a deal, Rosie! I-I–my soul isn’t mine entirely anymore! I couldn’t–it was to save myself, it-’ he couldn’t get a full sentence out through frantic, panicked sobs. His body trembled and he pulled at his hair, pulling some out from how stressed he was. Alastor clings to himself, to try to cling to what sense of himself he had left. It all felt so empty, and did Rosie hate him now too?

Rosie stares at him in disbelief. ‘You sold your soul? Are you insane? You couldn’t have come to visit me first, you had to go to the hotel first?” She paces the room, her heels clicking on the floor. Alastor could be heard making another choked sob noise. ‘I couldn’t–my command–my-my order, her–she wanted–I couldn’t come first, Rosie, I–’ His cries got more frantic. ‘Please-’ 

Rosie continues. ‘You couldn’t have told your soul owner–soul owner!--to let you visit here first? I understand that you needed to go to the hotel, but you could’ve come to explain your situation to me!” she paces off into the kitchen to do something. 

As soon as she goes into the kitchen, Alastor absolutely breaks down sobbing. He clutches at his coat, his clothes, anything. He digs his claws into his palms only to feel pain from it. And somehow, it felt good. To finally have an outlet rather than just sobbing his eyes out when his soul owner abused him. No wonder he felt like shit.

“Rosie–?!’ he cries out. Trying to get her to come back, trying to get her to not leave him like everyone else did. Vox–he didn’t remember all too well. He just remembered Vox had tried to force himself onto Alastor, force himself onto him just to use him as some toy and leave. Alastor had been left broken, bruised, mentally shattered from the sheer absurdity of it all. He missed Vox in some twisted way. It was mainly the manipulation he had been put through of trying to please Vox so he would stay. 

He had done everything he could think of to please Vox. Ridiculous shows, being on television (once), writing the show scripts, laughing with him, being his lee to toy with. But then, Vox had gotten more touchy in ways he hadn’t liked. And when he spoke up, it all happened. 

He sobs harder, all his trauma seemingly coming back to him in waves. 

“Please, please, don’t leave me, you–only one I have left, please–I can't–don’t leave, please-’ Alastor sobs, frantically trying to cling to reality. He didn’t want to slip back into the hell he had already been through, he couldn’t do that again. He didn’t know he was going to go through all that. What Roo had put him through to even get his soul… He was trembling, and felt freezing. He pulled at his deer ears, clinging and digging his claws into them until he felt warm blood drip down his fingers. 

Nothing felt entirely there. He had almost forgotten Rosie was even there. ‘Please, please, don’t leave me, please–please–’ he begs, sobbing as he rocks himself. He could feel the blood still dripping down his fingers as he dug harder into his ears. ‘Please, I can’t lose you too, please, Rosie, please, please-’ Alastor clutched at his ears still. Then moved to pull at his hair again, pulling some out from the sheer panic and stress of thinking he was about to lose his closest friend, his mother figure, his platonic partner. 

‘Please…’ he whispers. 

Rosie was about to say something else, when she noticed the blood on her floor and the trembling, sobbing, broken soul on the ground. She sighs softly, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘Alastor…’ She grabs his wrists, moving his hands off his ears. ‘Don’t, please. You’re bleeding. I’m sorry for yelling.’ She kneels down to take him into her arms. Alastor hiccups, his tears slowly stopping at the familiar warmth of her holding him. ‘I-I made a deal, th-that’s why I was gone,’ he whispers through trembles and hiccups.

Rosie gently strokes his hair. She reaches over to clean the wounds on his ears gently, taking warm water and a mild soap to clean the cuts. Alastor lets it happen, using his own magic to help assist with the healing. ‘You couldn’t tell me before you left? Shh, I’m not leaving. Don’t cry,’ she reminded gently when his breath hitched at the question. 

“I-I couldn’t say anything. R–’ the name caught in his throat as he tried to say it. Right. He couldn’t mention anything about the details of the deal he had made with Roo. He switches his words. ‘M-My soul isn’t…mine, Rosie.’ Rosie nods slightly, taking in what he had been through. From the looks of his earlier breakdown, he had been through a lot for the deal to be made. ‘Honey, are you able to tell me what happened?’ a shake of the head was her answer.

Rosie makes a soft noise, acknowledging his response. ‘Okay. Is there…is there anything you want me to do to try to help you recover from it? I just want to try to help you, sweetie. Nothing harmful.’ Alastor nods meekly. She gently sets him down on a nearby armchair. ‘Tea?” she asks softly. He nods, knowing she knew how to make it to his preference. 

She grabs the tea and brings it back to him. It had calming properties, which helped him be much more relaxed. Alastor smiles up at her, genuine. She returns the smile. ‘How are you feeling, sweetheart?” 

‘Happy. Relaxed. Good.’ Alastor swings his hooves, staring at them. They needed care, considering he hadn’t been able to care for them himself due to certain events. She chuckles softly. Alastor snuggles up to her, his tail wagging slow. This was the Alastor she knew. Not the one from earlier, not the intimidating radio host persona. Her Alastor. The soft, vulnerable little fawn she had found all those years ago when he dropped down to Hell. 

The one she had gently taught the rules of Hell to, the one she had taught how to grow and become one of Hell’s overlords. And clearly, she had done a good job of it. Alastor was half asleep on her. She felt a pang of guilt at seeing the blood still on the fur of his ears. She would admit she was a bit over reactive, but when someone you loved just vanished like that without a trace and came back with no explanation? It was hard to react ‘properly.’ 

Alastor snuggled up to her more. He clung to her like a lifeline, as if terrified she’d leave at any second. ‘Please don’t leave. Or hurt me,’ he pleads quietly. Her heart nearly broke at that. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, my fawn. You know I wouldn’t ever hurt you.’ Rosie strokes his ears gently to help lull him to sleep. She could feel herself getting tired as well. Alastor nods, slowly falling asleep. Every so often, his body would jerk him back awake. As Rosie kept stroking his ears, he fell asleep. Rosie did as well.

She woke up to him wanting her attention. Something she had always adored. He nuzzles up to her with a deer-like purr. Rosie laughs softly. ‘Always wanting pets, aren’t you?’ she comments, scritching behind his ears. He giggles softly, tilting his head. ‘Still ticklish, hun?’ She scribbles gently up and down his ears. He makes a little fawn squeak noise, nodding as he trembles from giggles and tries to get away. But the other part of him told him to push into it, to finally enjoy something. It was an amazing feeling compared to the abuse Roo had put him through.

Rosie seemed to notice and sighed gently. ‘You know, you can enjoy things again. It’s alright.’ 

She scribbles up and down the sides of his neck, which had purely childish giggles coming from him. It felt so nice to have gentle touches. “Mmm! Mhmhm!’ his tail begins to wag happily. He squirms a little, but not nearly enough to get away. He bleats like a fawn as Rosie’s long nails scritch under the fur to get to the sensitive skin behind his ears. It felt so hellishly ticklish. He arched his back as his ears flicked and tried to flatten from how much it was. He giggles all too happily.

‘Rohose–Rohohosie!’ he squeaks. Alastor’s giggles were light and airy as she scribbled up and down his neck again. Rosie smiles softly, murmuring, “You just needed a way to relax, honeybuck. And this is my way of helping.’ She gives him gentle tickles, up and down his neck, fluttering fingers around his ears, running her claws up and down his arms–a place he didn’t know could bring so much comfort, but it did. 

Alastor grinned up at her, all happy as his hooves kicked lightly. He wanted her to stay around his neck and arms, so that’s what she did. As his soft, happy giggles filled the room, Rosie could only think of one thing.

She was going to help him regain his strength, to help him try to heal from all the trauma that had happened to him during those seven years. She was sure, with enough work and care and effort, it was possible.

[hackedmotionsensors]

this is personal so please don't reblog this bc I think its weird when I say personal stuff and people reblog it I feel like i shouldn't have to turn that setting on?? Lol

but...both of my parents are seniors. And neither one of them are doing very well health wise. My mom has nerve issues with her hand, diabetes and bad blood pressure, and has had multiple heart attacks, My dad had a fall and never really recovered and had some weird medical problems that we thought were strokes but they never confirmed it. He also got covid at the hospital for those problems so THANKS arizona hospitals

Anyway I get all that. And I wish i could help or be around more. But unfortunately my job (unless we get some cool changes in the agreement) require me to live in LA. I also LIKE living in LA (surprisingly with how much I hate traffic LOL)

But I always get SO STRESSED OUT during the holidays bc I visit them and I need to cross reference with my brother (but again he might not even CARE or be aware that this is happening bc...he just...kinda doesn't care when it happens and I DO see it). I need to ask him or his wife if this happens when I'm NOT here because I have a feeling it gets WORSE when I visit.

But each time I visit my mom finds a way to be a complete and utter bitch at my dad. And my dad IS frustrating. I totally get it. He's always been really frustrating but now its like...frustrating bc he does things that could endanger himself or chooses ways to not make things easier for himself out of pride or just being a senior and not wanting to admit stuff? Idk. I know its a fairly common thing. He also got phone scammed a few months back out of 7k$ and we all were like WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF. He doesn't even like paying for COFFEE or good food for himself but LIED TO THE BANK to take out the money when they were like "This sounds like a scam sir" .....SO I GET IT. TRUST ME I GET IT.

But Thanksgiving was mostly good! Last Christmas (lol) I was stressed myself bc I was out of a job for a whole year and had to prep for a con and my car was on its last legs and like I said I just...get stressed LOL Its why i always drive. If I need to bail I absolutely will. Our family has NEVER been good during holidays. Its a lot of abused and abusive people with varying levels of addictions or mental illnesses (is it ANXIETY acting up this year? Or adhd induced RAGE from being overwhelmed! Has someone had TOO MUCH WINE and decided instead of being silly that they want to FIGHT!??! WHO CAN SAY!?!? ITS ANYONE'S GUESS!!!)

And Mom was just RELENTLESS last year. ANYTHING my dad did was a problem. ANYTHING he did...EXISTING...in a place he wasn't supposed to was like...a huge slight against her and because I had the audacity to be like "Mom relax. He's not doing anything" it meant I wasn't on her side or was insulting her or SOMETHING. And it completely blew out between me and her to the point she called my sister crying to try and be like LYDIA'S BEING HORRIBLE AND HATES ME ND SHE CALLED ME A BITCH(which I didn't but i VERYYYY nearly did because she was being a bitch) and like ...my sister is YOUNGER THAN ME LMAO. So my sister texted me like "what happened??" and I told her and she was like...AH. Okay I get it. Because my mom USED to live with her too but she pitched a fit at her and decided to basically run away from living with my sister and move in with her cousin. Then she left there (which honestly seemed the most stable?) and moved in with her sister. And she hated that too.(Running theme in this family is that my aunt is an ACTUAL bitch and I've known that since she came into the bathroom one time when I was sitting on the toilet bc I ran past her on the way into the house bc i REALLY had to pee and she came INTO the bathroom to scream at me for being rude.......but anyway) And then she ended up moving back in with my dad (They aren't married its just...basically roommates LMAO)

She hated living with my brother. My mom is like me. She's basically like a beta fish. She'll just bite the shit out of anything in her tank. I used to live with her and hated it.

LOL OKAY ANYWAY LONG STORY BUT basically....it was a fairly good holiday this time in comparison. I also left after a single day lol Bc I hate thanksgiving to begin with. Not 100% related to my family. I just think the holiday is stupid and pre-gaming christmas and a huge waste of money for someone who travels bc I'm gonna see all these maniacs in three weeks anyway.

I also had a deadline so I had a really good excuse to dip. Thank god.

But bc my parents helped me last year a lot I was like Let me do something REALLY minimal and take y'all out to breakfast. And on the way there my mom is sitting in the back seat behind my dad. My dad uses a cane but she doesn't like sitting in the front anyway. But she was sitting behind him and suddenly 'THE CAR SMELLS'.

Me genuinely thinking something was wrong like maybe I left the travel jerky i bought to eat on the way open. Or maybe I randomly smelled. Its a new car but I'm so used to my old car than anything potentially a problem is a stressor. But no. It was a not subtle way of bitching about my dad. And I was like....okay whatever let it go. Dad didn't say anything so lets just ignore it. Its only another hour or so. And then we get to the restaurant we were going to. My dad and I both get eggs and I ask if she can pass the ketchup. She hands ME the ketchup no problem. Then my dad uses it and sets it on the table. Pretty normal.

This is a thing ~I~ like to do. I like to put the condiments back in the holder thingies. Its not a deal breaker but its like...just a thing. Why have another thing in the way when we can put the ketchup back. So I can't reach it so I'm like "Mom can you tuck this back into the thing" "No. I don't want germs".

I knew exactly what she was doing and was like "Just put it back. I like to put them back." "NO. Its dirty. People touch it"

By this point the vein in my forehead is already throbbing. I go FINE. ITS FINE. I know exactly who you mean. And honestly I'm sure my dad does too and is just.....getting through it. I KNOW she's trying to rile ME up. She picks like a little fly at my dad all the time and its not to get a rile out of him bc she knows he won't really do anything about it. Unless she's hoping he'll blow up eventually and die. IDK (It might not be that drastic BUT Y'NEVER KNOW!!!)

So I let it go. And then she does that thing that bullys or abusers or idk what to even call this but she's done it to me HER WHOLE LIFE. She starts trying to act cute. "Can I have a bite of your eggs Lilly <3"

me "No. I don't want germs"

And now mom is mad. Not a total blow out but I know she's pissed at that. And I don't want this to totally melt down so i offer her the eggs if she really wants but she's already in a snit. THANKFULLY!!!!!!!!!! it blows over. Probably due it it being a massive carb bomb after yesterday's carb bomb. So before we head out I'm like Can you put the ketchup back now? I wanna put the syrup back too. SHE HUFFS. GOES "FINE" and picks it up as if it was covered in dog shit by the tip of her fingers.

AND I AM SCREAMING IN MY HEAD

THAT THIS IS WORSE THAN CHILDREN. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW. And she goes back into 1) doing NOT SO SUBTLE jabs at my dad. Using old insults she's always used but not SAYING its because my dad touched it but that PEOPLE touched it. BITCH YOU TOUCHED IT FIRST AND THEN ATE YOUR FOOD. She only washed her hands before eating bc she went to the bathroom AND she never wears a mask. You give two fucks about germs.

And then she has the audacity to say to me "THATS WHAT WAITRESSES ARE FOR"

which is A HUGE FUCKING TRIGGER FOR ME BC I USED TO WORK IN SERVICE. AND SO DOES SHE. IT DOESN'T ~MATTER~ WHAT THEIR JOB DESCRIPTION IS. IT HURTS ~NO~ ~ONE~ to pick up after yourself A LITTLE. Its just putting the ketchup BACK in the FUCKING CONTAINER. ALSO. WE VISIBLY SAW HOW SWAMPED THEY WERE. Its Black Friday they were hauling ass that day and we didn't end up waiting SO long but it was definitely a wait bc of how busy it was. So you're gonna make this lady who was ONLY NICE TO US. Didn't charge me an extra coffee bc I'm a mad lass who had a latte and a black coffee lmao AND She was Latina. Was there not some....Latina togetherness!??! HELLO!??? Very Mexican't mom. (we're not Mexican lmao)

And then on the drive home god I don't even remember exactly what it was bc the blood was in my ears and I was just trying to get them home so i could leave. She said something else that was VERY POINTEDLY about my dad and called it "PEOPLE" again. Like he's not stupid cmon man.

Like just for NO REASON. NOTHING my dad did had anything to really set her off on this. She was just being MEAN to be MEAN. And she KNOWS i hate it.

When i grew up I was always a lot closer to my dad and I can empathize with that. But...idk man we just had more in common? Even if she wasn't working super hard to make ends meet and he was middle class like I GET IT.

But there's resentment and just being a fucking bitch for no reason.

And again this is not to say like Oh my dad the poor uwu old man always getting beat up wah wah wah. Bc again he does a LOT to frustrate me on like...a blood pressure exploding way. But for him its just like...why would you DO THAT. Like we were in the middle of a walk with the family (my brothers family and me and the parents) and he goes OH YEAH LYDIA I MEANT TO SAY....You owe me money for the phone. Which was so fucking embarassing like why would you SAY THAT!?!?! Like i was so frustrated and like ugh. LOL And a thing my mom gets at my dad about is she's like "I SEE SENIORS ALL THE TIME OLDER THAN YOUR DAD THAT RUN MARATHONS" or whatever nonsense. And I'm like mom YOU can't even run a marathon or do half the thing these people say but also SOME PEOPLE ARE DIFFERENT!?!?!? My dad had a pretty bad fall a while back and never really recovered from it. So its really frustrating when he CARRIES AROUND HIS CANE or chooses to not bring it with him...and he just...doesn't use it. Like literally I was like Dad you have to USE your cane to stand up and walk not just carry it around like a purse. "Its a psychological thing more than anything" *cue me bursting all the blood vessels in my brain* and my mom being like SEE!? I have to deal with this ALL THE TIME. *shakes desk* BUT YOU MAKE THINGS WORSE BY BEING A BITCH AT THE SAME TIME AGHHHHHHH

I just....genuinely wish I had normal parents and a normal holiday get together instead of dreading the end of the year that its something I HAVE to do because I genuinely love these people but the drive back my chest hurt, my head hurt, my throat hurt from ranting in my car my JAW hurt from clenching it from stress.

Like at this rate I'm gonna die before they do holy shit. And I think also because they're seniors and in bad health that I worry about them at the same time because....its not fair to either of them that they had to end up moving in together (It ends I think in march thankfully) and because they're seniors that I know...well this could be the last holiday i spend with them. So I make the effort, risk the covid and just go visit them when i can. But holy fucking shit.

lmao my mom LITERALLY just called me now like MY GODDDDDD LMAO HOW DID SHE KNOWWWWWW

[vacantgodling]

i'd like to say that this year was more of a planning year than a writing year; not to say that i didn't write; but i spent a lot more time on outlining, worldbuilding, and a new skill that i've added to the fold -- conlanging(!!). because of that, i didn't hit all the goals i made last year but tbh that's aight. without further ado tho:

TOTAL WORDS WRITTEN [january 2024-november 2024]

111,535 (as of 11/15)

once again, if this was all in one place, that would be a full novel but. speaking of full novels:

2024 GOAL STATUS

❌ reach 150k words written overall ✔️ finish cage like it’s GOING to happen i will it ❌ finish the first draft of paramour!!!

so i'm only 1 for 3 and tbh i'm not that mad about it. finishing cage back in february was one of the biggest writing highlights of this year because i showed myself i could do it, i CAN finish something of novel length if i really put my mind to it.

(and yeah, i really did go and get it printed out lmao)

and more than just the accomplishment of writing 82k in one piece, it's also helped me really understand and work out what systems and processes i need to have set up prior to writing to make it work. this is why outlining has been such a huge undertaking for me this year, in varying levels of success (lmao). having a fully fleshed out outline with the literal beat by beat playout of how i want the story to go helped me TREMENDOUSLY in pushing through cage. even on chapters that were rough for me, having that outline to fallback on made it so much easier to stick to a every week one chapter system. and its something i plan to implement with my original wips too.

the only issue is, because original work inherently requires more work since there's no framework except what's in your own head... its been a bit slower for me writing wise. BUT next year i will be operating out of a desperate need for whimsey so i think i'm going to make my goals much.... less stressful than i did this year.

2024 WRITING HIGHLIGHTS

FINISHED CAGE! biggest accomplishment in my life right now tbh. seriously if you haven't and you have any interest in overwatch at all go read it and leave me nice comments while you're at it lol. technically i am working on the interlude piece between cage and its eventual sequel, schism, but that's been kinda slow going as i don't have much motivation to do it right now. first chapter of it is also up on ao3 though -> interlude - quiet

created a conlang??? in a very bizarre turn of events i have created a conlang for my wip with the working title HE WHO SMITES THE SUN (under the tag #s: ph). the language itself is called dzonime'si and if you want to see more of that process check out my #ren fights linguistics tag :)

finished the entire "first draft" of my wip betwixt thumb and forefinger--which is actually an idea that i only thought of this year so that's fun. for the uninitiated it is a gothic reimagining of twilight but with a shit ton more body horror and prochoice commentary. the reason first draft is in quotations is because it is technically a 16k word long outline that i am considering draft one. draft 2 is literally me going bullet point by bullet point and expanding the draft into something more akin to prose. i do have the first few paragraphs of draft 3 started, which is where i'm going to attempt actual prose writing for the first time. pretty much, btaf is becoming a very lengthy process but it's my first "test drive" on how this new outlining to written prose for my original projects will go. i've just gotten... distracted by other wips since then.

2025 GOALS

to be honest, i don’t know if i have many hard goals for next year. mostly because of *gestures at the state of the world right now* :))))))) it’s blatantly obvious that when things are tough, it becomes more difficult to do the things that you want to do that bring you joy. amid trying to just survive the day to day, there’s also my desires to get more involved in bothering the FUCK out of my senators, looking into ways i can be more involved locally (without burning myself out) and just generally trying to not let the state of the world get me down.

i think there’s a lot of things i want to do. i want to finish a bunch of outlines for my wips becuase i can’t tell you how REWARDING it’s been to be able to fully just go back and reread btaf’s outline whenever i like (and have the AMAZING multi leave comments on it like that’s actually another huge highlight of this year thank u friend 💛) and get excited about telling this story all over again. it motivates me to keep doing it! i'd also love to finish btaf's draft 2, maybe try and finish interlude - quiet etc. but—long story short. i don’t think i’m going to put myself on for any particular goals. next year is going to be about celebrating wins in any and every capacity. so all i wanna do is give myself wins.

looking forward to seeing y’all next year, crying about our ocs as usual

💛 ren 💛

[gingersnapwolves]

Thanksgiving was a rousing success and I declare myself the winner of the contest I was having with my brother. Highlights include:

It turned out to be 16 people, not 19, partly because I can't count and it was originally 17, and then my dad finked out because he's a grouch

My brother was supposed to come early with folding tables and chairs but arrived the same time as basically everybody else and right before most of the food finished cooking so we barely had time to set up and my wife didn't get to make centerpieces which was a great disappointment to her

My brother was also supposed to bring two dishes, one of which was his special stuffing because he HAS to have stuffing made with butter, which he brought, and one of which was maple-ginger sauce for the carrots, which he did not bring, nor did he bother to tell anyone he didn't have time to make, so we had several pounds of plain, steamed carrots which nobody ate lmao

Many people told us they loved what we'd done with our house

Many people commented on how calm and well-behaved our dog is

Two of our cats hid but the third was out here being an attention-seeking slut getting pets from everybody

My cousin thanked me repeatedly for how many gluten-free options we had

The food got absolutely demolished. It was a 26 pound turkey and there's hardly any leftovers. My dairy-free low-sodium mashed potatoes were gone. My nephew ate four of my homemade rolls (also dairy free and low sodium). I made two different kinds of roasted Brussels Sprouts so I could have traditional with bacon and low-sodium lemon-thyme Brussels Sprouts and there's barely any left of either. What did last went into many Tupperwares because people wanted to take our leftovers home. My cousin took home almost half the gluten-free apple crisp.

As I was moderately freaking about all the food finishing just as people were arriving and trying to set up tables, my brother said, "And you wondered why I'm always so stressed on Thanksgiving!" which a) No I didn't, b) I'm doing twice as much as you, c) in one third the space, d) for the first time. So as usual my brother is a dipshit.

Everyone said they'd had a great time and the food was really good and thanked me for hosting.

In conclusion ...

guess who's hosting Thanksgiving for 19 people lmaooooo

my brother's kitchen renovations were supposed to be done in October but they weren't SO

//puts on the one-hour version of the Drums of Liberation// TIME TO CLEAN THIS WHOLE MF HOUSE

[princelythirsts]

kinda debating making a post with some phrases I use to figure out if someone who made a post I want to reblog is an anti

like stuff that’s not explicitly ship discourse related but tends to be a red flag

big disclaimer that it’s more like “here’s what I look for to make a quick decision about if I want to reblog a post or not” vs it being a judgement of the person’s character and capacity to change, etc

but even outside of ship discourse like I still would include stuff that makes me feel off yknow? like people who call others “freaks” etc

[benevolenterrancy]

(Unseen Academicals, Terry Pratchett) I think Shang Qinghua and Ponder Stibbons should have tea and compare notes about somehow accumulating so much behind-the-scenes power by doing menial jobs no one else wants that they could basically run the show if they wanted...

meanwhile we have Shen "meh good enough" Qingqiu