#I know this is inconvenient for people but I have to do what I can to protect myself

[cazort]

so this is an interesting post because although i hate when people put gum under tables, i think i can understand the mindset that people might be in when they do it. and i hope i can help others to understand it too. i bet if you reflect on this post you will realize you have things in common with these people.

it basically happens when people are chewing gum and they want to stop, but they don't have an easy place or way to throw it away. maybe they are not carrying a wrapper or any paper, there is no trash can in the room they are in, or they are not allowed to get up to go to the trash can (a frequent problem in some authoritarian school settings, incidentally) or they might even be too lazy to get up and go to the trash can, and/or to find a wrapper or paper to stick the gum in.

i know this sounds gross, but some people are not particularly averse to germs and have no qualms sticking the gum there temporarily; they may have the full intention of actually taking it back and putting it in their mouth again and chewing on it. and then they may forget.

they might be sticking it there temporarily with the intention of returning with a wrapper or paper and then later placing it in the trash, but again, they may forget.

also though, people may see sticking the gum there permanently as a less-harmful alternative than dropping the gum on the floor where someone is likely to step on it. stepping in gum is really gross, often much more inconvenient than merely touching hard gum stuck to the bottom of a table. part of the reason why is that gum on the ground is more likely to melt, such as if sun shines on it, and stepping in that can be really nasty. gum on the underside of a table is less likely to melt for the simple reason that direct sunlight is unlikely to shine on it.

lastly, and this is a huge factor, consider that there may be really deep, systemic factors that are operating that make the other person's whole cost/benefit/risk calculus and decision-making process radically different than our own.

consider:

people may have mental or developmental disorders that limit their reasoning ability. like all the logic in your head about why it is a bad idea or inconsiderate to others to stick gum to the bottom of the level, may be over their head.

people may have trauma about authority figures that leads them to not want to get up and go to a trash can (imagine if a person has trauma about getting up to go to the trash can as a kid, and getting yelled at or otherwise harshly punished)

people could be dealing with all sorts of severe stuff (mental illness, drug addiction/withdrawal, malnourishment, severe stress, an abusive home environment, sleep loss or deprivation) that you may have no clue about. the little item of what they do with their gum may be so tiny relative to the stuff they are dealing with that it isn't even on their radar. they may be trying as hard as they can to hold it together and avoid a much worse problem than sticking gum to the bottom of a table, and in a moment of weakness they stick the gum there as the path of least resistance.

consider that people who have all sorts of crazy stuff go wrong in their life on a day-to-day basis may see the imposition of accidentally touching a gross piece of gum on the bottom of the table, as a trivial inconvenience, not worth worrying about. so they may not even perceive it as an imposition on others. consider for example that some people have to deal with rats and roaches in their home, bullets coming through their walls when they sleep, being beaten or abused by family members, being harassed by police, being bullied or subjected to violence by peers, and all sorts of other stuff. if this is your world, seriously, what is a piece of gum? it's nothing.

do i like it? heck no.

would i rather live in a world where there is no gum stuck to the underside of tables? heck freaking yes.

but i don't really think there is a fundamental gap between myself and people who stick gum there.

i think the thought exercise you go through when considering this small annoyance, this minor instance of disgust, is useful because the same processes are helpful for understanding more severe impositions on people's convenience, or even health and safety. and we all know that we live in a world where there are more severe impositions we deal with, sometimes on a daily basis.

i want to be compassionate and understanding of others, especially people who are doing things i find harmful. i don't want to "other" these people, i want to understand them, because that opens the door to helping them and ultimately stopping the behavior.

maybe it's as simple as making sure there are trash cans in every room. maybe it's more complicated like helping people work through their trauma, or solving deep social ills in society. whatever it is, i want to do all these things. i want to live in a world where there is no gum on the bottom of tables, and i think that in this world, a lot of other problems would be solved too. it's all interrelated.

i cannot relate to people who put gum under tables i have nothing in common with people who put gum under tables i honestly find it hard to accept the humanity of people who put gum under tables

[t-a-a-1]

More Than Meets The Eye

TFA Optimus! X F!Reader

6k

Summary: Being a rising journalist is difficult. Especially when you have to live a secret criminal life. Things get worst when you start to fall in love with your enemy, Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and hero of Detroit City.

You believe the feelings can't be mutual. Yet, he slowly starts to notice that you are more than meets the eye.

A/N: Lots of yearning. Jealously. Enemies to lovers?? You are a journalist who is also a criminal. Idk. Takes place between Season 1 and 2 of TFA.

Chapter 1: Ride or Die

....

Detroit City could be ugly, nasty, unhygienic, gentrified and many other things.

But never boring.

Especially with robotic aliens patrolling the streets.

    Bots that you didn't trust fully nor liked very much.

Even more, that Optimus Prime that everyone seemed to like so much.

With his red and blue colors, his helm that looks like he is always wearing a cap and straight posture that was too authoritative for your liking.

    While everyone was excited, taking pictures of the Autobots, you were there to ask the real questions. Your job as a reporter was to tell the truth and that's what you plan to do by exposing the leader of the Autobots.

"Mr. Prime, I have a question for you."

    You raised your hand, not really sure if that matters but you wanted to keep being respectful.

"Oh, yes, how can I help you, ma'am?"

    Optimus sees you walk through the crowd of people and paparazzi. Press conferences weren't unknown to him. The citizens, the reporters, the speechless mayor and his assistant that probably did everything for him.

"I've done some research and Detroit's oil supply has plummeted since your arrival to Earth. This has created a tax increase for all of Detroit's citizens. How do you respond to this?"

"Well, we do need to eat to keep helping the city," Optimus bends down to be able to speak on the mic. "But we apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused."

"If you were sorry you and your team would have already found all  the fragments of the AllSpark and departed Earth."

"How do you know about–?"

    You didn't let him finish his question as you striked with another statement.

"But no, you and the Autobots are too focused on wasting Earth's resources and playing heroes to even think of recovering your world's most powerful energy source."

"What? No, we–"

    He keeps getting interrupted by you. Although he tries to keep his cool, he wasn't in the best of moods either. Each statement you were making was ticking off his clock.

"Without mentioning that you have been spotted entering nearby natural reservation islands without the proper permissions or documentation."

"Well, yes but I thought it was fine–"

"Why would it be fine?" You look up at him. Even when you weren't very fond of the alien robots, you had to admit that they were a spectacle to look at. But you quickly shook the thought away.  "Just because you are big and dangerous you think you are entitled to cross human law?"

"Look missy, I don't know what's your problem but–"

"My problem is that you are not answering my questions."

    There's a bit of laughter coming from behind Optimus. If he had been smart enough, he could've said something along the lines of 'you aren't asking any questions, you are just saying statements.' Instead, he lashes out on you, giving you the exact reaction you wanted.

"If only you gave me time, I would respond to them!" Seeing his mistake, Optimus stands away from the pod, clearly frustrated at the situation.  "You know what, we don't have the time for this."

    Smiling Autobots was the first thing he saw as soon as he turned to look at them. He ex-vents, not wanting to deal with it.

"Autobots, transform and roll out."

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.

.

    The abandoned building had become their home. It was big enough to have rooms for everyone. Each catering for every bot's needs. But not even the vastness of the building could sparse the leader's rising annoyance. Walking from side to side of the hangar, looking down and with a servo on his chin, he questioned the previous interaction.

    He doesn't remember seeing you before. Either that or your existence wasn't important enough for his processor to remember.

"How did that lady know about the AllSpark?" Optimus keeps walking as Bumblebee and Sari play video games on the sofa. "We haven't told anyone about the fragments."

    Hearing something being dropped, Optimus quickly turns to look at the little girl who has taken long-term residence at their base.

"Sari?" Optimus questions, getting closer to her. "Is there anything you want to say?"

"Sorry, I thought yall were going to release that information to the public soon," she plays with her thumbs, moving them in a circle in between her hands. "So, I thought, why not sell the information to a reporter? Save you guys the time!"

"Why would you do that?"

    Bumblebee questions her, he didn't know about her actions either.

"Because I need the money! If I don't have money, I can't afford food. If I don't eat, I'll die!" Sari feels threatened, especially when she sees the rest of the bots gathering around her. "And all my credit cards have been frozen ever since my dad disappeared."

    It was as if everyone had a spoken agreement. Her explanation was a very good one. Feeling shy and maybe like a burden to them, she did what any little girl would. As best as she could with the current circumstances. No one was angry at her, just worried for what this could bring to the team.

"What else have you told her?"

    Prowl asks this time, sounding as calm as ever.

"Nothing, I promise!" Sari exclaimed. "Actually, ever since I told her about my situation, she never fails to send me some money in the mail."

"Probably to gain your trust so you could later tell her more information about us," Ratchet always assumed the worst of people. A trait that no one could blame. Being a war-veteran, distrusting others was the best for survival.

"I don't think so, she just sends money. No notes, no letters, nothing."

"Whatever the situation is, we can't have her spreading misinformation about us," Bulkhead is the last to speak his mind.

"She wasn't lying, bulkhead," Optimus remembers your statements. Each of them had truth in them. "She was right. We did everything she said we did."

    As much as he wanted to reprimand the little girl, he couldn't do it. Instead he takes a few seconds to think.

"But we can't have her writing negative articles about us," he says as he takes a moment to look at his very little friend. "Especially if we plan to ask for some monetary compensation for Sari."

    He really didn't want to ask for any kind of payment from the humans. Everything he did, he did in the name of goodness and to further improve Cybertronian-Human diplomatic relationships. But Sari was part of the team and his duty as leader was to take care of everyone. And she was a helpless little girl. He needs to take care of her properly and for that he needs human currency. Not much, just whatever is needed for a human to survive. Food, maybe clothes? Water. Oxygen? Medication ... Education? Did she need that? He is not sure but maybe Sari could make him a list later.

For now, there is a reporter he needs to find.

.

.

.

    You weren't new to doing undercover work. You enjoyed it, pretending to be someone else, getting the information you needed, then going home as if you had lived another life.

    Tonight, it was one of those nights. Where you wore heels, a skirt and a revealing top. Loose hair and lip gloss and a wing to cover your real hair color.

    During the day you were a reporter. Tonight you were a car enthusiast.

"So, would you take me?"

"A beautiful car needs a beautiful woman,"

    You had been talking with a man for fifteen minutes. It's stupid how easy it was to get a man. Just listening to them talk for ten minutes straight without talking usually does the trick.

"And you know, racing is not the only thing I am good at."

    Smiling, not because of his suggestive comment but because you were about to get what you wanted, you were about to make your way inside the car.

    Until bright lights pointing at you ruined the moment.

"What does that freak want?"

    There is a loud sound of engine coming from the large truck. Although the light was bright, you could see a few shades of blue and red.

"This is the police, stand down."

"Shit."

    The man who you were talking to didn't hesitate to turn on his car and speed up. Letting off a train of fumes and leaving you behind.

    Great, now you had to explain that you weren't a hooker but an undercover reporter to the officer.

    Except that this wasn't a cop. It wasn't even a person. But a driverless car. A bot you tragically knew too well.

"So you have come for your revenge after today's press conference?" you ask sarcastically as you begin to walk away. You raised your hand and waved from side to side."Well, you got it. Now leave me alone."

    You can hear the little 'click and clack' of your heels as they impact against the concrete ground. But close by you can still hear the roaring engines. Headlights were still pretty bright and you wondered if he understood human cues. Because this just looks like some guy harassing a woman.

"Not even a 'thank you' for saving you from that guy?" Optimus follows as he drives next to you. "I thought you would be more educated."

"Well, I didn't ask you to save me," you wanted to take bigger steps but you've been walking for so long with your heels that you can't do it anymore. "Is butting into other people's business an Autobot costume?"

"Look I am not going to fall into your tactics," he says. "I just came to say that I think we started off with the wrong pede."

"Oh? Really? Why do you think that?"

"Well, for starters, I think you have the wrong ideas about us," Optimus takes a closer look at you. Wearing a different style than what you wore this morning. "Yes you are right, sometimes we don't do the right thing. But we are new here and we don't know any better."

"So you should be excused for all actions just because of your ignorance?" you feel like you are being observed. Not in a desirable manner but rather a curious one. Optimus didn't have 'eyes' but optics. His vision is probably more enhanced, being a bot and all.  "Is that what you are saying?"

"No, I am saying that maybe you could try and understand us and be more ... lenient whenever you write about us."

"And why would I do that?" you began to feel self conscious. Miniskirts weren't your thing, you liked them but Optimus heavy optics on you wasn't the most comfortable. Maybe it was all your imagination. Besides, you doubted that Optimus could feel attraction towards a human. "Are you going to hurt me if I don't?"

"What? No!"

    You stop walking and suddenly turn to look at him.

"Then I won't change anything."

    He doesn't want to think about it too much but he feels his something inside him short-circuit. Now, he realized he had been staring at you for too long. Particularly interested in your skin. As far as he knows metal and skin don't react the same way to cold. Your material being more sensitive to climate change. He was studying you and all he concluded is that you were cold.

"Why do you care so much about what we do and don't? How does it even affect you?" his engines roar louder.  "We help the humans with crime, cleaning the streets, repairing buildings and other humiliating things without any type of compensation but I don't see you writing about that stuff!"

"Do you know what happens when you and your crew destroy a building?"

"The city repairs it."

"Yes, they do," you walk towards him, aggressively placing your hands on his door. His truck form was too large for you to reach his window. It's not like you were planning to punch him but rather make your point. "But who's money do they use to repair those damages?"

    He stays quiet and you proceed.

"The people's money," using your index finger, you keep poking at him each time you make a statement. "Ever since you and your Autobots got here, things have become way more expensive. Food, gas, bills. There are families who will be homeless because they can't afford to pay rent. All because the city is raising taxes to pay for all the damages you cause."

    His headlights blink every time you keep touching him, with every word that escapes your lips.

"It's already hard enough being a journalist in Detroit and now I have to focus on surviving too. I need to contribute good stories to the newsroom or I won't even have money to buy cigarettes."

    Then, you point off into the distance, the road is clear but dark. Only the city lights illuminated the path but everything had an eerie feel to it .

"And that guy you just scared off? He was my ticket to have a warm meal tonight and you ruined it for me."

    You take your hands off him. His headlights stop blinking.

"So, I am sorry. I am sorry I won't write about how the Autobots are Detroit's heroes and how good they are because they pick up some cans."

    You walk away. Now thinking of whether to spend your last $20 bucks on food or a taxi to take you home.

    At least you can't hear the roaring engine anymore.

As he sees you struggle to keep walking, Optimus notices your shivering. How you tried to cover your backside with your bag and how ever so often your stomach would quietly growl. Although he wasn't an expert on human biology, he knew that meant you were hungry.

    He remembers your words and then Sari's. Although you were struggling to survive, you still somehow managed to help out Sari. A job he is supposed to be doing but failing miserably.

"I– " he drives up to you again. For a second, he doesn't have anything to say. Apologizing won't help you in any way. "Is there any way I can help?"

"Well, unless you can transform into a racing car and take me to do some illegal car racing, I don't think so."

    Behind you, you hear metal shifting. Driving next to you is blue and red ... Corvette? Camaro? Ferrari? You didn't know a single thing about cars but the only thing you knew is that it was a nice looking car. Dynamic, elegant and shiny. Hot and sexy. And a beautiful car needs a beautiful girl.

"Anything else?"

.

.

.

    It was 3 a.m.

A dark and isolated road on the outskirts of Detroit will be witness to your first car racing. You didn't know a single thing about cars and much less racing. But thankfully for you, your racer is a car. He should know better ... right?

    As a reporter you are supposed to blend in with the crow but with Optimus, you knew that was impossible. All eyes were on you as soon as you drove by the starting line. Wondering who had just joined the car racing scene.

"Everyone is here ... Can't we just arrest them?"

"No, I am not the police.  I am just here to report on things. To inform people this is happening."

You look around the vehicle, there was technology that Earth didn't have. There wasn't a single thing you could understand. Getting nervous, you tried to get some fresh air. Clicking a few random buttons, you hear Optimus make a few displeased growls.

"Would you stop that? You know you are touching my body, right?"

    You quickly stop, not knowing how to feel about being inside a mechanic alien.

"Can you lower the windows then? I am starting to feel a little claustrophobic."

    Optimus does as you told him and now you get a clearer view of your sides. To your right there is a white Camaro with black racing stripes. To your left, a red and white car. The fancy type which brand you didn't know nor care.

"Hey beautiful, when I win let's make out in the back of my car!"

    Hearing that comment, you tell Optimus to roll up the windows again. He quickly didn't hesitate to ask questions.

"What is make out?"

    You see another woman stand in front of the car. Holding a red handkerchief. Extremely beautiful and thin, she made walking in heels look easy. The cars start their engines and you start regretting this.

"If we win this, I'll show you."

"What do we get if we win anyway?"

    Looking at the steering wheel, you think about holding it but then again Optimus seems very decided for you not to touch him. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you shake the thought off your head.

"I get a good story and three thousand dollars."

"Can I have some of that money? For Sari, of course."

"Absolutely but," you look around the car, trying to look for the seatbelt. The race was about to start and you couldn't find it. "Where is the seat-"

    But the race had started, Optimus didn't listen as he sped though the road. You abruptly lay back on the seat. Making mental notes about the situation. The racers, the rules, the cars, the place.

You wished you could enjoy the excitement of the race ... if it only wasn't that your life was held by a threat.

As Optimus makes an abrupt turn, you move from one seat to the other. Almost doing a complete 360.    

"Would you care to drive more carefully?!"

    You rub your head. Feeling like a small bump on the back, you are thankful the windows are tinted dark. No one can see your humiliating falling and bumping into Optimus windows and door.

"Don't you want to win, missy?"

"I can only win if I get to the finishing line ALIVE!"

    As if he wasn't hearing you, he makes another aggressive movement. This time you end up side down, with your head on the feet rest and your legs on the passenger seat.

"THAT'S IT! I AM DRIVING!"

    You straighten up and quickly put your hands on the steering wheel, taking control of the alien mech.

"Hey, missy! Hands off the steering wheel!!"

"I'll do that when you learn how to drive!"

    You fought against his strength, as he moved himself to the opposite side. It wasn't often that you fought against an alien but if your life wasn't in danger you wouldn't do so. Watching all the cars passing by was also alarming, you weren't only going to die but also lose.

"I'll have you know my driving skills have been renowned by the Elite Guard!"

"I don't give a f–"

    He lost control, as you did. The screeching tires against the pavement could be heard as the rubber of them burned. You couldn't react as Optimus crashes against a pine tree. Hitting your head against the steering wheel, you thought you might get a concussion. However, you get enough strength to get out of the car and walk a few meters away from him. It wasn't until all the racing cars had passed you that Optimus transformed back to his robot form.

"I just got a new paint job and a polish!"

    He says as he sees some scratches on his body.

"And you almost killed me!" you put a hand on your head, it hurts as if your whole brain was pulsating. Your sight is dizzy and your body is weak. "I knew it, I knew this wouldn't work out and I still trusted you."

"We wouldn't be here if you had only kept your hands to yourself."

"No, we wouldn't be here if only you had a goddamn seatbelt?!"

    Optimus was also frustrated with the situation. Now he is too far behind to win the race and he needed the money to buy food for Sari. Not only that but after tonight he is going to have to give explanations to the rest of his team. He is probably gonna be made fun of for not having a 'leader-behavior' and they were right. Because why was he here? At first, he just wanted to help you. But it seems you don't want to nor appreciate his effort.

"And why would I? I don't let humans inside me," he points at you, unaware of your delicate state.  "Besides it's not my fault your body is so weak."

"Well, for someone who is supposed to protect life, you certainly do a great," there is clear sarcasm in your voice. You probably shouldn't be fighting against a giant robot but if he were to squish you right now, he would be doing you a favor.

"I don't even know why you are on Earth if you don't even like humans."

"Oh, I like humans, I just don't like you."

"Well, the feeling is mutual."

    You take off your heels and start walking back on the cold pavement. Feeling cold everywhere, you wonder what is going to kill you first. Hypothermia or brain damage.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"We are on the outskirts of the city, you'll get home by the next solar cycle if you walk."

    As much as Optimus dislikes you, he wouldn't let a lady walk alone at night.

"Let me take you home."

"No," now it hurts to breathe. You probably got a few injuries but you tried to hide the pain. The last thing you wanted was to confirm Prime's idea that you were weak. You were, but he didn't have to know. "Just leave me alone."

"Does your pride have no end?" Optimus' words weren't helping either. "Just come inside–"

    He was going to keep talking until he noticed that you had stopped walking. He sees you put a hand on your head and the other on your stomach.

    Suddenly, you lose balance and he quickly reaches a servo out to catch you. He had assumed that most humans should be warm. The coldness of your body was not common. Analyzing you, he sees that you are still breathing but unconscious. You are small on his servo and he feels as though he needs to cover you.

Maybe, you were right ... he should have let you drive.

.

.

.

    There were many questions in Ratchet's processor. But seeing Optimus' worried face restrained his voice box from instigating the Prime.

"I am not an expert in human biology but my analysis says that she is dehydrated and malnourished. She probably hasn't eaten in days."

    Ratchet sees you in the medical berth. In a deep sleep and weakend, he doesn't know when you will wake up.

"Don't you think it would have been better to take her to a human medical center?"

"I thought about it but while I was driving, she woke up momentarily and asked me not to take her there."

    Optimus had assumed that the reason you didn't want to go to a 'hospital' was due that maybe you didn't have a means to pay for it. The thought alone made him spark ache, he didn't understand why humans would charge for a basic right.

"Well then, make yourself useful and bring her some warm human fuel," Ratchet says. "And maybe some human clothes with more fabric or a blanket."

    Optimus nods, but there is hesitancy. He doesn't move and Ratchet catches on this. His optics are on you as if studying you. Most obvious, there is guilt and worry. He takes a closer look at him. Some part of his paint was ripped off and his metal was scratched.

"Did anything of importance happen?"

"I tried to help her with something but things didn't occur as I planned them."

    There was something he was keeping to himself.

"Did anything else happen?"

"It's just ...," he pauses and the longer he looks at you, the more Ratchet wonders. He has known the boy for some time now. He has seen him at his best and at his worst but this is different. It's like he wants to say or do  something but he can't. Either because he is too timid or because he can't find the right words. But Optimus' eloquence was known through all of Cybertron.

"It's nothing."

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    The smell of chicken noodle soup wakes up. It is an unknown place but you feel warm. Much more than your cold, small apartment. It was a bright room, and underneath was a red, giant medical bed. A white blanket covers your body and the face of a little girl stares right at you.

"Hi!"

    You slowly stand up, your head still hurting but at least you were alive.

"Hey, kid."

    You take a better look at the place around you. At least it wasn't a hospital and for that you were thankful.

"I am Sari! And you must be (Y/N)? We exchanged Autobot information before?"

    The girl was smiling, excited to see you. By hearing her name, you immediately knew what she was referring to. A few weeks ago, you had received a letter from someone, you assumed that it was a kid due to the wacky handwriting and simple vocabulary. Nonetheless, this kid was selling Autobot information to you, some things valuable, others not so much. After learning the truth behind the kid, you decided to help her as much as you could.

"I am guessing this is the secret base of the Autobots?"

    You ask the obvious. You didn't find any other logical explanation as to why there would be such big beds and medical equipment.

"Yeah ... Please, don't tell anyone," Sari says. "Or Optimus is gonna have to threaten you."

"Well, I would like to see him try," you give the little girl a head pat. "But I promise I won't say a word, just because you ask me to."

    This would have been valuable information if it wasn't due that it didn't matter anymore. You were supposed to have a story by today and the only thing you have is a headache. Another day, another non-existent payment. You are gonna have to get used to eating air at this point.

"You should eat," Sari puts the bowl of soup closer to you. "Optimus made it for you and I helped, of course."

    After hearing his name, you quickly turn to look at the little girl. You could tell she was telling the truth but she also had a mischievous smile.

"Is there something you want to ask me?"   

    You weren't about to make a meal go to waste. Picking up the spoon, you start to dig in. It wasn't bad and you wonder if Optimus actually helped at all because you can't imagine someone who is unable to taste human food, being able to make something this good.

"Well, I was wondering ... Will you be staying with us from now on?"

"No," you simply say, too concentrated in eating to think properly. "Why are you asking that?"

"Well, do you want to?"

"Thanks for the offer but I don't think the Autobots would like me here."

"But I can get so lonely sometimes!" Sari puts puppy eyes on her face and you have to admit that it was slowly working. "I need a friend."

"You can still write to me if you would like."

"That's not enough ..."

    Suddenly, you heard loud and big steps approaching from behind you. You didn't want to think about it. If you don't see it, it's not real. But then you hear mechanics moving and you are sure that if you were to turn around, you'll find a very unpleasant faceplate.

"Sari, do not overwhelm our guests," Optimus says. "She's still recovering."

"Don't mind me, I was just leaving."

    Like an animal, you drink the last of your soup and put it next to you.

"Hey um ... About last night, I ..." He pauses and struggles with his words. "I wanted to apologize–"

"No need."

    You stand up and let the white blanket covering you slip off your body. It gets cold immediately and you are tempted to ask if you can stay with the blanket.

"Wait! If you really need to, you can stay here,"

"And become your charity project? No, thank you."

    His faceplate was still very close to yours. Now you can take a closer look at his optics.  You didn't want to admit it but they were quite beautiful. A type of blue not found on Earth. Maybe not even in the entire universe. It was unique to him and you were a bit jealous of his own individuality.

"I am just trying to help."

"I think you have helped enough," you weren't about to fall for his kindness. It was his own stubbornness that put you in this situation. That and that you haven't taken care of yourself properly but he doesn't have to know that. "If I let you help me again, then I'll for sure die."

"If only you would put your pride away, we could help each other–"

"You want to help me? Why? Because you like me? Or to subside your guilt?"

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"The right thing to do?"  You can't stand his righteousness. Pretending to be this all-good creature when you know that can't be. How good can he be when he is the cause of your misfortunes? Not only yours but to a lot of more people. The worst part of it all is that he doesn't seem to want to do anything about it. "Why don't you start by leaving my planet first then?"

    Optimus stares at you and you look back at him. It was a few seconds but to you it lasted minutes.

    He doesn't say anything but slowly moves apart from you and walks away.

You turn to look at Sari who was still sitting close by.

"Sorry you had to see that kid."

"It's alright, but can I tell you something?"

    You didn't want to be here. The sun was probably about to rise and you just wanted to go home. But you couldn't say no to the girl, she seemed too sweet and her situation was still lamentable. You nod, confirming for Sari to continue.

"I've known Optimus for a time now and I can tell you that he is not very well-versed with the ladies," she says.  "He rescued a woman once and she asked for his phone number."

    Tilting you heard, a lot of things crossed your mind. You have so many questions, especially about the kind of woman who would want a machine as something more than a friend.

"And what happened?"

"He gave it to her and she texted him," she raised a small hand, pointing up. "The text said 'Do you think I am pretty?"

"And Optimus texted back saying 'I think you look soft and squeezable. And she never texted back."

    You stopped yourself from laughing. Although a small smile left your lips. You look away for a second and then look back at the young girl.

"Optimus is good at hiding his feelings but you can tell he was sad she never texted him back."

"Why are you telling me this?"

    You finally ask, curious about the story but mostly about Sari's intentions.

"Just so you know that he can be an idiot sometimes but he has a good heart ... Well, spark," Sari's voice becomes more gentle and this caught your attention. This wasn't supposed to be a funny story and now you feel a bit shameful for laughing.

"And I think he just doesn't know how to tell you that."

.

.

.

The sun was starting to come out.

You took off your heels for a little bit until the cold pavement was too much to handle for your skin.

    You weren't expecting for things to go this way. Wanting to start a new life, away from everything. It was all going smoothly until they arrived. Now you find yourself on a bench, cold and hungry. Waiting for the first bus to take you home.

How much longer did you have to endure?

    You cover your face, ashamed of yourself. Of every decision you have made in your life. This is your reality now. About to be kicked out of your apartment, without a stable job and nowhere to go. No one to talk to.

Your cellphone rings.

    Not recognizing the phone number on the screen, you were hesitant to answer but lastly, you picked it up, things can't get worse anyways.

"It was harder to get a hold of you than I thought."

You recognized that voice.

"But I am glad you are doing fine. How's the city life treating you?"

"How did you find me?"

    You ask as you look around you. No one was out yet. Just a few cars passed by and the tweets of birds could be heard.

"That doesn't matter. I called thinking you may be interested in a job."

"I am not. No matter what you say, I won't go back there."

"Are you sure? I can send you over the first half of the payment right now."

You were in desperate need. He knows that and is taking advantage of that. Your instincts  were begging you to say yes. To just do one more job, to get enough food to survive for a little while until you can get back on your feet. But ...

"I appreciate the offer. But I have to decline."

    There is a long pause.

"We'll keep in touch."

.

.

.

"Still thinking about that woman?"

    When Ratchet says things like that, it's difficult not to notice the subtle hits in his voice box.

"Perhaps."

    Ratchet can tell many things from the Prime's actions. He wasn't drinking his fuel and in deep thought. At least he wasn't denying the question.

"I am sure you'll see her again," Ratchet says as he pat's Optimus' shoulder plate. "Next time ask for her number."

"It's not like that."

    His cheeks have a slight blue. Very minimal but Ratchet knows better than that.

It was a lively evening in the Autobot's base. With Bumblebee and Sari playing video games while Prowl and Bulkhead stand next to them. Optimus and Ratchet usually watch from the sidelines, never participating but just treasuring the tranquility of the moment.

"If it's not that then what is it?"

"I just ..."

    Optimus hesitates not because he didn't want to tell Ratchet but because he couldn't understand his own feelings. Was it guilt? Curiosity? It's strange and yet both emotions are something he wishes to not feel. He should be worrying about the things he can fix, people he can help.

He shouldn't think about you.

About yesterday night. About the drive back to the base. You laid on his seat, unconscious. Yet you mustered the strength to say three simple words.

"Don't leave me."

And just like that. His spark ached.

Damn you.

    He doesn't have time for this. For all he cares, he hopes to never see you again.

Because how dare you play with his feelings like that?

"I'm going for a drive."

    There was nothing else to do but ride or die.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: Here is a new story I am working on. It was really fun to write this. Thank you for all the support you have given me this far! I'll continue to write. For any ideas, comments, concerns, comments you can always message me/or inbox me here. Thank you. Also sorry for any mistakes I made. I don't proof read. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and I'll be answering comments soon!

See you in the next story!

[rook-laidir]

Random Rook Banter 2: Electric Boogaloo

These are all made up by me!

Part 1

Harding: You seriously expect me to believe that you just so happened to have the exact cards you needed for every hand?

Rook: You’re really not letting this go, huh?

Harding: If I can prove you cheated, you have to give me my gold back.

Rook: How do you plan on doing that?

Harding: Neve’s on it.

Rook: …Shit.

~~~

Rook: Ok, let’s say I did cheat. How much would I owe you?

Harding: Forty gold.

Rook: Forty gold?!

Harding: I talked to some of Neve’s friends. They said to add a fee for the inconvenience of getting cheated.

Rook: You went to the *Threads* about this?

Harding: Neve said if I want to get back at a scammer, I need to go to the experts.

Rook: I’m not a scammer!

~~~

Rook: Ok, Harding, here you go. 40 gold, fair and square.

Harding: My fee’s gone up.

Rook: Seriously?

Harding: Lucanis’s contract negotiator is really good.

~~~

Rook: So the Dalish, are other elves allowed to just join?

Davrin: Don’t tell me you’re thinking about spending your days living in the woods and herding halla.

Rook: Gods, no. I just knew someone who would’ve liked it a lot, I think.

Davrin: Most clans are pretty accepting of city elves who wanted to go back to the old ways. Not sure what the stance is now that our gods are trying to kill everything in sight.

Rook: Right, almost forgot about that.

~~~

Davrin: So why didn’t your friend go to any nearby clans? There are clans in Rivain, right?

Rook: Only a handful. And nowhere near where I grew up. My mother and I were along the coast, so there wasn’t really a forest to wander around in. She always wanted to visit one, though. Learn more about our heritage and all that.

Davrin: Not much of a heritage left nowadays.

Rook: Before or after our gods turned out to be the worst?

Davrin: I’ll let you know when I decide.

~~~

Rook: You know, just once I’d like to come to Dock Town without there being a corpse involved. Or at least a limit. Can we limit it to three corpses maximum next time?

Neve: You said you wanted the full tour.

Rook: I meant more along the lines of fried fish and stray cats and less blood magic and ritual sacrifice.

Neve: (laughs) Next time, I’ll make sure there are as few demons and blood magic as possible. Maybe we could actually enjoy The Cobbled Swan for a change.

Rook: It’s a date, Neve Gallus.

~~~

Neve: Rook, Dock Town’s my problem. You don’t have to keep coming here.

Rook: You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Gallus.

Neve: I meant with the slavery. The odds of you getting recognized are low, but…It can’t be easy coming back here after everything. I can keep you updated if you prefer.

Rook: There are people here exactly like me who are in chains because of their ears or their status or because they can’t use magic. I got out because I got lucky. I can’t leave them behind.

Neve: If we survive this, I’ll have a talk with Ashur. The Shadow Dragons could really use someone like you.

~~~

Emmrich: Rook, I had no idea you were so interested in ancient Nevarran burial rites!

Rook: Beg pardon?

Emmrich: Back at Blackthorne Manor, I noticed you slipping a first edition copy of Nevarran Burials and Customs into your pack. Had I known you had an interest, I would’ve gladly lent you my copy.

Rook: Oh, right, yeah, real interesting read.

Emmrich: In the future, I would recommend against touching any tomes without proper preparation. Most Nevarran books that ancient have various anti-thieving wards.

Rook: Wait, really?

Emmrich: Certainly. Books on burial rites can often make the owner see horrific visions, should the book be acquired by less than legal means.

Rook: Good to know. Hey, not related, but there’s a merchant in the Hall who might have some questions about that.

Emmrich: Oh dear…

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

Hello. I saw you offer help for newbies to the WH40K rigamarole with lore details. Anyway I'm writing a thing and I would like to know if there's like. Tried and true ways for Space Marines to be interrogated? Specifically, by the inquisition and the relatively squishy Inquisitors. I was thinking maybe something that would use their heightened senses against them like high frequencies and such. Anyway, I would truly appreciate your help. Best regards ✨️

Hmmmmmmmm…

Full disclosure, I haven’t read too much about space marines being tortured, by the Inquisition or others. But I do know a fair amount about Astartes physiology and Imperial culture, so let’s start with that. Obvious content warning: discussion of torture, mutilation, people doing horrible horrible things to other people, and Imperial Fists.

Firstly, the obvious: Astartes are much more durable and have a much higher pain tolerance than a baseline human. Lash a human with a whip, and he’ll scream in pain; lash a marine with a whip, and he won’t even blink. The whip might not even break skin, and if it does, the wound will clot and heal before your eyes. 40k regularly depicts Astartes taking serious injuries (broken bones, lost limbs, bad burns) without much thought beyond the inconvenience.

Nearby, Colnid was cauterising the ragged stump that had once been his leg with the hissing barrel of Duolor’s plasma pistol. ‘I heard that, sergeant,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Where’s Apothecary Drekos when you need him? I’m making a real mess of this.’

From Blades of Damocles. The guy subsequently splints on a different leg (it makes sense in context) and keeps going with the rest of his squad. That’s pretty typical of an Astartes.

That said, we also know Astartes do have limits, thanks to uhhhhh rigorous testing by the Imperial Fists using the Pain Glove. What is the Pain Glove? I’ll let the Lexicanum take over here:

It is a "glove" of electrofibre mesh suspended in a vertical shaft, covering the entire body with the exception of the head. It fits the body like an intimate second skin. The glove stimulates nerves to inflict the most agonizing pain throughout the body, without causing physical harm. The device ensures the individual is kept conscious throughout the ordeal by suppressing reflexes which cause fainting.

The Pain Glove is used for meditation (lower settings, shorter exposure) and punishment/torture (higher settings, longer exposure). The phrase “stimulates nerves” implies that the glove plugs into a marine’s ports and thereby accesses his nervous system.

Which brings us to an important point: you can literally interface with a space marine’s nervous system. That’s what the ports are for. That’s why they move so easily in their armor. Space marine armor literally plugs into its wear’s nervous system, so when the brain sends “move move move” signals to the rest of the body, the signals go to the armor, too. Very cyberpunk.

But as the kinky bastards in the Imperial Fists have demonstrated, you can plug other things into those ports and send other signals to the body. Signals like pain. Lots of pain. Pain beyond comprehension. I kinda doubt inquisitors use the Pain Glove themselves, but I’m sure they have other devices they can plug into the ports and blast the unlucky brother that fell into their hands.

It is also worth noting that torture goes beyond physical torment. Loyalist space marines give a hell of a lot of weight to their honor, their duty, and their chapter, far more than they do for their own well being. They’re heavily indoctrinated fanatics. How do you think they’d would handle being told that they are heretics, that they’ve betrayed the Imperium, that their chapter has cast them out, that their name is mud and their honor worthless? NOT WELL! And how much worse would they get if they were convinced that this was true?

If you’ve played the Space Marine games, you’ve seen the long term effects of this kind of questioning (internal and external) on an Astartes. In SM1, Titus is pretty warm and outgoing by Astartes standards. In SM2, he’s the opposite. He’s far more close-mouthed and defensive, and he initially insists on returning to the Deathwatch. The man is convinced that his chapter considers him scum, and is miserable. And this is a guy who has always believed in his own innocence. What do you think would happen if he came to believe he was heretical scum? I think he might lose his mind or kill himself.

This reaction isn’t limited to Titus. There’s a point in the Uriel Ventris books where Ventris and his friend Pasanius are convicted of a severe Codex Breach and sent on a Death Oath. At the start of Dead Sky, Black Sun, they’re both spiraling as a result. Pasanius has even begun to self-harm. Convince a space marine that he’s been abandoned by his chapter, that he’s betrayed his duty to the Emperor and the Imperium, and you take away everything that gives his life meaning.

Now, of course this is a task more easily said than done. Space marines are heavily indoctrinated to make them as mentally resistant as they are physically resistant. But an inquisitor, especially a full-blown Lord Inquisitor, is positioned to make those charges far more convincing.

The Inquisition are the secret police of the Imperium. They act in the name of the Emperor, so by the Throne you’d better jump when they say jump. Okay, okay, it’s more complicated than that—there’s a lot of different power centers in the Imperium, and a wise inquisitor (admittedly something in short supply) will not march into the office of a Chapter Master/Archmagos/High Lord/etc. and expect the occupant to start cringing and bowing. In fact, there’s historically a lot of tension between Astartes and the Inquisition. But individual Astartes will carry a healthy amount of respect for the Inquisition’s authority. Even if they don’t believe an accusation of heresy is true, they know that the Inquisition can make it true.

Incidentally, this is why squishy inquisitors can torture big strong space marines. A space marine who tries to escape, much less get revenge, is a heretic. Period. He’s resisting the authority of the Emperor. There’s no coming back from that. But if he stays and endures the trials the inquisitor puts him through, then maybe, just maybe, he’ll prove his innocence.

But it’s a pretty small maybe.

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part four)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, ekko x reader college au

content: jayce ghosts you when you need him most...so you have no choice but to lean on your best friend, ekko

pining, mental health mentions, neurodivergence, lmk if i missed any!

notes: ekko pic...omg... (you may think this series is going slow but i hate a slow burn ass fic that has them fucking chapter three don't pmo...also this evolved way past just jayce and i need to do ekko justice...bc some of yall don't, clocked it)

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

“Do you know that girl Jayce is always with?” 

You arrived to class, ready to learn—but not about physics truthfully. You expected to cut corners, create friendly conversation about nothing, humor Viktor. When you got there, though, you had to ask him immediately. 

“Mel Medara?” Viktor looked to you with intrigue. “I know of her…but not much about her.” He leaned to his left, toward you, “Why?” 

“She’s just always…around? And we spoke to each other once but I was in a hurry…didn’t get much chance for a formal introduction.” 

“Are you certain that your intrigue is rooted purely in your inquisitive nature…or is there another reason you want to share?” 

“No-“ 

The sound of the door towards the front of the class opening interrupted you—it was perfect timing, actually. You would rather not have to unpack why Mel’s presence bothered you so much; truthfully it was an inexplicable feeling. Someone walked in, and you sat up straighter. 

“Hi, everyone! My name is Caitlyn, some of you may know me if you’ve ever been to the student resource center.” She smiled at you, exchanging a look of recognition. “I wanted to formally introduce myself… I will be joining as a TA. If you need anything and can’t get ahold of the professor, you can ask me your course related questions.” She moved to plug a laptop into the projector, “Here is my email for future reference.” She allowed some time for people to copy and take photos of her email down. “Unfortunately, today’s class will be canceled for an emergency…but I was instructed to relay to you that the quiz will still be held next week. It’ll be on vectors and calculating their angles. Be sure to refresh yourselves over the weekend and reach out to me should you have any questions.” People started to shuffle around her, getting up to leave class. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, guys. Feel free to use the space to get some other work done, or leave early.” 

“What the fuck, this was such a waste of my time.” You glanced back towards the board, making sure you got the email address right. “I have been so tired I could be sleeping right now.” 

“I’m sorry, I know you have a lot to deal with right now.” Viktor moved to the end of the aisle, grabbing his cane while slinging his bag over one shoulder. “At least you’ve been in tutoring. The quiz this week should be easier, right?” 

“That’s the thing,” you reached for your phone, “We’ve only just got to vectors so far. That was hard enough.” You hovered your finger over Jayce’s contact, never actually having messaged him. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you started texting him. 

hi jayce 

im sorry to bother you but i have my quiz next week and its gonna be on more stuff than we got to in our sessions

do you have any time to meet with me this weekend? if not thats ok, i can ask my friend

You paused, walking behind Viktor without looking up from the phone screen. 

i just need you

No, you shook your head, continuing the text. 

i just need your help

lmk

ty 

You grimaced at the text bubbles, hating how you split all of that up. You imagined his annoyed face, seeing all of these desperate messages. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t answer. You wouldn’t answer you. 

Viktor turned to you, “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, just frustrated and irritated and angry…thats all.” 

“That’s not a great combination.” 

You shook your head. Without trying, Viktor could always cheer you up. “Unrelated, but did Jayce ask you about what snacks I eat?” 

“He did,” he looked over at you, “It was odd. He said something about ‘reinforcements’ for your guys’ tutoring session.” 

“Oh...okay.” 

Viktor would call himself a lot of things, including perceptive. He didn’t say much, but he noticed the way your eyes lingered on one another when you first met. He was aware of the way you spoke about each other, especially when it was just Viktor around. He simply arched a brow at you, observing your concerned look at the phone screen. 

“Maybe you should take the weekend to rest and recuperate.” 

“I would…but the quiz-“ 

“Just for today. Wait for Jayce to get back to you. Then you can focus solely on next week.” He nodded reassuringly. 

He returned the nod, liking the sound of the plan. 

If only Jayce had bothered to answer. 

——————

“Hi.” 

“Come on in.” Ekko stepped back, letting you into his dorm. 

“I know it’s so last minute, but I know nothing about angles …figured you could help.” 

“I absolutely can help and would love to.” 

You sat your stuff down, getting comfortable as you’d done dozens of times before. You turned a corner, washing your hands at the sink before heading to grab a throw blanket from Ekko's bed. 

He knew your habits, calling from the living room area. “I have the heated blanket out here, too, if you wanna use that one. Know you get cold.” 

You exited his room, wearing the slippers you left under his bed. “Once again, you are the best…because I am, in fact, freezing my ass off right now.” 

“Want something to drink?” 

“Always.” 

The two of you were so in sync—it had to be that way after Powder. It became worse when Vi blamed you, suspecting one of you said something to her to make her disappear. Even though you know you did nothing wrong, there was still a self-hate there. That you couldn’t be there for a friend who needed you—so much so that she left entirely. You couldn’t do that to Ekko, he felt the same. 

“So,” you pulled out the folder Jayce had given you, a slight frown on your face at the thought of him completely ignoring you. “I have this paper, its like a cheat sheet for vectors…but besides what Jayce told me I don’t know what to do. The TA said we also have to calculate the angles…that makes no sense.” 

Ekko grabbed his notebook, flipping to a blank sheet of paper. He sketched a makeshift drawing—surprisingly good for how quick he’d done it. You were always in awe of his artistic talent. 

“Okay, so here…is a light pole.” He moved his finger to the other side of the paper, motioning toward a little drawing of you, smiling on the sidewalk. “This is you.” 

“Wait I’m so adorable here!”

Ekko chuckled, side eyeing you a bit, “Yeah…” 

You snatched the pencil—quickly drawing in a stick figure of him. “This is you!” 

“Is it really? Couldn’t tell.” 

“Hey-“ You swatted his arm, “You’re identical in my opinion.” 

“If having lines for a body is identical…then sure. But anyways…not the point of my sketch.” He grabbed the pencil back, “Thank you very much.” He flipped the pencil, using the eraser side to show you the details. “Okay…light pole…you.” He smirked, knowing you wanted to interject. Ekko raised his hand before you could, “This is the distance between you and the pole.” He made up and wrote a random number in feet under the bottom, the same for the pole. “This is the height of the pole. This is all you need to find every angle and distance measurement.” 

The look on your face was one of pure confusion. “How does that make any sense whatsoever, Ekko?” You moved to close the book. “Actually, lets just watch a movie instead. I’m prepared to fail at this point.” 

Ekko grabbed the book from you, reopening it. “Well, I’m not, so let’s get to work.” 

He continued, explaining as best he could. It was no use, though, it just wasn’t making sense to you. You nodded, trying to get him to move on to something else. 

“Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah.” You reached to hug Ekko, “You’re the best.” Pulling back, you plastered on a smile, hiding the discomfort. You didn’t feel ready whatsoever. Suddenly, Ekko grabbed your hands, pulling your attention to him. 

“You’re gonna do great.” He lingered on you for a while, “Promise.” 

The doubt you felt made you want to hole up and skip class altogether. Eventually, it developed into a disdain for Jayce. When you thought about it, he was the reason you were going to fail…again. 

——————

You decided against skipping class on Monday, but you were definitely opting out of that damn tutoring session. If Jayce can’t answer a simple few texts, how were you to know you even had a standing appointment anymore. It made you feel less than worthy of a proper notice. Above all, it just felt plain unprofessional…he’s an employee after all. 

Walking into class and into this quiz felt like a walk to your execution. Midterms were quickly approaching, which meant you only had so many quizzes you could fail before the majority of your final grade was tainted by bad ones. 

Viktor greeted you as normal, moving over to give you a seat. “Are you prepared?”

“As best as I can be.” 

The beauty of college was that you did assessments in class and got the results as soon as you submitted. Knowing you would get your score back in the next few minutes had your stomach churning. An image of Jayce, carefree and nonchalant, popped into your head. Nothing was making sense. Reluctantly, you started choosing random answers—disregarding the calculator altogether. Before you knew it, your grade, a 56%, reflected back to you. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. You closed your laptop, getting up to leave class early. “I’ll see you later, Viktor.” 

Before he could reply, you were gone. Pushing through the door. You grabbed your phone from your pocket, texting Ekko. 

im done early, wanna meet rn?

He replied a few seconds later.

omw 

You picked up the pace, not out of urgency, but in pure frustration. Everything you’d been working towards wasn’t paying off. The time you spent not being with Ekko—with Jayce—was a waste. 

When you arrived to the dining hall, Ekko wasn’t there yet. You took the time to grab both you and him something to eat for lunch. Within minutes, Ekko showed up, that warm smile on his face as usual. He leaned into you, giving you a side hug while simultaneously grabbing the food from you. 

“How was the quiz?” You didnt reply, simply giving him a side eye. “Damn…I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault…but thanks for helping.” 

He’d seamlessly changed the subject—allowing the two of you to talk without the reminder of your failure that day. You didn’t acknowledge how fast the time had passed and truthfully, didn’t care. You hadn’t planned to show up to tutoring…much less give Jayce any notice. 

To your right, you suddenly heard a voice, interrupting you and Ekko. 

“Hey.” You looked over, seeing Jayce standing there. “I figured you’d be here.” He looks between you and Ekko, hands now on his hips. “You missed our session.” 

You raised a brow and crossed your arms over your chest. “Wow, really? Didn’t know we were still having those.” 

“Of course we are, you have those quizzes-“ 

“Had.” You interrupted, “There was one today. You’d know if you checked your phone.” 

He looked down, embarrassed at his phone sitting in his front pant pocket. 

“I’m sorry- I know this is important for you but something came up.” 

“What? What came up?” Ekko spoke up. 

Jayce turned to look at him, finally acknowledging his presence again. “Something personal,” he looked away, focusing back on you. “Can we talk alone?” 

Ekko spoke again, “Say what you need to say.” 

“I would, but I’m not talking to you.” 

A screech of Ekko’s chair resounded in the dining hall. You reached a hand out, gesturing toward them. “Ekko, please.” 

Ekko looked over to you and inhaled a deep breath. He was looking at Jayce again, but kept talking to you. “I’ll see you later, okay? Call if you need anything.” 

“Wait- Ekko-” 

Jayce gulped, sitting down across from you. You watched Ekko leave as Jayce took his seat, hands resting on the table. 

“What the hell is your problem? You ghost me then show up here with an attitude? I should be pissed…I am pissed! I failed because of you!” 

He nodded, knowing the weight of his being inaccessible. “I’m sorry.” 

“You said that.” 

“There was a personal thing, a family emergency-“

“And yet, your phone is still in working condition.”

You didn’t want to be insensitive, but it takes seconds to reply. A simple message would’ve sufficed. 

“My mom’s sick.” You froze—remembering that it’s just him and his mom. “She was in the hospital all weekend…it still hasn’t gotten better.” He paused, looking at you now, “I thought I owed you to at least show up today.” 

“Well…now I feel like shit.” 

“Don’t. Not your fault I didn’t tell you what was happening.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

“Hope she gets better?” 

You reached over, placing a comforting hand on his, “I can do that.” 

He let you linger there, before pulling back. “How about this week, since I messed up so bad with scheduling…we meet as much as you’d like just so you can be ready. Shit, it can be every day if you want.” He nodded, “We’re gonna make sure you pass this class if it’s the last thing I do.” 

“Are you sure? I can be pretty high maintenance…” 

He leaned back in his chair, a nonchalant yet playful look on his face, “Not worried about it.” 

“Okay.” You shrugged, “If you say so.” 

The pair of you exchanged smiles, not at all prepared for how tumultuous this week would be. 

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @angelicmisty @1800latenitecreep @venus-in-roses

[wirewitchviolet]

The Big Lie of Transphobia

There is a lot of really horrifying transphobic stuff going on at the moment, even relative to the baseline. Like arrests and federal repression in the U.S. and don't even get me started on that new policy from Facebook and the propaganda amplification that's going to do. So you may find yourself wondering what you can do to help.

As always the real answer to that is to just give all the money and other material aid you possibly can to every trans person you are personally aware of. Individually. Don't look for a charity to donate to, there really isn't one. Make those patreon pledges and write those checks and empty those wallets and cosign for those houses, go!

But if what you're really asking is, what can you do that won't personally inconvenience you, the best thing you can probably do is to really internalize that the Big Lie backing up all the transphobia out there is a complete lie, and convince everyone else you can too. And what's the Big Lie behind transphobia? "Trans women are men who believe they are women." As usual with these, I'm going to expound on that a ton under the fold here.

It really is the lynchpin of everything transphobes have to push. If you don't believe it, none of the things they're pushing for makes even the slightest bit of sense, but if you DO believe it, even if you aren't all in on the other hate stuff, it's going to warp the hell out of your perspective and make you a crappy ally. And wow is it ever deeply embedded in there.

So for what it's worth, as a reminder, when people make statements like "trans women are women" that is stating an actual fact. That's not some weird feel-good slogan that "really" means "you should treat trans women like they are real women" or something. It's just what we freaking are. We aren't men who have some strange mental illness that makes us think of ourselves as women, we aren't people who start out as men and for some reason make some kind of decision to become women. We're just women, always have been, just like any other woman.

If you've met a number of trans women, you can very clearly and plainly see that's true, but the thing is, most people haven't. And the lie gets pushed damn hard. Most people's idea of what a trans woman is, and for that matter, most other things about life, comes from what they see in TV and movies and the like, and on those occasions where a work of fiction features someone they'll call a trans woman, they tend to get some dude to put on a dress to play the part, which is usually also some sort of weird crazy murderous sex worker. Movies and TV also tend to depict cars as prone to burst into massive fireballs if anything goes wrong with them, glass windows as something you can jump through without being sliced up so badly by the shards you're basically going to die instantly, police as caring helpful people who try to solve crimes and return people's stolen stuff and such, and people with albinism as having strange magical powers. None of this is actually true in reality.

So yeah, it's not even a little bit true. If you look at the people who insist the loudest that it is, you'll notice they are completely out of touch with reality and preach all kinds of ridiculous BS. Get it into your head that there isn't even a sliver of truth to it, and it's easier to get on the right side of a lot of things.

Are trans women trustworthy? Yeah? I mean, as much as the next person. Why wouldn't we be? Because some freaking weirdo is sharing all kinds of weird conspiracy theories and setting up weird freaking stalker shrines about us? Pretty clear who it is you shouldn't be trusting there.

Is it OK for trans women to play sports? Yeah? Why would that even be a problem? We don't have superpowers or anything. We're just regular freaking women. Well OK a lot of us have pretty nasty health problems leaving us a bit less physically fit than most women, but you know, doing athletic stuff should help with that.

Is it OK for trans women to use public restrooms? Yeah? Like honestly, I know a lot of guys get weird about women going to the bathroom in groups sometimes but there's nothing sinister about that, just sometimes you need to pull someone aside to ask if you can borrow some embarrassing thing or double check makeup or check if someone's date is as big a creep as they come off and you need to run interference. Mostly though people just need to pee sometimes, and society generally prefers that people do so in a toilet and not the street or whatever.

What about children being trans? Like... everyone's a child at some point? A lot of the downsides to being trans come from associated medical issues which can be totally prevented if spotted early, so it's actually very good to have kids look out for whether they might be dealing with those and get the appropriate medication, which is true for basically anything.

Well what about [whatever stupid BS derailment]? Yeah I'm addressing a group of people who actually need to have it explained to them that women are in fact women and not men, let's not go confusing people with whatever weird sidetrack you want to get onto.

[tojiscrack]

wherever you are right now, good morning/evening/night… that was a mouthful, but i’m not sure how else to start this.

it sounds serious, i know, it’s not, don’t worry, but i like being dramatic, haha, you know me ;) i have a small announcement to make — i say ‘small’ ‘cause it really can be done in one or two short sentences, but i’d like to give you some context and reasoning because i care about every single one of you reading this, all 470 of you, and i’d hate to leave you without an explanation.

i’m mainly addressing my LL (liar, liar) readers, ‘cause i seem to have a big following and a large number of people who interact with me because of that piece of work, but this also goes out to the very few people (and i’m not being dramatic when i say very few people, lol) who are loyal readers of SOANO (start of a new obsession).

i am going on hiatus.

yeah, i know, boo, tomatoes, the story was just getting started 😠 , etc, etc.

and i apologise.

genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, i’m truly, deeply sorry.

you’ve been forced to tolerate my extremely sporadic updates that were only just starting to get better (some updates would come weekly, whereas others would take two more weeks, but never an entire month like before). i really am sorry. i know what it feels like to enjoy a story and then be left on a cliffhanger (of sorts?) when the author goes on a hiatus — mini or not.

i think this long message will answer most of the questions you have in mind, the first being ‘how long will you be on hiatus for?’. and i do have a straight answer for that:

five months.

i know, it’s a lot. again, i apologise. i can’t apologise enough, but let’s keep the questions going.

the one i know you’re all wondering — why am i going on hiatus in the first place?

just to be clear (for those of you who have genuinely become close friends with me through interactions) i’m alive, healthy, and well! i’m not falling out of love with writing, i’ve not fallen out of love with LL or SOANO (no matter how slow the updates for the latter seems to be) and i’m not feeling pressured by writing either of these stories for you all!

the reason is quite simple… school :/ exams. MAJOR ones.

when i started writing SOANO, i was around 15 years old (give or take a few?) and i had no major exams at all to focus on. halfway through writing SOANO, i was met with my first set of important exams at 16. for those of you who are not british and/or not aware of the uk education system, GCSE’s are the exams that dictate which sixth-form college you go to. college, as in, not university-college, but the last two years of high school (junior + senior year) that are the only two years of sixthform/college.

when i started writing LL, i was in my first year of college at 17 (this time last year), and so the only ‘major’ exams i had were mock exams that would prep me for my university predicted-grades. i am now in my second (and final) year of college, and the exams during may and june will dictate the rest of my life. that includes which uni i go to, whether i’ll even go to uni at all, what course i’ll take at uni if i do end up going, etc.

you get the idea. these are important exams. the most important ones that i’ll ever have to sit this year, and starting tomorrow, i have 130 days to turn my very-average-grades around to three A’s (or perhaps two A’s and a B) to get into my desired uni.

unfortunately, i can’t do that if i spend most of my time writing up very lengthy chapters for you.

why can’t i split my time accordingly, even if it means going back to the once-a-month updates? because i am so incredibly, stupidly behind on content for the courses i’m taking right now that i can’t even afford to waste 30 minutes on doing anything other than praying and studying. that’s just the sad truth of it.

again, i’d like to apologise for the inconvenience. i’ve received so many lovely dm’s from so many of you (and i answer every single one, you know that) and in the conversations that many of us have had together, a lot of you use the story (LL) as a safe haven, an escape from your own messy school lives, almost in the same way that i use it to escape my messy school life. some of you have mentioned that you pull all-nighters simply to reread it all as if you’re reading it for the first time. a few of you have mentioned how this story was an escape from the tragic events of canon, which was exactly what i intended for it to be like during the planning process, and i’m still so overwhelmed and flattered by the growing love i’ve received from both old and new LL readers.

will the story be temporarily taken down?

absolutely not.

i considered it for a time, but after acknowledging those comments i mentioned above, i decided that what’s left of LL right now (170k+ words divided in 10 chapters) can still be a safe haven for you whenever you need it. i also knew that i wanted everything to look the same for when i’d return in late-june of this year. leaving it up would also mean that newer readers (future readers) would join the family too, and we love a full house ;)

will i still be active on tumblr during the hiatus?

yes! maybe not as frequently as before (like answering messages in my inbox every day) but i’ll definitely be active enough to get through any messages, comments, asks, etc, within the span of a week for sure. you can still tell me about your shitty day in my inbox, you can still vent to me about an encounter with a guy you hate in my dm’s, and you can definitely still send in silly things about LL or SOANO. i’ll still be active, it’ll be like i never left, only, without the fortnite-ly (not a word, i’m well aware) updates.

LL’s one year anniversary is coming up in a couple of days, and i wanted to release a new chapter in time for it, but looking at my exams and how much cramming i’m already going to have to do for it without writing on top of that… i reluctantly acknowledged that it just won’t be possible.

i think i’ve addressed everything… this is a little awkward now, lol.

once again, i apologise for any hurt or inconveniences i might’ve caused, but i myself don’t enjoy the idea of not writing for 5 months any better than you probably do. 0-0 i enjoy writing, it never felt like a chore to me, and i’m going to miss it during the next 5 months that i’ll be spending alone, grinding overtime like hermione granger…

please wait for me, my little liars <3

love, mother hen sumaya

[ofcrowsanddragons]

The ALT POV of the Wigmaker Job from the WIP folder 🙏

WIP Folder Game

Dialogue by Courtney Woods, based on “The Wigmaker Job” by Courtney Woods, in Tevinter Nights.

Illario’s cousin never changed. He took job after job after job, rarely stopping for a rest. Their grandmother’s orders rang constantly through Lucanis’s mind, and Illario could barely predict the few times that Lucanis would choose his little rebellions against the First Talon. The only guarantee was that it would be inconvenient for Illario.

Said cousin had planned this job: an attack on a prominent Venatori at an event that was the highlight of Vyrantium's social season. Of course, Lucanis had rented the top floor of a terrible inn, from which Illario could hear terrible music rising from the floorboards above the terrible tavern. Lucanis now sat on a hard wooden block with his weapons arranged on the bed in front of him, adding to the screeching strings of the music below with the sound of sharpening stone against steel.

On the bright side, it was clean enough that pests getting into Illario’s luggage were only moderately likely. His favourite piece was also likely to have blood on it by the end of the evening, but for now he admired the craftsmanship in the Minrathous-inspired collar and the surrounding details. The stamped navy velvet was accented with black silk, and the fine gold embroidery tumbled across his shoulders in an explosion and faded into delicate stars that fell across his midsection. The layer below the main tunic was a shimmering gold that peeked from between vents in the fabric as he walked.

Lucanis wore black.

“You’re not wearing that, are you?” asked Illario, resigned. The leather coat over a black suit may have been inconspicuous at any other event, but even then it would make him look like a servant.

Illario hated having options closed to him during a job.

“At least I don’t look like a tourist,” said the other assassin, with the faintest trace of humour in his voice.

“No, you look like you’re attending a funeral.”

“Very funny,” said Lucanis, all traces of humour gone, returning to the state of natural killing machine that Illario could tell had been killing him for years. “It’s a job. Not a party.”

“Actually,” Illario corrected, carefully checking his rogueish facial hair had the desired effect. “It’s a job at a party. Might as well look our best.”

“Any excuse to primp.”

Illario snapped his straight razor shut, hating how Lucanis sometimes sounded like their grandmother. He knew what he was good at, he completed his contracts, and they both looked down on him for that. “I’m only here because of you,” he pointed out. “We should be halfway home by now. Only ‘the Great Lucanis Dellamorte’ could delay a summons from the First Talon herself.”

Shuffling from the other side of the room, visible in the mirror. “Catarina can hardly complain,” said Lucanis, oblivious to how anyone else would suffer for saying so. “She’s the one who beat me into my commitment to my contracts.”

And here they stood, the next generation. From the cradle to the grave in Catarina’s shadow.

“All that effort and training grooming us,” he mused, “And the old woman still won’t step aside.”

“Your time will come.”

Lucanis said it like it was fact. Lucanis had been saying it for years. Lucanis had been convincing, for the longest time.

“Will it?” Illario asked, meeting Lucanis’s eyes in the mirror and willing him to understand. “People talk. You’ve always been her favourite.” You’re the only one who can tell her no.

“My talents lie elsewhere,” Lucanis said, holding up a hand and turning it over to indicate the sword and half dozen-odd daggers, now newly-sharpened. “You’re the one with the silver tongue.”

Illario didn’t want to know.

Illario needed to know.

“So, if she named you heir to House Dellamorte,” asked Illario, “You’d refuse?”

Lucanis went still, and Illario felt a flash of anger at the delay. All Lucanis knew how to do was delay, and this wasn’t a topic they could cover at home.

“Lucanis?” he pressed.

Before Lucanis moved, Illario had already realized that this was the wrong kind of stillness. His cousin had moved into the wire-taut sensory mode of a predator that meant that somebody was about to die.

His own blood rose in response, and as Lucanis reached for his sword, Illario pulled a knife from his sleeve. Illario heard a creak from the hallway and Lucanis motioned to him.

Illario said something about the quality of the hotel and the food, and Lucanis quipped back, “You ordered an Antivan dish in Tevinter. What did you expect?” He’d barely grumbled something back by the time Lucanis silently reached the wall of their room and plunged his entire sword through it—and through the Venatori eavesdropping on the other side.

Well, Illario considered, Now that sword might actually need sharpening.

[rapidhighway]

gonna vent for a sec but im so tired of this "don't wanna be an inconvenience", people pleasing shit ngl.....do people who do this know that they just come off as really rude and like... it just feels insulting each time

[ichthyorelationships]

an idea i invite anyone else to write about / run with lol....

the premise that The Change gets all messed up for alberto, say it's something that can happen from stress, &/or happens rarely and you just have to wait for it to resolve itself....used as some parallel to struggling through some emotional turbulence / upheaval / questioning / Realizing Things, etc etc

[grumpyoldsnake]

One of these days. One of these days, I will figure out what the hell makes the tipping point beyond which either a) there’s socialization that I feel insulated from and kind of numb about and too tired to pursue, or b) socialization where the very notion of so much as expressing one (1) internal thought or emotion suffuses my whole body with adrenaline and blaring Nope instincts.

[lususnatura]

blamore having to wear things like back-less shirts / lower - cut tops and just items of clothing that will allow him SOME sort of free range of movement for his tail in general + will actually not constrict his rib cage may just make him a fashion icon y'all... sorry, i don't make the rules ( nah i'm just joking around with you guys LOL... mostly )

[altruistic-meme]

back to the issue of not feeling able to talk freely with anyone in my family :'))))) woohoo.

[thepoisonroom]

as a hard of hearing girly since birth it was honestly so validating the first time i took an ASL class and found out that it's considered very rude in Deaf culture to be like "never mind, it's not important" when someone asks you to repeat something, thereby excluding them from the conversation. like it's not the worst or most impactful part of having a hearing disability by a long shot but hearing people can be so thoughtless about how bad it sucks to feel like no one else places value on your ability to participate in communal/social life and bonding and they are fine with you sitting in a corner feeling confused and dismissed and excluded

[fragglerockopinions]

.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I’m like if a feral cat and a Clydesdale had a baby