#hi yes bad timing I know but I might be offline for a while

[molsno]

I don't think there's enough discussion of the transmisogynistic voyeurism that's extremely widespread in online spaces. it's definitely a problem offline too but it's become significantly more pervasive and inescapable online.

transmisogynistic voyeurism is an obsession with trans women's internal lives. while traditionally it's usually been focused on our bodies, hormones, sexualities, transitions, and other such aspects that portray us as exotic, artificial, hypersexual mimics of "real" women (this is still largely the case among conservatives), it's taken on a new form in the past several years as society's understanding of transness has slowly improved.

in more recent years, the fascination with trans women and transfemininity, particularly in purportedly progressive spaces, has shifted to focus on the "artificiality" of our womanhood from a sociocultural perspective, rather than from a biological and sexual perspective.

it's become common to see screenshots from 4chan and other similar communities of trans women or transfem eggs posting about their unusual kinks, often with racist or antisemitic undertones. screenshots of ostensibly closeted trans women being transphobic to openly trans people have become commonplace. whenever a trans woman is revealed to be racist or a sexual predator, she becomes the new topic du jour, where everyone has to weigh in and publicly disavow her actions.

you might be thinking, what's the problem with this? after all, shouldn't we be holding racists, antisemites, transphobes, and sexual predators accountable? and while the answer to that question is an unambiguous, resounding "yes!", the problem here is the unusual focus on trans women in particular, and the fact that what's happening doesn't even remotely resemble accountability.

bigotry is not a uniquely transfeminine trait. anyone can be a bigot. however, by and large, even supposed trans allies, people who put "trans women are women" and "terfs dni" in their bio, still secretly see trans women as fundamentally male, due to having been "male socialized" (a notion which very strongly contradicts our own lived experiences). thus, when they see post after post after post of trans women being bigoted, it reifies tme people's beliefs that we are all holders of male privilege who have never had to face oppression before coming out as trans.

this idea is problematic for a number of reasons. first, it denies the experiences of trans women who have been oppressed by other systems before coming out as trans. for example, multiple times in just the past few weeks, I've seen trans women of color accused of being racist, even against people of their own race; as if having to face racism all their lives wasn't bad enough, now they're assumed to be perpetrators of it. however, this idea also ignores the very real effect that transmisogyny has had in shaping our lives, even when we didn't know we were trans ourselves.

when we attempt to talk about this topic - the perception that tme people have of trans women being uniquely bigoted, we are by and large brushed off as seeking to "excuse the actions" of bigoted trans women so that we can be bigoted ourselves. this abject refusal to actually engage with what we are saying to instead paint us as the very people we're constantly made to publicly disavow lest we face social ostracization (even if we have no idea who said people even are) further reifies the stereotype of us as privileged men.

I want you to imagine for a moment if trans men were subjected to this kind of voyeurism instead. on an average day scrolling through tumblr, you'd see a post of a trans man's nsfw blog where he shares posts about how rape should be legal, right alongside his bloodplay and cannibalism kink posts, accusing trans men of normalizing rape and murder. another post would show a screenshot of the trans guy who proclaimed to have been hitler in a past life, accompanied by comments demanding trans men take responsibility by purging their community of people like him. you'd scroll down a little further and see a screenshot of a terf blog with "dysphoric female" in bio where they complain about how a trans man they know has been brainwashed by "gender ideology" with all of the comments hoping they figure out their gender identity but still vehemently disavowing them and asserting they would feel unsafe around such a person even after coming out.

the reason that doesn't happen is because biological essentialism runs rampant even in queer spaces. trans men, who were afab, are often presumed to be incapable of harm due to having been "female socialized". trans men don't have their kinks publicly shared to paint them as dangerous because they're generally assumed to be victims of sexual violence, not perpetrators. trans men aren't collectively held accountable for the actions of one trans man they don't even know because a trans man doing harm is believed to be an anomaly, and thus can be dealt with on an individual basis. that last example is especially laughable, because trans men who were formerly terfs are often lauded as heroes for sharing their stories and offered condolences for having been victims of "cult brainwashing".

the fact that this kind of voyeurism does happen to trans women is because, having been amab, we are presumed to be the perpetrators of harm rather than victims. that's not to say that trans women can't be bigoted or dangerous; clearly they can, or else this kind of voyeurism couldn't exist in the first place.

trans women can be racist, trans women can be antisemitic, trans women can be transphobic, trans women can be sexual predators, and so on. these things are all true. however, they are not more likely to be true of trans women than of other demographics. that's the point I'm trying to make here.

stop and consider for a moment, what accountability actually means. are racist, antisemitic trans women being held accountable when you share screenshots of the bigotry they post anonymously on 4chan? does that screenshot you reblogged of an assumed transfem egg being transphobic to an out trans person hold them responsible for their transphobia? is that racist trans woman who's a convicted sexual predator sentenced to prison being held accountable when you share detailed documentaries about her crimes? are they facing consequences for their actions because of you raising awareness about them?

in the vast majority of cases, the answer is no. what's really happening is that you're raising outrage about trans women, and demanding that all of us publicly disavow and distance ourselves from them, even when we have no idea who they are, so that you won't come after us next. you're upholding the idea that trans women hold a "male privilege debt" that we can never fully repay but must endlessly strive to repay regardless. this obsession with our perceived socially male traits has got to stop.

[winterfleursblog]

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 !

☆ Pairing: Nanami x Fem!reader

☆ Genre: Fluff

☆ Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, very slight swearing. Reader was a student of Jujutsu High.

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆, 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅

Nanami as your Schoolmate

You two met in the 2nd year of Jujutsu high, and it was literally at a vending machine. That day, he was in a really bad mood, and so he was kicking the machine 'cause it won't drop his drink.

"Goddamn it! This shit isn't working" he exclaimed, and you witnessed all of these quietly. It might be weird, but you actually found him cute while sulking. Even though he looked like that one weird emo classmate you'd definitely avoid, you tapped his shoulder to give him a drink.

He was shocked when he felt your hand tap his shoulder, and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks out of embarrassment. All he could say was "thanks" before you left the scene.

Ever since that moment, you two met in the library, at the convenience store, and almost everywhere you go. It seemed weird how he is offline whenever your online game buddy is offline. You also caught him one time in the library playing your favorite game, but were too shy to approach him 'cause it seemed like he was hiding from the librarian.

One day, you saw each other in the library, and mustered up the courage to ask him, "Hey...are you user SilentAnhilator?"

This was probably the riskiest and most embarrassing thing you've ever done in your life—asking someone you're not close with and at the same time, outing yourself as a gamer.

You expected him to give you a sour look, however, you were met with a blushing teenage Nanami which you still find cute whenever you remember it.

"I....Yes"

You became friends after that incident.

The trio formed (you, Nanami, and Haibara) always went on missions together, where Nanami would remain silent. Of course, he isn't safe from your teasing and Haibara's jokes no matter where you go.

Nanami as your boyfriend

He confessed to you after a year of being colleagues. He realized that the reason he gets awkward around you is not because you were former classmates, but because he liked you.

He decided to confess his feelings after seeing you in the infirmary, heavily injured from a mission.

"Are you okay? Do you need meds? Can you stand? Please, answer me."

That was the first time you ever saw Nanami cry. You asked him why he was so worked up to the point of shedding tears, it's just a stab and a few broken bones—nothing that Shoko can't fix.

"I'll tell you why when...the time is right." He brushed that question off, but your heart was beating fast, hoping that it was more than a friend's concern.

A week later when you were fully recovered, he asked you out for dinner. There, he formally confessed his feelings like a mature man would.

"Y/n, I hope you don't feel uncomfortable, it's just that I have something to confess."

That moment, you could hear your heart beating fast.

"I like you, romantically, as a lover. At first, I didn't know why I felt nervous around you and why... my knees get weak when I see you. I thought I just saw you as a dear friend and a valuable colleague but as time passed, I started seeing you in my dreams and I could tell that it already was beyond platonic..."

You remained silent, still taken aback by his words, face flushed in red.

"...I'm sorry if this is so sudden, but can I date you? I promise to properly court you, and I definitely take relationships seriously."

Seeing you flustered and speechless, he thought he was making you uncomfortable. But in fact, you were just taking time to process your 10-year crush's confession.

"I-I'm sorry, I made my dear friend uncomfortable. I understand if you don't feel the sam—"

"I like you too" was all you could say before hugging him tightly. Immediately, he reciprocated the action by hugging back.

Since that night, he started courting you by giving gifts, talking sweetly, and doing affectionate acts of service. Of course, he remained very respectful. In fact, your first kiss happened only after 3 months of dating.

He is very good in handling his alcohol, and so he always goes with you to office parties (which is always with Jujutsu High teachers).

* f/n=your first name

(He knew that you still had a hangover from the way you typed. Right after getting on the car, he continued to tease you about drunk-flirting with him on your way to Jujutsu High.)

Nanami as your husband

Please read my previous fics to see how he proposed to you 🙏🏻

He is definitely a caring husband who wants nothing but to live a peaceful life with you.

When you two married, you immediately moved to your house in Kuantan, Malaysia. That house was planned for and built for 2 years (through mutual efforts)

Now both retired from being sorcerers, he works a simple job at a bakery down the street while you pursue your dream of being a lawyer.

Since you both decided to live a simple life, he used his savings for the past 10 years in funding your daily expenses (he still earns a constant sum from his humble job at the bakery).

One day, you got sick and he had just finished his shift at the bakery.

Notes: I love him so much I'm so delusional but I don't think I could ever find a man like him.

[problematicbots]

Winged Sentinel au: Bad ending

TW: death. Heavily Angst

Sentinel Prime, Jetfire, and Jetstorm were shopping and hanging out inside of an emporium when suddenly Sentinel got a call from Ultra Magnus from his antennae.

“Sentinel I requested you and project safeguard come to council hall urgently and immediately ” commands Ultra Magnus in a serious tone before cutting off from the signal.

Sentinel raised his non-existent eyebrow wondering what could be so urgent that Ultra Magnus didn't know how to explain the whole situation.

Sentinel didn't like this. Was this an emergency, a disaster, or something else? He needed to find out now.

“Jetfire and Jetstorm, it's time to leave; there's an emergency in the council hall, “ called Sentinel over to twins who had been playing air hockey in the corner of the emporium.

“What the emergency, Sentinel sir?!” asked Jetstorm hitting the puck into the goal with one fair hit making Jetfire let out a little “aww” while Jetstorm celebrated his win with a little “yes”

“It huh…well, it's urgent, so let's go!’ yelped Sentinel, turning towards the exit with Jetstorm and Jetfire following behind him, although Jetfire still did have a little pout on his face.

Once inside the council hall, Sentinel widened his optics to find a giant red machine with two headsets in the middle of the room. Ultra Magnus was standing to the side of the machine, accompanied by Perceptor and two guards, while the rest of the council watched overhead.

Jetstorm's face succumbed to fear when he saw the machine while Jetfire immediately placed his arm protectively in front of his brother although he was scared too as he remembered all the time similar machines like this one caused them distress.

“What the-wait, what is all this?” questioned Sentinel, narrowing his optics at the machine. “I thought I told you no more machines!”

Sentinel, instinctively, stood protectively in front of Jetfire and Jetstorm, disliking the look of this situation.

“That order has been terminated by the council” announced Ultra Magnus firmly “and so has Project Safeguard”

Sentinel gulped at the word “terminated” that came from Ultra Magnus glossa..he didn't mean what Sentinel thought he meant, right?

“Wait what do you mean terminated” questioned Sentinel as his faceplate turned pale at the implications

“We decide that project Safeguard and Vedette are both far too expensive to continue so must go for the other to continue” explained Ultra Magnus “even at the risk of not coming out of the other side exactly online considering we need the extra data from their hard drive”

These words raise shock and anger within Sentinel's Hard drive: how could his commander risk the life of two Autobots just to stay on some sorry excuse of a budget??

“So, if you don't mind, we are taking Project Safeguard,” Ultra Magnus snapped his sevros, ordering the guards to grab Jetfire and Jetstorm.

Jetfire and Jetstorm widened their optics as the guards slowly approached them with their weapons while trying their best to keep the twins low-key separated from the guards however the guards were able to get around him and grabbed the twins by the helm much to Sentinel's disgust.

“Sentinel, don't let them offline us, “ cried Jetstorm while getting pulled towards the machine with his brother, who is fighting me to get out of the guard's grip by biting their servo with his glossa.

Sentinel couldn't just stand there and watch; he knew he needed to do something, but what? Fighting since it would break so many protocols, what was he supposed to do? Take the twins' place so they can be free..wait.. that might not be half bad of an idea after all.

“Wait hold on, why don't..I gave the extra data instead, keep project safeguard and…cancel project Vedette “ gulped Sentinel not believing his saying this out his mouth

This caught everyone’s attention immediately as the guards turned to helm over to Sentinel; Perceptor starred in interest, Jetfire and Jetstorm cried in protest, Ultra Magnus’s optics widened in shock while the council was a whole chorus of gaps.

“Sentinel you’re my sub-commander you aren't seriously considering risking your life for this, are you” questioned Ultra Magnus in concern.

Sentinel gulped again, not believing that he was doing this either, but it was way better than the twins losing their lives.

“.. well sir..I don't know if you noticed but I haven't exactly the huh..you know been the best sub-commander lately and well not to mention the twins aren't fully professional in-flight unlike myself “ explained Sentinel as let out another gulp “So if you could….allow me to take their place sir “

To Ultra Magnus’s horror, the council whispers and discussion seem to be in favor of letting Sentinel take Jetfire and Jetstorm's place. With the pressure rising, Ultra Magnus followed the rest of the council's decision.

“I- very well then, guards release project to safeguard and seize… project Vedette “commands Ultra Magnus.

“No!” Protested Jetfire and Jetstorm at the same time. “Sir, you- you can't do this. Who is going to..look out for!”

However, it was far too late the guards pushed the twins to the side before seizing Sentinel and tossing the prime into the machine.

“Well…I'm sure Jazz well…I huh trust him but for now, look out for each other ok “Yelp Sentinel over to the twins before getting restrained to the machine and the headset attached to his helm.

Jetfire and Jetstorm both keep screaming “no” as they try to reach over to stop Sentinel from doing what he is doing. Unfortunately, they are blocked by Ultra Magnus's hammer as the commander hesitantly pulls out a remote, which he points at the machine with a shaky servo.

“A-any last requests? “ questioned Ultra Magnus with his digitals hovering over the giant red button on the remote.

“ Well, Actually, yes, you let Jetfire and Jetstorm live their lives just like any other bot and never bother them ever again, understand?” replied Sentinel seriously.

A murmur of astonishment swept through the council as they huddled together, whispering fervently about the implications of Sentinel’s audacious request.

“you wouldn't decline the request of a dying Autobot, would you?” questioned Sentinel in a dark tone. “So Let them be free”

This strikes a core within Ultra Magnus: of course, he doesn't want to delay the request of a dying Autobot even someone like him has his morals so despite the obscurity of the request, he decides to accept.

“I- of course not, request accepted and..” Ultra Magnus choked for a bit before continuing. “Goodbye Sentinel Prime”

Jetfire and Jetstorm screech in horror as Ultra Magnus presses the button, sending an electric shock through Sentinel's body. The shock extracts all the data from his hard drive connected to the helmet, and Sentinel lets out blood-curdling screams of agony.

Sentinel watched as his entire life flashed before his optics: the boot camp, the academy, and his friendships with Optimus and Elita. He reflected on the fallout from those friendships, joining the elite guard, and the strong bonds he formed with the twins. The only regret he had was wishing he could have done better with any of these as he felt his spark finally give out.

Once the machine was finished, Sentinel's lifeless body collapsed onto the ground, causing Jetfire and Jetstorm to cry out in grief as they managed to move around Ultra Magnus’s hammer toward Sentinel’s body, where they kneeled in sorrow.

“Sentinel! No.. please wake up, “ cried Jetstorm, sobbing in his faceplate onto the prime’s chest. “Please”.

Jetfire was holding around the prime’s helm, trying to shake him back online while crying, “Come back please” over and over again..however, it was pointless; Jetfire, at that moment, knew that their leader was gone.

“He’s gone, Jetstorm…he’s GONE!” cried Jetfire in anger and cried before dropping Sentinel’s helm and bolting out of the room, passing by Ultra Magnus and Perceptor.

“Jetfire! Wait! “ cried Jetstorm, running after his brother, leaving Ultra Magnus and Perceptor to deal with the corpse of Sentinel.

Jetstorm rushed down a long hallway, searching for his brother, when he noticed a small trail of fire on the floor. Recognizing that his brother was responsible, he immediately followed it.

The tail of fire led Jetstorm into a dim hallway where Jetfire was in the corner punching the wall in rage while his whole body was burning like a raging inferno that destroyed anything in its path.

“IT'S NOT FAIR! IT IS NOT FAIR! IT'S NOT FAIR!” screamed Jetfire, punching the wall multiple times in a row.

Jetstorm watched in concern as their brother's flame burned brighter than any spark out there, and at that moment, he needed to be there for him.

So by holding his breath, Jetstorm created a rainstorm around his body to protect himself from the flames as he approached his brother with open arms while fighting against the raging inferno.

“IT’S NOT-” Before Jetfire could finish his sentence, he was pulled into a tight hug that cooled his flames down.

“I know it is not fair..it will never be fair for us, but we had to keep going for Sentinel..” cried Jetstorm, hugging his brother tightly. “And well..I miss him too”.

Jetfire’s flames disappear into nothingness as he buries himself into the hug never wanting to let go of his brother.

“It’s just that..well I finally thought for a moment we could be a full family again, you know with me, you, and Sentinel but I guess that..over now ” cried Jetfire sobbing into his shout

“We can still be family, we still have each other, and we still have Jazz with us. We just need to find him “ whimpered Jetstorm comforting his brother by wiping the tears off his faceplate.

Hope flashed across Jetfire optics: Jazz is the coolest Cybertronian out there, if anybody was going to help them out it would be him.

“Y-yes you're right we just need to find Jazz and everything will be ok” exhaled Jetfire finally calm “Let's find him”

After hugging for a bit longer the two finally split apart before running towards Jazz's dojo with genuine hope in their spark that things were going to get better.

Once inside Jazz’s dojo, their optics widened when they realized that the Cyber-Ninja wasn't there; instead, there was a note on the equipment.

Jetstorm grabbed the note from the equipment and began reading it with his brother. Their faceplates turned pale as they realized the note's commitment, which read:

“Dear SP, I fear my and other's safety has been put at risk due to the current state of the elite guard so this will be my last day before I take my leave to earth. “

-Jazz

Jetfire and Jetstorm couldn't believe this: Jazz was gone too leaving them by themselves once again.

“H-he left us” sobbed Jetstorm with his servos shaking while Jetfire stared at the note in resentment.

“Well, who needs him anyway? We still have each, just like you say,” replied Jetfire, taking the note and crumpling it up in boiled-up anger.

This much to Jetfire's spark break didn't make Jetstorm feel better as a burst of wind surrounded his brother as tears fell from his faceplate.

“It's just that…I thought he was different you know just like Sentinel ….I mean, Sentinel trusted him, and he just threw away..” cried Jetstorm as the wind around him began to speed up fast.

Jetfire widened his optics in dread as he saw his brother floating in the middle of a mini tornado that was tossing everything around the dojo.

This was that moment when Jetfire realized that was his turn to comfort his brother so with zero hesitation he jumped into the tornado and hugged his brother slowing down the wind speed on the progress.

“Jazz may have broken Sentinel's trust, but we won't. I swear the all spark one day this will all feel like a nightmare that will fade away I promise “ cried Jetfire as his brother slowly backed down to the floor as the winds disappeared into nothingness

For a moment they just sobbed into each other arms with nothing other than pain and agony in their spark.

“I-I wanted to go home.. but I don't know if we even had that anymore, “ whimpered Jetstorm.

“Then we will find a home for now let's just get out of here..” replied Jetfire leading his brother out of the dojo

Jetstorm nodded, and together they left Fort Maximus with no plan, no destination, no leader, and no one else by their side—only each other against the world, just like always.

________________________________________

Inside a rundown Inn, Jazz sat down at the corner table of a bar with a glass of oil in his servo: he ended up not going to Earth after all since there was a guilt feeling preventing him from simply borrowing a ship towards Earth so instead he end booking here spending a few days hoping that all everything will eventually cool down.

He was about to take a sip of oil when suddenly a news broadcast flashed across a monitor overhead catching everyone’s attention.

“Breaking News the sub-commander of the Autobots Sentinel prime been found offline floating in space, investigation into his cause of death is ongoing and his memorial service will be held inside of Fort Maximus later today “ announced the new anchor on the scene.

Jazz's spark dropped when he heard the news: he couldn't believe this Sentinel was offline and he couldn't help but feel his spark swim in guilt that he happened to quit right after his death without even having a proper conversation with the prime.

His optics as he watched the bar turned into mutters of rumors surrounding the sub-commander's seemingly mysterious death.

“Space, what was that hothead doing in space” questioned one black mech in a whisper.

“I bet he got offline by mercenaries” rumored one violent femme.

“Or what if it was the cons and they are planning to attack!” Gulped one red mech in fear

Jazz, however, didn't have time for rumors as he quickly got up from his seat and bolted over to Fort Maximum to see if this was true.

Once he was there and was able to find the correct room his optics widened in horror. At the scene, in front of him were multiple aisles of chairs that were standing in front of a platform that had the casket of Sentinel's shell inside, and next to the casket Stood Ultra Magnus on a podium.

Jazz couldn't believe this…Sentinel Prime was dead and guilt hit him like a stab in the spark feeling like he could have done something to stop all of this from happening.

Well, the least he could do now was attend his service so he scanned around for an empty seat only to realize the only helm that he recognized aside from Ultra Magnus himself, was Longarms, Optimus and his crew who were in the front left row while the rest of the attendants seem to be either from the media or curious cybertronian taking pictures.

With a small sign, he begins heading towards the front row to sit with Optimus and the crew. However, before he could reach the front row, he heard a familiar voice in the right middle row that caught his attention.

“YOU!” hissed the familiar voice dropping in pure hate at the sight of the cyber ninja’s presence at the memorial service.

Jazz turned his helm in the direction of the voice to find that it belonged to Jetfire who was sitting next to a sniffing Jetstorm who was wearing his tears away with his sevros .

“Oh..huh hi Jet-” Before Jazz could awkwardly greet the twins, Jetfire jumped from his seat And punched Jazz’s square in his faceplate knocking him straight down on the ground.

Immediately, everyone in the memorial service turned their attention to the commotion, with some attendants with jaw drops on the floor while others took pictures or recorded the whole scene with cameras.

Optimus and the rest of the crew quickly rushed over to Jazz's side to help him up while Jetstorm stood at Jetfire's side, although he was stunned at his brother's actions.

“THIS IS ALL YOU FAULT!” shouted Jetfire, pointing to Jazz's faceplate while Jazz started at back him startled.

Optimus, seeing Jetfire was about to throw another punch, jumped in between Jazz and Jetfire to prevent a fight from breaking out.

“Listen, I don't know who you are, but it isn't a time for a fight.. follow, Autobot just died today, and we should be respectful, not at each other's throats, “ Spoked Optimus, gently blocking Jetfire's punch.

Ultra Magnus wanted to step in, but he decided to just watch, believing Optimus could cool this down before either party could take things too far.

“Oh you don't think I know that Mr Hero!” shouted Jetfire with an angry laugh “You had no idea what Sentinel meant to us and how Jazz, Ultra Magnus, and everyone else left us out there to rot”

Optimus Prime widened his optics in surprise at this: did Sentinel was able to form new bonds, were these his new friends, and what did he mean by left to rot?

“What do you mean by that? “ questioned Optimus looking between Jazz and Jetfire.

Jetfire signaled for Jetstorm to hand him something, which Jetstorm reluctantly agreed to. Before doing so, he whispered to his brother to be careful. This turned out to be Jazz's resignation note, which Jazz glanced at in horror.

“Sentinel Prime here was the only one that didn't give up on us..he even updated himself to be a jet to teach us how to fly,” explained Jetfire. “And before he…went offline he trusted Jazz to supervise us”

The media cameras keep flashing, capturing the note as gossip spreads throughout the room, with everyone eager to know what Jetfire will say next.

“But when we went to his dojo instead of finding hope in Jazz, we found this note” sniffed Jetfire “Jazz here.. abandoned us!”

The media gasped in disgust as some began writing the events down on their Datapads, while Optimus stared around in confusion and shock, trying to make sense of everything that was coming out of Jetfire’s glossa.

“What..hold on you two saw him go offline in space” questioned Optimus a bit taken aback

“Oh none of you know what really happened to Sentinel do you?” replied Jetfire putting away the note. “you all believe that space story “

Ultra Magnus horror-stricken realized that Jetfire would reveal Sentinel's true fate. He finally decided to intervene after watching for so long.

“THAT IS ENOUGH, EVERYONE BACK TO THEIR SEAT NOW!” shouted Ultra Magnus, his booming voice echoing off the walls of the room. “IF YOU DON'T MIND, WE HAVE A MEMORIAL TO PROGRESS WITH “.

Immediately everyone in faded silence followed Ultra Magnus's orders as they returned to their seats with Optimus and crew helping the injured Jazz sit down in the front row. However, not everyone followed Ultra Magnus's orders since Jetfire and Jetstorm were standing their ground, staring at the commander with draggers in their optics.

“Say that one who killed him “ hissed Jetfire boldly pointing at the commander's chest plate with no fear in his spark.

Everyone in the room gasped at Jetfire’s words while Optimus turned his helm at Ultra Magnus with a look of disbelief and yet betrayal across the faceplate.

This struck a core in Ultra Magnus’s spark as he without thinking raised his hammer high in anger at the nerve of this jet.

“I’VE SAID THAT ENOUGH!” shouted Ultra Magnus, slamming his hammer against the floor with such force that it caused the ground to shake. The impact created cracks that spread from the floor up to the ceiling.

Everyone watched in absolute horror as the room quickly fell apart, like a sandcastle, with more cracks appearing on the walls every second.

“EVERYONE OUT NOW!” shouted Optimus, rolling out of his seat as a piece of the ceiling came crashing down from above.

The room was filled with screams as everyone rushed to safety. Unfortunately, the crack spread beyond that room, and Fort Maximus collapsed inward. Optimus and his crew tried to keep everyone calm and lead them safely out of the building; however, the chaos made it impossible for anyone to hear above the noise of blood-curdling screams

The scene was pure chaos as Cybertronians pushed each other aside to get ahead. They transformed into their vehicle modes to move faster, while some fell through the collapsing floor or were crushed by falling debris. Unfortunately, not all of them could be saved despite Optimus' crew's rescue efforts.

During the middle of this chaos, Jazz couldn't find Jetfire or Jetstorm anywhere within the crowd, he tried yelling their name however it a overshadowed by the many other screams, and with the floor behind quickly collapsing he had no choice other than to move forward.

Eventually, Jazz managed to escape Fort Maximus, running many feet away from the building with a few others.

He scanned the area looking for Jetfire and Jetstorm only to find they weren't there; most of everyone else he knew was there..at least the ones who survived, like Optimus, Prowl, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Ratchet, Longarms Ultra Magnus, and Cliffjumper.

However, Jetfire and Jetstorm were nowhere to be found, making Jazz have a horrible realization: they were still inside the collapsing building.

Jazz quickly transformed into his vehicle mode as he raced quickly towards Fort Maximus in an attempt to save the twins; however, it was far too late as he watched in horror to watch the once mighty building collapse into dust, leaving nothing behind aside large chunks of debris in its place.

“No! Jetfire and Jetstorm!” cried Jazz, jumping on top of the debris and digging into it in nothing other than pure desperation.

The only thing Jazz could find that reminded him of the twins were Jetstorm’s shades covered in debris, which he clutched against his chest plate with regret.

“I-I'm sorry, guys,” cried Jazz on his knees. “I should have given you a chance”.

Jazz sobbed as his spark and the world around him turned into a pit of despair he would never escape, losing something he never knew he wanted: A chance to get to know Jetfire and Jetstrom before they were gone from his life for good.

(Bad ending unlock )

[krypt-kir]

For a friend who cares

A short little drabble for a friend who feels like their words aren't effective.

Main: Bash/Mixtape!BF (Mine), YS/HitSingle!Yourself (@ochrearia) Mentioned: Beef (@gemharvest)

---------------------

Bash had another nearly sleepless night. Beef was still passed out on the sofa, and he was sitting on the floor with the coffee table in front of him, holding his phone and scrolling through the pictures he took last night.

They had a lot of fun together. Being rowdy and letting loose. Something about nighttime just felt more freeing. No worries about what we need to do while the sun is still out. No errands you could possibly run when everything has closed. No one who'd call you up for anything unless it's an emergency.

It was nice to forget about being an adult for a while.

There was a brief ache in Bash's chest at that thought. The idea he'd lose that sense of fun.

He glanced at Beef.

There could be a day where they grow apart.

He held his phone a little tighter, pushing the thoughts away and getting up. He hoped that brief blip of sorrow wasn't noticable to YS. That guy had enough to worry about as it was. He didn't need more to worry about and it would make him feel like shit.

He went to the bathroom to wash his face when he saw YS staring back at him with a disappointed look. Crap.

"Uhh…heyyy…" Bash smiled awkwardly, knowing he was about to get chewed out.

"Staying up late isn't good for you. Y'know that, right?" The other said.

Yeah. Bash knew that. God. This felt like being chewed out by his parents a little bit. "What can I say? I'm a night owl." He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to pass it off as joking with a chuckle.

"Bash, this is serious. When was the last time you had a proper sleep schedule?" YS folded his arms.

Oh. He really wasn't gonna get out of this one, huh? This wasn't just some silly one-and-done forget about it confrontation. This was an intervention. "I mean I might stay up late but I get 7 hours at least on most days." He figured it wasn't that bad if he's getting the right chunk of sleep. Might not be at a good hour but it felt like a reasonable compromise to him.

"I know you wake up earlier than your alarm unless you're sleep deprived. Your group chat messages for the past week. They show you're only offline for 4-5 hours every night." YS said firmly.

Bash's smile faltered a little. He knew he wasn't the most responsible adult but this just felt a little…

"Disappointed in yourself?" He cut Bash's thoughts off with a dagger. Ouch. YS must've realized because his expression furrowed a little differently. Less of disappointment and more of worry. "Shit- sorry."

"No. You're right." Bash sighed, dropping the jokester act. He didn't feel like keeping it up if the facade was already seen through. Couldn't hide anything from this guy. "I should act like the adult that I am."

Something about saying that outloud felt a lot worse.

"Fuck, dude-" YS winced a little. Regret immediately washed over Bash. God, it was hard to hide things here.

"Sorry, I-" Bash knew YS meant well, but goddamnit if he could silence the hurt so YS didn't feel it, he would.

"No, no. Forget I said anything." YS said, turning away.

"Wait-!"

Bash was met with his regular reflection.

He sighed and rubbed his face. Yes, he felt tired. Yeah, a little bit physically, but having your emotions read like it was a big old stoplight on his head felt exhausting after being so used to just hiding it. Being overly emotional never helped anyone. Not in Bash's experience.

Back when he and Pico first started dating, he'd do the same thing. Stay up way too late texting with him. It was fun, and he'd pass out with the last thing on his mind being the time they shared. After a long day of boring classes he didn't care about and doing chores around the house, it was his way of winding down.

It wasn't like he didn't see the downsides of it. He was just willing to make the sacrifice. He could sleep during class and take naps after doing his chores while Pico's still studying. Bash didn't particularly care about his homework and he'd do it during lunch anyway since Pico helped him. It was his own system and he thought it worked great.

But now that he was an adult, it felt more like an addictive cycle. His coworkers could tell when Bash has another late night. They'd bring it up. He'd have a cup of coffee and end up too caffeinated to sleep later. He stays up, has fun, and tries to stay up even longer till he's too tired to speak or type coherently. He'd wake up tired. People notice. Repeat.

He knew it wasn't healthy and he needed to break out of it hard and fast.

But it's always the first step that's the hardest, isn't it? Committing to it.

Bash washed his face. He felt a bit better, but not by much. His heart still weighed heavy, and he wanted to apologize to YS. Tell him the truth. Right now he knew YS was overthinking things. Maybe that he overstepped or caused Bash to feel hurt when it's not true at all.

YS was right when he brought up Bash was disappointed in himself. When your bad habits are laid out, anyone would feel guilty of it. Bash caused his own hurt by making bad choices. He needed that intervention or he wouldn't stop. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't the first time either. YS tried before and he didn't listen.

Bash tried to suppress the guilt that twisted in him, but he was terrible at it. Yes, this was the push he needed. Not all change was comfortable, and he knew that all too well. Didn't make it easy, but he'd live.

It wasn't much, but he set a few alarms for later tonight. Added an extra hour to his estimated sleep time to see if that does anything different, though a part of him believed it wouldn't change much.

He smiled a little to himself. He probably never would've taken the first step if it wasn't for his other self stepping in.

He hoped YS wasn't beating himself up about it. That was the last thing he wanted. Humans were complicated, and just detecting emotions didn't make YS a mind reader. Bash needed to explain himself and talk it out.

He sent YS a text.

(Hey, are you ok?}

----------

Not really used to writing other people's characters. Gave it a shot here, but I don't think it came out right. Wrote this all out and I'm not gonna re-read just cuz I'm gonna get embarrassed and chicken out of posting it.

Gonna be gone for a little bit so if I don't respond to comments right away just know I'm out doing errands lol

[sofia-not-sophie]

In honor of Jason's death day I am posting a bit of a wip that will eventually turn into a Red Hood Bruce AU. (Yes there is only half an hour left today shhhh). Let me know if anyone would be interested in reading more of this kind of thing!! (Character Death tw for the whole of the text coming up, also minor panic attack of a non pov character)

Presenting:

Crossing That Line

Dick frantically punched his security code and the code for the watchtower into the zeta. Batman had sent multiple distress signals using his justice league and batcave beacon in the last ten seconds. Then all of his biometrics trackers went offline and new distress beacons stopped coming in. Bruce had been dealing with a justice league level threat for the past few days, so Dick had been taking the opportunity of a Bruce-less manor to spend time with Jason. He wasn’t looking forward to staying to babysit an injured Bruce, but at the same time Bruce was his sort of not really dad, right?

Dick wasn’t sure how long he had frozen once he saw the biometrics readings stop, but his training kicked in eventually and he was now on his way to see what he could do to help. Even if that was just standing by while someone else handled Bruce’s injuries.

He reached the watchtower and ran to the medical wing. The Justice League were all inside. Superman was sitting in a chair with yellow sunlamps trained on him, a bloody set of tears marring his suit, clearly his own blood, as Dick could see the injuries on his skin slowly healing themselves under the sunlight. He looked quite literally green around the gills, kryptonite then.

The others were around in various states of injured, but none of them were as severe as Superman’s injuries. Flash was helping Green lantern wrap a wound that probably had already been stitched up, but everyone else looked fine.

Then Dick noticed that Diana was standing at the end of a bed that had a sheet over it. There was clearly a body underneath. And Batman was the only person unaccounted for.

“Dick.” Clark said, his voice breaking.

Dick couldn’t say anything, he wordlessly moved over to the bed and pulled back the sheet. The cowl was still over Bruce’s face but it was severely damaged. Burns and scrapes and soot covered what parts of his face were visible. Dick put his ear by where Bruce’s heart should be and listened for a heartbeat.

Nothing.

Dick checked Bruce’s pulse.

Nothing.

“What happened?” Dick asked, becasue if he didn’t he might just get lost in his own thoughts and memories.

“Lex and the Joker.” Clark said, “They were making some sort of space laser together. I’m not sure to what end. I went to confront them while the others handled the guards. B, he went to dismantle the weapon. But there was a failsafe bomb. We couldn’t— We weren’t able to get to him. Not until after.”

A beep sounded someone arriving at the zeta station. A few seconds later Jason burst in in his full Robin outfit. Wait, Dick was still in his sweatpants. Not even a mask. What would Bruce say?

Dick wished he could hear Bruce tell him off for being in civilian clothes in the watchtower.

“I saw the distress record and your zeta logs.” Jason said, “What happened?”

“Jason.” Dick started and stopped, trying to put himself in between Bruce’s body and Jason.

“Can I at least see B? He’s my dad too you know.”

“Jason something really bad happened.” Dick felt the words spill out.

“What’s wrong? Where’s B?”

“He’s gone, Little Wing.” Dick bent down slightly to meet Jason’s eyes, or rather the white lenses of his mask, at level.

“No! He can’t be. He’s Batman.” Jason then seemed to notice Bruce’s still uncovered face on the bed. Jason ran the same tests that Dick had, adding in checking for breath fog on the edge of a batarang for good measure.

Jason finally pulled the sheet back over Bruce’s head and turned from the bed, he looked about three shades paler than normal. His breathing was racing and Dick noticed Clark looking at Jason with concern.

Shit. What did Bruce normally do to help with the panic attacks?

Dick silently tugged Jason to sit on the floor with his back against a wall. “Breathe, Jay. It’s gonna be alright.”

“Where am I going to go?” Jason whispered, still in a panic. It seemed to be more to himself than to Dick but Dick answered anyway.

“Breathe. You’re not going anywhere. You stay at the manor, I’ll move back in. You’re not going to get kicked out. Can you take a deep breath with me?”

Dick guided Jason’s hand to the front seam of the Robin costume so he could feel his own diaphragm move. Dick counted as he breathed in and out and slowly Jason’s breaths started to match his own.

“He’s gone.” Jason whispered.

Dick didn’t know what to say.

“How do we tell Alfred?”

Dick hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I can tell him.” Clark said, “You kids shouldn’t have to worry about that.”

Dick nodded. Where was his voice? Part of him wanted to say that he should deliver it, he’s family, or maybe that he wasn’t a kid anymore.

“What do we do then?” Jason asked.

“Let’s go home and get you into some pajamas.” Clark said.

“I don’t want to leave him.” Dick said, looking at the sheet covering Bruce. “Alfred should have codes for the zeta to use in case of this specific issue. Have him bring the contingency files for a code dark night.”

Clark nodded and stood up. He still looked uneasy on his feet, but he got Jason to the zeta point. The rest of the League took the hint and made themselves scarce, leaving Dick alone with Bruce.

The sense of deja vu was sickening. It brought him back to the first minutes after his parents’ fall. Dick was the first one to get to them and for what felt like hours it was just him and his parents’ bodies in the middle of the ring. It hadn’t actually been that long until there were police and someone else in the circus, Dick couldn’t even remember who, was pulling him away and trying to comfort him. And then there was Bruce. Who Dick had talked to briefly that day, back then he had just been a random stranger offering condolences. Now…

Dick looked back at the sheet.

Bruce was dead.

What the hell was Dick supposed to do now?

[kawaakari-orchestra]

KWKO announcement: story progress, voting, birthday announcements and more!

Hi! Jay here.

I'm happy to say that, despite the recent lack of activity (as well as a bad flare up on my side and subsequent burn-out, but, you know, what happens, happens) I'm still working on writing the story! Mid-August deadline might be pushing it at this point because of all the difficulties, but hey, baby steps.

However...

Here's a topic to discuss: formatting. Yes, again.

Originally my idea was hosting everything as a literature for Toyhouse; however, I somewhat overestimated my prowess with HTML language (which is none, by the way). As a result the pages... Work, for the most part, but they're somewhat wonky depending on your screen resolution, and might not look exactly aesthetically pleasing if you're unlucky.

In addition, nothing works on the mobile yet. While I have some confidence I'm able to make the text, if for nothing else, readable at the cost of aesthetics, due to Toyhouse-specific code issues, I probably wouldn't be able to make it pleasant to read.

I'm predominantly a mobile user due to my disability and I consider everything being accessible from mobile to be an issue of accessibility. I was originally planning to bypass the issue with either a mobile accessible page (proven to be harder than I expected) or visual images gallery accessible from google drive (not accessible from screen readers). Now with Toyhouse being as unwieldy as it is, I'm wondering if just google drive is the way to go.

I'm still caught in the dilemma, but I also want to hear what other people have to say! This might just help me sort out my priorities. No results option. You fall for what you stand for. If you don't care, feel free to choose whatever.

Here's a list for pros and cons, if you're curious:

Toyhouse

• Easier navigation;

• Eventual character pages up and accessible from, ideally, all literature pieces;

• Will likely be google-able;

• Able to select and copy text, if that's your thing;

• Easier for me to fix typos and issues;

• More aesthetic and orderly in general;

- Likely not mobile accessible;

- Likely to break visually on some devices; majorly an issue of spacing;

- I'm just so bad at it to be honest.

Google docs

• Uniform format for everyone;

• More visual standardisation;

• More reliable as far as third-party storage goes;

• Downloadable to read offline!

- Very hard to navigate, if possible at all;

- Much harder for me personally to maintain;

- Not as private or anonymous for reading;

- No copying the text directly as those are just images fixed in place.

You don't need an account to use either of those, as far as I'm aware. What it'll be? (A pain for me to deal with, in any case. Why am I doing this to myself?)

Happy birthday, Kozaki Karin!

That's right! Today, on August 4th (in some timezones still), Kozaki Karin celebrates her birthday! 🎉

Let's wish her a good one!

We've received a shocking amount of fanart; I'll be reblogging it on here shortly after releasing the birthday menu lines! Thank you everyone!

Our next birthday party will occur on September 30th, this time for Kaedehara Akari! I'll make my priority to make information like this public ahead of time; I've learned my lesson.

Until next time!

- 🌻

[apriilessthan3]

social anxiety online

i used to have rly bad social anxiety online and after the social anxiety talk during aksel's stream yesterday i decided to compile some things that have helped me feel more comfortable interacting with people online. also, yes this is a little bit inspired by aksel's comfort media tumblr post :p

twitch

i think the easiest way to start getting yourself out there online is by chatting during streams. you could start by only sending emotes in chat. a lot of emotes are bttv emotes so make sure you have bttv installed. there is also a bttv setting that allows you to tab emotes, so you won't have to type them out completly. usually the chat reacts to certain parts of the stream the exact same way, so you could copy the emotes you see in chat. i would sometimes even wait for other people to start sending emotes and then i would just copy them lol. it's a nice way to get yourself out there while still also being hidden in the crowd. since everyone is sending the same emotes you won't stand out.

once you feel a bit more comfortable sending emotes you could try sending some chat messages. i feel like this is easier to do when the chat is moving fast, since there is a smaller chance of standing out and getting unwanted attention from anyone really. also sending small messages like 'hi' or 'bye' to people is another way to move on from only sending emotes.

i know social anxiety also entails a lot of observing, so if this is too much for you right now that's fine! look at what other people are doing and you will get a hang of the vibe eventually. then whenever you feel comfortable you could start chatting, if you want to obviously.

twitter

i wanted to include twitter in here too, because i think that sense of community mostly happens on twitter. another reason is because twitter is a lot scarier compared to a twitch chat, in my experience at least. so i thought it might be helpful to share how i got over that anxiety on twitter.

by being on twitter, you're being a lot more vulnerable i feel like. in comparison to a twitch chat where you are all in one chat, on twitter you're kind of on your own. they're your tweets, it's your profile.. it is a lot more personal is what im trying to say. the aksually mental illness community can be a great start to find people. i personally don't go much in there, but i've seen some people posting in there regularly. by interacting with those people you can start building your own 'network' online and finding friends! follow people, like tweets and maybe even comment under people's tweets if you feel like you're able to do that. i remember being so anxious about replying to people's tweets. sometimes i even had to put my phone down after replying because it gave me so much anxiety. at the same time i think that also helped me in a way. it is ok to send a tweet, close ur phone and act like nothing even happened. this can be hard, but closing twitter after something so anxiety inducing, i think, can help you not to overthink your actions.

after a while you'll start to realize that it might not be as scary as you thought it would be. also there is a lot of sweet and kind people online. i am forever thankful to the people, who i would now call friends, in this community who accepted me with open arms. sometimes it only takes one person to be kind to you, for you to realize it is all ok.

i hope this was helpful in some kind of way. social anxiety can be so isolating. it can make it really hard to navigate your way in life, whether that is online or offline. getting yourself out there online can be the first steps to overcoming or at least lessening that anxiety, and i wish that for everyone who's also struggling with it. <3

[vossn]

tagged by @swanfloatieknight tysm!!! 💚

Are you named after anyone? It's a 50/50 tie up between "named myself after myself" (will not elaborate) and "named after a Bloodborne boss". My ex noted this down as "I am unsure how to feel about this considering how many times I have killed you."

Do you have kids? Two sons, one named Marian with behavioral problems (a very long cat plush) and one adopted one named Frank (Bison plush) but he lives with his other dad. I don't have any human ones and I don't intend to do anything about it.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Online, yes, offline not as much.

When was the last time you cried? Briefly at the medieval fair, because I was explaining to someone how my dissociation has gotten better but there are some things that I might lose after coming to terms with who I am. I jokingly referred to it as "the fog" but when I said something along the lines of "I know it will cost me, but I don't care, I am not going back into the fog ever again" I was crying all of a sudden. I caught myself after 3 seconds.

What’s the first thing you notice about other people? Any notable features in the face that aren't the eyes. With most people in my life I have no idea what their eye colour is.

Eye colour? green-brown

What sports do you/have played? I dabbled in everything as a kid, Karate, Zumba, I did nothing for long. When I got older I first picked up running, then swimming, then lifting weights and kept with those for a long while. I fell off the train when I started uni and did archery for a while, I am now getting back into swimming and will also pick up weights again at some point.

Any special talent? I seem trustworthy. This means drunks, old people, and people in distress like to tell me their secrets even when we have known each other for a total of 3 seconds. It doesn't sound like much of a talent but it really works and its so random. Oftentimes the people I am talking to will pause and will ask themselves "why am i even telling you this?" and buddy I don't know.

Where were you born? Germany

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy ending

Do you have any pets? no

How tall are you? 6 ft / 183 cm

What are your hobbies? writing, drawing, crafting of all kinds, long walks, playing the accordion, botany, perfume

Favorite subject in school? English and Art

Dream job? This is a very bad time to ask me because brother, I will do anything as long as its preferably remote and not in customer service. I am that desperate to get out of academia.

Tagging @definitely-not-iorveth @between-thepages @kiriele <3 no pressure

[alwida10]

Hi. I'm not sure what's going on right now, I just saw you had a mean anon lately and it seems you're going through hard times.

I will admit I've definitively made some assumptions about you and not always been the nicest when discussing some posts of yours with friends. But just because I found some things you said offensive doesn't mean I think you are a bad person. Words we say often take a life of their own in other poeple's head. Also anger and hurt makes us all agressive and without a filter. On both sides.

There is a lot of gossip in the Loki fandom, but behind the vitriol, some poeple care about you and are genuinely worried when things seem hard. Whether it's about you or other "antis" recieving hate anons (sadly the whole point of anons is that we'll never know for sure who sent them). We're also not stupid, a lot of poeple who are angry have been through hell in their life and healing will always be far more important than fandom wank.

I just wanted to say you deserve to feel safe and to have a space where you can express yourself, even if it won't make everyone happy. Poeple are free to block you, or ignore your posts if they end up in their recommended section. Nothing has ever been achieve with hate and petty games.

Sending you my best wishes.

A cowardly anon ^^

Thank you! This message made me cry, in a good way. 💚 thank you for your kindness!

And yes, you are right in many ways. We never know who the anons are, and I admit that in my mind I tend to conflate them, assuming most are from one single person, who just never knows when to stop.

When I first came to tumblr, I found the anon-function weird. I thought “we are on the internet. We are already anonymous!”, but I guess that’s not entirely true. While this sphere is (more or less) separated from our offline life, nobody is free from expectations of their mutuals, followers, and even critics. And since we all get trained to act according to the expectations people have, some things would never get said without the anon function. But being anonymous brings forth how we really are in that moment. And hurt, stress or rage has made me say bad things in the past, too. That said, at most times I DO mourn the split in the fandom, and I am aware that echo chambers make opinions grow more extreme. So, should you come across something I have written which is offensive, please let me know, so I can check if I’m a victim of my own rage once more, worded things badly, or applied faulty reasoning. You can always point me this post if you fear a harsh answer, so I will remember I, too, was gifted with kindness.

I am sure we all just wished the fandom wasn’t so torn apart and everyone could thrive in the community. I admit, the only other fandom I participated in was supernatural, so my expertise isn’t the best, but I would bet any day that the Loki fandom is full of people who take strength from his story for their own healing and growth. So, in a way it’s even more heartbreaking that there is so much fighting about him. Because interpretations of his motives and morality are never just that. They can always be perceived as an invalidation of another person’s suffering or healing or hopes. And while you might be able to cope with an attack of an fictional story, an attack of one’s trauma or hope is much more personal.

So, yeah. It’s always better to take a step back, remember this isn’t about oneself alone, and that beyond the screen other people are humans, too, and deserve the benefit of a doubt. 💚

Also, i kinda think it’s a shame there is so little communication between the “two sides”. The last debate opened a new perspective for me, and helped me to put some things back into context. Sometimes I wish for a friend on “the other side” to discuss things in a appreciative way, where no one tries to convince the other or feels the need to defend their view. Just a comparison of perspectives, to open up new points nobody considered yet. There could be a lot of cool meta buried there. But alas, I guess the topic is too close to the heart for most of us, and I don’t exclude myself there.

[topioswords]

Reasons

It is his sleep cycle, technically, but he really doesn’t need a full four hours recharging. So he had slipped off to poke around at the as-of-yet unregistered dark and dank corners of the hidden collection again. Figuratively speaking dank of course, everything was reading fine values, he made sure to check, seeing as he was there anyway, and if you’re gonna snoop around you might as well keep things in order.

It wasn’t exactly a busy period. Mondays they were closed to the public so that helped, but even the staff was having a pretty lazy day. Nobody had any reason to need him, so he had time to study the tiny carved ivory tokens that weren't quite spectacular enough to be displayed, or whatever the reason was they were down here. They were stolen, probably, there were no notes in the registry about how the previous owner had acquired them before generously donating them along with a good chunk of other dubious collectibles. But he had his theories. His regular checkup for any pings, alerts or other notable activity didn’t bring anything back, just like the last 47 minutes. 

And then they did.

It wasn’t anything official. Coworkers were chatting, but it mentioned his station and… well it was only fair he read it, if it was about him, right? He rolls the stream of messages back a bit, to get the whole thing.

Ano.GK

FUCK yes finally

Bek

??

Ano.GK

management finally agreed the dumb bot over at section H is a nuisanse

Bek

oh, wait, the one that gets people banned all the time?

Ano.GK

YES!!!

Bek

Thought they’d fixed it

Ano.GK

i wishk

they tried

had to call in favors for a whole damn week while they tried resetting the damn thing

Got back and like, 4 days later right back at it

Keeps going awol and make a mess

Bek

Urgh annoying

Ano.GK

you have NO idea

but after the scissor incident and that thing last week they FINALLY see my point. 

i can retire it at last!!

the budgets approved for a new model. No more fukn lux, outdated old junk anyw

He jolts, just barely avoiding toppling an overloaded shelf thanks to a proximity alert and a quick joint freeze. He was one of the few of his model left here by now, and the only one at that sector, but he hadn’t ever done anything that wasn’t specified in his tasks. If people would just stop trying to touch things it’d be fine.

Right?

That’s no reason to have him scrapped?

He wants to tell himself he can’t believe they’d do that, but that isn’t true. He knows he’s been coasting on the budget being tight, he knows they don’t like what he is doing even if it isn’t wrong. And telling that stupid guy with his stupid overpriced suit and kids trying to climb everything that if he really wanted to do some good with his hand-me-down stolen ritual objects from ‘exotic cultures’ then he’d find the owners not trying to sell them off here was in fact quite polite.

Just.

Not if you’re eyeing a new investor apparently.

Cause clearly that’s what we’re here for, not teaching people. Which replicas are fine for, cause you can touch those damn it.

Priorities. He can’t get caught up in his opinions now. What are his options? 

Stay, and get carted off - they probably won’t take him offline before the replacement is here.

Right?

...right?

He can’t be sure, and he doesn’t want to risk finding out. He might just be a museum robot, but he doesn’t want to die, he’s not even that old.

Alternatively he could grab his charger and just. Walk off? It’s not like jamming the anti burglary code is hard.

Not much choice, is there really?

He slips back towards his off duty station.

If they want to be rid of him that bad, he’ll give them a hand.

Then he won’t ever have to deal with lying to people again either, that’ll be a relief.

He really hates that designation they gave him anyway.

It seems ironic, somehow, that the sky’s a beautiful blue out here. As bothersome as grey and rainy would be, it'd suit his mood much better. But for now he’ll just take a moment at a deserted back alley to reassess his situation. The outside is… stickier than he imagined, and there’s entirely too many humans for comfort right now. He wants to scream, but the attention that’d bring isn’t any good. He wants to cry, which is a weird feeling to have when your face can’t even really show ‘sad’. There’s a lot of things he wants to do that he can’t right now. Getting rid of that stupid brand logo though.  That he can do, even if he’ll get some dings along the way.

He really should find himself a name too. Something that doesn’t have the bad taste of ‘light’ to it.

Like darkness.

Or Noir.

[nerdgirlriot]

First full day at the parks. Woke up right before 7am to attempt to get into the virtual queue for Runaway Railway, the new ride in Toontown. Managed to get in for a return time of around 11am. Went to grab the free breakfast from the hotel. Decent selection, with eggs, sausage, fried potatoes, also cereals, oatmeals, and fresh fruit. Not bad, and it helped fill my stomach before going into the parks.

(So for those playing along at home, I'm traveling with my boyfriend, J. Who is very patient with me and my constant fangirling.)

As I sat in the breakfast room, I watched the return time for my Runaway Railway queue number go down until it turned into a time an hour earlier than originally promised. So we high-tailed it into Disneyland, but we still had time before our return time. Went to ride other rides while waiting. Mr. Toad's Wild Ride is my favorite Fantasyland ride, just because it's so ludicrous. You go on a nice drive like Mr. Toad, until you end up in a series of mishaps which eventually land you in Hell until you drive your way out. i love it so much.

We wandered around the park some more just taking everything in. Maybe some people might think of Disneyland as just a bunch of rides and attractions but one of my favorite things is watching other people enjoy themselves. I know it sounds weird, but the entire ambiance of the original Disney park just hits me hard in the feels. yes this is a gigantic corporation designed to squeeze money out from you. But I was a sheltered Gen x kid with access to the Disney Channel so it's the source of a lot of fond memories. I'll always be a Disney fan, I think.

We waiting around until our boarding group was called for Runaway Railway, so off we went!

I love this ride. First off, the queue is fantastic, it's basically a retrospective of Mickey Mouse's career, up to and including the new shorts. Goofy takes everyone for a ride on his train and STUFF HAPPENS so your traincar goes off into weird, toony scenes. Just as good as Rise of the Resistance. Incidentally, we haven't gone on Rise yet because I refuse to pay for any lightning lane access to any ride and the ride was consistantly going offline all day.

Anyway, Runaway Railway is cute and I liked the little preview of the revamped Toontown that's going to be opening soon.

After venturing into Toontown, we headed to the Winnie-the-Pooh ride (which is its own brand of ridiculous that tickles me alot). I also went to the Pooh Corner sweets shop to get a churro toffee (which I'd seen Chris from the Provost Park Pass Youtube channel rave about). I tried it out and it was good (the toffee wasn't super crunchy but actually crumbly and sweet and cinnamon-y and buttery) but I think I like Dole whips more.

Speaking of Dole whips! We headed to the Tropical Hideaway to grab a snack. This place specializes in various Dolewhip flavors, and they had a limited time menu item, a strawberry dole whip sundae which was delicious! Strawberry Dole whip, vanilla cake crumbles, and a sweet strawberry sauce. it was basically a strawberry shortcake in a glass.

Went on Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, a coaster that's just my speed, probably my favorite coaster in the park. I can't ride Space Mountain because the dark disorients my brain and I get motion sick. I don't like how the Matterhorn beats you up so much, so Big Thunder Mountain is my default best coaster.

A sign at the entrance to the park reminded visitors that there was going to be a special parade to celebrate the Super Bowl champs. I decidedly did not want to get caught in that crowd so we stuck around Tomorrowland during the time parade was happening.

We rode Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blasters, which went down right when we got off, so we got lucky there! I still suck at the game though, forgot where all the triangles are. Then we hopped in the stand-by line for Star Tours. i know that the ride now includes the sequel trilogy stuff (cameos from Finn, Poe, and Maz) which is fun, but I still miss the classic trilogy stuff, the ride through Hoth for example. But the ride is still enjoyable.

While wandering through Tomorrowland, I found one of the kiosks selling the 100th anniversary medallions outside the exit near Space Mountain. I got the entire set of four, all Star Wars themed.

By the time we left Tomorrowland the parade was already over, so we didn't have to push through a sea of football fans to navigate. So we headed out of the park and into Downtown Disney so I could check out all the merch at World of Disney. Then we wandered to the Disneyland Hotel just to find their medallion kiosk. So I think this'll be my souvenir quest this year.

Took the Monorail from Downtown Disney back into Tomorrowland, then went through to Adventureland (to ride Jungle Cruise) and New Orleans Square (to ride Pirates). By then it was nearing dinner time (and it was getting pretty cold) so we called it a day.

There's a Hawaiian plate lunch place about a block from our hotel so we went to pick up dinner to take back to the hotel room.

Still have one more day of Disneyland to experience. Going to California Adventure in the morning, with a lunch reservation at Lamplight Lounge. Maybe we'll also check out the Lunar New Year things as well.



[saint-starflicker]

I — (we're off to a great start) don't personally have a problem with reading fanfiction that's being told in first person, and if the character voice in my mind insists enough during the creative process then I do lean into writing that way.

There is a trend I observed that's scapegoating fanfiction and YA literature together for the decline of media literacy (Zynart in that '“book lovers” don’t love anything about books and it’s weird' post, and video essayist Laura Crone in 'the pink aisle of crime fiction must be stopped'—to be clear, both were excellent otherwise but I was confused by their going right to disparaging fanfictions and YA Lit without qualifying why those modes and categories of prose apparently deserved to be disparaged. It was giving bandwagon.)

I say it's important to note that those two — fanfiction and YA Lit — get fashionably disparaged in the same breath because of this one detail:

Young Adult gets told in first person as an industry standard.

I learned that bit from interviews with a singer/actor turned author that I admire. His debut original novel was YA, and he initially expected his editor to tell him to cut down on the cussing or limit the number of implied sex scenes...but the actual instructions this author got was that he has to tell the story in first person.

And I think that's related in a roundabout way to somebody I used to know offline having two dealbreakers in book recommendations: Is it told in first person? Is the protagonist a teenaged girl? If the answer is yes to either, then she won't touch it. She already knows she's going to hate that book.

My points of reference are scant: only two unrelated internet essayists threw in a "fanfictions and YA literature bad", so it's not exactly a widespread meme that I can really call scapegoating or hate-bandwagoning if a whole two people did it one time each years ago; the stated personal experience of one dilettante YA Lit author who's moving on to writing adult autofiction? memoirs? next anyway; and one, uh, that.

But if you will allow me a red string corkboard meme moment...

...I'm finding a pattern, here...

First person prose is getting stigmatized as conceited and immature.

And as you pointed out, plenty of classical literature gets told in first person. Well, yes, and I think that's because during that era, if I recall this was around the 19th century, it was third person that was getting stigmatized as "unrealistic" and therefore philosophically unfashionable. First person in adult literature was probably industry standard to stay profitable during that trend back when, for very different reasons that first person would be an industry-standard imposition on YA Lit today.

But because YA Lit is marketed towards younger people and read by younger people, then I suspect the mere exposure can get inexperienced readers who become inexperienced writers most likely to publish a fanfiction that is also in first person—if that's what they're more often shown, that most of what they read is told in first person.

That inexperience might show in other ways: difficulty capturing and replicating character voice, stilted descriptions, limited understanding of character motivations if it's in conflict with the fanfiction author's favorite, difficulty writing subtext, difficulty committing to plot or polishing things up for pacing—Even experienced writers will have some of these weaknesses, but when it's all together like this and almost always in first person while being like this...then fanfiction readers pick up on that pattern and then they get snobbish about the use of first person in the same way as my offline acquaintance up there.

Recently I saw a lot people complain about fanfictions that are written in first person and I do not agree.

Yeah of course you can have your own preferences and it's totally fine to not read what you don't enjoy. You do you!

But like I personally don't get why that's a problem? Can't a fic be well written and life changing in first person? Why is third person better?

Also as a fic writer myself this really makes me kind of insecure about my writing. Most of my fics are in third person, but there are two in first, because I think it's necessary to tell their story.

So could someone enlighten me and tell me what you guys think is so bad?

Also why is it accepted in many (classic) novels, but not in fanfic?

Why do you guys don't like your blorbo telling a story frrom their perspective?

I'm looking forward to your answers!

[somewhat-daily-hannahxxrose]

#

[inertflouride]

Turmoils of you- Part 3

(I meant to post it earlier but had a really bad migraine and viral fever)

Episode 10 references⚠️

Warning: Disobedient MC and rough Jake *snickers* Sorry, had to repost it again TuT

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" is what I get to hear once I'm out of the shower. Jake turns to me, pauses for a while, his eyes going over me for a minute or so as he takes me in, before getting to the matter at hand. "Uh, I've made a plan to get Hannah and Richy out but I need to know if you're up for what I'm about to ask you for."

Do I see worry? Sure do. If this has him worried, it's got to be something big. "Sure Jake, go ahead", I respond cooly, trying to mask my shrieky voice.

"Well, as you know, I've stayed here for a some time already", he starts, "there is a high chance that my pursuers might show up in..., let's say the coming few days. But then that's just a hopeful assumption. They may visit me in the coming hours as well."

He pauses for a while and stressfully rubs his hand on his forehead. I begin to say something but he beats me to it. "I wouldn't have taken a risk this big had it not been for Hannah", he trails off.

I move upto him and take his hands in mine, giving him a reassuring smile. His eyes go wide for just a moment and he returns a smile. "And none of this will go in vain. We will get Hannah back, Jake. I know we will."

"Yes", he affirms, then pauses for a moment. "Okay so whatever I'm about to tell you right now, you will listen to it, without interrupting me. Is that clear?", he asks, indicating that whatever I'm going to hear isn't going to be fine by me but I decide to give him the benefit of doubt and nod.

"Like I said earlier, I won't let you anywhere near that sick bastard so, you won't be coming in the mines", he declares.

"No. No. No. No. Did I mention, no!", I say, giving a brief pause between every 'no'.

"What did I say? Listen to me first", he orders me, which of course weakens my traitor body. I need to get my shit together!

"I want you to do something more important", he curtly tells me.

If this is his way to pull me away from danger and make him the target, it ain't happening. "Jake, if you want me to sit back and watch you risk your life, I'm not doing that."

"Instead, you are going to keep a track of my pursuers and inform me about it when I'm in the mine", he declares.

"Huh? How will I tell you that when I won't be in that stupid mine in the first place?", I ask him, fiddling with the skin on my thumb.

"You won't be IN the mine but I can't keep you in here with no protection so you'll be around that area. Aside from that we need to discuss evacuation plans as well", he mumbles the last part, getting busy by the details.

"Then lets do it. I don't think we have much time anyways", I say as I stand up.

"Let me arrange everything. Till then, here's your phone. Your friends are worried. Try to talk down things", he suggests and passes me my phone.

I read through whatever has happened till now. Jake handled the situation pretty well, especially when Thomas started insisting on going to the Grimrock on his own. Gotta say, that man has some real dedication for love.

MC: Sorry guys, I went missing in action for a while MC: Especially during the time when you all needed me MC: But trust me, we're going to get Hannah, super soon MC: Please have some faith on me, one last time.

I quickly type it all in the group chat before moving onto Michael's messages. Fuck. I had completely forgotten about keeping him on wait. The fact that Dan has shot him and he is injured puts him in a vulnerable state mentally, making him prone to make hasty decisions. Plus, it's already been 2 hours since I messaged him. I just hope he hasn't done something stupid. Again.

Unknown: I have been waiting for you

Unknown: You are going to regret this

UNKNOWN IS OFFLINE

"It doesn't matter anymore. His hiding place has been exposed so, don't worry about this", Jake reassures me as he peeps in my phone, suddenly coming from behind.

"Thanks Jake. Um, you were quick. Are you done with whatever you had to do?", I blabber as I get nervous from the close proximity of our faces.

"Mhmm", I blush as he stares at my lips. As soon as we're done with this, I'm literally a goner, the one who'll actually be at HIS mercy. Provided he doesn't pull an 'It's too dangerous for us to be together' or 'You deserve a life which I can't give'. And to be frank? This is pretty likely to happen too.

I notice him going to his desk, picking up a black box like thing with a few buttons on it.

"Is this a walkie talkie? You know like the ones policemen use?", I ask him out of bewilderment and curiosity.

"Hmm, close but no. This device here produces low frequency waves, since only they can penetrate rocks and enable communication", Jake begins explaining the whole mechanism, "Ah, I'm sorry, I went in too much details."

"Never mind that, it isn't like I'm completely clueless", I reply to him, secretly loving it when he talks nerdy to me.

"But Jake, how did you get a hold of this?", I ask him in curiosity.

He smirks at me and then says, "I made it."

"For real?", I exclaim at his proficiency. I didn't expect a hacker to know how to build devices too but then, he's not just any hacker, he's the best one out there, so it makes sense.

He continues, "So, I make it underground via the Terrandale entrance. Just before I do, you will click this button here", he indicates a red button on his laptop screen. "This will make all cameras go blank for 10 minutes, infecting his system completely."

"Just 10 minutes? No way in hell will you make to Hannah and Richy in 10 minutes!", I imply in bewilderment.

"I'll still have the element of surprise. As long as he thinks he's alone in the mine, my job becomes easy", he explains. "After that, there's this tracker here which will help you with my pursuers. If they get within 10 kms range, the device will alert you like it did when they tried to hack into your phone."

"But what after that, after, let's say, they do get here?"

"Once it starts beeping, you signal me via this device which I have given you. It will alert me when that happens", he pauses to show me how both devices start beeping. "As soon as you are done alerting me, you will get in the vehicle in which we went to the mines and leave for Colville. Do not wait for me and never get back to this place. Every nook and corner here will be compromised by then."

"I will not leave you in the mine and evacuate, Jake. No way in hell am I doing that. We go in and get out. Together", I declare.

"Please listen to me, baby. If they get their hands on you, they are going to use you to lure me. Don't think that they will abstain from using force or any other means of brutality to get out information about me from you. They are willing to go to any lengths, so when I say leave, we leave. Don't worry, I'll join you in Colville. I promise I will."

I do not say anything and get to packing up my stuff. I grab my bag pack which rests along the wall and look towards Jake, so as to know when will we get going.

"You do trust me, don't you?", he asks me, intently waiting for a response.

"I don't know, Jake. Do I?", I shoot back at him only to find him staring at me so intensely that had I not known him, I'd have run for the hills. He gets close to me with a dark look and whispers "I had you unconscious for 1 whole hour, love. If I wanted to do something, I would have, wouldn't I?" and smirks at me.

I move to wipe that smirk off his face with a slap, but he grips my wrist before I could and pins me to the wall. "Nuh uh. I wouldn't slap a guy I met a few hours ago and was powerless against if I were you."

"But now that I do dare, what are you going to do about it, Jake?" I challenge him, matching the dark look in his eyes.

He tightens his hold on my wrists and puts his mouth right in front of me, our noses touching and lips barely apart. "Say that again", he says to me, trying to suppress my rebel attitude.

"Why? Can't get it the first time?", I sneer.

He presses his lips on mine, asserting his dominance over me. Not so soon honey. I knee him in his crotch, not that hard though, but enough to make him back down from me. He hisses in pain, surprised by the sudden attack. I move past him, taking my belongings with me. I find one of his hoodies on the chair and put it on myself and then looking at him, asking nonchalantly, "So are we going or not? We have hostages to save who don't have all day for your shitty attitude, you know."

He straightens up and impressively laughs at me. "You did pique my interest. You indeed did." I give him a toothy grin to hide my annoyance at not getting a response I wished for.

He then grabs his own bag and a set of keys, possibly his vehicle's. Opening the door gently, he moves outside but motions me to stay put as he goes out to check the surroundings, analysing every little detail. When he's sure there isn't anything, he asks me to follow him and leads us to a black XUV concealed behind the bushes.

Suddenly, right in the middle of our path to the car, a bush starts shaking and alerts us, making my heart almost pound outside my body. I look at Jake who is around 20 steps behind me and signals me to crouch my way to the car. I do as he says, and slowly make my way to the car, not daring to stand up when my knees give up or either look back at him to know he's following me until I don't make it there.

As soon as I reach at the foot of the car, I turn around just to find Jake taking cover behind tree, aiming a handgun towards the bush. He showers a rain of bullets at the bush, each shot making me finch. When he notices no movement for a couple of minutes, he takes off towards the car.

A black shadow emerging from the bushes pounces on his back, making him fall on the ground and not letting him get back up. I desperately try to make out what is happening, squinting at the scene but the fact that both the figures are dressed black, that too in the night theme, doesn't make it any easier for me.

The panic from whatever is happening makes the person I most dread appear. She wraps her arms around my shoulder and slowly breathes in my ear, her fingers trailing from my elbows to the tip of my fingers. "What will you do MC?" she asks me, making my skin crawl.

Well, that's an excellent question. So, what am I going to do?

PART-4

[silkling]

Could you please write a crossover of Rescue Bots and TFP? Rather than dying on the Nemesis, a critically injured Dreadwing fleas and crash lands on Griffin Rock. The Rescue Bots find him and nurse him back to health, not realizing he’s a Decepticon because his markings got scratched up in the fight. Dreadwing wakes up while the Rescue Bots are trying to contact Team Prime, but can’t since, unbeknownst to them, they’re all on Cybertron, fighting the Cons for the Omega Keys and Omega Lock.

So, this one turned out to be much, much longer than I thought. So long, in fact, that I had to divide it into three posts. The second post will be linked at the bottom of this one, and the third will be linked at the bottom of the second. Dear god, apparently I had a lot of more thoughts about Rescue Bots than even I was aware of. Oh well. Either way, I hope everyone enjoys! (FYI: most prompt fills will not be this long. This one was just so long cause I have many emotions and ideas about this scenario.)

———————————————————————————————————

Dreadwing felt the betrayal of Lord Megatron as surely as if it were just as physical a wound as the hole blown through his chest. He had heard the weapon powering up, and his war-forged battle instincts had had him diving to the side just as the fusion canon had fired. It has still torn though his chest, but rather than destroy his spark chamber the blast had torn a hole straight through the right side of his chest near his shoulder. He lived yet, but if he could not escape the Nemesis that would not be the case for much longer.

He had served Lord Megatron with loyalty and honor for millennia, ever since he and his brother had joined the Decepticons after Vos had fallen. Dreadwing had sold his very spark to the Unmaker to act on the wishes and orders of his leader, and this is what his loyalty had earned him? Megatron attempting to offline him, and protecting the mech who had desecrated his brother? The same mech who had, countless times before, betrayed Megatron himself? Dreadwing could scarcely understand it. Why would Megatron spare Starscream, who had given the warlord no true loyalty, when Dreadwing himself had been nothing but loyal? Is this what his loyalty bought him, among the Decepticons? Dishonorably killed solely for attempting to avenge his brother by killing a traitorous coward?

If so, he wanted nothing to do with it.

He dragged himself down the halls, finally making it to the flight deck, and looked down to see the ship flying above the ocean. Rather than attempt a proper take off, he simply pitched his body forward off the edge and allowed himself to fall. As he neared the water, he forced a transformation, ignoring the agony of the action, and his engine roared to life. Lucid thought slipped away, then, as baser survival coding took over and guided him away from the warship, away from danger, away from what would have been his death.

Only one thing was certain, now.

In attacking Dreadwing to protect Starscream, Megatron had lost the loyalty of his most devoted frontline warrior.

Dreadwing simply refused to follow a mech who would protect the one who desecrated his brother.

And so, survival protocols overriding every other thought or higher system, the large Seeker allowed his higher processor functions to shut off. His mind quieted to blissful silence. Instinct alone drove him forward, flying towards a destination even he did not know. He could only hope it would be somewhere safe.

——————————

Blades didn’t know what he was expecting when he went on a walk along the beach, but it most certainly wasn’t a large Cybertronian lying in in the sand, looking like he’d crashed landed and resting lifeless on patch of sand soaked with energon. Technically, the copter wasn’t even supposed to be out here, as Sigma-17 had to maintain their cover, but everything at the firehouse had just been several kinds of too much that morning, so he had, for once, flown off on his own and landed on a beach he knew no humans ever really came to, intent to just take a walk and clear his head.

Except, upon coming around a bend, he’d found the aforementioned Cybertronian. For a moment, he’d simply frozen, but then the instinct ingrained by his training kicked in and he sprung into action. See, Blades was a trained and licensed triage medic. He couldn’t perform complex surgeries or anything on the level of a proper medic, but in the Rescue Academy on Cybertron he’d taken the courses for field level medical aid so that, if he’d ever run into someone during a rescue who’d been hurt, he could treat them and keep them alive until they could get to a medical facility. The training g had been fun, especially when he’d studied with-

He shook his head roughly before that thought could complete itself. He didn’t want to think about the time….Before. It hurt, remembering what and who he’d lost during his millennia of stasis. Before he could fall back into grief, training snapped back into place and his processor quieted. He knelt next to the fallen Cybertronian, noting that they were a Seeker frame, and carefully turned the bot over. His next thought was an observation that the bot was a mech, and that the energon soaking into the sand under his frame was spilling from a large hole torn straight through his chest. That meant the first thing he needed to do was seal the leaking lines to keep him from losing more energon. After that, he could call Heatwave. He didn’t have the skills to patch this wound up fully. Once he’d made sure this mech wouldn’t die here and now, he would need to get him to proper care. One of the stasis pods would certainly help, though if they wanted the wound healed fully he’d need to be in the pod for a while. The other alternative was contacting Optimus. Blades knew the Prime had a proper medic on his team, which might be the better option.

As his processor raced, trying to think of a plan, his hands worked on autopilot. He slipped the tools he needed from his subspace, cleaning and removing grime where it was needed to prevent infection, removing bits of sand and stone from the wound, and using a small welder to seal off the free-flowing energon lines. He covered loose, sparking wires and circuits, , rerouting a few of them in places where it was needed. Finally, after many long minutes, he finished and sat back on his heels.

It was then the helicopter realized his comm. was pinging with an alert for an incoming message, and had been for quite some time. In fact, it seemed he’d missed several messages. From Heatwave, Chase, Boulder, Dani, the Chief, Cody…Pit, even Graham had sent him a message. Embarrassment and guilt settled heavy in his chest, and he lifted his hand to his audial to accept the current call. As soon as his comm. clicked to life, Dani’s voice was coming through it.

“Blades! Finally! Where are you? We’ve all been worried sick, you know.” his partner scolded. Blades couldn’t help the small smile that twisted his lips upwards. It was nice knowing she cared. He loved Dani dearly. She was family, after all. “You know you’re not supposed to even be out of the firehouse on your own, you idiot bot!” she continued, her voice holding an undercurrent of worry despite the insult. Blades didn’t take it personally. “What if someone had seen you? You need to-“

And now that was enough. “Dani.” he interrupted her, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “I’m sorry for ignoring you and everyone else, but right now there’s a bigger emergency than me risking our cover. I found an inured bot on that small beach behind the mountain. You know, the one no one likes to go to because the hike is too long? He’s in a really bad way. I have triage training, and I’ve patched him up, but he needs either a stasis pod or a proper medic, as close to immediately as possible.”

There was silence on the other end, before-

“Alright. I’ll tell everyone to come to your location. I’m with Dad and Chase right now. We all split up to look for you, but we’ll meet you there. Don’t move, and keep the bot alive.” Dani instructed. Despite himself, Blades was smiling again. Yes, he really did love Dani. She knew when it was time to get serious. He had a feeling he’d be forgiven for his blunder today, given the circumstances.

“Will do. I’ll see you soon.”

“Just hang tight, partner. And stay out of trouble.”

“You too.” he chirped, hands still working over the bot to patch up his more minor wounds now that the life-threatening one was dealt with. “And Dani?”

“Yeah, Blades?”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

There was a beat of silence, and then her voice came though, softer and fonder.

“Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.”

Then the comm. line cut off, and Blades was left alone to in the silence. He let his processor drift, kneeling in the energon soaked sand as he worked on saving the life of a bot whose name he didn’t even know.

——————————

Chase was worried. He knew Blades was more capable than the others thought he was, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. He hadn’t been surprised when the copter bot had left the firehouse that morning. He’d seen the way he had held his rotors tight to his spinal strut, seen the way he’d fidgeted around the others, seen the way his optics had slipped and gone dull and distant. He knew today was not a good day for Blades, so his disappearance had not been a surprise. He’d been mildly concerned, simply because he did not know if Blades would be able to avoid being seen in his more distracted state, but he hadn’t been too worried. Still, when Heatwave had insisted on going to track down their rogue teammate, he hadn’t protested. He’d even offered to let Dani ride with him and the Chief to make things simpler.

But then Blades had finally picked up Dani’s comm. and that was when he started to worry. A strange bot, found injured on Griffin Rock? It raised many questions. Where had they come from? Who where they? How had they been injured? Chase wasn’t worried that the bot would die. He knew Blades had triage training, so he was confident his teammate would be able to keep his unexpected patient alive. Even so, this new development raised many questions that Chase did not have the answers to, and that was what worried him. There were not many Cybertronians on Earth, he knew. Aside from Sigma-17, there was Team Prime, and….the Decepticons. As far as Chase was aware, and he admittedly did not know as much as he would like, there were no unaligned bots on the planet.

Which meant this newcomer was either one of Prime’s team, a Decepticon, or he had crash landed on the island from space and wasn’t attached to either faction. It would be easy enough to confirm; they simply had to contact Prime and ask if he was missing a teammate, and if not ask if he recognized the bot in question. If this stranger was a neutral party or an Autobot, Chase knew there would be nothing to worry about. But if they were a Decepticon…well, that was the root of the police bot’s concerns. Sigma-17 was a rescue team. They knew rudimentary combat skills, enough to defend themselves or those they were rescuing in an emergency, but they were non-combatants. By the standards of the War, his team would be classified as civilians. If this new Cybertronian was a Decepticon…Chase wasn’t sure they’d be able to protect Griffin Rock, this time. He wasn’t sure they’d even be able to protect themselves.

Before he could slip even further into his own processor, they arrived at the coordinates Blades had sent. His snapped into focus, his doors popping open to allow his passengers out, and then he was transforming and walking over to where he could see Blades. As he approached his friend, he heard Boulder and Heatwave pull up behind him and transform. Blades looked up from his work when his three teammates stopped next to him, and Chase was mildly disconcerted to see the amount of energon soaking the sand and coating the copter’s hands.

“Blades, what happened?” Heatwave demanded, voice rough.

“I don’t know.” he shrugged helplessly. “I came out here for some space and to take a walk, cause I know this beach is practically abandoned, and I just found him like this.”

Indeed, this close, Chase could see that the mystery bot was in fact a mech. That answered one question, but none of the others. How irritating. It was also making him very nervous and queasy to see just how badly injured the very, very large bot was. Boulder too, seemed to feel ill at the sight of such horrible wounds and so much energon. Distantly, Chase noted that the bot might be even bigger than High Tide. He had no idea how they were supposed to get him back to the firehouse.

Heatave made a frustrated noise, clearly displeased with the lack of information though he knew Blades was not to blame. “Well can you tell how he got so injured?”

“A weapon of some sort, though not one I’ve ever seen the damage of before.” Blades said, frowning. His processor was clearly working hard, trying to turn over the facts he knew to figure out the bigger picture. “There’s also signs of older damage. I can’t be 100% sure, but I think this bot is, or maybe was, involved in the War.”

Heatwave paused, seeming more wary with this new information. “…can you tell which side?”

“No. Any faction identifier or badge has been destroyed or scraped off like most of his paint. I can only just figure out what his colors are supposed to be, and even them only barely.”

Chase could tell that Heatwave was annoyed, but the fire truck only grumbled his curses under his breath before sighing. “Alright. What do we need to do?”

Blades startled, looking surprised. “You’re asking me?”

“Of course.” Chase cut in before Heatwave could snap something rude and further stress the already clearly frazzled helicopter. “You are the triage medic here. Protocol dictates that, in the absence of a full medic, any medical decisions would fall to the next available medical expert. In this case, that would be you.”

Blades blinked a few times, before shaking himself and sitting up straighter. “Like I said earlier, he needs a stasis pod. Badly. I don’t have the ability to fix him completely, my training only covered keeping patients alive until they could get to someone who could repair them fully. The only one on planet I know who might be able to help is Optimus’s medic. He can also heal completely in one of our stasis pods, but it would take longer than just asking Optimus for help.”

Heatwave grunted. “Got it. He needs a stasis pod now, and a medic later. We can do that.”

That seemed to be enough to startle Boulder into awareness, and the bulldozer jumped before nodding and turning to Heatwave. “Graham and I can figure out a way to transport him safely. Though we’ll need your help, Blades. You have a better understanding of his condition than us.”

The copter nodded, and Chase let that be his que to retreat to back to where the humans were waiting. Apparently, they didn’t want to get too close in case their presence caused an issue with the unknown bot’s care.

“Well?” Chief asked. “How’s our newest guest?

“Unwell.” Chase said succinctly. “He is severely injured and appears to be involved in the War in some fashion, though it is impossible to tell for which side. We are going to transport him to the firehouse in order to put him into a stasis pod so that he may heal. Graham, I believe Boulder requires your assistance in that respect.” he said, directing the last part to the engineer.

Graham nodded, making no protest as he jogged forward towards his partner, Boulder already turning and crouching to begin discussing plans. Dani followed him quickly, though she split from his path to join Blades, clambering up onto his leg and patting his canopy as she shot him a reassuring smile.

It was here that Kade made his own opinion known. “Hey hey hey, let’s slow down!” he protested. “You just said you don’t know what side this guy’s on, and you want to bring him back home? We can’t do that! Why can’t Blades just fix him here and we can send him on his way?”

Chase tilted his head. “Blades is a licensed triage medic. He does not have the training necessary to fully repair him. Besides, even if he did, I do not believe it would be wise to simply ‘send him on his way’, and you said. If he truly is a Decepticon, then doing so would risk leading the entirety of the Decepticon army right here to Griffin Rock.”

Kade froze, seeming suddenly queasy. “Oh.”

Chief sighed. “Fair point, partner. I agree we can’t just leave him or let him die. It wouldn’t be right, even if he isn’t on our side. But for safety’s sake, would it be possible to keep him unconscious until we can confirm his identity with Optimus?”

Chase nodded. “Indeed, Chief. I believe that is the current plan. As soon as he is safely in a stasis pod, we will attempt to contact Optimus. With luck, we can have this matter sorted by the end of today.”

“Good.” Chief smiled. “Then let’s get to work.”

“Agreed.”

Chase returned to his team, Chief and Kade following at his heel, to find they had come up with a plan to transport the unknown Cybertronian. Working together, the rescue team was able to get the large flight-frame settled into a make-shift trailer the engineer duo had thrown together, and after hitching it to Boulder’s vehicle mode the whole group made their way to the firehouse using the tunnels in order to avoid being seen. Barring Blades, of course, who instead flew straight to base with Dani in order to prepare a stasis pod.

By the time Chase and the others arrived, the pod was set up and open to admit the unknown mech. It took all four of Sigma-17 working together to lift him into it, but then the glass door was sliding shut and frost soon hid the bot from view as the stasis function of the pod took affect. Now, all that was left was for Blades to clean himself up, and for Heatwave to contact Optimus about their guest.

Chase just hoped this development didn’t come back to bite them.

——————————

Dreadwing woke to the hiss of an unfamiliar system disengaging and onlined his optics to see icy mist billowing to the floor as a glass door slid up from in front of him. A stasis pod? That was odd. The Nemesis had no stasis pods and he knew the Autobots did not have the means to maintain or build one either. He was also not aware there were any other Cybertronians on the planet. So where was he, and how had he gotten into a stasis pod? The last thing he remembered was fleeing the Nemesis, although….he did have very vague, hazy memories of a crash. Had he been discovered and saved before he could offline? If so, he would have to thank his unexpected savior. Unless, of course, it was an Autobot and he had only been saved so he could be locked away. If that was the case, a bot was going to die here today and it would not be him.

The stasis pod fully disengaged from him, and he was able to step out and onto the floor. He glanced down at himself, humming idly. It seemed that he had been fully repaired either before or while in the pod. That was good for him. He looked around, frowning at his odd surroundings. The location he was in had medical supplies, but was clearly no full medical bay. Perhaps it was only set up for emergencies, then? His wings twitched when he picked up the sound of pede steps beyond the doorway, and his gaze turned towards the sound. After a moment, he realized whoever it was wasn’t coming towards him, but rather they seemed to be…pacing? Yes, that is what it sounded like. Curiosity piqued, Dreadwing strode towards the door, making sure his own steps were quiet so as not to alert the other to his presence. He stepped though, looking around…and his optics blew wide.

It was a youngling. A small, orange and white helicopter bot was pacing back and forth in tight circles in the center of the room. Dreadwing was willing to bet that this little flyer was even younger than the Autobot scout. As the mechling turned to pace in another circle, the Seeker caught sight of the emblem on his chest. At first, he saw only a badge similar to the Autobot brand and his frame began to stiffen. Then the rest of the badge processed in his mind and his vents froze.

The Rescue Bot insignia.

This tiny little flying mechling was a Rescue Bot. But how? Megatron had seen to the destruction of the Rescue Bot headquarters in the early days of the war, and had sent his soldiers to systematically hunt down and offline any who had survived the initial attack or had not been present during it. Dreadwing and his brother had joined the Decepticons after massacre, but it was one the only acts the Decepticons had committed that they had wholly disapproved off. The Rescue Bots had been unaffiliated with any faction. They took an oath of neutrality, a vow to save any and every life they could regardless who who or what that life was. Megatron had wanted them gone because he’d wanted to make a statement, but also because he wanted to deny the Autobots any potential allies or any aid that the Rescue Bots would have given them.

It had been a great loss, and had been one of the reasons Dreadwing had initially wished to avoid choosing one side or the other. The Decepticons, in his mind, took things too far. The Autobots, while more restrained, had initially risen from the regime in which he and his brother had suffered under. But then….Vos had fallen, and word had spread that his city’s destruction had been the doing of the Autobots. He and Skyquake had been forced to pick a side, then. He’d gotten over his hesitance at the Decepticon methods and given Lord Megatron his undying loyalty. And now…he was here, betrayed by the one who he as sworn himself to, watching a youngling Rescue Bot pace in nervous circles. It was something that should have been impossible.

Suddenly, the mechling froze, and wide amber optics turned to him. Idly, Dreadwing realized he must have made some noise, and then the little copter was yelping and scrabbling back. He paused, then hurried forward, his hands fluttering as if unsure what to do. Before the little one got too close, Dreadwing locked his own sharp, red optics onto him, and the bot froze in place with a startled yip.

For a long moment, there was only silent staring.

——————————

Blades was pacing. There wasn’t much else he could do. The day they had brought back the large Seeker, Heatwave had contacted Optimus. Only, the Prime had very quickly shut him down, explaining they were busy with an issue of “upmost importance” and that he would return their contact when he was able to. That had been three weeks ago, and he hadn’t called back. The Seeker was still in stasis, and Heatwave was once against attempting to make contact, for the 15th day in a row. Chase and the Chief were on patrol, and Boulder and the other humans were at Blossom Vale, having a picnic. Blades had opted to remain behind, wanting to keep an eye on the Seeker.

In the time since finding the large mech, Blades had done some research. He’d had to dig around the Sigma’s files, and dig through the files of the computer that connected them to Optimus, as well as dig through the various data-pads that had been left to them by High Tide and Optimus. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that he’d been able to piece together information about the War that the Prime hadn’t been telling them. Now, Blades understood why the War had started. The civil unrest had been a thing even before Sigma-17 had been formed, when he was still in the early days of training, it had been mild, then, but it had been there. So he wasn’t surprised that it had grown worse, especially if the root causes of the unrest hadn’t ever been addressed.

He also knew, from the information he’d dug up in his search, that after the fall of Vos, most Seekers had joined the Decepticons. Which meant that his patient was, in all likelihood, a Decepticon himself. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. But he hadn’t told the others his suspicions. Mostly because…something about the situation was odd. Optimus didn’t strike him as the type of mech who would inflict or approve of that type of wound being inflicted on a mech. So unless he had someone on his team who was excessively violent and he couldn’t control, Blades didn’t see that wound coming from the Autobots. Which meant it had come from the Decepticons. Of course, that only raised more questions. Namely, why would they do that to one of their own, if the mech really was a ‘Con? He wanted to get answers before he shared his suspicions. He didn’t want to condemn the Seeker to anything bad if he was wrong.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t been all he had learned, in the past few weeks. In one of the data pads High Tide had left about the early days of the war, there had been a mention of the “end of the Rescue Force”. It had just been a mention, a reference to an event that was probably detailed in a separate data pad. But he hadn’t ever found that separate data pad. And when he remembered What Optimus had said, when he’d first found them..”

“I was not aware Rescue Teams were…still active.”

He’d said it slowly, haltingly, as if choosing the words carefully. He’d paused before saying the last part too. At the time, Blades hadn’t thought much of it. But with the information about the War Optimus had allowed them to have, and the mention of the “end of the Rescue Force” in that one data pad, well…Blades was starting to think that “active” had not been the word that the Prime had actually meant. Something had happened, something he didn’t have enough information to figure out yet, but the faint picture he was starting to get from the pieces of information he did have wasn’t one he liked. It was another reason he was hesitant to share what he suspected about the Seeker. Optimus was keeping vital information from Sigma-17. He didn’t care if the Prime didn’t want them fighting in the War. He agreed that it was a bad idea. But he was withholding information that Blades suspected his team would very much want, and they didn’t even know it.

So here he was, pacing restlessly as his processor turned over the information he got, unsure how or even if he should share it. Would his team even believe him? He doubted they would. He knew they thought he was silly and couldn’t understand complex ideas, but that was far from the truth. After all, of all the Rescue Bots he had the greatest understanding of human nature and culture. His understanding wasn’t always 100% accurate, and just because he understand the what didn’t mean he understand the why, but he still understood more than any of the others. And sure, he applied most of his ability to learn new information to pop culture rather than the things the others might consider more “worthwhile”, but that was only because pop culture was more fun. Plus, pop culture was where humanity really displayed they way they ticked. Did it really make him that much of an idiot if all that was the case?

He was startled from his spiraling thoughts by a sound from the direction of the make-shift medical bay. The copter glanced in that direction, thinking it was one of his teammates, only to yelp and leap back upon seeing the Seeker. He’d known the other bot was large, but seeing him awake and up just confirmed how large. The red optics too, made discomfort curl in Blade’s tanks. The data-pads had suggested that red optics were typical of Decepticons, though they shouldn’t be used as an identifier of such. Even so, it was another tick in favor of his theory. Then the scene caught up to him, and medical training overrode his temporary moment of panic.

This bot wasn’t supposed to be up yet. In fact, even if he had been fully healed by the pods it was supposed to keep him under until Optimus could arrive. Except….Blades must have put in the settings wrong. He was so used to setting the stasis pods to release once the healing process was complete that he must have input that setting without realizing it. Which…presented a problem. Is this mech was hostile, he didn’t think his team could handle it. Those thoughts circled in the back of his processor as he directed the bulk of his worry towards making sure his patient was alright. His hands flapped awkwardly as he approached the larger flyer, ready to skim over his frame to check out his condition, when piercing red optics locked onto him. He froze with a high pitched squeak, his own optics blown wide as that gaze pinned him in place.

For a long moment, the two Cybertronians merely stared at each other.

Then Blades, getting increasingly nervous, broke the silence. “Are you okay?” he asked, curling and tucking his hands against his canopy. “The stasis pod should have healed you completely, but you were hurt pretty bad. Even most of your paint was gone, though it looks like your color nanintes were able to fix that while you were healing.”

Indeed, the mech standing in front of him was now in full color, his purple and yellow paint bold and bright on his frame. It did seem, however, that he was still missing a faction brand. If he’d ever had one, of course, though the copter strongly suspected he did.

The Seeker seemed put off for a moment, as if he didn’t know why Blades was worried. “I am well.” he said carefully. “Are you the one who repaired me?”

“Well, sort of?” Blades’s rotors fluttered against his back. “I’m a triage medic, so I couldn’t fix you completely, but I kept you online until my team and I could get you into a pod.”

The Seeker narrowed his eyes. “Team?” he repeated, obviously suspicious.

Blades squeaked again, shoulders hunching. “We’re Rescue Bots.” he gestured at his insignia before his hands tucked back against his canopy. “Team Sigma-17. I’m Blades.”

The Seeker was silent for a long moment. “You may call me Dreadwing.” he said slowly. His gaze was still piercing.

Blades nodded, then took a few steps forward, and when Dreadwing made no move to stop him, he closed the gap between them. “Do you mind if I scan you over one last time? I just want to be sure all your systems are in order.”

The Seeker bowed his helm, and Blades lifted his hands to skim over plating, using his built in scanning systems he’d gotten in his triage training to check his patient over. Everything was coming back fine, but with a wound as serious as his had been Blades away taking no chances.

“You are a Rescue Bot.” Dreadwing spoke. His voice was low, and there was an odd note to it.

“Yep. Me, Boulder, Chase, and Heatwave. We crashed here a while ago and Prime stationed us on this island to act as a rescue team for the locals.” he explained distractedly.

Dreadwing made a soft hum. “Prime knows you are here? Are you Autobots, then?”

Blades frowned. “He knows. He visits, sometimes, but not often. We haven’t been able to contact him lately though.” He was too focused on his task to think about whether he should actually,be answering so freely. The second question gave him pause, though. “No? At least, not really? We’re a Rescue Team. Rescue Bots take oaths off non-affiliation. We can’t side with any particular group or individual since our job is to help any bot or being that needs it.” He was reading over the results of his scans, mouth turned down. “We’re more closely tied to the Autobots right now, but that mostly because we don’t know much of what happened with the war. We were in stasis until we crashed.” He let the readings flicker away, and froze when he realized how much he’d shared. “Uhhh….”

Dreadwing only snorted, actually looking fairly amused. “Yes, I think it is quite clear now that you are no warrior, little youngling.” he rumbled. His expression darkened. “I understand why Prime stationed you here, out of sight. Megatron would see you hunted and slaughtered if he knew a Rescue Team still functioned.”

This made Blades freeze, and as he recalled Optimus’s first words to them, and that data pad, dread began to build in his spark. “What?” he asked weakly.

Dreadwing stared. “You were not told?” he sounded…angry. “That is foolish. It is not a pleasant tale, but you should have been told if only to ensure you understand the importance of your existence remaining secret.”

Blades swallowed. “Optimus doesn’t really tell us much of anything about the War, and the data pads he leaves only really cover the basic and important bits, not the details.” he whispered. “Does…does Megatron wanting my team offlined have anything to do with the “end of the Rescue Force”? I read about it in one of the data pads, but it was just a mention. I couldn’t find any details other than that one phrase.”

Dreadwing’s gaze was solemn as the little bot lifted his optics to meet it. “Yes.” he said bluntly. “In the early days of the War, Megatron grew angry that the Rescue Bots aligned with no faction, and he wanted to deprive the Autobots of any who might aid or help them. He ordered the destruction of the Rescue Force. The Headquarters was destroyed, and all Rescue Bots present were massacred. Any who survived, and any who had not been present in the initial attack, were systematically hunted and slain.”

Blades’s knees felt weak. He pressed his hands to Dreadwing’s chest to steady himself, grateful that the larger flyer didn’t protest it. His rotors rattled madly against his back with his distress, and his optics were blown wide.

“But that would mean…”

“You and your team are the last Rescue Bots in existence. All the others are offline and have been for many, many millennia.”

The copter’s knees gave out, and Dreadwing was quick to grasp his frame to keep him from hitting the ground. A sharp keen left Blades’s vocalizer, and the Seeker blessedly said nothing and made no moves to push as the youngling processed the new information.

It was, of course, that moment that the others chose to return.

——————————

Part 2

[hyungieyoongi]

Choices: “Run Away to You” Part 5

“If we start this again, I’m not letting you go. Not this time.”

“Then don’t. Don’t let me go.”

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Genre: Angst + FLUFFY FLUFF (it has been quite the buildup but we are HERE, folks!!!) 

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

Part 4 // Part 6

---

Music blared in your headphones as you wandered around the unfamiliar apartment. Marianne had already dropped off your duffel bag of supplies for your temporary stay here; it was currently waiting to be unpacked, left in the first random bedroom you could find.  

Yoongi had come back to his studio after your talk with Marianne, a member of his team from the label following closely behind him. Because photographers were still swarming outside of your building, the label decided it would be best to put you in an apartment on their premises. While the number of cameras had certainly dwindled since that morning, it was best for you to stay hidden and to keep a low profile.

As Marianne and Yoongi’s staff discussed the details of getting a bag packed on your behalf, Yoongi quietly informed you that the apartment was in the same building as his and the rest of the band’s shared home–the unit the label owned was for staff and security detail who needed to stay close to the members.

You hoped that meant you would have a chance to talk to him again. The two-week time limit that Marianne gave you had already started to tick like a clock in your head.

For now, you were left alone to get settled into your new space with strict instructions to stay offline and only answer the phone for Marianne, Yoongi, or the label. You opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water, singing aloud to one of your favorite songs that had just started playing.

Someone snuck up behind you, but your music was too loud to hear them. You spun around, about to take a sip of water, and flinched, a hand flying to your chest to stop your heart from pounding in surprise at the sight of Yoongi standing in front of you.

“Oh my gosh, Yoongi, you scared the shit out of me,” you exclaimed, pulling the headphones out of your ears. Yoongi laughed, his signature gummy smile making an appearance. You scowled. “Hey, stop laughing at me, you can’t just sneak up on people like that,” you said, feigning annoyance.  

“And you can’t just leave your door unlocked,” Yoongi scolded.

“I thought this building was supposed to be secure,” you countered.

“Still, can never be too careful,” Yoongi said, a mischievous look in his eyes, “anyone could have come in here.”

“Well, I guess I should be glad it’s you that broke in, huh?” you said, slightly taken aback by how flirtatious you sounded. Yoongi’s blush indicated his own surprise at the banter. He averted his eyes for a second, clearing his throat.

“I, um, I actually came by to invite you to dinner later. At the apartment.”

“Dinner? With you and the, uh, rest of the boys?” you asked, trying to stay casual. You had spent a decent amount of time with the members when you and Yoongi were dating a year ago. You couldn’t imagine you were their favorite person for leaving Yoongi the way you did.

“I figured since you were staying here for a while, you all might as well…reconnect,” Yoongi said hesitantly. You couldn’t help but be a little reluctant when you answered.

“Sure, I’ll be there.”

---

Yoongi gave you instructions on which apartment to go to at 8:00 p.m. tonight and then left your apartment for a rehearsal. You had plenty of time to run this night over again in your head, wondering if you were going to be an unwelcome guest. You and Yoongi might have been a secret from the rest of the world, but you were never able to hide from the boys. They had been just as much a part of your life as Yoongi. You had left them, too.

Before you could knock, the door swung open.

“Noona!” Jungkook exclaimed, grabbing you and spinning you around in a hug.

“Hey, Kook, I missed you.”

“We missed you too, especially hyung. I’m glad you’re back,” Jungkook told you with a bunny smile. His hair was dyed purple at the moment, the long length slightly curling at the ends to frame his face. “Come on, we’re all in the kitchen,” Jungkook said, leading you through their large apartment.

“Hey, Y/N, good to see you,” Taehyung said from his spot on the couch in the living room. Jimin waved at you enthusiastically, his eyes going back to the game the two were playing on the TV. You sighed happily, feeling more comfortable with their warm responses to your presence.

You made it to the kitchen, seeing Jin stir something on the stove in front of him. You gave him a shy smile.

“Hi, Jin.”

“Hey, Y/N, glad you could make it,” Jin said, wiping his hands on a towel by the sink before coming around to give you a quick hug.

“Me too.” Jungkook started poking at whatever was on the stove with a spoon, and Jin immediately started fussing at him to stop ruining his culinary creation.

“Y/N?” you heard a deep voice from behind you. Namjoon was looking at you, his hands casually in his pockets, his dimples indenting his cheeks from his smile as you met his eyes.

“Hey there,” you said, giving him a small wave. He let out a loud laugh at your timidness.

“Come here already,” he said, wrapping you snugly into his embrace. You looked over his shoulder, seeing Hoseok leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed against his chest intimidatingly, brows furrowed. You gulped.

Namjoon must have felt you tense in his arms, letting you go with a confused look on his face. He followed your gaze to where Hoseok was standing, and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, murmuring to you that you should probably go talk to him.

You took a tentative step forward.

“Hello, Hoseok,” you said, the name foreign on your lips. Your friendship with Hoseok had always been full of laughter and sunshine; there was hardly a time you used his full name rather than an affectionate nickname.

“Y/N,” he acknowledged with a nod. Ah, so he was going to be the one who gave you “the talk.”

“Maybe we should go…catch up?” you suggested, glancing behind you at the flurry of movement in the kitchen. Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook were desperately trying to look like they weren’t paying attention to the tense energy radiating between you and Hoseok right now. You wondered briefly where Yoongi was, not having seen him in the apartment yet, but you figured it was best to get this part of the evening out of the way first before you saw him.

Hoseok didn’t say anything, so you took it as an invitation to follow him when he turned on his heel and walked toward a room down the hallway. You closed the door softly behind you, waiting for the harsh words to come out of his mouth.

“I apologize for putting you in this situation. I know this is awkward, to say the least,” you admitted. “I’m sure you aren’t thrilled that I’m here. The past couple of days were a bit of a shock to me, too.” Hoseok took a deep breath, a frown gracing his normally happy features.

“I certainly never expected to see you again, especially when Yoongi came back upset because he talked to you.” You grimaced at the thought of how sad and angry Yoongi must have been to warrant this reaction from his best friend and bandmate. If he was in a similar state to you after your conversation about your past, you knew it had been bad. “The last time he was that upset, it was because you weren’t returning his calls because you dropped off the face of the earth. He said you didn’t even tell him where you went. I stayed up with him at night a lot, you know. Back then. I’ve never seen him like that. I certainly don’t ever want to see him like that again. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

You looked down at the ground, your eyes burning.

“Yes,” you breathed. You were so quiet, you wondered if he had heard you at all.

“If you make the choice to come back into his life–into our lives–you have to promise me, you’ll never leave him like that again,” Hoseok said, his voice the most serious you had ever heard it.

“I can’t walk away again, Hoseok. It would hurt me too much,” you made eye contact with Hoseok, his jaw clenched with emotion. “If he wants me to stay, I’ll stay. If he wants me to go, I promise you won’t have to see me or think about me ever again.”

Hoseok visibly deflated in front of you at your confession, his jaw unclenching.

“In that case, welcome back, Y/N.” You almost started crying in relief at his words. You knew that you weren’t going to just go back to how things were with any of the boys right away, but this was a start.

“Thank you, Hobi,” you said, voice cracking with relief. He seemed to relax at the familiar name.

“Now come on, Yoongi won’t be happy that I stole you away,” Hobi said, heading back to the kitchen. The boy in question was sitting on a kitchen stool, looking grumpy.

“Hey, hyung, were you looking for someone?” Hobi said teasingly. Yoongi’s head snapped toward his voice, his face lighting when he saw you.

“You came.”

“You invited me, didn’t you?” you said, walking closer to him, brushing your hand gently against his where it rested on his knee. His fingers instinctively trapped yours.

“Are you two going to sit there and make lovey eyes at each other all night, or can we eat?” Jin teased.

You squeezed Yoongi’s fingers, grateful for how easy it was for the eldest member to break the tension in any situation.

You felt right at home.

---

Your sides hurt from laughing so much at dinner. You had watched and tried to keep up with the boys’ antics, smile never leaving your face, your knee brushing against Yoongi’s more times than you could count.  

Yoongi gallantly walked you back to your own apartment door in the building after you hugged all of the members goodbye, thanking them for dinner. Hobi held you for an extra second longer than the rest, seeming to want to move on from the tense conversation the two of you had earlier. Not that you could blame him for being protective of his best friend and brother.

You and Yoongi stood in front of the open apartment door, and you were trying to figure out how to say goodnight to him. It was late, and the two of you had had an inordinately long day, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to say goodbye to him just yet.

Yoongi beat you to it.

“I’m glad you were able to come to dinner tonight,” Yoongi started. “I know that you’d probably rather be at home instead of having to spend the next couple of nights here though.”

“It’s okay, it’s not so bad,” you caved.

“No?” Yoongi took a step forward, his presence engulfing you. “And why is that?”

He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You felt your knees start to buckle before you caught yourself. He leaned into you, his breath fanning out across your lips. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling. He was mere inches away from connecting his lips to yours.  

“You,” you whispered. You waited, expecting to feel his lips on yours, but he pulled back at the last second.

“I should warn you, Y/N–if we start this again, I’m not letting you go. Not this time.”

The fear of being featured on the Twitter trending page and having your picture splashed on magazine covers seemed to take over your mind at the implication of his words. You decided to shove them aside, focusing instead on the man who occupied your thoughts for the past year.

“Then don’t,” you finally said. “Don’t let me go.”

His lips connected with yours, hands finding purchase on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers slipping into his soft, dark hair. He walked you backward into the apartment, closing the door behind him. Once you heard the click of the door, you knew you had solidified your choice.

You chose him.

Part 4 // Part 6

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Taglist: @loveyoongles​ @agustd-2020​ @delacyrose224​ @sunshinejunghoseokie​ @jinsearthh​ @alpacaparkaseok​ @sheebaba​ @diamonddia-mond​ @dearyoongii​ @tarahardcore​ @kawaiiixchan

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