#I don't blame you though... explaining what they are can be a little complicated-

[lexumpysfunland]

wait since sam is like a blob does he still eat? whats his fave food

The silly has a sweet tooth... they do love sugary stuff

[narcjsistx]

𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀 | OS

sae itoshi x fem reader ; words: 10k (10.051)

plot: having just arrived in spain, Sae notices that he's having trouble learning spanish. so he's advised to download an online game, but he never expected to play with the country's champion, who unexpectedly... is a girl?!. what if he has a crush on this girl who lives kilometres away from him?

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

SAE ITOSHI knew he was a genius, whether it was sports or anything else besides school. He was Japan's rising prodigy, having just moved countries just to undergo training that would bring him to absolute perfection. If that meant he wasn't a genius, then he didn't know what was. He had skills that kids his age didn't have, whether it was dribbling or simply passing the ball to a teammate, who was usually his younger brother Rin. He had the potential to become one of the best in the world, if not the best, at the tender age of 13, when the kids at his old school were still just starting to decide what to do as an after school job. He knew he was a genius, a prodigy

What he knew all too well was that school and its activities were not for him. Not that he did not have the ability, but objectively he had spent more time on the field than in the classroom since he was a child. The time that technically should have been spent at school was spent perfecting his technique or competing in some tournament in his prefecture, and all of this was impacting his ability to learn something new academically, like a new language. He was no longer in Japan

Japan and Spain were different

Japanese and Spanish were different

And of course, inside a football school in the center of Spain, in Madrid, he couldn't bring himself to speak Japanese anymore. For the first few days he tried, but no one understood him; then he tried with English, but that didn't work very well either. Sooner or later he would have to learn Spanish, and that moment had come true exactly one week after his arrival, when the coach had advised him to attend the free course that the school offered to foreign soccer players

He hated it, but he had started talking a little

"Mi nombre es Sae, mi apellido es Itoshi... mi deporte favorido es el futbol, yo soy un jugador de futbol de el club de el ReAl..." the boy repeats under his breath, writing down in his notebook the sentences that his mind formulates. Spanish was not like Japanese, which was written in a completely different way. It was a bit complicated, but he would never admit it out loud. Furthermore, he was the only one in his class, besides his teacher. The other foreign players had left, at least he knew that, already knowing a basic level of the language. Not him

"Still having trouble, Sae?" asks the man, leaning over to read the boy's notebook. He didn't dislike the professor, but his subject "No" says the boy, even though he doesn't yet know how to write the word 'apellido'. The teacher looks at the notebook for a few more seconds, then sighs as he sits down in the chair next to the boy, who watches him. He knew very well that he was stressing the man with his mistakes, very often made also due to few attention. He didn't blame him when he was nervous precisely because of him "You know, Sae... I think you have a problem with Spanish. I mean, you can write it pretty well and you're starting to speak it a little bit with the team members, I know that... but you're constantly forgetting it. You're forgetting the basics because you don't have something that's constantly pushing you to speak or write it" says the man, and this catches the attention of the little striker "Excuse me, what?" says the boy, seeing the man having a bit of difficulty explaining it to him "I don't even know how to explain it to you well. I've been teaching foreign members of ReAl for years but no one has ever been like you. You know, but you forget. You can say a sentence in perfect Spanish now and not know a basic rule of grammar in twenty seconds" says the man, and this makes the Japanese kid turn up his nose a little "Do you have proof of that?" asks "Can you tell me the names of the soccer roles in Spanish?" the man asks, and Sae thinks about it "Portero, centrocampista, defensor... atacante" says the boy, and the man nods "Good. And the '!' rule? How does it work?" he asks, and this time it's Sae who sighs. He doesn't even remotely remember it

The man nods, taking the notebook from him as he writes something on it "The '!' should be placed at the beginning of the sentence and at the end of the sentence, if it is an exclamation. At the beginning '¡' and at the end '!'" he writes and repeats aloud, and Sae can't help but admit that he's right. The room where they are both is silent for a few seconds, then the man writes something else in the notebook, placing it in front of him. Sae looks down, reading the name of something he has heard before "Futbolandia?" he reads aloud, and the man nods "It's an online game. It's about soccer, so you should like it. You can talk to other Spanish people while you play, or write in the chat, in Spanish of course. My daughter plays it, that's why I know it" the man says, and Sae looks at him a little perplexed "I've never played video games, not even when I was in Japan. I find them boring" he explains, but the teacher silences him almost immediately "You'll learn to love them. You want to become the best in the world, right? If you can't even beat a boss in this game, how can you expect to get to the Champions League?"

And so, in his dorm which was basically a small apartment, Sae was putting the game card into the console he had received thanks to the team staff. He still thought video games were boring, but proving the teacher right would have cost his dearly young ego. So he had spent a part of his salary to take this game online, which actually cost really little. Thanks to the internet he understood that it was simply a game where you were a soccer player without a salary, and the more you beat people online in random matches the more the teams offered money to join their team. The teams were real ones, like ReAl or the Italian Ubers, or even teams created by users. The more you entered a famous and rich league the higher your salary went, and once you reached a certain amount of fake money you could create your own team or become president of a group of teams. The game wasn't that boring, maybe

Sitting on the edge of his bed with the joystick in his hand the television turns on, revealing the game's start screen. After registration, an avatar appears that can be customized, and Sae had decided to change only the color of his hair, opting for a reddish color. He was a little more like his avatar now. He had started "play" immediately after, happening in the first game: they were all members probably newly registered like him, since they had no visible salary. There was voice chat open, but for the moment he preferred to remain silent: he heard people screaming in Spanish, and he understood little of what they were saying as they played. It wasn't time to talk

Unexpectedly, the game was more interesting than he thought. It had basic rules, but the online casual games were fun enough to play. And so, from having a zero salary, a few hours later his avatar already had the possibility of joining a team, since the real and created ones had made him offers. However, he had not yet spoken in the voice chat, still a little perplexed. As he waited for the new game to load, Sae noticed that his avatar had been matched with a much higher level team. The team was called "Kombucha Salty", which made him chuckle a bit. As the match begins, Sae notices how the team is noticeably very strong, but he also notices how the voice chat is calm, not full of shouts like he has always heard it until now. And until now he has always heard only male voices. Now, among the many, a female one stands out, and it's quite pretty. He doesn't even know why, but the calm reassures him that he can open the voice chat this time

"Hola" says the boy, and for a few seconds everyone is silent "What player are you?" asks a male voice "The number 27" replies Sae, and he can hear more than one person nodding "You're great" says someone else "Thanks" replies the boy, but he's trying to hear the female voice again, which has suddenly disappeared since he spoke. The match continues, the team scores the first goal "That was a good pass, right Y/n?" asks a male voice "It was!" the female voice replies

Sae, hearing the voice, stops moving the joystick for a few seconds. He hears the girl giggling, while she continues to play her game. It's strange to hear her talking among the many male voices surrounding her and her avatar, but it's as if he can separate her just to hear her voice. It is a particularly beautiful voice to his ears, which could easily be that of some singer; it's almost melodious, even though he has always heard many female voices, whether it is his mother's or his classmate's. But this one, this one he likes more than he normally should like a single voice

"Are you still alive, madridfan?" the voice asks, and Sae comes to life, moving his joystick "What? How did you call me?" he asks, and the female giggles "With your username. You have to earn a certain amount of salary to change it to a personalized one" she says, and her avatar passes the ball "I thought I had it set up differently. But then, why madridfan?" he asks, a little perplexed as he tries to steal the ball "The site creates the usernames by taking the position where the users play and putting the word 'fan' next to it. Are you from Madrid?" he asks, and Sae nods "I'm in Madrid at the moment" he replies, and the girl nods "Madrid is beautiful. My mother often sends me photos of the city, she lives there" the girl says, and Sae is intrigued "Aren't you from Madrid too?" he asks "No. I lived there for a little while when I was little, but I don't remember anything" the girl says, and her avatar freezes for a few seconds, then starts moving against the ball again "Do you like Madrid?" she asks, and he huffs a bit "Quite. I haven't visited it properly yet" he admits, stealing the ball as his avatar starts running, followed by the girl's "I thought you were born there. But you actually have a foreign accent. You speak good Spanish, though. You even know how to play this damn game" she replies, and he nods "Thanks. I'm Japanese, actually" he says, the ball approaching the net "Are you in Spain for a vacation?" she asks, stealing the ball "Sort of" he admits, and the girl giggles "Cool"

The game goes on in silence, proving quite difficult for both. Sae often tries to signal goals, but each time the girl's avatar steals the ball from him, passing it to another player. It's not stupid that she has such a high salary, after all she is really good. Also, the strange thing for him is that she is a woman: not that he has any prejudice, or maybe he does, but he has never seen soccer or online games about soccer as something for girls. The girls in his school preferred classic dance, instead of soccer. He has always been used to this, furthermore his prefecture did not have a women's soccer team. They were two opposite things for him, soccer and women

But this Y/n was damn strong at this game

The ball, in a last ditch attempt, is passed to a member of the team, who however has it stolen by a member of the girl's team, who immediately passes it to her. Her avatar runs so fast that it is impossible to catch up, while the ball quickly approaches the net, scoring a goal. The boys' voices explode in a satisfied scream while Sae, annoyed, puts the joystick down next to him. It was a pretty tough match, but he wanted to win, a bit like in everything he does. But when he hears the girl's carefree laughter, his annoyance vanishes a bit. The end of game appears on the screen, marking the last 5 seconds before voice chat closes. Sae doesn't know what to say, he was so fascinated by the girl's voice that he is surprised that now he has to abandon her, with the absolute certainty of not being able to hear her anymore. After all, these are random matches, there is little or no chance of ending up in a match a second time. It all started and ended in less than 15 minutes, that perhaps marked him a bit

He didn't even know why he was reacting this way, so out of character. Maybe it was the lack of home that made him react this way. Maybe the voice sounded a little like his mother's or Rin's, that's why he was so surprised. After all, he had left Japan relatively recently. Maybe this really was the cause, even if he didn't believe it was

The game officially closes voice chat, displaying Sae's profile screen, complete with his avatar and a slight increase in his salary. The girl is officially gone, her voice no longer filling his dorm room. Sae feels a strange sensation in his chest, he can't explain how and it bothers him; he's never been good with words, he knows that, but why can't he explain to himself this sudden attachment to such a trivial thing, a voice?. It's as if, since he arrived here, these 15 minutes were the most peaceful he's ever lived. He would never admit it, but his life is so complicated now that he often doesn't even have time to think. It's different from being at home in Japan, with Rin scoring goals thanks to his passes and the crowd cheering every time the ball ends up in the net. Here he has even more precise timetables than he already had in Japan, and although he got used to them right away, sometimes he finds it tiring to do everything, whether it's training or just spending time in the cafeteria with his teammates. This voice, on the other hand, seemed to have calmed him down, letting him think and breathe. It's so strange

So, while he picks up the joystick again, he decides to at least look at the girl's profile. He goes to the section of users he has recently interacted with, and clicks on the icon that resembles that of the girl's profile: what is shown before his eyes is practically the perfect account, probably one with such high ratings that he has never seen anywhere else. The account features all kinds of things available from the game, be it uniforms or special badges, while above the girl's avatar appears a writing that surprises Sae even more "#1 Official of Spain", title inserted by the game itself. He expected her to be strong, he had seen her playing, but not that strong. Yet, the title stood out on the account tab, which made Sae even more curious about the girl

On her profile she was listed as the president of the largest group of teams in Spain, president of 15 of the 25 in the league. Her salary had 10 zeros, making the number even difficult to pronounce. She was listed as having been in charge of the title for more than 6 months, while the registration had only taken place 10 months before. If this wasn't strange or surprising, Sae didn't know what was. How could she have come up with such a title in such a short time? How much time did she actually spend on the video game? Was she one of those unemployed adult women who found satisfaction in online games?

Nah, she couldn't have been an adult. Her voice was too shrill for that, maybe she was even younger than him. But this was impossible, since the minimum age of the game was 13, so maybe she was a little older than him. This did not change how surprising the result was, so surprising that Sae didn't immediately notice the notification at the side of the screen

"Kombucha Salty" offered you a new salary"

Without even seeing the offer, Sae had clicked accept. He didn't even know why he was doing that, after all, what were the chances that it was that girl who sent him the offer? Besides, only presidents were allowed to send offers, and he wasn't sure if she was the president of that team

The console screen showed the page dedicated to the team he had just joined, marking which members were active and which were not. The team's personal voice chat was open, but did not show who was in. Honestly, he didn't really care about making a fool of himself if he went in and out once he was sure she wasn't in the voice chat, he just cared about hearing her voice again and knowing she was there. Maybe he was exaggerating, after all he didn't know anything about her and the team, but there was something in him that told him he had to check, and now

Entering the chat, Sae noticed that no one was talking about soccer, but more about very random things, like school. There were about 5 or 6 people online, but he immediately recognized the girl, who was probably talking to a friend of hers. As soon as he entered many fell silent, everyone but her "You again, madridfan?" the girl asks, but not in a mean tone, more in a joking way. Sae nods, a little uncertain "Me again. Someone offered me entry to the club" the boy says "It was me" the girl says, and Sae can swear that for the first time since he's been here in Spain, he feels a small smile form on his lips. Luckily it's all online, it would have been embarrassing to see him smile "Oh. Thank you"

The girl giggles, a sound that makes the boy's muscles relax a bit "You were pretty strong in the game, I must admit! We only want strong members here, members who hate Kombucha"

This is the comment that makes Sae frown. He loves Kombucha, it's practically his favorite thing in the world. Especially the salty one, it's delicious

"The club name is misleading. I thought you liked Kombucha... not that I do" he says, and she nods "I know. That's why the group is strong, because we create confusion!" she says happily, and some of the men laugh with her. It's not exactly the answer he was expecting, he didn't even expect to lie about his tastes, but at the moment doing so seems like the right option. Sae nods, thinking a bit "I see. Cool" he says, and the girl seems a little uncertain "Don't tell me you like Kombucha" she says, and he shakes his head as if she can see it "No" he says, and she snorts "You're not telling me the truth!" he says, and Sae is a little in trouble "What would be the consequences?" he asks, and he hears her giggle "The enormous wrath of the champion of Spain" she says, and this makes him relax a little "I can't imagine how big it's. Bigger than the whole Japan" he says, and she laughs even louder "Of course! Wait, which is bigger, Japan or Spain?" she asks, and this makes the boy think a little, confused "I think Spain?"

In that moment, Sae hears his phone ring. He turns around, noticing the time on the screen: he should have been at practice for 5 minutes already, yet he is still sitting on his bed, and the coach is calling him. Before he even has a chance to hear the girl respond, he disconnects the voice chat, grabbing his phone and his workout bag, and storming out of his apartment. He was never late, he was always punctual, and yet that simple girl had made him lose track of time. He hated being late, but now he hated not being able to hear the girl's voice even more. It was strange, all

So, during the 4 consecutive hours of training, Sae did nothing but think about this strange situation. While kicking the ball he thought about how the girl could be physically and character wise, and he didn't know why but he imagined her with short black hair. She was probably a little older than him, maybe 15, but he wasn't sure. He just knew he wanted to talk to her one more time, and then another, and another. She had completely changed the cold and weird nature of the boy, who maubey was looking for a minimum of affection and compliments, the ones he was used to at home in Japan, from someone. And that someone seemed to be her, suddenly

Back in his apartment, hours later, he remembered that he had left the console with the game on. He had been running, so it remained as he had left it. It wasn't that strange after all, but as he approached the screen he noticed how there was a +1 on the private chat, something he had never used. It could have been anyone, right?

"I checked, and Spain is bigger"

The bag hit the floor as he reached for the joystick, typing the letters as quickly as possible

"I expected that. Although I think there is little difference between the two countries. Maybe Japan has more inhabitants"

"I don't think so"

She was also quick to respond to his messages

"I should be worried about having... wait, your name is Y/n, right?"

"Yeah! Can I know yours? Maybe you heard mine from other members of the voice chat"

"My name is Sae. Yes, I heard it from other members. I hope it doesn't bother you"

"Why should it bother me? I'm chiller than you think"

"I see. I expected more aggression from the country's champion"

"Only with those who don't cooperate with me during the random games. Usually I don't even bother talking, I just laugh"

"Cool"

"Do you only know how to use cool at your age?"

"You don't even know how old I am"

"I think about 15. Maybe less"

"I have 13, actually"

"ARE YOU SERIOUSLY THE SAME AGE AS ME???"

"are you 13 too?"

"YEAH!!!"

"I thought you were a few years older than me, honestly. But your high pitched voice gave my theory away"

"Is it really that high pitched? I thought you were older just because of your tone of voice, but maybe it's just the Japanese accent that makes it deeper than it really is"

"It could. Do you understand Japanese?"

"You're the first Japanese person I know, honestly. I've never left Spain and I speak English well... but that's it"

"It's not a small thing to know two languages. I know Japanese because well, I am, but my Spanish is not that good. For now"

"I think the opposite, honestly! You have really good pronunciation, maybe just a little bit in the grammar when you speak... but it doesn't really show that much"

"I have to improve. I have little time to do it"

"Before returning to Japan?"

"More or less"

"I can help you. If you have time, we can play a few games together before I go to sleep. Only if you teach me a little about Japan, though"

"Yes, it can be done. Which server?"

"Wait, I'll send you the link"

This girl was strange, but strangely so easy to get along with. Bedtime games had turned into all night gaming sessions, something Sae had never done; he held his nightly routine sacred, yet it was 2:00 AM and he was still talking to this girl on voice chat, playing yet another game. He wasn't tired, he liked listening to her talk and helping him with his pronunciation. Also, he had the chance to speak Japanese again after a long time, so it was fine with him. The conversations were calm, not going on any serious topic, at least not for that moment: the girl had told him about another girl in her school that she couldn't stand, and he had told him about his younger brother Rin, who he teased about his chubby cheeks. They were normal things, as teenagers as they both were, and yet they sounded so important to Sae's ears, that he didn't miss a single word that came out of the girl's mouth. Maybe he reacted like this, with so much attention, because he actually had no one to talk to about the normal things of adolescence, neither here nor at home

At home in Japan, he was the budding striker prodigy, already famous for his nascent career

Here in Spain the other teenagers like him were busy training for the team of ReAl

Everyone, both at home and here, treated him for what he was, a prodigy. No one treated him for what he really was but which he also hid a little because of his cold nature, that is, a simple teen

Yet this girl didn't know who Sae was, she didn't know anything about him. She didn't treat him differently. They were just chatting like two teenagers would, with an unusual, at least for him, tranquility. It wasn't a given, not at all

"I think I have to go to sleep. We can play tomorrow afternoon, if you want" says the girl after yet another match won, while Sae has tired and sleepy eyes "I don't know if I'm free. In the evening?" he asks, and she nods while her avatar goes offline "Okay. Goodnight, Sae"

The boy turned off the console, while he too was hugging the warm blankets, with the noise of the cars of Madrid in the background. He had recently downloaded that game and yet he was already thinking that it had been one of the best decisions of his life. He would think about the tiredness due to the lack of hours of sleep when he woke up

The next morning, while he was lazily getting ready for practice, he turned on the console just out of curiosity. Not for any reason in particular... maybe. Or at least he liked to believe so. And just as he was logging into the game, a notification appeared on the screen. It came from her

"You didn't specify whether you go to school or not, but if so, have a good day!"

"Thank you. You too"

And so, for the next two weeks after that night, Sae found himself spending every night locked in his dorm, voice chat on and a few drops of eye drops. He had started skipping gym before going to sleep, or rushing to dinner at the canteen, just to turn on the console before. He always played with her, both as a duo and as a team, but honestly he didn't care much about the mode, he just liked hearing her voice and hearing her laugh every time a move went wrong. She treated him like he was normal, while outside that room everyone was scrutinizing him every second of his life; it was a way to break away from the expectations of an entire nation, or maybe two, to be with her. Maybe he was getting soft, he who for 13 years of his life had categorically hated video games, all because of a single voice to which he didn't even give a face, given that in fact neither of them had ever spoken about themselves in an extremely personal way. Not that it weighed on him that much, but he was extremely curious to see who this voice belonged to, which he was starting to dream about even at night, in the few hours when the console was off

“Can I ask you something?” the girl asks, and Sae pauses the game “Tell me” he says, a little curious “Would it be weird if I asked for your phone number? We could just talk... more, if you want"

If this was the god of soccer who was pardoning him after years of pure sacrifice towards this sport, Sae had to thank him, really deeply

"It's not a problem. I'll write it to you in chat" says the boy, but he can't repress the little smile that has formed on his lips, which haven't curved like this for a while now. A small, chuckle can be heard from the voice chat, and Sae couldn't ask for more. What the hell was happening to him?

A few hours later, with his console off and one more contact on his phone, Sae was lying on his bed talking to the girl. He still had to read the messages his parents and his brother Rin had sent him, but he had promised himself that he would do it shortly before falling asleep. Talking to her through messages wasn't that different in the end, but deep down he liked the fact that it was their chat, and that no one else but the two of them had the chance to see what they were talking about. Not that they were serious topics, no, not that yet, it was already a miracle that she had given him her number, honestly if he had been in the same situation he wouldn't have trusted it online. But she was her, he didn't know her very well yet but she didn't seem like a bad person to him. He had never trusted the online world so much, in Japan it was often a place for perverts or anime fanatics, which disgusted him a little, not for the fact itself but for the way these weirdos behaved. It was a bit of a strange place, and even if he wanted to he didn't have time, at home, to be online: if in Japan there were many training sessions, here they had tripled

"Anyway. Do you have any other friends online?"

"You're the first. I've never been online, actually. I didn't have the time or the inclination, honestly"

"This is not cool. I practically live online! jk, but I spend a lot of time there. So I'm your first friend?"

"If you want to put it that way, yes"

"This is cool tho! Wait, so you don't know much about friendship stages, right?"

"Not very much. Zero"

"OH. so you don't know about face reveals or voice reveals...? we skipped the voice stage, but okay. it's normal"

"I don't know anything about it"

"Then, wait"

Before he realized it a picture of a girl appeared on his screen. It was her, it was definitely her. And hell, to say she was beautiful was an understatement, he hadn't expected that. I mean, she was pretty, sure, but this was beyond his standards. She had done it so unexpectedly that he remained staring at her for a few seconds, practically enchanted. He had seen many girls his age but perhaps now the spanish girls, especially her, had an extra place on his list. He noticed the second message after at least a minute

"This is me. It's a face reveal. You don't have to do it, just do it when you feel ready!"

And before he even knew it, he was already sending a photo of himself, one from a few days earlier. Not that there was much difference

"It's okay?"

"MORE THAN OKAY. I imagined you with dark hair, but you're cute, Sae!"

He had received many compliments, but all about his talent, about his ability to play without appearing tired. Never about his physical appearance, it wasn't common

"My brother and my father have dark hair. I could have taken after them"

"Wait, no! I like your reddish. it's special. now I understand why you put your hair that way, on your avatar"

"You are right"

It was from that moment that Sae began to realize that he had a soft spot for that girl. Y/n was simple, she didn't know who he really was, she treated him like no one else treated him. He liked being thought of as normal, at least in his room, when he was on a call with the girl. He could easily be the prodigy of Japan outside his dorm and still be Y/n's online friend. He liked the balance that had transformed during the first weeks, which had now transformed into three months. It was a bit of a special time for Sae, soon he would have his first U-18 match as a member of ReAl. He wasn't anxious, he trusted in his knowledge, but he was worried about something else, something that seemed huge to him, like a big heavy rock: he didn't know if she followed soccer. In fact, she had never said anything very personal about herself, maybe she was reserved in that aspect. Not that he cared. But it was strange, considering how extroverted she was about the rest of things. What would he have done if, by chance, she had seen him?

"Shall we play tomorrow afternoon?" the girl asks, her microphone not receiving the signal well. He has the match tomorrow afternoon, and he's worried about her finding out, not about the match "I... I don't think I can. No, I'm not there" he says, scratching the back of his neck "You usually can! You have something important, you have to meet a girl?" she says jokingly, but he immediately approaches the microphone "NO. I just have to... do some things. I probably won't be there until the afternoon after" he says, but he hears a jolt from the other end "I understand. See you then"

The girl left the game. Silence

Perhaps a more convincing and kind excuse should have been used, since he hadn't explained himself well and perhaps even seemed rude

Maybe Y/n was angry?

Holy shit.

And so, a few hours later on the ReAl bus, Sae felt practically dead. Maybe Y/n had been offended, and besides, tomorrow would be his birthday; he wanted her wishes, yet he was convinced that he would not receive them. He was worried, but he didn't show it outwardly. Not that he had ever done so in the last 13 years of his life, but that wasn't the point. Maybe he should have written to her, asked her if she was offended or even apologized directly. But that wasn't his style. So Sae played the whole match with a little discomfort in his chest, not so big as to confuse him from the main objective, the victory, which happened with a good score of 3-1, with a goal scored by him. The cameras had been filming him since he'd practically entered the field, his name had been shouted so many times by the commentators that the walls probably knew his name by now. If this was a way for Y/n to find out, even though he still hoped not, he was doing it perfectly. Damn. He was hating soccer a little bit

He didn't get his phone back until after midnight, only realizing it was his birthday. He was officially 14, and Y/n hadn't wished him a happy birthday...

"When were you thinking of telling me you were a soccer player? A good one, I must admit"

"You found out"

"Well, my sister is a ReAl fan. The game was also important. When I saw you, I had a shock"

"I can understand it"

"Why didn't you tell me you were famous?"

Maybe it wasn't the right time. But he had to

"You're the only one who treats me like a teenager. Others treat me like a prodigy, you don't. And it's nice to be normal, at least when I talk to you or when we play. I thought you'd change your attitude if you found out"

"I wouldn't have any reason to, Sae. None. I treat you for who you are, for how you deserve to be treated, I'm sorry that it's not a given for you. But you don't have to worry about me, because for me you're just Sae, not Sae Itoshi"

"It's not a given for me. Thank you"

"Please don't lie to me anymore. I hate it when people do that, especially people I care about them so much"

It was strange to feel butterflies in his stomach. For him, at least, it was strange. He didn't even know why he was reacting that way

"And I forgot, happy birthday ♡"

Maybe he knew why she was reacting that way. Maybe he didn't just have a soft spot for her

If the first months were like that, the following ones became the confirmation, at least for him, that perhaps he felt love for her, just for her: he was sure it wasn't even a crush, because he knew it was different. He was really in love, and it worried him a little. He knew about the beautiful side of love, the one where you kiss and hug; his parents loved each other, and often when they kissed he and Rin were disgusted. Sae preferred to run on the beach near the house with a ball between his feet, not to give kisses to anyone, not that he had anyone. But that was in the past, before he came to Spain and met her. The problem was that he didn't even know what love was, since he had never experienced it before: he knew the practice, but after? What happened?. But the problem was that there wasn't even the possibility of practice here, since he was in Madrid and she was in Seville, so many kilometers away

During the other months, she had told him a lot about herself: she lived in Seville, her parents were divorced but still on good terms, her parents worked between Madrid and Seville, especially his mother who was a photographer. She lived with his older sister, who was 21 years old. She was a few months younger than him and loved to keep her hair loose. Also, despite being the champion of the game, she didn't even know how to kick a ball in real life. It was all information that he had recovered over time, thanks to calls and other, but which was important to him, very important

They were separated by 530km, a distance that more than once he had thought of eliminating by using a part of his salary, taking that damned plane ticket that he had saved a few months ago. He wanted to see her, smell her hair, have the chance to hug her. He simply wanted to be for a while by her side, and not on the other side of a screen that often didn't work due to the connection. He simply wanted the chance to hold her hand, if she had ever let him

"I don't think I've ever told you something" the girl says, the screen showing her face as she paints her nails "Remember Kombucha Salty?" she asks, and Sae nods as she heads toward the team's infield "Remember what I told you back then?" she asks, and he rolls his eyes "That was 2 years ago. I don't remember that well" the boy says, and the girl laughs "Okay, we've known each other for a long time, but it seems like a stretch not to remember. Is the color nice?" the girl asks, holding up her reddish nails to the screen. Sae looks at them, nodding "Nice. What were you saying?" he says, and she composes herself "Oh, right. I told you I didn't like kombucha, because I hated it" she says, and Sae suddenly remembers. Actually, she doesn't know that it's his favorite drink, he never told her before that statement "I remember" he says, coming into the infield "Well... I lied to you. I really like kombucha, especially the salty kind! But... I wanted to look cool in front of you, I don't even know why. It's stupid, I was stupid at the time. But now I think about it and I actually never admitted it to you" she says, and Sae's eyes widen a bit "Do you like Kombucha?" he asks surprised, then goes back to his usual demeanor "I like it, I like it a lot. Too bad that here in Seville they make it disgusting, it tastes like shit" she says, and he chuckles internally at her comment "Can I tell you a revelation too?" he asks, and she nods "I love Kombucha too" he says, and this time she's the one who's surprised "ARE YOU SERIOUS?" she asks through the phone, and he nods "Very serious. They make it pretty good in Madrid, I must admit" he says "Fucking lucky, as usual. I want it too" she says, disconsolate

Seeing her like this, Sae can't help but tease her in her head. She's so damn adorable when she does that, whether it's for this or anything else

"As soon as you come to Madrid I'll take you to the place where they do it best. So you can say I'm right he says, but his comment almost seems like an invitation to a possible date. Sae notices how the girl has gone silent, but also the way she's smiling through the screen "I would love to" she says, poorly hiding her embarrassment

If only she knew how much he really wants to do this, take her everywhere, where she wants. If only she knew how much teasing her makes him laugh

"You know, I was thinking" he says, trying to fill the silence that had arisen "I was wondering, we'll see each other sometime, right?" he asks "Well. I think so" she says, yet looking a little uncertain, in Sae's eyes "You think so? Not sure?" he asks, and she snorts "I mean, it will happen sooner or later. But... I can't explain it to you. We've known each other for two years and I trust you, but it would be strange to meet you in person" she says, and this raises an eyebrow to the boy "What do you mean?" he asks, a little defensively "I'm used to the idea of you online, or rather, of the Sae I know. Not the one who plays for ReAl and who kicks the ass of some foreign team every month" she says, and even though her answer makes him chuckle a little, he's not convinced "You didn't answer my question" he says, and the girl seems to be a little under pressure "Forget it" she says, but this makes Sae a little nervous "I'd rather talk about it, and now. Don't you want to see me?" he asks

He doesn't even know why he's getting so nervous, since it's not something he does that often. But the uncertainty in Y/n's eyes doesn't affect him very well. Maybe there's something wrong that he doesn't know about

The girl looks down, nervously playing with a lock of her hair. It's like she's nervous like him, but for other reasons "I want to see you, Sae. But there are other reasons..." she says "What?" he asks

"I don't know whether to hug or kiss you"

If he had been nervous before, now his body was paralyzed. He didn't even want to understand if he had heard the words correctly, perhaps they had come out strangely due to connection problems. But no, it couldn't be. She had said what she had said, and damn, this surprised him so much that for the next 10 seconds he held his breath, as if he were underwater. But actually, since he had known her, he had always been under water: it bothered him to admit that he had grown fond of her in a few hours, that they had now known each other for 2 years, and that for the past 1 year he had considered her as more than just a friend. But Sae wasn't familiar with love, he didn't know how it worked with a person by his side, and above all she wasn't by his side. But actually, at the beginning, he wasn't even familiar with Spanish, which he now spoke perfectly. Could he do the same method with this too, even though she was so far away from him?

And then, after this, he didn't even know what she really thought. He had imagined it many times, but he had always preferred not to talk about it. He had often wondered if he even liked her a little, but she often mixed irony with seriousness, so it was difficult to understand her. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes he didn't. It was in one of these moments, a fairly important one

"Sorry, what?"

"I'm sorry" she says, a little panicked, bringing the phone closer to her face "Forget it. Pretend that I never said anything, that this conversation never started-" she says "Stop. We can talk about it tonight, calmly ?" he asks. He sees her sigh heavily, a little defeated, as she nods. The phone call ends like this, with her hanging up

The training he was participating in wasn't working. There were another 4 hours left before he could talk to her, lock himself in his dorm and finally clarify the situation: would he have declared himself? He didn't know, although he was considering the option. He knew Y/n, and beyond her usual irony, she really seemed very serious when she said it, and the subsequent panic had betrayed her false irony a bit. He didn't know how to feel, honestly: anxious, maybe a little, but more perplexed. He wasn't afraid to declare himself, he would have done it sooner or later anyway, but the sentence she had said, in that unexpected way, had completely paralyzed him. He had been perpetually anxious for months and months about making strange comments that might have made him disgusting in her eyes and she had come out like that?. Maybe he really didn't know her that well, if he hadn't read her language for so long to understand that, maybe, she had feelings for him too, like him

But if he had eventually declared himself, what would have happened? Would they get together like a couple? Would she have rejected him?

And if they became a couple, how would they make it work? There were the kilometers as obstacles, like the walls that Sae smashed, in his head, when he headed towards the net to score a goal. Would it have been an online relationship?

He was too serious a person to even be anxious about this. He was fucking Sae Itoshi, yet he was becoming a softie for a girl he met online

Maybe he had always been a softie and never realized it, ignoring it by playing soccer in Japan

So finally, without having had dinner, Sae found herself locking himself in his room, once again skipping his nightly gym time. It was anxiety, she hadn't written to him since she hung up and that was unusual, as she often texted him even when she knew he couldn't reply. Without even taking off his sweatshirt he threw himself on his bed for calling the girl, who he sincerely hoped would answer. He didn't know what was going on in her head, maybe she didn't want to talk about it

"Hey" says the girl's voice. She was lying on her bed, little plushies surrounding her while her hair was a mess. She was gorgeous. Sae clears his throat "Hey. Have you eaten?" he asks, and she nods, sighing "Look, can we talk about it right now? I've been dying of anxiety since it happened this afternoon, I've spent hours believing you hated me... wait, you don't hate me, right?" she says, sounding almost sad. He chuckles, mollified by her behavior "Obviously not. If I hated you, I wouldn't have called you back to talk about it" he replies, and she seems to breathe a sigh of relief "Thank goodness. So... what should we say?"

Admitting right away that he had loved her for so long was maybe not the right option, at least not at the moment. Even if he was tempted to do so

"You said something pretty important today" he says, a little hard to explain "It's not something you'd say to a friend, I think. You were serious or?" he continues, waiting for an answer. Through the screen he sees her in a bit of difficulty, biting her nails "Would it be a problem if I said I was serious?" she says, and he can practically feel his heart beating so hard it might pop out of his ribcage "Oh" he says, but curses himself when he sees her getting agitated "Is that a problem?" she asks nervously, but he shakes his head "No. It wouldn't be. Sorry, you took me by surprise" he says, trying to find the right words "What does that mean though...? Is that what I think?"

She didn't know the answer. Sae saw real, pure difficulty in her eyes, as if she had a block she wanted to overcome but it was too big for her

"Look. Can I speak first?" he says, trying to help her. She nods, frowning her eyebrows "Go"

Maybe it really was the right time

"I'll try to be as direct as possible, you also know how much I don't like not being precise. It's quite simple to explain it to you, but I admit that I'm having trouble too... the reality is that I like you, and quite a lot. And it's not something new, I think I've been in love for a year and a half now if not more... the truth is this. I didn't tell you before for the simple fear of distancing you, and distancing the only person who treats me like 'Sae' and not 'Sae Itoshi' might have made things a little heavier for me. I don't know exactly how you feel, but well, if you feel the same way about me I would seriously like to be your boyfriend, Y/n. Not just yours friend. But I can't read your mind, so, how do you feel about me?"

If this was the feeling of lifting a heavy boulder off your shoulders, Sae was experiencing it right now. It had taken so little, yet it had explained everything he had felt all this time. He was more peaceful, but he had yet to hear her words

"It's just that I like you too, Sae. And a lot. A big lot, I don't even know how to quantify it. I've been thinking about it for a while, and I won't deny that once I even dreamed of us kissing... maybe that's when I realized that you weren't just a simple crush. The problem is that distance scares me"

His heart was abandoning him. Maybe he was dying, but at least from happiness

“I can understand that. But I... I want to make things work. I seriously care about you, about us, about what could happen if we were a couple"

"Me too. But... how do we do it?"

“Let the time take effect and my wallet get some money out to make me come to you?”

"That might work. But..."

"I'm just as scared as you are. But I trust how I could make you happy"

That's when Sae knew he finally had his first girlfriend. Maybe he was dead and didn't realize it, but he was happy, fucking happy. He was probably so happy that in his life he had never felt a sensation like that, the one that perhaps his parents also feel when they kiss. He was with the girl he loved and he honestly couldn't ask for anything better than to have her in his arms. He really cared about her so much, he didn't want to make things difficult or burdensome for her: he seriously wanted to make her happy, the happiest

He was inexperienced, for the first time in his life he seriously didn't know what to do, many times he had doubts about how being in a relationship actually worked; but he saw you smiling, so maybe he was doing something right. You spent more time on the call, each on your own business, but you both liked the idea of having the other watching you. It was as if you were in the same room, but chilometres apart: he cooked, you did your skincare, he trained alone and you studied. Distant, but present, and you were fine with that

After less than a month, the girl was the first to say 'I love you', even though they both knew they had been doing it for a long time. But that was just absolute proof that Sae had to do what he had in mind since day one: go to her. The problem is that she was studying and he couldn't go so far from Madrid, due to special training and monthly matches. Furthermore, the campus was very strict with the players, who only rarely let them out on off days. And Sae was certainly no exception, he had the same rules as everyone

But the opportunity presented itself when they had already been together for two months: Y/n was going to be in Madrid for a week, to spend time with her parents. Sae nearly choked on his dinner food when she told him the news: they would meet, he would finally have the chance to hold her in his arms, and if she wanted, he would even kiss her. Sae's family didn't know he was with a girl, while she had mentioned that only her father knew, because he was the parent she trusted slightly more in matters like these, but he honestly didn't care. If her father would have asked him to show up, he would have done so. He didn't want to tell his family or the world because he simply believed it wasn't the time, not because he was ashamed of her: he simply believed it was his thing, his only thought, he was famous, but he also had a private life. He wanted to enjoy his privacy with his pretty girlfriend

"Are you already in Madrid?"

"Yes! the taxi is taking me to where my father works, I will stay there for about an hour and then after I will arrive to you"

"Allright. I can't believe it"

"ME NEITHER!! are we really going to see each other in an hour after spending almost 3 years writing to each other online? :<"

"It's happening. I can't wait"

"I can hug you as soon as I see you, right?"

"Only if I can kiss you afterwards"

"Acceptable. CAN'T WAITTT"

"Me neither. See you soon, love"

"You can count on it! love u ♡"

But Sae had decided that he would show up there well in advance; he wanted to get her some flowers and maybe a cold drink, since it was damn hot. As he left his dormitory and walked across the ReAl campus, the boy was realizing how it was so unexpected and yet so beautiful. He knew he loved her, that he wanted to make her happy, to simply stay by her side until the moment he could no longer due to greater forces, such as death. To him, she had become everything in such a short time that he wondered how he had managed to keep his feelings private for so long: he had deprived himself of the love of the most fantastic girl in the world out of a stupid fear, yet now they were an actual couple, she was his girlfriend and he was her boyfriend, the first for both, and hopefully the last. But to put a ring on her finger maybe he would have to wait a few more years, maybe 10, even though he was still convinced that she was the one

As he walked towards the exit of the campus, he noticed how the teacher who had made him download Futbolandia was walking towards the class he still managed for foreign students: Sae hadn't attended that class for a long time now, he now knew Spanish as like his native language, yet it was thanks to that man that he had met the one who was currently his girlfriend. He had never been someone to say thank you to someone, but maybe he had to this time. He absolutely had to

"Profe, I have to tell you-" says the boy as he approaches, but is petrified when he sees who is a few steps away from the teacher “Y/n, my daughter. How was the flight, dear?"

In front of him, less than 5 meters away, was his girlfriend, there was his Y/n, and, if he understood correctly, she was his teacher's daughter

Sae didn't need to say anything, the girl automatically turned around recognizing the sound of the voice. They looked at each other, this time without a screen dividing them; they could see their reflection in each other's eyes, smell their scent, the way they were dressed entirely. The boy's heart had left his chest, perhaps to go and take the girl's hand, who had also abandoned her body. It was as if, although surprised by the discovery, for him now only she existed, only and exclusively her among all the billions of people in the world. He was in love, he really was

"Sae, what are you doing here-"

Neither of them heard the teacher's words, as they threw themselves into each other's arms: as if automatically the boy's hands ended up on the girl's hips, while her arms tightened around his neck, in such a sweet embrace to be special. The contact, what they had sought for so long, they were finally experiencing: for Sae, the girl's smell and warmth was hid new favorite sensation, as her skin tightened under his hands, holding her as close to him as possible, as if afraid she might go back behind the screen. He couldn't believe it was finally happening, after dreaming so many times that he could do it; finally, everything he wanted was here, here with him and only him

And even before he realized it, Sae was already lifting her chin so he could kiss her, as if he wanted to finish everything off by putting the icing on the cake. Her lips were soft, sweet, fresh; if this was heaven, the world cup, anything he liked, he wanted to be left like this, with his girlfriend hugging him. It was a kiss that he had often imagined, and that he was now experiencing with an emotion that almost made his stomach weak, due to the butterflies. Everything was perfect, she was perfect, his love for her was perfect. Perfection, for him, was this moment

When they broke away, Sae couldn't help but hide the smug smile on his lips, which was small compared to her girlfriend's "Maybe you should have told me about this detail about your father" says the boy, caressing her face "Maybe. But I didn't know it either until a few minutes ago"

"You're here"

"I'm here because I love you"

Sae finally turned to his teacher, the girl still held tightly in his arms. He wouldn't let her go easily

"Did you see, Profe? I learned Spanish"

[luveline]

we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k

“Spencer, are you coming in?” 

The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 

“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 

He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 

You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 

“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 

Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 

“Shot at.” 

“Is it bad?” 

Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 

He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 

You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 

“I'm looking at you.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 

Of course he knows that. 

“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 

“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 

Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 

Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 

He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 

Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.

“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 

“It's not your fault, Spence.” 

“What would you call it?” 

You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 

“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 

He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 

“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 

Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 

“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 

“I told you it's not your fault.” 

“For not being here to hold your hand.” 

Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 

“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“What was I supposed to think?” 

He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 

This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 

They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 

“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 

He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 

“Forever, then.” 

For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 

[muletia]

continuing the tradition of me writing normal stuff and then flashbanging you guys with the most unhinged smut...

here's more bimbo!Optimus and bimbo!Ratchet

I blame @jinuaei for this (this is a joke btw, you are a very epic person and I love your content. thank you for interacting with me hehe <3)

optimus x human!reader x ratchet valveplug

cw: bimbo!optimus, bimbo!ratchet, reader using a strap, breeding kink

word count: 1000

You don't even have time to settle comfortably on the bed before Optimus casts his shadow over you, climbing onto the softest berth he has ever had the pleasure of touching. He places his knees on either side of your thighs, trapping you between himself and the bed, lowering his helm so close that your foreheads touch and giving you a glimpse into optics shining with a pastel pink hue, in which you could swear the pupils had been replaced by little hearts.

"Opti, what are you doing?" you ask, with quiet terror, watching as his hips lower further and further, his valve aiming perfectly at your always-ready plastic spike. "Optimus, stop. Optimus!" you yell, seeing that your gentle tone isn't getting through to him.

Only now does he finally stop, though you see him hesitate for a moment, lowering his hips another millimeter, until at last he gives you the saddest puppy look you've ever seen in your life; tears already shimmering in the corners of his optics, even though you hadn't given him any reason to cry. Yet.

"Whyyyy?" he asks, a pout making him even more adorable.

"Because you’ll break both my legs," you explain, although it’s completely pointless, because the slight tilt of his helm and the completely dim expression on his face make it clear to you that Optimus isn’t processing any concepts not directly related to fragging.

"H-huh?"

In this situation, all you can do is sigh.

"You're too heavy to sit on my lap, sweetheart" you try, hoping that maybe this concept will spark some flicker of thought in the liquid remains of his processor.

"But whyyy?" he continues digging, looking so crestfallen that you almost want to comfort him.

"I-I won't be too, uh, heavy," Ratchet cuts in, now kneeling right beside you, a giant pout decorating his faceplate.

He's already positioning his hips toward your lap, just like Optimus, his modesty panel already slid aside, preparing to devour your spike.

"No, Ratty, I'm sure both of you would crush my—"

"Hey, that's my spike! I was here first!" Optimus interrupts you.

"But you're too, uh, heavy!"

Feeling the atmosphere grow more and more tense by the second, and seeing them pressing their chassis against each other, glaring, but far too stupid for logical arguments, you take the opportunity to slip out from beneath Optimus’s knees, retreating deeper into the bed. Only then do they seem to tear their attention away from comparing whose chest is bigger and redirect it toward you, now sitting cross-legged with your elbow resting on your knee and your head on your clenched fist.

Surprised as to why their beautiful, sweet [Name] has decided to pull away from them, they finally stop squabbling and crawl towards you, their faceplates almost touching, twisted in sadness at the lack of attention, mere inches away from your face. The concept of personal space now completely unfathomable and nonexistent. Far too complicated for such silly mechs.

"[Name]?" asks Optimus, worried. "You don't like us anymore?"

"Y-you don't want to frag us?" Ratchet hiccups.

"I like you and I dream of nothing else" you confess, but meeting their tilted helms and the repeated, confused "Huh?" you only have the strength to roll your eyes. "But since you can’t behave, we're going to try something different today."

Before they can flood you with another barrage of dumb huhs, you reach out to find their valves with your hands, teasing their lips. You pretend to slide a finger deeper, but in reality, you glide only shallowly between their lips, wet with transfluid, just enough to swap their confusion for goofy smiles of pleasure.

"Neither of you will get my spike for now" you inform them. Slowly, you add more fingers, now pushing deeper and deeper, but still with only the intent to tease.

Of course, nothing you're saying is actually reaching them. Their thoughts are entirely consumed by your fingers working inside them and your warm breath so close to their audials, as you decided to use their joined arms as a rest for your torso. Nothing else matters to them. Only you and the constant need to be full of your thick spike, demolishing their valves, and to be fragged, fragged, and fragged until they can't move a single digit. Until they're convinced you've sparked them up, filled with transfluid and your love, now synonymous in their minds with rough, far from intimate breeding.

Your fists, sunk to the wrists inside their valves, might as well be two thick spikes. Both belonging to you. Both working solely with the intent of making them your beautiful, dumb carriers.

There’s nothing else they dream of in this moment.

"S-sparklings!" Ratchet begs, now smeared with drool and tears. "Sparked up, pleaseee!"

"Make us, ah, carriers, p-please," Optimus echoes him.

"Pfff, but you realize I’m fisting you, right? Even if I wanted to, I can't get you pregnant with just my hands."

"[Name], hah please!" Ratchet begs again. "Pretty, ah! [Name] please spark us up!"

You can't hold back a loud burst of laughter. Oh, how exquisite it is, how hilarious and arousing at the same time.

Your two adorable, brainless little toys.

You sincerely hoped that their supply of synthetic energon would never run out. At least not until you figured out a way to truly spark them up if that's what they so desperately wanted. Even if they didn’t exactly understand what they were actually begging you for.

And when you hear giggling behind you, interrupted every now and then by pleas for sparklings and mewls and moans, you crack again, letting out another laugh, because those two idiots surely heard you laughing and decided to join in — completely oblivious to the fact that you were laughing at them, not with them.

And god, if that doesn’t make you want to torment them even more.

[iscdisc]

Whiteboard doodles for today !

Tang Shen supremacy 5ever- 🫶

I desperately want a 2012 timeline to exist where Shredder gets redeemed (At least, as much as he can realistically speaking-) and Tang Shen never passes away- But I know it's kind of impossible for both those things to exist at the same time,, 😭 Lmao

But imagine if Yoshi (Splinter) acknowledged Saki's (Shredder's) deteriorating mental health (Which is canon. Have you seen this man in Season 4? LMAO) and tries to reach out more. Despite knowing how much his brother wants his dead. Despite knowing he's the reason his wife is gone and his daughter didn't know he existed for years / painted him as her Mother's murderer.

Because if you really dissect Saki as a character, he's kind of an understandable / "relatable" antagonist-?? His biological Father (Honestly whole family I'm sure-) was murdered by his new adoptive Father (Yoshi's), his entire clan was taken out and he was swiftly indoctrinated into the Hamato Clan as an infant, I'm sure he practically got the Naruto treatment from the Hamato Clan (Always being judged for descending from the Foot Clan, like he asked for that or something-), Yoshi presumably was treated significantly better than him + was most definitely the favorite child between the two of them when it came to their Father-

This is getting a little theoretical here, since we don't exactly know the timeline between Tang Shen and Yoshi & Saki, but my personal opinion is that:

Saki met Tang Shen first- He had a very surreal connection with her and finally felt understood by somebody / wasn't treated differently because of his bloodline connections, right. Probably because he still has a lot of growth to do as a person, they had a falling out and the relationship ended (Tang Shen absolutely being the one to call it off-). Then after some time she ends up being in a romantic relationship with Yoshi and stays with him. To me, this is the most logical course of events considering what we see in the S3 episode, "Tale of the Yokai"-

But the reason I explained all this is because I feel like this is yet another thing that Saki feels the Hamato Clan has stolen from him. He has nothing, everything that he did have was taken from him, and he's treated as some sort of vile creature that needs to be "shown the proper path". I also want to throw out the possibility that their Father (Yoshi's Father-) being an unreliable narrator, since we don't get a lot of context behind the Foot Clan and whether or not they were actually bad people- I know historically speaking, the Foot Clan has always been the villains in this franchise, but for 2012 specifically we never truly got any proof of that (in my opinion) prior to Shredder's reign as head of the Foot- You know what I mean? (Though I know this is yet another thing that can be chalked up to poor writing / world building-)

During the same episode, "Tale of the Yokai", we witness Saki openly call out Yoshi for not caring about Tang Shen enough and for not caring about him. This is something I'd also love to get into at some point, since I think this would've been a really deep and complicated Character Arc for Splinter to have potentially gone through ! Because in my personal opinion, I don't think Splinter doesn't care about the people that he claims to care about + love immensely, I just think he doesn't show it in the way that he believes he is showing it- He doesn't always understand how his actions are being perceived by those people, you know what I mean?? That's exactly why I say Shredder should have had a Redemption Arc and Splinter should have been a huge part of that, because at the end of the day you can understand why Saki is so upset as a person-?? All he wanted was somebody to genuinely love him for who he was and not try to change him or blame him for something he wasn't even alive for at the time. I think Splinter really needed to prove to him that he does love him. I also think Splinter should go through similar efforts with his sons first before making an attempt with Saki- Since I know a lot of people have issues with his parenting / feel he didn't love any of his sons except Leo (Which I half agree, half disagree- Also talking about Splinter's lack of self-awareness or situational awareness sometimes, I feel like that's why he never really addressed the favoritism with Leo.,, Because he was his Father's favorite child, so why would he have that kind of self-reflection when he didn't notice it between himself and his brother- You know? 😭).

The point is, I think Saki is just a deeply hurt / scarred man and because he was constantly left his own devices and quite frankly self-isolated, he just got worse and worse,, You can honestly see that deterioration throughout the series with how delusional he becomes towards the end- I promise I'll stop yapping after this, but can we talk about the moment that Shredder had during the S4 episode, "The Super Shredder" when he was describing constantly seeing Splinter in his nightmares and him having this condescending face all the time-?? 😭

[tabiito]

PRESCIENCE — OLIVER AIKU part one: INEVITABILITY

You're not one to get nervous before classes, but this presentation of your paper has you pacing up and down the cramped hall of your apartment. Your way of dealing with particularly scrutinising conferences was running through your slides, reciting them to someone you know to ward off the nervousness, but tonight you're a wreck all by yourself. Shuffling through papers desperately trying to gather your thoughts, you spend a minute wallowing in pity, cursing the hundreds of expectant faces who'll be staring up at you tomorrow.

It's been two years since Geneva, and as you've aged and your career has expanded, your apartment has not. You bump into the corner of the low-lying table and hiss softly in pain.

Breaking you out of your haze, your phone rings, Oliver's number flashing. Ideally, he'd be your guinea pig (who'd fall asleep after you make it past your introductory remarks), but he did say he'd be out tonight.

"You better be on your way here. I'm freaking the fuck out."

The voice that greets you isn't his. It's, instead, a soft murmur that can just barely be heard after an initial few seconds of silence.

"So you're the side piece, huh?"

You pause, contemplating your next course of action. You can't even fathom who, what or how you've been dialled, though you have an inkling of an idea.

"You have the wrong number," you sigh, hanging up. You didn't have the mental capacity to engage with whoever was on the other side of the phone tonight, being more than swamped by your own shit. Still, the phone rings again, and this time you toss it on your couch with more force than necessary, grateful it doesn't crash onto the floor as you sigh.

To make full use of your available force, though, you throw the marker in your pocket against the whiteboard for good measure. It squeaks miserably, making a curve and falls to the ground.

You're in that animated state of flow of talking when Oliver enters the large room. He's about 15 minutes late, and he blames the cab driver that stopped him for a selfie. Your hands are moving rapidly as you explain (what he assumes are hieroglyphs) behind you, making a joke about something called the Kuiper Belt that has everyone laughing. He supposes that it must be a very expensive belt. As he settles into an empty chair at the back of the hall, he tips the cap he's wearing a little lower, and pushes his facemask a bit higher. Selfishly, and subconsciously, he hopes that his motion distracts you for even a mere nanosecond, to recognise his presence, but he's imperceptible in the crowd of people furiously taking notes or nodding in agreement.

"...And though I don't claim to be prescient like those on Arrakis, but the similarity I have found with Dune is fact that the temperatures in Kolhar, just like...."

Oliver's doing the thing again. He catches himself before his train of thought leaves the room entirely.

He's never claimed to understand your work. He stopped trying after you tried to explain calculus to him in high school, but inadvertently overcomplicated the whole endeavour by quoting some axioms you were learning about in your dual enrolment course. Needless to say, though your teaching had become much better, Oliver would still find himself zoning out when you slipped into the jargon-y, super-science-nerd-y side of yourself. His mind would latch onto the words he would understand from the litany of complicated terms you'd use and play around with them instead.

Prescience.

He always thought that time travelling and the ability to look into the future led to an overcomplicated, never-ending loop of things. (He's watched enough in Avengers: Infinity War to realise that only a fool would want to look into the future). What good would warning your future self be when you had to come back and warn your younger self and so on and so forth. It hurt his head to think about this, and considering Avengers was one of the milder watches on your LSD-trip-esque watchlist of scientific nonsense, he's had to think about this quite a lot.

As you drone on about planets whose names, frankly, seem made up, Oliver takes a peek into his own future, dabbling in a bit of prescience himself. He's approaching his peak, his golden age, according to the pundits. A season more and he could be the most valuable defender in the world according to his agent. He'd be captaining the Japanese team for the fifth year straight, hopefully to Worlds once again. Finances were no issue for him. His agent was going to get a sneaker line customised after him from Nike, maybe a sports water he didn't necessarily believe in (he'd find a fine whiskey or vodka collaboration more tasteful), probably buy his mother her second summer home in the Swedish countryside for 55th birthday.

Though he knows about the call you'd got yesterday, a stupid slip-up by him, leaving his phone unattended and unlocked as he'd gone to fetch Yoko (one of his longer indulgences), he can still see you in his future.

You'd be there at Worlds, cheering for him from the friends and family box seats. You'd be the first person to make fun of his fraudulent brand deals. You'd advise him on the location of the summer house. Whether he was in Spain or Italy, you'd take the time out to make your stops on your increasingly frequent research-driven travels, and he would collect trinkets from the cities each away game was hosted in that would remind him of you.

He, never, of course imagines a future where you're not there. His mother might protest about the unnecessary luxury that is a second house, Nike might drop the deal given his sordid PR record, Sae Itoshi could finally ascend to captaincy — and Oliver would let him do so gracefully, because there was nothing more satisfying than a story coming full circle, and a new blossom of talent in a bleak landscape. He was just that kind of guy — but you were there, through it all, in your graphic printed longsleeves, low rise jeans and scuffed trainers.

Though he questioned the legitimacy of prescience, it was clear: all paths led to you. You'd forced him to sit through Dune 2, which ended up being less torturous than he'd expected, enough for him to ask you what happens next as he reversed out of the cinema's parking lot, and you'd propped a leg under your thigh, and turned to him with a moony sort of expression you reserved for very few things in your life.

You'd mentioned the Golden Path that Paul saw, a prescient interpretation for the universe that could lead it to salvation, even if it came at the cost of great difficulty, and Oliver now smirks into his mask as you wrap up your presentation with a polite "thank you."

Your energy has now simmered, leaving in its place a more nervous, hesitant force. He knew just how bad he fucked up yesterday by letting Yoko call you, because he knew how anxious you'd get before big events. In ordinary circumstances, it'd be him who'd be the guinea pig for your public speaking ministrations. You were not as charming as him, not as easy and comfortable under pressure in front of a large group, and he remembers you initially struggled to take your everyday classes, a burden that's eased with time. The words that you'd painstakingly chosen, the equations you'd solved with intentionality would turn to cardboard in your mouth when presented with the option of actually articulating your findings in a lucid manner.

Still, you manage tight-lipped, but genuine smiles at the students who file out and thank you for your insights, as well as your peers who'd occupied the front rows.

You've got your back to him when the midsized lecture hall has emptied itself out, and are busying yourself with packing up your laptop when he pads down towards you.

"That joke about the Kewpie Belt was hilarious," he drawls, and he expects to see you fall into familiar ways; your half-smile, a light punch to his shoulder, and a hopeless shake of your head. Then, you'd let him carry your bag and take you out to lunch.

You do no such thing. You stiffen, and turn around with a grimace. He knows your ashen face when he sees the circles under your eyes, a rare sight despite your friendship of nearly a decade.

You were hungover and pissed. Clearly, in no mood to entertain him.

All the more reason for him to press on, then. You beat him to it.

"Fuck off," you groan, and you sling your bag before he can protest. Apologies and grovelling are a part of his Circadian rhythmn at this point: he excels when he's on his knees.

"At least hear me out, I'm sorry," he says pointedly, taking an easy, loping stride to keep up with you where you have to make the effort of walking faster. You can't help the physical feeling of disgust that crawls up your spine, that makes you want to burrow inwards at the way the word rolls off his tongue so smoothly, as if it were completely weightless.

"It was a mistake! I broke up with her as soon as I figured it out. And your presentation was great, right? No harm, no foul," he blabbers, throwing his hands in the air sheepishly when you dignify him with a withering look. Oliver is a mediocre liar and a decent gambler at best, but what keeps him on the tables despite his losses is not just the cash he has to blow, but the excitement he attracts. Excitement is short-lived, however, and if anyone bothered staying past the party that was Oliver's lifestyle ended, they'd figure out his trade secrets.

Oliver's tells were as clear as day. You just had to want to look.

The exaggerated lilt in his voice, the cloying sweetness in his words as if he were explaining himself to his mother rather than a friend, the way his eyes flashed when he exclaims. This is a practiced routine, and you congratulate him on adding another feather to his cap: footballer, womaniser and actor.

"No harm, no foul?", you mimic, scoffing. Now he was just being obtuse. He knows you like the back of his hand, he knows you'd been up drinking to stave off the humiliation that had burnt through you from the call, coupled with your nerves about the presentation. (What he doesn't know is that you'd slept through three alarms and woke up drooling on the floor by your RA, who'd swung by to pick you up. Hot with embarrassment, you did not acknowledge the empty bottle of Merlot that had gotten you through the night. You'd barely made it in time for your lecture, and were a wreck for the first five minutes. You refuse to, however, divulge this information to him, lest he gains verbal confirmation to what he already knew in his gut: he had you hopelessly besotted.)

"All's well that ends well?", he counters mildly, breaking out his Sunday best smile. You treat him contemptuously, but he can hear the exhaustion in your tone.

"I'm tired, Oliver. Leave me alone," you said quietly, stepping out of the room.

You're staring at your miso soup petulantly, like a child peering into a mirror displeased by their reflection. Oliver prods it towards you gently. The soup is a metaphor for your heart's betrayal towards your head, a heady concoction that weaves together your weaknesses for this man in a salty, broth-y mixture. How you were persuaded to lunch was beyond you (You lie, you gave into his pathetic demands too easily), and as he fans himself with a laminated menu at this sidewalk cafe, you finally find it in you to glare at him rather than the poor hangover cure.

"How'd she figure out who I was?", you ask, glacially calm, though your expression betrays you.

"You and ma are the only two women on my call log. Most frequented, too," he says. It's simple. It's the truth.

"Did she go through our texts?"

"Nah. Face ID lock on the app."

You place your palms on the plastic tablecloth, a gaudy red with flowers. Your hands are sweaty. They stick. You're considering his words carefully, and he savours the way you look when the cogs in your brain are at work, doing what they do best.

"Dumped her, in case I didn't make it clear," he adds. He thinks he's being helpful.

You inhale sharply, and take a drink of the ice-cold water in front of you.

"Oliver," you begin, your voice controlled. "You do realise that Yoko wasn't in the wrong here? Objectively," you speak.

You love that word. Objectively. Factually. Logically. Empirically. Any part of the English language that gave you the illusion of control in this moment over the whirling shitstorm that Oliver is, the maelstrom of your life.

"If I were her, I'd also be pissed that my boyfriend was spending more time talking to some lab rat than me," you intone, and you hate the way your brain fires all synapses when you say the word boyfriend.

"I'm not her boyfriend. And you know I'm not good at this shit," he shrugs, and you feel the visceral, primal urge to reach over and strangle him.

Circles. That was how each one of these interactions went. You knew your place in Oliver's life, but many of his passing attractions did not. Some revered you, others envied you, while others still viewed you as a threat to eliminate. All perceptions were thoroughly embarrassing, since how could a lowly, unsexy, unfunny late-teen equivalent of a childhood best friend live up to the perfection of each woman that came tottering her way into Oliver's life?

Of all perceptions, though, you hated the last one because you felt that it was true. The word "side piece" is reductive, but the truth is at its finest when it is bare. You're no better than the any other person who's got their eyes set on Oliver, debauched and eligible bachelor Oliver, with his scruff and baritone and deep pockets and even deeper, more generous heart.

For someone who'd have a body count in the double digits, you find it baffling how all these years later, he hasn't developed some tact, some response other than "I'm not good at this shit."

"That's a fucked up response and you know it."

He shrugs.

"Would you rather have me lie and say that I'll cut you off every time I start a new fling? 'Cause you know you'll be getting whiplash every two business days."

You sigh, clenching the tablecloth again.

"That's not what I meant, Oliver," you seethe. For all his looks, his expensive taste and rationality, he behaved like the seventeen year old at the club more often than one would expect.

"You're an adult now. I'm an adult. Do you seriously still think you're going to be going into your thirties with this shithousery?", you say exasperatedly. "The calls, the lies, the embarrassment for everyone but you, your inability to be accountable and slide everything off with this stupid 'no harm no foul' attitude," you say, and before you can realise it your voice is gaining in pitch, in frustration.

"You can't fix me," is the only response Oliver deigns you worthy of, and you half expect him to leave.

"Get your head out of your ass. You don't need fixing, least of all from me. You need to," and you once again, grab at thin air for the words from every language that you knew, "treat yourself better," you sigh at the end, and the corner of his lips quiver up into a tentative smile.

"Look at you, telling me to treat myself better," he says, tilting back his chair smugly. You burn at his words, painfully reminded of your college days, punctuated with him forcing you out of your stuffy dorms to take a walk, grab takeout, do something other than kill yourself over differential equations.

"Ugh. This would be so much easier if I were a sentient superior species with mind control that could take over your brain and just force you to do what I tell you."

"Are we talking Ratatouille or Attack of the Brainsucker here?", he asks, and you roll your eyes in response.

Circles, squares, everything eventually came back to its beginnings with you. But in a distant yet near future he was inching closer to, Oliver could see the golden threads of fate winding in funny ways, taking him on his prescient path. He was sure of it.

"Brainsuckers. Duh."

[intimidating-fettuccine]

how about Candy meeting another Genyr!reader who luckily survived Night Terrors’ attack all those years ago? Like the reader just joined the mansion and didnt know Candy&Terrors were theree?? This might be a little bit of a crazy ask, but do what you will with it <3

This got pretty long, so I hope you enjoy <3

It had been several hundred years since the event that had forced Candy to share his body with Terrors, and both of them were long past the point of assuming any other members of the Genyr race were left alive. So much time and so much energy had been put into moving past that traumatic event, and so much growth on both of their parts toward bettering themselves and learning to live with the pain of the past. So, when Slender pulled Candy aside one day to have a complicated conversation, learning of your existence was the last thing that Candy had been expecting at all. Slender had made Candy aware in advance, although he hadn't had the time to prep you before your own arrival which would, unfortunately, be happening that day. Candy didn't really believe it, because how could he? At least, until you walk through those front doors.

"Oh my god!!" Was the first shared thought between Candy and Terrors upon Candy's vision landing on you, Candy because he was so excited, and Terrors because he was having a holy shit what do I even do in this situation moment. You, of course, were also in complete shock at the situation, frozen in the doorway and blinking as though there must have been something wrong with your eyes. Slender would have to pull both of you aside this time, to help explain the situation and try and help both of you get settled with this. You're feeling a torrent of emotions, having also assumed you were the last surviving member of your race all these years, so to learn that you weren't alone was a very emotional feeling for both you and Candy, met with hugs and tears and a deep connection being formed between the two of you immediately as you talked and explained how the last couple hundred years had gone for the two of you. You were starting to think that the world was looking up and nothing bad could happen now, at least, until Candy backed away from you, quite distraught, mentioned that he had to explain something, and with the help of Slender told you how the way he had stopped Terrors all those years ago was by essentially fusing their souls together. Of course, you're now freaking out, realizing that the man who had murdered all of your species except for the two of you had been inside of Candy this whole time.

The next few weeks are awkward for everyone involved, with you switching between being incredibly angry and betrayed, but also wanting to grow closer to Candy, but also not even wanting to look at him. Neither Candy nor Terrors could really blame you, with how conflicting the last month must have been for you to learn that both the man that had been thought to have killed everyone you knew and loved was still alive, but so was the person that had stopped him. I think it would get to the point where you and Terrors would have to sit down and really talk it out. Candy had hundreds of years to internally argue with Terrors and see him gradually improve, but you hadn't been there for any of that. Terrors does a very uncharacteristic apology, not quite groveling at your feet but pretty damn close to it, and he'll even let you beat the shit out of him if you want to, he knows he deserves it. He just asks that you don't blame or avoid Candy because of this situation because none of it is his fault. He understands if you want to avoid him, but he really does hope you'll get closer to Candy because Candy is truly all you have left of your race. Thankfully, for both you and Candy, you do take his advice and get closer to him. While you and Candy easily grow closer, drawn in by familiarity and nostalgia, just as it had been for Candy, it will be a very, very, very long time before you can consider spending any time at all with Terrors, which both Candy and Terrors understand and respect. Candy is just so unbelievably thankful to have someone else from his race after spending so many years alone, and he'll do anything he can to keep both of you alive and together, so you never have to be separated again.

[aihoshiino]

Hi there! I'd like to know your thoughts about the side stories. What do you like/dislike about Viewpoint B and 44510?

i like everything about them and dislike nothing <3 KDJSKJDSKNDKS

Honestly even joking aside it's hard for me to think of any beef I have with either sidestory because I think they're both incredible additions to OnK both as standalone expansions and when put in conversation with each other. I guess with a gun to my head I'd say I don't like that the manga ends up really fumbling Nino as a character after setting her up as such a deeply realistically complicated person in 45510 or that Kyun ends up never coming up in the main manga at all despite there being some really juicy potential for including her in the Movie Arc alongside Nino and Takamine, who both had their own complicated relationships with Ai. BUT!! That's basically it.

For 45510, like I said - I love what an incredibly complicated tangle of feelings Akasaka manages to convey with Nino's first person POV, how her stated 'hatred' of Ai is so obviously at odds with her fascination with and desire for her long before Nino ever comes out and admits her fervent devotion. But I also think it's really good and really important that even as it makes clear Nino's hostility and blame towards Ai, it never judges or blames her for it in turn.

This is actually something both sidestories do really well that I really appreciate - it does a lot to humanise the gen 1 B-Komachi girls and to make very clear that the miserable environment of the group was not the fault of any person in it, but the natural result of the way they were managed by Ichigo and the way they were treated by the rest of the industry. It doesn't downplay their culpability in making Ai feel isolated but it gives the gen 1 girls' perspective on why that isolation happened equal weight and validity to Ai's. It's not a simple black and white conflict but a two sided failure to communicate and connect.

To this end, both the sidestories touch on something that the manga itself doesn't really make explicit until the Movie Arc - how incredibly fucking frustrating "Ai of B-Komachi" is to deal with on a personal, moment to moment basis. Both Nino and Kyun talk about her being distant and having her walls up and even when you can get a conversation out of her, her words feel scripted - and this makes it impossible to get to know her. But it also makes very clear that the isolation this results in is extremely hard on Ai, too - again, that two-sided failure to communicate.

Viewpoint B is the one that best gets this across out of the two and it's definitely my favourite, though for lots of other reasons lol. It's the only place in the series where we hear the perspective of an ex-idol and what her experiences are in the wake of her own fame. Kyun's burnout and the way she's treated by society once she's no longer an idol are both really fascinating to read on their own terms and also, imo, add a lot to Ai's story as well in helping to explain and really get across just why Ai was so trapped in the entertainment industry - society is already so cruel to ex-idols who aren't autistic abuse survivors with no high school education. There really was no other place she could go to support herself.

I also just really like the prose in general - I really love how consistent Kyun's character voice is across the two timeframes is while still being distinctly informed by the stages of her life. The older Kyun feels so wistful, resigned and even a little tired while the younger Kyun really feels like someone on the cusp of adulthood, surprisingly insightful and mature at times but still dealing with her youthful hotheadedness and the fresh enormity of complicated adult feelings and responsibilities. You can really feel the seeds of her more contemplative and calm adult self starting to blossom in the younger Kyun even just over the course of her conversation with Ai and that really distinct sense of continuity between the two is super compelling to me.

And speaking of Ai: she's here!!!! Obviously we also get some time with her in 45510, but that's more in line with the main series post-volume 1 snippets of her in short flashbacks and recordings. Viewpoint B's story is a flashback, but it's only really made one because of the framing device - the prose very much places us directly in the younger Kyun's head and so it's kind of exciting to get this little snippet of extra time with Ai in the flesh. Especially because - IMO - Viewpoint B contains some of the most important Ai characterization in the series, to the extent that prior to Nino appearing in the main manga, I considered Viewpoint B way more essential reading than 45510.

Viewpoint B is the only place in the series where Ai gets a chance to really just talk about what being an idol means to her and what "Ai of B-Komachi" represents to her, personally, rather than what it means for the fans. It's also important as additive characterization for Ai, emphasizing and doubling down on aspects of her personality we see in the main series - her kindness, her efforts to understand other people despite her struggles and her blase attitude towards the persistent mistreatment she endures for basically her whole life. Not only is it just nice to get these things reiterated in a pre-twins and pre-Hikaru context (and thus establish that Ai has always been this way) but I think it's also really important for establishing that.. yes! Ai really is just like this.

It's easy to forget now we're at the end of the manga and we've had basically the whole Movie Arc jackhammering "Ai was just a normal girl and the only part of her that was fake was pretending she was perfect" into our heads, but Viewpoint B came out in March of 2023, which is when (at least in the Western fandom) the idea that Ai might be Secretly Evil or that the sides of her we see on-screen were entirely fake or a mask were still extremely popular ways to interpret her. Viewpoint B makes it crystal clear that the supposed 'real Ai' is still just Ai and that her idol self isn't some distinct, fake persona separate from the real thing - she's just a different side of Ai's real, authentic self.

I also really adore the Viewpoint B audio drama! Honestly there's still a little part of me that can't fucking believe it exists lol. Takahashi's performances as Kyun and Ai are just mindboggling. She has the range!!!! Godddddd I want to believe so bad they'll do an OVA adaptation of it someday... plsplsplspls dogakobo, i've been so good...

[nature-girly]

Something that irks me and makes me uncomfortable is Kirk’s reputation in pop culture as a womanizer. Because he’s not. He does kiss a lot of women, but far too often it’s not because he actually wants to. Instead, it’s dubiously or non-consensual (for him), simply to get out of a dangerous situation, or to gain information. I’m not sure if it was an intentional decision for the writers to put Kirk, a white man and a starship captain who usually has a lot of agency into situations where he’s sexualized and lacks agency. Most likely it was just the unfortunate fact that sexual violence against men often isn’t taken as seriously. Also, I fully acknowledge that Kirk is often dismissive of women, including his coworkers and that women on TOS experience similar things as him. I wrote this awhile ago in my notes app but I was honestly hesitant to post it. This got unfortunately long by the way.

TW: sexual violence, non-consensual drug use, brainwashing

Situations that were dubiously or non-consensual for Kirk:

Wink of an Eye: Kirk got kidnapped by Deela who wanted him to help repopulate her planet. On the bridge, she kissed him multiple times without his consent and he looked really uncomfortable. Soon after, it’s explained that Kirk (or any other human) would suffer serious injuries or death if he got even a scratch. This established his powerlessness. Kirk and Deela end up in his quarters. She says, “It was quite delightful kissing you when you couldn't see me.” Yikes…He kissed her in an attempt to grab her weapon. After she stopped him from getting it, they kissed again. In the next scene, Deela fixed her hair as Kirk put on his boots. To quote the script, “Draw your own conclusions.” Obviously, they had just had sex. Kirk looked so upset here. 

A Private Little War: After Kirk got attacked by the mugato, Nona did a weirdly sexual magic healing ritual. Tyree says, “When a man and woman are joined in this manner, he can refuse her no wish.” Later, Nona drugged Kirk and then kissed him seemingly in an effort to make Tyree jealous. Kirk reciprocated though he looked conflicted. 

The Return of the Archons: Soon after the Red Hour started a random woman kissed Kirk. I don’t blame her though because she was brainwashed like everyone else and it was the red hour. 

Whom Gods Destroy: After being tortured by Garth and passing out, Kirk woke up in Marta’s bed. She kissed him several times without his consent and then tried to stab him. 

Plato’s Stepchildren: Kirk and Uhura are forced to kiss by the Platonians. This obviously wasn’t consensual for either of them.

Elaan of Troyius: Kirk’s behavior towards Elaan was appalling and the entire situation was fucked up. That goes without saying. However, that doesn’t negate what she did. Elasian tears have a strong biochemical effect on men and act like a love potion. Elaan seduces Kirk after getting her tears on him, essentially drugging him. Side note: This Side of Paradise makes me uncomfortable for the same reason. 

Dagger of the Mind: This episode was…complicated. Early on, it’s established that Kirk had met Helen Noel at a holiday party and he’s really awkward around her. When they try out the brainwashing/hypnosis machine, Helen planted false memories of Kirk taking her back to his quarters and presumably hooking up. Dr. Adams also brainwashed Kirk into believing that he was in love with Helen which affected his behavior. 

Examples of Kirk seducing women so he and whoever he’s responsible for can get out of a dangerous situation or to gain information: 

Catspaw

Mirror, Mirror

The Gamesters of Triskelion

What Are Little Girls Made Of?

The Conscience of the King

By Any Other Name

To conclude, I really wish people wouldn't think of Kirk as a womanizer, playboy, etc. He mostly just uses his sexuality to survive. Maybe that's a hot take. I don't know.

[one-blaze-of--glory]

In defense of Mimi Marquez

as the ceo of loving Mimi Marquez i am quite disturbed by the various ways people will publicly voice how much they hate her. I understand that everyone is entitled to their opinions, however, I'm still going to explain why I disagree very strongly with these points.

she is an addict

well... yes she is? what am i supposed to say about that? congratulations on noticing?

on a serious note, if you think that means she deserves to suffer, i think your priorities are very skewed. she's 19. she's made mistakes. this doesn't make her irredeemable or really a bad person in general.

I'd also like to point out that several times during the show, she tries to quit. it's not an easy thing to do. she doesn't deserve to be hated for failing to do something extremely hard, while already dealing with unimaginable circumstances perhaps.

she's bad for Roger/tried to get him back on drugs/tried to manipulate him

no she's not? no she didn't? what are you talking about?

I've seen people say Roger would've just been better off without her and I'm genuinely baffled by this take, considering he didn't even leave the building for a long time. He wouldn't have been happier, he was in fact very deeply depressed. After meeting Mimi, he became a little bit less depressed, that's progress and it's good.

as for the other two points, she never tried to give him drugs. She in fact took her stash back from him. there is no point in the musical where she tries to get Roger to do drugs, I genuinely don't know what you mean.

i think interpreting what she does as manipulation is not neccecarily wrong but it's a very bad faith interpretation. she's a 19 year old with a terminal illness, not a criminal mastermind. and i think she genuinely wanted to help him, but i do know this is a little more subjective.

she shouldn't have broken into his apartment

i mean what choice did she have, the guy's completely shut in. besides, it's not like she tried to sneak in in secret with some ulterior motives, she pretty much openly walked in there. Roger could stop her any time. which he eventually did and which she reluctantly accepted.

she didn't know Roger had AIDS and still tried to sleep with him

this one's a little more complicated to me, because yeah, that's not great, i agree.

however, this is largely a hypothetical on many levels. first, the obvious, Roger is already infected, she isn't going to make that any worse or better.

and also... she never actually even tried to sleep with him in act 1? sure she's flirtatious and she makes a few innuendos, but it's never that serious. we really don't know. Roger wasn't very receptive to her flirting and we, again, don't know what would've happened otherwise. For all we know she could've planned to tell him if they ever got that far.

also, she doesn't even sound that surprised when she finds out in la vie boheme. "guy who's clearly going through something, with a dead girlfriend, in the middle of the AIDS crisis" is actually not hard to piece together. for the record. she could've easily just.... known.

she got back with benny

people for some reason love to blame Mimi for benny's bad decisions, so let me clear things up. no, it's not Mimi's fault that benny cheated on his wife. he's a grown man who can make his own decisions. we don't know how old benny is exactly, other than he's old enough to be married, but either way, there's definitely a power imbalance between him and Mimi. that's not great. he acts very possessive and weird about her. that's really not great. i don't see how any of that is Mimi's fault though, if anything she's a victim of this situation.

also, we have no reason to believe she cheated on Roger with benny. that's something benny tried to make up in happy new year to get in Roger's head. whatever they have going on during goodbye, love is at a time when Mimi and Roger aren't together. why would you believe benny on anything?

she shouldn't have dropped out of rehab

i mean really, imagine yourself in her situation. at that point she had nothing. Angel died, Roger left, benny is benny and she herself was dying. Quite simply, there's not much of a point to quitting drugs when she had no one to live for AND not long to live either way. feels like common sense.

also, if you're a Roger fan, reminder that he was also an addict prior to the events of the show and the only difference between him and Mimi is that he got a lot of support from Mark, something he could've provided to Mimi, if he didn't decide to move halfway across the country.

she died in front of everyone, traumatizing them further

I included this, because this is an actual opinion I saw, but I genuinely don't know what to say to this. in what way is dying selfish. what are you even talking about. this is so funny to me, actually. genuinely what are you talking about?

by this logic, wouldn't you have to hate Angel more? she also died and she didn't even bother to come back, which is quite rude.

finally, general reminder that Mimi is the youngest in the group, yet she has dealt with some of the worst circumstances and still handled it better than most people would. yeah, sure, she made mistakes, as people usually do in difficult circumstances.

Mimi is just a fictional character, sure, but the way I see people treat her makes me concerned about how these people would treat someone like her in real life. Also, i think some of you just hate women.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 19

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Good morning!

Weird time for me to post this as I normally post at night- I know, but I am off work today. The reason for no tea, no work, and only water this morning is because I am getting tattooed this afternoon!

I'm getting a full sleeve in parts; today we are outlining half of the sleeve. I will for sure for sure post photos in my next chapter! I'm so stoked. Oh I did not mention it, but It's a sleeve dedicated to tea so really tea in spirit with today's chapter :P

Let's get into Shen Jiu:

oh god. He went from one dream realm to another dream realm! p205

Oh shit; meng mo really saved his soul from being torn up in that other dream. p205

Honestly SQQ, I too would want to immediately see LBH after that experience. If anything, I would just want to make sure he was still the nice LBH and not the horror show I had just experienced in there. p206

ah! Meng Mo did interfere with Qiu Haitang in the mausoleum. I was wondering what all was happening with her hysterics in there; but dang that was dark showing her SJ's memories. Poor girl had her entire worldview switched p208

I am not emotionally ready to know what SJ went through. Ugh, here we go anyways.

Okay but I kind of really feel bad for Qiu Haitang- the girl really didnt know what was happening. her own brother from the very first day hid the mistreatment. SJ was really treated so fucking awfully. :( p213

Not his name being the number of him being trafficked :(((((( p213

Damn. I was really hoping we would find out who SJ's friend was. Though I do feel like it is someone we know already. I feel like it's Liu Qingge (don't actually tell me though!) -> we will find out later I suspect. p217

The way I exhaled at "You don't even count as human, and you want to be an immortal?" p219

I felt so bad during that "murder scene". Like fuck, I don't even blame SJ, when it all started. He finally killed the guy after almost a decade of abuse and he was once again trying to protect himself from harm. p221-222

Well. The bloodbath after his initial escape and slew of murders was a little unhinged LOL. p223

ooof. "no more waiting". p225

LOL this memory just turned into the plot of holes there. A bunch of children digging holes without end. Is this where SJ finds luo Binghe??? p227

Okay yes he did find him here and he was already peak master at this point (not for long but still). p228

I am glad that the generational naming convention was explained! Similar to MDZS jin's, the Cang Qiong Mountain sect names generationally. I was really wondering why everyone had "Qing". yay for explanation. p229

What the heck. Liu Qingge is rude as fuck: Shen Jiu said mildly, "Good talent doesn't guarantee success." Liu Qingge didn't even grace him with a sideways glance. "But certainly more success than a nobody who only began proper cultivation at age sixteen." p230

I'm having complicated feelings about OG SJ. Like -> his story is fucked and he was very badly damaged as a child, HOWEVER him treating Luo Binghe the way he did and just creating a cycle of violence is not okay. :( p234

My HEART! Luo Binghe's baby tears :(( p235. also him only crying the first day being 'punished' and when he had to bury his mom himself. what the fuck.

Bro that's so awkward for SQQ; waking up to find out he was crying and calling for LBH in his unconscious state and everyone knowing about it. p237

LOL SQQ not upset that LBH is manhandling him but that LBH said his eyelashes were long XD p239

<SCREAMING>

That last page! AAAAAAH. Him admitting he really missed LBH while hugging uuuugh.

[archetypal-archivist]

Azul-Yutu Thoughts 0.3

As inspired by @yuri-is-online and their Future Yutu AU. Go read it, it's good.

The first time Yutu ever gets a chance to talk to Jade for real is after a full day of wandering campus looking for stories about overblot phantoms, monsters, and mages. As such, Yutu's understandably tired, especially since it's edging into proper night now, the clock above the bar ticking softly away as Jade wipes down the counter.

After summarily kicking Crewel out of Octavinelle with a snide reassurance that he'll 'behave,' Yutu was a little startled by how normal and unpersonalized their next few minutes of interaction were.

Do you have any allergies? No. Any strong dislikes? Uh, why? This is an establishment for food and drink, it'd be remiss if me not to feed you. Do I have to pay? Hm, no, not today. Alright... I- guess I don't like spicy things? Oh, also no carrots or celery. And nothing too chunky in my drink, I don't like smoothies! I suppose I can accommodate.

Yutu takes a moment to sit at the bar, spinning around once on the stool before stopping to look Jade up and down. He'd never heard of this person from Yuu, who'd struggled to recall his dad even on their best days. Who was this person to him? An uncle? An ally? Did Jade blame him or his parent for abandoning Azul, however unwillingly? Yutu scrutinizes Jade's appearance, looking for hints as to what his whole deal is.

The first thing that comes to mind is that Jade looks... Tired. No dark bags under his eyes, so he's sleeping, but there's a deliberateness to his movements that tells of trying not to shake, or perhaps of distraction. Jade also doesn't move from his spot much and is slow to rise when ducking below the counter to fish out ingredients, which is another point in the tired category, or perhaps the start of one that screams low blood sugar.

Hey, whatever you're making for me, make some for yourself too. Mm. I mean it. If you're stealing ingredients or whatever to do this, you may as well get something out of it too. Truly benevolent, aren't you? Very well then.

It doesn't take long for Jade and Yutu to have matching salads and glasses of water, which Yutu raises an eyebrow at. It's a struggle not to comment on how, for all that Jade is insisting on feeding him, this is kind of a cheapskate meal. Jade seems to read right through him though and explains that they're still waiting on the next round of supplies to come through; the gardens can supply vegetables and there's apples, canned goods, and nonperishables aplenty, but things like milk or eggs are much harder to come by.

And, Jade comments with a sharp-toothed grin that Yutu immediately clocks as a mer thing, alcohol is more profitable than ever. Not that you're of age, of course. Yutu debates the merits of commenting, figures discretion is the better part of valor (Jade seems too eager to hear his remarks and that screams fishy) and shuts up to eat his salad.

Jade takes his win with good grace and explains how he, Azul, and his- he hesitates for a moment- twin all went to school together. Octavinelle flourished under Azul's care as house warden and he and his brother helped him hang onto control, acting to smooth things out when things got... Rough. Yutu snorts and tries to hide it, snidely commenting that the trio sound like the mafia. Jade laughs a little too, slightly forced, and says that Yuu said the exact same thing when Azul explained their duties to them.

Yutu is surprised at this and asks if Yuu went to school with his father too, which Jade confirms, proceeding to explain their rather dramatic entrance into NRC and how Yuu came to agree to date Azul; something about an overly complicated meal, a broken microwave, and a promise about never going hungry again. All very romantic, Jade assures Yutu dryly, although a bit insufferable for him and his brother, who had to ensure Azul survived the pinning phase first.

Yutu immediately opens up about what little he knows of Azul and what Yuu had told him, hoping for confirmation, a solidification of what he knows. What Jade does instead is smirk and proceed to rip apart the honey-golden nostalgia and replace it with goofy tales of how his father was actually a bit of a dork.

Yutu had deliberately told Jade some of the sappier things he knew about Azul because he pinned Jade as being a tease and the man would likely contradict whatever spin he put on his dad. This, though? Yutu isn't sure what to do with this; he'd expected flaws or ways his father got angry or unreasonable, not 'flaws' and hidden affection. Azul... His dad was really loved, huh.

Yutu tries to stretch out his last few bites of salad, uncertain and trying not to show it. If Yuu loved his dad so much, if Jade teased but couldn't hide how much he missed him, if Crewel spoke of Azul's talents and intelligence so highly, then how should Yutu feel? All he has to go on is what other people tell him and he doesn't yet know if he wants to love Azul too, let alone if he will come to love the real Azul or the Azul people loved. Stories and real people are so rarely similar, after all.

Seeing Yutu get quieter and quieter, Jade figures that he's tired and politely starts urging Yutu to head to bed. Yutu agrees, hesitates, then asks if he can come talk to Jade again. Jade is a little surprised because he thought it was a given, then a little surprised at himself for so easily falling back into old habits. Just an hour or so in the presence of a boy who looks so much like his old friend, and he's ready to accommodate him. Ha, how foolish...

Jade keeps his thoughts behind his teeth and agrees with a smile, urging Yutu to drop by at least once a week as Jade works most evenings and on Sunday afternoons from 10 to 6. Yutu furrows his brow, pointing out that 10 is hardly in the afternoon, Jade croons about how Yutu must wake up so late in the day if he thinks 10 is in the morning, Yutu grumbles, Jade teases and urges Yutu to get to bed sooner or else noon may start looking like morning too.

Yutu decides to let Jade get the last laugh for now and heads out, leaving Jade to the silence of Octavinelle. He doesn't look back but if he were to do so, he'd see how Jade would look oddly diminished now that he's alone, hovering over the bar top like a specter as if he doesn't know what else to do with himself.

Jade stares after Yutu, gaze distant, before turning back to the dirty dishes on the counter. The salad plates are swept up easily enough but the water glasses- Jade pushes them so they're next to each other, identical in their emptiness. He stares for another moment, then places an empty purple coffee mug in front of the two glasses, making a neat trio. He returns to the sink to wash the dishes, the camera remains focused on the cups as Jade fades into the background, and the screen fades to black.

[ratasum]

Just a lil thing about a couple of old men trying to bury the hatchet after one's been "dead" for a decade. Rytlock and Logan talk during the early events of JW. (In Tyria-432, Logan "died" in Arah, only to be rescued by the wizards, taking Zojja's place in SotO.)

"So it is you."

There was no mistaking that voice. It had been a long time since he'd heard it, of course; ten years at least. They'd both grown older, changed in their own ways. Logan folded his arms over his chest as he turned, cocking his head to look up at the charr, who was straightened to tower over him, glaring down with his head turned to one side.

He supposed he couldn't blame him. For all anyone had known all that time, he'd fallen on the battlefield in Arah. The dead shouldn't return to life in any capacity, but hale and whole? He could understand why that would be jarring.

"It's good to see you too, Rytlock."

Rytlock chuffed at that, letting his posture relax, though his scowl didn't ease. He looked over Logan for a moment, then folded his arms as well, expression souring. "Crecia'd said you showed up with these... wizards. Didn't know if I believed her." He took a step closer, sniffing before his muzzle curled. He remembered Rytlock making that expression in Snaff's lab what felt like a lifetime ago, when he'd smelled something particularly foul. The fact he hadn't lashed out was proof enough of how time and recent events had mellowed him, at least a little. "And you didn't think it'd be prudent to tell anyone you were on this side of the dirt?"

Sighing, Logan spread one hand in front of him, the other pushing his hair out of his face. "It's complicated. I would have, but up until very recently, the wizards chose to remain completely separated from the rest of Tyria. They didn't think it would be safe for people to know of their existence at all. And that included their hand in my survival."

"You had people here." Rytlock was damnably hard to get a read on sometimes, but the irritation in his tone was impossible to miss, especially with how his tail lashed. "Probably would've been nice for them to know. Your damn foolishness did a number on them."

And you, was Logan's thought, but he didn't dare say it out loud, instead folding his hands behind his back to speak up. "Believe me, it wasn't for lack of trying. And I did get to see Zojja- she's done well for herself, even after everything she went through. And you as well. Think you're going to make Khan-Ur?"

Rytlock's hackles immediately raised and he chuffed again, hard, tail whipping hard enough Logan swore it would've cracked like a whip if it could have. "Don't change the subject." Growling low in his chest, he readjusted his posture, frowning hard. "...so what now. You're here. Gonna go back with them?"

"Well... yes. I've been asked to take over Mabon's bastion in the wake of his death, but I didn't want to rush because there were people here I wanted to see before then." He could explain why later. "Besides that, while Lady Tahir is dealing with things in the Janthir region, Zojja had suggested reaching out to Eir - and Caithe if she can spare some time from up there - and going to Elona to visit Glint's lair. A pilgrimage, as it were. To lay old hurts to rest. If you're interested."

The charr turned his head away for a moment, scowling as he bared his fangs. But finally he turned back, lifting his shoulders slightly. "Rh. Fine. Only if you plan on telling me what all... that you just said before means. Here you are asking me about the Khan-Ur position while you're doing all that."

Slowly, Logan nodded. "I'll explain everything, to all of you. I mean... Zojja knows, but you, Caithe, Eir... everyone else deserves to know what's coming." After a moment, he offered out a hand, watching Rytlock's face. "It's a start, isn't it?"

"Hmph. I suppose." Freeing one hand from where his arms had still been crossed, Rytlock reached out to grip Logan's wrist in one massive paw, allowing himself a smirk as he felt Logan's own hand grip his wrist. "Don't think I'm gonna let you off easy for disappearing like you did."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, old friend. It's good to be home."

For now.

[nemonihilominus]

Is This Good Latin? Agatha All Along Edition #4

This one, I thought, is gonna be short, since so far all the spells were pretty good when it comes to Latin. So spoiler alert, this one is a little bit more complicated. Vamonos.

Creating flying brooms

This one I did not catch. And I tried so hard! Finally I surrendered and Googled it (I admit I did not even try last time because from my CAOS days I did not expect to find anything lol). Reddit tells us that the spell goes like this.

Brote dilecta aperio viam.

Reddit also gives some sort of translation but I don't know if it's the official intended one, so I will tell you, but take it with a big grain of salt:

I open the way to the beloved bud.

So I can tell you right away this does not match what we see in Latin. At least not completely. aperio viam is okay. aperio comes from aperire (to open) and it is first personal singular (I). It requires direct object in accusative, which viam (the way or road) is. So far so good.

But watch, here comes a big revelation – brote is not Latin at all. It is in fact Spanish. It looks Latin enough and even the ending resembles one type of Latin nouns, so I guess we can use it. According to Wiktionary (and a Catalan Etymology site), the word is originally from Gaulish, which is very cool! It means "sprout or bud". dilecta means "esteemed" or "beloved".

NOTE: The following paragraph is basically a critique of the reddit translation and says nothing about the quality of the Latin phrase itself. I just thought I would explain why it doesn't work, because some of you reading this might find it interesting.

Brote dilecta definitely does not mean "to the beloved bud", because "to" would require a dative case in Latin (broti dilectae; note: broti is completely hypothetical, I decided I will treat brote as 3rd declension, so that's where I got the ending). While broti could have been intended originally, it is possible the actors simply pronounced it wrong, which I wouldn't blame them for. I am almost 100% sure that dilecta ended with -a though, so I am not inclined to say it was supposed to be dative.

As it stand, brote dilecta must be an ablative singular and the meaning therefore would be

I open the road with the beloved sprout.

I think it makes sense in the situation.

I also have an alternative this time. More after a gif break.

While watching I did not hear the first and last word well but I thought I did hear the second word pretty clearly, so I also propose an alternative:

Brote delecta aperio viam.

This one would mean:

I open the way with the chosen sprout.

While "beloved" (dilecta) sounds pretty, I don't think the DIY brooms are loved by anyone at that point. The materials, "the sprouts", were chosen however, plucked off even, which is exactly what delecta means.

BONUS: While browsing the tag I saw someone saying that the phrase actually means "Beloved, I open the way with a bud.", which we could do if we switched the word order to make it more probable. Maybe something like this?

Brote aperio viam, dilecta.

In conclusion, this is not a bad Latin, but not all of it is Latin, which is a first for me, exciting!

[luckykittysshowerthoughts]

Micheal's character is so depressing and so relatable at the same time. Also I wonder what your take is on his and luci's relationship, since they seem pretty close in celestial realm then in nb we see Michael highkey struggling which i don't blame bc he essentially lost 7 siblings at once (including lilith) then in og micheal is still very attached even though he isn't as bad as in nb. I just want your thoughts (you're the only one of 3 including my friend that I trust on Michael analysis/characterization)

First off, thank you so much for listening to my ramblings and praising them so. It's making this hyperfixating little freak very happy

Now, into the analysis. Though, this one is less an analysis and more me compiling everything canon has told us so far, because there's actually a lot there. It's just so spread apart over the course of the story that a lot of people miss the forest for the trees (which I think is another reason Michael as a whole is so misunderstood by the fandom), so it's nice to have a little overview.

Michael and Lucifer's Relationship

It was very nice to see the brotherly tones of Lucifer and Michael's relationship before the war. They seemed to have a typical friendly rivalry, and it was really cute to hear of the two messing with each other in very sibling-like ways.

One example I can think of off the top of my head was angel Lucifer camping out at the site of Michael's new observatory on the night before its grand opening, just to stick it to Michael that he got to his much-anticipated event first. That felt very much like a "little shit sibling" moment.

There was also Michael teasing Lucifer about his wings:

There was also the two of them attempting to pin Father's assignments onto each other, as Lucifer explains here:

They seemed to have a healthy dose of sibling rivalry to their relationship, and it was honestly really adorable.

It's also very clear that the two respected each other greatly. In Season 3, Mammon goes into detail about how much Michael loved Lucifer:

And in Nightbringer, angel Lucifer clearly held Michael in high regard- he seemed to believe Michael was more worthy mentor of Mammon, that he could give Mammon a better shot than he could.

However... I also think their relationship was always a bit dysfunctional. In Nightbringer we see a lot more of how obsessive Michael is- not even just in the wake of his grief after the fall, but even before that. Like this anecdote of Michael constantly sneaking into Lucifer's room:

Now, that's a clear violation of boundaries if I ever did see one. While the two were close, I think it's pretty clear Michael was a little too attached to Lucifer, and that likely caused problems in their relationship even before war broke out. We did get an explanation for this behavior in Season 3 of the OG, though that only paints an even more dysfunctional picture:

Michael idolizing Lucifer to this degree, and projecting himself onto him, is clearly not healthy. And I think Lucifer very well understood that, considering Satan is speaking from his memories of Lucifer's perspective here.

Another remark in Season 3 from angel Lucifer himself indicates that Lucifer didn't exactly see Michael as someone he could confide in:

All in all, I think their relationship was very complicated- as most relationships in Obey Me are. I think they both loved each other deeply, but Michael is the type of person to love a little too hard and that created problems.

Going into speculation territory now, I also think their relationship was tainted by their status in the Celestial Realm and the expectations that were placed upon them. I elaborated on this a little more in this post, but to summarize, I believe Michael is the eldest brother who had a rough time living up to the title while watching Lucifer become everything an eldest sibling "should" be. I think Michael was under a lot of pressure that he wasn't quite mature enough to handle properly, and he knew it. Meanwhile, Lucifer was also pushed to be a perfect, flawless Seraph, the pride and joy of the Celestial Realm- and the perfectionism instilled in him by their father only promoted Michael's idolization of him. We have one brother incredibly insecure with the way he presents himself, leaning on the image of perfection created by an equally insecure brother. It's a self-perpetuating cycle.

I also suspect that Father may have played favorites between the two. I don't have any real concrete evidence of this, but something I've been thinking about lately are the Ring of Light and the Ring of Wisdom, which were created for Lucifer and Michael respectively. In official merch (and possibly in-story as well I don't remember), the Ring of Light is shown to be gold, while the Ring of Wisdom is described to be made of brass and iron. Yeah... if this was intentional I think it's pretty clear who the favorite was here. Come on, at least give Michael silver. I don't think Michael is petty enough to be upset about this specifically, he's not Barb, but it might be indicative of a larger problem in the family dynamic. If Father favored Lucifer, that could also be an explanation for Michael's strange idolization of him.

[glitter-stained]

Hey Glitter, what does neuropsychology mean?

(Because I realise the name doesn't clarify stuff at all)

So, in my JT psychology meta, I don't exclusively write neuropsychology meta. For example, the TBI meta is a neuropsychology meta, but the catatonia meta is a purely atheoric psychopathology meta (we'll get back to what that means).

Academically, I study clinical psychology and psychopathology with a speciality in developmental psychopathology and child neuropsychology. That means I get classes on stuff like general clinical stuff (ie how to conduct a clinical interview, suicide prevention etc), some stuff about adult psychology, general psychopatholgy classes) and on top of that more classes about child psychology.

> clinical psychology: The psychology of care, what we do in therapy. Now the whole JT meta is organised under a clinical logic: first figure out what the issues/cause of suffering/diagnosis/etc. is, also identify the resources, and then based on that knowledge and where the patient is at, establish routes for therapeutical intervention: all of this is clinical psychology. As a field, I would oppose it to fields like social or IO psychology, which are focused on understanding how society or organizations work. Social psychologists are not therapists, however, it's not a disconnected field either; we owe them concepts that help in our understanding of psychopatholgy and clinical psychology at large, like learned helplessness (a concept we'll talk about in the UTH VS Rebirth Red Hood meta). The concepts I refer to in the victim-blaming meta come from social psychology.

> psychopathology: Pathology = study of illnesses; psycho= mind: the study of mental illness. With pathology, you can do two things: simply describe it without trying to explain/understand it according to a theory (what I called atheoric psychopathology) or use the framework from your theoretical field (or invent one, if you're a revolutionary) to understand it. Atheoric psychopathology is what the DSM-5 does (though sometimes imperfectly). That's what the S in DSM comes from: Diagnostic Statistic Manual of Mental Disorders, because we're basically doing statistics to see which group of symptoms are usually grouped together, and we use that to describe those disorders and make up diagnostic categories. It's an essential tool that allows clinicians to understand what everyone is talking about and communicate about patients without attempting murder on their colleagues, but it's also limiting because you take the risk of grouping two things that manifest the same way but don't work the same way, so that's why it's essential to understand how the disorders work.

> developmental psychopathology: So this is kind of the popular model in psychopathology rn, especially child psychopatholgy. Basically instead of studying disorders as classifications we study the development of psychopathology in terms of trajectories, and study the factors that may impact those trajectories. It's maybe a little complicated to explain simply here, but it's, for example, why children with very severe, super early criminal neglect might end up displaying symptoms akin to autism. I'll try to include it across my meta where I can, because I believe it's the most adequate perspective.

> neuropsychology: And this one is a lie. Well, not technically a lie so much as an abuse of the word? The thing is, neuropsychology is a real thing, but also when we talk about neuropsychology we conflagrate actual neuropsychology with cognitive psychology (at least in the country I'm studying in. Maybe in English speaking countries it might be different.) Let me explain.

-cognitive psychology is the psychology of cognitive functions. The study of intelligence, memory, attention, inhibition, flexibility, working memory, etc, etc. It has nothing to do with the study of the brain, and what we're doing is basically, through scientific experiments and the study of people with specific disorders, make models according to our theories of how those things work and develop, and of course study how the develop over time and what impacts them. And then, we use this knowledge to analyse how disorders work in terms of cognitive functions, conduct evaluations that help not only with the diagnosis but with designing strategies that help with the disorder and its manifestations in the person specifically. That therapist conducting your IQ test, autism evaluation, adhd tests, etc.? Cognitive psychology. That therapist helping you design a planner and come up with time management that actually work for you, designing flexibility exercises that cater to your special interest to keep you invested? Cognitive psychology. Nothing neuro about it. But for some godforsaken reason, we call the people who do it neuropsychologists (at least in my country) so, in practice, neuropsychology.

-actual neuropsychology, however, is also a thing! Now technically, neuropsychology is just the study of the association between psychological concepts and neurology. However, in practice, I've only ever seen and heard of cognitive neuropsychology, which is focused on the association between neurology and cognitive psychology (and that makes a lot of sense, I struggle to even envision what kind of scientifically valid neuropsychology would be based on any other kind of psychology).

In practice, the guy who makes your cognitive evaluation before and after a brain surgery to make sure you don't lose any major cognitive function during the surgery is a neuropsychologist (and that's important as fuck, ask the HM patient). The TBI meta, and evaluating the damage caused by a TBI in general, or by an epilepsy/encephalopathy or hypoxia (lack of oxygen in the brain) or an aneurysm or a stroke or a brain bleed etc, etc is neuropsychology. In terms of research, neuropsychology is super useful, but also be careful! A lot of research in neuropsychology (neurosciences in general) is badly interpreted and relayed in media, politics etc. and give way to a whole new branch of pseudoscientific bs, because neurosciences are 1) a very young branch of science and 2) a real bitch to explain simply. (I said it before, but what I explain of neuropsychology is a grossly simplified version that's good enough to explain how TBIs work, but would be insufficient to explain how recovery works.)

In any case, I hope that clarified what all those branches of psychology refer to, be mindful of pseudo-science, and don't hesitate to ask if you have questions!

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