#Neither of which is how that sort of language is supposed to be used

[maeamian]

lmao not to brag about getting blocked on twitter, but caught the Jesse Singal block for repeatedly explaining to his fans that he's a clown who couldn't read a study without injecting personal bias into it to save his life or soul.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Please, talk about the Gom Jobbar scene

Oh hell yes.

So this is one of those posts that really should be a short video essay of me talking over the scene but instead it is gonna be a loooooong wall of text and screenshots. Maybe it will assume its final form some day if I'm ever in possession of the free time and patience to make video essays. I also highly recommend watching Denis Villeneuve's own breakdown of this scene from 2021. I'll try not to duplicate things said there.

We have to start with the setup, which begins with this scene:

We see Jessica on her knees, in the rain, waiting for an arriving ship. These are the first shots in the movie where we see Jessica when no one else is watching her, and this woman who stood calm and composed before representatives of the Emperor of the Known Universe is terrified. Which creates an immediate sense of dread over whoever is coming in that ship.

Whomst in the fuck now?

We also get this shot where we're alone with Jessica. It's a little hard to see in a still frame but there's a moment where she, like, steels herself before she wakes Paul up.

Holy fuck tho, I just noticed the similarities between this shot and the one of the Bene Gesserit arriving, with the almost monochromatic color palette and the shafts of white light.

Once Paul wakes up we shift to his POV. He immediately knows something is off ("What's wrong?" is the first thing he says) but gets no information about what's happening.

Then we get this short scene, where Paul is told he is going to meet the Reverend Mother and but not much else about what's going on. The whole "She wants to know about your dreams." "How does she know about my dreams?" [no answer from Jessica] exchange, I think, implies that she knows because Jessica told her about Paul's dreams, which is this little tiny betrayal of confidence that gives Paul the first inclination that his mother may not be someone he can fully trust in this situation. Which is exactly what Dr. Yueh warns him about immediately after.

We also get two new languages used in this scene. Dr. Yueh speaks to Paul in Mandarin, which he understands and presumably Jessica does not. This gives us a piece of information about Paul's curiosity toward other cultures and his facility with languages. And Jessica uses the Atreides battle sign, which Paul also understands. Outside the library, Jessica pauses to give Paul one more silent warning, although she still hasn't told him what's about to happen.

This is just the setup. So before we've even entered the room, we've created this sense of unsettled foreboding dread (the Denis Signature Vibe) without a clear understanding of why things are happening--which is exactly how Paul feels.

I should also add that in the book, this scene takes place during the day, with the Reverend Mother sitting in front of a window. Shifting it to the middle of the night not only makes it way creepier but also tells us that (1) the Reverend Mother is the kind of person who can command Jessica's attention at any time of day or night and (2) this is all somewhat illicit and possibly is happening without Leto's knowledge.

Whomst in the fuuuuuuck?

We get this sort of weird POV shot of Paul crossing the room when it's not actually happening:

which I think is supposed to suggest some subtler form of control than the Voice, which Paul resists.

Before they've even properly entered the room, Mohiam manages to insult both Paul's parents ("defiance in the eyes, like his father" and dismissing Jessica with a curt "leave us"). And the first thing Paul says is to defend his mother's place in the social hierarchy ("You dismiss my mother in her own house?") with all the haughtiness you would expect.

The power dynamic gets rapidly clarified.

Momentary aside to say that I love the composition of this shot. Neither of them are quite on the third--they're just a bit too close to each other to make the shot look balanced. But neither of them are in center frame either--the box is in the center. They're not exactly aligned to the light gray columns between the bookshelves behind them, either, and the bookshelves are just slightly asymmetrical. It all makes things feel just a little claustrophobic and unsettling. Denis Villeneuve frequently uses this technique of creating unbalanced shots and intentionally leaving too much space in awkward parts of the frame to create a sense of unease.

Paul isn't kneeling in the book either--he's standing beside the chair in a setup that I don't think would actually work given the heights of the actors here, or would look awkward as hell. So they've solved a practical blocking problem and done some storytelling with it as well.

This is where we get our first look at the Voice at full power, and it's one of only two scenes where we get some subjective POV of what it feels like to be Voice-controlled (the other one being Feyd-Rautha and Lady Margot's interaction which deserves its own post). I really like that they didn't go for Voice Slow (zombie shuffling across the room) because Voice Fast is much more disturbing. The subjective experience of it seems closest to like, blacking out and waking up in a place or doing a thing and not knowing how you got there. The camera effect is just a really fast dolly and a slick edit, but Timothée really sells it with his split-second moment of confusion and shock before he realizes what happened and gets angry about it.

So now we're here, with the poison needle and the pain box.

"No need to call the guards. Your mother stands behind that door. No one would get past her."

This is a slick fucking piece of editing. Because just as Paul is learning that his mother has not only trapped him in this situation but is ensuring it continues uninterrupted, we cut to Jessica for the first time since she left the room and we see how absolutely terrified she is.

Also from this point, the sound in the film starts crossing the barrier of the door--we hear some of the dialogue between Paul and Mohiam when we're on shots of Jessica, and when the pain sound effect starts up, we hear it continuously on both sides of the door. So even though Jessica is not literally experiencing the pain, it feels like she is vicariously.

It would be really easy to tip the balance of sympathy in this scene one way or the other--toward Paul who's realizing his mother has handed him over to a painful and potentially lethal test, or toward Jessica who is listening to her child scream in pain and not only cannot stop it but is tasked with making sure it continues. But Denis Villeneuve is an absolute master at controlling and directing your POV in a way that allows you to feel sympathy for multiple characters at once and engage with complicated, contradictory emotional landscapes, and this is a little demonstration of what he's going to do on a much larger scale later in the story.

Timothée's pain acting...is excellent, that's all I'll say about that. Love that he's allowed to get all gross and drippy with it.

Now we get to the litany against fear.

Jessica starts it specifically in response to hearing Paul scream on the other side of the door. So, practically, she is using it to control her own fear. But the way the scene is intercut, it plays as if she is almost coaching or guiding Paul into controlling his own reactions. With every line that she says, we cut back to Paul as he is starting to master the situation.

"I must not fear." Paul is not in control here and seems about at his physical limit for keeping his hand in the box.

"Fear is the mind-killer." This is the one where it really seems like he could be reciting the same litany in his head or under his breath.

"Fear is the little death that brings obliteration." We don't really see Paul's face in the accompanying shot, but the pain sound effect really goes into overdrive, like she is pushing him harder.

"I will face my fear and I will permit it to pass over me and through me." Seems like Paul is getting to some kind of Zen place or whatever where he can withstand the pain.

This is when the first flash of vision pops up and the balance of power starts to shift in Paul's favor. We realize it at the same time both he and the Reverend Mother do.

Then we have this great moment where he looks up at her and we don't quite know what is happening but somehow Paul has started to win this interaction. And we go through a whole Face Journey with him that's intercut increasingly rapidly with Jessica's lines, flashes of the visions, and Mohiam's reaction as she starts to realize she's lost control of the situation.

"And when it has gone past--"

"I will turn the inner eye to see its path--"

"--and where the fear has gone, there will be nothing--"

"Only I will remain."

This part is great because like...nothing is happening. He just looks up at her. But we know that whatever battle is going on between them, Paul is winning now.

(Side note: this is a duel, right? This is his first of three duels, and like the duel with Feyd, he wins it on his knees.)

Then as soon as she says, "Enough," the facade cracks again a little.

And then he does the thing!! That is one of my favorite Paul physicalities!! Where he tilts his chin up so he can look down his nose at someone. Which is particularly audacious when you're on your knees.

It looks arrogant but there's also something a bit...childish? about it. It's something that he does specifically when he feels he does not have control of the situation and he's trying to regain it. He does it to the Emperor at the end of Part Two.

Anyway I LOVE the whole section of intercutting between Jessica and Paul because like. They are physically separated by a door but emotionally they feel connected. She put him in this situation, but then it's almost like she is reminding him that she also gave him the training to survive it. Which like, isn't that a microcosm of their whole fucked-up relationship?

"...You inherit too much power."

"What, because I'm a duke's son?"

"Because you are Jessica's son. You have more than one birthright, boy."

Almost all the dialogue from this scene is taken word for word from the book (although sometimes condensed). This is one of the few lines that got changed. In the book, Jessica is the one who reminds Paul that he is a duke's son--not her son. In general the movie dialogue is more faithful to what's in the book than you might expect. But every once in a while there is a line that feels like it's talking back to the original text like this.

There's another little emotional reversal right at the end of the scene, when Jessica comes in and her face just floods with relief at realizing Paul is still alive. But meanwhile you can see that Paul is really processing how betrayed by her he feels.

And then, after all that, they do talk about his dreams.

Denis has said in interviews that this was one of the very first scenes they filmed. Which is. Insane to me. This is an iconic scene from the book that every fan will come to with expectations and it's a really hard acting job! For everyone involved but especially for Timothée, because so much of the scene turns on him having an intense reaction to something that's not real and generally just...doing stuff with his face, and hoping that the sound design and the score and some scenes that haven't been shot yet will sell what's going on. Usually you would want to work up to an intense emotional scene like this, give the cast and crew a little time to get comfortable with each other. Nope! Anyway Denis has also said that he knew after this scene that he had cast correctly and yeah. I would say so.

[sol-kha-ne-lubri-if]

Sol-kha-ne-Lubri

Rational is to Irrational as Irrational is to Rational. Then again, in this land, Rational is to Rational as Irrational is to Irrational, and Positives are to Negative as Negative is to Compromise; This ways are that ways, one ways are other ways. This way, that, here, over there, which way is true and what way leads fair?

Your home land is odd– a rarity, that much is a given, but even in a land of all that is odd and irregular, that doesn’t stop unhidden exclusivity in the form of a certain acceptance letter for which you had been ridden.

Welcome to Sol Kha-ne Lubris, even the richest royal families couldn’t pay their way into these academy walls.

There are two sides to every coin, parallel lines that are never meant to meet. But since when have the dreamscapes every been one to abide by those rules?

You play as... You, or-- well, more accurately, you play as the ever-fantastic you, a regular in a realm of oddity and circumstance, a wonderful, enigmatic you who has just been offered acceptance into the most prestigious magical academy in the dreamscape.

And as you... You guide yourself, both physically and mentally, though the halls of this new school, making allies and (possibly) starring in a very casual(?) school romance with the next generation’s elite.

۞ Play as a being of your choice, whether male, female, neither and all, no one would dare step on your shoes without being respectful of how you are called.

۞ Have your ancestry come from a land of riches, or a land of the cymbal waeves? the Victorian ages or the age of industrialism? Whether you live in a forest, a mountain, the skies or the oceans, the academy’s exclusivity is not limited to where your birth is.

۞ Care you for dolls? For stars? For royal romances? a group of 6 students are susceptible no matter how you play your advances. 

۞ Do you excel in history and language, or the art of alchemy, or physical prowess. The academy accommodates all sorts of knowledge, so no need to fret. Should you excel in none of them, then how strange that your acceptance had been granted without need for background process… 

۞ Dreamers are those who walk through your lands and think of it all as fantastical. However, one familiar dreamer in particular seems quite lost. Do you truly care for them as an equal despite your otherworldly hailing, or will you show that keeping them alive comes at a hefty cost?

ღ Dottie Hendrix, The Almighty: Entitled, egotistical, and ethereal, Dottie is the top dog at this school with the intelligence to back it up. For your sake, you best hope she finds you fun to keep her company. 

ღ Ambrose Hendrix, The Lapdog: Loyal to one and only one. He isn’t afraid to use whatever means possible to ensure the safety of his allegiance, even if it means using his siblings and cousins.

ღ Loriette Kei, The Cheshire Cat: A mercenary in their own right, they work from the shadows that share the same color as their primary source power, eyes always watching, smile never waning.

ღ Lorelei Kei, The Plague Doctor: Keeping her eyes downcast but ears sharp and senses keen, they seem to have the answer for any ail that may befall you, but do you dare keep your eyes open during her procedure?

ღ Nadia, Half a whole kingdom: Birds of a feather flock together, one half of a whole. The supposed “naughty” to the “nice”, be as kind to him as you want, she has their own standards on who keeps her graces.

ღ Noré, Half a whole government: Birds of a feather flock together, one half of a whole. The supposed “nice” to the “naughty”, but is he good enough to keep in your circle of trustees?

⚜⚜ ☾ ⚜⚜ ☾ ⚜⚜ ♔ ⚜⚜ ☽ ⚜⚜ ☽ ⚜⚜

DEMO https://dashingdon.com/go/13924

[thebibliosphere]

Hello Joy! If you're up for it, I've got a question for you. I've started writing a new story that I set in a world based on 1500's Scotland and I wanted the main characters to have Scottish accents, but alas I am from the American Midwest. Do you know of any resources or any people who could help me write my dialogue more accurately?

There are some resources for Scots English (like the the DSL), but I’m going to give you the advice I wish a lot of non-Scots people would use when it comes to writing historical Scottish accents: don’t.

The Scots language is not a monolith, and accents and dialect to this day vary greatly depending on region.

Most of the time even with research, what happens is a butchery of our language which borders on parody (sometimes even amped up by publishers because they want the Outlander effect) and is neither correctly spelled nor even phonetically accurate. A better way of writing accents/dialogue (and the way I tend to do it myself even when writing this sort of thing) would be to use regional and tone indicators.

So things like “he spoke with the broad, sweeping brogue of the lower west coast” or “her manner of speaking quickened with excitement, thickening her accent.”

If you want to use some Scots words, you can do so. Just make sure you look them up in the DSL and spell them correctly instead of making up your own.

A common phrase I like to use as an example for how to inject some Scots words into the dialect without murdering it would be the often very sarcastic “oh aye, so you think so?”

It’s a phrase often used when someone is blustering or maybe being a wee bit rude. Sort of like saying “oh really?” As you invite someone to keep digging their own grave.

I’ve seen it spelled every which way from “och aye, di’ye ‘ink sew?” (Pure jibberish, don’t do that) to the slightly more legible if not entirely accurate, “oh aye, dae ye think soe?”

Another could be something like, “oh aye, he’s muckle canny” to mean “oh yes, he’s very smart.” I’ve seen all of those words misspelled at one point, the most memorable being “och aye ‘e’s mochel cannae” which is just…

Canny is smart/capable while cannae means you can’t do something. (And muckle can be spelt mochell if you want to but some modern Scots readers will squint at it)

I tried explaining that what the author had written was the equivalent of “yes. he’s very can’t” but she wouldn’t listen and it went to print anyway. Agony.

Anyway, I mentioned the DSL up top so I suppose I should link to it.

Most of the recorded words there are from 17th century onward. There is an option to search prior to that, though it is limited.

There are surviving texts from the 1500s, though unless you want your work to be readable by a limited few, I wouldn’t try to imitate it. It’s mostly written in archaic Scots that’d be illegible to even modern Scottish readers.

If it’s something you intend to go to print with, I’d also suggest hiring a Scots sensitivity reader. They can make sure there’s nothing glaringly obvious with misspellings and also if they know their history, point out where something is off.

My favorite is when Scottish historical stories have potato scones in the 11th century, which begets the concept of agricultural time travelers, but alas, it’s never that interesting and just a factual error.

Anyway, I hope that was helpful and not discouraging. Please do write your story. Just don’t fall down the Outlander trap of writing nonsense and trying to pass it off as a language that still exists and for which there is recognized meanings and spelling. Which it sounds like you want to do, so yay! Thank you for wanting to be considerate and as accurate as can be.

[ganondoodle]

i have never played or seen anything of outer wilds (game) and im just now watching someone play it and i keep thinking like .. man .. the sonau could have been something like that in totk, like even the architecture of the nomai in OW looks similar - very angular and mostly off-white green and gold, the name nomai is similar to the english translation for the sonau (zonai), the only(?) somewhat living one of the old and gone people is called solanum which reminds me of sonau and the ore sonanium (engl. zonaite), heck the nomai are goat like looking people with three eyes and use a highly advanced but little understood tech that you need to discover!!! they got swirly patterns alot! they even fuck up some time stuff!!

and im not saying nintendo copied them or something, the general idea isnt something all too unique (as no ideas are) but some of the similarities (like highly advanced in tech three eyed goat people that have a white and green/gold color scheme) do just make me sad bc i keep thinking about thats how the sonau could have been (minus the space stuff but moreso the VIBES and theme, game design aorund them!!), the way its done in OW is so neat, also i love that you cant understand them without a tool and you cant really communicate with them in turn like either! like the fact that there is not even a hint of a language barrier to the sonau in totk is like??? especially given the time span that is supposed to be between the past and the present in totk, not being able to clearly communicate would have been a really good and rather easy way to make the sonau more mysterious! even if you gave them subtitles that translated their language later on it would still make them feel a little more ancient

... actually ..its even worse .. in totks present theres only few people that can translate the text of the sonau, so the idea is there .. but how is zelda able to talk to them no problem? and rauru with you also mineru you could argue its bc they spent a long time as ghosts on the islands or in the shiek- purah pad but neither of them had any contact to the surface so that doesnt work, zelda teaching it to them also doesnt work bc that would take time she doesnt have and she literally talks to them all normally the literal first time they even meet ... it just being bc the hylian language never changed somehow so rauru and mineru just talk hylian is ...... the most boring answer tbh, not even slightly different manner of speech? over all that time? not some sort of accent?? even some of the old zora got one in botw (at least in german .. then again they also removed dumsda (engl. hudson) quirky way to talk ..... ), nothing? no??

it kinda plays into the whole lot that is a big problem with totk imo, the idea is there or even mentioned but its either not acted upon, never adressed or answered the most boring way

[tobiasdrake]

With your tonal language I can’t tell if you are exaggerating or genuinely hating Yakou.

My relationship with Yakou is complicated, in large part because his creator and I have very different sets of values. Yakou is a character designed to be complicated, but to leave you with an ultimately positive feeling towards him. He's a man haunted by his past, but also one with strong enough values and convictions that he can serve as something of a role model nonetheless.

My issue with Yakou is that a lot of the things that are designated as his flaws - his heavy drinking and willingness to murder - are things I don't have a problem with. Meanwhile, the things that are designated as his virtues? Well....

Kazutaka Kodaka is a man with profoundly heteronormative views on gender that come out in his work. He has strong opinions about binary masculinity and femininity, which get expressed in his writing - and his record with trans and non-binary characters is spotty.

With Yakou, this comes out as a sort of inadvertent foot-in-mouth syndrome, where he can become incredibly obnoxious in the moments where he's meant to be likable simply as a consequence of what Kodaka thinks are good values.

Yakou and Desuhiko are the two characters through which Kodaka explores masculinity. Fubuki, Yuma, Kurumi, and Vivia all have genders, but their stories aren't about gender. Halara, meanwhile, has neither a binary gender nor a story about gender. But Yakou and Desuhiko have masculinity itself as a major topic of conversation.

Which. Means. Kodaka, a guy with spotty views on gender, uses these characters to talk about gender. That's. Okay.

Desuhiko is used as a negative portrayal of masculinity. His worst traits are derived from trying too hard to express his masculinity. He's a kid with low self-esteem chafing under the yoke of trying to live up to a cultural standard, to earn respect by Doing The Thing whether he even understands why he's doing it or not.

This leaves him drifting through life constantly exclaiming "HAVE I MENTIONED HOW STRAIGHT AND NORMAL I AM!? OH BOY I SURE DO LOVE WOMEN!" to everyone he meets. He's identified The Womenz as the cure for his insecurity, even though he doesn't actually seem that invested and is honestly surprisingly chaste. He's just performing masculinity, hoping he'll get an A+ grade in Manliness and that maybe that will finally give him value as a person.

For as much as I dunk on Desuhiko, this is a fairly good commentary on what a patriarchal and heteronormative society does to insecure boys.

But then we have Yakou. He offers the counterpoint, as a more positive portrayal of masculinity. But. Like. His central thesis isn't that different from Desuhiko's. He's a romantic at heart who's central thesis is that the true measure of a man is defined by his relationship to a woman.

He's the heteronormative ideal: A man who controls his emotions, loves with all his heart, objectifies women to demonstrate a healthy sexuality but is committed in his heart of hearts to this one woman, who he would give his life for without question. He would be happily married with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids if not for this one asshole who stole his woman from him.

The moments where you're meant to roll your eyes and chuckle at Desuhiko are when he's trying to express masculinity. And the moments where you're meant to like Yakou are, similarly, moments when he's successfully expressing masculinity.

But the values he expresses in those moments? The things that come out of his mouth that are meant to make you appreciate him more? They're things like "Men exist just for women" and "You'd be prettier if you smiled more", confidently asserted in what's supposed to be a touching moment of emotionally connecting with the player character and, by extension, the player.

Most of the time when I'm dunking on Yakou, it's just for fun. He's far from my favorite character but he's harmless, and there are things I do enjoy about him. But the moments Kodaka writes when he's trying to make Yakou look good are the times when I can't fucking stand him at all.

[mundaneandmagicalcreature]

The Newsreader & gender expectations. Part II: Dale Jennings and being a newsreader

I feel like there's a line connecting Dale's mum with his career ambitions and with how he feels about his sexuality.

Dale's not that young. So, why hasn't reflected more about his sexuality and his relationships? Why is he still trying to erase parts of himself (darling, it won't work)? Why does he assume that everyone wants to get married?

"It's 1987, there was not really the language for him to discover that (and he's working in such a rigid environment), to even really understand what bisexuality is or what pansexuality is or maybe demisexual (sic)." Sam Reid. ABC Radio National

Both Sam and Michael have talked about Dale lacking the language about his sexuality. While it's true that that he may not have come across the word "bisexual" (although the famous Bowie interview is from 1979), I feel like more than a label he needs a narrative. It's pretty common for queer people, when we're discovering our sexuality to look for people like us: historical figures, fictional characters, people in our own life, etc. Just some one to show us how to live.

Gerry also doesn't have a label, and yet he seems much more happy and comfortable in his sexuality. His life history could be that narrative Dale needs: fall in love with a woman, marry, have a child, have a successful career AND have sex with men on the side. But Dale is set on monogamy. Which is absolutely fine, but he can't imagine himself as attracted to both men and women, and monogamous, AND happy.

My theory is that he's never had the time to think about this things because he was an emotionally parentified child. We know that Dale's father died when he was only 15. He had to take responsibility for his mum happiness. And he's holding that responsibility ever since.

This is more fanfiction than analysis territory, but I can imagine a recently widowed Val glued to the TV, watching news. And I can imagine a very young Dale thinking "Now that my dad's dead I have to be a proper man, the kind of man my mum values. And that man is a newsreader."

"I suppose Dale has always sort of believe that the pinnacle of... everything that represents stability and assuredness and the kind of like archetype of what it is to be a man and what it is to be a voice of authority is represented in this newsreader kind of form." Sam Reid. The Newsreader Podcast. 06 | Fireworks with Sam Reid and Michael Lucas

I know that sexuality is not correlated to gender, but these things intersect and the ideal man for society (specially in this moment in time) is a straight man (who gets married to a woman, has children, provides for them financially, etc). Queer men are seeing as feminine and therefore faulty. Dale's running away from being perceived that way.

What I would call "a partner" and Adam calls "a lover", Val calls "a friend". The euphemism makes it pretty clear that she's not comfortable with queerness. Dale wants to make her happy, so he has to be a straight man.

Even after more than a year of Helen and Dale being together, Val says she wasn't sure Dale was going to propose/marry her. Maybe she thought they were going to break up, or that they would continue to "live in sin" (lets note the religious expression for a moment...) for ever. But what I hear (and judging by Dale's awkward reaction, he may be thinking the same) is "up until this moment I was afraid you were actually gay".

By the end of the season, Dale and Helen have broken up. He buys his own house and while he's showing it to his mum, they have that little dialogue. "It's not a family home", once again that idea of nuclear family shows up. For the first time he's going against her wishes. Does this mean he's happy? Sam doesn't think so and neither do I. I think he just switched his mum's expectations for those of the society in general. And society expect for people who work on TV to have big fancy houses, so that's what he bought.

________

(part I)

feel free to comment in whatever form you like, I'm nosy and I like to read what other people think.

[warvariations]

oh my god yesterdayy. so the place wasn't as messed up as when i went to have a look on saturday, turns out they were fixing the sewage system on the street in front and that's why it stank, yesterday it didn't thankfully. well first of all the boss forgot to put up my pictures on the website so i didn't have any bookings and i had to contact him personally and get my pics up which was stressful and caused me to waste my morning, once that got sorted some bookings did come through and the work itself was chill except for the last guy who basically wrestled me the entire time trying to take advantage of me because he was pissed that we were behind on schedule, thankfully i've done this for over 10 years + i did a 2 day intimacy coordination session on how to wrestle someone on a bed when we shot Bliss and i handled it very gracefully and firmly but i definitely didn't need any of that bs. which only happened because the fucking hausfrau literally bullied me all day and caused me to be behind on schedule and also too afraid to end the booking early cause i didn't feel looked after by her, rather the opposite. it all started with my first client requesting 'intimate shaving' which is an extra they offer where u shave the client's genitals in the tub, this gets you 10 extra and is done without any form of protection, you're basically supposed to very likely come into contact with the client's blood for a mere 10 euro. i said i wasn't willing to do that and neither was i willing to do watersports because i can barely pee when i'm alone let alone on someone (it used to be chill but now i can't do it anymore, it's not about the piss i just can't let go) and instead of being like okay it's your choice she yelled at me that if i "didn't wanna do anything" there was no point in me being there. neither saturday nor yesterday did anyone take care of explaining anything to me and the hausfrau would reply harshly if i asked questions but then yell at me if i didn't follow the protocol exactly (like where to get new oil, how to set up the room, in what order to do certain things... basic stuff that a hausfrau is meant to show you on your first day). it felt really anachronistic, a massage parlor in berlin in 2024 does not need to be run like that. also like, there are not enough rooms for the amount of bookings/workers and the shower is in the kitchen, the shower being also the 'smokers room' like. it's giving trafficking. the bullying went on all day and she would often get other people involved to laugh at me / speak about me loudly in different languages knowing i couldn't fully understand but did understand it was about me, literally for the mere sake of it. it's not like i can't handle that, i went to school for 15 years and this is just how my teachers acted, but i really do not need to, especially for 60 an hour. at least one client paid me double and got my contact and the other 2 were gentle and respectful. i'm supposed to go in on thursday and there's a different hausfrau on thursdays (who seemed nicer) but i don't think i wanna risk it. a rate that's 1/4 of my outcall rate is sth i was willing to accept for the safety a parlor would provide but this woman went out of her way to make me unsafe; on an outcall i wouldn't have been late on schedule which wouldn't have caused me to deal with an angry client and i would have left if the client crossed any boundaries repeatedly. and that's that! fuck that bitch and the shitty atmosphere she's created in there and fuck the pimps who run that place.

[asimplearchivist]

' 𝕐𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝔽𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 '

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄, 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ✴ ⤏ when the kids grow restless during the weekend, you entreat optimus to take the group of you out for 'educational' purposes—all goes well until a thunderstorm strikes, but it could have resulted worse. pairing ✴ tfp!optimus prime/reader word count ✴ 15.1k a/n ✴ ⤏ I’ve never actually been to sequoia national park, but I read up on it a little and found out you can’t just camp anywhere in the park - but for the sake of this fanfic, I’m going to tweak it a little. thus is the beauty of fanfiction, I suppose. also, since it’s kind of in the middle of the school year, there’s not a lot of people visiting the park so optimus has more leniency on not being confined to his altmode than he would normally (plus he has scanners that would detect anyone nearby).⤏ on a smaller note, ‘s’mol’lis’ is derived from latin ‘mollis solis’, which means ‘soft sunlight’. because cybertronian (at least according to fanon, which I accept as canon) uses a lot of adjective strings describing the word they’re saying all at the same time on different frequencies (see: the masterpiece that is Fortuna Primigenia by SS_Shitstorm), it might be difficult to derive every meaning from hearing it, especially taking into account the fact that we can neither hear all the frequencies they use nor fully understand their language to begin with, but this is can be taken as the full meaning of the word even though it’s technically a descriptor. consider it a term of endearment that’s really subtle but not really a term of endearment at the same time - it’s just how optimus sees you. I also picked latin because that’s what many of the names are derived from and it’s just convenient as well as ancient/alien-sounding when you tweak it a little. ⤏ now that I think about it, this oneshot has a lot of similarities to FP, actually…consider it an homage of sorts, since it’s been my most recent reread of it that inspired me enough to finish this old thing. :) the poem referenced is ‘Serenade’ by Mary Weston Fordham!

“Truth or dare.”

“Um...truth.”

Miko groaned. “You’ve been picking truth this whole time!”

Raf shifted nervously, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he glanced at Miko from his laptop. “You made Jack lick the floor.”

“He’s got a point,” you said, looking up from your textbook.

Miko groaned a little louder, folding her arms and pouting. “You guys are no fun.”

“No one likes licking the floor, Miko. And I would hope you don’t.” You jotted down a definition in your notebook. “He’s still brushing his teeth. He’s been in there for ten minutes.”

“Of course no one does! That’s the point!” the girl cried, her bangs falling into her face. She brushed them behind her ear with an irritated huff. “Fine. What’s a place you want to go to?”

Raf perked up a bit at this, seemingly relieved that it was a relatively tame question from the Japanese girl. “Oh, uh...well, Italy is up there, since that’s where my family is from...but one of my cousins went to Yosemite and he said it was really pretty there. I’d love to see the trees.”

“Yeah, that’s always been on my bucket list, too,” you admitted. You reached for one of the highlighters strewn on the couch cushion next to you, marking an important quote on the page. “I read that they get up to two hundred and fifty feet.” Miko’s eyes rounded. “Wow, that’s like...fifty Optimuses!”

“Only about eight,” Raf corrected, “and it would be Optimi, since his name is derived from Latin the way we understand it, but yeah. Puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?”

Miko stuck her tongue out at the boy, and you chuckled softly. “What about you, Miko? Got anywhere you want to visit?”

“Besides Cybertron?” she quipped, casting a glance towards the groundbridge looming far behind you. “Not really. I’ve been to most places I’ve wanted to go already.”

“By sneaking in through a groundbridge,” Jack grumbled from the stairwell. He still looked worryingly pale, a stark ivory against his jet-black hair.

Your brow furrowed. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he said, raising a palm and sinking into the couch between you and Raf, jumping and scooping the writing supplies towards you. “Remind me next time why I won’t play truth or dare with Miko ever again.”

“Hey!” she cried, and you rolled your eyes with a fond smile.

“Let him lie, Miko. He’s just had a traumatic experience. Who knows what’s been on these floors.”

She huffed, but seemed to drop it nevertheless. She turned her attention to you. “What about you? Truth or dare?”

“You already know my answer,” you responded.

The girl growled. “I might start playing with ‘Bee. He’s more fun.” She tilted her head, rubbing at her chin as Jack muttered a quiet ‘you mean more gullible’ that she, thankfully, didn’t hear. She shot Raf a look when he snickered, though. “Hmm…what about...nah.” She pursed her lips and studied you intensely, as though she were trying to read your mind. You felt dread begin to bubble low in your belly. “Do you...oh!” She straightened sharply, eyes lighting up with mischief. “Do you have a crush on anybody?”

You stilled, feeling your stomach grow cold and leaden. You tried to play off your hesitation by giving her a pointed glance before returning your attention to your homework. “No.”

Unfortunately, the girl was better at reading people than you’d hoped. An absolute shit-eating grin twisted her face and she leaned forward conspiratorially. “Oooh, you dooo!”

“I do not,” you tried again, but you felt your face betray you by warming at her accusation. Dammit, self.

Your denial only served to excite her further. “Oh my god - who is it? Is it someone at school? Someone in your class? Is he hot?”

“Miko!” Jack reprimanded, looking like he was suffering from secondhand embarrassment. He gave her a scandalized glare. “Leave her alone. She said she doesn’t.”

“But she’s blushing!” the girl insisted, gesturing towards your face. You ducked your head on reflex. “You only blush when you’re guilty!”

“It’s because you keep heckling her!” Jack persisted.

“Like you’re one to talk, lover boy!” Miko crooned. “‘Oh, ‘Sierra’ this, ‘Sierra’ that - you’re no better than a girl!” She froze, then nearly gave herself whiplash looking back at you. “Oh! Is it the guy on the track team? I saw him talking to you during lunch the other day!”

“He was asking for my chemistry notes because he couldn’t be bothered to take them himself,” you deadpanned.

“Still! Isn’t that how every high school rom-com starts out? Hot jock asks all-A’s nerd for her notes and they end up plastered over the hood of his car by the end of the movie?”

“Miko!” Jack exclaimed, leaning protectively over Raf, whose cheeks had turned bright red. He looked like he was trying to melt behind the safety of his laptop screen. “Stop that!”

“What?” she demanded. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

You tried to will away the blush saturating your cheeks. “That doesn’t mean you should - just chill, Miko, I don’t have a crush on anyone at school.”

Unfortunately, you seemed to have only shot yourself in the foot. Miko began to vibrate in earnest, and some distant aspect in the back of your mind that had a maternal love for the girl was worried that she would hit a frequency that would make her phase through the loveseat. “So you do have a crush on someone!” she squealed.

“Would you four quiet down?” Ratchet hollered from the computer terminal. “Some of us are trying to retain our hearing, you know!”

“Afraid of losing it, Docbot?” Miko called back, making you choke on your own spit.

“What?”

“Shut up, Miko,” Jack hissed, ducking his head to avoid the fire cast your way by blazing cyan optics. “Just shut up.”

“Sorry!” you called, crossing your toes within your shoes. You hadn’t written your will yet.

Fortunately, Ratchet didn’t seem too particularly inclined to commit homicide that day, and only gave Miko a hard look before returning his attention to his work with a low grumble of what could’ve been Cybertronian.

You looked back at Miko with furrowed brows and pursed lips, scolding her with your eyes. She shrugged with a smug smile.

“Anyway,” you pressed, “I don’t have a crush on anyone right now, and I’d appreciate it if you’d kindly drop the subject.”

“Fine,” she groaned dramatically. “But I will find out who it is eventually.”

You rolled your eyes again at her insistence, deciding to be the bigger person and refocus on your homework. The four of you lapsed into silence for a long while, the scratch of your pencil and the clicking from Raf’s keyboard filling the silence with a familiar ambiance. Jack seemed to be enduring an existential crisis from the horror he’d experienced (despite the fact that he had willingly taken part of it at Miko’s challenge), but you had the bad sense that Miko was plotting because she was being too quiet, even if she had resumed scratching in her sketchpad with a bright pink pencil.

It was never a good thing for Miko to be quiet.

Distantly, you heard the door of the silo crank open, followed by the deep, familiar rumble of the local Prime’s engine. You perked up and peered over the back of the couch, watching him emerge into the hangar and slow to a smooth stop. He transformed, but while you tried to follow all the moving parts, your eyes failed you. You were sure it would never cease to amaze you.

“Hi, Optimus!” Raf called in greeting, catching his attention. As he drew up to his full height, he regarded the four of you with warm optics and that familiar barely-there smile, returning the sentiment. You cast him a small grin before returning to your studies.

“Did you find anything?” you heard Ratchet ask him.

“Unfortunately not,” rumbled the Prime. You counted his footsteps until he stopped (likely near the medic) - five heavy, even thuds of metal on concrete. “The signals I did track only led to small deposits that are still forming. I saved the coordinates for later observation.”

Ratchet hummed, and you heard him drumming his digit tips on the hollow kibble of his forearm. “We’ve got enough to last two weeks, give or take, not accounting for emergencies. I’d advise checking our usual deposits within the next few days.”

“Noted.” There was a long pause. You could swear you felt your ears burning, but it faded almost as soon as you noticed it. “Where are the others?”

“Patrol. They’re trying to put off their bimonthly physicals,” the medic scoffed. “You’re the ever-noble leader - would you care to set a good example?”

Optimus let out a low hum, but you were surprised to notice that he didn’t sound very pleased. If you dared to consider it, it almost sounded as though he was filled with dread. Nevertheless, he responded, “Of course, old friend.”

He must not like doctor’s appointments, either. Relatable.

“I’ve been meaning to check the pneumatics in your shoulders and upper spinal strut,” Ratchet said absently, and you heard him clicking on the computer console. You glanced over your shoulder and saw that he’d moved over to the monitor he used for medical readouts, squinting and noticing that he was bringing up schematics of Optimus’ frame. “Ever since that incident in the last energon mine, I’ve noticed you’re not lifting as much as you usually do.”

“There is a lingering ache,” Optimus acquiesced quietly, as though hesitant to admit it. “Do you suspect there is some damage?”

“Possibly. You weren’t built a weight-lifting frame type by any means - the fact you held nearly the entirety of the cave ceiling up for as long as you did was by a pure miracle. You certainly aren’t Bulkhead.” Ratchet stroked his chin briefly, then pointed to the rotator joints connecting Optimus’ arms to the concave cuffs that housed them. “I suspect you might have strained the cabling, at the least. That would be the easiest to fix. If there’s a tear in the joint itself, I’ll have to patch it and you’ll have to rehabilitate.”

“I don’t feel the damage is that severe,” Optimus responded almost immediately.

Also doesn’t like being under the knife, you observed sympathetically.

Then an idea occurred to you, and you didn’t stop to consider the pros and cons of it before you spoke up.

“Do you mind if I sit and watch?” you called to Ratchet, catching both mechs and the other kids’ attention. “I’ve been meaning to ask you more about Cybertronian physiology, but it kept slipping my mind.”

Almost as soon as Ratchet opened his mouth, probably to refuse your request if you knew him well at all, Optimus’ optics brightened minutely. “Of course.”

“Optimus,” Ratchet started, staring at him askance. “You realize it will be incredibly invasive - I need to check the integrity of your sparkchamber, among other things-”

“You can prioritize around that, can you not?” the Prime inquired evenly. “It wouldn’t hurt for her to observe everything else. She could depart whenever it came to that.” Optimus cast a look at you, pointed and appraising. “Correct?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, catching the medic’s optics. “I’ll leave when you get to the nitty-gritty stuff.”

Ratchet’s mouth worked wordlessly, optics flickering as he gesticulated in half-aborted movements (such a hand-talker, he was). When it was apparent that he wasn’t going to win the argument (if one could even call it that - he’d been in checkmate the moment Optimus had given you his blessing), the medic ex-vented heavily and cast his optics towards the ceiling. “Very well. But only you can observe,” he pressed with a firm look to Miko, “and for the love of Primus don’t distract me with any lead-helmed questions. It takes long enough to perform physicals without an observer.” He paused, then mumbled to himself, “So much for doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“You needn’t fix it if it isn’t broken,” Optimus pointed out, and you spotted the subtle curve on the corner of his mouth.

Ratchet shook his helm, grumbling low in his chassis, and started towards the corridor. He made a beckoning gesture over his pauldron, and Optimus cast you a glance before following. You smiled giddily and set your homework aside, hurrying across the mezzanine and down the stairwell. You thought you might’ve heard one of the kids snickering, but you were too caught up in your excitement to take true notice of it.

“Transformation seams are intact...energon and coolant flow is normal.” Ratchet glanced up from the datapad he’d laid on the berth next to Optimus, peering into the exposed depths and layers of the larger mech’s forearm. “Have you been experiencing any lag in transformation? Any pain?”

“None that I have noticed.”

“Good. The tension cabling is intact...” Ratchet’s digit tip pressed into a divot in the mech’s wrist and the armor cycled shut with a flourish that reminded you of a bird’s feathers smoothing down. He took Optimus’ servo and rotated it slowly, testing different angles at different pressures. “Any trouble with your servos?”

“No.”

Ratchet twisted Optimus’ servo outward and the Prime winced subtly.

“Liar,” he huffed, reaching to the side and picking up the electromagnetic calibrator he’d been using to stimulate irritated or misfiring wiring clusters. He tapped the curved plate covering Optimus’ radiocarpal joint and it opened at his command. He began to go over the exposed cabling, locating the nodes and poking them lightly to see which one was agitated. “If you’d just tell me the truth this would go a lot faster.”

“If it doesn’t pose an issue, I don’t see the need in pointing it out and delaying progress any longer than necessary,” Optimus rumbled. The armor along his shoulders flared sharply as Ratchet finally found the culprit.

“I’ve told you,” Ratchet started, optics flashing, “if you don’t allow me to fix these things, they’ll get worse - then what will you do when your servo malfunctions and you end up a pile of scrap metal in the middle of a fragging warzone?”

Optimus rumbled low in his chassis, optics glowing. You realized with delight that he was borderline chuckling.

Obedient by nature and not wanting to incur the wrath of your already irate host, you were seated across from the two mechs on the other medical berth in Ratchet’s private medical ward. This was where he performed less urgent surgeries and stored all his supplies, tools, and records. The smaller bay in the main hangar was for general inspection and small repairs (and emergencies, if one of the ‘Bots were hurt in the field and needed immediate medical attention), so this was new - not to mention the fact that you were learning so much more about Cybertronian physiology than you would’ve ever thought possible - and just from watching and listening no less.

Ratchet had started out with preliminary scans and basic questions that seemed a little superfluous (but were no less important, you supposed), things like how his armor was fitting his frame and if he had any injuries he’d been keeping from him. He’d then checked the integrity of Optimus’ armor, poking and prodding and flexing the outermost metal to see if there was any damage. He’d found a couple of ruptures and had made quick work of mending them, then had moved on to the few exposed slivers of protoform and secondary armor protecting the lower half of his chassis. Now he was checking Optimus’ arms, starting low and likely headed up to the larger mech’s shoulders.

Watching Optimus and Ratchet interact was a novel experience, as well. Normally they were rather civil, saving face in front of the other three Autobots (for professionalism, you suspected), but in private it was obvious how long they’d been friends. Optimus was much more open than he was normally, even speaking to you with glittering optics and teasing almost smiles. His voice had taken on a different inflection, as well - he didn’t sound as grave and sober as he did around the others, and he seemed much more relaxed in his wording. (You’d wondered if this was Orion Pax talking and not Optimus, but you’d dismissed the thought as silly - he was still the same person, after all. He’d changed over the centuries, certainly, but that obviously hadn’t affected his core being to the point that he couldn’t relax around one of his oldest friends.) He was plainly comfortable with Ratchet, and you were still mystified that, by extension of him inviting you to be present, he was just as comfortable with you.

It still made you warm on the inside just thinking about it.

“I have held up this far, old friend,” Optimus reminded the older mech gently. “I would inform you if there were a dire enough problem along that vein.”

Ratchet muttered under his breath, sounding suspiciously as though he were mocking the Prime with an exaggerated tone, and you giggled quietly. He shot you a look, optics bright and mouth thin, before straightening and leaving Optimus’ radiocarpal joint behind to check his ginglymus. There seemed to be nothing wrong because he merely jotted something down before continuing upward to the Prime’s glenohumeral joint.

Here, Optimus tensed up. You wouldn’t have been able to discern it, normally, but given how long you’d been in close quarters with him by now and being able to read his tells somewhat, you could see the way his optics dimmed and his servos tensed around the edge of the medical berth. You even saw the cabling at his vocalizer flex as though he were swallowing.

Ratchet tapped the armor protecting the joint with his knuckle. “Open up.”

The red metal folded away obediently, the major panels remaining in place for the most part but flaring out, and the smaller pieces tucked themselves into previously unseen nooks and crannies to reveal the mech’s joint. Ratchet hummed low in his chassis, grimacing as he eyed it.

“You did strain it,” he confirmed. Optimus’ finials twitched back slightly. “But the damage isn’t too severe. The leverage you had prevented any substantial damage, but this is a concern that needs to be addressed now, or else it will worsen. I’ll dampen the nodes within and around it before I repair it, though.”

Optimus ex-vented. “Thank you, old friend.”

Ratchet nodded once before stepping away to a small tray of vials that were bigger around than you were tall, grabbing an injector and connecting the two pieces with a mighty click. The fluid within the canister glowed a soft blue, though it was duller than energon. It soon disappeared into the protoform exposed just below Optimus’ ginglymus. The tension in the Prime’s armor seemed to dissipate as the next few moments dragged on, and he looked more at ease when Ratchet picked up a tool you were unfamiliar with before beginning to repair the damage to Optimus’ joint. It didn’t take long, and soon he was checking the opposite side and, upon seeing that there was similar damage, performing the same action.

“I’m putting you on medical leave until your self-repair systems finish this up,” he told the Prime. “No heavy lifting, no heroics, limited patrols. I’m also going to give you medical-grade energon to speed it up.”

Optimus let out a soft ex-vent, but he didn’t argue. “Yes, old friend.”

After that, the rest of the examination didn’t take long. Ratchet checked his other arm, then his legs and pedes for joint erosion. He also took meticulous time checking his helm, which surprised you because you hadn’t thought of how delicately they must’ve been constructed - but studying his audials, optics, and even his intake was an affair that Ratchet took great care to ensure everything was tested. It was when he started to read the larger mech’s chassis with the built-in scanner in his forearm that Ratchet cast you a look and made a shooing motion.

“Observation time’s over,” he said dismissively. “Everything after this is confidential and private.”

You nodded, having already prepared yourself for it - you were surprised that he even let you watch at all, for as long as he had.

“Thanks, guys,” you said, slowly climbing down from the medical berth using small grooves in one of the legs as hand and footholds. “I really appreciate you letting me do this - I learned a lot.”

Ratchet merely gave you a soft hum of acknowledgment, while Optimus regarded you with warm optics.

“If you have any questions,” he rumbled, “I will try my best to answer.”

You grinned up at him, not recalling of any currently but sure you’d have some after you had the chance to think about all that you’d seen. “Thanks, Optimus - really. I know it’s probably a little awkward letting a stranger in on something like this.”

He gave a small shrug with his armor, since his shoulders were still probably numb (or the Cybertronian equivalent, anyway), which surprised you - either he was starting to pick up on human body language more than you’d suspected, or he was just that comfortable with you. Either way, it made you smile. “You are far from a stranger, s’mol’lis. You have shared intimate things about your body in the past - I see it only fair that I return the gesture.”

You felt your face warm with embarrassment at remembering the incident a mere month ago regarding your menstrual cycle, but you were touched that he’d been so considerate - he’d obviously put much more thought into this than you’d thought. But you were more preoccupied with that unfamiliar word than anything else - it was definitely Cybertronian, given the way he’d said it and the multiple layers to the word that made it sound like he was humming a song. You hadn’t heard that one before, though you hadn’t had many chances to hear their mother tongue, to begin with - you wondered what it meant because it’d seemed like he’d been addressing you. 

Ratchet’s vents let out a short chuff-like sound before he made another shooing gesture with his servo, more insistent this time. “Alright, alright, enough. I can’t take all day on this if I have hopes of updating your records by tonight.”

You laughed a little, waggling your fingers at the medic over your shoulder as you turned to the door. “Fine, Ratch, fine - I know when I’m not wanted.”

You heard that same borderline chuckle from before rumble on a frequency that made your ears sing and your belly flip, and by the time you shut the small, human door off to the side of the ‘Bots’, your face was hot. You rubbed your cheeks with some bewilderment, wondering why your face was so hot, but insistent thoughts reminding you that you had homework to finish put your curiosity to the back of your mind - for the time being, at least.

“All right, which one of you hooligans is ready for their physical?”

A unanimous, hushed silence fell over the previously rowdy hangar and you smothered a laugh into your hand, already serving to prop up your head as you tried to finish your homework. All you had left was a section to read in literature and you’d be done. You glanced to the side discreetly, seeing that Bumblebee’s optics were cycled into pinpricks, his doorwings drooping into the lowest position their housing could manage. His shoulders hunched upward as he clutched the makeshift remote controller Raf had jury-rigged for him, and you had the sudden impression that he was hoping he’d magically turn invisible to the medic’s hawk-like eye. You gave him a sympathetic look.

“I, uh…” Bulkhead reset his vocalizer, optics darting to either side as he raised his servos in a shrug. “Sorry, Ratchet, I - I’ve got a patrol to, um…”

“No, you don’t,” the older mech snipped, folding his arms over his chassis and looking wholly unimpressed about his weak attempt to dodge the matter at hand. “I’ve had Optimus clear your schedules for the next cycle or so. We can afford not to patrol while I’m making sure none of you are hiding anything from me.”

“But what about the kids?” questioned Arcee almost immediately after, sounding tense, and that honestly surprised you because she’d always seemed like the type that wouldn’t be bothered by such a thing. Her steely nerves didn’t extend as far as Ratchet’s examination room, apparently. “They’ll need to go home soon.”

“We’re keeping them over the weekend,” Ratchet responded easily, making the younger three look up in surprise.

“Yeah, but - who’ll watch them?” Bulkhead returned anxiously.

The medic huffed and rolled his optics in such a perfect arc that you wondered whether it was preprogrammed or if he’d just had enough practice over the centuries dealing with medically elusive Autobots. “‘But’ nothing. I’ll start with you, Bulkhead, and that’ll be the majority of it done.” He made an impatient gesture towards the corridor. “Optimus didn’t complain, so neither should you. And, if it will placate your concerns, he will watch the children for the evening.” He cast a look toward the mech in question, who had been standing wordlessly behind the main computer terminal until then. “Right, Optimus?”

The Prime turned and blinked, but didn’t look surprised. He merely dipped his helm. “Of course, old friend.”

Ratchet nodded, looking at the other three Autobots with the age-old ‘see?’ expression. The green mech seemed to wilt, his shoulder plating drooping as he turned and trudged towards the corridor like a kicked puppy. You almost felt bad for him. Almost. Ratchet needed to be on top of the others’ condition at all times, so you knew that even if they didn’t like it and would rather not (and even if there wasn’t anything wrong with them), it wouldn’t hurt them to let Ratchet be Ratchet.

Arcee and Bumblebee exchanged an uneasy look, and Ratchet cast a look over his shoulder. “You two are to wait in here until I call for you. Understood?”

They nodded sullenly, and you smothered a laugh. They were supposed to be hundreds of thousands of years old and they still acted like begrudging teenagers.

“So…” Miko stole your attention away, twirling a pink strand of hair around her finger and glancing to either side conspiratorially. “...what’re we going to do now?”

You shrugged. Raf shrugged.

“Not truth or dare,” Jack iterated firmly.

She rolled her eyes at him. “You’ve already ruined the game, there’s no point in doing it anymore.”

Jack had the air of intensity that warned of a strong verbal retaliation bubbling just beneath the surface, eyes rounded and brows furrowed, but he held his tongue when you made a subtle cutting gesture. He sighed.

“We could ask Optimus if we could get KO Burger for supper,” Raf suggested, and you recoiled slightly.

“Or,” you pressed, “we could go to the supermarket and I could cook something decent. You fools need all the nutrition you can get. I’m thinking stew or something.”

Miko made a face. “Since when have you known how to cook?”

You hesitated, then tried for a nonchalant shrug to cover up the way your stomach twisted. “I’ve got to grow up sometime, living on my own. Eating fast food on the regular is not the way to go.”

Miko looked as though she wanted to question you further, but Raf’s eyes lit up and he straightened abruptly. “Oh! What if we went camping?”

You blinked at him, as did Jack. “What?”

“Since the ‘Bots aren’t going to be able to go out for a while,” he said excitedly, “we could ask Optimus if we could groundbridge to Yosemite for the night! They’ve got a small admission fee per person, but it would give him a chance to relax, and we’d get to see the sequoias! Plus, if we found somewhere discreet, he’d be able to transform and enjoy being outside without being seen!”

That...honestly didn’t sound too bad. Optimus had seemed a bit wearier than usual lately, and you figured he’d enjoy a breath of fresh air out of the base. The only problem would be convincing him.

“That sounds great, Raf,” you said with a warm smile, “but I’m not sure he’d agree.”

“Isn’t that what we have you for?” Miko remarked snidely, eyes glittering.

You stared, ignoring how your ears warmed. “I...guess? What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on,” she groaned dramatically, and you cast an anxious glance over your shoulder. Optimus seemed occupied with his work on the computer terminal, and ‘Bee and Arcee were talking in low tones in the open medical wing of the hangar. Fortunately, no one was paying attention to you. “You’ve got all thirty feet of him wrapped around your pinky! If any of us could convince him to take a day off, it’d be you.”

You remembered how he’d taken care of you when you’d last been inflicted by your cycle (as embarrassed as you were to recall the memory). You remembered the ease with which he’d invited you to accompany him on low-risk patrols and energon scoutings. You remembered when he’d saved your life in the cave. He never treated any of the Autobots like that - he was kind, sure, considerate, and cared for their safety, but it felt...different, the way he’d seek you out to spend some time away from everyone else. You’d always figured he just tolerated your incessant curiosity, but...you hadn’t really considered anything beyond that. Could his motivation be that he simply enjoyed your company? You found the concept flattering, if unlikely.

You powered through the last of the literature passage, chewing on the inside of your lip before closing the book and tucking it back into your school bag. You stood and moved over to the steps, descending silently and walking towards the Prime on the other side of the hangar. When you got close enough, you patted his pede and leaned against him. “Hey, Optimus?”

The Prime leaned over just enough to peer down at you over the top of his chassis, an optical ridge rising. He hummed inquisitively.

“Since the others are going to be caught up in this for a while,” you gestured towards the other two ‘Bots sulking in the corner, “Raf had a thought.”

“And that would be?” Optimus rumbled curiously.

“Could we go camping at Yosemite?” you asked. You paused, but when his brow lowered once again you went on hurriedly, “It would just be for tonight, and since it’s the middle of the school year a lot of people probably won’t be there if you wanted to stretch your legs. We’d get to see giant trees.” You hesitated. “It’d be educational.”

Optimus regarded you for a long moment, his optics shuttering as he thought it over.

“We could come back if you got any signals from Decepticons,” you added. “But I thought you could use a break, even if it’s only one night. You seem like you’re tired.”

The Prime’s optics dimmed a little, and he ex-vented slowly. “Is this ‘Yosemite’ a state landmark?”

“It’s a national park,” you told him, hope sparking to life in your belly. You tried not to seem too excited at tiding him over. “Over in California. I figured taking the groundbridge would be the easiest method - there’s a fee for entry, but we’d be able to set up away from the other campsites if we’re discreet about it.”

He hummed quietly, contemplatively. “I should ensure with Ratchet that someone would be available to activate the groundbridge should you need it, but...I don’t see why taking an evening for the sake of education would be a detriment.”

Bingo. You’d been positive that would snag him.

You smiled, suddenly giddy - you hugged what you could reach and flashed him a bright, thankful look. “Thank you, Optimus - the kids will love this.”

The mech surprised you with the crinkling of his optics and the lifting of the corners of his mouth. “I am unaware of the requirements of camping, but I am sure Bulkhead or Bumblebee would be willing to take you, should you desire. I see no harm in it.”

Your shoulders dropped, and you tried not to look disappointed. You didn’t want to have your hopes dashed so easily. “You...you don’t want to take us?”

Optimus glanced at the screen before him. “I have much work to do. Bulkhead’s physical should not take long, and he’s the most capable of the three to…”

“But you’ve already finished yours,” you pointed out gently, not wanting to come across as argumentative. He returned his gaze to you, attentive. “And your altmode has more room. Besides...haven’t you heard what I said about taking a break at all? You’ve been working nonstop lately, and...well. Even you aren’t indestructible.”

Optimus regarded you for a long moment, but it didn’t look as though he was actually focusing on you - his optics had a far-away look, a million-mile stare that you didn’t dare interrupt. They shuttered some more, his mouth thin. Your left hand, still lingering on the brace plate on his pede, tensed subconsciously, and it seemed to draw him out of his thoughts. He ex-vented and dipped his helm, an odd half-smile playing at the edges of his mouth and optics.

“Very well,” he submitted, and you realized with a start that his expression was fond. “You raise a very compelling argument, s’mol’lis.”

Too distracted to feel the full throttle of embarrassment at having that look directed at you of all people, you grinned a little wider. “I have a good feeling that you’ll love it there, Optimus - they’ve got these massive trees that’re five times bigger than you are.”

His optical ridges inched upward in clear surprise. He looked immediately curious. “Oh?”

“They’re called sequoias, or redwoods,” you told him. “They’ve been growing there for a very, very long time - scientists speculate since ancient times. The biggest one is about thirty-six feet around and over two hundred and seventy-five feet tall.” You chuckled a little. “The people who found it called it ‘General Sherman’, and it’s the biggest tree recorded on the planet.”

He stared, seeming uncharacteristically shocked. “I...was not aware that earth housed such large flora.”

You grinned, hopeful. “I’m sure you’ll get to see it.”

Optimus hesitated, then dipped his helm. “...I look forward to it.” He glanced over to the kids, the groundbridge controls past them, then back over his shoulders towards the corridor. “Allow the children time to pack what they need,” he told you, “and I will speak with Ratchet over comms to establish the plan.”

You gave him a double thumbs-up, smiling brightly up at him and backing up to give him room. “Will do, Chief - thank you, again!”

He said nothing more as you turned and trotted back over to the stairwell, already telling the troublesome trio that the green light had been issued, but the warmth in your face lingering from the fact that he hadn’t referred to you as a child was making your stomach do flips you were sure weren’t good for your health. Fortunately, you missed the soft look with which Optimus had followed your path - but you weren’t fortunate enough to miss the smug grin on Miko’s face behind the can of soda she was taking a sizeable swig from.

“Are we there yet?”

You dug your fingertips into your eyes and gritted your teeth, ignoring the urge to throttle yourself against the window you’d been trying to merge with molecularly for the past thirty minutes. “For the fifteenth time, Miko,” you murmured as gently as you were capable of, “we are not there yet. We had to groundbridge far enough out that other people wouldn’t see it or question why a semi is pulling onto the road in the middle of the woods.”

“But did it have to be this far out?” she groaned, dropping her head against the headrest in the back seat dramatically.

“Unfortunately so, Miko,” rumbled Optimus over the radio, effectively silencing her complaining with rounded eyes and a sheepish expression at the indirectly aimed paternal note his voice had taken on. “But it is better safe than sorry to merge as best as we can with our surroundings.”

She mumbled indistinctly under her breath, folding her arms over her chest and pulling her legs onto the seat to curl up against the siding. Raf glanced uncomfortably between the two of you, one of his earbuds removed and obviously not unaware of the exchange. He said your name hesitantly, and you felt the tension uncoil within you instantly. “...do you think we’ll get pulled over if you’re driving? It’s not really normal for an eighteen year-old to drive a semi.”

You stilled, fingers dropping to drape over your lips as you glanced at the radio’s screen. It flickered softly in response.

“Worry not, Rafael,” came the Prime’s rather cryptic answer. “I have a plan.”

You met Raf’s questioning gaze in the rearview mirror, and you offered him a bewildered look and a shrug in return, before looking back out the window at the passing scenery. The trees were already big, bigger than anything you’d ever seen in Nevada, but you couldn’t help but feel the anticipation build for the potential of getting to see the famed redwoods you’d heard so much about over the years in school.

Jack shifted in the passenger seat, chin propped up on his fist as his fingers drummed on his leg. He glanced over at you, chewing on his lip, then looked at the radio, too. “Hey, um...Optimus?”

The engine rumbled in an attentive hum.

“Do you mind if I, uh...channel surf? It’s kind of quiet in here.”

A pause. Then, the cab of the truck shifted upwards and downwards just enough to allude to a shrug - the others must’ve missed the minute movement, or taken it as a bump in the road, but you smothered a smile in your palm and wondered at how easily you’d grown to be able to read him so well. (Not that you were able to read him clearly all the time, but you were proud of what you could manage. It seemed that what you could perceive of him was always whatever he wanted you to perceive.) “I would not mind that at all, Jack. Please be mindful of anything...obtrusive, however.”

“No heavy metal. Got it.” Jack grinned when Miko let out a cry of indignation, reaching over to fiddle with the dial on his side. He passed over the top forty stations because of the high ratio for suggestive themes, skipped intense rock at Optimus’ gentle declination, and finally settled on an old country station that had Miko grumbling and curling her hands over her ears in frustration. You began to hum along with some familiar songs, and it helped to kill the time it took to finally reach the entrance of the park. When he rounded the bend and the check-in station appeared about half of a mile out, you felt the mech shift on his axles subtly, murmuring your name. “...I would ask that you move into Jack’s seat - and Jack, please move into the back with Rafael and Miko.”

You exchanged a curious glance with the teen but did as the Prime bade nonetheless, buckling yourself in and opening your mouth to question him. You did a double take when the air around you seemed to crackle with static, and a holographic image of what resembled nerve impulses slowly solidified and took on the shape of a man. Your breath caught when it finally stopped, the image of a stranger grasping the steering wheel despite having no need to do so. The kids were speechless.

“Optimus?” you breathed, and the image of the man tilted his head to look at you. The stratospheric blue of his eyes made your heart flip.

“I’m sure you are familiar with the holomatter avatar that Arcee utilizes due to the nature of her alt-mode,” he began to explain - his voice lacked the familiar electronic hum behind it, fully originating from the avatar’s mouth instead of the radio system. It was strange, but...not that bad, if you had to be honest with yourself. “Jack, in the least. You mentioned that there would be a need for an adult representative for this trip to not elicit suspicion.”

You nodded, dumbfounded. Miko leaned between the front seats, peering at him with awed and critical eyes. Her nose wrinkled after a moment. “How are you powering this and driving at the same time? You’re moving around and stuff - ‘Cee’s doesn’t do that.”

You had to agree. You’d...never really given this concept any thought before, not having encountered it in conversation or a situation where he’d needed it. You’d only seen Arcee’s in passing, and it never seemed as though she used it to embody her awareness like Optimus was doing - just a frozen image to throw off suspicion if nothing else.

“In order to remain fully aware of her frame, Arcee uses a simplified avatar that doesn’t require her to split her consciousness or expend as much energon.” Optimus returned his eyes to the road, more for appearances than anything, you suspected. “But generally when a Cybertronian has his or her avatar activated, their frame is put into stasis to reduce disorientation and energon consumption and their processor shifts into the avatar.”

“So are you actually driving?” Jack asked, sounding a little wary.

“I will maintain enough mental function until we arrive at our destination,” the Prime rumbled, and even though he was reduced to a smaller being his voice still filled the cab and made your ribcage vibrate. You decided then that he could read from the phonebook and it wouldn’t bore you in the slightest. “What will happen after that remains to be seen.”

He eased to a stop behind a line of three other vehicles, his brakes hissing and engine grumbling as he idled. He gestured that Miko return to her seat and leaned over, burly arm reaching for the glove compartment. You admired his impossibly broad hand, large and long-fingered like someone who would play the piano or the cello, but you noticed a number of faint scars littering his knuckles, faint strips of lighter skin that puckered against the rest of his dark tan. The compartment popped open and revealed a zipped canvas bag, which he pulled into his lap. He fished out a worn leather wallet with numerous cards poking out of it, including a driver's license, and when he pried it open there were at least ten crisp twenties tucked inside.

“Optimus…?” you repeated.

He glanced over, quirking a thick, black brow, before following your line of sight. He dipped his head. “Agent Fowler requires that we carry a means of identification with us at all times, should we need it when encountering other humans. It is falsified, of course, seeing as we are not proper citizens of your country, but he constructed records for us if someone were to pry that deeply.”

“Ooh, cool!” Miko crooned with a wicked smile. “Like a secret agent!”

“I suppose,” Optimus agreed, a faint glimmer of a smile in his eyes. There were crow’s feet there, and if you looked hard enough you could see laugh lines around his mouth as he spoke. You wondered idly if he had dimples as he continued, “We are also given a biannual salary of sorts to compensate for our residence here in case we require anything. Most of it goes into Ratchet’s necessity for more machinery and raw materials, but we also carry some on our person; especially now that we have the four of you to consider - for emergencies, should you need anything.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised, because it made sense - but it still touched you at how considerate the underlying sentiment was.

The cars ahead of him began to ease up, and he followed suit.

Jack shifted uncomfortably, stuck in the narrow middle seat between both younger kids. “So, are you, uh… solid, or…?”

Optimus held up the wallet, an obviously tangible object, in lieu of an answer. Jack nodded.

Miko gasped in delight, leaning forward again and poking at his arm avidly. She met solid matter, the leather of his jacket giving and the simulated flesh underneath seeming to appease her inspection. She eyed him up and down again, appraising. She returned, once more, to her seat. “Please don’t tell me that’s a Nashville shirt, Bossbot.”

He cast you a glance, inquisitive. You shrugged. “You can wear what you want to. You seem more like a Nashville guy than LA or Hollywood, anyway.”

The cars shifted again, and Optimus was then next in line.

You chewed on your lip briefly, debating whether to bother him with more questions. He seemed to notice it, as he returned his gaze to you. You bit the bullet. “So, is this…” You gestured at the avatar as a whole. “...all, uh...preprogrammed?”

“The basic template that is generated is a human male at its core, at least for this planet,” he said smoothly, unbothered. You exhaled softly. “From there we incorporate our own preferences and ideas into how we should like to appear. We make modifications and adjustments as we go to suit our personal needs and tastes.” He scratched absently at the faint patches of stubble on his chin that matched the shape of the accent framing on his faceplate. “I will admit that Agent Fowler assisted us a great deal to make our avatars seem more realistic.”

‘Realistic’ wouldn’t be the only word you would associate with the form of a man sitting less than a foot away from you with the most muscular thighs you’d ever seen in your life trapped in taught, dark denim, but you weren’t about to go down that rabbit hole. Instead, you offered him a smile. “I think it suits you just fine.”

He met your eyes with his, warm with something like flattery. (At least you hoped that it was flattery.)

“Is that what they’re used for?” Raf asked. When the Prime turned his head to look at him, he elaborated, “To help blend in with other races?”

This almost pulled a smile from him, as you saw the laugh lines pull back into his cheeks. You looked out of the windshield pointedly, face warming. Dimples there certainly were.

“That is precisely correct, Rafael,” Optimus praised. “They were first invented during Cybertron’s golden era, when we explored the vast cosmos with little abandon. They were utilized to observe cultures that were primitive or had yet to achieve space-flight capability and thus had no exposure to alien life. It became a prerequisite to include them in cold-constructed frames like Bumblebee, and for those of us who were forged, we had them implanted. That didn’t happen until the war began, however, seeing as none of us knew where we would end up should Cybertron fall.” The final car ahead of him pulled forward, and he began to creep up to the check-in station where a guard stood. His voice was quieter when he added, “I am glad that we had the foresight to do so.”

The window rolled down of its own volition when the guard listlessly gestured for him to do so. He glanced up, disinterested as he jotted something on his clipboard. Probably a vehicle description. “ID, please.”

Optimus handed him the wallet, and the man eyed it for a moment. “Date of birth.”

The Prime blinked, but the hesitation wasn’t abnormal. “September seventeenth, 1974.”

The guard raised an eyebrow. “‘Orion Paxton’?”

“My parents were rather fond of astronomy,” he replied smoothly. You smothered your smile with your hand.

“Ah.” The guard returned the ID back to him. “How many have you got occupying the vehicle?”

“Five, including myself.”

“Minors?”

“Three, and one independent.”

“School kids?”

“Yes.”

The guard, only able to spy you from his lowered position, raised a brow. “It’s a bit early for spring break, isn’t it?”

“They participate in an extracurricular program involving the outdoors,” Optimus told him smoothly. You figured he’d been thinking about it. “I am their chaperone.”

The man’s eyes narrowed just a touch. “Are you related to any of them?”

Optimus glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “This is my daughter.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from visibly startling, offering the man a small smile and a wave. You heard Miko snicker in the back seat, and your stomach flopped with embarrassment. You hoped your flush wasn’t too obvious.

The Prime nodded, satisfied with your seamlessness. “The others are her schoolmates. Family friends.”

The guard looked at you, eyes skimming your appearance. “May I see your ID, miss?”

You blinked, reached for your wallet, and pulled out your driver’s license. Optimus passed it over to the man. You noticed the name on his badge was Harrison.

He glanced between the two of you for a moment, seeming to contemplate his next words. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it and shook his head, then gestured at the woman manning the tiny station behind him. The gate opened. “That’ll be thirty dollars.”

Optimus handed him two twenties, and when Harrison made to give him his ten dollars of change the Prime merely waved him off. “Do not trouble yourself. Consider it a donation.”

The man dipped his head, seeming unsurprised by the notion, and Optimus pulled forward to cruise through the entryway. The forest was thicker, the trunks bigger, and the longer he drove the more they seemed to expand. It looked like something straight out of a fantasy novel, the canopy of sun-dappled leaves shading your eyes like a mantle - you could only imagine what it’d be like to climb one of them, to see the landscape stretching out in all directions. It’d be breathtaking, you knew that for sure.

Fortunately, the gradual change of scenery seemed to distract Miko from her evident boredom, and all three of them were leaning up around the front seats to peer out the windows. Optimus’ eyes were focused on the outside as well, but his hand on the lower arc of the steering wheel was steady. You tried not to look at him more than necessary, only stealing glances on the few occasions he’d shift in his seat and braced his forearm on the lip of the window. 

You had to admit that he couldn’t have curated a more befitting holoform if he had tried, and the ensemble of his outside certainly lent to its credibility. He was dressed plainly in worn jeans, a simple leather belt and buckle, an old, charcoal gray and white Nashville t-shirt under a maroon and navy plaid flannel shirt, topped off with a caramel-toned leather jacket that looked as plush and comfortable as it did genuine. Proportionally, he was a mirrored image of his real frame - broad shoulders, a barrel-like chest, impossibly long legs that you were surprised he hadn’t adjusted his seat to accommodate, hands that would likely swallow your head if he held it between his palms. His tawny skin was littered with pale scars in places (what little you could see of it, anyway), a five o’clock shadow lining his jaw and throat, and his hair and thick eyebrows were an inky raven black that glimmered like onyx in the sunshine, cut similarly to marine veterans you’d seen in passing. That was likely the effect he’d gone for, perhaps to help explain his militaristic behaviors and mannerisms between the lines if anyone bothered to read into them that closely. Buzzed on the sides but longer and combed back on the top to form a quiff, you wondered at how the contrasting textures must feel. You wondered if it felt silky or downy or coarse. Soft, probably, since there wasn’t any illusion of product to hold it in place.

But his eyes, most of all, stuck out to you. Against his skin, the startling cornflower blue of his irises popped like daisies in the dark. They didn’t glow like his real optics did, but they looked like they could - focused and analytical and expressive and pretty…

“...think that this would be a suitable path to take?”

Your eyes fell to his lips, unbidden. There was an indication of a barely-there scar at the left corner of his mouth, his upper lip a little thin but the bottom pillowy and full despite appearing chapped. The level of detail was astounding to you.

Your face caught fire when you realized you’d been staring.

“Oh, um - yeah,” you said, hastily looking out from the windshield to a worn trail leading off the main road. The tire marks were obvious, blazed through the brush. “The further away from any prying eyes, the better.”

He nodded and turned onto the barely beaten path. You rubbed your face, hoping it hadn’t been too obvious. The kids were too enamored with watching the landscape go by to have noticed. (Hopefully.) You forced yourself not to look at him, trying not to think about the faint, fawn-like freckles you’d sworn you’d seen speckled over the bridge of his noble, Grecian nose.

Within ten minutes, he’d driven out to the limits of the trail to find a small gravel parking lot that likely would’ve held no more than six small vehicles, three large ones at best. It was lined with logs, and there were RV hookups on one side and metal fire pits and benches for tent campers on the other. Fortunately, it was empty. He turned to look at you inquisitively. “What do you think?”

You worried your lip for a moment. “You’re the boss. What do you think?”

The corner of his mouth quirked upward, tugging on that little scar. “This is your expedition,” he reminded you. “Whatever you think is best, I will do.”

“Okay,” you said, trying not to feel overwhelmed. This was such a simple, silly thing, yet having him put you in control made you feel...powerful, in a way. Humbled, definitely. He was a Prime, and he was deferring to you? “Um...I don’t want you to have to be cramped up in your altmode all day, so maybe we could go offroad and find somewhere more secluded? Then you could stretch your legs if you wanted to.”

Optimus nodded, and without warning his holoform fizzled from the cab. His voice returned to the radio. “If you would all gather your things; it would be easier to traverse the forest out of…”

You grabbed your backpack from the floorboard, slinging it over your shoulder and slipping out of the passenger seat when he opened the door for you. The kids clambered out soon after, and Optimus’ altmode shuddered and morphed before he transformed. You craned your neck back to peer up at him, smiling helplessly. Despite being so big, he hardly compared to the trees looming over all of you - he seemed just as mesmerized by that fact, peering up into the heavily leaved boughs forming a sort of ceiling over you. The sun was setting rapidly, the golden hour at its peak, and his armor glimmered like precious metal. You were so very glad that no one else was around.

Raf fumbled with his pack, almost as big as he was, and drew out a map he’d printed of the park. He studied it for a moment, then his eyes lit up and he pointed to a spot on the west side. “We’re here. If we go that way-” He pointed east. “We could see one of the mountains around here; maybe we could camp there. General Sherman’s nearby, too.”

Everyone nodded, and Optimus knelt down and offered his hand. “I would like to have the campsite set up before dark falls,” he admitted. “We can make more ground this way.”

Jack and Raf climbed up onto his palm obediently, and Miko cocked a brow at him with good humor. “Are you calling us short, Bossbot?”

Optimus returned the jest in equally good humor. “My legs are a little longer than yours, young Miko. I do not wish to leave any of you behind.”

You snorted, settled against the arch of his thumb, and held on once you were all settled. He raised you carefully to cradle you against his chest plating, his windshields reflecting the sights around you like a television screen - and, just like that, you were off. Optimus consulted Raf as he went, ensuring that he was headed in the right direction. He had ample room to maneuver most of the time, listening as the excited boy rattled off facts about the valley being discovered and the landmarks therein. You listened, quite content, watching the trees slide by. The bushes and shrubs seemed so far below you, and you were suddenly grateful that heights didn’t bother you as much as they used to - you’d grown used to being so far above solid ground, soothed by Optimus and the others’ ease of keeping you safe and promising never to allow you to fall.

Time passed, with little lapses of silence in between. The kids were chattering amongst themselves, pointing out deer frolicking away or birds startled by the gentle giant wandering through their home. There were little creeks here and there, boulders he had to be careful not to trip over, and you watched Optimus’ composed mask fade with every careful, measured step. You’d never seen him look so at ease, optics soft and expression serene as he witnessed your home’s beauty at its finest. You felt a silly surge of pride at the thought, happy that he was finding delight in the planet he and his comrades were otherwise trapped on.

Miko and Raf gasped at once, peering between the Prime’s carefully curled digits. You looked, and your breath caught.

“That,” Jack said, “is one big tree.”

And big it was.

Bigger than anything you’d seen in your life, bigger than the Autobots, there General Sherman stood, straight and strong and rigid amongst the rest of his kindred. Optimus’ pace slowed, and when you glanced up at him you were softened by the sincere wonder making his mouth drop open just so, his optics rounded and shuttering and glowing brilliantly.

“I...did not anticipate…” he began, voice startlingly quiet.

You couldn’t help but concur. “I wonder how old it is…?”

Raf was buzzing with anticipation, scooting to dangle his legs off the blade of Optimus’ servo. He pointed at the roots taller and wider than vehicles sloping up over the earth and disappearing back into it. “You could fit a car in them!”

Optimus approached the ancient sentinel slowly, reverently, placing his free servo flat over the bark. “There was never anything like this on Cybertron that I witnessed,” he murmured, half to himself. He looked up into the crown of branches far over his helm that just seemed to stretch on forever. “I never thought that earth would hold such treasures.”

“Wait ‘til we tell you about Mount Everest,” you muttered absently, watching his digits twitch, studying the texture beneath his touch.

Optimus seemed adamant to walk the circumference of the old redwood, stepping over roots and studying the knots and scores and old wounds the tree had endured. He was utterly enthralled, and it was the most endearing thing you’d ever seen.

Within seconds, it seemed, the sun had fallen below the horizon somewhere hidden by the forest. Optimus seemed reluctant to leave the old titan but knew it would be for the best, lest a random park ranger stumble upon the lot of you.

He headed further into the park, gradually ascending, weaving and picking his way along with care, and soon the trees began to thin out a bit to reveal a valley lined with cliffs and hills and smaller trees. A mountain loomed in the distance, still pinkened by the retreating sunset, and he set to work crossing the river that flowed through the middle of it to find a place to settle for the night. By a pure stroke of luck, he found a hollowed alcove that he could sit comfortably under, shaded from view from most angles, with boulders fallen from the cliffside to provide even more shelter. He managed to scoop away some rocks to make the ground more even, and while he sat and settled against the rockface, the four of you set to work.

Jack shared his limited, fuzzy experience of being a boy scout for a couple of years, and delegated a task to each of you. He would handle the firepit, Miko would get a bucket of water from the stream, Raf would get the food they’d packed, and you’d get firewood. Optimus kept a watchful eye over the lot of you, scanning the edge of the valley for any signs of unwanted observers, and you felt comfortable leaving the kids with him while you looked for more fuel.

You didn’t have to go very far, thankfully. There were clusters of trees scattered around, not huge, but big enough that they’d shed some branches and bark over time. You gathered an armful of both, grabbed a handful of dried leaves for kindling, and shuffled your way back up the hillside. You heard laughter before you crested the crumbling shale, and saw that Miko had flicked water at Jack. He was doing his best to be the bigger person, schooling his scowl and ignoring how his hair dripped into his eyes as he set up the border stones and dug out the pit with a small trowel. He seemed grateful for your return, and you flashed him a smile as you set down your supply and went about arranging it for optimal burning. You opted for a log house style, dropping the leaves and needles into the middle before delicately covering them with smaller twigs and sticks while still giving them room to breathe. Jack slipped his hand through the gap with his lighter, flicking it on and coaxing the fire to life. All of the wood was dry so it took to flame easily, crackling and smoldering before beginning to glow and snap in earnest.

Optimus, hands settled comfortably over his lap, watched with dimmed optics, a gentle expression on his faceplate. When Miko began to needle Jack about supper, he diverted her attention by asking her about school. She took the bait unwittingly, griping about her teachers, drawing Raf and Jack into a debate about how terrible their last history test had been, and you shook your head fondly as you set about opening up the package of orzo you’d snuck in. You set up the simple wire grill as they talked, setting out a small pot and filling it with a bottle of drinking water to boil before beginning to cook the pasta.

The night grew darker, and Optimus’ pale blue biolights shimmered against the orange glow and dark shadows cast by the campfire. He looked quite at home, settled against the stone, fans humming quietly as a breeze flooded the valley with a gentle chill. You shivered, tugging your sleeves down your arms as you stirred, glancing at the sky. You frowned when you noticed a swell of clouds to the right of the valley, but opted to dismiss it. You’d checked the weather report for the area while packing, and it had said there was only a twenty percent chance of rain.

It’d be fine.

“Why didn’t you just cook rice if you wanted rice?”

“It’s not rice, Miko, it’s orzo.”

“But it’s obviously supposed to look like rice!”

“I doubt the ancient Italians had ready access to rice. Maybe they just liked the shape, since it’s simple.”

“Copycats,” the girl grumbled, shoving another spoonful into her mouth and chewing sullenly.

You’d opted for a rather simple dish, stewing the orzo in a bit of canned cream once you’d strained it and adding cheese and a can of stewed tomatoes to make it pop. Salt, black pepper, and cayenne had made it quite good, in your humble opinion.

The kids seemed to agree if how they were already finished with their second bowls was any indication.

They’d already sent brief texts to their parents and guardians, and Optimus had informed you that Ratchet had checked in to ensure nothing disastrous had happened. June had insisted that Jack talk to her over a call, so he’d paced the edge of the firelight for a good ten minutes before managing to reassure her that you were all fine. You’d settled back against Optimus’ pede, sitting on your sleeping bag, curled up in the light jacket you’d brought just in case. Your bowl was warming your lap, half empty, and you sipped idly from your bottle of water.

The clouds had drawn closer over time, covering up most of the stars, though you could still pick out a couple in the gaps of hazy black. Moonbeams poured into the valley through those patches, and the sound of crickets and the distant cacophony of nocturnal animals gave the place a sense of enchantment you hoped you wouldn’t disturb.

You wouldn’t. But nature herself would.

“Hey!”

You looked at Miko, who was scrubbing her cheek with a curled lip. “What? Mosquitoes?”

“Rain!” she exclaimed, just as a fat, cold droplet smacked the side of your neck and made you shudder on impact.

Gooseflesh rose under your clothes, and then you heard it - the hiss of rain beginning to fall on the grass not far from you.

You cursed under your breath.

The four of you had seconds to scramble for your things, dragging your bedrolls under the canopy of rock and hastily putting away the trash, dishes, and food accumulated on the ground. Optimus looked like he wanted to help, but because he didn’t want to risk hurting any of you with sudden movements, all he could do was shield you as best as he could with his extended servos.

The skies opened up, and rain began to flood the valley in earnest.

You hissed at the others to get close to the Prime where it was sheltered, fumbling and grabbing their packs. They scrambled to get close, clustered near his knees, and you stumbled over a rock before managing to get into safety.

You all stared at each other, soaked to the bone, and began to giggle madly.

“Our luck, huh?” you wheezed, doing your best to wring out your hair and tie it into a damp bun. Poor Raf was doing his best to dry his glasses, and Jack watched, crestfallen, as the rain smothered his campfire.

“I thought you said it wasn’t going to rain!” Miko claimed, shivering and pulling her jacket from her backpack with a scowl.

“It was unlikely,” you said, shrugging, just glad you’d been able to cook a hot meal before the weather had struck. You glanced out, watching as water began to soak every inch of the earth stretched out before you. You scratched your head. “Don’t know how we’re gonna manage to all spread out without getting wet, though.”

“Allow me.”

Optimus shifted, pulled his legs up, and the four of you tried to make room for him. He transformed, leaving much more room in the alcove, but he surprised you by opening his doors. “The wind might blow in the rain.”

“But...all night?” you questioned.

“I have spent longer in my altmode,” he soothed. You heard the telltale click of his heater kicking on. “I do not wish for any of you to catch ill.”

You’d brought a hand towel, luckily, and you had them pat themselves mostly dry before grabbing their sleeping supplies and climbing up into Optimus’ cab. The last thing you wanted was to get all his interior wet - you hated to think about it getting moldy or smelling bad.

You settled into the driver’s seat, sliding it back to give yourself a little more room to curl up with your back against the door. The kids were already quite content in their blankets and leaning close to the vents scattered throughout the cab. You wondered briefly about smothering without fresh air, but you noticed that Optimus had rolled his windows down just a fraction. You hid a smile as you pulled the hood of your jacket over your head, resting your temple against the shoulder of the seat.

“What now?” Miko questioned, drawing all of your attention. She snapped her phone shut with a dramatic sigh. “I don’t have any service out here, and it’s too early to go to bed.”

“We could play a game,” Raf suggested.

“Not truth or dare,” Jack reiterated firmly.

“We know.” Miko retorted.

“Why don’t we tell campfire stories?” you proposed, trying to redirect around the inevitable argument that would crop up from shortened tempers if you didn’t intervene.

“In case you didn’t notice, the rain ruined the main thing required for that,” Miko said flatly.

“We don’t have to have the ambient lighting,” you replied, brows furrowing, but the radio screen flared to life once more.

“I believe I may be of some assistance,” Optimus said smoothly. You watched, dumbfounded, as the biolights littering the interior of his cab shifted hues into a warm, flickering range of amber to gold - just like the flames left to smolder in the onslaught outside. To add to the effect, the sound of crackling wood and chirping crickets piped through the speakers. “Is this acceptable?”

“More than!” Miko crowed, grinning wickedly in the dim lighting. “Thanks, Bossbot!”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Raf wondered out loud, thoroughly mesmerized.

Optimus rumbled that same almost chuckle, though it could easily have been passed for his engine under the hum of the heaters clicking down into a lower setting. “I am afraid that there are quite a few things, Rafael, that I am unable to do.”

“Who wants to go first?” asked Jack, tugging his blanket over his torso and settling into the passenger seat. His eyes were already half-lidded.

“Me, me!” Miko exclaimed. “Maybe it’s not a campfire story like you’re used to, but I know a few old legends about Japanese demons that’ll make your skin crawl right off your body!”

Poor Raf already looked spooked. “Please just don’t make them too scary. I’d really like to be able to sleep, you know.”

“Why don’t I start?” you tried. “It’s just a story I heard from someone at school, and it’s not too bad - just a little spooky.”

Miko folded her arms over her chest but didn’t argue, and you smiled as the kids settled their eyes on you. “Okay, so there once was an old lumberyard a few miles from any nearby town that could only be accessed by train and trolley. They had those massive log-splitting saws that would never fly with today’s safety laws - and for good reason. There was one man that worked there who was huge - seven feet tall, just as big as a grizzly bear - who always kept a bag of sunflower seeds in the front pocket of his overalls and chewed them throughout the day.”

Miko faked a rather obvious yawn, but the boys shushed her immediately. Just as Optimus had forewarned, the wind began to blow the rain into the alcove, drumming against his windshield in a fierce spray that only enhanced the background noise.

“One day,” you continued patiently, “this man’s ankle got caught up in one of the logging chains they would attach to draft horses’ harnesses to drag the logs to the saw. In a freak accident, the man was pulled through the saw, and both of his legs were sheered right off his body like butter. The other workers couldn’t do anything to save him, so he bled out in seconds.”

Raf sucked in a breath, and Jack’s eyes rounded. Even Miko was staring more attentively.

“Some have said,” you concluded, “that they have found sunflower seed shells chewed up on the ground around their campsites, as well as furrows in the ground from this man dragging himself through the dirt with his bare hands. A few have sworn that they could hear him groaning in the middle of the night, begging for the other lumberyard workers to help him find his legs, and that you can still hear the saws roaring deep in the woods-”

All three kids squealed when a deep, juddering groan filled the cabin. You jumped, glancing around, heart pounding at the unexpected sound.

“My apologies,” Optimus rumbled, and were you imagining things, or…did he sound smug? “The wiper blades must be dry. We do not often see rain in Jasper.”

Did he…? There’s no way. You covered your mouth, trying your best to withhold your laughter. Maybe the Prime had a sense of humor after all. “That’s the end of the story anyway,” you concluded, clearing your throat. “Go ahead, Miko.”

“Great!” She leaned forward, waggling her fingers with anticipation. “Now, it all started with…”

The worst of the storm had passed by the time the kids finally grew too drowsy to exchange stories anymore (which had quickly devolved from spooky ones to personal experiences, particularly gossip, which you had noted with some amusement), leaving a lazy drizzle just outside the alcove. The clouds had thinned just enough to allow enough ambient lighting from the moon above them to cast the valley in a gloomy hue, but the sound was soothing (living in a desert certainly had its detriments, as you loved the rain dearly, but that’s what you had modern technology for anyway) - enough so that the kids were fast asleep and snoring in their respective seats, curled up in their blankets like chrysalises. Optimus’ biolights had long since dimmed, and his silence suggested that he likely had drifted into stasis likewise - but you couldn’t convince yourself to do the same.

You smothered a yawn and reached down into your open backpack on the floorboard, drawing out a book you’d borrowed from the library. You squinted, even tried holding the bookmarked page up to one of Optimus’ biolights, but even that couldn’t illuminate the words enough for you to read. Flashlight it was, then.

You fished the pocket light out of the side pocket and, as quietly and gingerly as you could manage, cracked open the door to slip down the step onto the wet gravel below before pressing it shut again. The last thing you wanted was to disturb any of them - especially Optimus - so you hoped he was deep enough in stasis that he wouldn’t notice the movement.

One of the folding stools Jack had brought was damp but didn’t soak your pants through when you sat against the rock wall, clicking on the miniature flashlight and highlighting the page.

Much better. You glanced up at the cab and its windows but saw no movement to suggest that it was rousing the kids. You smiled softly to yourself and returned your attention to the words, whispering them quietly to yourself. “‘Sleep, love sleep, the night winds sigh, in soft lullaby. The Lark is at rest with the dew on her breast. So close those dear eyes, that borrowed their hue from the heavens so blue, sleep, love sleep.’”

“You are not resting?”

Your head snapped up, eyes rounding as Optimus’ holoform fizzled into being from nothing before you, reminding you of old myths about Grecian gods (and the forms they took to woo mortals). You smothered the thought immediately. “I didn’t realize you were still awake.”

“I was not, but you left. I wanted to ensure you were all right,” Optimus rumbled, stepping over and settling himself onto the stool next to you, closer to the whispering rain - close enough that your elbows would touch if you were so inclined to lean towards him.

“I’m fine,” you told him softly, clicking off the light on reflex. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He studied you for a moment, and you could swear that perhaps his eyes did almost glow in the dark. “You struggle with insomnia?”

It was honestly less of a question and more of an observation, but he was polite enough not to let it be known that your behavior was that obvious. You shrugged. “I have for a few years now, but I’ve gotten used to it. I just left my supplements at home.”

His brows furrowed just so. “You require aid to assist?”

“It’s not like I can just turn my brain off,” you joked, pointing towards your head. “I don’t know if it’s different for you guys, but humans’ brains stay active even while we’re sleeping. That’s why we dream.”

“I…see. Our autonomous functions continue similarly, but we do not dream.”

“Oh.” You frowned lightly. “Not at all?”

Optimus tilted his head slightly, staring resolutely down at the gravel beneath his boots with a contemplative hum. “It is difficult to explain.  We do not…‘dream’, by your common definition, so much as we relive our memories. Our processors cannot reinvent nor repurpose information already recorded as humans do. Our memories can become corrupted and data will bleed together as a result, but that is as close to dreaming as we come. And, if that happens, the memories themselves are of a more…volatile nature, to produce such a result.”

Your frown deepened. “Are you saying you can only have nightmares?”

“In a worst-case scenario. It is simply more common due to the health concerns involved in their development related to stressful or traumatic events.” He released a long exhale. “Though it is much rarer, memories with other strong emotional attachments can produce a similar result. Exultation, for example - however, such cases are simply not as frequent.”

“I see. Like flashbulb memories, but on a much more extreme scale,” you related. “I enjoyed learning psychology a couple of years ago, though I know it doesn’t really come close to this biologically since you’re…well, mechanical, and we’re organic. It just fascinates me that our wiring produces similar results, so to speak.”

Optimus gave you an appraising look, seemingly pleased. “Our peoples are more similar than I would ever have initially thought upon making contact with humanity. Anatomically we could be considered cousins - distant, perhaps, but still related.”

You realized, then, that the limited familiarity you had with reading him normally was amplified tenfold seeing his microexpressions and body language translated into human form. He had never before looked so obviously open with his emotions - the inquisitive sparkle in his eyes, the unwavering attentiveness of his gaze fixated wholly on you, the softness of his features. He was so innately curious about anything and everything, despite having every reason to have become callused throughout his lifetime, and you found it endlessly endearing.

“I’d like to study that further,” you smiled, “though I’m sure Ratchet would get tired of my questions.”

“He, too, is as studious as I,” Optimus mused. “That is partly how we met. If a topic is ever struck about that which he is passionate, it is difficult to curb his enthusiasm.” That same barely-there smile, so much more prominent than usual. Perhaps he was unaccustomed to moderating his expressions in his holomatter avatar since it was so rarely used. “But if ever you have questions, I would be more than happy to indulge you, s’mol’lis.”

“What does that mean?” you blurted, unable to help yourself. His brows rose slightly, expression carefully receding back into neutrality. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. I’ve just never heard you say that before, what little you’ve spoken Cybertronian.”

“You hear it as Cybertronian?” he questioned quietly, sounding taken aback.

“Um…yes?” You frowned. “Am I not supposed to?”

“I am saying your name in English,” he explained, and…was he genuinely surprised? “That you are able to understand the harmonics attached to it is…unexpected.” You blinked at him, and he elaborated, “In Cybertronian dialects, we speak on multiple frequencies at once. It takes the internal complexity of our audial structure to understand each layer individually, as well as combined. It is how we assign titles, ranks, or…feelings to certain objects, or people.”

“It’s not like I can tell what exactly you’re saying, it’s just…quiet, in a way.” Your face felt unbearably hot. Were you not supposed to notice or comment on this? “I’m…sorry if I’ve overstepped or anything, I was just curious. I’d noticed my name started to sound a little different, but today it really stood out to me.”

“Yes. To address someone by their name is an inherently transparent statement of one’s regard for that person. A Cybertronian cannot lie in how they feel for another. It is impossible.” He watched you carefully for a long moment, eyes studying your face. It took him even longer to continue. “I have much respect for you, s’mol’lis, and hold you in high esteem. You are a primary example to me of the ideals that humanity represents. Your outlook on life is highly advanced for someone of your age, and I find that you have caused me to reconsider things from different perspectives I never would have imagined on my own. It is…refreshing, to hear your opinions on things. You are highly intelligent, as well as open-minded, and your capacity for compassion is one to be admired. I am exceedingly grateful that I have had the opportunity to meet you. You have afforded me room to stop and observe the little things that I had forgotten were just as important as the grand scheme of them. Your world is truly beautiful, and you’ve reminded me not to take that for granted. I wish to protect it, unlike how I failed to do so for Cybertron.” His gaze turned to the rain still pouring from the sky, and he reached out with an upturned palm to watch the droplets dribble over his artificial skin. His expression tightened slightly. “…Although I do wish it might have been under different circumstances. Knowing that I pose an eternal danger to you merely by proxy…”

“I’d risk it a million times over,” you interrupted instantly, causing his brows to rise again as he withdrew his hand and smeared the moisture onto his jeans. “You - all of you - have changed my life in ways I would never have expected. I am so very grateful for that. You don’t know how much you - all mean to me.” Your eyes stung, but you took a steadying inhale through your nose. “You’ve changed my life for the better.”

“As have you. I shall have to inquire Ratchet about the potential implications of you being able to understand even a small fraction of our native tongue, though it can wait for later.” Optimus’ lips upturned, and your heart squeezed. He glanced down at the book in your hand. “You were reading poetry?”

“I, ah…yes.” You handed him the book and tried to give him the pocket light, as well, but he shook his head. “I’ve really enjoyed reading it lately. It’s calming, and gets my mind off things.”

“I am able to see more in the dark than a human can, even while utilizing my holomatter avatar,” Optimus rumbled, flipping it open to the page you’d had marked. “I find that it has a similar effect for me.” He glanced down at you, earnesty in his stratospheric baby blues. “Would you like to continue reading it by me narrating it aloud?”

“Oh,” you murmured, face growing hot again. (God, would he ever stop flustering you?) “You don’t have to, really - I didn’t even mean to wake you up-”

He leaned in closer, peering directly into your eyes. “I do not mind,” he told you plaintively. “I enjoy reading it as well. It would be no trouble to help you sleep.”

Oh. You really were that transparent, huh?

“I…guess I can’t argue with that.” You leaned back against the stone wall behind you, trying to ignore the fact that while he may have been composed of solid light in this form, he undeniably radiated warmth. “Thank you.”

“There is no need.” He, too, reclined against the worn rock, folded his legs at the ankles, and propped the book against his knees. “You were half-way through this one?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, eyes drifting up to study the faint illumination of his profile against the midnight backdrop. Maybe your initial associations with Greek mythology weren’t too far off the mark, after all.

“Very well.” He cleared his throat quietly, then settled into a low, rhythmic cadence that immediately set you at ease. “‘Sleep, love sleep, the pale moon looks down on the valleys around, the Glow Moth is flying’…”

You exhaled slowly, eyelids slipping shut as you turned to face him - and, in so doing, brushed against his arm. Wordlessly, he lifted it - and though you hesitated, he waited for you to tuck yourself into his side proper before enclosing his grasp around your back. His broad and impossibly warm hand settled on your shoulder, and you firmly told yourself that he was being considerate of the chill blowing into the alcove on a gentle breeze causing you to shiver. He was the epitome of a gentleman, after all, and even as his voice vibrated through his apparition’s side against your ear, you could summon no proper argument against allowing him to be so courteous.

And he was warm - so very warm, and safe, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt if you just rested your eyes for a minute. You didn’t want to fall asleep against him, because that would be awkward and would make him uncomfortable and he’d have to move you back into the cab eventually, but…

“…‘the South wind is sighing, and I am low lying, with lute deftly strung, to pour out my song’…” And were you really imagining things again, or did he turn his head to whisper the last line directly into your ear? “…‘sleep, love. Sleep.’”

…No, that didn’t sound like a bad idea at all, actually. Maybe five minutes wouldn’t hurt.

“We’re baaack!”

You heard Ratchet’s scoff all the way across the hangar, even as the churning vortex of the groundbridge drowned out most other sounds. You shook your head with a thin smile, watching as the kids eagerly ran into the interior of the silo. You took your time, sore all over from sleeping upright all night.

You had fallen asleep, much to your chagrin, and deeply, too. The chipper twitter of birdsong in the bleak dawn had roused you, and you’d realized with a start that you’d just about fallen into Optimus’ lap - which he hadn’t disengaged all throughout the night. Startled awake when you’d sat up abruptly, mortified beyond measure, he’d gently explained that he hadn’t wanted to disturb you and thus had merely allowed himself to fall into stasis likewise. While it was not your preferred method of getting him to rest, you’d take it - even if Miko had been giving you her signature side-eye all morning after they woke to the scent your haphazard breakfast consisting of black instant coffee and PB&Js.

Ratchet stepped out of his alcove to greet the lot of you (though primarily Optimus, you knew). “You missed your midnight check-in,” the medic groused, pointing an accusatory finger at the Prime.

“We were preoccupied,” responded Optimus smoothly, “with telling campfire stories.”

Ratchet’s optical ridge rose incredulously. “A thunderstorm passed over your location.”

“We improvised!” Raf piped up with a grin, already halfway up the mezzanine with the other two. “It was really fun!”

“Yeah, it was,” Jack agreed. He turned to address the crimson and cobalt mech. “Thanks for taking us, Optimus.”

“Yeah, thank you!” Raf parroted.

They both pointedly looked at Miko. “Oh, yeah. Thanks!” She shrugged. “Sorry you got cramped up in your altmode, though.”

“It was no trouble,” he responded. “And you are welcome.”

Ratchet gestured him over impatiently, already activating his scanner and opening the screen embedded into the kibble encasing his forearm. “Yes, yes, that’s all well and good - but I need to make sure that the static didn’t accumulate in your wiring, and…” His optics narrowed suddenly, and he squinted up at the Prime. “Your energon levels should not be that low. Did you even properly recharge?”

You looked up at him, too, doubtful, but he merely shook his helm at the medic once before glancing around the rest of the hangar. “Where are the others?”

Evidently, his dismissal and redirection worked because Ratchet let out an aggravated ex-vent. “You’ll have to call them out of the field,” he glowered. “I managed to wrangle them long enough to examine them, but as soon as I brought up updating their firewalls they may as well have vanished into thin air. Which reminds me!” He reached to one of his shelves and withdrew a syringe that made you feel faint just looking at the length of its needle. “I forgot to inject yours, as well.”

Optimus shifted slightly, optics shuttering. “I will go find them first,” he said, and you watched in dumbfounded silence as he power-walked with as much poise and grace a mech of his size could manage right out of the hangar into the corridor.

You expected Ratchet to grow even more livid, but despite how it flabbergasted you, a knowing smirk curled at the edges of Ratchet’s intake.

“You like having them scared of you, don’t you?” you asked with some amusement.

That hint of a smile disappeared instantly, and Ratchet scoffed again while turning to face his monitor. “It’s not my fault that they avoid standard maintenance!” he retorted. “But they’ll eventually have to come back to refuel, and they’ll get their immunizations one way or another - even if I have to chase them down myself.”

You smothered a laugh into your hand, shaking your head all the while, and made a beeline for the corridor. “I’m going to shower. Just don’t tear down the base while I’m gone.”

“There’s no telling with how Bulkhead squirms,” Ratchet responded.

It wasn’t until you had your head down, fair flipped over and scrubbing the grime away in the warm stream, that you realized that Optimus hadn’t exactly answered your question.

[littleshysheep-at-da]

Want a bunch of unsolicited Persona Opinions?

A decent amount of this is less Opinion but more Description of you were to explain these Games to someone who hasn’t Played this (yes this is my Autistic Hobby) but my Opinion is delightfully sprinkled throughout.

In this order under the cut: SMT vs Persona and my Preference, Game Rating vs Player Age, Lots of People Involved in the Making Off, Self-Insert Blank Slate Protagonist vs Silent Protagonist, Good vs Bad Genderbends, Female Protagonist, Dating Sim Unfortunate Truths, and Romance Routes.

SMT vs Persona and my Preference

I think Shin Megami Tensei Main Line Games have a very big focus on world building where the Persona Series is more focused on characters.

I tend to get most attached to characters in a story which is probably why I love Persona so much.

Game Rating vs Player Age

The Persona Series is rated M for Mature. However a lot of younger teens have played these Games (myself included) and I will argue that’s it’s because despite definitely having a lot of dark and mature themed plots they do not show this content very graphically.

Lots of People Involved in the Making Off

The thing about Big Companies like Atlus is there are a lot of people involved on each Project. Think of it this way the Credits are usually 7 Minutes long scroll faster than is Readable and Multiple things are Credited to a Team instead of Listing each Name Involved. This means that sometimes the Narrative can feel a bit Disjointed. Now Persona has very strong Theming in Terms of Art Direction and Music Direction (which can be Credited to having one Very Incredible Lead Artist and Music Director on the Project) and though each Game definitely has a Narrative Theme it follows there are definitely individual Character Moments that clash strongly. There will be some very Out Of Character Moments where we need a Character to act that way to move along the Story despite it making no sense for them to act that way. The best way to Describe this is that the Person who Conceptualized that Character and Wrote them probably didn’t Write the Scene where they are Out Of Character. It’s one of the biggest issues of Massive Game Companies in particular of there being not quite enough Communication between Writers to have a Consistent Intent of who they want things Portrayed. It is very hard to make sure a Team that big is all on the same page, but that is the Director's Job that maybe they could’ve done better maybe not. There Definitely is also some Decisions made for “Marketing” that clash with what the Writers/Artist actually intended but they have no choice but to go with what the Director makes them.

Self-Insert Blank Slate Protagonist vs Silent Protagonist

-In the Persona Series the Protagonist is pretty much always what’s known as a Silent Protagonist. However I will argue that’s different from a Self-Insert or Blank Slate Protagonist. In Persona you’re not intended to write the player character as you and give them whatever look or personality you want. Despite being a Silent Protagonist all the Persona Protags have something of their own personality. Their personality comes through from their body language, self talk, and dialogue option choices (the last one sort of gives you the range of their personality).

-Basically anything narrated in first person means there will be flavor text in how they choose to describe things. When you interact with things (and the character describes what they’re looking at is how it’s done in Video Games) or the situation is described by the protagonist that gives us their personality.

-Personally I have a very strong Pet Peeve for people who take a Silent Protagonist or the character being the Player Character meaning they’re supposed to be Self-Insert. Because neither of those things inherently mean they are supposed to be a Self-Insert.

-Old Gen Examples: the fact that in Persona 2: Innocent Sin and Persona 2: External Punishment Tatsuya and Maya switch between being the Silent Protagonist and the one who is not is STILL a fully fledged character.

-Main Line Examples: There’s a point where Minato (P3mc) and Souji (P4mc) hear the same song (Tanaka’s Commodities) and Minato (P3mc) describes it as annoying while Souji (P4mc) describes it as happy. Or how both Akira (P5mc) and Souji (P4mc) constantly suggest that they could Crossdress. Or how the only quest that Souji (P4mc) gives himself (is not requested by someone else) is to pet every cat in Inaba.

-Extra Examples: when the Protagonist is not the Main Player Character in Spin Off Game they are a fully fledged character with their own Personality. In Persona 4 Dancing and Persona 4 Arena we see Souji (P4mc) give a full Narration from his perspective with his opinions. In Persona Q and Persona Q2 which ever Protagonist you don’t play as (in PQ the one you didn’t choose and in PQ2 Souji (P4mc) and Minato (P3mc)) is their own character despite the fact they still don’t talk a ton compared to others.

Good vs Bad Genderbends

-Of NewGen Persona 3 is the only Game to have the option of Playing as a Female Protagonist. Because of this a lot of people really wanted Persona 4 and Persona 5 to also have an option for a Female Protagonist. And though I think it’s a cool idea I think people are greatly misunderstanding just how much Gender has Barring on Identity.

-I will fully admit to just not being a Fan of Genderbends, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with them but I’m not a Fan. A big reason I dislike Genderbends is simply because there are a lot of bad ones. When people Genderbend they don’t often think about the reasons behind the Character Design, they just give them longer hair and a skirt for a girl and shorter hair and pants for a boy.

-The fastest and easiest example I can give is actually YuGiOh (my Sister’s Favorite Series). Yugi is wearing a Punked-Out version of the Boy’s School Uniform, so if he was a girl it would be a Punked-Out version of the Girl’s School Uniform thus his jacket would be pink not blue. That’s what I mean with “Reasons Behind Character Design” to keep it as the same personality. There are different things that are equivalent for each gender.

-A slightly more complicated example is from the Twitter Manga Trapped In A BL World where an extra shows what the Characters would look like as Women. The Main Character in this Series is purposely trying to be a Background Character is what you need to know for this. The Character explains he would have a different type of stylized eyes because though his eyes on a Man make him look like a Background Character as a Women that would make him look like a Main Character.

-Persona 3 actually does Genderbending really well with Minato (P3mc) and Hamuko (P3femc). A lot of people don’t realize it but they are the male and female equivalent of each other. Minato (P3mc) had a slightly scene hair cut, Hamuko (P3femc) has the girl version of that same haircut (shorter bangs longer back but same cut). Minato (P3mc) is somewhat depressed and awkward at relationships but doesn’t stand out, the thing is on a girl visibly being a loner would make you stand out so for Hamuko (P3mc) the girl equivalent of not standing out while not letting people know you’re struggling is being slightly bubbly and superficial in conversation. People just think Minato (P3mc) is in an edgy teen phase and people just think Hamuko (P3femc) in an Airhead teen phase.

Female Protagonist

-Of NewGen Persona 3 is the only Game to have the option of Playing as a Female Protagonist. Because of this a lot of people really wanted Persona 4 and Persona 5 to also have an option for a Female Protagonist. And though I think it’s a cool idea I think people are greatly misunderstanding just how much Gender has Barring on Identity.

-A Female Protagonist works in Persona 3 because you are not the main driving force behind Plot Points. You are joining a pre-existing Organization so even though your Gender chances Personal Relationships it does not change the trajectory of the Overarching Plot because you are simply never the one in charge of that.

-See in Persona 4 and Persona 5 you being the leader of your Team and being responsible for forming your friend group means that you being a different Gender would change how the others first react to you.

-For example in Persona 4; if you were a girl Yukiko and Chie would probably open up to you faster while Yosuke would be more awkward this could change who goes into the TV World with you first and maybe even who gets a Palace. Yosuke would be more Romantic/Flirty towards you (and not have a Sexuality Crisis) and Rise would probably be the one who has a Sexuality Crisis and Cut Romance Route. Kanji would be way more awkward with you and wouldn’t open up nearly as fast while Naota (seeing you are a woman in a position of Power which is what they are struggling with) would probably be way more willing to open up. And so on.

-For example in Persona 5; if you a girl would probably not be painted as an aggressive delinquent but a slut who tried to hit on Shido. Sojiro might be nicer to you off the bat and Ann might be nicer to you too since you would basically be in a very similar situation to her (I don’t actually think Ryuji would change too much, it's just who he is). Kamoshida would not threaten you with physical violence but probably sexually harass you. Quite frankly because Persona 5 deals with abuse as a main Plot Point there are A LOT of time where being a girl means it wouldn’t just be physical but sexual as well (the whole Kaneshiro thing becomes drastically less safe for a Female Protagonist, unfortunately it just often is less safe being a woman because of misogyny). And so on.

-In Persona 3 it’s not that Characters don’t react very differently to you with a different Gender (Yukari being the biggest example) it’s just the Social Aspect with you in particular is not what drives most Plot Points. You are not so much a catalyst for change as just another member.

-And it’s not to say 2 entirely very different Game Routes would be a bad thing. From a Game Player point of view that would be very cool. From a Game Designer point of view that sounds awful. Most Games with drastically different Plot for each Route are Visual Novels as they take way less assets to do so. Case in point Persona 3 Portable was changed to be mostly a Visual Novel (mostly for size restrictions to my knowledge).

Dating Sim Unfortunate Truths

NewGen Persona is Particularly a Social/Dating Sim, the real reason behind that aspect is most likely Marketing to appeal to a wider Audience. I do feel that unfortunately the Romance Route/Dating Sim Element takes away from the rest of the Game and Attracts some Unsavory Fans. The Fact that you can Romance every Main Female Character Unfortunately Attracts “DudeBros” people who; Feel Entitled To Women’s Bodies, Have No Reading Comprehension, and therefore look at the Game as a Harem Sim ignoring; literally every other Plot Point, any Agency the Female Characters have outside of their Relationship with the Main Character, and any Personality the Main Character has outside of being a Self Insert Wish Fulfillment. Maybe that is incredibly harsh sounding, there are definitely people who enjoy the Romance Routes and Self Insert Aspects but can appreciate and Comprehend the Story outside of it. But I have unfortunately seen too many “DudeBros” to ignore how Marketing in a way, that not specifically to appeal to them but does appeal to them, really takes away from the Narrative as a whole. I will say the only acceptation for me is Aigis, as I feel she is worked into the Narrative well.

Romance Routes

-In Persona there are Romance Routes for the Social-Links/Confidants, this is part of Persona sort-of being a Social Sim and at Times A BIT of a Self-Insert Game. However none of the Romance Routes in NewGen are Truly Canon, some people will argue some of them are though. A decent amount of the Romance Routes are supposed to be more for the Player/Self-Insert and Fanservice than they are Shipping the Protagonist as their own Character. When you Date someone there will be certain Events where you can take your Partner on a Date (like Valentines, White Day, and Christmas).

-Except for Persona 2 they’re aren’t any real Gay Romances (P3P being a bit of an Exception with Elizabeth and Aigis but both of those are a bit weird with never truly stating that you’re Dating). Persona 4 almost had one (Yosuke) but it was cut at the very last minute. I think it’s very strange that Games with Themes of “Being Your True Self” despite what people think and “Rebelling Against Society” and its norms does not have Gay Romance Options. However unfortunately big name Games cutting LGBTA+ or Progressive Content to be more “Marketable” is pretty common, it is usually the Directors Decision and not the Artists/Writers too.

-A Character having a bit of a Crush on the Main Character DOES NOT make her the “Canon Love Insert” because a Crush is One Sided. Except for Persona 2 where the Creators EXPLICITLY state the Game was written with the intent of Tatsuya and Jun being Romantic, there ARE NO CANON ROMANCES WITH THE PROTAGONIST. I say this (very annoyed) because people will argue that (in Persona 4) Rise, Marie, (in Persona 5) Makoto, or Kasumi are “Canon” because of certain Scenes pushing them together. Romantic Social Links are Non-Canon, there are many Writers on the team for NewGen so one adding a Scene to Cater to a certain audience, and just adding focus on a new Character does not mean it’s Reciprocated Romantic Intent.

-Just my Opinion:

-I will fully admit my Opinion on all Romance Routes (in NewGen so not including Persona 2’s) fall into one of two Categories. The First Category being: there’s nothing inherently wrong with the Romance Route but it feels incredibly Mundane (especially in terms of what actual Dating Games have for Drama btw) and clashes with the Tone of the overall Narrative, feeling way too Casual/Weak in comparison to the ride or die Relationships you have as Teammates. The Second Category being: crossing a line and feeling VERY creepy, whether that is Groomer-ish (not a Word I EVER say lightly but unfortunately does fit) or incredibly Emotionally Manipulative. So I either think the Romance Route is fine but kinda boring or creepy and abusive. The Majority are fine but kinda boring, only a select handful cross the creepy and abusive line (which are some of the stand out Weakest Writing Moments in all of Persona).

-Also with how it’s Written I feel the Friendzone Social Links actually come off stronger Narrative Wise. I feel the Friendzone Route gives each individual Character more Agency and a better completion to their individual Character Arcs.

-Particularly in Persona 5 a lot of the Dialogue Choices that decide the Romance feel kinda bad for the Character. Like the one that starts the Romance is very much “Rely On Me” where the one that keeps it Friends is more “You Got I This I Support You” which I feel is better for the Character’s Arch.

-I will say I think in Persona 3 Aigis and Ryoji are probably the Exceptions for me as I think they actually fit into the Narrative.

-In Persona 2 you can Romance:

-(3) Jun, Lisa, and Maya.

-Unlike NewGen in Persona 2 it is intended that Jun is the Canon Romance. The Story is Written with the intention of Tatsuya and Jun being Romantic. Tatsuya is Implied to be Bisexual while Jun is implied to be Gay. The Writers have stated this indirectly.

-In Persona 3 you can Romance:

-As Male: (7)

Elizabeth, Aigis, Yukari, Mitsuru, Fuuka, Yuuko, and Chihiro.

-This hasn’t been Updated for Persona 3 Reload and is for the previous 3 Versions (Original, Persona 3 FES, and Persona 3 Portable) of Persona 3. But in Reload the Dialogue is pretty much the same but now you can Friendzone the Girls so you can do multiple Social-Links without having to Cheat. You can still Reverse the Social-Links if you are mean or unsupportive.

-There is no way to Friendzone anyway so if you do a Girls Social-Link she will consider you Dating even though the Narrative hasn’t gotten there yet. So they will consider it Cheating if they do another Girls Social-Link at the same time. The Details are something like if you talk to another Girl and don’t talk to her for 3 Days. This will Reverse the Social-Link and you will Lose their Bonus. However if Max the Social-Link to Level 10 and then do another Girls they won’t care.

-The Romance Routes that are not Teammates (Yuuko and Chihiro) feel a bit strange in tone compared to the rest of the Game (just because of how detached from the Main Plot they are) but on their own are decently Written.

-As Female: (7)

Elizabeth, Theo, Aigis, Akihiko, Shinjiro, Ken, and Ryoji.

-Even as a Female Player Elizabeth and Aigis Social-Links do not change, making it implied that Hamuko (P3femc), Elizabeth, and Aigis are Bisexual.

-There is no way to Friendzone anyone still, but unlike Minato (P3mc) there are no consequences to Hamuko (P3femc) doing Multiple Romances at one time. They’re will be dialogue of them being angry at each other and you might miss a Day to Advance the Social-Link (though they get over it pretty fast) but they do not Reverse.

-The Ken route is frankly quite odd. The age gap, though not criminal, is still weird. The fact that he says you remind him of his Mother also just does not seem like a healthy Romance. The entire team sort of takes a guiding Older Sibling Role (though never directly stated) towards Ken so the Romance is an Odd Choice. While I wouldn’t say it gives off “Groomer Vibes” it’s still kinda creepy.

-In Persona 4 you can Romance:

-(8) Marie, Chie, Yukiko, Naoto, Rise, Ai, Yume, and Ayane.

-You can now Friendzone people, so you can Complete their Social-Link without Romancing them. With some Characters you have to make the first move and others will bring it up themselves. The Game will prompt you that You're Making An Important Decision and Should Choose Your Words Carefully. You can Cheat and Romance Multiple Characters at once but there will be Dialogue of Souji (P4mc) having Soul Crushing Guilt over Cheating.

-The Romance Routes that are not Teammates (Ai, Yume, and Ayane) feel a bit strange in tone compared to the rest of the Game (just because of how detached from the Main Plot they are) but on their own are decently Written.

-In Persona 5 you can Romance:

-(10) Ann, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, Kasumi, Hifumi, Kawakami, Tae, Ohya, and Chifuya.

-You can Friendzone people, and it works exactly the same as in P4. So you can Complete their Confidant without Romancing them. With some Characters you have to make the first move and others will bring it up themselves. The Game will prompt you that You're Making An Important Decision and Should Choose Your Words Carefully. You can Cheat but on Valentine’s Day if you have Multiple Girlfriends there is a Cutscene where they run into each other, realize you are Cheating, get mad, and beat you up.

-Also if you don't Date anyone you will spend Romantic Holidays or Scenes hanging out with the Boys instead (if you buy Flowers on White Day you can give them to Sojiro as a thank you). Plus you Max Level 10 the Girls Confidant but don’t Romance them they will give you Giri-Chocolate (Friend Chocolate) on White Day.

-I hate the Futaba and Akira (P5mc) Romance because they specifically mention that they’re like Siblings so transitioning to a Romance is very awful. Also the way Futaba is emotionally stunted and Akira (P5mc) being the one guiding her in learning social norms makes it feel Groomer-ish to me (and I NEVER use that Word lightly (even if it’s technically the wrong term here)).

-I can forgive the Adult Confidant Romance (Kawakami, Tae, Ohya, and Chifuya) SOMEWHAT. Because it doesn't feel like it’s supposed to be Akira (P5mc) as his own Character with the Confidant but more intended as a Self-Insert for the Player who (due to the time gap between P4 and P5) are probably Adults themselves if they’re Fans from previous Games. I still think they shouldn’t really be there (especially when some of them empathize how you’re a Kid and they’re an Adult. because Akira (P5mc) is 16 and all these Women are Adults (Women can also be Pedophillas yknow)), but I can slightly understand what they were trying to do.

-Though with the Adult Confidant Romance both Kawakami and Tae’s are very creepy with how much the Student-Teacher and Doctor-Patient is supposed to be the allure of the Relationship.

[femivi]

uhmm would it be rllie insane of me to ask you to answer ﾉ all ﾉ those selfship questions for haimi . . ? ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა i just rllie wanma know more about you two wehh 🥺 but if it is too much hehe , then i would be overjoyed to learn your answers to lace + zzz + cosmic 💌

oh my sweetest coco how do i ever thank u for this haha. . . i got all giddy nd happy to talk abt him nd me :3 im sorry this took sooo long to answer, i was quite busy :")) forgiv me if it's a bit incoherent . . i tried my best to give shorter answers ! ☘️

raspberry ౨ৎ how did the two of you meet?

– our ‘first meeting’ was at the akademiya's library, where i was chatting with tighnari, who introduced me to haitham. it was a bit awkward though . . me having the wrong impression of him being cold n harsh nd it didn't rly help with us later having to cooperate on our inter-darshan research project ! ! hmph ! ! ㌥(ง ⸝⸝ ᵕ⌓ᵕ)ว㌥

wine ౨ৎ how did your first date go?

– i don't know if study dates really count, but other than that, we didn't really have an official ‘first date’. we often spent a lot of time chatting in razan gardens, trying to find some peace and quiet around the akademiya. . . and then he would offer to tutor me in that cute gazebo at pardis dhyai :3 which i take as a sort of ‘first date’ - it was very cute ! but still a little awkward to be completely honest . . we talked about the classes we're taking, our interests and just were nerds together for a while . . but it started raining on our way back to sumeru city and he hold his coat over both of us so we don't get soaked by the rain . . 🌧️ ( we totally did )

vanilla bean ౨ৎ what does a day off with your lover look like?

– depends on the weather, really! we're usually home, just taking it slow and enjoying each other's company quietly. if it's colder ﾉ rainy we stay in and i either clean or nap . . haithie is reading, or maybe exercising ! and if it's warm we go out for a stroll along port ormos, maybe a picnic in mawtiyama !!! and sometimes go for a swim :–)

ballet slipper ౨ৎ do you have any pets?

– we don't :”–( sadly i'm allergic to both cats and dogs, nd i don't think either of us would have the time to take care of any other animal . . but i love seeing & feeding the rainbow parrots around sumeru ♡

coconut ౨ৎ relaxing bubble baths or refreshing showers?

– we both prefer the shower ! ! :–)

teacup ౨ৎ are the two of you morning people or night owls?

– for me, it really depends on how i feel, but once the sun sets i'm already getting sleepy, waking up early too. meanwhile al haitham has a strict routine he follows, going to bed around 11pm and then waking up slightly later than me. i think that makes us both morning birds, i suppose? neither of us would voluntarily stay up long into the night unless necessary.

bubblegum ౨ৎ any hobbies the two of you share?

– aside from the obvious, which is reading– we like to exercise or do yoga together, spending time in the kitchen . . cooking, baking etc :3 nd he often teaches me some new words in the languages he's studying at the moment ! !

wedding cake ౨ৎ what was your wedding like?

– . . we had a very small ceremony in the cute gazebo at pardis dhyai, but the wedding itself took place close to vanarana . . ( with the approval of nahida and aranara, of course ! ) it was small, and private, nothing grand– whimsical and quaint, very cozy :–) !! we wore our traditional wear for the ceremony ♡

honeymoon ౨ৎ where did the two of you travel? and how was it?

– we travelled to fontaine !! rented one of the small cottages on the countryside, staying there for a week . . relaxing, taking morning swims in the river . . amongst other . . naughty stuff

crêpe ౨ৎ what are your breakfast orders?

– for me, i don't have breakfasts very often, unless i wake up late ( ironic, i know ) i'll have some tea and fruit or something very light . . haitham views breakfast as very important and would often encourage me to eat with him . . he'd have some kind of bread with sarsheer ﾉ paneer and also fresh cut veggies like cucumber or tomatoes.

lipstick stain ౨ৎ where do you love to kiss them? where do they love to kiss you?

– i really luv to kiss his fingetips and the tip of his nose . . though haitham is usually a bit timid about physical affection he likes to kiss the top ﾉ the temple of my head.

rose petal ౨ৎ what does your home look like?

– our home is very cozy, to say the least. i imagine we asked kaveh to help with the interior design ? ( bc we both knew he wouldn't visit if he didn't like it . . ﾉhj ) making it a small mix of art nouveau & middle eastern furniture, cluttered, a lot of book piles and greenery, breezy curtains, overall very soft & quaint atmosphere . . and of course a small porch with a cushion swing in the front !

champagne ౨ৎ how do you celebrate new years?

– i don't like drinking nor fireworks ( stereotypical new year celebration ) nd i think haitham is not very enthusiastic abt it either. but we would- either meet up with closest friends during evening, or visit mawtiyama to sit on top of those big mushrooms, watch sumeru city fireworks from afar, lighting sparklers nd maybe even kiss under the stars hehe ♥︎

lace ౨ৎ what’s their favorite outfit of yours?

– tbh he likes when i wear the most homeless looking outfits hahaha . or something like a small tee ﾉ tank top and shorts, with a thin dupatta over it ! loose nd frilly shirts nd dresses with big ﾉ low back window haha . . it's not rly an outfit but i also wear indian anklets with bells nd he really likes the soft ringing around the house . . .

cupcake ౨ৎ do you and your lover frequent parties/clubs/social gatherings often?

– neither. we're both on the introverted side and don't like crowds or anything of that sort. we enjoy planned meetings with friends, though :3

zzz ౨ৎ what are your sleeping positions like?

– i get warm ﾉ overwhelmed by touch quickly sometimes, so we don't rly spoon a lot . . alhaitham prefers to sleep on his back, like a true victorian child, meanwhile i am always sleeping on either side, curled up under the sheets ( . . usually with one leg out haha ) often just touching his chest with my forehead, or just having my hand placed on his arm.

cosmic ౨ৎ who said i love you first? and how did that go?

– al haitham >_< it was rly awkward ﾉ accidental but in an endearing way ? i got back from an expedition in fontaine, and he invited me out for an evening stroll at razan gardens. we sat down under those beautiful gazebos, talked for a bit, and somehow it slipped him . . he quickly apologised for it :( . . but i said yes hehe ♥︎ nd surprised both him and myself with this.

wistful ౨ৎ what’s your sex life like?

– err next question ! ! ! just kidding . . well um overall, we're not intimate much – at least not before moving in together – after that . . we keep it slow and gentle, not too often. we prefer to show our affection through different ways, but ofc enjoy being intimate with each other ‘every now and then’ :3 ( ← liar. like twice a week cough. cough. what. )

sorbet ౨ৎ what does aftercare look like for you and your lover?

– i have really bad stamina, so there's a high chance that i'll just fall asleep afterwards ( skill issue tbh . . ) but mostly we just cuddle or massage our bodies :3 which is not smth we do very often, so it's always a nice treat ♥︎

love letter ౨ৎ what are your love languages? and how do the two of you execute them?

– both of our "main" love languages are acts of service and quality time. he is very thoughtful and often does things without me asking to do so ( like cutting fruit for me, reminding me to drink or doing something i've mentioned off handedly ) he would be reading with me sitting in between his legs crotcheting or drawing . . sometimes, i also give words of affirmation like “you're doing well..” or saying something i sense he needs to hear at that moment ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ .

[promise-in-progress]

Some yandere x reader content for a best friend turned yandere story —

I will be using Yan as a shortened form of The Yandere. I tried to only use gender neutral language for both you and the yandere.

// content contains: stalking, social isolation, manipulation, mentions of perversion, jealousy, soft yandere themes

……………………………………

•~ Neither Yan nor you remember a time without each other. You met as children. You were neighbors and attended the same preschool, so naturally your parents arranged a carpooling system. Yan was painfully quiet as a child and would rarely interact with the other children at preschool. Yet, during those brief car rides to and from school, you would offer to share fruit snacks with Yan or make a funny face to get Yan to laugh. Yan couldn’t help but feel happy around you. Soon enough, you became friends.

•~ The friendship continued into elementary school. By this age you were riding the bus to school everyday, but you two always made sure to sit next to each other towards the back. The other children would be screaming and throwing paper, but Yan and you would always sit calmly and chat with each other. Almost lost in your own little world.

•~ One year, it was announced that students who tested highly in math would be moved to the honors math class next year. Yan was excellent in math and never got below a 90% on a test. You on the other hand… were more of an artist than a mathematician. “You’ll definitely get into the honors math class next year!” You reassured Yan. “It’ll be sad not being in the same class together anymore, but I know you’ll do great!” Oddly enough… Yan did really poorly on the next several math quizzes after that. Ultimately, the school decided to keep Yan in the regular math class next year — the same class that you were put into!

•~ Once in middle school, things started to get more complicated. You wanted to spread your wings and explore more hobbies! You began to sign up for all sorts of clubs and after school activities — though Art Club was the one you were most excited about! It was just an excuse to doodle cute cartoon characters for an hour with other students that had the same hobby! Yan decided to sign up for the same club… which seems odd, since you have never seen Yan draw before? Nor did they show much interest in drawing during the club? You tried to encourage Yan to try out different clubs that they would like more, but they always refused. Besides, they liked being able to spend more time with you after school.

•~ Lunch time was always the worst. Yan was the only friend from elementary school that you had. And unfortunately, you didn’t have the same lunch period as Yan this year. You would awkwardly ask a random table if you could sit with them and then would eat your food quietly while the other students at the table whispered to each other and laughed at inside jokes. One day on the bus ride home, you told Yan about how lonely you felt during lunch time. The next day, you headed to the cafeteria for lunch to find Yan sitting at a table with a bag in their hand. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?” You asked. “I told the teacher that I needed to use the restroom—” they then quickly change the topic by pushing the lunch bag towards you. “Here. This should taste much better than the cafeteria food!” Inside was some of your favorite snacks, plus what looked to be a homemade meal! You didn’t even know that Yan could cook! Yan then stayed and chatted with you through lunch. You kept telling them that the teacher will be mad that they’re skipping class, but Yan always dismissed your concerns. You’re friends. This is what friends do for each other.

•~ Even outside of school, Yan and you spent all your time together. Yan practically lived at your house with how often they slept over. Since you were neighbors, it was easy for them to stop by at a moment’s notice. Whenever you texted them saying that you were feeling down, or stressed, or sad, or any bad feeling really, Yan would always be at your door a minute later with something to gift you. Usually it would be small things like a bag of your favorite chips or a new art supply that you’ve been wanting to try. But it always meant a lot to see them. Your parents would joke that Yan feels like their extra child with how often they’re around. Yan would always laugh along to these jokes.

•~ By high school, you knew you had to get more serious about school. You wanted to go to college, and that meant having a decent GPA and convincing teachers to write you recommendation letters. Yan always offered to help you study, and you often took them up on their offer. Yan was wicked smart. They really should be in honors classes, but they always signed up to take the same courses as you. By this point, you’re so used to spending every hour of the school day with Yan that you’ve stopped questioning why they sign up for your classes. It was just nice having a consistent friend around. Plus, it has been really great having their support. Like when you accidentally wrote down the wrong due date for that 5 page history paper and showed up to class empty handed, but then Yan revealed that they had written an extra paper that you could turn in. They explained that it was a “rough draft” that they had finished writing before deciding to change their writing topic, and thus wrote the second paper with their new idea. It didn’t make a lot of sense to you, but it saved you from having to endure the wrath of Ms. Cruz.

•~ Whenever you and Yan talked about college, they always seemed interested in applying to the same colleges as you. Which was interesting because the two of you wanted to major in completely different fields. Or at least, that’s what you thought. But lately Yan has expressed more interest in studying a field that’s related to yours. They said that hearing you talk about your passions has made them more passionate about that same topic. One late night, you invite Yan to sleepover and you two stay up drinking sodas and watching movies together. The topic of college comes up again, and you throw out the idea that if you two go to the same school then you could probably move off campus and get an apartment together by sophomore year. Yan immediately approves of this idea, and ever since that conversation they’ve been sending you links to various apartment listings around every college you’re applying to.

•~ There were a few people you met back in your middle school Art Club that were now in your same high school classes. You made an effort to sit by them whenever possible, and soon enough you became friends with several of them. Yan was never as talkative with these friends, but he would always hang around you during class, and thus consequently would be near the whole friend group. Your friends would sometimes express concern about how standoffish and rude Yan could be, but you would explain that Yan is just shy around new people and that they’re a total sweetheart once you get to know them. You tried asking Yan to open up more around your new friends, but Yan would always change the subject whenever you brought it up. Occasionally Yan would make a comment about how your new friends weren’t nearly as studious as you and Yan hoped they weren’t distracting you from getting into college.

•~ There was one person in your new friend group who was different from the rest. From the moment you met them back in middle school Art Club, you thought they were attractive. And then in high school, the two of you were assigned the same lunch period. You began eating lunch with them everyday, and suddenly lunch was your favorite part of the school day. Yan would still sometimes show up during your lunch period to bring homemade food to you, which you still greatly appreciated, but you also let Yan know that they really didn’t need to do that anymore. It’s a kind gesture, but you weren’t lonely during lunch anymore with your new friend there and the cafeteria food didn’t bother you as much anymore. Yet, after telling them this, Yan actually started showing up during your lunch time even more.

•~ Eventually, you and your new friend start to date. You couldn’t believe it at first. This person was attractive, funny, kind, talented, and every other wonderful thing you could want in a partner. You have never felt so excited to talk to someone. And every time you walk down the school hallway holding their hand, you feel like royalty. Of course… it wasn’t all great. When you first told Yan about your new significant other, they didn’t say much. In fact, they stared at you intensely for a moment. Almost like they were waiting for you to say sike and tell them that it was a joke. But you didn’t. And Yan’s face conveyed an emotion that you’ve never seen in them before. “Just be careful,” was all Yan said. “I don’t trust them one bit, and I don’t want you getting hurt.” You were hurt that your best friend didn’t approve of your partner… You begged Yan to give your partner a chance and try to get to know them. But every time Yan was around your partner, they would spend the entire time either ignoring them or glaring at them.

•~ Eventually, you managed to convince Yan to let your partner join one of your study sessions. All three of you are in the same history class, so it made sense to work together. The study session was at your house, and the three of you sat around your bedroom studying. For the first time, Yan seemed completely at ease around your partner and you were so excited to see them finally getting along. Until Yan turned to your partner and asked, “hey, do you have the worksheet that Ms. Cruz handed out last Monday?” Your partner nodded, “yeah, it’s in my backpack.” But as they opened their bag, your eyes got caught by a piece of fabric you see inside … a very familiar fabric… “Is that my underwear???” You exclaimed. Your partner instantly got flustered, “what? No! I don’t even know how that got in there!” You were so confused that you didn’t know what to say. But, before you could react, Yan jumped up and scolded your partner for being a pervert. You had never seen Yan so angry before. They yelled at your partner to give back the clothing and leave immediately. Your partner looked completely bewildered, but eventually left after Yan almost chased them out. Yan turned to you, “see? This is why I couldn’t trust them.”

•~ If that night weren’t bad enough, the next day you go to school you overhear all your friends nervously chattering and giving you weird looks. You asked them what’s going on. They exchanged worried glances. “It’s about your partner… a lot of people’s gym uniforms went missing the last few days… and they just now found them all, in your partner’s locker. What a creep!” You were horrified. You texted your partner instantly to see if this was true. They told you that the clothes were in their locker, but they had no idea how they got there and how they would never steal from people. When Yan heard the news, they insisted that you break up with your partner ASAP and block them on everything. They’re a pervert and can’t be trusted. You agree.

•~ Your ex stopped coming to school shortly after. You could only assume that they dropped out or transferred. You’re heartbroken, but Yan was there to support you. They took notes for you in every class for when you were too sad to pay attention. They brought you freshly baked treats every evening and even stayed late to listen to you rant about your ex over and over again. Yan never seemed to grow bored of listening to you trash talk your ex and call them a pervert. In fact, they seemed to enjoy it. They always insisted that you’re better off now. Usually Yan would stay so late that eventually you would fall asleep while they were still there. No worries though, because whenever you woke up you would always find yourself nearly tucked into bed with Yan sleeping under a few blankets on the floor of your room. On more than one occasion though, you noticed that there was a second indentation on your mattress right next to you…

… should I write more?

[kuralkara]

Whumperless Whump Event- Day 11-13

Nosebleed; Avalanche; Trapped under rubble

I started with One and it Snowballed so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

All those centuries of experience, and she still ended up in the same bullshit scenarios. 

The cabin and those who were inhabiting it were fine. There was nothing outright wrong with any of them. They were decent enough… people? Individuals? Aisling wasn’t sure if there was a way to generalize any of them. Granted, it definitely didn’t matter anywhere near as much as she was putting effort into, but it was the kind of thing that her mind made a habit of latching onto whenever there was a knot in the threads.

And a knot there was indeed. There was a gate in the middle of the forest. A big one. One that, for some reason, ended up imploding without warning, and she’d been unceremoniously summoned by a brat of a god in attempts to figure out what had happened and why.

“How soon until your jester returns?” she pried, trying to ignore the now steady stream of blood pouring from her nose. Oh, how she loathed Memorian magic. 

“Soon,” the Sadist answered. If he was trying to avoid the conversation as to why his glyph to keep her trapped was failing, it wasn’t going to work forever. “You are-”

“Fine,” she spat. “Never better. Focus. How far did the blast reach?”

“Eighty four kilometers in every direction.” That number came with the sight of teeth, and from a beast she was very, very familiar with. Blood ran down just a touch more quickly. If the wolf has chosen a side, your issues are going to become much, much worse. “What can you tell me about what happened?”

Aisling grew quiet, thinking. There wasn’t much benefit to lying; there was even less to telling the truth. He’d assume the truth to be a lie regardless. And that little show of power trick he so often did- it wouldn’t work. Ronan was too far lost in the threads to be able to be controlled. Callian leaned too much towards his father’s side of everything for such spells to work. 

And he was barely able to hold her.

So, really, he was sitting on nothing. After about twenty seconds, she tried, “Between the faultline due south and the bombing the government-aligned Horrors managed to pull off, it was only a matter of time. I cannot see clearly into your home realm, but whatever it was that destabilized your gate came from there. Someone was supposed to inform you of a natural disaster of sorts, but either couldn’t or forgot.”

A half truth, and a series of half lies. Aisling knew next to nothing about Memoria other than the unsavory practices of its cults and upper classes. She did, however, know for certain that many gates unintentionally fell on fault lines. It followed the standards of safety for the realm; isolated, and either entirety or partially underground. Lest an implosion take out a city block.

For a brief second, the spell did an odd, half webbing thing, before relaxing. He bought it. Maybe not entirely, but enough to be satisfied. “The government-aligned Horrors are not above selling their own to labs,” she warned, tapping a finger against the side of her face. “Unless you wish for much more successful toxins to be developed, might I humbly advise you to swallow your pride and get the Horrors trapped in rubble out.”

A slight huff, and an odd, half shrug. Something along the lines of I understand if she knew the subtle body languages of his kin right. A shame his mother didn’t raise him- Amara might’ve been able to teach him to read and use the threads, even if neither were seers. Though knowing his father…

Maybe it really was for the best. 

Listless eyes turned to the door. “Remind me again,” Aisling pressed after a moment, brow furrowing. “Which one did you send east?”

If the door hadn’t opened, he might’ve actually answered in earnest. Wheezing, and hunched over was the self proclaimed Shepard and Prophet, clawing at the mask covering his face like it was posion. “Gas,” he managed, before coughing violently. The Sadist stood immediately. “They-they dropped- it’s gas.”

“Who?” the god-kin demanded almost immediately. 

“Guess,” the Oracle spat in response. “Undo the spell and I’ll do what I can in the east- you need to get to the west to make sure they don’t use the train to transport anyone.”

------

The Forest- in a way- had the benefit of existing outside of the normal flow of time: attacks from the outside took days to fully affect the deepest reaches of it. But like all places outside the standard of time, once it did, it was devastating. By the time Toby had managed to clear his airway and scramble to find a more appropriate mask, the gas had consumed the entirety of the clearing. 

Aisling had no proper words to describe the scene. Whoever had designed the drug had done so with the express purpose of it hitting Horrors and Horrors alone: it warped their own regeneration into a slow, agonizing thing, and actively attacked their muscular functions. Meaning most would be too weak to fight back, and those that were able to would find that their normally accelerated healing was turning against them. 

“How many reside here?” she asked after a moment. 

“A rough two dozen?” was the nonreassuring estimate. How the hell is it that I have better control over my people than you? That fell firmly into the category of things she would not say out loud. Especially not when the most delusional devoted of the Horrors was standing by her side, twitching and fussing with his gloves and goggles incessantly. “How-how are we supposed to get them back? I can carry maybe three at once but-”

“Shortcut.”

“What?” Without answering, she drove her glaive into the snow, and dragged a straight line. Glyphs moved automatically, and she simply pointed. Toby did something that felt like a very trained response of just simply smiling and nodding before hopping down, and quickly moving over to the first building. “Hey!”

“Fuck off, Shepard!” the shriek from inside was, and Aisling chuckled. 

“Breathe, lass- it’s me you gotta worry about, not him. Can you move all your limbs?”

A pause. Toby managed to wedge his arm under the collapsed door, and pushed it up. “I can’t feel my legs,” the Horror finally answered, very quietly. She was wheezing, but not as bad as the Shepherd had been when he first arrived. Which meant either twiddle dee got a face full of the gas, or it affected Proxies differently. Which was a completely different can of worms. 

Wordlessly, the door was traded off between hands, and he crawled under. The Oracle tried to listen, but there wasn’t much to listen to other than frantic wheezes and coughs throughout the settlement. She could see two other cabins. And assuming that the Forest had eaten a national park or two in its natural expansion, that meant they could hold anywhere from two to, say, ten people. If Theo was present…

Well. It wasn’t an if. She knew that. Even if she’d stopped bleeding, there was still an gnawing itch from that piece of her soul that she’d traded. Chances were, he’d already landed on top of the Memorian. 

Poor fucker.

“Did the explosion cause an avalanche?” she asked as the two Horrors crawled out. One limping. 

“Yeah, that-that sounds about right,” the dirty blonde answered, heaving for a moment. “Sorry your first visit here was shitty, stranger. I promise we’re better kept.”

“Are you well enough to help, lamb?” Toby pressed.

“I won’t be able to carry, but I can lift.”

“Good enough. Let’s keep going.”

@whumperless-whump-event

@world-of-horrors-au (I Enjoy putting Toby in Situations)

[littlesparklight]

Desiring Helen / Helen as the lover

The ideas of women and sex - and women's relationship to sex, wasn't a sexless creature who suffered man's attention upon her. It was (just as unfortunately but in a different way) that of basically a sex monster, driven by desire. But she wasn't supposed to let this rule her (now, neither were men, but of course the pressures and expectations are somewhat different between them). Wasn't supposed to let it show - a "good" woman didn't seek it out, didn't express want of it, married or not. And, of course, she wasn't supposed to sleep with anyone but her husband, before or after she married.

A lot of our (especially early, but hardly exclusively) sources on Helen and her desires, or lack thereof, and what she wanted or not, lean into that she did want Paris. That she left of her own free will, and thus is the realization of all the most terrible stereotypes of women and their desire for sex. Of course, Aphrodite is involved, but in what way, and how this was portrayed - we don't know. The Kypria would be the oldest source that actually showed "on screen" how it all went down, but there are only fragments, and none of them that show us this part. All we have is Proclus' summary which uses language not of force, or any mention of unwillingness.

There's also often the quirk of a lot of the sources to say "she was taken" but at the same time also say "she left". Euripides' Iphigenia in Aulis is a good example, which uses both of these languages, but also says "in mutual desire" when it comes to what Paris and Helen did.

The Iliad uses ambiguous to neutral language in narrative, and Helen herself says several times she "left" and "followed". Of course, like Blondell in her book Helen of Troy points out, one can be coerced into leaving "willingly", but if she was taken entirely against her will both the narrative and Helen could be using language that spells that out. The active words matter, I'd say.

In Helen and Aphrodite's confrontation, you get Aphrodite describing Paris to Helen - he's the (sexual and sex) object here, not Helen herself, and Helen's reaction is her heart being "incited" [to some sort of re/action]. Early ancient commentators often used varying levels of allegory quite often on the Iliad, which meant that on the "harshest" end of it, there is only Helen fighting with herself and her own desires, and losing. On the milder, there is both Helen and Aphrodite, but Aphrodite is still also a reflection of Helen's desires - and again she loses. Both to the actual goddess and her threats, and to herself.

Nancy Worman in Body as Argument points out that one of Helen's protests about going to Paris in that scene isn't a lack of desire for him or a denial of his attractiveness, but a concern of public shame for going. What Helen chooses to say then says as much as what she doesn't say. In the Iliad, Helen then wants Paris as much as she also is unhappy with him/his actions - my own interpretation given what she says to Hektor is that her anger is very much aligned with Hektor's. It's not so much about what Paris did in getting her to Troy (willing or unwilling), but that he fails to act as he ought, with her in Troy and an army on Troy's shores.

Sappho in fr. 16 has Helen as the subject, the actor. Her desire [for Paris] is what matters, so much so that Paris himself isn't named and is, quite literally, the not-present sex object of Helen's desire that she leaves Sparta for.

When Helen is thus blamed, she isn't being blamed for having been kidnapped and raped; she's being blamed in her capacity as an acting subject who had the agency to do something blameworthy. (Worth pointing out is that whether or not Helen is blamed, Paris always is when he is mentioned. His responsibility/guilt in what he/they did is unquestionable and any blame on Helen is basically always attached with an invisible "in addition to" blame of Paris.)

I think reading the Iliad as presenting Helen's feelings as mingled anger and regret coupled with an insistent attraction to and desire for Paris is so very interesting.

The lover, desiring, fighting herself and losing. Helen as the lover, the actor and subject at all, instead of the beloved, the object, the one whose desires and wants doesn't matter. Of course, as Helen is a woman, her desires and wants in regards to what is happening during the war actually doesn't matter. Which is, personally, why I even more would rather have her as desiring and wanting, even if she regrets.

(The first screencap up there is from The Justice of Aphrodite in Sappho Fr. 1 by Anne Giacomelli ; the second screencap is The Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite: Erotic "Ananke" by Hugh Parry)

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Det sted man er fra er alltid pent, det er fedrelandsfølelsen i det små, hjemmefølelsen.*

- Knut Hamsun

*The place you're from is always beautiful, it's the sense of country in a small way, the feeling of home.

Most of us have heard of Lapland, but we’re not supposed to call it that anymore. The correct term these days is Sápmi - i.e. the land inhabited by the Lapps (or, rather, the Sami - as they very much prefer to be known). And, fair enough: they’ve got every right to assert their own identity, especially after centuries of domination by their southern neighbours.

Some of those neighbours are now keen to make amends for past injustices. For instance, the Swedish government made a point of using its presidency of the EU Council of Ministers to celebrate Sami National Day.

I can only imagine that it was worded with the best intentions, but if you read any of the Scandinavian press and media, it’s clear that it hasn’t gone down well with everyone. The problematic claim is that the Sami are “the EU’s only indigenous people” (my italics).

For a start, what is meant here by ‘indigenous’? According to most dictionaries, it’s the property of being original to, or characteristic of, a particular part of the world. In which case, there are all sorts of European peoples who could claim to be indigenous to Europe. For instance, the geneticist Razib Khan points out that the ancestors of today’s majority-Swedish population have been in Scandinavia for at least as long as the ancestors of today’s Sami.

The Norwegians and Swedes originated from the Norse people. The Norse people in turn originated from the Proto-Germanic peoples who migrated to the area of northern Germany, Denmark, southern Scandinavia. The Proto-Germanic peoples in turn originated from the Proto-Indo-European people whose homeland lies in the Pontic-Caspian steppe, the area around Ukraine and southern Russia.

Likewise, the Sami are not quite indigenous to the area either. The Sami originated from the Proto-Uralic people, whose homeland was around the Ural mountains (and was therefore close to the Proto-Indo-Europeans and resulted in interactions between their protolanguages, resulting in lexical borrowings). The Proto-Uralic peoples, just like the Proto-Indo-Europeans, slowly expanded and migrated, but in their case they expanded to the northwest and the northeast (with the notable exception of the Hungarians who ended up in Hungary). The Proto-Samic people, a subgroup of the Proto-Uralic peoples that gave rise to the modern Sami, were said to have displaced or merged with a much earlier indigenous Paleo-European group that was already in northern Scandinavia. This is evidenced by substrate words present in the Sami languages that derive neither from Proto-Uralic nor from Proto-Indo-European.

In any case, if Europeans are going to have a competition as to who was in Europe first, then it might be won by those with the most Neanderthal ancestry - because, as genomic testing has revealed, millions of us carry Neanderthal genes.

But perhaps the Swedish government is using indigenous to mean something more specific. According to Merriam-Webster the word relates to “the earliest known inhabitants of a place and especially of a place that was colonised by a now-dominant group”. This extra element of oppression by outsiders sharpens up the definition. However, while it applies to the Sami people and their history, it doesn’t do so uniquely. There are many ethnic groups in Europe that have been around for ages and which have been maltreated by foreign overlords. Just ask the Welsh, for instance, or the Basques.

It could be argued that the Sami are in a special category because of where they live (i.e. the most northerly reaches of Europe) and how they lived there (e.g. by reindeer herding). To have maintained a traditional culture for so long into the modern era surely sets them apart. But, again, this is debatable. While there’s no doubting the distinctiveness of the Sami, other Europeans can also lay claim to ancient traditions that have survived against the odds. To take a topical example, the Ukrainians are literally sacrificing their lives for a distinctive culture, language and history that Putin wants to erase.

Progressives ought to think twice before making an issue about who is and isn’t indigenous in Europe. While the label might play into the victim/oppressor narratives of the woke Left, it can also be exploited by the far-Right.

At a time when populism is a constant threat, telling people that they’re not indigenous to a place where they and their ancestors have lived for “time immemorial” is less than helpful. I’m sure that the Swedish government meant well, but it’s pulling on a dangerous thread.  

When language is allowed to become dissociated from meaning or the map from the territory, then fractional strife and chaos awaits. Orwell understood it perfectly from his observations of Stalinists: control language and you control expression; control expression, you control dialogue, and eventually the political narrative.

[bi-demon-ium]

SEASON TWO POSITIVITY POST!

listen there's so much negativity going around and like. i actually really liked this season!! so!!!

the "okay, but" section

okay, so curtain's redemption arc was extremely rushed. BUT

a) i love where it's left us. curtain working on their team--and indeed him actually saying the words "i'm joining the society"--is going to be wonderful to see, and we'll be getting more of one of my favorite dynamics in the show, namely, the twins. and hopefully curtain being funny with more of the other characters.

b) although i suppose this is all assuming we get a season three at all (which i still have fingers crossed for) i would hope that as rushed as it feels now, we would have more time to breathe with it in s3--reckon with a post-redemption curtain and what his relationship with the others looks like, particularly the ones he's hurt the most, and also, number two & rhonda, now that they've "stepped into a leadership role". like that all sounds really interesting and engaging!!! rich content i want to know more!!!!

c) it was also just like. the SCENES!!! god it was heart-wrenching. again, where we ended up: what curtain said out loud, multiple hugs (!!!!) + curtain's hilarious then mildly heartbreaking interactions with jeffers&co + jackson&jillson,,,,, plus just his entertaining reactions/expressions to everything like them all aggressively reciting poetry at constance and its just lik [LIVE CURTAIN REACTION] lkgjfghfgh and then mr benedict's super passionate cross-language performance and curtains just like [visibly despairing] like you have no room to talk mr. stole the solo at the orphanage then aggressively recited shakespeare.

and like i think his dynamic with mr. benedict was especially good. even his reaction i was totally fine with (the panicking and lowkey breakdown--it was a little cheesy and even a bit unnerving seeing him finally lose it but i was like oughhhh) it's more the "aight. im good now ig" right after and just giving up. (it does make me wonder if it's actually another evil plot of some sort--which would be heart-wrenching, particularly if s3 is full of them bonding and then curtain realizing he doesn't want to betray him anymore but then whatever his plans were are revealed at a key moment.... i don't think is going to happen but fun speculation!) but like BEFORE that. oughhhhh that whole scene..... and the fact he was FAKING it.... and curtains justl ike [NOT CRYING SHUT UP] well. that was. a very devious plan. i have to respect it.

okay, so this whole "eurus benedict"/secret sister thing is fucking weird and terrible. BUT

okay first of all you can't deny that this is extremely funny

it is extremely funny and i desperately want to see where they're going with this

is she just going to be book curtain with tits.

(this would perhaps be a chance to explore some of the themes/ideas from the books now that we have an evil/bad sibling neither of them knew as a child?)

DOES SHE HAVE SQ. DLFKGJ HI IM YOUR AUNT :)

so like. this one also, as ridiculous as it is, has a lot of plot potential. the twins bonding, how each of them might relate to this sister differently (maybe it will ironically be nicholas not trusting her and curtain relating to her, after so long of nicholas reaching out to a long lost sibling), what she thinks of them, and particularly curtain's ex(?) supervillainy considering she's apparently going down that route...

does she also have narcolepsy? plot twist, book curtain thing again, she has sunglasses and a wheelchair and anger issues. and just for flavor maybe curly hair.

is she the older sister? younger? triplet? so many questions

this could really go off the rails and even if it ends up being bad i think it will be an extremely entertaining trainwreck

okay, so there were some other problems (like sq just being fuckign missing dfkjhghfgh) BUT

sq being missing i'm mostly blaming on the change in filming location. while i'm not pleased with that, i will say

a) i'm so sorry to be heartless but it IS ONCE AGAIN KIND OF VERY FUNNY

HES JUST ON A WALK<3

LIKE OKAY

b) while i wish they'd worked around the actor's absence better than that one line, it didn't ruin my enjoyment of the season. the plot was still coherent. i missed him, but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

same with the shorter episode times. i don't think this is something that they could help, and that makes me feel a little better about it, weirdly.

adaptation blues

i am gently holding you by the shoulders. listen to me. listen, beloved. you need to understand that this is now sort of its own thing now. if s3 comes it will probably be nothing like book 3 and that's okay. the characters are different, the changes they've already made have butterfly effect/branched off and now we're looking at a whole new picture and that's good. it's okay. deep breaths with me

honestly with the changes this season, i loved it! i'm into it!

really it's less a direct adaptation of book 2 and more like. its own thing (AGAIN. ITS OWN THING. THATS OKAY) with some easter eggs and nods to the books, particularly in the first few episodes. probably because again, changes made in s1 (which i ADORED) meant a lot of book 2 would no longer work

but i really liked the plot that was here!!! curtain's cult + the "Happiness" is absolutely terrifying, engaging the whole way through, and very good material for fic. i like miss perumal's continued presence as a character who actually does things, i like number two's weird/mildly rushed background story, everything with mr. benedict's story both about being whammied and his struggle to gain perspective when faced with his brother. i can see why some people aren't fans of kate and milligan's new story but personally i like it and think it fits them well. and constance!!!! martina!!! dr garrisons full mcfuckingbreakdown!!!! captain noland--and CANNONBALL MY BELOVED. he was so funny and i love him so much

like for me, if i want to read the book, i'll read the book. i love the roots this show has in the books, but i also love the characters that have grown from them, and want to see them grow more rather than be forced into a shape that's more like the originals.

all positivity, baby!

okay first of all this season was funny as hell. there were countless moments that were just so fucking good and hysterical. flower delivery. jackson and jillson tackling a bitch. constance's malicious therapy. dr garrison's doll. everything about jeepers. the gambling. the taxi driver. very exclusive list of traitors. miss perumal's grand theft motorcycle. what does the blueberry represent?! etc. the humor was spot on it was all HILARIOUS

the dialogue was generally the same perfect flavor of offbeat charm

the characters and relationships continue to be vibrant, engaging, and just generally soooo good. the side characters continue to be hilarious but also important to the plot (dr garrison, martina, jackson and jillson, jeepers, etc) while the main characters all have things to do (reynie and his struggles with both feeling needy and morality, sticky and boatwright academy, constance and her past, kate and her dad, mr benedict and his brother, miss perumal and both reynie and milligan, rhonda and the mission and general + number two, number two and her family + relationship with mr benedict, etc) and their interactions are always fun to watch

plus, again, some great developments, particularly with the kids and with the twins

i just had fun????? i mean i was super anxious but i'm like that any time i watch a show with suspense

but it was like it was fun! it was fun!

but it was also emotional in the right places!!!

and the ending!!!! not the very ending but just before that, with reynie getting his letters, and everyone vibing!!! my heart is full!!!!!!

i feel like i have more to say but i just can't put it to words like idk bro! i just liked it! it was rushed but it was good overall! there are very few things i straight up don't like! it's fun! i want to write ten thousand million words of fanfiction!

please!!! add on things you liked about this season/the show in general!!! positivity time, babey!