#sometimes wasps and stuff

[fractoluminescence]

WAIT NO THERE ARE EUROPEANS THAT ARE ANTI-SCREENS?? STOP IT GUYS YOU'RE GIVING US A BAD REP 😭😭😭

I continue to run into people that are confused as to why Americans have screens on our windows and it’s really quite simple.

Bugs

Diseases carried by bugs

Other assorted wildlife such as dogs and teenagers

[juniusgirl]

I have too much damn ambition and drive to do fun and interesting things for a guy who needs a 2 hour minimum nap every day.

[tjerra14]

just got yelled at by an adolescent magpie perched on my windowsill, not sure what that was about

[the-strange-creature]

wait wait wait wait wait is praying mantises on your list of liked bugs I need to know

YESS!! I THINK THEY'RE VERY COOL!!

I don't think I know a whole lot about them, but they're great, I love how it looks like they have pupils

Heres A collection of of photos the little drama queens I found a while ago (screenshotted from the discord channel I put them in)

My sona was originally based off of them, but since then I've taken inspiration from other insects (I sadly don't have any current photos of him, it's name is bug :3)

[arachnerd-8-legs]

ugh, the wording on gaud's spider rain post is not at all helpful for the discussion around spiders and spider phenomena. reading about stuff where it's clear the author doesn't like them is exhausting at best

[zevrra]

—𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [⋆｡°✩]

syn: just some random sfw & nsfw hc’s i have for jayce and viktor from arcane!!

includes: gn!reader, 18(+) only, fluff, established relationships, mention of kïnks, mention of drinking/being drunk

extra(s): may flesh these out a little more at some point but these are just little thoughts i’ve had in my head recently AAA (check out my other arcane stuff if you enjoy <3)

JAYCE

a heavy sleeper!! can sleep through all 11 alarms he’s set(they’re all set 5 mins apart) but when he does finally wake up he’s somehow a morning person…wakes up full of energy and ready to start the day

drinks black coffee straight up. no sugar or cream and hates the taste but says it helps him “wake up”

sleeps in just boxers

a light WEIGHT!! it takes a total of 2 drinks before he’s buzzed. his max is probably 6 drinks before he’s almost black out drunk

takes 2 hour long showers

hums! he hums aaaalllll the time just anywhere and everywhere! is always humming some kind of tune

when he’s nervous he bites his lips

runs so so hot! like is a natural heater and is constantly warm so he prefers winter over summer

also packs on some weight during the winter like a bear getting ready to hibernate (he hates it, you LOVE IT)

i feel like he LOVES to swim

book smart not so much street smarts

is terrified of insects, specifically wasps (isn’t allergic he just thinks they’re the spawn of satan)

secretly dislikes most sweets. he doesn’t mind them but he wouldn’t reach for sweets over salty snacks if they’re offered

oh he looooooves spicy food!

pet name king. loves calling you everything but your name. especially enjoys calling you “baby” or “babe”

physical touch is 100% his love language!! keeps his hands on your waist or your back he just enjoys touching so much

clingy

clean and perfect handwriting

he’s also either a really good cook or a really bad one i can’t decide jshsjsjd

when he has a bad day he droops like a little rain cloud but is so easy to cheer up

has two left feet and dances for shit (does it anyway because he enjoys it)

is a whole ray of sunshine; laughs with his whole chest, smiles just as bright as the sun, always looking on the bright side of things

[—NSFW BELOW]

obedient asf!!

literally loves being told what to do and how good he makes you feel

is the definition of service top

THRIVES OFF PRAISE!

stamina goes CRAZY, takes some pretty good build up before he comes

100% is a munch

he loves coming home, shutting off his brain from being at the lab for too long, and sitting between your thighs while he makes you feel good

begs for you to sit on his face

begs in general all day every day for it though

“pleaseee pretty… let’s just sneak away…��

says please so much it’s incorporated in his everyday vocabulary

loves kissing too

wild rutting thrusts, fast and rough reaching the deepest parts of you with ease

list of kinks i think he would have; public outings, bareback, begging (receiving or giving), marking (hickies), püssy/cöck worshipping, size kink, breeding, exhibitionism, face sitting/fucking, somno (w/consent!), and sqüirtïng

is huge and he knows it

thick at the base, keeps his girth until the very tip, where he’s a light brownish-pink. veiny and girthy; 7.5 inches

VIKTOR

rarely EVER sleeps (at most he sleeps for prob 5 ish hours every night) but when he does it’s never in an actual bed; says sleeping anywhere else is more comfortable than a bed

a light sleeper for sure, he def wakes up at every little noise and it drives him nuts

is NOT a morning person. he wakes up groggy and irritated before he morning coffee

always asks for “five more minutes” when he needs to get up

either he sleeps in the clothes he wore the day before or when he actually changes he wears a t-shirt and swaps between shorts or actual sleep pants

sometimes needs to be reminded to eat because he gets so focused on working in the lab he forgets to eat a lot

is actually a decent cook! can make basic and simple dishes but nothing extraordinary

drinks very rarely and when he does it takes him chugging liquor to get drunk

messy but pretty handwriting (only he can read it)

a blanket HOG! he has to be fully wrapped up in at least 2 blankets before he can get comfortable enough to sleep

always runs cold and favors summer over winter!

it just gives you a nice excuse to hold his hand out in public

will drop something on purpose just so he can bend over and struggle to pick it up then act like you’re being mean to him jshshfk

will hit you with his cane if you ask him a stupid question

has the BIGGEST SWEET TOOTH

secretly snuck candy whenever he could growing up so now he constantly has it on him

says it helps him focus if he has a little bit of sugar

is actually packed full with sarcasm and makes so many sarcastic comments throughout the day

doodles when he’s trying to figure out an equation

his pet names for you consist more of “my love” or “darling”

his love language is quality time and gift giving (while he HATES receiving gifts)

writes you notes and leaves them around everywhere for you to accidentally stumble across and see

if you manage to get him to accept a gift, he uses/takes it everywhere with him

[—NSFW BELOW]

is a power bottom!

loves it when you dress up for him

SENSITIVE KING

oh he’s so sensitive, especially around his thighs

comes so so so easily (but can go several times in a row)

like a little handjob and some kissing could have him weak in the palm of your hand

well placed, slow, and methodical thrusts. never misses and it always leaves you breathless.

after a really good night spent together is about the only time he’ll ever sleep comfortably in a bed (next to you of course)

would try ANYTHING once

is not shy when it comes to telling you when he wants to fuck

will grab you by the waist with his cane and pull you closer to him just to tell you he wants you sitting in his lap right now

gives me a lil bit of a brat vibes

“why don’t you try asking nicely darling.”

list of kïnks i think he would be into: dacryphilia, edging, overstimulation, choking, blindfolds, biting/marking, degradation/praise, püssy/cöck worshipping, oral, cüm play, roleplay (secretly loves professor/teacher stuff)

not as thick as jayce but he makes up for it with length, pale until the tip where he’s a pretty pink. slightly curved upwards, 6 inches

[oldwritingm]

Thinking thoughts about these guys again

Creepypasta/MH - Things That Make Them Think of You

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Clockwork, Nina the Killer, Tim/Masky, "Ticci" Toby

Jeff the Killer

Violence. Specifically, committing it

I know that sounds bad, but he gets so high off of that stuff

The adrenaline rushing through his veins, the wild smile that comes to his face, the noise, the sights... it's euphoria for him

And when he reaches his peak, endorphins at maximum saturation, that's when he thinks of you

It's almost like he subconsciously asks himself if there's anything in the world that could make him happy like this, and his subconscious responds by conjuring an image of you

As if he couldn't get any happier, thinking of you just pushes him higher

This happens a lot...

He'll be killing someone, already over the moon, then he'll blast to Mars when he thinks of you

And he starts associating you with violence; even if you're the gentlest person in the world

It's the happiness it brings him that links it to you

Though if you're a psycho (affectionate) like him, there might be another reason he associates it with you lol

It just gets worse over time; eventually he can't even see other people committing violent acts without thinking of you

He'll be watching a horror movie, and blood will splatter the screen and he'll be like: Nice. Y/n's nice too. Y/n... <3

Jane the Killer

Quite the opposite of Jeff; it's the quiet moments that get her thinking of you

(my reasoning is confusing but I'll try my best to explain T-T)

And there are two reasons for this

One, because whenever she gets a moment to think to herself, her brain always wants to think of you first

Maybe it's just hunting that hit of dopamine it gets when she imagines your smile, or the way your hands feel in hers...

Or maybe it's just that it's become a habit for her to think of you so often, so it's second-nature that she does so when she gets the chance

But the second reason is that she loves peace, and you are her peace :)

She's a vengeful person with a lot of turmoil inside, so when her environment is peaceful, she tries to follow suit

She's just taking what she can get before she has to go back to hate and obsession

So she imagines the peaceful things in her life

Namely, you

Even if you're not a very peaceful person, she feels at ease when she's with you

So, when it's quiet, she thinks of you to quiet herself

Memories of forehead touches and holding hands are more than enough to fill the silence :)

Clockwork

Literally everything.

I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but Clockwork will find the most random things that remind her of you

She’s got a very creative mind; she can find the subtlest of things that make her think of you

Oftentimes they’ll be disturbing things…. Like a dead animal or smth

But she gets a little smile when she thinks of you anyway :)

She’ll probably send you a picture of whatever it was that reminded her of you

So you’ll just get a text out of nowhere like:

[picture of a dead wasp] “thought of you <3”

After a while you’ll learn to just not ask

Because you’ll definitely get one of these texts AT LEAST every other day, if not every day

Sometimes they’re actually nice things though! Like a song or a pretty sunset :)

Or something she saw while shopping that made her think of you; she always makes sure to steal …obtain those things

And ofc she gifts them to you 😌

Nina the Killer

I think it depends on your aesthetic

To me, Nina is someone who’s very in tune with aesthetics

Even if yours is super niche, or it doesn’t fit under a specific category like “emo” or “butch” or even “clowncore,” she’s got it DOWN

And so it’s always things that fit your aesthetic that make her think of you

Maybe it’s a view: a dark forest, a bright sunset in your favorite color, a sunny park, an eerily empty sidewalk…

Maybe it’s clothing: pants, shirts, dresses, jackets… always the exact kind of thing you’d wear :)

Maybe it’s music: she listens to music like. All the time. So she’s definitely at least dipped her toes into a genre that’s so totally you

Or maybe it’s something miscellaneous: a pop tart flavor, a blanket, a picture, the color on a soda dispenser…

No matter what it is, you’re guaranteed to love it

She always manages to surprise you with yet another random thing perfectly suited to your aesthetic

And she’s always on the hunt for more >;)

If it’s something she can physically bring to you, you best believe she will though

And if you decide you hate it (you won’t, but maybe later when your aesthetic changes), you guys light a bonfire and burn it together :)

Tim/Masky

It’s a Polaroid picture of you

He’s not in the picture; it’s just you

The flash is on, illuminating you and leaving the background in dark obscurity

He took it himself one night when he was just enamored with the way you looked

He did it casually, just telling you to look at the camera

The rest was all you; maybe you smiled, maybe you threw up a peace sign…

Whatever you did, he felt it captured your essence perfectly

He stared at the photo for a long time after it came out, and he still stares at it frequently

He carries it deep in his wallet where no one can find it

He’ll pull it out when he needs to think of you, usually when he’s especially down

Which is pretty often, my boy is troubled :(

He’ll trace his fingers around the edges, remembering that night

Your voice fills his ears, your scent fills his nose, and suddenly he’s aching to see you in person again

And he will; he’ll probably call or text you soon :)

“Ticci” Toby

Honestly? Probably something super obscure related to some kind of inside joke between you two

I’ll paint an example

Maybe you two were in the kitchen together, and you wanted him to get out the milk for you

But you ended up calling it a “mug of jilk” instead of a “jug of milk”

Toby, of course, bursts into laughter

He teases you for ages afterwards, calling milk “jilk” and always pointing out jugs of milk with a knowing grin

You’re in on it too though

You always snicker whenever he does those things

Maybe that’s why it becomes so special to him; it amuses the both of you

He gets to laugh and hear you laugh :D

So (in this case) he’ll think of you whenever he sees a mug of j (oh gosh oh no you guys got me too) jug of milk

And he probably takes pictures to send you too

You’ll just get a text that says “jilk mugs spotted ‼️” and a picture of the milk aisle at the grocery store

He likes to imagine your laugh when he sends texts like those :)

Thank you so much for reading!! Take care my lovey doves <33

(divider by saradika)

[revelboo]

Damn it Revel! You got me addicted to the Insecticin boys and now look! Now I have Insecticons! Oh and not just these three! Wasp (TFA Transformers Legacy Wasp) is coming Wednesday!

They’re absolute gremlins

Worker Bee Pt 27

Waspinator x Reader

• “Thank you. That’s super helpful,” you mutter, taking away the container of frosting and bag of frozen peas he’s holding out. And he just beams and turns to find more stuff to help you cook breakfast, because sarcasm goes right over his bug head. You’re not even remotely hungry but you need something to distract yourself after the shock of not only sleeping with your weird alien wasp puppy, but that the sex was mind blowing. Though that could have been the drugging effect of his saliva. Alien roofie spit hadn’t been on your bingo card.

• Antenna back as he clears his vents, wings flicking at the stink of your food cooking, he looks for more food stuffs to offer you. “Waspinator best mate.” Preening as you turn and look at him, he flares out his wings slightly for you. And you arch your brows at him, almost smiling.“Waspinator good mate?”

• Grimacing at that word, mate, you try to figure out how to explain to him that you’re not his mate and a repeat of last night isn’t happening. Period. Awesome, toe-curling, mind shattering sex or not. “Wasp, sweetie, we’re not mates.” Turning your bacon as his antenna and wings droop to make you feel immediately guilty, you sigh. But with how he deliberately misunderstands you sometimes, painfully blunt is best. “What happened last night? That was a mistake.” And he’s just staring at you with big optics, making you wonder if he understands or if he’s off in his own little world.

• Fidgeting his servos, his wings flick. A mistake? “Waspinator bad?” Always making mistakes, getting in trouble. Unwanted. “Trying.” Trying so hard for you, to be helpful, to take care of you. So you’ll let him love you, hold you. Wants to belong to someone that wants him around. “Try harder.” Hooking his arms around you, he drags you into him. Wrapping himself around you. He can do better. Be better. Be whatever you need him to be.

• Why does he always make this so hard? Make you feel like the bad guy? Reaching up, you lay your palm on his arm as he presses his face against your neck. He’s sweet and that dumb optimism of his wears down your resistance. Makes you want to just go along with him because it’s easier. Sleeping with him was a mistake. A moment of euphoric weakness like the way your stomach does a little flip when he wraps his servos around your fingers and nuzzles more firmly against your neck with a whine. Because he just wants to be loved and wanted. And you understand that too well, but an alien bug husband isn’t exactly what you envisioned when you pictured the big house and white picket fence in your daydreams.

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[metaphorfordeath]

Anti-Psychotic

A person living with schizophrenia finds that their delusions may have more basis in reality than they thought. Originally published in the Fall/Winter II issue of Diet Milk Magazine, available here. Content warnings for depiction of psychosis, violence, ableist language.

No one is watching me.

Julie has me write that down at our session. She never listens to me. She says, it can be comforting to realize that people don’t think of you as much as you think they do. I know this already. She asks, what evidence do you have that you are being watched? I say there isn’t any. Just a feeling. She writes something down, and asks about my meds again. 

So fucking patronizing. Of course I take them. I have taken mine like clockwork, every day, for five years. Maybe I missed a few days, but who doesn’t forget sometimes. My meds are cleat spikes jabbing into the earth. Helping me keep my footing. Making sure I don’t slip.

Last week I started getting the prickle again. Like fingers up my back. Someone standing behind me, breathing. I live alone. When I felt it, I wasn’t scared at first. These things happen sometimes. I’ve been around the block. The prickle and I are old friends, practically. When it finds me, I have ways to forget it. 

I drew the blinds, which helped a bit. I had a drink—nobody's perfect—but the prickle didn’t dull. So I peeked through the shades at the street below. Normal street stuff. The sun was setting, painting the world in shades of fire. Cars went by, all the usuals. Some kids were yelling in a driveway. A wasp tapped at my window, wiggling its feelers at me. No obvious source for the prickle. So, probably nothing. For the rest of the evening I puttered, read my book, ate some frozen nothing heated in the microwave, and took my meds. The prickle was temporary, I told myself as I lay down to sleep, the usual fog settling over me in a cool, clammy layer. No one was watching me. No one ever is.

That was a week ago. It’s only gotten worse since then. The prickle turned into a terrified stomach ache that kept me up for nights and nights. I called in sick to group, told Cheryl the caseworker that I have the flu. She sounded alarmed, but she’s only worried because of what happened to Devin.

Devin was like me: good at meds, good at therapy. We were friends, in a psycho kind of way. A few weeks ago, Devin started to get bad. Stopped showing up to group, didn’t even call. I haven’t seen him in a while, even when I went looking for him in his usual bad places. I miss him. I told Cheryl not to worry. I’m steady, just sick. I’ll see her again soon. 

I keep taking my meds, but they aren’t helping like they should. The fog I count on to sleep is thin, or missing. Something scrabbles at my skin from underneath, and I keep catching myself scratching little bits off of me. When I lay down, a low, neutral voice whispers nonsense at me through the pillow I clamp over my head. I can’t shower; that’s when the prickle gets stronger. Someone standing on the other side of the shower curtain, someone looking down at me through the water stain on the ceiling. I hiss and babble out loud just to hear myself talk, to shut up the voices that aren’t mine. I get sicker by the day.

By now I haven’t been outside in over a week, but my meds are ready to pick up. I don’t want to miss a dose, so I put on shoes and the big jacket that makes me feel safe, and I go outside. Birds leer at me from the tops of buildings. Walking in the opposite direction, an old lady frowns at me.

“Hmph, same to you,” she snaps.

My stomach lurches, but I don’t say anything, just keep walking. I hadn’t spoken. Had I? 

The drug store is brightly lit. It hurts to be inside. Too many things to look at. Faces on packaging look strange now. Confrontational. Interrogative. But at least they look like faces. When I look at anyone real, their features shift. Static snow eats at the air around their heads in a halo. It frightens me, so I keep my eyes on my shoes. The pharmacy tech who’s always there gets the packet for me, rings it up.

“Any questions about your medication?” he asks. I shake my head, pay with a card. He has glasses that give his face a sort of stability, so I look at it. His eyes are brown, beard gray, no hair on his head. He smiles at me. “Have a nice day, miss.”

“You too,” I mutter.

And then I go home, have to stop myself from running for safety. The walk is twenty minutes each way; harrowing, the passing cars huge and hungry, huffing and snorting at me. The prickle is more than a prickle by now. It feels like someone is pulling out the hairs on the back of my neck, one by one. My heart thuds against my ribs so hard that I’m afraid it will burst out, plop on the sidewalk and keep throbbing without me. The paper bag with my pills turns damp and tattered in my sweaty hand. 

And getting home doesn’t even help this time.

Julie says too much TV can be a trigger for me, but I start leaving it on all the time. Noise beats silence, any day. No empty spaces that need filling. I can’t watch sitcoms or anything fictional, so I tune it to the news. The news is always. Steady, real, factual. There’s a story about a body they found by the freeway. Pushed out of a moving car. No one knows or cares who it was. There’s a picture of the scene, taped up yellow and covered in those little numbers that say where a bit of evidence is. A tattered jacket lays in a ditch, dark with blood. 

I stand and race to the bathroom, cool porcelain against my hands, bile and nothing coming up as sweat pours down my back. My head pounds, edges of my vision sparkling. I can only see the jacket. Not dirty or bloody or ruined but the way it used to look. Devin’s jacket.

Something is horribly wrong. Men-in-black wrong. The-end-is-nigh wrong. 

The prickle wasn’t imagination. It was intuition. 

Someone got Devin. Who else did they get before him?

---

The next week, I force myself to go to group. I need to see faces. See who else is there, or not. Cheryl picks me up for these, since I don’t drive. I’m sicker than I can remember being, and try to remember to ask Julie about my dose on Tuesday. I sit silently in the passenger seat, feeling Cheryl’s eyes on me. Caseworkers all have the same eyes.

“Feeling alright today, X?” 

My name isn’t the name she calls me. You don’t need to know it.

“Fine,” I say, pinching my hands between my knees. They shake if I don’t. “Still getting over that flu.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she says. Her sedan has beige fabric seats. The passenger seat is dark, stained with sweat and whatever else from all the people she’s ferried around. A vanilla air freshener dangles from the rear view mirror.

Someone shouts in my ear, so close I feel a little blast of hot breath on my neck, and I flinch. Cheryl looks at me suddenly.

“Everything okay?”

She didn’t hear that. “Yeah. Sorry. Weird itch.”

“Hmm.” 

Group is fine. It’s usually fine. I don’t say much this time, just look around at everyone in their folding chairs. Their faces are wrong. It makes me nauseous to look, but I look anyway. I need to see who isn’t here.

There are no empty chairs, but there are fewer. One or two down from usual. All the other regulars are here, picking at their skin or looking at the clock or chewing their hair. I glance across the room and for a second I think I see Devin, sitting in his old coat. But when I look again, it’s just Tom. I almost hoped.

When it’s over, there’s bad coffee to drink. I suck on a red straw and let the bitter taste anchor me to my tongue. I inhabit my body, touch my fingers to the side of my face to know that it and my fingers exist. Sufficiently convinced of my realness, I go to Amber, our de facto leader.

She’s drinking water from a bottle with cucumber slices in it, cloudy with pulp and seeds. Ectoplasmic. It makes my stomach turn.

“Amber,” I say. My voice feels far away. She looks at me, expectant. “I missed last week. Have you seen Greg, or Mariah?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t. Greg was here last week, but I haven’t seen Mariah since like, last month. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

A crinkle appears between her eyebrows. I focus on that, since the rest of her features won’t stay put. “You’re worried because of what happened to Devin?”

“I think Devin is dead.” There is a sudden hush as other people in my vicinity overhear. “I saw his jacket. On the news.”

Cheryl appears beside me. “X, would you like to talk in the hallway?” 

She pulls me out before I can answer. “Have you been feeling alright?” she asks again. “Taking your medication?”

“Yes,” I say, a little forcefully. She clicks her tongue.

“Really? Because if you need to move up your next appointment, I can make some arrangements for you.”

Despite the fact that I do want to move my appointment up, her tone hits a button in my brain and my face turns red. “No,” I say. “I’ll wait until the next one. I’m fine. I just need to know what’s happening.” A rancid taste creeps up the back of my throat. “Where are people going?”

“Honey, everyone’s here that needs to be here.”

“No—that’s not right. I need to know.” 

I can tell from the way she moves that she thinks I’m getting agitated. She doesn’t understand what I’m saying. “People call in sick sometimes. You did, just last week. Mariah was having issues sticking with the program, so we’re working something out. No one’s gone.”

“Devin is gone. Devin is dead. He’s dead and no one knows it.”

Cheryl comes closer, her voice so low and venomous that it starts to meld with the others. “I’m going to give Dr. Bern a call and try to get you in with her sooner than Tuesday. If you can’t keep up with your regimen, we’ll have to consider another in-patient stay.”

Anger chokes me until my vision goes white. “Okay,” is all I can manage. I have some unsavory thoughts, which I won’t repeat to you now.

“Good,” says Cheryl, holding my leash. “Let’s get you home.”

I don’t sleep. I don’t even try. Someone is watching me. I think about Devin, the last time we spoke before he was gone. He got paranoid, too. He jabbered sometimes, when we would see each other. The same face, he said, with glass eyes. Looking at him. Following him. He said his pills were replaced, his furniture moved, nothing looked the same as he’d left it. No one listens to me, he said. I’m scared, he said. I’m scared of what will happen next.

“I’m scared, too,” I say to no one. A chorus laughs at me. 

---

“So,” says Julie. “Cheryl told me you’ve been having some trouble sticking to your medication.”

“I stick to it,” I say, and set the pill bottle on the desk in front of her. “Count them and tell me I’m not.”

She doesn’t move to count them. I’d hoped at least that she would humor me. “It sounds like some of your persecutory thoughts are returning. Tell me about what you’re worried about.”

“I saw on the news that they found someone’s body in a ditch off the interstate. They showed pictures. I think the body was Devin.”

“Devin from your group?” I nod. “We actually just heard from him last week. His brother answered when we called his phone. Devin is currently in a private rehabilitation clinic in Cincinnati. He’s alright, X.”

A numb feeling falls over me all at once, like a sheet. Something crawls up my thigh and disappears into a deep hole in my flesh. “Oh.”

“Amber talked to us, too. She said you asked her about Greg and Mariah’s absences this week?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I followed up on those for you, too. Greg had an accident at home and was in the emergency room during your meeting time this week. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to reach Mariah personally, but her father informed me over the phone that her family has pulled her out of the program. She won’t be returning.” Julie leans across her desk. “X, can you please look at me?”

I look at her. Her face is twisted, like a mask, papier mâché, drooping strips of plaster bandage. The static threatens to consume her, and me.

“I’m going to increase your dose to eighty milligrams. For now you can take two of what you have at the usual time, but I’m sending in a new prescription to the pharmacy.” She scrawls something on a pad at hand, and I take the opportunity to look away. “I’ll see you again this time next week, okay? And if anything’s the matter, you can call the nurse’s hotline. We’ll take care of you.” She hands me the script. 

“Thank you,” I say, and then someone brings me home. I am silent for the drive. Thinking.

Wasn’t Devin an only child?

I start doubling my dose. The fog doesn’t come. The prickle intensifies into ceaseless paranoia. I check the window locks three times a day to make sure, even though I live on the third floor. Chair under the doorknob, empty bottles stacked on it so I’ll hear if someone comes. I can’t stop thinking about Devin, and the others. Were they all really fine? Was this just a breakthrough-breakdown, pills ceasing their function and leaving me alone, spiraling? 

I hadn’t tried calling Devin in weeks. He didn’t pick up the first few times, and anyone in that state doesn’t usually want to talk anyhow. But Julie said someone answered when they called. Maybe they would answer for me.

The phone buzzes. Surging forward and receding, like a tide. Devin could be there on the other end. Getting better. Being cared for. I close my eyes and wait to hear his voicemail, or something else.

Click. “Hello?”

The voice startles me so much I can’t speak. A stranger.

“Hello?” says the phone. “Who is this?”

“Um,” I say suddenly, “Devin?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the voice says. “Devin isn’t here right now. May I ask who’s calling?”

“I’m—his friend. X,” I clarify. My voice is not of me. “Can I talk to him soon?”

“No, unfortunately he can’t talk. But I’ll let him know you called, he’ll be happy to hear people are checking up on him.”

“What’s—who are you?”

“I’m Eric, Devin’s brother. I’m taking good care of him, miss. Have a nice day.” 

The call ends. Something in my stomach shrivels. I run to the bathroom, but there’s nothing to bring up. I don’t know why that voice scared me so much. Why had I thought Devin was an only child? He hadn’t mentioned his family—maybe I’d just assumed, or forgotten if he’d said. Of course he had a brother. He was alright. They all were, now.

---

Days pass. Bugs make their homes in me. My medication runs out, the new pills ready for pickup. I’d rather die than set foot outside. But I need my stability. I steel myself to leave, and exit my apartment into the world. 

Everyone looks at me. They all want to hurt me. A car drives slowly past me and I try not to look at the people inside. My head hurts. It’s hard to see where I’m going, but I go.

The drug store is bigger than it was last time. Brighter. Angrier. People avoid me as I shuffle towards the pharmacy counter. The pharmacist who’s always there smiles at me again.

“Do you have any questions about your medication?”

I shake my head, fumbling for my card. He’s staring at me through his glasses.

“Do you need me to call someone for you?”

His voice makes me want to puke. I shake my head again, take the pills and make for the door. A crowd of voices shout at me as I stagger out into the air. I miss the way things were. My cleats don’t fit anymore. I tear the bag open, pop the lid off the bottle and shake a pill into my mouth, force it down dry and sticky and hope it does its job. My mouth is sweet where it lingered. It didn’t used to be so sweet.

There is a dull shock of understanding that blooms at the edge of my mind. The prickle rises on the back of my neck, and I look over my shoulder again. The pharmacist is looking at me from his position behind the counter. His face ringed in static. He waves at me. And I take off running.

There is no one I can call. No one who will listen. There are only doors that will slam in my face, white speckle tile and fluorescent lights and needles. He knows that. He knew it for Devin, too. He knew it for the rest of them. The wind in my face feels like fingers grasping at me, tugging at my hair, slowing me down. I race home, up the stairs and lock the door, brace it with furniture and then I sit on the floor and cry and cry. They’re laughing at me. Trading whispers. Look how stupid. Look how gullible. Go on and cry, crybaby. 

So I do. It’s all I have left.

The next time it’s group, I don’t come to the door. Cheryl calls me, but I don’t answer. There will be a wellness check if I don’t come. I want them to, now. When her calls finally stop piling up, I wait fifteen minutes, then step outside. I leave my door open, leave what I can to show that I am gone. I leave the pills out, and the script. Crush a few with my heel for good measure. I hope they can put the pieces together.

It’s dark, cool. It reminds me of the fog, makes me wish I could sleep. Eyes follow me through the evening. Headlights burn me as cars move past. I walk slowly in my big jacket, letting myself be watched. Letting the prickle come up my neck, creep over my scalp, trickle down over my face until it covers me in a thin layer and I prickle all over. The prickle and I are old friends. It tells me when to be afraid.

Then there are headlights at my back that don’t go away. The growl of an engine crashes into me. I stop walking, and someone gets out. I don’t turn to look. I can’t stand to look at faces anymore. Suddenly, I have a funny thought. Maybe I do have some questions about my medication, after all.

Something whistles through the air above my head, and the world disappears.

When I wake up later, I’m not sure if I have. There are stars. It smells like gasoline, copper and dirt. My jacket is gone. My mouth is gone, too. My hands. You’re caught, someone says in my ear, you let it happen. With my eyes, which I still have, I look across the floor. It hurts to look. There’s blood under me, sticky black. The prickle is gone. I discovered its source.

I’m alone for a long time. It’s hard to say how much. I realize that there’s a door behind me when it opens. Light falls across the floor, yellow tractor beam coming to take me away. I long to be weightless, but the earth won’t let me. Then the pharmacist who is always there puts his shoe against my face and turns me over. He doesn’t speak. He crouches down and looks into my eyes like he is trying to take something from me. Then he takes the tape off my mouth.

All I do at first is scream. It's all my body knows how to do. He sits and watches me. When I can see his mouth, it’s smiling, and I realize he likes it when I scream. So as soon as I can, I stop. Silence rushes back into the gaps, roaring in my ears.

“Good girl,” he says when I am quiet. His voice is a distorted growl, infrasound, rattling my eardrums. “Aren’t you such a good girl?”

I think about his throat in my teeth. I think about his blood on my face. For a moment it feels like I am lunging for him, jabbing thumbs into soft and fragile places. But he still has my hands, turning numb and purple at the small of my back. So I sit up as much as I can and spit at the floor near his feet. Faster than my eyes can track, he lurches forward. Fist in my hair, hauling me up to hip height.

He looks into my face with his glass eyes. His mouth is monstrous, all his white teeth sharp in a thicket of gray.

“I’ve been watching you,” he says. 

I know this already. There is nothing satisfying in the confirmation of it. 

He is not the man in black I always pictured. He could be anybody.

“Think of this as a favor I’m doing you.”

Then he hits me again. And other things.

When I’m alone, voices chatter in my ears. No one is coming, they say, you are alone. They will not find you. You and the ditch will be friends soon. So you amounted to this—better than nothing, we suppose. I shush them, rock myself against the cement floor and hum and think about grass, and birds. I try not to leave myself room to cry. I don’t want him to have the satisfaction.

A thousand years go by. Outside the room, there are voices. Not any of mine. His, and others. They start loud, and get quiet. His voice goes away completely. Doors open, distant, then closer. Light falls over my body again, and I feel the weightlessness. Real this time. My hands come back to me, but I can’t move them. There are faces, more than I’ve seen in a while. They scare me, but I can’t run, so I try not to look. Except at his. They take me past him, and I look. Through his glasses I see his eyes, still trying to take something from me. He has, by now. But not what he wanted.

I sleep for a long time, and when I wake up, the world is the way I remember it. My feet on the ground, cleats and all, not slipping. When I’m well enough they bring me to identify Devin’s body, since he didn’t really have a brother after all. They find Mariah’s, too. Greg really was in the emergency room, turns out. But there are others. Too many to think of.

Cheryl changes careers afterwards. Probably for the best. I find this out when she drives me to group the first time after I get out of the hospital. She doesn’t look at me much, but when she does, I can see her eyes are different. Not caseworker eyes anymore.

“Lauren is going to be taking over your case starting next week,” she says after a long silence. “So this will be the last time I see you.” I can tell she’s trying not to cry.

“Okay,” I say. 

She never apologizes. No one does. They all say they’re sorry for what happened to me, but that isn’t the same thing. People who don’t listen never think to apologize for it. They think they were listening all along.

Things are mostly the same as before, except I get my pills mailed to me now. And I think about Devin a lot. When I pour myself a drink, I pour one for him too and pretend he’s with me. I don’t have any pictures, so mostly I think about his voice. The last time we ever spoke, he told me, no one listens to me, X. 

What I said then was, I know the feeling, man.

But now I just tell him I’m sorry.

[zae-heeyyy]

Valor

Summary: Arthur takes you on one of his adventures. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!Reader Word Count: 1,760 Trigger Warning: Animal attack, angry-ish Arthur, violence Tags: mid- high honor Arthur, damsel in destress, fluff, and angst

a/n: Hey y'all! It's been a while since I posted because life is crazy right now. This is a request from @littlemistey. I'm paraphrasing from our convo, "Arthur x reader where the reader is saved by Arthur from almost being mauled by a cougar or a pack of wolves." Sketches are copied/cut from Arthur's journal. A classic "Arthur Morgan, please save me" trope. Thanks for reading!

Valor: Great courage in the face of danger, especially in battle. It denotes bravery and heroism, particularly in challenging or risky situations.

The bones in your wrists ached with the numbing weight of boredom as another morning of chores lumbered on. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. Intertwined pieces of yarn grew longer at your feet as the knitting cadence played in your head. You'd zoned out, daydreaming of anything more exciting than this.

A rhythmic clank of guns on a belt alerted you to your approaching burly cowboy.

You would've been glad to see him any other time, but your contempt for your chores and an odd hat on his head made you groan with irritation. A lit cigarette sat snug between his lips as he talked, muffling his speech.

"Why you sittin' here with your lip stuck out?" he asked, adjusting his belt and sitting beside you on a wooden crate. He tossed the cigarette away, leaned over to kiss the temple of your head, and placed a hand on the small of your back.

"Bored outta my mind," you complained. The sun reflected off a shiny decorative piece on his hat, making you squint. "And why are you wearing that stupid hat?"

"What?" he opened his hands out questioningly with a goofy grin stretched across his face. "A man keeps this camp afloat, and he can't even wear a nice hat without his lady callin' it stupid."  

You rolled your eyes and gestured to all the women in the camp, cleaning tables and guns, sewing, and helping with dinner.

"No, we keep this camp afloat while you men are out doing god knows what," you said, your stitches getting sloppier as your vexation grew. "I'm losing my mind here. Meanwhile, you come back with fancy trinkets, weird statues, emeralds, and crazy hats! You know, I think you do the robbing and hunting only sometimes, and when that's done, you're just out there playing around!"

You finally stopped knitting and turned to Arthur, whose playful grin had faltered into a thoughtful glance. You continued your monologue, "Ugh! I swear, if you don't get me outta here, I'm gonna stab Grimshaw through the eye with this needle!"

You held the sharp point inches away from Arthur's face, prompting him to snatch it from you. "Alright, easy there." He grabbed your hand in two of his gloved ones and glanced at it from under the brim of his hat, thinking for a long moment, "Fine, you can come with me long as nobody gets stabbed. Can't have a degenerate murderer loose in this camp, now, can we?"

Ignoring his sarcasm, you squealed excitedly and jumped up from your spot, pulling on Arthur's arm to make him stand, too.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said between the many kisses you laid on him. He stilled you with firm hands on your waist and chuckled.

"I reckon it won't be as exciting as you think, but I can't say no to you."

Within a few minutes, you were ready to go, aiming and checking the ammo on a varmint rifle that Arthur had given you.

"Met a strange feller, Algernon Wasp. He's a— he has— well, he— he's an artist, I guess; he's paying me to collect some stuff for his, uh, creations. Bird feathers, orchids, that kind of stuff. Would be faster with the two of us."

And that's how you found yourself in the swamps of Lemoyne with the varmint rifle slung over your shoulder as you swatted away mosquitoes and sweated your ass off. You were hot, thirsty, and worst of all, you'd only found four of the seven cigar orchids you needed.

Mud squelched under your feet as you followed behind Arthur; you spoke exasperatedly, "how much is this fool paying you for all this?"

Arthur had gone quieter as you'd gotten more frustrated over the hours. Both of you were starting to regret this decision.

"I don't know. Money is money," he said dismissively, his head on a swivel and eyes focused. You were bothered that he could so easily spot plants and always knew which direction to go, expecting you to keep pace with his long strides when mud weighed down your skirts, slowing you down. You knew it was irrational, but you were mad at him for dragging you out here despite your near begging.

The heat was getting to you, and you'd lost control of the filter from your brain to your mouth. Arthur was a few feet ahead when you started your mumbling, "goddamn swamps is no place for a lady. Gators, mud, bugs and—" You didn't get to finish your sentence before Arthur spun and made two giant steps toward you, jaw clenched.

"You got something to say?"

You crossed your arms, defiant. Arthur's reputation as a vicious intimidator didn't phase you, though. He wouldn't lay a finger on you; you both knew it. You rolled your eyes and said, "this is as boring as being back at camp, except I'm all dirty now."

He stepped closer into your space, his angry eyes searching yours. He spoke in a low volume that would scare anybody but you: "This is what you wanted, woman, so don't go gettin' mad at me because things ain't all neat and proper."

Were you frightened by him? No. Were your feelings hurt? Yes. You scoffed and nodded slowly while you spoke, "You're right. I'm gonna head to camp. I'll see you when you get back."

You didn't give him the chance to respond before you trudged in the other direction, clicking for your horse waiting nearby. Arthur watched you go until he lost sight of you in the overgrown vegetation.

Then you were on the road, your horse at a trot, when something in his line of vision spooked him. Before you could even react, you were bucked off, your head hitting the ground with a thud. Despite the pain, you knew better than to just lay there. Gators and snakes were everywhere, but only something notably terrifying would scare off your Andalusian. You took the rifle off your back, pointing it aimlessly all around, trying to focus your spinning vision on the threat beyond.

Before you could blink, a big cat took hold of your leg through your skirt. You shot wildly once, twice, then three times before the beast let go of you. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you scrambled backward as more bullets rang out from your low-caliber weapon. Hoping and praying, you squeezed the trigger one last time. Eyes closed, you prepared for the inevitable when a louder shot rang out somewhere near you.

When pain and death didn't come, you opened your eyes to see Arthur standing over you, concern distorting his face. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and he huffed, trying to catch his breath. His hands scoured every inch of you, searching for signs of bleeding. Panic started to set in again when you realized you couldn't feel anything; you held your breath as Arthur pulled up the hem of your dress, bracing for the worst.

You breathed a sigh of relief and let your head fall back onto the ground. The puncture was minor, no worse than a needle prick. Arthur stood, using his arm to wipe away the perspiration that had soaked him. Then his anger started up again.

"Can't go getting hurt like that, girl. Shouldn't've let you run off by yourself. If something happened to you, I'd—"

"Shut up, Arthur," you rose back up and tried to smile through your unease. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

He held out a hand to pull you back to your feet, then wrapped his arms around you tight. His heart hammered against his chest, and you could hear your blood rushing through your ears. Then you finally let yourself cry in the safety of all his bulk.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl; I'm sorry." Every shakey inhale, sob, and gasp from you ripped him apart from the inside out. He was supposed to be looking after you, always, but his hardheadedness and pride left you vulnerable. Killing was the one thing he knew he was good for, and to almost fail at the cost of your life made his insides rot with guilt.

He peeled you away from his chest and cupped your face, "I won't let anything else happen to you, ya' hear?" You nodded, and he wiped dirt and tears away from your cheek with a big thumb and brought you back into him, stroking the back of your head. After a long moment, he retrieved your horse, helped you, and then rode beside you the whole way back to camp.

The next day, you gladly did your chores while Arthur went on his adventures. You didn't complain in the comfort and safety of a shade tree and other skilled gunmen. You were sitting in his tent when Arthur returned in the evening, now wearing his regular gambler's hat and carrying another adorned with floral designs and a peacock feather.

He greeted you with a peck on your cheek, joined you on the cot, and talked through a crooked smile, "found the rest of those orchids today and gave 'em to Algernon. Took this instead of the money. Think he was happier with that trade, anyway."  

The closer you looked at the beautiful monstrosity, the more you had to fight off your reaction. It was undeniably unique, but you couldn't image anyone wearing it seriously.

"It's um—," You covered your mouth to stifle your giggle, but your quaking shoulders gave you away. To your relief, Arthur joined in your laugh and placed the hat atop your head.

"He tried to give it to me, made me try it on, but I figured it'd look better on you. Now we both got a crazy hat."

The idea of Arthur standing in front of a mirror in the hat with all his hardened features made you throw your head back in near hysterics.

"Well, I will cherish that image and this hat forever. Thank you." Arthur's face softened as your amusement died down, then morphed into a lamentable combination of worry and self-loathing. You recognized it all too well.  

He stroked your face with the back of his hand and spoke in a hushed tone, "I'm sorry, again, for letting you go off by yourself like that. I—"

You silenced him with your lips, pushing him onto his back and mounting him. Your new hat fell away along with his worry as you showed him just how appreciative you were.

[berrymoos]

[❤️‍🩹] ,, rg!vi moodboard + headcanons!

this moodboard took me ,, SO stupid long to make & then when i went to save it the FILE CORRUPTED ヽ（≧□≦）ノ luckily all i had to do was go back & save it again but i seriously thought i was gna have to do the entire thing over X-/ regardless i luv how it turned out hehe !!

[💥] ✶ age ranges from super super ityy bitty (infant ages – a year or so) to curious big kid (5 – 8) ; however, she's only ever really little if it's just her & caitlyn as she's the one she feels safest with. if there's another regressor around—like jayce, jinx, or caitlyn if she needs to indulge in her headspace—vi finds herself adopting the big sibby role! she's a big sister at her core & she still adores looking after others, but sometimes she just . . . needs to be looked after, too

[💥] ✶ babysitter jinx who encourages vi's energy to the highest degree & puts mischievous ideas in her mind (nothing dangerous, of course !! silly little pranks n stuff hehe) but is the absolute sweetest when vi is teeny tiny. in the event vi is regressed super super little when jinx is also small, she becomes The Most protective over her baby sister ever

[💥] ✶ playdates w her & jayce always end in two sweaty little ones without fail bc they turn everything into a challenge (“betcha i can climb this tree faster than you!” — “nuh-uh!! i can!!!”) & will run themselves down to the bone by playing elaborate games of pretend

[💥] ✶ weepy lil thing :(( holding in her big feelings for so long when she's big results in lotsa tears when she's small, even if it's over things that aren't a big deal (like snapping a crayon or a stuffie bein put into the wash). usually snuggles from mama cait makes everything alll better tho !!

[💥] ✶ clifford the big red dog & spiderman r some of her favorite favorite things ever !! the very moment she hears the opening theme for clifford, there is nothing more important than gettin in front of the tv (it's one of those tv shows that make her RUSH off the potty the moment the commercial break is over). the only type of bandaids she will accept after pretending to be a silly web-slinging hero are spiderman ones, so cait keeps a ton on deck!

[💥] ✶ also feel like she'd enjoy coyote peterson / brave wilderness too ?? when she's xtra little she watches the general exploration videos, steering clear of the biting / stinging / overall more violent ones cus it upsets her . . . but when she's bigger, oooo she gets soso hype when there's a new bug coyote finds or a snapping turtle he goes head to head with !! lotsa “woaaahh mama did’ja see that??? did’ja, did’ja???? itsa exe– execush’ner wasp ‘nd it– it stinged him!!! lookit, mama, lookit!!!!” & excited bouncing. cait is a big catalyst to this (even tho she does not like bugs) & will egg her on which just gets her more excited !! ＼(≧▽≦)／

[💥] ✶ active but extremely messy kiddo. she jumps in muddy puddles without a care of how soaked her socks will get later ; she makes potions out of grass, sticks, and rocks & shows them to caitlyn with grass stains on her pants ; she climbs trees to sneak up on birds & comes back down with leaf bits all in her hair . . . many, many baths are in her schedule. when she's a bit too little to do all of this, she'll sit near cait with all of her toys scattered around her, constantly bouncing from one to the other to keep her brain stimulated

[💥] ✶ bath time involves either lots of splish-splashin with her sharkie bath toys or dozin in the water till her fingers get all wrinkly. vi has a big appreciation for baths after her time in stillwater as it felt impossible to ever feel fully clean, so after big adventures in the backyard that end with mud splatters on her cheeks and dirt smeared on the palms of her hands, she & cait take extra care in makin sure all the nasties are all gone (*´˘`*)♡

[💥] ✶ loves those temporary tattoo kits ; to her, those are stickers she can stick on anyone that comes near >:-] caitlyn & jinx are her main subjects ; by the end of the day they will all have matching tattoos

[💥] ✶ very very clingy, especially after the war & officially losing most of everyone she has ever loved. while she gets more pouty & huffy when she's older, when she's itty bitty she gets sooo weepy cus her object permanence is just gone. there's a part of vi that's ashamed of how dependant she is on cait—after all, she's very used to taking care of others & taking care of herself, so such a drastic change in lifestyle can be jarring—but with cait, she can work through it ♡

[💥] ✶ being active one minute then having weepy feelings the next, vi takes a lotta naps! she Does Not like being told to take a nap, specially when she's claiming “big girl”–ness (“’m not sleepy!” she'll whine whilst rubbing an eye with a fist . . . yes you are, sweetness. yes you are), but she can forgive cait's insistence if she promises to lay down with her & rawrvioli the dino

[solar4seekstron]

I have a funny little one for TFA so we all know how bumblebee is like the smallest bot compared to everyone right so what if he had a conjux or crush that was smaller than him like he teases them and stuff but still loves affection to them (if you make them femme that be great if not gn is good too 👍)

That’s so cute I’ll definitely give it a try. And the reason I do GN is because I want all different genders to enjoy my work. Male, Nonbinary, and Female lol.

Smaller

TFA!Bumblebee x Cybertronian!GN!Reader Oneshot

Content: SFW

Introduction Movies/Series Oneshot Masterlist

TW/Tags: Just Bee being best boi.

Bee has been a part of Team Prime for a pretty good while. He joined because he wished to stick with his pal Bulkhead. And his lovely Conjunx. A small but well built and pretty strong he was able to get to become his Conjunx by pure luck, at least that’s what he yelled himself. Joins them as well.

Someone he just asked out one day at the academy and ever since then. You both never separated. Even despite many other short bots like wasp and the twins who tried to court you.

Good thing too. Going with Bee is the best choice you could’ve ever made. He always made you smile and brought you cheer even when you were supposed to be mad at him. You always stood up for him and comforted him. He always made sure to be affectionate with you. Like holding you and giving you forhelm kisses. The only times he’d not care about how he looked and how others saw him.

You know it’s to show he truly loves you for who you are. As you show how you love him for who he is. You two are basically the ideal couple in the team. Ratchet even saying that only once. Bringing Bee and Ratchet a little closer. Making both you and Optimus happy.

It’s been a good while since you all started living on the planet earth with Sari. Sari always liked hanging out with you since you were the smallest.

Often at times when you and Bee would be sitting on the couch watching TV Sari would walk in and sit on your lap almost like a little child. Sometimes Bee didn’t mind. But if he was feeling a bit “frisky” that moment or day. yeah he’d get annoyed but say nothing.

Your bond always comforting him even when you guys weren’t in battle. Every time there was a close call you guys always stayed close together. You even dressed up as Bee bride for Halloween when he went as a vampire.

Bee is always affectionate with you. And as you are with him. Deposited your size.

The others always treated you as a comrade as if the size difference wasn’t there every day. Despite not having a gender like the mechs. You do at times play at the role of a mother. Something Sari told you, bee and bulkhead about when she came to visit you all. Sari even said that you treat her like your own.

Even at night Bee would try to talk to you about it. Saying if you’re like the mother then he’s the cool uncle. You corrected him since you listened to what sari said about how family works. He’d be the dad.

At least second to Optimus Prime..This would make him a bit sad. Not happy with his not so smart moment.

You’d then comfort him the way you always do. Gently holding him by his cheeks and showering his face with kisses. Smothering him as he chuckled and his cervos gently holding your waist.

”Thanks Sweetspark. You always know how to take care of me.” He chuckled once more. “What would I do without you?”

”Mmm..probably fighting a decepticon.” You teased and this made you ad him laugh before you both looked at each other's optics. And then both of your dermas connect as you both close your optics.

You always and will till the day your spark runs out. Love moments like this with your Conjunx. Although many will always ask you, even repeating it. As you why you stay with him. You can always answer with a bright smile on your dermas. as your optics only show joy and warmth.

”He makes me smile.”

I really had fun making this for Bumblebee. He’s so cute and I tried my best to add as much as I can for him without much of a scenario. Mostly just his relationship with the reader and the femme part gave me an idea. Maybe I’ll do another part with this Oneshot but I’ll need a scenario for the two so I can get a better story out to write so please lay out the ideas. I’m sure I can make a lot of fun ideas with the family dynamic with Sari, Bee, and reader! I hope you all have a good rest of the day and enjoy the next posts as they come!

[paper-mario-wiki]

Sometimes I wonder what made me follow you. You are super cool, but I don't know what it was that made me follow you, and out of both curiosity and shame, I never had the heart to unfollow. I come here on Tumblr once a fortnight, yet you are always like 65% of my timeline. So please take this the wrong way, today I just felt brave, and had to admit this one odd thought in my head. Still just gonna truck along, but if these is even a hint as to why and if you can, please tell me where I think you know where you are from. I know it's stupid, I'm really sorry.

80% of this reads like it was typed out by a cartoon mouse quaking in fear.

ive done a lot of things! i'll just try to like. remember a bunch of stuff ive done and i'll type it out as i remember it.

devil from the bible/memphis tennessee/HATSUNE MIKU IS THAT YOU/mikeiplier/mr x the librarian/snapcube. sans and papyrus (and other misc shitpost stuff) voice acting. genghis kanghis. liars club. batter-is-ooc. smaverage joe. fire eyes. mario BLJs through your wall to greet you. clown depot streams. ultra despair boys. "raspberry crowns are also a type of wasp". "frenchman's cumsock/why i dont want to learn chess". "well that was pretty con-fuckin-venient, im sorry for doubting you 7/11". googoo moments. horse crimes. music for unproductive zoomers (and other mashups). walkin' (animation meme).

it could be something else but that probably accounts for like 99% of the "i found you through this!" items on my portfolio.

[yayasvalveplay]

"im an autobot" got me thinking how was for longarm in the bootcamp and that he had a genuine friendship with bee. shockwave is the lonely type for his own choice but that was different for longarm, as longarm he was just a typical introvert, while bee was that type of extrovert that adopt introverts. so while bee was being friends with bulkead and wasp and ironhide seemed very close, longarm was just on his own corner alone and bee saw this socially inept bot and decided they were going to be friends. Longarm was kinda awkward at first, bee was too much hyperactive for him but eventually he got used to him, after bootcamp and both of them went their own ways, they probably kept some sort of contact, aka sometimes bee would message longarm and they would have a small talk about recent stuff, longarm was glad that bee was so insistent in keeping in touch because he was fond of bee and at the same time wasnt exactly good in starting conversations. about bulkhead, I think longarm was neutral about him, something like 'he is the friend of my friend', they got along well but it wasnt a lasting thing. I'm not entirely sure about the timeline but shockwave would be pretty upset about the bot that was his friend from bootcamp going missing and the autobots doing nothing about it. now I'm thinking about how bee would react if he knew the truth about shockwave and for sure it would be a lot for him to take, at first I think he would be in denial, he grew up being brainwashed to think that the autobots were the perfect society, just to find out they werent exactly perfect and that one of his friends from bootcamp was shadowplayed while the other was used falsely accused of treason and as experiement (even if he and wasp wasnt exactly friends), the living proof of how fucked up were the autobots happened so close to him to bots he knew and he never noticed anything was wrong, bee surely has a lot of questions that he wont get the answers anytime soon.

on another topic, its kinda fun to think that when longarm met blurr, he had been more less prepared to interact with someone hyperactive like him because he had been friends with bee for a long time, blurr is still a lot more to take than bee was but the experience still helped to keep up with him lol

AYO.

You so right!!

[intothedysphoria]

There was a boy who lived on the other side of town.

Hawkins was a small town but it had a pretty explicit wealth divide. There were a solid wall of three streets where people had three, even four story houses and their own pools. Walk beyond that line and it looked pretty grim. Well, his parents said it did. Steve privately thought the people who lived in those houses looked much happier.

Except for one house. The Hargrove’s.

The dad was ex Marines and was a fucking piece of work. He’d go on ranting about anyone and everyone in the mall, clutching his wife’s hand in a vice. She was quiet and didn’t really seem to do much apart from occasionally pushing her daughter into getting more dresses. The kids were far more interesting.

A red headed thirteen year old girl who trudged around with a skateboard and him. He looked like a movie star but he was constantly limping, like he was injured. Supposedly, he’d taken Steve’s arbitrarily assigned crown but he didn’t even talk to anyone. He just scowled and sometimes Steve saw him crying.

It was all really sad and Steve was going to do something about it. He wasn’t sure what but he was at least going to try.

Steve tried to talk to him once after class. Hargrove looked him up and down then promptly spat on his shoes. The nice ones he’d just got for Christmas.

He talked funny too. It wasn’t just because he was from California, Steve had watched enough tv to pinpoint that accent. He talked rough and gutteral, with a harshness to his voice that suggested he’d been smoking from the age of 10.

Hop arrested him for minor drug charges on Christmas Day. The news spread fast in a town like Hawkins. Not because he’d been smoking weed but because they’d had to carry him out on a stretcher.

The hospital bed was his cell. Steve sent flowers because it felt like the right thing to do given the circumstances. Poppies.

They were still on Hargrove’s bedside table when he left. Medical fees had been paid off by the town. Mr Harrington had even snuck a 100 dollar bill into the pot.

One day Billy approached him. There was a vulnerability to him, shoulders hunched as he asked if there was anywhere he could stay for the night. Neil Hargrove had kicked him out.

Billy was enamoured by Steve’s record player and ran to his own collection to shove them under the needle. Apparently Joy Division was what he played to everyone before he introduced them to the heavy stuff. Steve would have almost preferred Metallica or WASP to Love Will Tear Us Apart. There was something so incredibly bleak about the lyrics and Steve wondered if that was how Billy saw the world.

Steve had leftover pierogies and latkes in the fridge but Billy politely said he preferred to make his own food. He then made a soup with scotch bonnet peppers in which looked delicious but Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to handle.

Billy took the bed. Steve took the couch. There was a pile of porn mags buried under the pile of stuff and Steve knew he should’ve just left it. He was just curious and toed a page open.

There was a photo which looked like it had been taken behind an alleyway, of a large, bearded man in denim with another man in a suit on his knees. That magazine was shoved back down to the bottom of the pile.

Billy was queer. Steve had seen videos from New York, Los Angeles, London recently, of gaunt men on hospital beds, clinging to the hands of kind faced women. The news had said that was what happened if you were queer. Agony. Death. But Billy seemed fit and healthy.

Billy wasn’t going to die of that disease. Of AIDS. Steve wouldn’t let him.

The next morning, Billy used the shower for too long, ate nothing but a single slice of toast and left by 6AM. Steve watched him go and wondered if he would come back.

Come back he did, promptly that same evening. Billy made a grilled cheese, which of course had ghost chilli in it, and watched MTV. They had a long conversation about nuclear disarmament which Steve only half followed, then they both went to bed.

Things went on like that for several weeks. Billy would put on a wide variety of records and sometimes they would dance. Sometimes Steve would just watch Billy shake his head so hard, it may as well have fallen off.

They started sharing one meal for a change. Stir fry, steak with mashed potatoes, something Billy proudly proclaimed as toad in the hole, which was just battered sausage. All things his grandfather had taught him to cook.

The sleeping situation also got more complicated.

Due to the length of time that Billy was staying over now, there didn’t feel like there was any point in Steve staying indefinitely on the couch.

So they shared a bed. Steve listened to Billy taking long, deep breaths each night and wondered if he was a queer too.

That question was answered on New Years Eve.

Steve had drunk quite a lot. Billy had probably drunk more. Soft Cell was playing on the radio and Steve was humming along to the tune, making popping sounds with his mouth to the synths.

The song changed to a new track from Frankie Goes To Hollywood and Billy grabbed his arms, spinning them both across the room. It was fun, then Steve felt like he was going to be sick so they had to stop.

Billy was lying down on the floor next to him, giggling with flushed cheeks, then declared he hadn’t had a midnight kiss yet.

He was obviously joking but something in Steve’s chest took it deadly serious because he was climbing into Billy’s chest. They were breathing in the same air.

Billy blinked twice, eyelashes glowing and Steve decided to stop caring.

The kiss didn’t set him alight. It didn’t kill him. It didn’t even eject him from the house. All it did was send a warm tingly feeling down his back and towards his groin. The feeling was indescribable.

Billy asked if they could do that again.

Steve said yes.

For @shieldofiron @robthegoodfellow @dragonflylady77 @oopsiedaisiesbaby @harringroveobsessed @bigdumbbambieyes @thatgirlwithasquid for being so cool I hope you like it (I am genuinely so ill right now I probably won’t remember that I wrote this in like two hours)

[racheyace]

Do you possibly have a list of the G/t movies and/or shows? I've been looking for stuff to watch and would love to know what good stuff you've come across!

Okay so I've compiled a list from my poster and from more that have popped into my head as I wrote them down, fairly sure there's even more, but these are the ones I know well, if you know of any more please comment, I'd love to add to the list, there's actually so much out there when you really think about it!

Anyway enjoy and I hope I've listed at least some that you haven't seen before

Gt in media list:

Percey Jackson and the Lightning Theif (Literally a 3 minute scene toward the end of the movie but a great scene!)

Gulliver’s Travels (2011 Jack Black)

Gulliver’s Travels (1996 film)

Black Adam (The Atom smasher is a size shifter kinda like ant man)

Ant Man (Ant man and wasp, ant man quantomania, all three of these movies are great!)

Avengers Civil War (Airport scene)

Earths Mightiest Hero’s (Tv show featuring ant man and the wasp with great gt scenes)

Help! I shrunk my teacher (This movie is in another language however I have been able to find an English version pretty sure on YouTube)

Help! I shrunk my parents (Again in another language but should have English version on YouTube)

Help! I shrunk my friends (Now this one I haven’t been able to find with English version or English subtitles so if you find one please share, but visually even better than the other two in regards to gt!)

Tinkerbell and the great fairy rescue

Disney’s Thumbelina

Disney’s original animated Peter Pan as well as Return to Neverland (Tinkerbell gt scenes)

Ella Enchanted

The Borrowers (1973) A little old but super cute!

The Borrowers (1992) Pretty sure this is a mini series or at least 2 or 3 short films and it is great!

The Borrowers (1997) Classic movie, great visual effects, epic cast, amazing gt!

The Borrowers (2011) Another great remake of the movie, a little more modern

Alice in Wonderland – Whether it be the Disney animation or the Johnny Depp remakes, great gt scenes in this also, I personally like the live action remake

Hook – Oh my god is this movie great! Julia Roberts plays Tinkerbell and Robin Williams as an adult Peter, the chemistry and gt interactions in this are amazing!

Wiplala (Also known as Help! I shrunk the family though not from the same series of movies as the other Help! Movies I mentioned above) This is also found in a different language though English versions are available on youtube – Totally underrated movie and has amazing gt all the way through!

Barbie as Thumbelina (For a kids movie this has a super cute story and great gt enemies to friends vibes)

Jack the Giant slayer

Peter Pan (2003 live action) One of my favourites and I rewatch this a lot! Poor tink gets grabbed a lot sometimes gently and sometimes not so gently!

Honey I shrunk the kids

Honey we shrunk ourselves

Honey I blew up the kid

The Secret World of Arrietty (Another one of my all time favourites and rewatches!)

The Iron Giant (Again just amazing and one of my favourites!)

The Indian in the cupboard (So sweet with a lot of really powerful messages)

The Littles (Kids tv show and just all around great gt!)

The incredible shrinking woman (I personally didn’t enjoy this movie as much as I thought I would but still great gt scenes)

The incredible shrinking man (Again didn’t love this but it is also very old, great special effects for its time)

Fern Gully (Another all time favourite!)

Fern Gully 2 the magical rescue (Not as great as the first one but still pretty good as far as gt goes with more interactions with humans)

Epic! (one of the newer gt animations with a fantastic cast, didn’t like that the human’s move so slow but from a scientic viewpoint that does make sense)

Tom Thumb (This is fairly old and a musical, but has some excellent scenes for its time)

George shrinks (A kids tv show I grew up watching, all around amazing)

Jack and the beanstalk: The real story (Fantastic movie, though it may be a mini series, I can’t quiet remember but great gt again!)

Attack on Titan (this is an anime series, it’s also really good in the fact that one of the humans, well a few, but the main character can become a titan and helps to protect his city and his friends, now this show is not for the weak stomach, the titans are quite disturbing and there is a lot of vore and gore so fair warning)

Dinosaur (Disney movie – gt found family the tiny lemurs take in a dinosaur and raise him as their own, inspired my most recent story)

Transformers (There are many of these and can be hit and miss with regards to gt, but its there)

Sugar Apple Fairy Tale (Another anime, actually just started this and its fantastic in regards to gt)

Night at the museum (All three movies as they all include our favourite tiny cowboy and roman)

Robotech (I’ve been told this is great as it contains giant mech people and some gt scenes)

Land of the Giants (TV series, it’s fairly dated but well worth a watch)

Downsizing (Starring Matt Damon, I personally didn’t like this film, it had so much potential and just missed the mark but there is some great gt in it)

Monsters Vs Aliens! (I can’t believe I almost forgot this movie and it’s not in my gt media poster ahhhh! Amazing gt all the way through, one of my favourites!)

Dwarfina (Such a cute tv series, it is in another language but I was able to understand a fair bit, following the series on youtube can be confusing but it is so worth the effort, the story is so sweet with amazing gt and romance)

My little lover (A Japanese series, though I believe there is an english dub, I’ve heard there is a remake now out but I’ve not seen it, the original is fantastic though!)

Okay I’m gonna list a few more below, they all have the same sort of vibe, I didn’t personally enjoy them they were like on the cusp of pornography but for the sake of the gt in media list I’ll put them here:

Attack of the 50 foot cheerleader

Attack of the 50 foot woman (There is two of these, an older one and a remake)

Attack of the 60 foot centrefold

The 30 foot bride of candy rock

The Amazing colossal man

Village of the giants