#olfactory learning

[heron-childs]

the studies about how we are born with no built-in reaction towards scent and are taught to dislike/like certain smells make so much sense to me bc i do love smelling my stinky dog. wanna bite her even nom nom

[omegaphilosophia]

The Philosophy of the Nose

The philosophy of the nose explores the sensory, symbolic, and cultural roles of the sense of smell and the organ that enables it. The nose is not only a physical organ responsible for olfactory perception but also a symbol tied to memory, identity, aesthetics, and even morality in certain contexts. Smell, often considered the most primal sense, is closely linked to emotion, memory, and instinct, raising important questions about how we experience and interpret the world through scent.

Key Themes in the Philosophy of the Nose:

Olfactory Perception and Reality:

Smell provides a unique way of perceiving the world, often triggering instinctual reactions and deep emotional responses. The nose connects us to the world in an intimate and often unconscious way, influencing our experience of places, people, and objects.

Unlike vision or hearing, smell is immediate and can evoke strong visceral reactions without the mediation of conscious thought. Philosophically, this raises questions about epistemology—how we know the world through our senses—and how smell contributes to our understanding of reality.

Smell and Memory:

The olfactory system is closely tied to the limbic system in the brain, which is involved in emotion and memory. Smells can evoke powerful memories and emotions, often more intensely than visual or auditory stimuli.

Proust's madeleine moment is a famous example of how smell can trigger involuntary memories, leading to philosophical reflections on the nature of memory, time, and identity.

Smell, Identity, and the Self:

The nose and the sense of smell can play a role in personal and cultural identity. Scents are deeply tied to individual experiences, cultures, and environments, influencing how we relate to the world and to others.

Certain smells are associated with specific cultures, environments, or personal histories, shaping our sense of self and belonging. The philosophy of identity can explore how smell contributes to the formation of personal and collective identity.

Aesthetics of Smell:

While much of aesthetics focuses on visual or auditory experiences, the sense of smell also plays a significant role in how we appreciate beauty and form judgments of taste. Perfumes, natural scents, and even the smells of foods are part of an aesthetic experience.

Philosophers have debated why the sense of smell has historically been undervalued in aesthetic theory, and what it means to cultivate an "aesthetic of smell" that acknowledges its role in shaping our emotional and sensory worlds.

Ethics of Smell:

Smell can evoke reactions of attraction or repulsion, influencing judgments about cleanliness, health, and even moral character. Throughout history, certain smells have been associated with purity or pollution, raising ethical questions about the role of smell in social norms and moral judgments.

The philosophy of ethics can explore how smell is used to draw distinctions between good and bad, healthy and unhealthy, or clean and unclean, often reinforcing social or cultural hierarchies.

Smell and Power:

The regulation of smell has often been a form of social control, from the policing of personal hygiene to the management of public spaces. The way societies regulate smells can reflect deeper power structures and cultural values.

Foucault’s concept of biopower can be applied to how societies manage the body through norms of cleanliness, scent, and hygiene, illustrating how the sense of smell is embedded in larger systems of control and discipline.

The Symbolism of the Nose:

The nose has symbolic meanings in many cultures. It can represent intuition, instinct, or primal knowledge. The expression "having a nose for something" implies an intuitive or natural talent for detecting things, often beyond the reach of rational thought.

In literature and mythology, the nose often symbolizes pride, curiosity, or even moral shortcomings, as seen in stories like Pinocchio, where the nose grows as a marker of dishonesty.

Smell and the Sublime:

The sublime, as a concept in philosophy, typically involves overwhelming experiences that go beyond the ordinary—often in the realms of sight or sound. Smell, with its ability to evoke deep, primal reactions, also has the potential to contribute to experiences of the sublime.

Scents that are awe-inspiring, repellent, or overwhelming can lead to philosophical reflections on the boundaries of human experience and how smell contributes to feelings of transcendence or horror.

Smell and the Unconscious:

Smell is often processed on an unconscious level, influencing mood, attraction, and behavior without entering conscious awareness. The philosophy of the unconscious, particularly in the work of Freud, can explore how olfactory experiences tap into deeper layers of the psyche.

Smell can trigger unconscious desires, fears, or memories, raising questions about the role of the unconscious in shaping human experience.

Smell and Environmental Philosophy:

The environment and its smells play a significant role in our experience of nature. Fresh air, the scent of rain, or the smell of forests can evoke feelings of peace and connection with nature, while pollution and unpleasant odors can signify environmental degradation.

Environmental philosophy explores the relationship between humans and the natural world, with smell serving as a powerful sensory link that informs our understanding of nature's health and vitality.

The philosophy of the nose invites us to reconsider the often overlooked sense of smell as a profound and influential part of human experience. From its role in memory and identity to its aesthetic, ethical, and symbolic dimensions, the nose plays a critical part in how we navigate and interpret the world. Philosophically, the sense of smell challenges the dominance of sight and hearing in traditional sensory hierarchies, offering a rich field for exploration in both individual and cultural contexts.

[themontessoriacademyofarlington]

Early Childhood - Olfactory Experiences

What's that smell? Well, its nutmeg of course! Olfactory activities enhance sensory development by refining the sense of smell and boost cognitive skills through identifying and categorizing different scents. These activities also support language development as children describe and discuss their sensory experiences, and they aid in emotional regulation by evoking positive emotions. Additionally, olfactory sorting introduces children to diverse cultural scents, fostering cultural awareness, and helps develop fine motor skills through careful handling of materials. 

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After revealing to Optimus that you are carrying his sparkling, he convinces you to stay under the Autobot care. However, after the sudden appearance of an old lover of yours, Optimus faces difficult challenges as he tries to win you back and learn how to prepare to be a father at the same time.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

4K

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

There is a clear difference between carrying a sparkling and dying. 

You weren’t sure which one you were doing.

Everyone was treating you like you were about to perish. Everyone has always been careful around you. But now they are extremely aware of you. Every step you take, breath, look, smell, nothing was too insignificant. 

“You shouldn’t be carrying that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go there.”

The autobots treated you like a doll. Although the thought sounds amusing, it really wasn’t. 

“I just want to go for a drive. I’ve been inside for two weeks. I need to get out.”

Bulkhead moves his helm from side to side. He was  the third bot you asked about going out. 

“What if we crash and you get hurt?” 

You knew he was making up an excuse to not take you for a drive. Because what kind of Autobot would be such a bad driver?

“I am a human! I need the sun and see pretty things or I’ll get depressed and die!”

“Can you just watch the sun and pretty things on TV?”

Crossing your hands in front of your chest, you huff, showing your clear satisfaction. 

“I am sorry (Y/N) but you are carrying the only sparkling Cybertron has seen since millennials. If you weren’t having our species’s only hope, I would be more lenient.” 

Bulkhead’s voice sounds apologetic. You know that he was telling the truth. Maybe they all missed hanging out with you but couldn’t do much due to current circumstances. 

“I am being serious. I need to go out.” you say looking at the bot. “I’ll seriously die.”

You were exaggerating but you didn’t know until how much you could last without going crazy. 

“Well, maybe we can wait until Optimus is back and hear what he thinks.” Arcee steps in, trying to see if she could alleviate the situation. “You know, so no one wants to get in trouble.”

“Prime isn’t even around.”

A simple talk couldn’t fix everything. Although you and Optimus were in speaking terms, you wouldn’t say that things were the way they used to be. Things were still awkward and tense between the two of you. 

“You need to understand him, he is also going through biological needs not seen eons ago,” Ratchet speaks up while still typing on his large computer. “He is nesting for you and the sparkling, he can’t control it and he is trusting us to keep you safe while he is away.”

“Oh so you care about his biological needs but not about mine? I see how it is.”

“It’s not that, it's just–”

Ratchet turns to look at you. 

“Alright, maybe you are right.”

The medic-bot notices the color of your skin. It’s pale. Not in a natural way but in a sick-manner. Your belly has grown and you look tired. Mentally, you must be going through a lot. The weight of the survival of an entire civilization is on your shoulders and you are yet to know if the sparkling will be born healthy. 

“Only for 30 minutes.”

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Optimus was able to satisfy his biological needs only after he found ten dandelions. It was extremely hard to bring them to base since they were delicate and were easy for its tiny petals to crumble. He had found several but would have to go back and look for more since most would lose their petals on the way. 

He also found some pretty rocks. He wasn’t sure which one you would like most so he brought all of them. 

“So you are here to stay with (Y/N) for the rest of the pregnancy?”

His olfactory sensors picked a familiar smell. A human one but it was none of the kids. It was a scent he wasn’t fond of. One he very much wished did not exist. 

“Yes, as a Special Agent, I was assigned this duty. Which I am glad for, I want to spend time with (Y/N) as much as possible.”

Special Agent Alex. Fowler’s Co-worker and your childhood best friend. 

Optimus’ sensors were on alert. All of his instincts warned him. 

“Potential male threat detected. Human male may potentially steal sparkling and partner. Action Required: Keep human male away from mate.”

“May I inquire about your reasoning behind your sudden … presence without invitation?”

He didn’t waste any time as he walked towards the center of the hangar. His tall demeanor did not seem to phase the secret agent. 

“Hey, Prime! Sorry for not announcing it before,” Alex waved knowing that he would get more of a reaction out of Optimus if he pretended that his hostility does not affect him. “But I am just doing my duty. (Y/N) was originally supposed to be transported to a secured area under my watch. But since that didn’t happen, I’ll be staying here.”

“(Y/N) is currently protected by five Autobots at all times. She’s safe here and does not need your guarding.”

“That may be right but (Y/N)’s child is a matter of national security. I can’t let the Autobots have complete control over humanity’s first human-alien hybrid child.”

Optimus closes his servo, fighting the urge to smash the human like a mosquito. 

“My sparkling is no human experiment.”

“I am not saying it was,” Alex looks directly at Optimus’ optics. Unafraid. “What I am saying is that the child would benefit from having all the resources this world can offer. That child, no matter what it may be or look like, would be more human than Cybertronian. It will grow here. Learn our languages, history, traditions and culture.”

Alex smirks, about to deliver the final hit. 

“It’s not like there’s much to learn from Cybertron after all,” he says. “I may raise that child myself.”

Everyone could hear Optimus’ gun engine turn on, about to point directly at the agent. 

Until you showed up. 

“Alex?”

He immediately put away his weapon, pretending that he wasn’t about to harm a certain individual. He couldn’t do it, not after seeing the smile on your face. 

Not after you jumped into his arms, hugging him as he spinned you around. 

“Alert. Action Required: Eliminate threat. Keep human male away from mate. Alert.”

His processor telling him commands wasn’t helping the feelings in his spark. 

“You have always been beautiful but pregnancy suits you so well. It’s going to make my stay here all the more pleasant.”

Alex has always been a flirt.  But you never took it seriously. At least not now. You used to love the compliments during the time of your relationship. Years ago. 

“Are you staying here?”

You ask excitedly, in a desperate need of a friend your age. A human friend who would understand your need to get coffee and see the sunsets. 

“Yes, you won’t have to be lonely anymore,” Alex puts a hand on your head, giving you a soft head pat. An act Optimus was never able to do casually. Putting hands on you without consent in any way did not fit right with him.  “I’ll stay as long as you have me.”

“Yes! You can stay in my room!”

You seem to enjoy the affection. The agent gave you a certain warmness Optimus couldn’t give you and his processor is starting to write codes unfamiliar to him. 

“I am highly against that–”

“Alright, I’ll put my things in there,” Alex’s voice was louder than Optimus’ as he was closer to you. You were too excited to pay attention to the rising anger of the bot. “But tell me, where were you? I was waiting for you and got kinda worried.”

“I’ve been inside here for two weeks and Ratchet took me for a quick drive.”

“For two weeks? That’s not healthy for you and the baby, you need to stay active and get enough sunlight.”

“That’s what I told them but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

Everyone around you noticed your evident happiness that they didn’t mind the comment. You were right, they weren’t taking your needs into consideration. It was even more evident by the sudden change of your mood. 

“Well, from now on I’ll be taking care of you,” Alex moves his hand to caress your cheek. “And I’ll take you on regular drives and trips.”

“Do not touch my sparkmate–”

“Also I brought you a gift!”

He looks down at his backpack as Optimus’ voice subsides. Opening it quickly and showing the content inside it. 

“My favorite chocolate!” you take the pink box from his hands. It was an expensive brand and hard to find. Not available anywhere in the city.  “Thank you! 

Optimus quickly thinks of the things he got you. Dandelions, flowers, rocks. Would you love them just as much? Will you jump in excitement and hug him? Will you see him as fit enough to be your provider, protector and Sparkmate?

“Analysis Complete: Human Male wishes to bond with Sparkmate and steal Sparkling. Activating Sparkmate Protection Codes. Eliminate offering. Keep Sparkmate secluded.”

It’s like he couldn’t control himself. It was fear, confusion and jealousy that overtook his processor. 

Without any announcement, Optimus walks towards you and takes the chocolate box using two of his digits. You watch him with amusement, not understanding his actions. And without any previous warning, he crushes the box. 

The Autobots don’t say a word, flabbergasted at their leader’s actions. 

“I- I am–”

Optimus wanted to apologize but he was so surprised by his own doing that no words left his dermas. 

The room is silent for a few seconds until sobbing is heard coming from you.  Normally, you wouldn’t cry but your hormones have been acting differently, making you more emotionally sensitive.

You run to your room, Alex quickly follows by until the two of you disappear from the hangar. 

“Sparkmate in distress. Advance with caution. In case of Sparkmate rejection, proceed to program Offline codes.” 

Optimus looks at his servo. The pink chocolate box is destroyed. It was a nice gift. Delicate, gentle, genuine. And he destroyed it. All that was left was the result of his own selfish actions. 

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He didn’t know how to approach you. Nor knew if he should. His processor was begging him to go talk to you. 

His pedes hang from the cliff as he sees the stars in the sky. Its a view Cybertron was unknown to.  His home planet, with all of its technological advances, unique traditions and indescribable views could never have this kind of beauty. Yet, it can’t compare to the delicacy of your eyes.

Hearing heavy steps walking towards him, he knows it wasn’t you. Most of the time, he couldn’t tell when you were approaching him, your steps were too small to be heard. Either that or he would smell your scent. 

“You know, the right thing to do is apologize, right?”

Arcee was not one to open up easily. That was something she had in common with Optimus. 

“It would be simple if I knew she would want me to,” he responds, seeing the motorcycle sit next to him.

“... Are all male bots this stupid?”

“I believe so.”

There was silence but it wasn’t awkward. They didn’t need to talk to understand each other. Optimus is a great leader but somewhat stupid when it comes to relationships. It is of no surprise, however. Cybertronian and Human relationships are very different. Cybertron culture is more reserved, sometimes even completely political. As a species living for so long, it’s more about companionship. A long lasting friendship. Finding a Sparkmate was completely rare. Something not everyone would get to experience. 

Humans however … Due to their short lifespan, they were more prone to fall in love and out of love rather fast. 

“My processor has been programmed to do things I deemed as primitive for our kind,” he says. “Sometimes I can’t control it.”

“Then just tell her that,” Arceee puts a servo on his shoulder. Physical contact wasn’t common in Cybertron either. But he didn’t mind. “And apologize … a lot.”

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You started to overthink. A lot. 

Optimus had feelings for you. Of that you were almost certain. You think ‘almost’ because now you weren’t so sure. 

Optimus would live for many years after you are gone. Maybe one day he will finally find the one, his Sparkmate. Where would that leave your child? He has told you that he will be responsible. But is he doing it out of duty or because he has love for his sparkling? You didn’t want him to believe that he is being forced to stay. 

It was a stupid thought. You knew that. But the thought still lingers in the back of your mind. 

“Prime is gonna kill me whenever he finds out I took you out of the base.”

It's always nice to get out of the base during the night. Especially with someone who saw you as an individual instead of just a ‘carrier and savior of an advanced robot race.’ He also drives nicely, not too fast, not too slow. Alex used to be a mechanic, his love for cars was always evident. Even as he drives, you can tell that this is all he ever wanted to do. 

“You know he won’t even kill a fly.”

“Yeah and that’s why it’s so fun to tease him.”

Alex tried to diminish the tension of the previous situation. He didn’t know why Optimus did what he did. But he feels a bit guilty for teasing Optimus as much. Maybe if he hadn't pushed him to his limits, he wouldn't have done such ugly act. 

“Can we go to the beach?”

You ask randomly. 

Alex smiles.

“Sure.”

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When Ratchet informed him that you had gone on a night drive with Alex, he immediately went to your room. 

Why?

It was something even he couldn’t understand.

He knew he wasn’t going to find you there. 

Yet, his processor couldn’t understand how you weren’t here. He needs you. Now. His every circuit aching at the thought of you leaving his side. Carrying his sparkling and with a male who had successfully stolen you from his servos even if it's just for one night. 

He can still smell your scent in your room. Even after he had mass-shifted to enter, the room was still too small for him. He touched the bedsheets and began to miss the moments he has shared with you before in it. 

Where are you?

He needs you now. He needs to hold you, to know that you are safe. To express how much he adores you and the sparkling. 

“Sparkmate Status: Missing. Sparkling Status: Missing. Safety Status: Unknown. If Unable To Locate, Proceed With Solitude Activation Codes.”

He used his Comm-Link to call your cell phone. But nothing. He tried again. Nothing. 

It wasn’t until the 30th time that he understood … You didn’t want to be with him. 

You didn’t want him. 

You didn’t want him.

You didn’t want him. 

His servos tremble. 

Optics feel heavy. It’s strange. Having blue liquid come out of his eyes. He had cried before. For different reasons. This was pain, in its purest form. In a way words can’t describe. Proof of it were his subsided pleas of air as he had forgotten how to breathe, something he didn’t know he could do until he saw you. 

His spark aches. It hurts. Everything. 

Everything …  His everything is gone.

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It was about a 10 hour drive.

Watching the sunrise was always a beautiful experience. Feeling the warm sunlight touch your skin energizes you. It made you forget the previous negative emotions and you began to have this strange yearning. 

For Optimus.

You wanted to be with him. Wishing he could  be here with you along with your unborn child. 

Maybe he had over reacted but knowing Optimus he probably has a good reason for destroying the chocolate box. Was he taking care of your weight? What if chocolate is toxic for sparklings? You wanted to talk to him and make things better–

Oh. 

You were right. You do need the sun. 

“Let’s build a sandcastle.”

Alex could sometimes be like a child, which was fun. There was never a boring moment with him.

“Let’s build an Autobot, instead!”

You let yourself touch the sand and immediately feel something moving inside you. It feels strange. It doesn’t hurt but feels very uncanny. Nonetheless, you smile as you put your hands in your belly. Your sparkling may be more human than you think, also enjoying the activity and fresh air. 

“Do you think will look like his father?”

You ask Alex as he tries to make a small square with his hands, using water from a water bottle. 

He looks at you and then down at his little project. 

“If the child were to live on Cybertron then I would prefer for them to look like Optimus,” he says, trying to think of a delicate way to tell you his opinion. “But since they will be living on Earth, then I genuinely hope they look more human.”

You know you will love the child no matter what. But Alex had a point. What kind of life will the child live if he is too different? Humans can be cruel, especially to those who are different. 

“If something happens to me … will you take care of them?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and looks at you again. His mood had been ruined but it was a question you were meaning to ask. 

“You know childbirth is difficult as it is and well, I am assuming giving birth to the first Human-Cybertronian child would be even more so.”

“You know we’ll have the best doctors in the world for that day,” Alex starts to mold more rectangular boxes as he stacks them up. Meanwhile you have started working on the head. “And if anyone can come out alive out of that it's you.”

He makes a pause and a small laugh escapes from his lips. 

“Besides, didn’t you fuck a 20 feet tall alien robot? You did that and came out fine. Childbirth should be a piece of cake.”

Without any notice, Alex’s mouth is filled with sand. You had thrown him a sand-ball and he started spitting it out and washing his mouth with the remaining water. 

“Hey! It's true!”

“Yes but you didn’t have to say it like that!”

“I don’t blame you, if Arcee would give me the chance, I would hit too–”

You throw more sand at him and he also retaliates. A sandy-battle unleashed as the wind was in your favor. Alex was gentle enough to only attack you below or above your belly. His ‘projectiles’ are extremely small compared to yours and between giggles and laughs, the battle continues until both of your hairs and clothes are covered with sand. 

And then, Alex’s phone begins to ring. 

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“Where is he?”

The sun is still rising. The groundbridge could not stop time. But the time in California and Nevada were the same. 

You run towards Ratchet who is still by the groundbrige system, Alex close by.

“At the top, he is doing better now that I told him you were returning but …” The autobot medic pauses, not finding the right words to describe the situation. “I think you should go and see for yourself.”

You didn’t hesitate and made your way towards the rooftop. Of course, you didn’t run but you moved as fast as your pregnant body could. 

It was a good workout, you were losing your breath as you made your way to the elevator. If you had been in better shape, you would have taken the stairs. 

As you wait to arrive at the top, you could hear the beats of your heart palpitating against your chest. Overthinking is a talent of yours. Many stupid thoughts crossed your head. Thinking that Optimus was too angry at you for leaving the base without permission. You were ready to accept your punishment, whatever that may be. 

Instead, as you arrive at the top of the cliff, there are more questions than answers. 

You find big rocks, with a weight of more than a ton. Two rocks standing vertically and one on top of the two laying horizontally. Like a small house made out of giant rocks, enough space for a single Cybertronian. One that is around 20 feet tall, blue and red that turns into a truck.

Optimus is there but he is too busy spraying dandelions around his small house that he didn’t notice your presence. 

It wasn’t until he turned around that his optics shine in excitement. He almost runs towards but reminds himself to be gentle. Reaching out a servo, you expected him to hold you but he doesn’t he pulls away, using all of his strength to restrain himself. 

“I am glad to see you are safe.”

He says in a soft voice, the relief in his voice is evident and you feel the need to jump into his servos and be embraced by him. But just like him, you stopped yourself from doing so.

“I am glad you are safe too,” you tilted your body a little, your attention directed to the rocks behind. “Ratchet said you were acting … strange.”

Optimus also takes a look at his creation. He wished he could do better but its the best he could do with his limited resources. 

“Yes, you could say so.”

“May I ask, what is going on?”

He has been meaning to tell you but he doesn't know without getting nervous. He didn’t know how you would react. Will you think of him as weird? Disgusting even? But he can’t run away any longer. You are the sword and he is against a dead end with the only option being moving forward.

“Cybertron hasn’t had a sparkling in milenia so to ensure its safety, my processor activated primal codes,” Optimus says. “It makes me do things that may be antiquated.”

Not understanding fully, but if you had to come to a conclusion, Optimus may be going through something similar to animal mating rituals. Which is not so far fetched since Cybertron used to have Predacons before Cybertronians appeared. 

“Is that why you destroyed my chocolate box?”

“Due that we haven’t concluded the Conjunx Ritus, my processor doesn’t consider you as my Conjunx Endura yet, although I consider you my Sparkmate” Optimus blinks multiple times as he only does when he is nervous. “I identified Special Agent Alex’s actions as threatening to steal you and my sparkling.”

“Me?”

“Yes, although those reasons are more … intimate ones.”

Your heart beats faster as the sunlight reflects on his paint-job. He looks beautiful. You once again remember how incredible and extraordinary of an individual he is. There is no one like him in the entire universe and never will. You feel delighted to know that you are in his presence, being able to admire a side not one has seen yet. 

“Oh,” you look away after realizing you had been staring at him for too long.  “And that?”

You point at the rock structure and Optimus optics quickly follow. 

“After you left, I went to look for you at your private quarters,” he kept looking at the rocks and you wonder the struggles he had to go through to carry them to the top. “Not seeing you there activated my Solitude Codes.”

He walks towards the rocks, there are a lot of dandelions. Some of them died. Others are alive. There is some sort of yearning in his optics as if he belongs there. Its a sorrowful yearning, as if he was made to do something that he wishes to not do. Yet, he knows he would be skillful at it. 

“I felt the need to build this.”

“And do what?”

You ask, not wanting to walk closer as you thought that maybe you would be overstepping his boundaries. 

“Wait,” he answers. 

His back faces you. Not being able to see his faceplate, you can only tell how he feels based on his voice box’s tone. He just stands there, looking down. 

“For what?”

“For you to come back.”

He answers so longingly that it makes you almost shed a tear. For a moment, time stops. There is no wind, no sound, no scent, nothing. But just him. As if your entire world had become just him.  

“... And if I didn’t come back?”

He slowly turns to look at you. A soft smile, of  love. There wasn’t any desire in it. It was pure. Genuine. As he is in love with your soul and wishes to spend eternity with the thought of you. With your existence, whatever that was. To be one until the heavens and the earth collide. 

“I would wait until you do.”

And for a second, the Prime no longer was. But just a spark. In his purest form. His faceplates open, he wants to say something but it's lost in words. He had given up so easily. Realizing that he has yet to find the right words to express his love for you. A love so vast that not even the best poets or writers could ever put into paper. 

If he could go back in time and stop himself from becoming a Prime, he would. Because being an archivist would have made him more eloquent, maybe then, he could describe to you a small fraction of his endless adoration. 

“Prime–”

“Guys!” Alex came out of the elevator, screaming and ruining the moment. “Sorry to interrupt but we have a message coming from Megatron!”

He tilts his head outside the elevator, blue eyes staring at the two of you. Noticing that he interrupted a romantic scenario, he just pointed a finger at the two of you. 

“Prime we need you, please make-out quickly!”

And with that, Alex leaves as soon as he appeared. 

“Well, now that you are here, I won’t be using this,” Optimus walks towards you and bends down on one knee. He is still too tall but you appreciate that he tries to see you faceplate to face. Using a servo, he caresses your hair and your soft skin. With so much adoration and devotion. 

  “I don’t have much time but I realized I haven’t thank you yet for carrying my Sparkling.”

He wants to hold you. Craving it. He wishes he could have time to tell you more. To whisper in your ears sweet things. To read to you the most lovely of poems. To just rot in a bed, indulging in nothing but love. 

But he can’t. Not now. 

“Creating a new life with you has been the greatest honor of my life.” 

He stands up, walks past you. Leaving you at a shock, at a state of awe. 

“Now, let us go,” he says. “Some things can’t wait.”

He'll wait until you call him by his first name again.

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A/N: It was fun to write this. Optimus panicking and not understanding the changes he is going through. I think on this he has accepted that he may not win you back but that won't stop him from loving you and his sparkling. Meanwhile you are falling for him all over again.

I wrote this because y'all liked the concept for Counting Stars and supported it a lot! So thank you everyone so much for the support.

This was a one shot and I continued it because there was lots of love but I don't have a certain story-line. To be honest I don't know how to continue it.

For the next chapter (if there is one) I was thinking that Megatron accidentally sends Reader to the Dark Dimension where Reader meets Nemesis Prime. In this dimension, Optimus loses Reader and his Sparkling, transforming him into an evil being.

Meanwhile in Reader's dimension, Optimus is losing it. Slowly spiraling into madness at the thought of never seeing Reader and his Sparkling again. Destroying everything on sight, the Autobots fight to keep Optimus at bay.

The plot would end with Optimus and Nemesis fighting to see who would keep Reader.

That storyline would take around 2-3 chapters and it would conclude this story.

But that is just a thought, I still don't if I'll continue this since I really need to focus on writing the next chapter for 'The Darkest Hour'

And I am currently working on a oneshot bayverse Optimus fic too so please look forward to it!

Again thank you for reading and sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes.

See You in the next story!

Previous:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/771132293279580160/counting-stars?source=share

Next:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/776307342250803200/counting-stars?source=share

[carionto]

Ultimate preparation

There comes a time in every alien's life when a Human asks them this simple question:

"Wanna hang out over the weekend?"

This may seem like a casual, innocent, even good-willed inquiry, but do NOT be fooled. Your life is in danger now.

The safest thing to do is to politely decline using one of the numerous pre-designed excuses:

"I have errands to run."

"My olfactory sensor needs a manual checkup."

"The renovators are coming over then."

"I've contracted gout."

However, due to cultural differences, make sure to consult your local veterinarian for more relevant anecdotes to supplement your avoidance success rate.

For those that feel they have become friends with said Human and cannot reject their offer we strongly advise to read up on every nearby "amusement park" and "thrill ride" avenue and acquire the best safety equipment and life insurance policy.

Next, learn everything you can about the Human who asked you to "hang out." Decipher their mental maturity through everything they post on social media. Analyze any photos they share of times they describe as "fun" and isolate all potential hazards they interact with. Look up their medical history for blunt force traumas and accidents. Surveil their every move and discover how much of a threat they are to others and themselves on a daily basis. Make them fill out the psychological profile survey disguised as a quirky "Which Trek Wars character are you" in the Helpful Resources section.

"Hanging out" with a Human is certain to involve at least one of, typically several, if not all, of the following:

Imbibing toxic/poisonous substances (alcohol, drugs, chocolate)

Extreme physical activity (rock climbing, skiing, yoga)

Psychological stress (theme parks, horror movies, comedy game shows)

Emotional/intellectual damage (talking about their failed relationships, ranting about politics, explaining an OC)

Always ascertain exactly WHAT your Human intends to do during this "hanging out" session. If the answer is vague, and after taking into account everything above, use your best judgement to decide.

But remember - safety first. Not only is your life at risk, but so is the Human's. They can be incredibly empathetic, so if you choose to go along to avoid hurting their feelings, but get hurt yourself during the "hang out", this may result in great emotional harm done to the Human as well, and physical as well if they attempt to save you from the harm they inadvertently put you in.

Be smart, be prepared.

[zazaiafe2]

The power of sensory immersion for shifting

1) Why is sensory immersion so powerful?

Your brain doesn't really distinguish between an imagined and a real sensory experience

When you engage your senses (sight, sound, touch, smell...), you create .almost real signals.

This activates deep neural networks of immersion and facilitates letting go.

-> Sensory immersion helps to blur the line between CR and DR.

2) Do NOT force visualization

-> "I can't visualize" -> It's not a problem

Many shifters have noticed:

The more you FORCE the images, the more the analytical mind stays active.

The goal: let the sensations come naturally.

You don't need to perfectly "see" everything. You can:

- Feel-> Emotions, sensations.

- Hear -> Sounds from your DR.

- Imagine textures-> Your DR bed.

- Create ambiances.

3) Sensory profiles are different

We don't all have the same dominant sense. Find your strength:

- Olfactory : Imagined smells (perfume, rain, food)

- Auditory : Music from your DR, background sounds (cafes, forest, city, rain…)

- Visual: Blurred decors, dominant colors, symbols, your DR room

- Tactile: Skin sensations (wind, sheets, fabrics…)

- Gustatory: Taste of what you eat there

-> Identify which senses are easiest to invoke for you. Start with them.

For example, you can listen to this ambient sound if you shift to Hogwarts.

4) Scientific help, the role of the Default Mode Network

Your brain has a network that calms down when you immerse yourself sensorially.

This reduces internal dialogue and the "critical mind" that often blocks you.

-> The less your mind analyzes, the more your unconscious takes over, and ego identification decreases.

5) How to let images and sounds come without forcing

1) Breathe slowly .

2) Allow yourself to be blurry.

3) Start with small simple scenes.

4) Observe rather than actively create.

5) Don't look for "perfection", just try to "feel".

-> The more you let go, the more details come by themselves.

You can do a short meditation beforehand to relax and help you be in the present moment.

6) The importance of ASC (Altered States of Consciousness)

Immersion is facilitated in ASC (hypnagogic state, deep relaxation, light trance, it's not mandatory but seems to make things easier).

You can:

- Practice before sleep.

-Do gentle meditation .

- Use appropriate binaural sounds .

-> The altered state allows the analytical mind to disconnect and facilitates fusion with your DR.

Just after meditation you can put a subliminal or alpha waves for example

Julia method link

There are even subliminals that mix theta wave, affirmations and Sound atmosphere.

7) Practical examples according to your profile and what you prefer

- Auditory: Playlist of your DR during preparation

- Visual: Very simple scenes (just a dominant color at first, then an object where you are, and a room if you can)

- Tactile: Feel the sheet of your DR bed, the warmth of the sun, the texture of your DR pajamas

- Gustatory: Imagine tasting your DR breakfast

- Emotional: Feel the emotions you will have in your DR

-> The more you rely on YOUR strong channel, the more stable immersion becomes.

Examples of what people who shift on command can use

8) Do not try to control when the shift happens

-> Sensory immersion is a springboard.

The shift often triggers when you are immersed without trying to control the moment.

- Have fun "visiting" before "leaving."

- Release tension about the result.

- Obsession with the result blocks(Or at least decrease the chances); curiosity opens.

Even if you have trouble visualizing, you can rely on other things or your other senses.

9) What we learn from those who shift on command

Many report that this kind of non-forced immersion is key.

It's a balance:

->Sensory engagement + letting go = smoother shift.

Conclusion :Sensory immersion: a powerful tool, accessible to all.

No matter your profile.

You don't need to "visualize perfectly" .

You only need to play with your senses, let the experience build gently.

Remember: your brain is made for this.

[elysianightsss]

So….so…..so like imagine you’re an amazing scientist with medical training and all that. You got kidnapped by General Shepherd and taken to an underground facility only to be presented with a soldier who’s been shot in the head. They give you one command, heal him or your family dies.

It takes you a while and there were plenty of complications but soon the mohawked soldier opens his eyes with a groan. He fights against the restraints holding him down to the hospital like bed, a crazed look in his eyes when General Shepherd mulls him over like he’s admiring a new pet.

Then you’re given more commands, fix him or your family dies. Make him obedient or your mother will be punished. Make him follow our orders or your father will be shot. Make him keep his mouth shut or your sister will be used.

Follow all our commands and your family remains safe.

So you brainwash the soldier to obey orders without any back talk, to be a hollow docile puppet. A weapon of your own design simply by smell. A pheromonal lock working to keep him compliant. Though seeing him berated and abused has you feeling guilt in the pit of your stomach it leads you to be somewhere you shouldn’t be.

You have to be sneaky but you’re soon in a room you’re not allowed in, pulling open file cabinets until you find it. A warn down, thick, green paper file with the word SOAP stamped on the front. You learn that the soldier’s name is Johnny, that he was part of an SAS team.

Reading his file makes your heart ache for him, the guilt churning your stomach so much so you make sure to add a fail safe into him when no one is around. Severing the olfactory nerve would stop any sense of smell stopping Johnny from being compliant but you could never bring back the man he was before that bullet lodged into his skull.

You could see it in his eyes, he was empty. You couldn’t bare how hollow he was with no memories and no feelings, or so you thought. Johnny on the other hand had only one thing on his mind; you.

You were the only one who was nice to him, sweet to him. Always patching him up after rough missions. Always giving an extra helping of food or an extra blanket and a warm drink on cold nights. So caring just to him, he noticed.

So when the 141 tracked down the facility after hearing the whispers of Johnny being alive, he protects you against them. Growling and snarling like a feral animal when Simon gets too close to you. Sticking himself between you and the giant lieutenant.

“Back away!” He’s screeching, his hand gripping tight on your arm to hold you in place behind his back. They’re shocked to see him alive let alone protecting a stranger from them. You can’t help but feel a rush in your veins like getting light headed after one too many drags of nicotine.

He’s protecting you from his former team and the feeling is delicious. Suddenly you’re in his arms “Don’t worry angel,” he breathing hard into your ear holding you tight to his chest as he stares at his team mates as if they’re the enemies. “they’re not gonna touch you.”

To be continued….possibly.

[scribblecon]

Okay so this is like some headcanons about cybertronians and smells. Like how they might respond to human reader wearing different perfumes and the natural scents cybertronians may have. No specific bot in mind for any of these they’re just general headcanons. I’m turning into a perfume freak this has been on my mind all day lol.

—

Humans have a weaker sense of smell, so can’t always pick up on the more subtle aspects of cybertronian scents without forming a strong bond with a bot. Cybertronians, meanwhile, can have a very advanced sense of smell with the ability to adjust the sensitivity of their olfactory sensors at will, even temporarily shutting them down when necessary.

Generally speaking, cybertronians have a metallic, ozonic scent to them, with unique hints of other things unique to the individual bot. Some are a bit earthier while others have a strange alien spiciness to their smell that you can’t really place. Usually, their personal scents are more like pheromones than body odour, practically unnoticeable to humans and only noticed by other cybertronians if their olfactories are cranked to the max with some exceptions. Usually in cases of physical intimacy or heightened emotions, their scent will become stronger and then potentially linger for a while after.

Bots find perfume kind of weird at first. Layering scents over your natural odour is a completely foreign concept to them, some are curious as to why you might do such a thing while others dismiss it as frivolous and silly. If you’re clean why do you need to smell like something other than yourself? Humans can get pretty stinky but you don’t smell bad so why do you spray that stuff on your wrists?

Most cybertronians find gourmand perfumes to be particularly strange smelling due to human food and the smells associated being so alien to them. The same goes for fruity and floral notes. A lot of bots find them overwhelming at best, though some find them exotic or mysterious, the way spicy and incense based fragrances can be for humans.

Those with beast modes tend to be more tolerant of sweeter fragrances with fruity or floral notes, their alt modes giving them slightly more organic leanings by default. Even if they aren’t techno-organic, there’s still an instinctual pull to certain organic scents that they can’t really explain.

On the other hand, bots tend to respond well to fragrances that have smoky or ozonic elements to them, as it’s a bit closer to their own scents. Tobacco, incense and boozy notes can also hold an appeal along with certain earthier notes, depending on the cybertronian.

Regardless of their personal preferences, they’re all fascinated by how the same perfume can smell completely different on a person compared to a sample paper. Explaining skin PH levels and the chemical reactions perfume can have upon skin contact is gonna blow their processors. Maybe certain fragrances that are too strange for your bot on their own settle into something more appealing once you’ve been wearing the scent for half an hour and it’s had a chance to develop? Perhaps even become oddly intoxicating for them, the foreign aromas blending with your natural scent to create something new.

Some more possessive bots might be against you wearing perfume if you’re in a relationship. Being intimate means sharing their scent, essentially marking you as their own. Adding extra fragrances on top of their own scent could be interpreted as a form of rejection, trying to smother their claim on you with something else. It’s one thing if you’re wearing perfume for yourself in private, but going out where others might interact with you when your bot’s scent has been covered up? That’s unacceptable. You belong to them, okay?

Others, if they develop an appreciation for fragrance and learn about layering scents, may encourage you to try different lighter fragrances alongside the scent they’ve marked you with. Turn it into something more a combination of the two of you, rather than simply claiming you as their own. Also, by pushing their personal scent to the background, it prevents you from accidentally broadcasting just how intimate your relationship with your bot is.

[rabotimagines]

"Pet names" pt4 GN BOT Reader + Soundwave (His cassettes), Starscream, Megatron

Summary: Reader has become partial to using human pet names for everyone.

Warnings: Megatron mentions of thinking of hitting Reader but it's light hearted all things considered.

G1 characters: Soundwave (and his cassettes), Starscream, Megatron

Genre/Theme: Platonic/light crush vibes

Notes: Con Bot Reader! Reader is higher ranking in the Decepticons and knows how to fight. Reader is said to be more loyal to the cause then Megatron necessarily. Reader is written as older bot in mind.

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Soundwave Isn't expecting too much to go wrong today, since it was only an inventory day on the nemesis. You pass him the datapads he requested from you and he almost immediately drops them all when you speak. "Here ya go, Love. let me know if there's any issues with 'em" Soundwave freezes at the term but also has no feasible clue as to what his next course of action should be in this situation. But at his sudden silence you only meet his visor and a smile curls on your derma. And then your em field brushes warm across his side- But Soundwave doesn't say anything when you then turn on your pede and head to go back to your own tasks. And Soundwave is stuck standing with a stack of datapads in his servos for longer than he'd admit to, till he finally forces himself to place the pile on his desk. Then Ravage comes running back a few joors later asking to dock and he complies- and is promptly hit by the visual of you calling Skywarp "Babe" and he's suddenly now aware you've just seemingly begun to do this.

Soundwave admittedly does enjoy it. It was simple and there was no harm to your actions. A smile there, a name there, em field warm to the touch and filled with something almost... delicate. Soundwave did admittedly crave some form of domesticity, it was quite literally embedded in his coding with his frame type. The Decepticons didn't operate on such things so he's long learned to savor the small moments he'd occasionally share with his cassettes behind closed doors. But the affections you offered would make his frame want to instinctively lean forward for your em field to simply feather across his frame faster. So Soundwave allows himself the small enjoyment since there's no deceit in your field or frame when you do so. It's something that soothes the slight ache of wariness in his joints and fills the gaps in his plating.

Theres also the fact he's gotten a heaping amount of blackmail from recording the other Decepticons various reactions to your actions. Some were obviously violent with you promptly putting unruly soldiers back in their places before calling them sweet names again with a hint of bite when they were flat on their afts. He knows you know how to handle yourself and you were still a high ranking officer so the only one who could technically order you to stop was Megatron himself. But you didn't tend to report the insubordination itself. So Soundwave may as well keep the acting out recorded for when he needs to remind someone that Soundwave has his own ways of keeping the rabble in line. There was also the few recordings of some who didn't fight back and optics would brighten harsh enough their faceplates would either risk coloring or would color cobalt. Which were also quite a good source of blackmail for Soundwave.

-

For the cassettes it's only funny when it's someone else. Whether it's Soundwave or another one of them your attention is on. They're smiling and chuckling over whoever is on the receiving end. Laserbeak and Ravage are the fastest to not care about image since their already prone to physical attention due to both their alt modes being beasts. Getting a helm pat while you coo and call them "Gorgeous" has them both pushing back against you fast for more affection. The twins (and Buzzsaw) are hardafts about it, Scoffing and turning their olfactories up at you. Rumble actually does enjoy it a lot but you wouldn't be able to squeeze that outta him. No chance in pit! They all collectively enjoy watching Soundwave being on the receiving end more though. They can physically feel Soundwaves reactions to your affections and its hysterical every time Soundwave is shocked for half a nanoklick before bashfulness gets snuffed out of the bond link. (It's never fast enough that the cassettes can't feel it first though).

They're little slaggers and will not hesitate to push you to interact with Soundwave for something even if they do have the information just because they wanna see you inflicted on Soundwave. Soundwave catches on fast however and immediately begins doing the opposite to them. Turning you on his cassettes for something even when Soundwave already has the information, and watching them promptly fumble with the attention. You've unknowingly become a game to them all which is who can they get to interact with you and watch their optics brighten in real time. It's funnier if whichever con tries to fight you for it because the cassettes already know they're gonna just watch you knock somebot on their aft.

-

Starscream is ranting about Megatrons latest easily avoidable battle fumble that could have been avoided, if he allowed Starscream to kill Optimus last battle instead of stupidly let the mech get back up again. It was time for a high command meeting and it's you and him waiting on Soundwave and Megatron. Starscream knew you entertained his ideas and Starscream knew sparkdamn well your loyalties lied more with the cause then Megatron. So he wastes no chance to try and persuade you to join his side over Megatrons whenever he can. You just leaned your faceplate against your own servo which was propped up on the meeting table. "Darling, you know perfectly well how he is with Prime. He's possessive, and knows he'll only get to kill him once. Megatron wants to savor the death of Optimus Prime." You stated as if it were so matter of factually and not simply that your bumbling leader did whatever he pleased regardless of if it was detrimental to the Decepticon cause.

He thinks on what you'd said longer and scoffs, his wings flicking at the battle memory. Then his optics widen a touch when he thinks you'd just called him "Darling"? No No you definitely had just started that statement off by calling Starscream darling. Starscreams gaze snaps back to you with questions but your expression betrayed nothing at all, expression and em field completely neutral. Had you- Not realized you'd done that? You met Starscreams gaze and a smirk curled on your derma. "What's wrong, love?" Your em field lightly brushing against his side has Starscreams expression furrowing before he can even attempt to hide his own befuddlement. Then Megatron walked into the room with Soundwave and both your helms snapped to them instead. Starscream doesn't know what the pit you were playing at then but then sees you say something flirtatious with Skywarp of all bots- then Soundwave, and then hes demanding to know if you've had your personality module shorted when they weren't looking. But you just smirked at him in the infuriating way you did and say "What? I just think the Cons could use a little TLC." Starscream cannot hide his sneer when you explain what "TLC" means. You were Decpticon warriors! Not blasted organics in a cheap shoddy excuse for a romantic film. Skywarp actually growled at him when Starscream told him to act like his sparkdamned position, and not hike his wings so high in the air when you interacted with him. Growled at him! Starscream was going to shoot that idiot the next chance he got.

Starscream hates your little excuse of a habit and he's starting to hate interacting with you. Every meeting is an infuriating term, or smile, or all spark forbid you try and fan your em field out against him again- he might just threaten to end you there and then! Starscream was a war frame! Not just any war frame but the second in command in the Decepticons! Your position aside, you still were not above Starscream in rank! The only time he actually lets you is on accident- when his guard drops. Starscream returned from a mission with an earth item they needed for their plans and had to outgun and quickly outrun the Autobots by himself. And what does he get when he returns? Megatrons infuriating unappreciative aft telling him he should've been faster. Starscream is seething off to the side when a servo grasps his arm and Starscream whips his helm around ready to fight, obviously, and its you. "Great job out there, Darling." You say with a smile and your em field fully presses against Starscream and it is warm. Your thumb rubs a slow press against were you're holding his arm and then you simply let go and leave.

Starscream would have shot you if his embarrassment caught up to him before you'd left. But instead he's stuck standing there like a fool alone with his wings hiked high in the air without his own input. His own optics burning. Starscreams engine growled under his own vents and he stomped off to go get ready for the impending battle. He was going to slag you for this foolery one day! (Starscream does not even entertain to fleeting thought to find you to next time he completes a task. The thoughts dead and smelted as soon as it has the audacity to form.)

-

Megatron knows were your loyalties lie but you were competent and a good solider so he has no qualms with them. After all you'd simply stated you'd tell him yourself if you thought you had to kill him for the sake of the Decepticon cause. Megatron laughed knowing you were completely and utterly serious about that. He simply offered the same sentimentality back to you. He'd known you for a very very long time so the clarity of were you both stood on any situation was typically warranted. That said after vorns of knowing you he's still not ready when your giving him your verbal report and you hold out the datapad with the written report still on the screen for him to take. "All that said not too much to regard about, Sweetspark. Thankfully the mission went off without much of a hitch." Megatron stops were he is and at that point he's in the middle of taking the datapad, servo still holding onto the electronic device and held in front of himself. And Megatron stares back at you letting what you'd just said settle in the silence. You don't open your mouth again to explain yourself so Megatron opens his.

"Are you- overcharged you fool? What... buffoonery are you trying to accomplish here?" And Megatron looks at your optics to genuinely check if they are any brighter as a sign of overcharge but their the same brightness they always typically are. He watches a smirk curl on your derma and feels amusement fan in your em field- He knows because Megatron can blatantly feel it brushing against his chassis. It's not strictly unpleasant- but it is foreign enough he has to suppress the instinctive urge to pull back.

"Ah, Sorry Sir," Your em field flexes warmer when the word leaves your mouth, "Learned that praise is apparently shown to encourage morale and good behavior. It's been working with the other cons so far. Even got some of the usual misbehaving rabble to start acting more... proper." You were doing this with the soldiers.

"Has it now?" You only nodded unperturbed still by the situation. You were competent and if the unruly soldiers listened when you had no regard for indulging the brutes in such a thing he couldn't exactly argue against it. However- "Hm, Do not use such terms when we're not alone. It would be ill advised for the others to hear me referred to by such things." Your smirk widens and further amusement curls against Megatrons frame and he as to resist to urge to try and strike you for it. Knowing fully well you'd more than likely dodge and would rightfully try and strike him one back. (Before likely booking it out of his throne room before Megatron could stand properly.) Megatron enjoys it more than he would ever admit, even to you. Your smile, Your unrestrained em field, and he even enjoys the rather confounded little names you'd use whenever you were alone with one another. It didn't make much logical sense considering how ridiculous the entire affair was but Megatron wanted you to continue doing it. And Megatron was never restrained with his own desires.

He does however restrain himself when he suddenly gets the baffling urge to reach a servo out and brush his knuckles against your faceplate one night. Something so ridiculously... chummy was not something Megatron would stoop low enough to perform. So he instead lets his plating lax a touch more than usual when your em field brushes against his own frame. You were simply putting work into the sanctity of the Deception cause. Nothing more, nothing less...

[muletia]

[tfp] obsessed!orion pax x human!reader valveplug, minors don't interact!

based on this delicious ask about orion overloading from inhaling your pheromones and some tags provided by @tom-foolery-incorporated <3

word count: 800

Holding Orion’s helm on both sides, you pull him toward you, feeling no resistance from the startled mech. His faceplate lands against your chest, and you immediately envelop him in warmth, letting him sink into the softness of your human body. The familiar shape of your torso and the rhythmic symphony of your heartbeat give him a sense of comfort and belonging, as if, after a long, exhausting day, he has finally found his way home. Orion lifts his optics to you and smiles in gratitude, though you cannot see the expression.

“I missed you,” you murmur tenderly, pressing a kiss to the top of his helm.

“I am glad that our feelings…” he begins, but his words are abruptly cut off by the sudden, unfamiliar scent flooding his olfactory sensors.

It is sweet, unmistakably yours, yet tainted with something unknown — something he cannot name. Has no time to analyze it before the scent overwhelms him, urging to flee, to pull away before it does irreversible damage to his processor. Escaping should not be a challenge; after all, you are not restraining him, granting him full freedom to move. But the problem is that he hesitates to run.

One breath. Then another. And another. Each inhale draws the scent deeper, seeping into his very core, coating his spark, his tank, until it finally reaches the most sensitive parts of his frame, teasing them mercilessly. It creeps behind his interface panel, wrapping around his spike and valve, luring them into a dance with the desire that consumes him in an instant. Just moments ago, all he had wanted was to hold you close, whispering sweet words in your ear, but now — now, the image of sliding his spike into your tight, burning-hot folds is the only thought left in his processor. The only thing he wants to think about. The only thing he can.

Orion takes another involuntary breath, stress-induced from the sudden onslaught of overwhelming need, and it seals his fate.

“[Name]!” he cries out, voice breaking. His concealed spike spasms, and from its tip, thick strands of pink transfluid spill out, splattering against his panel before slowly dripping downward, seeping into the seams, finding their way out. Some rivulets trail down his thighs, while others pool onto the floor beneath him.

“Orion, did you just come?” you ask bluntly. Watching the way his back arches, his optics roll upward, and listening to the symphony of his stifled moans, you are certain of the answer. You should be surprised — after all, you had barely given him any real stimulation to get him to overload — but you know your partner well enough to have learned just how little he needs to unravel. Still, the meaner part of you, the one that always surfaces when Orion is deliciously pathetic, wants to see undeniable evidence of his overload.

“Move your head. I want to see.”

“Ah!” Orion whimpers. “N-No, do not look,” he pleads, suddenly ashamed of the intensity of his own desperation.

His embarrassment does not last long, though, because Orion does not want to pull away. He does not want to lose this intoxicating sense of helplessness, this loss of control that breathing in your scent grants him. He wants to stay right here, drunk on your sweetness.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, now you’re getting shy? Please, I’ve seen you worse.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, barely processing your words. He inhales again, this time intentionally, and just like before, your scent floods his body. His still-hard, aching spike throbs, pleading for another overload, and his valve clenches around nothing, echoing the demand. He has no choice but to take in more of your scent, to drown himself in it. He presses himself against you harder, as if trying to meld into your body, rubbing his faceplate against your chest in a desperate chase for another untouched, hands-free climax.

Forgetting his own immense strength, he unwittingly forces you several steps backward, making you struggle to keep your balance.

“Hey!” you yelp, giving him a light, scolding pat on the helm. “I almost fell!”

That, finally, seems to snap him out of it — at least for a moment. Orion lifts his optics to meet yours, guilt flickering in his gaze. “A-apologies,” he murmurs, but his focus does not last long. He immediately buries his faceplate back against you, sensitive olfactory sensors dragging over your torso, trying to provoke another overload.

“Ah! [Name], please, help me!” he whines, his voice raw with need. He has to be inside you. Needs to ground himself, to find something solid to cling to, or else he fears he will completely lose his mind.

You sigh, feigning exasperation. “As you wish, love.” and Orion hurriedly retracts his transfluid-slick interface panel.

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Um. Been feeling some kind of way, so have some fluff.

Price x Reader

banner @/diviniyae

You'd given John the slip. 

Zipping through the familiar aisles of one of your favorite stores. You had to see if it was still there.

It didn't matter.

But it did.

You scuttle over to the clearance endcap you had originally seen it on, nestled between the other poor plush toys that sat a little too long for the retail stores liking.

You've always had a soft spot for stuffed animals. Happy little creatures that had always been close friends for a lonely little girl. 

With a little digging you find it again. A big green alligator tucked away, weighted beads lining its belly, tail, and limbs.

It was perfect. Not too stiff, no yucky sherpa, no weird scratchy fabrics for its eyes or teeth. 

Just a perfectly huggable critter, with a weight that soothed just to hold in your arms. 

You'd been eyeballing it for weeks, the toy too expensive for you to justify.

You were a grown woman.

You didn't need plushies.

But with it in sale~

Your only barrier was getting it past John. 

You still felt a little embarrassment about your proclivities. You were sensitive, always have been. From yout busy noggin to every extremity.

You were careful about the fabric of your bedding, hands gliding over every fabric and stitch to test against your skin, the type of light bulbs you purchased. Hell, you even had to ration your sniffs when looking for new candles because one too many smell tests would have your skull aching. The wrong candle choice an olfactory nightmare if allowed into your home. 

Preferences that stacked and stacked and stacked into something that you felt made you look fussy, obtuse for the sake of it.

Too much. 

But not to John. 

John took it all in stride. Of course he did. 

Your needs weren’t criticised or scoffed at. He asks questions, tries to learn, stands beside you patiently while you hem and haw while picking out produce. 

You knew in your little heart if you walked up to him with the plush in hand he wouldn't argue or balk. 

You just felt…silly. Especially for what you wanted it for. 

Needed it for.

John had become part of your carefully curated routine. He was your morning coffee and cherry scented body wash, an unnegotiable presence in your ‘nest’ he'd teasingly called it. Pillows arranged carefully to cocoon you in just right. John on your free side closest to the door, heavy arm slung over your ribs.

He was warmth, safety, an anchor that centered you amongst the waves of stimulus your brain was keen to stand under and drown.

You would never admit quite how miserable you were when he was gone, a piece of you in vertigo until he returned.

So.  Finding a substitute was in order. 

You'd foolishly tried a weighted blanket to mimic his weight against you. Yet the miracle accessory that seemed to soothe most, only made you feel suffocated in its own special way, your legs unable to cricket like you needed. 

Too much. 

Just another one of many.

It wasn't until you'd fallen asleep studying, heavy textbook against your belly that you found the key to your Johnless insomnia. Something about the familiar pressure against your chest, and John's scent still lingering on your sheets had you dozing instantly. 

You just needed something a little softer. A little heavier.

Just like the little gator in your arms, and with just a small spritz of John's cologne you could be set.

“Who've you got there sweetheart?”

You jump, flinging the plush critter onto the shelf, immediately feeling bad for treating it that way as you whirl to face John. 

He stands just behind you, round cheeks pulled into an amused smile. 

“I was just touchin’ stuff” you shrug quickly, forcing yourself to meet John's eyes in an attempt to look genuine. His eyes don't give him away, they never do, but the slight cock of his head does. A purposeful tell, an option for you to tell the truth.

You won't.

It's a stare down for a moment, a common tactic between the two of you, watching and waiting for the other to break. It's usually you regardless of whether or not you look away first and when John hums, noncommittal, baby blues flickering to the little green reptile you know you've lost once again.

He scoops it up from the pile, holding it almost carefully, turning it this way and that. “Cheeky isn't he?” John chuckles, thumbs rubbing over the embroidered white teeth. He points the gators snout in your direction. 

“Even made of that material you like. Real soft. Feel.” he comments, petting his fingers over the velvety ridges on its back as he balances it in his wide palm, offering it out to you.

You know. 

It's why you chose it. You run your nails over the velvety plush fabric, the texture soothing some itchy little part of your brain as the fabric glides under your nail. You could pet it until you wore holes in it, just like your well loved plushies before it. 

You know you sound like a child but you say it anyway, squeezing the beads of the toys little foot between your fingers. The sound not too loud or crackly. 

“He's cute. I like the weight of him, seems very huggable.” you try to say casually, but one look at John's all knowing eyes confirms that he knows something. He may not know exactly what he is onto, but he knows he's onto something. 

The bastard.

“Well let's not leave him by himself” John says, plopping the little beast into your shared basket, its blank stare holding yours amongst the bags of vegetables and snacks. “If anything I'm sure the dog would love him.”

You just barely fight the urge to smack him on the arm. 

Absolutely, not. That little fella did not survive retail hell to get torn up by some animal.

You just barely bite back your scandalized gasp, laughing nervously as a way to fill the space between you as you make your way to the check out, letting John handle the bagging while you thumb through the coupons on your phone. 

The drive home is nice, quiet, the pair of you sitting in comfortable silence, John's hand in yours over the center console. Another routine, the man clicking his fingers toward his palm to get your attention until you slip your hand in his. 

You fool with the radio, relishing in the brush of his thumb against the back of your hand, mulling over your plan on squirrelling away your new plush friend.

Once home, John ushers you inside with a fond swat to your ass and a kiss, loading  all your bags onto one arm as you scurry inside to make room for it all. Your dog watching patiently from the doorway as you move back and forth. Tail thwapping against the floor as he watches the lair of you move back and forth. 

Your grocery routine is a well oiled machine, the pair of you moving around each other easily as you rearrange your current stock to make room for the new. John stealing kisses or sneaking in pinches to your rear every time you bend over. And with only a minimal amount of grab-assing the small mountain of groceries dwindle until nothing remains.

Nothing. 

Which is another problem. 

You frown, dig through the leftover plastic on the kitchen table, in search of your prize. You double check the truck, search all through the living room and hallway. The little green plushie nowhere to be found. 

John raises a brow at you and you do your best not to seem only mildly disappointed. “I can't find the alligator….” you trail, looking under the table, just to be sure. 

John searches with you, checking the same paths, and after several passes you both conclude he must have been left behind. 

You gnaw your lip, try not to appear too stressed about it. 

You want to cry really. It's a small mishap, could have happened to anyone. 

But of course it would happen to you. 

You'd been so close, after watching it for weeks and now it was gone. Left all by its lonesome in some checkout line or worse, left outside to face the elements. 

The store was too far of a drive to justify driving back too. And you weren't about to call the store and ask. 

We'll order one, love. John tells you, but it's not the same. 

It was just a toy, and you weren't about to look like a lunatic in front of your partner about it.

So you hide your moping, curl up on the couch with your favorite blanket and fulfill your duty of choosing a movie for the pair of you while John gets your pizza out of the oven.  

You eat like your supposed too, you even sit through the whole movie without fussing with your phone. Your soft cheek pressed against his bicep,  arm tangled in his as you play with his fingers, tracing the lines against his palm as you distract yourself. 

You hadn't realized you'd fallen asleep until John jostles you with scruffy kisses to your face, rumbly voice sliding underneath you like a net, pulling you up from fuzzy half dreams, nice and easy.

You love him. 

It's the first thing you think of when your brain comes back online, your saving grace amongst all the bad luck. 

You love him dearly. After years of thinking that you'd never find another who's existence could meld with yours. Who'd see your spinning wheels fit to crash and simply take the wheel and steer rather than slam on the breaks. Leave you behind in mangled burnt rubber. 

You love him when he comes home quiet, smelling like iron and gunpowder. You love him when he emerges warm and soft, melted down in the warmth of your shared home and smelling like your shampoo.

You love him even when he puts the cups on the wrong side of the cabinet, or when he fusses with the seat in your truck; even when he forgets silly little plushies at the grocery store. 

You love him when he guides you upstairs, herding you into the bathroom to wash your tired face. Helping you brush your teeth with watermelon toothpaste because the regular mint was too much on your sensitive gums. 

You think you fall in love with him all over again when you shuffle down the hall, warm and clean and dressed in pajamas that were formerly Johns, and swing open the door to see innocent little eyes staring back at you. 

Your green little gator nestled against your pillow, tucked in and waiting for you. 

You waste no time lunging for the thing, scooping it up by its stubby arms and hugging it close, the unmistakable scent of John's cologne dusted onto its velvety fur. You bury your nose there, breathing deep.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

Your eyes well with happy tears that you just barely manage to keep corralled into your eyeballs. 

John comes into view a moment later leaning against the doorway with a know-it-all smirk on his face. How he managed to sneak the toy upstairs was beyond you. You're almost convinced he's a mind reader. 

Bastard. 

“Now I may not be as cute as he is, but your not goin’ to replace me are you?”

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head in the negative as you scurry over to him, wrapping the bulk of him up in a great big hug.

He squeezes you back, planting another soft kiss to the top of your head. A pleased little rumble rolling from his chest as you squeeze tight, murmuring a soft thank and softer kiss just above his heart. 

Every ounce of embarrassment or uncertainty about your trivial little gift gone with the wind as you both crawl into bed, a warm, weighted alligator nestled between you and the love of your life. 

[frostgears]

nose goes

you rubbed the scar on the underside of your columella for the hundredth time that evening and the millionth time in the last three weeks. fucker still itched. some tiny splinter of a dissolvable suture slowly working its way out of your nose, and you'd know no peace until it was ejected. though afterward wasn't looking great either.

---

"hey, newbie," Emerald had said. "we have pretty good health care. get your nose unfucked. i'm tired of looking at it."

"oh," you'd said, dumbfounded, "i can get that fixed? regimental medics said not to bother." it had been bent since you bashed it against the inside of a miniframe with a bad jump booster. they'd said there was a line for operationally necessary care and your nose wasn't messed up enough to even get in it.

the director's raptor of an assistant had cocked her head to the side. you were still learning the specialized biology vocabulary you weren't sure if you'd live long enough to need, but "raptor" seemed right: skinny, sharp features, unclear if she blinked, probably ate lizards.

"military healthcare is shit. don't exceed three gees while healing, don't shove anything up there, don't miss work," she'd said, and flicked a net address to your handheld. a civilian medical appointment.

you should have known that it had been too easy. you'd woken up in a room that hadn't been the one you'd gone to sleep in. more blinking lights and display screens than a frame maintenance bay. and your boss was there. sharp suit, curly hair, looked like she was in a hurry.

"good news, everything went well," she said. "and volunteering saved me a bit of time, so thanks for that. here."

you were still incredibly out of it, but you accepted the vase of mixed flowers. the smell almost put you under again. you'd never smelled anything like this. or maybe you had, but you were suddenly smelling a hundred things on top of it. an incredibly rich roiling blend of scent. grassy, floral, faintly acrid, notes of emergency sealant, hangar moonshine, the smell of the taste of the filler in shipping containers…

"bwuh?" you managed. she'd put something up your damn nose. had to be.

"olfactory and recall augment. it'll adapt with you, to some extent, but it's also pre-biased with hundreds of thousands of Terran and CEZ biochemical presets. one of these flowers doesn't belong. show me."

you'd taken a big sniff, which was stupid and hurt. then you took a few smaller, more careful sniffs. one of the yellow-orange ones was off. not bad. off. like you'd tasted a dozen red Nebula Chews in a row and the last one was supposed to be purple but the factory fucked up the dye.

you plucked the flower from the vase and showed it to her.

"you're probably right," she said. "one of the marigolds is infected with a hybrid xenopathogen. doesn't have a name. something that evolved on one of the CEZ DNA worlds after Terran life was introduced, and that doesn't really get along with our soil bacteria — the CEZ nearly lost that planet. its metabolism produces a volatile compound that'd be useful for detection, except that i can't smell it, nobody else on staff can smell it, and more importantly, our current generation of mass-production biochips can't either. but now you can."

she turned to go, heels clicking on the floor. then she looked back over her shoulder.

"you look a little spooked. you shouldn't be. it's a knockout, can't reproduce without an excess of a dextral amino acid that nothing outside of our labs makes," she said. "keep the flowers."

---

"stop rubbing your fucking nose, newbie," Emerald said from across your restaurant table.

"i have a name," you groused, putting your hands back in your lap, where you could fidget with the edge of the expensive-looking tablecloth instead of decking the barely field-competent backup posing as your dinner date.

"i don't care. people are looking. or they might. so quit it. you find anything yet?"

"not yet." you'd noticed a few unusual scents on the air, but so far they'd all been strictly known compounds and the most noticeable one at this table wasn't exactly mission-related.

the waiter turned up, finally, and presented the next course. you lifted a spoon to your lips. rice. you'd had that plenty of times. several different mushrooms. a rare treat, but just because you couldn't really afford them. and an accent of… cassia, cheap shampoo, hot paint? your new nose wasn't sure what to make of it. but you'd smelled it before.

there was a sample terrarium running Celeq Corporation's proprietary synthetic biology in one of the library labs. Celeq, the Director had said, like many synthetic biologies, was fine. perfectly stable. if your planet didn't have seasons. or weather. or humans. worked fine on her parents' homeworld, because they could never leave the domes.

"i think we're going to want to talk to the chef," you said.

"damn. can i at least finish dinner first?"

"probably. but you can have my risotto. smells like Celeq."

she shrugged and reached over the table to pull your plate over to her side. "not toxic, then, just unsustainably high maintenance. and better you than me with that augment. i already have my nose the way i like it."

"thanks for volunteering me, by the way. all these wonderful things i can never unsmell." you paused, smirked. "you ever read the specs? you know the breadth of the Terran biochem recall?"

"do you have a point."

"yeah. you can relax with the bitch act. i can smell how hot you are for me."

she dropped the fork.

"as if!"

you scratched your nose again. "doesn't lie."

"fuck you," she said. "i'm not hungry any more. let's do this." she stood up and pulled a badge from her slacks, screamed at the waiter: "Directorate of Planetary Ecology! take me to your chef!"

you pulled your pistol. wasn't a frame, but the enzyme pellets were a lot safer inside a hab. "god. you really are out of practice. gun first, threats second…" □

[neptunes-sol-angel]

*pchit pchit* Describing your spirituality as a perfume and the essence behind it. Feel free to look up metaphysical meaning behind each note to see additional messages that may resonate with you.

Paid Readings | Botanica | Tip Jar

Pile One

Top Notes:

Tangerine, Magnolia, Peppermint, Fennel

Middle Notes:

Lemon, Rosemary, Arborvitae

Bottom Notes:

Oregano, Bergamot, Sweet Marjoram

Your perfume embodies a warm summer day at a villa in Italy. You’ll feel right at home when your olfactory nerves take in every single accord. Your fragrance is soft, smooth, bubbly, with a hint of what a clean roaring 20s hotel suite would be like with incense smoking in the background. Boujee and boozy. Your spirituality is based on finding awakenings in nothingness. Losses could be something that you experience a lot. Home could be something that is not really guaranteed for you. It could be by choice meaning you find purpose in nomadic living or you’re constantly moving around against your will because of a destructive crisis. This could have made it hard for you to attach or give sentimental value to holidays, milestones, and relationships that are meant to be positive and celebratory. You don’t have to dress in garments or be deep into religion or philosophical teachings and rituals. You’re spiritual in a way that resonates with taoism. No matter how many endings that occur in your life, you are not meant to stay there. Even if you lose your will to keep going, you embody the concurrent flow of circulation. Finding life after death and being open to miracles when you’re at rock bottom. I feel like people could see you as “walking karma”. I feel like there are a lot of people in the pile who do not believe in the concept of karma because you believe in handling retribution yourself. You could be into defense and malefic magic, but you could also have a lot of strength and endurance to push for things to happen in your life. When it comes to pointing out someone’s spiritual gifts, it’s usually the magic that happens naturally. So while people may think you are “walking karma” or have this fear that you’re getting revenge on them, I’m getting that your gifts are more like a blockbuster and a road opener spell.

Pile Two

Top Notes:

Pink Pepper, Siberian Fir, Lotus Flower

Middle Notes:

Black Spruce, Morello Cherry, Ginger

Bottom Notes:

Honeysuckle, Frankincense, Neroli, Nubian Musk

Your perfume is seductive, mysterious, feminine, and mature yet playful. The scent is dark, floral, and energizing with the way it will last all over your body the entire day, even if you shower. Your spirituality thrives in beauty, love, magnetism, and divine enlightenment. You could resonate with the siren archetype with how entrancing you are with your desires and self worship. I keep seeing the majestic creature obsessively grooming theirself in a mirror, so people could think that you’re vain or self-absorbed. But what they don’t understand is that spiritually, you embody what it means to treat your body like a temple, and how your inner world can shift your outer world. You’re extremely powerful with glamour magic, affirmations, and creating subliminals. Like a siren’s voice, you’re just commanding with the words that you speak which can do wonders for you but can also make you have to be very careful with the things that you say and your attention on certain things that may look or seem like a good idea but they really aren’t. I get that in order to master your spirituality, you must place boundaries with what you’re drawn to utilizing moderation and also being specific with what you want. In this collective, I feel that there are a lot of young souls who are eager to learn and experience. Many of you are actually on track to reaching this level of mastery. This pile reminds me of the movie “The Craft” and the phrase “curiosity that killed the cat”. You guys could indulge in divination, spells, or non-occultic shortcuts in life that may have led to getting you in unnecessary trouble or problems that ended up combusting. The more that you experience what you think you may want, the closer that you reach to finding peace with something that may look the complete opposite.

Pile Three

Top Notes:

Citronella, Lavender, Vasaka, Spearmint

Middle Notes:

Helichrysum, Frankincense, Tonka Bean, Celery Seed

Bottom Notes:

Sweet Pea, Matcha, Grapefruit, Petitgrain

Your perfume has a different take on what gourmand can be. It’s probably the most natural sugary scent that you’ll ever find. When the scent hits your nose, it’ll feel like you’re waking up one sunny morning to a matcha lemonade and a lavender grapefruit puff pastry. Discovering your spirituality could or still be very confusing for you. The collective’s energy in this pile feels lost, opaque, and saturn-like because I think that the clarity that’s being sought after most likely will not be received until your 40s or 50s. I’m seeing a lot of switching religions, jumping to the next path to consciousness by dabbling into concepts that you may not fully understand, or being led astray by new-age theories. I’m also seeing a lot of spiraling when things do not work out that may cause you to blame these practices when transitioning onto the next thing. I’m getting that people in the pile could have faced a lot of judgement in these spaces at an early age. Never really feeling like you belong or that you’re welcomed by others which could play a part in why spirituality could be so confusing for you and it not being something that you can trust. You may have even decided to become atheist or agnostic and that is okay. The delivery may not have been right in feeling let down in your spirituality, but the truth is, it is the human thing to crash out when you show your devotion, you do the work consistently, and had the bravery to be positive about it and then next thing you know, things are tumbling down and you don’t know what the hell is going on or if you did something wrong. For some of you, the problem lies in trying to find acceptance from others in these spaces. You’re making material things such as people or social constructs and standards for your god. You find a god in something that’s way bigger and personal than what the next person’s input is. Whether it’s digging deep into your roots to resume your ancestor’s indigenous practices, carving out your own space in christianity to fortify your faith in peace, or even finding the god within yourself, your spirituality will become a lot more clearer to you when you make it less about others and have more acceptance and validation for yourself.

Pile Four

Top Notes:

Ylang Ylang, Rain accord, Ginseng

Middle Notes:

Jasmine, Coriander, Vetiver

Bottom Notes:

Tonga Vanilla Bean, Passionflower, Spikenard

Your perfume could be well-rounded, where you can vividly smell every note all throughout the sillage of when you first sprayed it. The scent has a bold blend of aromas that are both masculine and feminine. It’s earthy, sweet, strong, the perfect scent to acquire if you want to make an opulent first impression. Like this perfume, your spirituality represents the power and respect behind energy exchange. You see life in all things, and believe that everything is energy much like how science demonstrates that everything is derived out of atoms and chemicals. You resonate with herbology, following the moon and stars, and letting the universe speak to you through plants, animals, and the weather. You could be into tea leaf readings, palmistry, or water and cloud scrying. You believe in superstitions that were taught to you by your elders or the people of your culture(s). You could be against anything along with seeing things as something to be taken or owned. Money comes to you easily and it doesn’t have to be in surplus. I just see you being taken care of because of the spirits that you communicate with and look after, even if you’re not directly into mediumship, it seems like you unconsciously connect with your ancestors and other forms of spirits, especially if you have this habit of talking to yourself. I don’t want to scare you, but whoever you are talking to, they are definitely listening to you and responding back to you in many different ways lol. Your spirituality is also brought to life when musical instruments are being played, when you’re cooking for others, and when you’re helping others who have less mobility.

[eminemily05]

Ratchet x AFAB Reader—Periods—

Currently, I’m battling some cramps of hell of my own. And I wanted to write a story to make myself feel better. Now that I have, I’m sharing it with you all.

I hope this at least helps some of you feel better. Periods are never fun, but always make sure you take good care of yourselves. Treat yourself to sweets, take a nice warm bath, and just..be kind to yourself.

It may suck, but your body is actively doing what it does best for your health. Even if that means cramps every month…or few months, depending on your situation..

Now, please enjoy this little Drabble I’ve made. And I hope it brings some warmth to your hearts (and cramps, 🙏)

———————————————————————————

“Ratch…”

Your soft call tore the medic away from his current focus at the main console. Voice wavering and weak…was that hurt he sensed..?

Looking over, he glanced at your small form. Curled up atop the tatted yellow couch, head perked slightly. Your expression was scrunched in one of discomfort and pain. Olfactory sensors flared and flagged a key chemical scent wafting over.

Blood.

Immediately, he abandoned his current project. Taking a few hurried steps to stand behind the raised platform, glancing down at you with worried, appraising optics. You looked back up at him, a pained whine leaving your throat.

You squirmed around, hands pressing down against your abdomen to try and quell the spikes of discomfort. “I-It hurts…”

Scanning you, he gave a soft sigh. Concern flashed through his optics, antenna dropping just slightly. He knew this was a rough time for you.

You had explained to him what it was the first time this had happened. Naturally, it was going to occur in their presence, within the months you’d stay there. So, you figured if anyone needed to understand your predicament with periods, it was Ratchet.

At first, he’d been horrified. Not at you. Gods never. But at the fact that this was so normal. The idea of a Cybertronian bleeding Energon every couple times of a Quartex nearly sent him into shock. Not to mention how painful you had described it to be.

I mean, on par with a human heart attack? For something so small, your species seemed so durable.

But, as the team’s hybrid medic for human and machine, he took it upon himself to learn. Through the web, and you. He learned what he could, and asked for help when he needed more explanations. Now, he felt well equipped.

Ratchet gently set a digit against your lower belly, taking a measure of any inflammation or otherwise unseen pain. He could just hear how painful the cramps sounded.

“Did you take any anti-inflammatory medication? Pain relievers or Acetaminophen?” He glanced at your face as you nodded. Hmm…clearly it hadn’t kicked in yet..

You gripped onto the digit against your lower stomach desperately. “I-I took them some few minutes ago…but I forgot my heating pad at home…” Looking up at his optics, you gave an expression of discomfort.

His spark flared at the sight, audials flicking down as he sighed.

“Of course…” Glancing back at the console, he weighed his options.

He still had piles of work to do. Formulas to refine, tools to repair, files to decode. Then, he looked at you. His human. His pained human, and he didn’t need any other convincing.

Gently, he lifted you in both servos. Whining slightly at the sudden movement as a flare of cramps spiked in your belly. He pulled you against his chassis, engine rumbling gently just under the surface.

“Relax, Sweetspark…I have you..” he mumbled softly, finials clicking up just a notch as you nodded and curled your body against his frame.

Carefully, he made his way to his habsuite. Cautious, as not to rile more cramps in your poor body. His engine gave a worried whine as he glanced at you, body desperately seeking warmth. He crooned at the sigh, optical ridges drawn in concern. “I know…I know..”

Curse your biology for making you suffer like this. He couldn’t even imagine the pain you were dealing with. And it hurt that he couldn’t do much to relieve it.

As he punched the code in for his habsuite, he pressed you to his warm chassis and entered. Metal thumb rubbing soothingly against your hair.

He carried himself over to his berth, settling into the malleable metal that accommodated his back kibble. Gently, he settled you on his chassis. Watching as you squirmed around for a comfortable position.

Eventually, you rested flat on your tummy. Stomach pressed against the warmth radiating from his chassis as soft whines left you. The pain continued to spike as you sought out the heat.

“Ratchet..” You cried desperately, soft hands gripping onto any purchase of his frame you could find. “I-It hurts.!”

His spark flared, plating hissing at your pain. He couldn’t help but feel helpless, useless. Watching his little partner as they wriggled and cried, unable to really do anything.

Curse the gods for bringing this upon them. If he could smite this pain-

Without even thinking, his engine rumbled and revved loudly. The vibration, combined with the rising heat of his cylinders firing, seemed to quell you somewhat. He watched as your little frame untensed a hair, and he needed no more time.

Gently, he set his engine to a low rumble. Idling it quietly and relaxing as the vibrations and warmth slowly settled into your form. Your brow unclenched, a soft sigh of relief escaping as you glanced at him.

He sighed, resting a large servo over your form. The metal acting as the perfect insulation—and bonus weighted blanket— for your body. Steadily, you relaxed and practically melted against his plating.

Yet, he couldn’t help but still feel bad. “I’m sorry…I wish there was more I could do to relieve you of this..” he grumbled, tone full of annoyance but optics full of silent shame. Shame he couldn’t help his own mate.

A gentle kiss against his chassis soothened his thoughts. You looked up at him, eyes lidded with a sense of exhaustion.

Had they taken that much out of you? Curses!

“This is perfect, Ratch.” Your soft smiled cut through the berating thoughts of his spark and pride. “Best heating pad I’ll ever need.”

He chuckled softly as he watched you settle in against the plating. Eyes closing softly as the warmth pulled you closer to sleep.

“Besides…” you mumbled, a happy smile on your face. “Having my big, metal partner to help me makes it feel just a little bit better. Don’t beat yourself up.”

The last part was a bit muffled, as your cheek pressed against his chassis and you were out like a light. Humming, he ran a thumb over your hair. A soft smile graced his faceplate as he watched you subconsciously lean into it. Shutting his own optics in the process for recharge.

“Sleep well, sweetspark…I’ll be here when you awaken..”

[neolxzr]

hey you get it its an alien stage alien au—wait a minute... this is just invader zim !!!

some more random info abt this au under the read more ^_^ open at your own risk its a lot of yapping

till makes it his mission to expose the aliens (mostly ivan. he has personal beef with him) to the rest of humanity, but he's the boy who cried wolf. no one believes him because he's been talking about aliens and bigfoot and mothman and whatever nonstop all his life.

till loves the supernatural but also fears it. it consumes most of his waking thoughts. he doesn't like how quickly the aliens grow close to mizi out of a desire to protect her from the (presumed) threat. he's kinda like if dib invader zim was some gay art kid instead of like a supergenius

this threatening feeling comes from till assuming that ivan and sua are on earth for some kind of conquest and or abduction reasons. are they actually? who knows...

mizi is a bit of a hopeless romantic and finding out that sua was an alien only served to make her fall for her more. she could think of nothing more romantic than this scenario, actually. even till screaming danger at her cannot deter her from her love

ivan fights with till and riles him up because he finds how expressive he is utterly fascinating. he says its to "learn more about humans" but mostly he just wants till's attention. he himself doesn't know why he wants this attention, though.

sua and ivan experience a range of emotions in a similar way to humans, yet their species is discouraged from acting emotionally and isnt taught about what any of their feelings mean. all they know, at the start, is that these humans draw some kind of strange feelings out of them that they've never felt before.

(it sticks with the overall theming of alnst being about trying to understand exactly what love means.)

ivan and sua's earpieces are multipurpose tools. they're connected directly to the brain and can't be taken off. they can be used to generate their disguises (its a hologram type of thing), works as a translator so they can communicate with other alien species, etc.

what looks kind of like a nose on the aliens' faces is not a nose. their antennas are used as their olfactory system (they are also quite sensitive)

till is no longer crushing on mizi at this point in his life. sometime during middle school mizi came out to him as a lesbian and so he told her he liked her and it was a whole thing and they both cried. it ended up serving to strengthen their friendship. its been about 4 years-ish since then and theyre still inseparable

till works some kind of shitty service job part time, at which he met hyuna. she's like his cool older college friend and sort of older sister. he plays with her band sometimes

this takes place in who the fuck knows where midwest united states, and the humans are korean-american. till is first generation and usually speaks korean with his mom at home

it takes a while for till to first get a glimpse of ivan and sua's undisguised forms, though when he finally does something about them seems oddly familiar to him.

mizi sees sua's undisguised form long before till does. she does not tell him this

luka is an alien too. wonder what he's up to...

ok thats all love you bye ^_^

[perpetual-stories]

Eight Strategies for Improving Dialogue in Your Writing

Well, hi! Oh my… wow! It’s been a long time since I’ve posted! I’ve been very busy and I am genuinely sorry to all my followers, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about this account, but here is one final post for the year!

Hopefully next year I become consistent with it again!

Let’s begin!

One of the best ways to help a reader connect with your writing is by crafting excellent dialogue. Use these tips to learn how to write dialogue that showcases character development, defines your characters’ voices, and hooks readers.

Why Use Dialogue?

Good dialogue performs all sorts of functions in fiction writing. It defines your characters’ voices, establishes their speech patterns, exposes the inner emotions, and showcases their character development. Beyond mere characterization, effective dialogue can also establish the setting and time period of your story and reveal information in a way that doesn’t feel overly expository.

Authors use lines of dialogue to reveal a character’s personality and express their point of view. For instance, an archetypal football coach might speak in short, terse sentences peppered with exclamation points and quotations from famous war generals. By contrast, a nebbish lover with a broken heart might drone on endlessly to his therapist or best friend, speaking in run-on sentences that circle around his true motivations. When an author can reveal character traits through dialogue, it cuts down on exposition and makes a story flow briskly.

Eight Writing Tips for Improving Dialogue

The first time you write dialogue, you may find it quite difficult to replicate the patterns of normal speech. This can be compounded by the concurrent challenges of finding your own voice and telling a great story overall. Even bestselling authors can get stuck on how a particular character says a particular line of dialogue. With practice and hard work, however, lackluster dialogue can be elevated to great dialogue.

Here are some strategies for improving the dialogue in your own work:

Mimic the voices of people in your own life. Perhaps you’ve created a physician character with the same vocal inflections as your mother. Perhaps your hero soldier talks just like your old volleyball coach. If you want to ensure that your dialogue sounds the way real people speak, there’s no better resource than the real life people in your everyday world.

Mix dialogue with narration. Long runs of dialogue can dislodge a reader from the action of a scene. As your characters talk, interpolate some descriptions of their physical postures or other activity taking place in the room. This mimics the real-world experience of listening to someone speaking while simultaneously taking in visual and olfactory stimuli.

Give your main character a secret. Sometimes a line of dialogue is most notable for what it withholds. Even if your audience doesn’t realize it, you can build dynamic three-dimensionality by having your character withhold a key bit of information from their speech. For instance, you may draft a scene in which a museum curator speaks to an artist about how she wants her work displayed—but what the curator isn’t saying out loud is that she’s in love with the artist. You can use that secret to embed layers of tension into the character’s spoken phrases.

Use a layperson character to clarify technical language. When you need dialogue to convey technical information in approachable terms, split the conversation between two people. Have one character be an expert and one character be uninformed. The expert character can speak at a technical level, and the uninformed one can stop them, asking questions for clarification. Your readers will appreciate it.

Use authentic shorthand. Does your character call a gun a “piece” or a “Glock”? Whatever it is, be authentic and consistent in how your characters speak. If they all sound the same, your dialogue needs another pass.

Look to great examples of dialogue for inspiration. If you're looking for a dialogue example in the realm of novels or short stories, consider reading the great books written by Mark Twain, Judy Blume, or Toni Morrison. Within the world of screenwriting, Aaron Sorkin is renowned for his use of dialogue.

Ensure that you’re punctuating your dialogue properly. Remember that question marks and exclamation points go inside quotation marks. Enclose dialogue in double quotation marks and use single quotation marks when a character quotes another character within their dialogue. Knowing how to punctuate dialogue properly can ensure that your reader stays immersed in the story.

Use dialogue tags that are evocative. Repeating the word “said” over and over can make for dull writing and miss out on opportunities for added expressiveness. Consider replacing the word “said” with a more descriptive verb.