#yes that is a glow in the dark resin bug

[thewandererh]

i uh… coughs

i love him a lot,,, 🥺

yes you can ask me to hug and pat him i shall and will :]💙. these pics were from a bit ago but i do still have him!! and pebbs and sluggie. tr was my first handmade iterator plushie, actually. he was tough to figure out and i struggled a lot bc i used zero base or pattern for the body (wow). helpless little guy. i like to think that after infiltrator ripped his brain out he just woke up as plush. silly dude <33 the most introvert iterator ever

anyways did you guys know february is tr’s birthday month? the 9th!!!!!!! he became real on the 9th!!! the 9th..,,,, just a week away. the 9th! tr’s birthday! in a week! oh wow. it got here so fast. the 9th! just a week awa-

[moon-buggg]

28 for the micro story post ?

28. Something about [them]

Goth!yn time, also yn is a big fan of bugs in this one if you're not into that. This one got away from me a little bit I don't think it can be called micro anymore lol

When you had first been hired on as daycare assistant, Sun was absolutely, positively, one thousand percent certain you were not the right fit for the position.

Your dark, dreary clothes stood out like a sore thumb against the bright, cheery plastic of the daycare. Your eye makeup was heavy and dark, and judging by your taste in jewelry you were far, far too interested in awful awful creepy-crawlies. He'd caught glimpses of you before you changed into your employee uniform, and it was all too easy to slot you into the role of 'villain' when your chosen outfits fit so neatly in with the story book illustrations of evil, scary characters that the heros would defeat without fail.

...admittedly, it soon became rather difficult to keep up that assumption.

There was just... something about you. Something that kept drawing him back to you, try as he might to resist.

Eventually, despite his initial coldness, he found himself warming up to you. Sun is nothing if not stubborn, and he's honestly a little embarrassed nowadays at how long it took him to admit that he may have misjudged you.

But, those days were far behind him.

Today, he sits at a table much too small for him, trying his best to seperate his focus between colouring and chatting with his table of little superstars, and listening in on your conversation a table or two away.

"Did you know your bracelet has a bug in it?" A boy at your table asks. Sun knows exactly which bracelet he's referring to, probably his least favourite of your jewelry. A braided cored with a scorpion encased in resin. For all that you two had gotten closer, he could not for the life of him figure out why you were so fond of the awful thing.

"Yes I did!" you rely, excitement clear in your voice, turning your wrist to let him see better. "I picked it because of the bug, in fact."

"Oh," the boy responds before pausing. "...Why?" He eventually asks. Sun grabs for a blue crayon, nodding along with the particularly complicated story being told at his table.

"I like them," is your simple but honest answer. "Did you know some scorpions glow in the dark?"

Sun sneaks a quick glance back at your table. The boy has grabbed your wrist, and is studying your bracelet very intensely, like if he just looks hard enough, he'll be able to figure out all the secrets the scorpion holds. You've got a smile on your face as you patiently let the boy twist your wrist this way and that to examine the little preserved pest. Sun quickly looks back to his paper, ignoring the way his fans start running just a little bit faster.

Time passes. The boy does not resume his questioning, and Sun is quickly pulled into a lively debate about which is better- fairy princesses or fairy ninja princesses. He's so caught up in the debate, he doesn't notice the little pair of eyes watching him. Soon enough, arts and crafts time is over and it's time for clean up.

Sun goes around the room, collecting all the drawings so they can be sent home. When he reaches your table, however, he becomes very aware of the boy you were talking to glaring up at him with all the seriousness of a heart attack.

"Mr Sun, are you a bug?"

"What!?" Sun's voice is strained. It's a miracle he's able to stop himself from ripping the papers in his surprise. "Whatever makes you say that, friend?" Oh how he wishes he could glare at you right now, as you try desperately to hide your laughter. The other children at the table are not so shy in their amusement.

"You look like one," he declares like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And, and you've got an ummm... exo-skeleton! Like a bug!"

"Noo friend, I'm not a bug, not a bug at all!" He clarifies, swiftly recovering as he gathers the drawings. "I'm a robot!"

The boy considers this. He must not like whatever it is he decides because he looks at Sun a tad angry as he asks his next question. "Why aren't you a bug?"

You seem to have developed an awful cough right at this exact moment. How unfortunate.

"Well, I'm simply far too big!" He eventually lands on. "Bugs are tiny tiny tiny, right friend? I'm simply too tall!"

The boy seems satisfied with this answer, nodding his head and going back to helping put all the crayons back into their box. You stand up, leaving him to cleanup while you prepare the next activity.

You pat him on the arm as you pass, throwing him a grin. "Dont worry Sun, you're my favourite bug," you say, walking away before he has a chance to react.

It's probably for the best. Sun doesn't think he'd ever live it down if you saw how flustered being call a bug, your favourite bug, made him.

[ladywynneoutlander]

Heart’s Abundance

Part 5 -  Joyeux Noël 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6

Jamie sighs in satisfaction, and I know he is savoring the soft warm weight of the granddaughter he feared he’d never see again. Mandy lies in peaceful slumber, her cheeks pinked by the nearby fire, her dark baby-fine curls framing her chubby face. Even after months I can hardly believe she’s here, healthy and safe, her heart problem a thing of the past. She will grow strong and free in the mountains. Thank God.

It has been a blessed day, Christmas Eve, and it’s very late. William, Fanny, and Germain have already retired to their rooms. Jem is asleep on the hearth rug. He will have to be moved later, but for now everyone is too content. The room is warm and glowing. It smells of wood fire, beeswax candles, and the sharp resinous pine of Brianna and Roger’s Christmas tree. I smile at the memory of their bringing it in.  Jamie had watched curiously, but he hadn’t protested. I suppose he’s used to our strange ways, and after all, there is no harm in it.  Jamie had spent an unusual amount of the day indoors, making various excuses. I think he enjoyed watching Brianna and I stringing popcorn, the children making ornaments.  

Now Roger is sitting with Brianna’s head leaning against his shoulder and his hand on her knee. They are speaking quietly together, the soft language of a married couple who are as comfortable with one another as with themselves. When they returned to the Ridge Roger said the future is no longer safe for them. I pray that they may be safe here, remote enough to be spared the worst horrors of war.  

I move to Jamie‘s side and smile softly at Mandy, bending to kiss the little girl’s black curls. Then I raise my head and find Jamie’s lips, giving him a gentle kiss as well.

“Sit wi’ me, Sassenach.” He draws me down with his left hand, still cradling Mandy in his right.

I settle next to him and sigh contentedly, looking at Brianna and Roger. “Bree always loved Christmas.”

“Aye?” he says, interested. “And what did she like best then?”

“The lights,” I answer without hesitation. “In our time we have small lights on strings. They glow without flames. Remember I told you about electricity?”

He nods, frowning slightly at the memory of the wondrous, dangerous energy I had described.

“These lights work on electricity,” I go on. “They shine like the tree is covered in lightning bugs of every color. Brianna was enchanted as a girl. She wanted them everywhere; strung around the windows and over the mantel. Then she would sleep in the parlor by the tree.”

He glances at our own tree. Roger had fashioned a star for the top out of twigs. It’s a small merry thing, but nothing sparkles from the fresh springy boughs. “Do ye think she misses it Sassenach?”

I look from him to Brianna. My daughter reaches up and smooths a dark strand of Roger’s hair from his face. They are absorbed in one another. “No,” I say softly. “Her loves are here.”

As if called by my gaze Brianna rises and comes over, bending to gather Mandy in her arms. “We’d better put the kids to bed. Santa might be here anytime.” Though not the norm in this time, four small stockings hang by the fire, another oddity Jamie absorbed today.

“Aye,” Roger says, coming up behind Brianna with Jem in his arms. “Off to bed with the weans.”

Brianna kisses our cheeks, bending awkwardly over Mandy to reach us. “Merry Christmas Da, Mama.”

“Happy Christmas darling,” I return as she follows Roger upstairs.

                                                          -o0OOO0o-

The thump of little feet on the stairs shakes the whole house and I groan into my pillow. In turn Jamie chuckles, rolling over to throw his arm across my back. “Happy Christmas, Sassenach.” I groan again but crack open my eyes. The sunlight is thin through cracks of the shutters. It’s still quite early. I blink and close my eyes again.

Jamie peeks over my shoulder. “Now, none ‘o that.”  

He kisses the back of my neck and gently rolls me over. He is smiling sweetly down at me with his hair in morning disarray about his head, and I can’t help but smile back. “Happy Christmas to you too.”

He leans down and kisses me, and I feel the soft stubble of his unshaven cheek. Then he pulls back and grins. “Let’s go see what Santa’s brought, aye?”

He fairly bounces out of bed and I laugh, rising more slowly. “You know he only visits children?”

Jamie is enthusiastically pulling on his stockings. He peers up through strands of russet and copper, “Aye, I know! But I want to see how Brianna does Christmas. I dinna want to miss anything.”

I yawn once more, and smiling, throw a shawl around my shoulders, “Me either. Off we go then.”

                                                            -o0OOO0o-

The children enjoy their stockings immensely. They are filled with peppermint candy, a top, and clay marbles. Jamie watches them quietly, a smile on his face.  

In the afternoon, it’s time for presents. As I work on the enthusiastic knots Jem added to his gift, my attention is drawn by Fanny. She shyly rises from her stool and approaches William. He glances up with a smile. “Hullo Fanny. Happy Christmas.”

“Hello,” she smiles tentatively back, “I–  I made you a present.”

“Well, I thank you,” He pats the spot next to him. “Sit here by me.”

She does so and hands him a folded square. He unfolds it to reveal an embroidered handkerchief, a corner cleverly decorated with swimming fish and golden rings, a nod to his seal.

“Why, it’s beautiful,” he says sincerely, and Fanny flushes with pleasure. “I have something for you as well.” William carefully refolds the handkerchief then hands her a small parcel, wrapped in a scrap of muslin I’d given him for the purpose, and tied with twine.

Fanny takes the gift, eyes shining. “Th– thank you.” She pulls on the string and reveals a fragrant wooden box, polished but unvarnished, the top carved with the letters FP and a tiny flower in each corner. The lid is perfectly made to snugly fit the bottom. The entire room is quiet, now as riveted by the scene as I am.

“Isth beautiful,” Fanny breathes, forgetting to enunciate in her happiness.

“Open it.”

She does so, and her eyes fill with tears. “Is this?” She swallows. “Was this Jane’s?” Fanny reaches into the box and delicately withdraws a lock of hair, secured with a tiny ribbon tied in a bow. She sets the box aside, and strokes the soft brown strands gently.

“Yes, I took it when…when I last saw her. I thought you might like to have it.” William answers softly.

Fanny closes her hand over the bundle, and her eyes as well. “Thank you, William.”

He reaches out and puts a hand on her arm. Fanny opens her eyes and I see a light spring into them, and a tenderness, even in the midst of her grief. I remember everything she has seen, and realize that in some ways, Fanny is mature beyond her years. I reluctantly prepare to intervene. It’s obvious, at least to me, how the girl misconstrued the gift and the gesture. Just as I begin to rise William says, “Frances, you must know how dear Jane was to me, even in the short time I knew her. You are dear to me as well.” He smiles. “Why, I think of you as a little sister.”

Fanny jerks a little at that and pulls her arm from under William’s hand. She takes a deep, ragged breath. “A sister? That’s how you see me?”

William blinks, unsure what to make of her reaction. “Well, yes. I hope that is all right?” He gives her a concerned look. “I did not mean to offer offense.”

Fanny stands abruptly, replacing the lock of hair and closing the box carefully. “Of course, I thank you again for the gift and … and for your kind regard.” She backs up a step, turns, and flees upstairs, moving with speed but not running. Poor girl.

William looks from face to face helplessly. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No dear,” I sigh and rise. “Don’t worry. I’ll see to her.”

                                                         -o0OOO0o-

Fanny is a brave, practical girl, and she is back with us shortly. I spoke with her upstairs, and I know I will probably need to again, but for now she is all right.  

The rest of the day passes most pleasantly. The snow comes down in soft white flakes outside the window and the fire crackles happily. We sing carols and enjoy our gifts, playing chess and tic-tac-toe and marbles.  

In the evening Brianna recites A Christmas Carol, with the various ghosts enacted by the children (to the detriment of the linens). I listen with Jamie’s arm around me, laughing occasionally, and feeling blessed.  We are sitting half in the shadows, and I have a quilt pulled over my lap against the chill. I feel Jamie shift and there is the crinkle of paper in my lap. I look down to see one last gift. “For you, Sassenach.”

I look up at him in surprise, smiling, “Whenever did you have the time?”

“Oh, I may have had this put away for some little time. I wanted to give it to ye at the right moment, aye?”

I look at the gift again, curiosity peaked. I heft it in my hand. “Well, it isn’t a new kettle.”

He smiles but doesn’t say anything as I pull back waxed paper, then to my surprise, dark green velvet. Nestled inside is a set of stunning tortoiseshell hair ornaments. Each is adorned with a dragonfly, made of gold, the eyes glimmering rounds of amber. I am awestruck. “Jamie. They’re gorgeous. Simply lovely. But, they’re so expensive…”

He stops me with a gentle kiss. “Dinna fash. I managed is all.” He strokes one with a large finger and looks up at me shyly. “I saw them and knew they were meant for ye. They mind me of Hugh Munroe’s wedding gift, and the amber does look just like your eyes.”

Said eyes were blinking back tears at the moment. “They’re beautiful. Truly.”

“Ye’re beautiful, Claire. Ye deserve them, and so much more.” He leans down for a true kiss then, tilting my chin up to meet him, his mouth soft and warm. When we part he stays close to me, his eyes tender and guileless.  

I lay my hand against his cheek. “We’re not Hugh’s dragonfly any longer, Jamie. We’re not trapped, not by time nor circumstance. We’re flying quickly, so quickly now.”

“Aye.” He touches my cheek in return, outlining my bones with a calloused finger, and smiles gently, “But we’re doing it together, however long or brief the journey. This time, there’s the two of us.” He closes the inch between us once more, kissing me. Then he twists a strand of my hair up and back. I can see the various colors from the corner of my eye, the light brown, gray, and blonde. Jamie secures it with a dragonfly and does the same on the other side.

“Merry Christmas, bonny lass.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”