#How'd I do that

[guhhhhhhhhhhh]

So I decided last minute to make a dress last night for a party I'm going to today. Because I had the fabric and I had the dress I was copying and I just went "fuck it" and proceeded to spend 5 hours just grinding it out. And like. I've only made like three pieces of clothing before. And all those had a pattern. Last night I just looked at a dress and said "yeah I can do that" and worked some kind of magic to turn a 70s tablecloth into a pretty sundress. With no instruction! I'm in awe of my ability to just....do that. I keep looking at the dress incredulously like........how did that happen?? 12 hours ago you were a tablecloth???? This has to be how parents look at their children.

[kakusu-shipping]

More B-Sides for @probably-some-goat’s Self-Insert Fanfic The Dragon and The Fox

This one got way longer than the last one, but I still kept it three stories to a chapter, so everyone’s just gonna have to deal with it. Also I gave each one a title.

In which we are experiencing the mundane

-Sharp cold, sharp stare, sharp blade-

Genji’s deadly stare stabbed across the market alley the four man Shambali crew had found themselves in, landing directly on Emile who was committing the heinous crime of standing within proximity to the ninja’s little brother, while Genji himself was stuck across the way from them besides his Master, Zenyatta, who was currently complimenting the craftsmanship of a quilt.

Emile had grown rather use to Genji’s protective stare at this point, and despite the Ninja’s seemingly endless collection of sharp objects on his person at all times, the human couldn’t help himself from wanting to see how far he could push it.

So here they stood, in their split teams of two, looking over bedding and blankets and pillows for Zayne, who had spent nearly an entire month now in what use to lay claim as Emile’s bed and room.

The plan was simple, locate a comfortable blanket and pillow set for Zayne that can still fit into Emile’s bedroom, as it is the only room in Master Mondatta’s house with proper heating (a fireplace).

Emile rocked on his heels to glance over at the beautifully knit fabrics Zayne was currently touching with the tender stroke of someone who cared more about a blanket’s texture than it’s warmth. He glanced again cross the way at Genji, who had shuffled only slightly down the road to keep close to Zenyatta, who was known to wander and get lost in the market if left to his own devices for too long.

A smirk crossed the mechanic’s face as he leaned barely a centimeter closer to the short man beside him. Genji’s shoulder’s tensed and his glare sharpened ten fold. If he could explode Emile with his mind, he would. This only encouraged him.

Emile gave Zayne’s shoulder a little nudge, the slightest brush, just bump enough to get his attention before reaching around him to point at another blanket, saying something just soft enough for Genji not to hear.

Oh how it burned the ninja up. His face was no doubt red under mask and fabrics he cloaked himself in to hide what human he had left. He knew Emile would never do anything bad to his brother, the little man was a monk blatantly and unabashedly in love with Zenyatta. He couldn’t hurt a fly. And yet Genji’s hand rested on a blade he’d put to his hip as he continued to stare.

“My student,” Zenyatta’s voice flinched Genji out of his spiteful concentration, the monk was holding two soft blankets, one white and one brown, “Do you think he would like these? They are rather soft.”

Genji glanced between the two blankets, the white one was covered in a hand dyed pattern of snow foxes, the brown one had one large image of a musk deer on it. Genji shifted how he stood to better face his master, with his left arm hidden from the view of his brother, he tenderly rested his hand on the fabric. It was soft. It reminded him of the blanket they’d shared as children, covered in a childish dinosaur pattern, the perfect amount of warmth for Hanamura winters.

Zenyatta tilted his head slightly as Genji gripped the blanket in his hand, a weak shaking to his grip. Before the monk could press his student, a call came from behind the ninja, the other group approached rather loudly.

“Winner winner!!” Emile shouted, as he and Zayne ran in tandem. Genji quickly hid himself in his robes once more and swiftly turned around. Emile and Zayne ran practically cheek to cheek, wrapped together in a thick futon draped over them, the two’s cheeks and noses red from the cold.

Zayne broke from the warmth of what is meant to be used as a mattress and ran up to Zenyatta, taking hold of the white blanket, “It’s adorable! And so soft. Where’d you find this?”

Zenyatta chuckled and began to show Zayne the stall he was looking at, the two chattering with the stall owner about her adorable patterning.

Emile, meanwhile, was left covered in a heavy futon with a blade to his neck, with Genji folding himself over the mechanic to keep the threat a little secret just between them.

Truth be told, Emile didn’t really think Genji would kill him if it came down to it. He wanted to believe that anyway. So despite the blade to his neck, Emile gave a chuckle and smiled up at Genji.

“Lucky find, huh? This futon wasn’t all that expensive either, and it’ll fold up under my bed pretty easily.”

“I’ll kill you.” Genji’s threat rumbled in his throat, and Emile did what he could to not take it seriously.

“Can we get your brother out of my bed first? I’d like to die comfortably in my sleep, at least.”

“Now now you two, there is a time and place for such brazen affection and the market is not it.” Zenyatta’s teasing voice chimed, followed by a laugh from Zayne. Genji quickly sheathed his blade and whipped around to face his master, glaring down at the monk for daring to insinuate something between himself and the foolish mechanic that would toy with his brother like this.

Emile shouldered past Genji, “Zen it’s cooooooold.” He whined, pressing his red fingers into the monk’s exposed shoulders, sighing at the immediate warmth from Zenyatta’s systems.

“You should wear gloves.” Zenyatta spoke, moving Emile’s hands to his cheeks, “Master Mondatta bought you gloves for this very reason.”

“Zayne’s wearing my gloves.”

“My gloves now.” Zayne wiggled his warm, gloved fingers at Emile teasingly, making the mechanic whine. He complained to Zenyatta about how mean Zayne was taking all his things. Zayne laughed and countered that Emile offered them to him. Zenyatta commented they should both give up their worldly possessions and live as nature originally intended.

“Naked?” Emile questioned.

“Precisely.” Zenyatta answered.

Genji watched his brother and Emile shove into one another as they walked, again wrapped under the futon for warmth, though now with Zenyatta as their walking heater in the center. He listened to his brother laugh, genuinely and joyfully as Zenyatta and Emile doubled down on teasing him. He watched him walk ahead back to the Monastery together with them, cheeks red from cold and from smiling ear to ear the entire time.

Genji watched his brother, despite the past, move into the future with a smile on his face and friends by his side,

and felt a little lonely walking on his own steps behind

-----------------------------------------------------

-Just Tea-

Zayne sat stiffly, legs folded under him in a seiza style, as he’d been raised and taught to do. His hands rested in clenched fists on his knees, which were held tightly together. He stared directly into the hot cup of green tea before him that had been served in a yunomi, no doubt an attempt to bring comfort of his home into the room, though all it did was remind him of a past best forgotten.

“Thankyou for agreeing to have tea with me, Zayne.” Mondatta spoke across the tea table, holding a cup of green tea himself, though unable to drink it.

“Agreeing” probably wasn’t the right word for this arrangement. Mondatta had caught Zayne off guard this morning after he’d finished cooking, just coming into the kitchen to talk to Emile about something, ask a question about something, Zayne doesn’t remember. He wasn’t able to listen well. Until his name was spoken, and Mondatta asked if he had a free moment that afternoon, if he might join Mondatta in his room for some tea.

It was an invite Mondatta meant to give Zayne a choice to, he could say no. But something about it felt more than just a chat over tea. It was a summon by the Master of the household, no more a request than being enlisted into the army. There was no other option. In Zayne’s head, anyway.

So here he sat over a hot cup of tea, shaking in terror for no logical reason across a short table from Mondatta, Master of the Shambali. He felt he might throw up. Maybe that would be enough of an excuse to leave.

Mondatta had clear, peaceful body language. He sat with his legs crossed in a burmese style, clearly not able to get up quickly if he needed to. His hands were visible, resting just above the table holding his tea delicately with his fingers, the palms of his hand resting on open air. He was still, even as he spoke, which normally he would punctuate with tilts of his head, he remained unmoving.

Yet despite all of this Zayne’s brain, bruised and battered by a man now buried six feet at the Shimada family shrine, still registered Master Mondatta as a threat to be on edge near.

Mondatta hummed softly, “I left the door open encase you felt the need to leave during our visit, but it made the room rather drafty. Are you keeping warm? These mountains can be rather brutal.”

“Yes, sir.” Zayne’s response came stiff and automatic, making him sound more robotic than the Omnic he sat across from.

“Good. Have you settled in well? My brethren can be rather excitable about humans, I do hope they didn’t overwhelm you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that shadow of yours, he is doing well, I assume?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mondatta gently placed his tea on the table, and Zayne flinched at the sound, light at it was. He feared he may have done something wrong, responded incorrectly, angered the monk across from him.

“Well then, would you like to join us, Shadow?” Mondatta asked to the open door behind Zayne.

On the other side, against the wall Genji flinched at being caught for the second time now evesdropping on his brother’s and Master Mondatta’s private moments. His face flushed as he sunk to a squat against the wall.

“No thankyou...” He spoke.

Mondatta chuckled at his dry answer, “Ah, perhaps next time, then?”

“Probably not.”

Mondatta continued his light laugh, once again picking up his tea cup, “I see, a shame. Do let me know if you change your mind, little shadow.”

“M-.. Mondatta, sir...” Zayne’s voice croaked, his shoulders seemed a little less tense, and his shaking had calmed ever so slightly. He still refused to look up, but this little moment, hearing someone give Mondatta such a simple answer as ‘no’.. It reminded him this man was not Sojiro, was not an unreasonable tyrant, he was Mondatta, a man who can take a no.

“M-May I- Could- Pl-PLEASE EXCUSE ME.” Zayne finally said, much louder than he expected, leaning forward to bow, his forehead hitting the edge of the table with a loud Thunk.

Mondatta gave a soft chuckle, “Of course,” the monk had more to say, but Zayne got up and took off for the door faster than he was expecting, “Oh- But if you’d do me a favor,” He’d just barely managed to say before Zayne was out the door and around the corner.

The man turned to look at Mondatta for the first time sense he’d entered this room, the beautiful white robes and metal plating of the Omnic were now stained with tea from the monk’s and Zayne’s cups, both of which were tipped over and spilling out over the table.

“Would you mind seeing if Emile is free?”

--------------------------------------------------

-The Mechanic’s Morning-

“And where are you three off to?” Master Mondatta’s voice called at the steps to the main temple as three of his students escaped down the stairs.

Emile, the only human in the Shambali and one of the three escaping evening meditation early, came to an abrupt stop at Mondatta’s voice, and if it wasn’t for his compatriots grabbing him, he certainty would have tumbled down the stairs.

“Just escorting the human to the restroom.” Zenyatta, the smaller of the two Omnic runaways lied quickly, pulling Emile back to a stand, “You know how humans are with their. Fluids.”

“I see. And you both need to go with him?” Mondatta pressed, hands folded behind his back calmly.

“Yes, of course.” The largest of the three spoke. An Omnic of rare craftsmanship, Ramattra could be picked out of the rest of the Shambali crowd rather easily, “You are the one who tells us to never travel alone, Master.”

Mondatta gave a hum, in hindsight it was clear he wasn’t buying these excuses, but in a moment of compassionate weakness for his younger brothers, he allowed the three to escape without much more a fight.

The human, a little man with white hair and red eyes, no older than 15, darted down the temple stairs, his fellow runaways in toe. It may not be apparent by appearances, but the three were all the same, childish age at the time. They sat impatiently in meditation, and laughed running through the monastery streets, all as you’d expect children to do.

Together, free from evening meditation, the three climbed on the roofs of the monk village, watching the sun set over the mountains that surrounded their homes. They laughed and shoved free in a quiet village together, and when Emile tripped they’d laugh at him as they helped him up, and he’d laugh along with them, shoving his snow cold hands against the warmth of their metal systems.

But those days are over now

Emile yawned awake, finally back in his own bed after an entire month of sleeping in his work room. He stretched, and smiled at the framed photo of the Shambali group photo beside his bed, easily finding Ramattra in the crowd of Omnics.

It’s a good thing he stuck out so much, Emile thought to himself as he stood and began to get dressed, pulling on two layers of robes he’d been given from Mondatta. He glanced under his bed, Zayne’s futon was already neatly folded underneath, his blanket rolled into a nest for his invisible fox friend.

“Please excuse me.” Emile spoke, though he didn’t know if the fox was there at present, and scooped the empty candy rappers out from under the bed, throwing them into the slowly dying fire. He’d be sure to throw some wood in when he got back.

He met Zayne in the kitchen, eating a quick breakfast of toast with butter, despite the ninja’s offer to make him something more. 

“I’ll be late to morning meditation. Are you coming?”

“Pass.” Zayne said, poking at his food.

“Good. Then you can start laundry.” Emile hummed as he turned to head out, running face first into Mondatta’s chest.

“Oh- easy there, my student. Are you alright?” Mondatta gently moved Emile back, checking him over quickly.

“Master Mondatta!” Emile beamed, more than use to banging into solid metal face first at this point, “Good morning! How was the sunrise?”

Mondatta chuckled, “Beautiful as ever. Heading to morning meditation?” Emile gave a nod that caused Mondatta to look him over again, “Have you already eaten? And is that all you are wearing? It is rather cold this morning-”

“I’ll eat more after meditation, and I’m plenty warm, we’ll be late, Master.” Emile reminded the worrying monk, pushing past him to rush out the kitchen door.

 Mondatta watched the human go, then turned back into the kitchen, “Ah, Zayne, good morning. I was wondering, would you happen to be free this afternoon?”

Emile ran through the Monastery’s village square, passing already empty homes of monks who were on time to meditation, leaving only one still remaining.

“Good morning, Emile.” Zenyatta greeted, only just now stepping out of his house to get moving to the temple.

“Zenyatta! Good morning!” Emile waved as he approached, an attempt to slow down so he could walk along side Zenyatta was made, and unfortunately resulted instead in the mechanic tripping just a few inches from his destination at Zenyatta’s side.

Emile hit the ground with a hard splat, not an uncommon occurrence, and laid there still for a moment, listening to Zenyatta attempt at holding back his laughter as the monk extended a hand to assist him up.

As he took Zen’s hand, Emile glanced past the monk, “Still no Genji?”

“Still no Zayne?” Zenyatta countered, pulling Emile to his feet and assisting him in brushing the well trotted snow from his robes.

“No winner today, it seems.” Emile stretched, shaking the sting from his hands as he and Zenyatta began walking side by side to the temple.

“A shame. I was looking forward to hearing a song about what a good teacher I am.” Zenyatta cupped his cheek and shook his head to add a little extra drama to his dry comment. Emile laughed and elbowed him.

“Yeah right this bet’s hardly fair, you’ve had Genji way longer than I’ve had Zayne.”

“True. I am also a better teacher, I really do have every advantage.”

“Oh that’s it,” Emile gave Zenyatta a harsh shove knocking him into a snow drift on the side of the path, causing the small Omnic to vanish into the pile. The human laughed in victory, until a robotic arm shot out of the pile, grabbing a hold of the collar of his robe, and yanking him into the dirft with him.

The two laughed, pushing and throwing snow in the pile, missing the crunching of snow approaching them.

“Well, aren’t you two lively?” Asked Master Mondatta, hands folded neatly behind his back as he glanced down at the snow drift. “Come now, or we will all be late.”

Emile and Zenyatta both pulled themselves from the snow, still giggling slightly to themselves as they started down the path once more, taking turns stepping in and out of the footsteps their master left behind as he walked ahead.

Yes, those days are over now. They’re 5 years older, 5 years wiser, one brother less and two brothers more, but they still laugh when they fall and run in the streets and throw snow and fidget during group meditations, because they are still themselves.

And no matter how much time passes, they are still Mondatta’s precious family.

[berrys-art]

Guys I made a masterpiece

Also omg the 3 milestones in a row wha

[evilgoosegoose]

It was a tough battle, and they were losing, they needed help, it didn't matter how powerful, but they desperately needed it, the Justice League called upon every hero and rouge that had the possibility of helping them.

Danny arrived first, making record speeds using a portal made by Wulf to get close, he rushed over to help and assess the situation, after getting the absolute snot beat out of him, he announced "This is a problem for Future Me!" before pulling out his phone and calling someone, leaving the heavily battered Justice League stunned. He had a brief talk with someone named Dan, whoever that was and hung up, turned to them and said in the cockiest voice they had ever heard from someone that had bones sticking out of them "Now we sit back and enjoy the show."

Another portal formed right in front of them, this one was blue rather than green, and out stepped, or rather floated, an absolute monster of a 24-year-old.

[factual-fantasy]

Hey factual, since your watching avatar:

Lol

I have not stopped laughing since you sent this to my inbox XDD Thank you

[u3pxx]

KIM KITSURAGI - “Is that. My kineema.”

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something in him is about to break, *big time*.

EMPATHY - And it’s not going to be pretty, do something!

- DRAMA [Formidable] - Everything is fine!

- “Sure is.”

DRAMA [Formidable: Failure] - Surely he’s aware that he’s not the *only* person in the world who owns a Kineema?

YOU - “Is it really *yours*? I mean, plenty of people have their own Kineemas, right? Like working men, government offices, uh, firefighters I guess, maybe even animal control people? Exactly! A million different people who could’ve driven it into the uh…”

DRAMA - Pause, my liege! Ixnay on the Ineemakay!

YOU - “It could even be our *mysterious* joyrider!”

KIM KITSURAGI - Your frenzied babbling falls deaf to the lieutenant's ears. Instead, he approaches the broken vehicle, sunken in the ice. He moves with a caution and gentleness you haven’t seen him display before.

INLAND EMPIRE - It must be cold and lonely down there, in the icy water. Maybe he could sense its sorrow, calling to him…

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - His hands, which are always stiffly placed behind his back, are trembling.

ENDURANCE - This is the shuffle of a tired, tired man.

HALF LIGHT - He’s going to do something drastic because of you. Oh god, terrible! You’re a terrible liar! You can’t look at this, you just can’t!

VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - It's not *you* who drove his kineema into the sea. You have plenty of faults, but this one is decidedly not yours.

KIM KITSURAGI - He kneels down with his head bowed, casting his face in shadow. He plants a hand on the ice to stabilize himself, squinting to get a better view of the motor carriage. “Detective, it says ‘57’ on it.”

YOU - Sweat drips down your brow, and you feel a terrible headache coming. “Maybe our joyrider has an affinity for that number?”

LOGIC - He's not stupid, he knows that it's not that.

KIM KITSURAGI - “57.”

YOU - “What about 57?”, you brace yourself.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Precinct 57.”

YOU - You wince. “Kim, look-”

KIM KITSURAGI - “When I woke up in the Whirling-in-Rags with no memory of what happened during the days before, I've taken note that something of mine has gone missing.” He grits his teeth. "A very. Important. Something."

He runs his hands over his face, messing his already unkempt hair in the process. Regret creeps up on his features. “God. Fuck. They’re going to fire me over this, they’re not going to hear me out.”

EMPATHY - Desperation settles in the lieutenant's tone. Sadly, you find yourself in agreement, even if you don’t want it to be the truth.

YOU - “People are more valuable than machines, Kim.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Not people like me.” He rasps.

YOU - “…”

KIM KITSURAGI - Before you can say anything more, you fail to notice the lieutenant carefully walking onto the edge of the ice. He looks over the frigid water, a dizzying blue that mirrors and distorts his exhausted face back to him.

YOU - “Kim?”

KIM KITSURAGI - Seconds pass as he looks to be contemplating something. Out of nowhere, he casually takes another step where the ice ends and the sea begins. It happens all too quick for the lieutenant to even voice a call for help— if he even wanted to — his body plunging into the cold water before your eyes.

YOU - “KIM!!!!”

uhhh bonus stuff? sorry i have swap au brainworms pfttt

(im not sure what skills kim has at the moment so rn he only has narration as his inner monologue ok whoops, i would like to keep harry as the guy who thinks in dialogue trees so im still figuring it out pfttt)

also, this was done bc i wanted to expand on these old scribbles of mine, just like an idea, i just think that he'd be having an even worse time wheezes

[the-modern-typewriter]

So you recently did a a little snippet about a villain so terrifying that even the hero was afraid. Would you care to do another one of those are extend the previous one :) I'm kinda obsessed with it. Also your writing gives me life, I love you <3

"You know," the villain said. "Everyone always says that you're the only person in the universe who isn't scared of me."

"Clearly not everyone. I've never said that."

"Mm." The villain's head tilted, a small smile flickering across their lips. They braced their hands on the wall on either side of the hero's shoulders, studying the hero's face. "You hide it well."

"Thanks."

"I would never have guessed if you hadn't told me. It looks good on you, though. That slight glimmer of fear."

The hero scoffed. "You think fear looks good on everybody."

"True. Is that why you hid it?"

"Your ego doesn't need the encouragement."

The villain laughed softly.

The hero raised their hands, taking gentle hold of the villain's wrists before they could move them again. It trapped them both in place.

It would be stupid not to be frightened. They knew what the villain was capable of, what they were; pretending a tiger was a house-cat never did anyone any good.

"Will you feel special if I say I especially like it on you?" the villain asked.

"No."

The villain's smile grew. "Liar."

The hero's stomach fluttered, a pretty knife edge between uncomfortable and intoxicating. They jutted their chin up, holding the villain's scrutiny. "It doesn't change anything, you know."

"Oh, I know," the villain said. "Brave little thing."

"Don't mock me."

"My brave hero. How's that?"

"Still teasing. Rude."

"But not mocking." The villain dipped their head, in lieu of moving their hands, skating their lips along the hero's neck. "And not untrue."

The hero squeezed their eyes shut. "No." Not untrue. "Does it bother you?"

"That you're mine?"

The hero didn't have to look to hear the smile turned fanged, eager. They huffed.

"That I'm scared of you."

"It always bothered me that you weren't. You're terrifying."

The hero's eyes flew open. "Excuse me?"

"Only scary thing in the world, as far as I'm concerned."

The hero studied the villain's face, searching for mockery. They found none. Only terror sharp enough for all of its lines to blur.

The villain caught their lips in a claiming, distracting kiss.

"Tell me more," the villain murmured, a promise of silk sheets in every syllable. "Of how I terrify you."

"You know what else you are? Insufferable."

"Apocalyptic."

"Arrogant."

"Devastating."

"Still mine, so behave, lest I give you something to really be frightened of."

"Promises promises," the villain said. "But also not untrue."

It was the hero's turn to kiss them, and to allow their grip on the villain's wrists to loosen. The villain's hands were immediately trailing along their body, hungry, liable to consume all if they were ever given the opportunity.

Yeah, they were terrifying.

And the most terrifying thing of all was that the hero wouldn't have had them any other way.

It was them, after all.

[astralnymphh]

abby is a morningtime maniac— for those who oversleep! ascribe it to this: fumbling your sleep schedule because you fret over the daylight worries that somehow slipped past dawn and happened to cling to your brain and pester you to disquietude? or you've merely acquired a schedule viable for rot because of that all-consuming addiction to the little handheld screen in your trained palm? so now, half past the time abby has set your alarm to ring at— you're still snoozing? not on her watch. "hey— wake up, loads of stuff to do today, remember?" muggy of her breath and tinted with a slight grog in the pit of her throat, a thumb traces the dip below your lip, nudging your head left to right softly as spring's greenest day— but to no avail, "gosh, we seriously need to get your schedule in check." a scoff dusts her lips, then— she relents, "no choice it is then, got it." and by asudden weightlessness, two stouts of arms weasel beneath the curves of your backside and crane you into her chest, and the swift deprive of gravity feels as though an empty cosmos has grown below you, and like that— you're awake. "what the— abby?" you squint, double take your surroundings, squint some more, the face of your beloved muscle machine blurry. yet after a few blinks, you think you gauge a quarter-moon smile, and some chuckled tongue-in-cheek retort rushing to your ears, "didn't seem like you we're going to wake up anytime soon, what, stayed up all night on me again? hmph, you dork."

DAILY CLICK . READ THIS . PALESTINE MASTERPOST

[versatancore]

lewis : you're actually a lot smarter than you think.

nico : i'm well aware how smart i am, thank you very much.

lewis : that wasn't a compliment.

lewis : you scare me.

[artsekey]

Reminder to get your COVID booster when they're available. I kept putting off my next dose because of my schedule, and I've been out with COVID for eight days now.

Posting the symptoms I had to inform others as COVID is constantly evolving:

Day 1 (3 or 4 days after exposure): started as a feeling of "imminent sickness" in the back of my throat. I otherwise felt 100%.

Day 2: Extremely tired. Congestion. Limited all contact.

Day 3: 101 Fever. Congestion. Extremely tired. Couldn't make it through lecturing my class (remotely). Began medicating with Theraflu (acetaminophen). Tested positive for COVID with the fastest and clearest positive test I've ever seen.

Day 4: Fever between 99 and 101.5. Cancelled all activity. Spent all day in bed. Extreme congestion. Extreme aches & chills at night. This day was absolutely miserable. My friend brought me soup. I cried about it. Continued with Theraflu. Considered going to the ER due to severity of symptoms.

Day 5: Intermittent low-grade fever at 99.8. Congestion continued, coughing and sneezing began.

Day 6: Fever cleared. Coughing & sneezing intensified. Tested again as per CDC recommendations: still a strong positive. Began taking Robitussin (cough syrup only, no acetaminophen).

Day 7: Coughing worsened significantly. Lots of liquids, lots of Robitussin.

Day 8: Today! No fever, no cough, some slight congestion remains. Once again tested positive for COVID-- with a weaker positive this time! I expect I'll be back to normal by day 10, but... trust me, if you're going to get your "booster" through a needle or ten days of this, choose the booster! As a reminder, you can order up to 4 free COVID tests at the end of September through HHS.gov!

[spookberry]

totally normal amity park civilians, nothing freaky fierce to see here

[twokisses]

there has to be something in the best meal syd has ever had aka the meal carmy made for her being a heart-shaped piece of meat right. and even more, there has to be something in the way the version he sent her was not the clean sanitised version his boss preferred but the version with blood (!!) orange seeming to leak out the side of the meat heart... right???? it's them as the seasons have progressed. it's their relationship. there's heart there, there's love, but it's not clean and it's not perfect. but it's still the best thing sydney has ever had. it's a literal heart bleeding out on a plate guys. pulling my hair out

[luvhyn]

been thinking abt hyune's hands a lil too often imagine him mindlessly playing w ur tits sjhdhjskajakaj😵‍💫

ohhhhh. 😵‍💫 nonnie baby your mind... 🧎‍♀️

i whole-heartedly believe that hyune cannot keep his hands to himself. he loves touching you — needs to have his hands on your skin at all times. his favourite spot to place his hands on just happens to be your tits. <3

he just loves to play with your tits, uses "they're warm," as an excuse all the time. it becomes a habit, so much so that he'd mindlessly do it. you'd be curled up in bed, watching a show and he'd slip his cold hands under your shirt and play with your tits, starting with soft touches to full on circling his thumb around your nipple and lightly pinching. at one point, when he could hear your heavy breaths, that's when he'd have his mouth all over your tits — won't stop playing with them until they're all sore & his mouth's all swollen. <3

[ac-art-and-stuff]

He stole a few cards from Kremy ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧

This all started with a google search of memes, then I came across save a horse ride a cowboy, which I learned is a SONG, that I then listened to, and my brain went "heh, Gideon and Kremy vibes- WAIT A DAMN SECOND." and thus...

✨this✨

plus a live reaction from Mr. Lecroux himself... ironically of course

*GATOR PANIK*

[trustymikh]

Maestro gives me strong 'college professor' vibes, so I had to draw this meme with him as soon as I saw it

original under the cut

[ceruleaneclipse]

I don't have a shoulder angel or devil, instead I have Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford