#or a jar full of wasps

[aurumorre]

Does anyone else ever have to like

Dial it way back on the PMD brainrot whenever they discuss the series with a non-fan lol

[katieaki]

My ✨ post-apocalyptic Lesbian Cowgirl Mailman choose-your-own adventure✨ has just updated! Read it here for free on my Patreon and vote in the poll! Here is a guide to get you started, the summaries of each part of the story thus far, the complete collected text, and FAQ, all in one place. They have everything you need to know about Lou, her requited-but-complicated love, the religious assassin who just beat the tar out of her, the worst person she's ever met, and the ill-advised journey she is on! There is also a discord where Pony Express readers from all across god's green internet can gather, here!

✨Read the update for free on my patreon & vote on what happens next! ✨Excerpt below the cut.

Small, Miserable Woman Reminisces on Being a Small, Miserable Girl

Once, before she’d come to understand the full impenetrability of her mother’s depression, Lou had thought that she would coax her mother into giving her care by pretending to disappear. Early in the morning, she had tied a jar of water and a peach into a furoshiki, stuffed a roll of newspaper into her father’s hat so it wouldn’t fall over her eyes when she wore it, and walked out into the fields beyond their pasture. She had sat on an overturned pail in the dappled shade of a serviceberry bush and waited to hear her mother calling for her. She had eaten her peach and drank her water bit by bit, watching the sun move across the sky. She had waited and waited and her mother hadn’t found her. Lou had watched a tarantula hawk drag a paralyzed tarantula into her burrow to feed her babies with. The tarantula’s limp legs that offered no resistance as the wasp dragged it along on the ground had frightened Lou worse than seeing them walking around. Still, there’d been no sign of her own mother. She’d dried out her empty water jar and filled it with serviceberries and waited some more. 

Eventually, the sun had begun to set and she had thought that maybe her hiding spot had been too good. Probably, she had thought, her poor mother was worried sick. To lose her husband and two of her children, then to lose her remaining daughter without warning. What had Lou been thinking? Her mother must have been anguished. Lou had run back home as fast as she could, barefooted over rocks and briars. When she had crashed back into their home, panting and apologizing for scaring her, her mother was laying in bed, facing the wall, just as Lou had left her. Not only had she not noticed that she was gone, she hadn’t even seemed to register that she was back and greatly distressed. By that point, Lou had already stopped crying when she was upset. If she hadn’t, she’d have done nothing but cry. Instead, she had just placed the serviceberries in the pie chest, made them both peanut butter sandwiches, washed her bloody, filthy feet, and gone to sleep. When she had woken up, her mother hadn’t eaten her sandwich, so Lou had eaten it for breakfast with a mug of milk that had just begun to sour. That had been a lesson that, before that half hour of waiting fruitlessly for Artie, Lou had thought she’d fully learned: she wasn’t enough of anything for people to to miss. Her mother hadn’t even noticed she was gone. Neither would Artie.

[intriga-hounds]

i volunteered to be The Token Queer at work this year, and so naturally i started being handed all of these huge responsibilities that i have mixed feelings about.

i am now in charge of No Place For Hate at our school. i am now advisor to the GSA club, which needs a lot of help by the look of things. i am the leader of my content team for the first time. i am preparing to train staff on how to support queer students. i am planning a schoolwide initiative to teach kids how and when to stand up for each other. i need to design t shirts and stickers. i need to choose my words carefully. i need to be prepared for the barrage of parent pushback for what i’m about to do.

last week after taking over NPFH i got in my car shaking. i could feel my PVCs flare up. i thought of that woman in arrowhead that was just shot for having a rainbow flag, like the one that hangs in my classroom. i imagined a gunman coming into my room during a GSA meeting. i imagined the parents that came screaming down to the last board meeting to decry the queer representation in a single book about to be approved.

i have these fantasies about being heroic and cogent and wise, and changing the school for the better. and then i have these nightmares where i’m looking death in the face and have to do something, do something immediate and violent and risky, to make sure my kids don’t die in front of me. and i have this fear too, that if something really did happen, i wouldn’t be brave enough, fast enough, smart enough, strong enough. that i’d be dead or a coward or both.

i can’t sleep sunday nights bc i’m so excited to go to work, but so scared. my brain is a neon light blinking all night long about what if this, what if that. what if i’m really amazing at this and everyone thinks i’m great. what if i do it for attention and clout. what if i don’t do it at all. what if i do it but don’t do it well. what if i trick everyone into thinking i’m brave and selfless but really i just wanted to perform. what if i fail. what if i let the kids down. what if a 31-year-old queer professional can’t show a 15-year-old that there’s a future for them outside the closet. what if i inspire them too much and someone gets hurt.

what if what if what if

i feel like i’m holding a jar of wasps that i’m about to open, but before i open it, i’m going to shake it, knowing full well i’m about to get stung.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

A reader with wings, but instead of big, fluffy angel wings or leathery, sharp bat wings, they got beautiful, delicate fae wings.

While they aren't anywhere near as fast as Peter, they can still zip around on the battle field, making them hard to hit and harder to catch.

The wings themselves are translucent but full of colors. When the sun hits them just right, a kaleidoscope of light shines out. But they aren't just for show, no no no no! They are razor sharp despite being so thin. It's like getting a paper cut from the world's longest sheet of paper.

The fairy comparison doesn't end there, because they can shrink down to fae size! They can be travel sized for your convenience! No room in the quinjet? They can chill in someone's pocket. Not enough seats in Scott's car for a snack run? They'll sit in the cup holders, just don't squish them with your soda. Playing hide and seek? You'll never win cause Reader shrunk down and is hiding in the cookie jar. Room in the mansion gets destroyed, and they got no where to sleep? Set up a Barbie Dreamhouse in someone else's room and they r good to go.

They got a super green thumb and can be found in the greenhouse with Storm growing the weirdest plant hybrid ever. Their powers let them get real down close to the dirt and stems to see if anything is wrong. Though now they are waging a mini-war on the snails and squirrels that keep ruining their garden.

If you wanted to take it a step further, you could make them able to control plants, give them twisty vine hair, and give them pheromones. Instead of animal pheromones, they're plant pheromones, so they work a little differently, but still follow the same concept. Reader smells all floral instead of the musk the ferals have, but they could still track their bby down if they fly away.

Aaaawwww, fae mutant Reader!!! Super creative and cool! They're like the personal garden fairy, but a cut from their wings stings like a wasp!

They're great with hiding and doing missions where they need to spy or gather intel. They shrink down to an easier size, slip in, and simply stay still and listen in as long as it is safe to do so. They need to get away quick? Reader can fly them to safety, just one at a time, though! Someone tried to launch a weapon or hit at Reader's teammates during a battle or riot? Reader is using their wings to deflect anything, or cutting the person who tried to throw a punch. The garden needs an extra set of hands to keep it pest-free? Never fear, Reader will look for any mold, rot, or pests, and get rid of the problem!

They smell sweet, like roses or honeysuckle or lavender, and are beautiful, almost ethereal. Whenever the teens go out, they're making sure no one tries to get near Reader or mess with them, and Reader returns the favor. If someone makes sweet potatoes or a sweet potatoe casserole or sweet potato fries, Reader is right there, ready to taste test them! If anyone needs help lifting boxes or books, or washing dishes, or cleaning up, Reader is there to help!

(They're such a helpful bean, and the teens like hanging out with them, finding them thoughtful and a delight. The adults appreciate their helpful attitude, and do make sure to tell them they're being a big help. It's hard to feel upset with fae mutant Reader, as they're overall a helpful, thoughtful person who is quick to help and doesn't mind spending time with others)

(Cute idea, @sugar-soda! Fae mutant Reader is a delight! Which other mutations did you want to explore? Or any possible parent secret parent plot twists? I hope you're doing well! Thank you for sharing your ask!)

[mybeingthere]

I love looking at shelves lined up with preserves. My grandmother made lots from her own garden and had three cellars full of jars for the winter. She cooked jams in huge copper pans left to simmer in the yard, fired by coal and wood. Big bags of sugar were lined up to be used for "Pear and Walnut" or "Stuffed Cherry" concoctions. Baskets with raspberries and gooseberries were covered by net domes surrounded by bees and wasps aggressively buzzing outside...

Living in cities we don't do it. Every step of the process is virtually impossible, starting from buying 5 kilos of raspberries in Berlin.... then sugar, fuel, pans - I probably could have a week of holiday for this investment.

But the "making of preserves" notion remains artistic, nostalgic, romantic and pure!

The picture is from Mami's Kitchen site.

[syraxesrevenge]

collection of random hcs for the younger hotd generation

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

- jacaerys tried to have vermax sleep in his bed once. little shit set his blankets on fire.

- baela is the most talented poet out of all the kids and a very good writer. she writes sonnets for jace sometimes, and he's very appreciative.

- rhaena and rhaenyra totally have some sort of girls' night. they bond over shared love of luxurious clothing and jewelry. (i also hc rhaenyra did this with laena but thats sad)

- aegon ii once fed sunfyre wine, and they had to lock him in his dravonpit for a full two days to make sure he wouldn't burn anything down (aegon did it again anyways)

- helaenas favorite bug is a blue mud wasp because it reminds her of dreamfyre, and she has one in a jar terrarium by her bed.

- daeron is bad at math. so, so horrible. the oldtown teachers have no idea what to do with him at all its so sad.

- lucerys is the most attached to his dragon and it shows bc once when he was nine he didn't want to leave arrax so he hid in his lair on dragonmont until the morning and rhaenyra was freaking the fuck

- joff was left behind in the kings landing marketplace once and alicent had to drag him away from where he had befriended a cat (he was screaming) (she almost got arrested for kidnapping)

- aemond has a passion for music and can play multiple instruments one of which is the flute and he enjoys it even though aegon makes fun of him.

[echowithpain]

Okay... That was... an episode. Damn, I forgot how much stuff they could put in these 😅

Okay um, well first, minus one point for inserting Tonsillitis in the Christopher birthday scene. Wtf, why was he there? It was so jarring. Also why make it seem like it was gonna be Christopher at home instead of over a video call? And then you make Eddie watch as his mom talks about how happy Christopher is without him and how she and his dad are thinking about getting a pool because Christopher loves the water so much, AND THEN KEEP THE CALL GOING BUT DONT BOTHER TO BRING THE CAMERA AS PEOPLE START TO SING HAPPY BIRTHDAY???? WTF GUYS??? WHY DID YOU MAKE HIM SIT THOUGH THAT??? They couldn't even have his mom "accidentally" hang up as she was rushing over? They had to make him SIT and WATCH as his son celebrated his birthday without him... Guys... Why...

Actually -2 points for temu and for the scene being unnecessarily cruel to Eddie

Um... I'm trying to remember cause I legit forgot how full these episodes can be lol.

OH!!! ATHENA PLOT!!!

Okay, I was confused about why she said yes to helping the guy who killed her fiance but as I was going through my notifs, an anon told me "She didn’t say yes, the feds forced her to since that was the only way he’d agree to testify". Which I remember hearing and then promptly forgot because I just kept thinking "what if she said no anyway?" I kept thinking that because they never really gave her a "do this or else" thing. There was no... threat? Like I get the guy said he wouldn't testify if Athena didn't help him, but what if she said "Well I guess he won't be testifying then. Not my problem, this has fuck all to do with me and I want no part in it" Then what? Am I the only one thinking like this? They never showed Athena having her arm twisted or her hands tied (figuratively). I'm genuinely curious about what would've happened if she said no. I get they want the dude to testify but if she really said "No, I'm too emotionally involved with this case, I can't help you"... then what? I'm just saying a line or two about her being on desk duty, or she'd be suspended for a while if she refused wouldn't have hurt.

-1 point

HOLY FUCK I JUST GOT AN AWESOME IDEA!!! THE EPISODE IS CALLED BUZZKILL RIGHT? WHAT IF ITS CALLED THAT BECAUSE YES THE BEES,

BUT WHAT IF IT'S ALSO BECAUSE THE BUZZSAW KILLED CAPTAIN DICKWEED??? 😃😃😃😃😃

Dude holy fuck, if that's the case I'm gonna laugh so hard and give this episode a point back 😂😂😂

OMG speaking of bees, MINUS ONE POINT FOR HOW STUPID THE KID WAS!!!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!

You're on the phone with 911 and they're telling you not to swat at the bees because it'll make them angry and you could get stung, AND AS THEY'RE SAYING THIS YOU CONTINUE TO SWAT AT THEM???? BRUH????

A L S O !!!

If you're allergic to bees, YOU SHOULD ALREADY KNOW THIS???? The kid said she either got stung before or she's used her epi before, which would mean she would've had to have gotten stung or else she wouldn't have needed it. IF YOUVE BEEN STUNG BEFORE YOU SHOULD KNOW WHAT NOT TO DO SO THE BEES DONT GET ANGRY AT YOU AND STING YOU CAUSE YOU'RE LITERALLY ALLERGIC???? If you're allergic to something, you usually research it to make sure you avoid the thing you're allergic to at all costs! Everyone knows, or should know, if a bee is flying near you, just leave it alone or try to stay still. It may land on you and crawl around a bit, but you shouldn't freak out cause that could upset it and make it sting you.

Bee fact!: Bees don't sting people for no reason. Mainly because when they sting, it kills them! When they leave behind their stingers it literally rips out their heart so it can keep pumping the bee venom into whatever they stung, and it releases chemicals that not only make you swell up, but alerts other bees that you are a threat that needs to be dealt with. Bees don't sting all willy-nilly like that, you're thinking of asshole wasps or hornets.

The fact that so far the bees were passive to the mom and the kid but the kid was freaking the fuck out and not listening and ended up slapping herself in the face to squish the bee instead of just closing her eyes and scrunching up tight is such bullshit. AND DONT TELL ME SHE WASNT THINKING CLEARLY BECAUSE OF ADRENALINE OR WHATEVER!!!! You're gonna tell me she wasn't thinking clearly enough to literally just close her eyes and hold still, but she could concentrate at a high enough level to inject her mom with the rest of her epi pen? Yeah, okay. Sure. I definitely believe you. This is my believing face 😑

-2 points cause writing all that down actually pissed me off with how absurd it was

At least the mom one was believable (lol bee-lievable) cause she's thinking "oh good, my daughter is fine now, she's breathing again, I can finally relax- what the heck is this thing crawling on my neck- oh crap that's right, we're in a car full of bees". They could've made it so someone outside bumped into the car and they rocked inside the car and the kid accidentally rocks onto a bee, squishing it a little. Not enough to kill it but enough to make it upset and sting her. That would've been better cause the bump or whatever could've been from Captain Dickweed's poor leadership.

... anything else???

Mmm... That's all I can think of for right now, I'd have to rewatch the episode to remember anything else. If I do think of something I'll post it later, but those are my thoughts!

5/10 for the first episode of season 8. Not good, but not bad either... Perfectly mid (unless I remember something else that changes my mind lol)

I forgot how fun this was! See y'all next week 😘✨

[fanofthelamb]

SOMEONE HLEP I HAVE A WASP IN A PEANUT JAR I HAVE A WASP IN AN EMPTY PEANUT JAR. HE WAS JUST SLEEPING ON THE CARPET??????????/ LIKE FULL ON LAYING DOWN NAPPING. ON OUR CARPET???? SNOOZING LIKE HE PAYS BILLS????????? I PUT HIM IN A JAR I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD. HE IS NOT!! WE HAVE A WASP IN A PEANUT JAR THAT WAS SLEEPING IN OUR CARPET AND I HAVE TO RELEASE IT. HE KNOWS MY FACE. HE IS PROBABLY PISSED. WHAT DO I EVEN DO WITH HIM? WHAT SHOULD I NAME HIM? IF I NAME HIM WILL I GET TOO ATTACHED TO RELEASE HIM? SHOULD I EVEN RELEASE HIM???? WHY IS THERE A WASP NAPPING IN OUR HOME?

[toadstoolgardens]

Foraging for Goldenrod (Solidago)

Goldenrod or Solidago blooms in late summer/early fall across much of North America. It's beautiful golden flowers reflect the golden sun of late summer. Goldenrod is edible and medicinal and can be used as a natural dye!!

Identifying Goldenrod

Goldenrod is a member of the Asteraceae or sunflower family and likes open sunny areas like meadows, fields, and forest openings. The stems are tall and stiff with tiny golden-yellow flowers in a dense, pyramid-shaped, pluming cluster. It's a prolific perennial and can grow 0.5-2m tall.

The leaves vary slightly depending on the species of goldenrod, but they're long, narrow, and taper to a point. The edges can be smooth or slightly toothed, or slightly hairy on the underside depending on species.

Goldenrod in my area likes to grow alongside New England Aster. They make such a beautiful combination of purple and yellow and can aid in identification. If you see one you just might see the other!

Look-Alikes

Goldenrod can sometimes be mistaken for Senecio species like ragwort (left) and groundsel (right). Some Senecio species contain TOXIC pyrrolizidine alkaloids that can cause liver damage. As always please be 100% certain of your identification before harvesting!! That said, senecio's flowers are generally much larger and much fewer than goldenrod's many tiny flowers. They also tend to bloom earlier in the season than goldenrod.

Harvesting Goldenrod

All of the above-ground parts of goldenrod are edible! Harvest by snipping the top of the stems, leaves, and flower heads with scissors (about the top 1/3rd of the plant). The earlier in the blooming season the better! The later blooms tend to be more bitter and can fluff up like dandelions if you want to dry them.

If you're worried about seasonal allergies you should be safe with goldenrod! Goldenrod is insect pollinated so it doesn't need to release pollen into the air.

Whatever you do DO NOT pull up entire goldenrod plants!!! Goldenrod is a massively important plant for hundreds of pollinators including bees, butterflies, beetles, and wasps. Harvest sustainably, no pulling up by the roots, and only snip the tops you'll use!!

You can use goldenrod fresh or dry it by hanging it upside down for about a week (spread it out for adequate airflow!) or in your kitchen oven by spreading in a single layer on baking sheets and baking 4-5 hours at 170F/76C. Store dried goldenrod in an airtight container.

Goldenrod Uses & Benefits

Goldenrod as an herbal remedy is highly anti-inflammatory, great for the kidneys (prevents and flushes kidney stones, helps relieve minor bladder infections), helpful for minor respiratory issues like seasonal allergies and colds, and helps heal minor wounds and swelling when used externally. It's also edible raw or cooked! The leaves can be cooked like spinach or used in lots of tasty fall recipes like this goldenrod cornbread?!? I need it.

Safety Note: Goldenrod has been traditionally used as medicine and is regarded as very safe. That said, goldenrod taken internally has a diuretic effect. If you have any problems with the urinary system or take a diuretic already, PLEASE ask a medical professional before using. Don't use herbal medicines to treat serious health issues or in fragile populations like babies or the elderly without consulting a doctor. I AM NOT A DOCTOR I JUST LIKE PLANTS.

To use your goldenrod medicinally you can make it into tea, tincture, or infused oil. You can also make a goldenrod salve to apply externally!

Goldenrod Tea:

Add 2tbsp of fresh flowers OR 1tbsp of dried flowers to 8oz hot water.

Cover and steep 15-20 minutes before straining.

This tea can be slightly bitter with a sort of anise/licorice flavor. It's great sweetened with a little honey!

Goldenrod Tincture:

Fill a small jar 1/3 - 3/4 full with chopped fresh goldenrod flowers OR 1/4 - 1/2 full with dried goldenrod flowers.

Fill jar with high-proof (40-60%) alcohol like vodka or brandy.

Cap, label, and store out of direct sunlight at least 4-6 weeks. Strain before using.

Your tincture should be good for a year or more. Take a few drops mixed with a spoonful of honey or water. Can be taken up to 3-5 times daily or as needed.

Goldenrod Infused Oil:

Fill a jar 1/4 - 1/2 full with dried goldenrod flowers.

Pour an oil (sunflower, sweet almond, or olive are good options) over the flowers until the jar is full.

Infuse one of 3 ways:

Slow Way - cap jar and place in a dark, cool spot like a cabinet for 4-6 weeks. Strain.

Solar Way - instead of capping the jar cover it with a piece of cheesecloth or scrap of old t-shirt. Set your jar in a sunny window for a few days up to a few weeks. The sun's heat infuses your oil faster! Strain.

Speedy Way - don't cap your jar and set it uncovered in a saucepan containing a few inches of water. Heat on low for 2-3 hours, watching it carefully!! Strain.

Goldenrod Salve: if you made infused oil you can easily make it into a salve!

Add 3.5oz (100g) of your infused oil and 0.5oz (14g) beeswax to a small jar.

Place the jar into a saucepan containing a few inches of water. Heat over medium low until the beeswax melts.

Let cool and apply to minor wounds, sores, swelling, aches & pains.

You can also make a gorgeous yellow or green natural fabric dye from goldenrod!

Sources: 1, 2, 3, 4

[americanphysco]

My Melissa

A Poem by T. C. Tolbert

whose trans body is a house without a hacksaw, a nap inside

a needle, a glass vase ¾ full of smooth stones;

whose trans aorta is a mesquite tree careening through power lines, a Cooper’s Hawk

lit by lightning; whose trans lungs are two jars full

of  bumblebees singing on the uncovered back porch. Even our name is a match

tossed into the fire it started, an edgeless invocation. Melissa, a wind

made by swinging; grass cutting through concrete; bubble-wrap being danced on,

albeit slowly, as if that alone could quiet the tiny explosions down the hall. Whose

trans articular cartilage is string light threaded through the rafters; whose trans

tunica media is a sliver of decorated cardboard doubling as a protest

sign inside the window, which only serves to emphasize the window’s 
inefficacy

against the sun; whose trans epiglottis is an apron

on a hook; whose trans trapezius are cups in the sink filled

with inconsistently directed knives and spoons; whose trans metatarsals are

green beans boiling on the stove; whose trans subclavian artery is organ

pipe cactus under cloud cover; whose trans left ventricle is a black-capped goldfinch hanging

upside down to eat; whose trans lesser trochanter is a hen’s claw growing around a rope;

whose trans great saphenous veins are technologies of prediction—tarot, storm-

tracker, political polls; whose trans dead space is the undeniable pollution

of light; whose trans thyroid cartilage is commissioned

graffiti; whose trans facial hair is the gentrifier yelling

gentrification; whose trans erythrocytes are dapples of daylight

drug across a concrete block wall; whose trans stroke volume is a live-

streamed filibuster; whose trans plasma is the intimacy

of strangers immediate in an emergency; whose trans plasma proteins are women

filling a courtroom—one by one approaching the judge—performing

all the mental and physical labor of obtaining a divorce; whose trans 
integumentary system

is the myth of meritocracy; whose trans rectum is a local philanthropic institution;

whose trans bile is the taste of a slap echoing in your mother’s open palm;

whose trans femoral vein is a cat’s claw’s crafted search for the sun;

whose trans pharynx is an empty building brimming with trampolines; whose trans ovaries

are interrobangs used unironically; whose trans ureter is

a stop sign stuffed with bullet holes near a ditch filled with sunflowers near a wasp’s

nest near a farm. Sometimes I’m afraid I am afraid

of me, my trans sympathetic nervous

system, my trans fatigue

cracks, my trans 1st Corinthians 3:16 training

the god right out of my trans temple,

all trans dove, no savior; a trans baptism, holy

to be a fire (trans) trembling in the tear of the trans (daughter, trans) tongue. How I love you

now, my trans vagina, my trans manubrium, my trans Melissa, in every iteration TC

Melissa Dawn Tolbert who was even once

a Harrison, a wife to a husband; it is possible she loved

me then too. Hiding can she hear me

say thank you. To my trans uterus, my trans pectoralis major, my trans penis: the highest point

on earth is in the ocean. Sea stars, our body’s becoming. A trans prayer. An infinite, inexhaustible

rhizome of the heart. You,

whose tragus is trans, whose kidneys, whose medulla oblongata, whose

adrenal glands, whose cochlea, whose pleural space; whose trans sacrum is simultaneous,

the site of the storm and the keel of a storm-scored boat.

Whose trans arrector pili muscle is the fact that no matter when this 
sentence is read, it will be true

that someone somewhere is trying to survive a sexual assault; whose trans inferior

vena cava is a clock that has not yet been hung on the wall.

I love you time, how trans you are.

Your trans boredom, ribbon-sharp and meadow-bold. You, whose bark is

trans; whose recovery, whose lumen, whose partial pressure

(trans), in order to live, must continue to respond to changes in the lungs.

[layaart]

ARCHIVIST WASP FIREBREAK CHARACTER DESIGNS part 6

mal & jessa, & their game avatars!

mal’s not super described, other than black clothes. same with jessa: other than a jacket covered in pins and patches, and fandom shirts.

I decided to go full neonpastel, which I feel like suits her personality, and is a contrast to mal. (I did make the shirt and shoes black though, because it was looking Too bright considering the tone of the book and also like, they're not exactly rich, mismatched clothes is gonna be a given.

for the game avatars: i know it’s like, more of a hyperrealistic military game but a) i’m already drawing in a cartoon style and b) it’s just more fun to make them cartoony fortnite vibes (note: I barely know any games). so giving them that kind of everyone’s-the-same-height-(tall) body shape

nycorix is basically as described, clothes-wise, (in hindsight, I think she probs has a tie? forgot that lol) & she’s holding the battery or whatever it is they get. (dee mentioned this is like a ghost jar........I’m gonna pretend that was intentional)

queenoftheraids: only thing that’s mentioned is two blasters (which I would have drawn bigger if the right hand one wouldn’t obscure so much), otherwise just upped the neon sporty vibes!

[bellsandstars]

elpis

i was never very much good with saying stuff. phrases fall from my mouth in messy knots, never to be unraveled. i speak with blades on my tongue and write with fire on my hands. i find solace in smoke and tears, sadness is comfortable and easy.

but i yearn for true happiness like the first rays of sunshine in april or flowers in may. i look for the divine in every small thing, praying out loud, “god can you hear me?” i don’t want this to be my existence. all these lonely delusions and jars full of hope.

what is one to do with hope anyway? what help has elpis ever been?

i’m standing on an overpass, screaming nonsense at some cars.

don’t i want to get better? don’t i want to be happy? why do i ruin every good thing? it washes away with fall leaves, down drains, into sewers.

i learned how to write from her but she never calls me anymore. just ignores me like i ignored her. i knew what she could never face. and i regret telling it to her anyway.

i drove away the one person who grew words like blossoms, who wrote cathedrals and waterfalls, who had flowers spilling from her tongue and her hands. it was the right decision but it is like wasps in my eyelids and nails in my bloodstream.

how do i heal from thorns that pricked eons ago? what else is there to do but mourn? what good has that fool in the jar ever been?

[tanushakyrano]

febuwhump day 11: fever

we will pretend that it is not a couple minutes after midnight please and thank you,,, bit more light-hearted one today!

characters: Gordon, Alan, Kayo

additional warnings: none

_____________

The thing that finally takes him out is the flu, because of course it is. Two years of WASP and two more in iR refusing to be kept down by injuries, but he catches the common cold and suddenly Gordon is confined to his bed for a full week.

It had started out as a sore throat. Not too bad, he just downed a honeyed tea in the morning and hoped for the best.

Then, like an idiot, he'd gone on a rescue to Antarctica.

That had been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

He wakes on Saturday morning feeling like he's been dragged through a hedge in his sleep. Every limb aches. He has a headache that ranks easily in his top ten most painful over the course of his life, and that's including all the concussions. The light hurts his eyes. Gordon groans, and curls up under the covers as if he's five again, and not being able to see the world will mean the world can't see him and therefore his problems will magically disappear.

It doesn't work.

He's too hot and too cold all at the same time, but in the end the hot overpowers the cold and he struggles out from under his tangled sheets to try and get a breath of fresh air. His skin feels all sort of sticky, which really, really sucks.

The sheets aren't completely enveloping him any more, but he's still too hot and he kicks them off. It takes him a minute; clearly he’d tossed and turned so much in his sleep that they’ve coiled around him, trapping his limbs.

All of a sudden he just really wants a nice cool glass of water.

Down to the kitchen it is, then. The world spins alarmingly as he pushes himself up off the bed, which is fine, right? It's fine. He's fine. Just needs a second for his head to clear.

The bare floorboards are delightfully cool on his feet. Gordon pads out of his room, one hand on the wall as he heads downstairs.

Unfortunately, the kitchen is not empty when he gets there. Alan is mid-fridge-raid, eating pickles straight out of the jar, looking distinctly like a raccoon rooting around for scraps in the trash. Gordon tries to sneak past him quietly, just get a drink of water and head off somewhere else, but his body is not having it. His limbs are all disjointed. He catches his foot on the tiles and all of a sudden Gordon is lying face-up on the floor, a wide-eyed face staring back at him in concern.

"You look like shit," Alan deadpans, crouching next to him.

Gordon groans.

Alan sits him up carefully against the island. Gordon's head is pounding even worse after it slammed full speed into the ground, white-hot needles sticking into his skull. His brother's hand rests against his forehead, wonderfully cold against the fire in his body.

"Dude. You're like, really sick." Alan's kneeling by his side. "You should be in bed."

"Bed is for losers," Gordon mumbles. Alan raises an eyebrow. Clearly, he's not impressed.

"Alan? Are you still-"

Kayo stops mid-sentence, head poking round the doorway. "Oh. What's wrong with you?"

"He's sick," Alan informs her, despite Gordon's attempts to speak over him and claim that he's fine, actually, he just needs a glass of water. "He fell over."

Kayo sighs, coming over to crouch at his other side. "How about we get you somewhere comfier than the floor?"

Being not on the floor sounds pretty great to Gordon about now. He nods, and Kayo slings one of his arms around her shoulders and hauls him up. It sets the whole room off spinning again.

"C'n I have… some water?" he asks, the words tripping over themselves on his tongue.

"Course." Kayo raises her eyebrows at Alan - still hovering round them both, unsure of what to do - and he nods in understanding after a second, heading over to the cupboard with the glasses in it. "You can have a drink once we're sat down in the den, okay?"

" 'Kay." He chuckles. "Get it? Cause…I said okay. 'N you're Kayo."

She shoots him a look. "Your endless wit continues to astound me."

"Love you too…"

They're halfway to the couch when Gordon's brain shorts out. He's trying his best, he really is, but his head just hurts so much and his ankle's still twinging from when he fell in the kitchen. It doesn't faze Kayo, though; she simply scoops him up, carrying him the rest of the way before laying him down on the couch, propped up by the cushions.

Alan helps him sip at the water he's brought in from the kitchen. Kayo tucks a blanket over him. It's nice. Better than lying on the floor, anyway.

The drowsiness that's been deep in his bones since he opened his eyes that morning finally takes ahold of him. Surrounded by his siblings, Gordon sleeps.

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

absolutely unhinged Top 5 Beatdown things that have me feral:

besides the fact that nobody mentioned jackalopes or the fresno nightcrawler while not mentioning the basis of thunderbirds in native american lore

Garret’s entire being when he comes in. Soft boi!

Ryan and Shane’s old straight married couple vibes continuing

Ryan calling out Annie for dropping the shot.

“my balls are not cryptids” “oh that’s my whole list”

“it lies to people?” “and it talks”

“it bites its own ass”

“that’s probably the worst snake i’ve seen since that penis snake”

“i don’t know what that means and i don’t want to know. don’t expound up on it. don’t let him do this! he’s just going to show you his penis, this is what he does” cue ryan losing his shit

ryan visibly restraining himself from commenting about shane’s bird

“akin to a pumpkin spice latte”

dunsten checks in for the second time this season

“beautiful rendering”

they can go into a jar

it’s not outlandish to be like, maybe it’s hiding in that 95%

how giant? big! big big big!

you know what else they thought were strange sea monsters--whale penis! let me show you a picture

ryan looks at shane’s phone despite the fact he should know better by now

raisin bran nessie

nessie flipping the bird

humps in the water--yeah, BACK humps, not like--

mongolian death worm

garrett and ryan having a full conversation about checking their backseats for killers while shane goes through the six stages of grief

“you always wanna talk about your worm!”

garrett regretting his life choices as shane talks about eating worms

“i love! this worm!”

shane’s delight at the reveal of the vegetable lamb of tartary. “how very whimsical!”

plants don’t have mouths or vocal cords so they might be screaming

you guys want to harm these cryptids

“what if it was just like a fucked up guy”

mothman callback to the mothman call in the bu mothman episode

ryan and shane still impressed with the mothman statue’s ass

ryan and shane once again being given a trajectory for what straight dudes act like and missing by a mile

ryan asking for a picture of mothman’s ass

“no, don’t give him that”

ryan reassuring him no it’s good dude

then the whole sidebar about nightwing’s ass

swamp santa

“you MUST go, it is absolutely delightful“ said in the tone of a rich WASP talking about taking summers at martha’s vineyard

the sad realization that the boys haven’t been to the mothman festival and garrett turning down that offer

good guy, great statue, very erotic

“in deepest java, there is a wing’d creature”

ryan comparing his hand to garrett and shane’s

taken to GOD knows where

get your fuckin hand out of my face

seems like you want to see a lot of their genitals

“well no, from a scientific--” “no don’t bring your pervy stuff in here”

[gayhenrycreel]

one time i found a bug that was struggling to walk. i put it in a jar. the next morning i woke up and checked on it. the bugs exoskeleton was full of tiny holes and there were tiny grubs around it. im sorry buggy. i didn't know Aotearoa had parasitic wasps. i should have put you out of your misery

[ninakaina]

my girlfriend is so fucked up on bad conveyor belt sushi she just told me she likes to hold hands with the kermit puppet she keeps in her truck and then sang an improv song that started with "i got a jar full of wasps"