#i absolutely fucking love writing wormie. she <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

okay, this is a halfway to 7k unedited fantasy au snippet! Out Of Context as usual!

some warnings for this one: blood, gore, major character injury, graphic description of injury <3 i had fun w/ it not sorry <3

~

The front door slams open, stalling all conversation inside. A flash of lightning illuminates the two forms huddled in the doorway, one considerably larger than the other.

Barnaby staggers a half-step inside, dripping water all over the floor. That alone has Howdy putting down the glass and moving across the bar to better assess the situation. Eddie is struggling to support Barnaby’s listing weight, and both of them are clutching at Barnaby’s belly. They’re both soaked through.

Someone gasps, and the folks seated nearest to the door stand and back away, muttering in alarm. Howdy’s stomach plummets. Some of the water puddling on the floor is too dark to be just that. Barnaby’s front, under where his massive paw is clutched, is drenched dark as well. 

Eddie catches his eye - he looks wild with fear. 

“Out!” Howdy thunders. “Everyone out! I don’t care about your tabs or if you’re not done - if you have a room, go there, if you don’t, scram!”

Some people cast him and Eddie dirty looks, but they start to get up, grumbling all the while. Howdy couldn’t care less. Not when Barnaby is leaning so heavily on Eddie, his breathing so labored that Howdy can hear it amidst the shuffle and scrape of patrons leaving.

“What happened?” Julie yells, running across the room from the neighborhood booth. 

“Make sure everyone gets out,” Howdy says, redirecting her. Julie doesn’t look happy about it, but she complies. The patrons start to clear out faster with her aggressive ‘assistance’. Howdy throws his drying towel off to the side and nearly vaults over the bar to help support Barnaby. He reaches to sling Barnaby’s other arm over his shoulders-

“Don’t!” Eddie cries. He doesn’t let go from the wound, and Barnaby cringes away from Howdy with a breathy echo - “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Howdy says, panic rising in his throat. He looks closer at the wound Barnaby and Eddie are holding - this time he has to swallow down bile. Glistening, blood-slicked pink pulses under their hands. Barnaby whines softly. He’s terribly pale under his fur.

“Everyone’s gone!” Julie announces. 

Howdy snaps out of his horrified trance. He points at the bar. “Clear a spot on the floor for him on the floor, make sure we have room to work.”

Julie makes a frustrated noise but complies once again. Howdy slips around to Eddie’s side and trades places with him, but Eddie doesn’t let go of the wound. The sudden weight makes Howdy stumble, but he quickly widens his stance and starts shuffling them to the area Julie is clearing. They help Barnaby lower to the ground, and every pained whine and gasp is like an arrow to the heart. Eddie whispers apologies all the way down. Barnaby’s free paw leaves scratches in the bar’s cherry wood.

“Ed, I need you to get my supplies from my room,” Howdy says, rolling up his sleeves with quick, expert flicks.

Eddie looks at him like he’s crazy. “I can’t let go!” 

“I’m here to take your place - four arms are better than two, now get!” 

Eddie still hesitates, but slips away once Howdy puts all four of his hands where Eddie’s measly two were. It’s hot, and wet, and - and -

It becomes immediately clear that this is a wound they can’t fix, not without an extraordinarily talented healer. 

“Julie,” Howdy chokes out, “get Poppy.”

“Okay,” Julie says faintly, right behind him. She slowly backs away, and all at once sprints for the front door. A burst of fresh, rain-filled air blows inside before the door closes again. The cold shock makes Barnaby flinch and gasp. 

“Hold on, Barn.” Howdy forces himself to look at Barnaby’s face instead of the pulsing guts bulging from the gash someone sliced across his belly. The soaked fur under and around it looks purple. “Help will be here in a jiff, so don’t you go falling asleep on me.”

“Tryin’,” Barnaby wheezes, and his voice has never sounded so much like music, “tryin’ not to. It’s - stars, it hurts, Howdy-”

“I know, but you gotta hang in there, pal. Poppy will fix you right up.”

“I…” Barnaby makes a wretched noise that sounds like a sob, “I don’t wanna die.” He whines, a leg weakly kicking out as his guts twitch. “M’ not ready, Howds, m’ not…”

“You’re not going to die,” Howdy insists even as Barnaby’s blood soaks his hands and sleeves. 

He doesn’t want Barnaby to die, either, but who knows where Poppy is - there’s no guarantee that she’s home, and even if she is, her abode is clear across town. Julie is a fast runner, but in this weather… with such a distance…

Barnaby is going to die. 

Howdy will do his damned best to keep that from happening. 

Clattering precedes Eddie sprinting around the corner. He checks the bar hard, but doesn’t fall or flinch. He takes the hit and slides to his knees by Barnaby’s side and opens the pack. Howdy almost reaches out to rummage through it himself, but Barnaby’s paw starts to slip from the wound. 

“No no, none of that.” Howdy nudges it back into place with his knee and tries to jostle Barnaby with the same motion. “Eyes open and paw up, Barn.”

“Tryin’,” Barnaby whispers. His eyelids flutter in a vain attempt to stay open. His breathing rattles.

Howdy doesn’t need to tell Eddie what to look for, and thank the heavens for that, because Howdy doesn’t think he can look away from Barnaby’s pained features, much less form words that aren’t incoherent prayers to any god that will listen. Barnaby’s paw slips, and Howdy has to lunge to keep his insides from becoming his outsides. Just his hands aren’t enough - he needs to use his forearms. There’s so much of it. 

Eddie scoots forward and holds up a potion, and Howdy nearly howls in anguish. “Not that one! The healing potions - the red ones!”

“I know that!” Eddie snaps just as viciously, which is enough of a shock that Barnaby gains a moment of startled clarity. Eddie uses it to coax him to drink the golden energy potion. “I have some healin’ powers of my own - I can buy him more time than your bruise busters, and you’re fresh out of those, anyway!”

Out?

Howdy stares at his pack in horror. That’s right. He hasn’t restocked - oh, he’s a fool! He allowed himself to grow complacent and reliant on Eddie and Poppy’s healing. He has no time to thoroughly curse his inaction, as Barnaby’s paw comes back up to the wound, and his back arches as he wails his agony. The potion kicked in. Eddie quickly shoves his paw away again and holds his hands to the corner of the gash, his palms glowing orange.

“Oh, oh no,” Barnaby sobs, his boots and claws scraping wood, “Ed, stop-!”

“I’m sorry,” is all Eddie says. He shoves Barnaby’s paw aside when he tries to pry Eddie away. Barnaby grabs for the nearest thing with his other paw, which happens to be Howdy’s thigh. Howdy bites back a pained hiss at the feeling of claws digging sharp through his pants. The cold water saturating Barnaby’s paw soaks the fabric in seconds, creating a contrast to the pinpricks of hot welling up under the claws.

Howdy eyes the healing glow and the strain on Eddie’s face. It won’t be enough - Howdy doubts it will give Barnaby any time at all. The thin corner of the gash slowly knits together, but the rest of it is too wide, too deep. The only reason Eddie can heal any of it at all is due to how clean the slice is. The blade that created this wound must have been freshly sharpened, or enchanted. Howdy can tell at a glance that it cut through Barnaby like a knife through marmalade. 

Eddie heals the other tapered end. He and Howdy exchange a glance - Howdy sees it in his eyes that the healing is just a platitude. Blood continues to soak Barnaby’s pants, Howdy’s, their hands, Howdy’s clothes, the floor. 

Abruptly, Howdy is keenly aware of how quiet the tavern is. Rain drums on the roof and thunder rolls outside. The fireplace crackles. How long will it take to scrub the blood out of the wood flooring? How long will Howdy spend staring at the scratches etched into the bar?  

“How- Howdy,” Barnaby says. He isn’t gripping Howdy’s leg as hard anymore, but he gives it a weak squeeze. “Gotta tell ya - hng - somethin’. Shoulda… told ya sooner, but-”

“Save it for later,” Howdy says quickly. “You can gab all you want when you’re better.”

There likely won’t be a later, or better, and that’s half the problem. Call Howdy selfish, but he won’t let Barnaby make this hurt more than it already does. More than it will. He would rather live with a might’a than a could’a.

Barnaby knows it, because his eyes mist up and he nods weakly. “Yeah. When I’m… when I’m better. Can I ask a fa-favor?”

“Anythin’,” Eddie murmurs. Howdy had forgotten he’s there.

“Find Wally for me?”

Eddie lays a bloody hand on Barnaby’s arm, steely determination flashing in his eyes. “We will. I swear it on my patron’s light.”

“That’s a…” Barnaby pauses to grimace and swallow thickly, “a big promise, Ed.”

“I’ll make sure he keeps it,” Howdy says.

“M’ sure you will. But, but… if Wally really is gone… hey, I’ll say hi to ‘em for ya.” Barnaby manages a shaky half-smile. “At least that’d be one - one good thing ta’ come outta this, huh?”

Howdy’s composure cracks. He chokes down sobs as he slumps over Barnaby, uncaring of the awkward position or the insides sandwiched against his front, drenching his apron and shirt with blood. He hides his tears in Barnaby’s cold, waterlogged ear. Barnaby uses what little strength he has left to turn his head, weakly nuzzling the side of Howdy’s face. His breath is warm. Weak, but warm.

Distantly, Howdy hears Eddie curse and ask “Where are they?” The clink of his armor fades, and the door opens just enough to let in the scent of rain. Howdy hears more than feels Barnaby breathe it in. As close as they are, Howdy can hear the wet rattle in Barnaby’s chest.

Should Howdy do something to make him more comfortable? Would Barnaby’s herbs ease his pain? Even if it would, if anything would, Howdy can’t let go. That would hurt him more, and Howdy refuses to give up that tiny sliver of hope that something can be done. 

The door slams open to let in a thunder of footsteps. Howdy snaps upright, and he’s certain that if he didn’t have a job to do, he’d collapse. 

“Oh dear, oh-” Poppy squawks loud enough to make everyone cringe, her feathers fluffing up. “My feathers, that’s! Oh! That is much worse than what you told me!”

“One can hardly fault her,” Sally says before Julie can respond. She kneels by Howdy with Poppy right behind her. “Are you with us, Barnaby?”

No response. 

Howdy goes cold. “Barn?”

Sally briskly taps Barnaby’s cheek until he twitches, his eyelids barely lifting before falling shut once more. “Still with us!”

If Howdy wasn’t already crying, he’d start now.

“Can you fix it?” Eddie asks from off to the side.

Julie paces anxiously. “Of course she can! Poppy’s the best healer for miles, there’s nothing she can’t do. Right, Poppy? He’ll be up and joking in no time!”

“I.” Poppy’s feathers shake as she dances them over the open wound. “I will most certainly try, but I can’t do it on my own. It’s too severe for my magic to do much of anything. Sally, dear-”

“No,” Sally says immediately, her glow dimming. “You cannot be serious, I won’t - I simply will not-”

“You must. We all need to work together - Howdy and Eddie need to hold the wound shut. It won’t just be you.”

“We need to what now?” Eddie says, even as he settles on Howdy’s other side. “What’s going on?”

Howdy feels sick. “You and I have to make sure his insides stay inside, while Sally will-”

“Sally won’t,” Sally says. “As much of a nuisance as he likes to make himself, Barnaby is my friend! I could never-”

“Then you’re alright with losing him!”” Howdy snarls. “Perhaps you’d like to trade places with me and feel him die under your hands instead!”

Sally gapes at him, stricken. Her mouth flaps for a moment before she shuts it firmly and turns to the wound, lifting her hands. 

“What does she have to do?” Julie asks.

Everyone ignores her - not out of unkindness. Poppy nods to Eddie and Howdy. Eddie places his hands in the spaces where Howdy can’t completely reach. They exchange a glance and push.

There was a time when Howdy received an overpacked shipment of linked sausages. He had no room to store it yet, but the sack it arrived in tore. Shoving them back in - even with all four of his hands - was nigh impossible. It was impressive how the sausages had managed to fit at all, because the sack was certainly too small. 

Shoving Barnaby’s guts back into his stomach is a lot like that.

Barnaby cringes and moans in his nearly-unconscious state, feebly trying to get away from what is certainly agonizing pain. His brow bunches up, and he whines high in his throat. 

Howdy can’t spare a thought to it. Blood and organs squelch as Howdy and Eddie rush to cram it all inside - there’s no time for caution. As soon as the last slip of pink is inside - it’s so, so dark and red past the blue - they squeeze the wound shut to the best of their abilities. Barnaby sobs quietly.

“Now,” Poppy says, and Sally’s palms burn hot enough to make Howdy’s skin itch.

She holds her hands to the sealed gash, and Barnaby starts wailing. Too weak to thrash, he just writhes softly and keens, tears freely spilling down his face and carving dark tracks in his drying fur. His paw twitches around Howdy’s leg, claws digging in again like he wants to grab or yank or something.

“Almost there, Barn,” Howdy lies. Part of him wishes Barnaby would fall fully into unconsciousness. It would be dangerous, but at least he wouldn’t feel this. 

The acrid stench of burning fur and flesh fills Howdy’s nose. Sally and Eddie both gag. Heels rapidly click across the tavern as Julie sprints to the nearest waste bin, and she retches loudly into it. Howdy barely registers it - he’s barely breathing, himself. 

“Well done, all of you,” Poppy murmurs as Sally cauterizes. She holds her wingtips to the cooked flesh of the wound as Sally continues, and they glow coal red. The wound glows with it, the angry blistered flesh smooths and pales, and blue fur starts to grow back before their eyes. 

Barnaby’s paw falls from Howdy’s leg as he starts to slump, cries petering off into agonized whines. Poppy doesn’t seem alarmed, and Howdy just wants his pain to stop, so no one moves to keep him awake.

Soon, Sally has to shuffle in front of Howdy and Eddie to continue. They’re loath to move, so she awkwardly lies across their laps and reaches. As soon as she burns her way to the end that Eddie healed, Poppy gives them the all-clear. 

Eddie lets go first, slumping back on his heels. Sally is still draped across Howdy’s lap with her head pillowed on Eddie’s. The three of them catch their breath as they watch Poppy brush her healing feathers across Barnaby’s stomach. Julie staggers over to them and kneels next to Eddie. She leans against him, sniffling. Howdy doesn’t have it in him to protest when Eddie not only loops an arm around her shoulders, but around Howdy’s waist as well.

Barnaby is finally unconscious, his features slack  - Howdy places a hand on his chest to make sure, and the shallow rise and fall of it is more priceless than all the coin in the world. Howdy slowly sits. His hand trails down as Poppy pulls her wings back, and his fingertips dance on the silvery smooth line of a fresh scar. 

“I’ve done all I can,” Poppy says with a gusty sigh. “So have the rest of you - again, well done. You all did splendidly.”

“I don’t feel splendid,” Sally croaks.  

“Well… you are. Quite splendid. Let’s get him up and to a bed.” Poppy’s first attempt at standing fails. Sally all but leaps up to help support her, and she laughs nervously. “I’m afraid that took quite a bit out of me. There was more to heal than I expected, dear me.”

“Will he be okay?” Julie asks. 

Poppy looks at Barnaby with a soft, sad look in her eyes. “I can’t say for certain. It’s up to Barnaby, now… all we can do is make sure he’s comfortable. A-and keep a close eye on him! There could be, ah… complications. Infections, and the like. Mh, I’m sure it won’t come to that, though. Sally’s fire should have burned out anything nasty.”

Howdy belatedly realizes that he needs to help carry Barnaby. He kneels on shaky legs and gently maneuvers Barnaby’s dead wei- unconscious weight to the side. Howdy slips his upper arms under Barnaby’s, using his lower set to help support his back. Eddie takes one side, Sally and Julie take the other. Poppy does her best to help, but she can only lift Barnaby’s unbloodied leg with her beak. 

They shuffle their way to a ground floor room. There’s plenty, but Howdy once again chooses to be selfish and brings them to one near to his own. Near is subjective - Howdy lives on the second floor, but the staircase to his private suite is as close to Barnaby’s temporary room as it can get. Barnaby will be sleeping right below Howdy. If anything happens, he’ll hear.

They get Barnaby onto the bed, and all of them breathe sighs of relief - and mild pain, in Eddie’s case as he stretches his back. Poppy asks for Julie to stay and assist her with getting Barnaby adjusted. 

Howdy doesn’t wait for a dismissal. He stumbles his way out of the room with Sally and Eddie in tow, his heart jackrabbiting. It feels like he grabbed hot coals, or swallowed a bolt of lightning. He’s shaky and ill and he just held Barnaby’s intestines in his hands.

Howdy leans over the bar and blindly grabs a bottle from underneath it. He uncorks it with his mouth, spits the cork to the side, and starts chugging. The alcohol burns as it goes down. It’s cheap, bitter, and easy to focus on. He comes up for breath with a small gasp and coughs, wincing at the aftertaste.

Cleaning supplies clatter as Eddie brings them out of the supply closet - Howdy wasn’t aware he knew where that was. It’s just a bucket of water and a scrubber. Not that he’ll do much good. He’s still caked in blood and mud. Dishes clink as Sally cleans up the ample messes that the patrons left behind. Howdy takes another swig and stares blankly at the shelf behind the bar.

The blank eyes of the Wally-puppet stare back at him. At least the real Wally wasn’t here to see that. Howdy doesn’t know what he would have done, or how he would have reacted… best not to imagine. In any case, Howdy hopes that by the time they find Wally, this whole experience will be nothing but another story. 

Howdy goes to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand - oh. Right. It’s still covered in blood. All four of them are. The blood glistens when Howdy holds out his hands. It’s warm and tacky, clinging to his fingers like sap as he spreads them. 

It’s Barnaby’s blood. 

These hands were inside of Barnaby’s gutted stomach, and Howdy can still feel the sickening heat and the way it all pulsed and twitched and-

Howdy copies Julie’s example and vomits into the nearest acceptable receptacle. The alcohol tastes better going the other way, even if it burns worse. 

Once the dry heaving stops, Howdy sinks to the ground, shaking with silent sobs. His legs curl up and he presses the heels of his upper hands to his forehead, hugging himself with his lower arms. The crimson-soaked fabric of his shirt squishes and sticks to his skin.

Everything Sally carries rattles, and every few minutes something falls. Chipped cups, shattered plates, clattering platters. After each breakage, she picks up the shards and keeps clearing the tables. The constant swish, swish, swish of scrubber bristles on wood fill the silence between rattling dishware and rolls of thunder. Eddie scrubs at the one spot on the floor, where Barnaby sat. The water he pours and scrubs quickly turns pink, then red. 

The door opens, letting in yet another gust of air. It slowly closes, and Frank’s shrill voice cries out, “What in the heavens happened in here?”

Anger rises sharply in Howdy’s gut - and vanishes as soon as it came. There’s no use in being mad at Frank - they didn’t explicitly go with Eddie and Barnaby on their day trip. He was gathering information. There was no way he could have known what would happen. 

Frank belatedly notices the thick trail of blood on the floor, and sidesteps it before rushing to Eddie. “Is everyone okay? Who’s hurt? That’s not your blood, is it-”

“It’s not mine,” Eddie says, not looking away from his task. Swish, swish, swish. When Frank reaches for him, he waves them off. “Stay back, it’s a mess. I’ll take care of it - I’m taking care of it.”

He isn’t taking care of it.

Frank takes a step back, his eyes wide enough that Howdy can see the whites of them clear across the tavern. Frank looks over the trail of blood, the puddle, bootprints, the smeared handprints, and the sheer amount coating not only Eddie, but Howdy too. Sally doesn’t make a move to acknowledge Frank as she stacks wood platters and ceramic plates. More blood stains her from where she kneeled in it, and laid across Howdy and Eddie. 

A scraaaaape precedes Julie backing into the tavern proper with a large tub of steaming water. Howdy makes a desperate sound and scrambles over to it. He thrusts his arms into the water and scrubs furiously at his skin and sleeves, ignoring the burn of the slightly too-hot temperature. Julie’s stare sears into him for only a moment before she takes a shuddering breath and steps out of the splash zone. 

“Frank!” she says a touch too loudly, oozing false cheer. “You’re back! Did you find anything?”

“Did I - what does that matter! Julie, what’s going on?”

“Oh, Barnaby got a little hurt, but he’s resting now.”

Frank incredulously gestures to the tavern’s general state. “A little hurt?”

“Barnaby’s fine now,” Julie reiterates. “Poppy is taking care of him.”

“How did - why did - what -”

Howdy slowly stops scrubbing. His skin feels raw under his fuzz as he stands, water sluicing from his arms. He unties his apron as he returns to the bar and tosses it over a stool. He sits on the one next to it and snatches the open bottle of - whatever it is. It’s alcohol. That’s what matters. He rests his head in his hands between acrid swigs. 

“Everything is okay! Poppy is the best healer around, it’s nothing she can’t handle,” Julie chirps. No one calls her out on the proven lie. She starts collecting straggling dishes alongside Sally. “We’re just helping Howdy clean up.”

In his periphery, Howdy catches Frank side-eyeing him. He chugs from the bottle for a moment and slams it back down, if only to make a point. Frank is the only one to jolt at the sharp bang.

Frank slowly crouches by Eddie, frowning deeper than normal. He mutters something too quiet for Howdy to hear from the other end of the bar. Eddie says something back - Frank lays a hand on his shoulder, and Howdy scowls miserably into his drink. His thigh itches.

Swish, swish- the scrubber finally stills. Eddie shoots to his feet, his armor clattering loudly, and he steadies himself against the counter as his other hand flies to his forehead. “Oh no. Oh, no…”

Everyone stills, and the tension in the room thickens palpably. 

“What is it?” Frank asks.

Eddie looks at Howdy with horror in his eyes. “We lost Wormie. Barn dropped his hat when we were ambushed - there was no time to stop. We couldn’t…”

“Show me,” Howdy says, leaping off of his stool and charging for the door. Eddie follows hot on his heels.

The rain is freezing. It soaks Howdy through to the bone as soon as he steps out from under the tavern awning.

Howdy doesn’t dare go back to get a coat, even if all he has on are his thin work clothes. The cold nearly knocks the breath out of him, but he focuses on the alcohol warm in his stomach and plunges into the storm. He slows just enough to let Eddie - and, apparently, Sally - pass him. She carves a way through the pitch black night.

Mud saturates Howdy’s boots and the cuffs of his pants. It sticks unpleasantly to his skin and only worsens the chill as they run past dark buildings. Few windows glow orange, proving how late it’s gotten. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since Barnaby was injured. Even with Sally,’s light, it’s going to be impossible to find Wormie in this weather.

Howdy’s eyes burn as they leave the town’s muddy streets and plunge into the terribly dark forest. What if they don’t find her? The thought is almost too much to bear. Howdy doesn’t think he could face Barnaby when - if - he wakes up. They’ve already lost Wally, and that alone has had Barnaby in shambles. But if they lost his beloved little worm, too? 

It feels like they run through the woods for hours. Eddie keeps slipping and tripping, but manages to keep his legs under him. Howdy’s mind whirls with what-ifs and maybes and hows and whys. Eddie and Barnaby were ambushed so far away - why did they come to Howdy’s tavern instead of going right to Poppy’s? How horrible was it to go all the way into town in that state, in this weather? What if Wormie drowned, or was trampled, frozen, taken -

“I think it was here,” Eddie shouts over the thunder and rain. A flash of lightning illuminates the ground through the waving treetops. 

“You think?” Sally says. Howdy wishes he had said it first - now is not the time for Eddie’s navigational dysfunction! 

“I don’t know, Sally! I wasn’t really paying attention on account of keepin’ Barn’s insides from spillin’ everywhere!” Eddie doesn’t say it to be cruel, Howdy knows.

It doesn’t stop him from feeling unsteady all over again, or stop Sally’s glow from dimming. He glances around like he expects to see more blood, though even if this is the correct area, the rain has washed any evidence away. Howdy turns in a circle, tangling his upper hands in his hair. 

There’s no way of knowing. There’s no way of finding such a tiny, sweet little creature- lightning flashes, catching on leather outside of Sally’s glow.

Howdy lunges for the hat, uncaring of how his knees sink deep into frigid mud as he snatches it up. The hat is grimy, but undamaged. Even Ms. Beagle’s feather is intact. But when Howdy turns it over, his heart sinks.

Nothing inside.

Nothing on the ground around it either, even when he digs through the mud to make sure. Eddie hesitantly touches Howdy’s shoulder, and Sally’s warm glow envelops his back. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. He sniffles. “I should’ve grabbed her. I should’ve-”

“You prioritized our bard,” Sally says. “We can’t fault you for that.”

They can’t. Howdy… Howdy wants to, but he can’t find it in himself. He’s cold, he’s tired, he wants to go make sure Barnaby is being taken care of. He looks around a final time, blinking against the rainwater pouring over his eyes.

Nothing but muddy soil, bushes, trees, darkness. 

Howdy clutches the hat to his chest and stands, stumbling slightly. His friends steady him, and his face pinches. He shouldn’t have drank so much at once. It’s finally getting to him, and soon he’ll be of no use at all. He can already feel the faint buzz in his head.

“We’ll come back in the morning,” Sally promises, tugging gently on his lower arm.

Howdy makes a pained noise. She won’t make it to morning. It’s too cold, she’s too small. All they’ll find is her little frozen body. 

“Hold on.” Eddie holds out an arm to stop them. “Can you hear that?”

“It’s impossible to hear anything over this storm,” Sally says. 

“No, no… I’m sure I heard something. It was a - a little, it was a little…”

Peep.

Howdy’s waterlogged antennae snap upright, and he whips around to stare at a nearby tree. A past storm must have nearly blown it over, as half of the base seems uprooted. Gnarled roots arc and tangle out of the ground. Howdy falls to his knees in front of the dark hole under the trunk. 

Another peep comes from inside.

“Sal, I need your light,” Howdy says, fumbling for her. Her golden glow fills the space, and he nearly sobs. 

Wormie squints up at them, curled into a tiny ball and shaking like the wet leaves she lies on. Mud covers her colors - if her eyes weren’t open, one could mistake her for a twig. Her harness blends into the rest of her. She peeps again. 

“Hey, gal,” Howdy murmurs, reaching into the shelter. Her antennae make a feeble attempt at raising, and she stretches her neck out towards his fingers. He slips them underneath her and lifts her out, making sure to shield her from the rain with his body. 

“Thank the stars,” Eddie says wetly. “For a moment there I thought we lost her.”

Howdy curls his fingers around Wormie, his heart breaking at how violently she shakes. 

“Should I take her? She must be freezing, the poor thing” Sally says, holding out a hand. Howdy holds her out, and Wormie lifts her head as Sally’s warm glow washes over her. She blinks at the offered trade, then drops her head and nestles into Howdy’s palm. Sally retracts her hand. “Apparently not.”

Howdy hooks the hat over that hand, and Wormie lets out a mournful peep. He lets Sally and Eddie pull him through the forest, staying hunched over the hat and murmuring reassurances. He starts quietly crying again at some point. The rain washes away his tears and sounds. By the time they return to the tavern, he’s exhausted himself. They all stumble through the doorway as a soaked, grimy trio.

Julie and Frank flurry over to fuss over them, but Howdy staggers past their worries. All he knows through the cotton in his head is that he needs a hot bath. He leaves their chatter behind and makes his way down the hallway, only pausing to listen at Barnaby’s door. 

Poppy is humming to herself. Howdy sags against the wall for a moment, taking solace in how calm she sounds. For a moment, he imagines going inside and resting at Barnaby’s bedside, but… later, he promises himself. When he’s in clean clothes and feels less like collapsing. 

Climbing the stairs to his room is a feat in itself, but Howdy manages it without tripping over the steps. He closes his door behind him and sighs, tempted to just fall asleep on the floor and deal with everything later. But Wormie is still shivering in his hand, and he might as well kill two birds with one stone. 

The hat is placed on the table for cleaning. Howdy hates to let go of Wormie, but he places her on the crown while he runs a bath. Not for the first time he thanks his past self for investing in this revolutionary tech called plumbing. All he needs to do is turn a valve, and hot water pours right into a fixed tub in the corner of his large, open room. 

For a long moment he yanks at the valve, not understanding why it’s not working- ah. He’s turning it the wrong way. He blinks forcibly and twists the right way, and water pours out. He watches it drain until it registers that he should plug the tub. 

Oh, the headache he’s going to have when he wakes up…

Howdy strips as he makes his way back over to Wormie, leaving unsalvageable clothing items strewn about. It’s a blessing in disguise that he was drenched by the rain - it kept all of the blood from drying, so his shirt and pants come off easily instead of sticking to his skin. He’s still stained red underneath them. Howdy undoes his ponytail and picks up Wormie. He carefully loosens her harness and slides it off, revealing a patch of spring blue and green bands underneath. 

He holds her to his chest as he steps into the filling tub. Steam rises off of it, and it clears his stuffed sinuses. He inhales it grateful and sinks into the water, clenching his teeth when it laps over the punctures in his thigh. He closes the valve and settles with a groan.

Wormie peeps at him and looks over the side of his hand at the water with longing in her big eyes. Howdy carefully lowers her until the warm water pools over his palm. Wormie finally stretches out as he rubs his thumb over her. Mud flakes and sloughs off of her, and she wriggles happily. She dunks her face and thrashes a little to properly soak herself. He gently runs a soap bar over her until she’s nearly white from the suds, and lowers her into the water so only her head floats on the surface.

Once she’s clean, Howdy grabs a small hand towel off of a nearby shelf, soaks it, and piles it on the side of the tub. He places Wormie on it and she happily starts burrowing. It occurs to him that he could look for some sort of floatation device for her, so that she could splash around to her tiny heart’s content, but just the thought is exhausting. So, a waterlogged towel it is. 

Before Howdy completely ruins the water by scrubbing more blood and mud into it, he washes his hair. The rain had already undone the ‘do, so at least he doesn’t have to scrub out the styling paste. He squeezes the water out as best as he can and slicks it back.

Watching the red caking his skin dissipate into the water is nothing short of a relief. He stops when he gets to the minor injury Barnaby left him - he can’t tell if he bled or not. If he did, it was overshadowed by Barnaby’s blood. He sits on the edge of the tub to better inspect it.

The wounds are shallow and nothing to write home about. They don’t need bandaging, though even if they did, the time for that has long since passed. Barnaby must not be dulling his claws like he usually does. Thankfully they weren’t entirely sharp, or Howdy suspects he’d have much larger holes in his thigh. Three punctures on the outside, one on the inside. Howdy opens the water valve a smidge just to wet a fresh towelette and properly clean the wounds. It would help no one to get them infected - Poppy needs to save her energy for Barnaby.

By the time he’s satisfied with his cleanliness - if he weren’t so tired, he’d have gone for a fourth round of soap - Wormie is dozing in her damp towel. He opens the drain before grabbing a fresh hand towel, this one dry. He carefully lifts Wormie out of it and wraps her in the soft fabric. Her eyes open for only a moment before she settles again, purring. 

For a long few minutes, Howdy just sits and holds her, watching her antennae twitch as she falls asleep. He absentmindedly rubs the towel, and Wormie’s purring increases as she’s dried. 

The sound of the last of the water draining pulls Howdy’s attention away from the tiny animal. He carefully gets out of the tub and puts Wormie back on the table, still wrapped up. Once again, he looks longingly at his bed. 

Howdy dries off and dresses in loose sleep pants and leaves it at that, not wanting to bother with a shirt. He rarely sleeps with one on, anyway. Too much of a hassle. He slips Wormie out of her towel and brings her downstairs, once again having to move slowly with much paid attention as to not fall with his leaden legs.

Poppy emerges from the room as Howdy reaches the ground floor. She turns and startles. “Oh! Howdy, you startled me. You look much better… though your hair is still wet - you’ll catch a cold if you leave it like that.”

Is it? Howdy brushes his fingertips over cold strands plastered to his neck. Oops. 

“Are you alright? You look quite unsteady…” Poppy comes over to him and squawks softly, her neck pulling back. “Is that alcohol? Howdy, are you drunk?”

Howdy shrugs one shoulder. Talking takes focus and time, but he manages, “I may be a little tipsy. No worries.”

“Many worries, dear.” 

“How is he?” Howdy deflects as he walks past her, partially leaning against the wall. He nudges open the door and rests against the doorframe. The blankets cast over the small room’s bed rise and fall in stark contrast to how shallow Barnaby was breathing earlier. 

“On the mend,” Poppy murmurs, following him inside. He slumps into the armchair already pulled up to the bed. “He might sleep for some time… he’s been through quite an ordeal. Anyone would be tired after so much healing, let alone after… well.”

Howdy carefully places Wormie on Barnaby’s neck. She stirs, and starts forcibly purring as soon as she registers the shade of blue underneath her. She doesn’t perform her usual party-seizure like she usually does when seeing Barnaby - she just burrows into his fur. Howdy has to wonder if she’s simply exhausted, or if she can tell that something is wrong. 

“I don’t believe we’ll encounter any complications with his health, thank goodness” Poppy says. “By my estimates, he should be up and moving within the week. I’d like him to remain on bedrest for a few days more than strictly necessary, but I doubt he’ll want to stay put.”

If Howdy weren’t so worn out, he’d tear up yet again. 

Of course he won’t stay. Barnaby will charge out the door as soon as he’s able, hellbent as he is on finding Wally. No one can blame him. The others will likely continue the search tomorrow, if not the next day. All Howdy can hope is they find something promising for Barnaby to wake up to.

He crosses his upper arms on the bed and pillows his head on them. He fights to keep his eyelids open, watching Barnaby’s peaceful face. He looks calm, his features holding no hint of pain. A warm weight drapes over Howdy. 

He starts to lift his head, but Poppy says, “It’s just a blanket. Rest, Howdy, you need it. Barnaby will be here when you wake up.”

Howdy means to thank her, but the word comes out as a weary sigh. He lets his eyes slide shut, and slips into deep sleep a second later.

[kingsmoot]

i'm stealing the asoiaf ask meme from here and only answering the ones i wanna do

1. Favorite Great House

BOLTON ❤️🩷⚔️

2. Favorite sigil/house words

Bolton flayed man / Greyjoy kraken of the main greathouses but House Horpe fucks the hardest

i don't like the house but Baratheon's "Ours is the Fury" FUCKS. also partial to Targaryen "Fire and Blood" for the mad max association. Stark "Winter is Coming" i have a permanent affection for bc i so clearly remember the feeling as a kid of reading it for the first time and thinking "that makes no sense??" and then reading the rest of the book and coming to understand those words very well.

3. Which book or character did you not like at first but eventually grew on you?

i straight up hated Jaime when i first read the series could not STAND his ass. hated him and Brienne getting together. hated him with Cersei. he is now one of my fav characters and these are teo of my fav relationships.

4. A quote so good it makes you crazy

5. Favorite bastard

WAMS

6. Who are you traveling the ravaged Riverlands with?

BRIENNE, PLEASE!!!

7. Favorite sibling dynamic

theon + asha but because i want them to have sex. i've been bothering my friend wormy for a week with my asha's rehabilitatibe rape kink pitch.

favorite siblings who i don't want to have sex are jon and arya.

8. Favorite theme

hard to pick but if i had to pick one i love how often beautiful characters who base their sense of self on their beauty and were known for it recognized for it and defined by it often get gruesomely mauled in ways that leave them visibly physically disabled and then they have to pick up the pieces and start figuring out who they are WITHOUT youth and beauty and vigor. i love this theme bc real life is also like this in basically all cases... it's just less of an all at once due to catastrophic intervention thing and more of a time taking its course thing as we all age into disability and out of beauty.

9. A mystery you need solved NOW

who is the mystery assassin haunting winterfell bc it can't be any of the named characters who we have established as already there so. like. lyanna rising from the crypts????

10. A theory you’ve adopted as canon

this is not a theory it is just my own personal head canon that is disproved very easily by canon but idc: that the miller's wife of acorn waters and the miller's wife of weeping waters are the same person. she moved to a nicer neighborhood with a better school district after she got remarried idk. these are my beliefs.

11. A theory you pray never comes true

i have accepted that jon/dany will become canon and i am so fucking mad dude about it, dude i'm lighting candles every day to ward it off

12. A moment that made you cry

"Sister. See? I knew you this time." rips me to shreds every single time without fail also cersei purposefully hurting taena when they have sex and thinking "this doesn't feel good. why would men do this to me if it doesn't feel good?" also jeyne crying that she'll do whatever ramsay wants even with the dog also theon telling us that helicent is a good dog that it was hard to remember sometimes but that they were all good dogs

13. A character so queer-coded you’d argue it to GRRM’s face

THEON AND ASHA. SORRY. THE FACT THAT HE HAS SAID THAT THEY ARE BOTH COMPLETELY STRAIGHT IS INSANE. LIKE THIS IS THE MAN WHO "DIDN'T KNOW" THAT THE RAINBOW CLOAKS OF RENLY'S GUARD COULD REFERENCE THE PRIDE FLAG. HEAD IN HANDS. THESE ARE GAY PEOPLE.

14. A ship that gives you the absolute ick

sansan i will defeat you if it's the last thing i do

15. Favorite “problematic” ship

thramsay, theonasha, and throose

16. Favorite canon ship

thramsay and jaime/brienne

17. If you write fic, is there a ship or au you would like to write for, but haven’t yet?

my two little asoiaf ficlets are both wip rn but soon i hope they will be published. they're throose + thramsay. i should write a theonasha one too actually. adds to list.

18. A POV character you wish wasn’t

QUENTYN AND DAVOS. ENOOOOUUUUGGGHHHHHH. I'VE HAD ENOOOOOUUUUGGGHHH.

19. Who would you elevate to a POV character?

she knows too much i think for it to work but my kingdom for a Barbrey chapter

20. A fancast you absolutely can’t stand

every little blue eyed elven 5'8" twink you guys keep digging up for your ramsay fancasts i saw someone suggest BARRY KEOGHAN?????????????????? LET'S BE SERIOUS

21. A fancast that just IS a character

https://.kingmoot tumblr.com/tagged/fancast tag

also i must say li'l jakey from hotd IS lich rally jon snow... a li'l too pretty but like SUCH a strong vibe.... i agree w the general consensus that he would be a gr8 lord commander

22. What’s something you wish GRRM handled better? (a character/theme/world building etc)

george has a lot of flaws that people project onto him which are not actual problems in his books. such as women lacking depth or him not understanding math. these have become memes at this point but they are both untrue.

he is, however, embarrassingly racist in his portrayal of the dothraki, of all the people of the free cities and slaver's bay, and of summer islanders

his characters of color are often if not always silent, under or undeveloped, and hypersexualized. his response to criticism of dany as a white savior being "well slavery in the free cities is like it was in the roman empire, which was not based on race" is hard to take seriously when all of the unsullied are ambiguously brown.

i think the racism in the main series is underdiscussed in favor of people talking about glaring problems in the HBOGOT show that are not present at all in the books.

23. An event/era in TWOIAF that you would love to see a film/tv adaptation of

I WANT A FULL BOLTON FAMILY TREE BACK TO THE AGE OF HEROS AND I WANT A HOTD SHOW ABOUT THE OLD KINGS IN THE NORTH FROM WHEN THE RED KING OF HOUSE BOLTON BENT THE KNEE TO HOUSE STARK RAUGH

24. Is there a house would you fit in with based off your own looks? A house you would fit in with based off your personality/ideals/vibes etc?

DIS IS SUCH A CUTE QUESTION I LOVE IT. i had jet black hair until recently and blue eyes so i would be a baratheon. w my current mousy brown i guess i'm somewhere between a stark and a tully? my hair is not auburn but it is a warm brown. but spiritually it will be bottle black forever so. ours is the fury!!

25. Your Drunk History topic (a character/theory/event/etc)

my poor dear beloved friend alex has been listening to me talk incesantly about roose ramsay and theon for like two years now. and i've been dead sober the whole time and I'm still finding more to say.

26. Be honest, are you still waiting for TWOW

SUMMER 2024 BABY IT WILL HAPPEN. IT WILL. I STILL BELIEVE!!! I STILL BELIEEEEEEVE!!!

[e-of-west-glendia]

Wishful Thinking (Part 2)

(Because for some reason a lot of people loved part 1?! Here’s Part 1 & Part 3)

******

“You look like hell.”

Remus looked up from his book at the source of the voice. Lily was standing over him, arm propped casually against the tree he was leaning on, bag slung over her shoulder.

Remus snorted in agreement. “I feel like it, too. Move over, Lils. You’re blocking my light.”

Lily raised an eyebrow, casting a glance at the sun behind her, and then she looked back down to Remus who raised his book a bit. Gesturing at the shadow that now rested over the pages.

Lily dropped her bag on to the grass beside Remus and then sat down herself, leaning back against it.

“So what was it this time?” Lily asked.

“My Mum was sick. Looks like I caught a bit of whatever she had.” Remus said, flipping a page in his book.

Lily peaked over at him and a pang of concern shot through her for her friend. She could see the pain Remus was in. His stiff, stilted movements and slow breathing making her wince. He was always like this after he came back from home. Tired and beaten down. Even turning the pages of his book seemed to be uncomfortable.

She found herself wondering what type of illnesses his mother contracted. Surely they should take her to a hospital if they were that bad?

Lily propped herself up on her elbows, stealing a sideways look over at the book Remus was reading. She frowned, the page was the same as when she’d first arrived. Remus was staring blankly down at the book, eyes slightly unfocused and mind wandering.

Lily snapped her fingers under his nose, causing Remus to jump and give her a reproachful look. “You alright, there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Remus said, still glaring at her.

Lily’s eyes narrowed. He was most decidedly not fine. Whatever he was thinking about, it wasn’t the book and it seemed to be bothering him.

She reached over and placed her hand across the pages, poking him in the side with her other hand.

“No, you’re not fine. You’ve been staring at the same two pages for the past ten minutes. It doesn’t take a lot to see that somethings wrong.”

Remus stared at her, considering not saying anything. Then he sighed.

“I came out to Sirius last night.”

Lily drew back and sucked in a breath, pulling herself into a seated position.

“Shit. How’d he take it? Well, I hope. Otherwise he’d be one hell of a hypocrite.”

Remus snickered. “He took it fine, just a bit shocked I guess.”

Lily snorted. “I don’t see how. You haven’t exactly been inconspicuous about it.”

Remus’ eyes narrowed, he snapped the book shut and whacked her with it. Lily scooted further back, raising her arms in mock surrender.

“What! It’s true! The only person who can’t tell that you’re into Sirius Black, is Sirius Black.”

“I should hope not,” Remus grumbled. “Might complicate a few things if he did.”

Lily let out a long suffering sigh. They’d had this conversation before and she knew exactly how it would end; with Remus denying that Sirius would ever like him. She loved him to death but sometimes he really was dumber than a rock.

“Well you’ll never know unless you ask.”

Remus laughed, dry and sarcastic. “And when was the last time you asked someone out Lily?”

Lily scowled at him. “Rude.”

“I’m not wrong, though,” Remus said with a shrug. He looked over at Lily, her arms were folded across her chest, scowl still present.

Remus sighed. “Look, even if there was a chance— and I’m not saying that there is — that we could end up together I don’t want to mess with our friendship.” Remus ran a hand through his hair, eyes dropping to his lap.

“I can’t be the one to fuck up our friend group, Lily. I just can’t,” he said softly.

He looked back up at Lily, her features had softened and her green eyes were crinkled slightly at the corners. Lily reached out and grabbed Remus’ hand, squeezing it slightly and smiling at him.

“I know and you won’t. No matter what happens between you guys, you’ll always still have each other. I might not be fond of your idiot friends but I do know that deep down— very deep down, they’re good people. Loyalty is everything to those morons, they wouldn’t trade your guy’s friendship for the world.”

“Thanks, Lily.”

“Of course.”

A soft breeze floated through the air, making strands of Lily’s hair fly around her face. Next to her a small patch of dandelion seeds floated off into the wind. Lily picked one, handing it over to Remus who looked at her in confusion.

“Yeah, no. I’m allergic to those things,” Remus said.

Lily groaned and shoved the flower into Remus’ lap anyways.

“Blow on it. They’re supposed to grant wishes.”

Remus laughed. “That’s the biggest load of garbage I’ve ever heard.”

Lily shrugged, she didn’t particularly care. Picking another dandelion for herself she said, “Can’t hurt time try can it?” She blew on the fluffy seeds, the two of them watching them scatter into the wind. Remus watched them for a second before picking up his own.

“No, I guess not,” and he sent the seeds scattering into the wind.

**********

James stared intently down at the chess board in front of him, his hand hovering above the pieces. He needed to make a move. He could of course move the Knight to E5. Then he would be able to take Sirius’ bishop. But if he did that then his bishop could be taken by a pawn in a couple of moves.

James sighed, he didn’t really have very many options. “Knight E5,” he said finally. Resolving to make up for the inevitable loss of his by taking Sirius’ rook. The Knight moved across the board of its own accord, settling on one of the white squares on the far left.

James stole a glance at Sirius, expecting to see him silently plotting his demise. Instead, Sirius wasn’t even looking at the chess board, he wasn’t looking anywhere near the table, actually.

He was staring blankly out of one of the common room windows, twirling his wand back and forth across his fingers.

“Sirius.”

Sirius looked up, he seemed mildly startled by his surroundings. “Hmm?”

James raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s your turn.”

“Oh. Right.” Sirius leaned over the board, eyes scanning the game, his mind was elsewhere, though.

James groaned, and moved the game off the table. Sirius blinked in surprise.

“Just tell me what’s the matter with you, already,” James said. “You’re making the whole game boring.”

Sirius sat back in his chair. “Nothings wrong, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” James said irritably. “You’ve been off since you and Remus came back to the dorm last night— yes I saw you come back in,” He rolled his eyes at the shocked look on Sirius’ face. Then, something snapped into place.

“It’s Remus, isn’t it?” James asked slowly. “He told you he’s bi?”

If Sirius was shocked a second ago, he was absolutely floored now. “How on earth did you know that.”

James shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out, Remus wasn’t exactly inconspicuous about it. And you have absolutely no subtlety whatsoever. The real question is how did you not know?”

Sirius wasn’t sure if he should be impressed by how quickly James figured it out or offended by the comment about his lack of subtlety. He decided that both worked.

“Well maybe it just isn’t as obvious to you as it is to everyone else.”

“Oh it is,” James said, shaking his head. “Trust me.”

Sirius sighed, looping a strand of his hair around his index finger. “He started going on about some guy he’s liked for a while. The man sounds like a bloody moron, apparently he doesn’t like Remus back.”

James laughed loudly, reclining back in his chair. “Merlin, you really are a moron.”

Sirius glared at his best friend, who was still chuckling. “Am I missing something.”

“Yes,” James said, choking on the last of his laughter. “You really are.”

“Care to elaborate?”

James shook his head. “Nah, it’d be better if you figure it out on your own. Besides, Wormy and I have a bet and I’m not willing to risk 20 galleons to enlighten you.”

Sirius threw one of the cushions on the chair at James. “Arse.”

James caught it with ease and dropped it onto the floor. “You’ll thank me later.”

Sirius rolled his eyes at him, whatever it was he was pretty sure he wouldn’t thank him later for it. More than likely it was another prank, although why he didn’t know about it was a bit confusing.

A light breeze floated through the window, causing James to shiver.

“Close the window, would you,” he asked.

“Why don’t you close it yourself,” Sirius asked, already on his way to do just that.

He wrapped his fingers around the handle, prepared to close it when a flash of red caught his eye. From the common room he could see Lily and Remus sitting in the grass. Sirius watched as Lily shoved Remus, who was laughing at something she’d said. She was picking up fistfuls of grass and launching them at Remus and he used a book to shield himself.

“What’s taking you so long?” James asked, joining Sirius at the window. He followed Sirius’ gaze and laughed a bit.

Another gust of wind blew through the air, dropping a small fluffy seed into Sirius’ hair. James gently picked it out.

“What is it?” Sirius looked curiously at the small seed pinched between James’ fingers.

“A dandelion seed. Make a wish.”

Sirius gave him a funny look. “Why?”

James shrugged. “I dunno, someone once told me that dandelions grant wishes.”

“It was Lily, wasn’t it?”

James shrugged, again. “Does ur really matter? Besides, what’ve you got to lose?”

Sirius extended his hand and James dropped the seed into his palm.

“Nothing,” Sirius said, staring at the seed. “Absolutely nothing.”

Then he closed his eyes and cast the seed off into the wind.

*****

(There’s going to be one more part that I’ll probably write tomorrow buuttt we’ll see)

[buckybarnesbingo]

BBB Week 8 Roundup!  

Some amazing fills made this week, go forth and appreciate our creators!

Title: Flower Petals Collaborator: writing-what-writing Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K5 - Hanahaki disease Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Gen Major Tags: very light angst Summary: Bucky’s been coughing up flowers and the only cure is if you love him back Word Count: 863

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Title:  I’d Do It Again Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U2 - Queer Platonic Relationship Ship: Bucky/Bruce Rating: Teen Major Tags: mention of torture, mild violence and threat Summary: After he is kidnapped, Bucky rescues Bruce from a facility which is trying to separate him from the Hulk. Word Count: 1620

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Title: As the Spirits Guide Us Collaborator: 27dragons Link: AO3 Squares Filled: Chapter 3 - K1: Poison Chapter 4 - K2: Dark Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alternate Universe - Prehistoric, Running Away, Spirit Animals, totem spirits, Coming of Age, Sharing a Meal, Sex, Frottage Summary: The Clan of the Hydra value’s Bucky’s skill as a flintknapper but despises him for being a crippled outsider. The Clanchief, in particular, seems to enjoy watching Bucky suffer. Bucky dreams of escaping, of finding a home with a new Clan, one which will treat him kindly. A talented maker and only child of the Keeper of the Way, Tony has only to complete this last rite before he can fully assume his place as an adult of the Star Clan. On this journey, the spirit-talker assures him, the spirits will bring him to meet his destined mate. Tony is pretty sure the selection of his mate has less to do with the spirits than with the machinations of his mother and the clan chief. Little do either of them know what the spirits have in store. Word Count: 5713

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Title: A sketch in red Collaborator: Nivelle Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y4 - Seeing Red Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art  Summary: art

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Title: A Night at the Nat - Chapter 4 Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - apology Ship: Bucky/Clint/Tony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: werewolf & supernatural AU, minor injuries/blood, eventual smut Summary: The fancy restaurant isn’t the only reason Clint feels out of his depth. Even though his dinner companions are clearly devoted to one another, they keep flirting with him. Maybe accepting this invitation wasn’t such a good idea. Word Count: 4701

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Title: Fire in My Soul - Chapter 1 Collaborator: squadrickchestopher Link: AO3 Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Explicit Major Tags: graphic depictions of violence Summary: Natasha interrupts him. “So here’s what happened,” she says, letting her irritation bleed into her voice and her expression. Clint ducks his head even lower. “You two morons got the bright idea to get busy on a magic altar while wearing a magic amulet. Somehow, this triggered some kind of spell, and—I can’t believe this is an actual thing I’m about to say—it turned you both into little dragons.” Bucky stares at Clint, then looks down at his own claws. Then he looks back up at Nat. “What the fuck?” Word Count: 5442

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Title: Art Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y1 - nerd Bucky Ship: Bucky & Peter Rating: Gen Major Tags: art  Summary: Bucky had always loved science fiction. He loved to get lost in the wonder of what was possible and consider how the future could be better. When he joined the Avengers, Peter soon learned of Bucky’s interest and immediately got him started on every major sci-fi franchise he had missed over the years. Star Wars ended up being his favourite and when Peter came in brandishing his new, fully functioning lightsaber Bucky couldn’t resist having a go with the weapon. That quickly lead to costumes and a fully fledged photo shoot to commemorate the occasion. 

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Title: Red Carpet Rescue Mission Collaborator: darter_blue Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Rescue Mission Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: meet cute Summary: Bucky Barnes can totally do this, he can fumble his way through a red carpet event and not lose his brand new nationally televised lifestyle presenter gig... he just has to remember to ask questions about the premier and NOT composting (being that he is, in fact, a Gardener and not an entertainment reporter). And when he sees a fellow sufferer in need of saving from all the lights, cameras, and hubbub, of course he's going to sidle over and be a friendly face. Except the poor, unfashionable gentleman perhaps isn't a ring in like Bucky imagined, is perhaps more famous than he looks?Is perhaps actually a real life superhero? This is just fluff and more fluff of disaster Bucky and an always charmed Captain America... Word Count: 5328

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Title: Arboreal: Songbird protocol moodboard Collaborator: menatiera Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B4 - Sunrise/Sunset Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Fluff, Bucky Barnes Needs A Hug, (Arm Maintenance), moodboard Summary: Moodboard for the fic Songbird Protocol by Arboreal. Fic summary: Tony apparently has a thing for musicians. It’s brand new information for him, but Bucky is irresistible.

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Title: we could take a chance, we could make it Collaborator: velvetjinx Link: AO3 Square Filled: K4 -  partner in crime Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: historical AU Summary: Bucky likes to steal treasure. Steve likes to steal it back for its rightful owners. But when they have to team up to fight a common enemy and sparks fly, will either of them be willing to risk their hearts? Word Count: 5385

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Title: When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it) - Chapter 2 Collaborator: riotfalling Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: non-graphic injury and violence Summary: There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch. And one tiny little bed. (Now with chapter 2, because no bed sharing fic is truly complete until they’re home.) Word Count: 2.5k

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Title: Inspired By You Collaborator: MagicaDraconia16 Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y5 - Invisibility Ship: Teen Rating: Bucky & Tony Major Tags: AU artist/muse, smutty inspiration Summary: It was very hard work being a muse. Especially when the person being inspired absolutely refuses to be around the source of that inspiration. Word Count: 1004

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Title: A Quiet Moment Collaborator: Caiti (Caitriona_3) Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Hair braiding Ship: Bucky/Clint/Darcy Rating: Teen Major Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Polyamory Summary: Natasha and Bucky spend a quiet moment together. Word Count: 1561

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Title: Funerals Are Expensive. Get Well Soon. Collaborator: Ribbonsflying Link: AO3 Square Filled: C5 - Sharing Body Heat Ship: Stucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: funeral home, morticians Summary: “Is this the part where we turn from morticians into ghost hunters?” Sam asked as they flipped out the basement lights and locked the door back behind them. ”I sure hope not.” The men began their hustle back up toward the state rooms out front when they passed the cooler and heard the noise again. Steve and Sam both stopped in their tracks. “Is that-“ Steve turned on his heel and pointed toward the refrigerated room where people’s bodies were stored.“You know I ain’t ever been scared of dead people,” Sam answered, “...but if someone in that fridge is knocking, all you’re gonna see of my brown ass is a pinprick on the horizon as I get the hell away from here as fast as I can move.” === Did you know there's a woman who has a medical condition that has caused her to go to wake up in a morgue on three separate occasions? This is a story where Bucky has that same condition. Word Count: 7382

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Title: Beetles Collaborator: Justamanlymouse Link: AO3 Square Filled: U5 - Bucky/Steve Ship: Stucky, WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Howlie memories, Light angst, tw bugs Summary: Steve hears Morgan singing a lullaby that James used to sing to him and remembers the last time he heard it.“You know the wormy song? James sings it to me before bed.” He’s going to fucking vomit. “Oh yeah?” he manages. “Yeah.” she says, molding dirt very seriously with a little spade, “Said he used to sing it to you and it helped you go to sleep. You remember that?” Word Count: 721

[reticexce]

 yoooooOOOOOOO you all have no idea how grateful i am to reach this milestone. this blog was a reboot of alison, and i was really worried that i wouldn’t be able to play her like before since i was basically starting from scratch again, but i’m really glad to see that she ( and the boys!! ) have been accepted and loved, and i’m so happy i’ve gotten the chance to create meaningful relationships both ic and ooc! 

i’ve never actually done a bias list before despite how many years i’ve been rping on tumblr, but i think it’s about time i make one since i think this blog is one of my best experiences in terms of shipping, friendships, and threading and i really should just make a shoutout to some very special people and say thank you to everyone for sticking with this blog and helping me flesh out my muses!

( MY PINGU CHILDREN )

mostly an inside joke formed in a skype chat ( tbt nerdie wormies lmaoo ) , but there’s a reason why they’re my pingu children and i’m pingu mum!

@kingofevcrything: hoooly shit can you believe we’ve known each other for like four years? practically four years?? since my first year having alison, emile and cedric?? and i’m pretty sure you had a part in me adding nate to the blog too, seeing as how his only ship is your muse lmao. i really can’t say enough about you because i think you’re just so special to me, and i hold you so near and dear to my heart. i can’t express how thrilled and grateful i am to have you still be my friend after all these years. i’ve had rp partners leave and it’s always heartbreaking especially when memorable relationships have been formed. but our friendship has passed the test of time, and i hope, hope, hope with all my might that we’ll stay friends for many more years to come, even if one of us decides to stop rping. i really can’t express how important our friendship is to me, like you really have no idea. my soul weeps for our muses and our threads. i just love you lots and i always wish for good things to happen to you, and i am so glad to be your mum. i am so thankful for our friendship, and i still really can’t believe we have so many fucking aus like holy shit wtf <33

@halsionic: my bby pingu child <3 we also have a shit ton of aus lmao and i also treasure those even if we’ve only touched on them in chat and never in thread. i also can’t express how thankful i am to have met you. pure chance had us meet, and i’m just so happy that you reached out to me. i can’t imagine us still being strangers on the dash, our muses so foreign to each other. like, alien literally coNSUMES both of us now, and it’s just so taboo to imagine otherwise. i love you to bits, especially since you’ve always been so supportive to me no matter what i’m going through. i can always count on you to help me through hard times, even if it’s just a short conversation about what’s bothering me. but i appreciate everything you’ve done for me as a listening ear. and not to mention those shitposts you send to me every day too---our friendship wouldn’t be complete without good ole shitposting and sIN. smooches from pingu mum to pingu child!! i look forward to screaming about our feelings to each other in the future!

( MY SOARING EAGLES )

those whom i also consider dear friends on this site ooc ( but we don’t have a pingu family thing going on haha )

@gloryundimmed: aaaaAAAAAA G R A Y oh my god you’re gonna laugh at me but i was really scared of interacting with you at first. like, i was so happy you liked my starter call?? because that made it super easy for us to interact?? i was really worried that we’d end up being those blogs that follow each other but never interact buT NO WAY WE TOTALLY INTERACT NOW!! and i have so much fun rping with you holy shit i really do. i get real excited whenever you reply or answer my asks ( no matter how long it’s been; you can always take your time! ) because i just adore kai and alison like---i didn’t think their ship would be so wholesome but it totally is. and i love it. i also never thought we’d be such good friends, especially since we haven’t known each other for very long, but i’m super, duper, happy that we are. like our conversations are always so interesting and non stressful, and i’m just really happy that i’ve gotten the opportunity to befriend you and thread with you! also, i think your editing and themes are hella rad. also!! i’m really looking forward to more aus with you in the future if you’re up for it, and also ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) if you’re up for it too with kai and ali ( yes i totally used this as an excuse to put in a lenny face but i also meant what i said lmaoo broADEN MY WRITING HORIZONS ). anyway!! i’m glad to have you as a friend, i love your writing, and i would totally be down for interactions with your others muses too because i think they’re also great! 

@wintercursed​: i absolutely adore alison and hiro’s dynamic, and i guess in a way you could say it’s sort of our dynamic too. not exactly, not perfectly, but i suppose a little piece of ourselves could be seen in our muses. ahh, i wish i could shower you in all the memes and threads you’ve ever wanted, but alas, i’m too distracted and my muses are too fickle for such a thing. but i really do love talking about our muses together and just having fun like that; the brotp between alison and hiro is one of my favorites tbh. i also!! am really flattered you see me as a friend. i’m so glad i get to call you one of mine! i get so happy whenever things go well for you, and i hope things will keep going well for you!! we may have lost touch in the last few months ( year? has it been a year? i hope not ), but i still admire you and your muse as much as i did before. fun fact: i actually followed you even before this blog! but that was before i really got a chance to interact and talk with you haha. anywho, i hope the best for you, and let’s stay in touch! <3

@travaileur / @dulcetxdreams: ro!!! ro, ro, ro, ro!!!! man i can’t even put my finger down on how we met. i guess it started on aito’s blog with the chatzys and then it moved to here when ali and eden were struggling to figure out their feelings? and you were one of their fans haha. that was a very eventful time. and now, look at where our bbies are now! claire and alison have developed their own friendship, and it is literally goals. alison is just so good to claire, and i cry it’s just so cute. our interactions have been limited with both of us being busy bees, and that’s okay! i look forward to seeing ali and claire together no matter what, and i’d love to keep talking about them more whenever you’re free! also, i always appreciate those cat pictures your send me or those bird photos you tag me in. bless, bless, those always make my day. anywho, you’re a sweetie pie and i lov u lots and i’m so happy i got the chance to meet you and have my muse have such a cute friendship with your muse. i can’t wait to see how that will develop!

@textsfromeponinet / @evangrantconrad / @whocaresaboutlonelysouls: i’m fairly certain you followed me from blog to blog! from my old alison blog to this one, i’m so glad that you decided to stick around even through the big switch. i’ve had lots of fun playing all of my muses with you, from your eponine blog and beyond! you helped me flesh out cedric in a way too, giving rise to his pretentious character now thanks to our beauty and the beast au haha. i really have to thank you for that! and now, with emile, we have such a sweet ship, and i’m looking forward to all of the cuteness that awaits! you’re such a good friend to me too, even though i stink at replying to ims, so i’m really thankful you haven’t been deterred from chatting with me. you’ve also given me such nice advice over the years, and i’m very, very thankful for your college advice <3 i hope we can remain friends and have more threads!

@ivorybled / @hyoukan: i think about how we met sometimes and like---it’s such a unique way of meeting?? like our muses both lil shits and therefore would attract each other because they would love doing shitty things together, and that blossomed into one of my favorite brotps. lanzo and aito will always be my shit because they’re just hilarious to me, and add in eden and it’s even more of a mess. but this isn’t a bias list for aito’s blog so i’ll save that fangirling for another time, but !!! i love?? your writing?? so much??? it’s a very unique style and oh my god it’s like fking poetry and i can just indulge in your writing like it’s just so good. and speaking of what’s good, you’re good!!! we haven’t talked much recently, but i’m so flattered to be one of your fave boofs bc you’re one of mine too!!! technically you’re a bird now but that’s even better because you love birds!! i always have such a fun time talking with you on ims even if it’s just a short chat, whether it’s lanzo/aito, lanzo/alison, or eru/alison because the ideas are literally limitless with you. and it’s such a blast to yell at each other about our muses and their relationship; i can feel your passion and that’s just really great okay. i hope we can keep yelling at each other and keep in touch even if we’re both busy bees, and i’m really glad we became friends <3

( MY PRETTY CANARIES )

those whom i’ve interacted with a few times ( whether recently or a long, long time ago ) and would love to stay in touch, get back in touch, get to know better! these people are also those who i see on the dash every day and sort of consider them my friends because of how long you’ve stuck with me, even i we haven’t said much to each other! but i see you liking and reblogging my stuff! hello to you too! 

@cfdualities / @mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur / @chichini / @silent-severity / @shiracpt / @lvmier / @vernxte / @noxuous / @gumihosverdict / @langvor / @tommy-is-the-rudest-bitch / @fornaxa / @manipulationandmemes / @princely-etiquette / @smolhoney / @shite-prosecutor / @amxrtentiia / @overoutrage / @forgottenelysium / @auccntraire / @smolbabysittingangel / @pushingthewinter / @omnecosmos / @neverforgiiven / @psuedogaiety / @likecottxncandy / @lachalaine / @nanpoghan / @bastardiised / @oshunokaminari / @dont-wake-sana / @enthrxlling / @faillte / @haperx / @we-all-burn / @togovernwithdecorum / @chvssbelle / @ffortunato / @minugahanax​ / @risiox / @solepaura

( MY SWEET PARAKEETS )

those whom i haven’t gotten a chance to really interact with yet ( due to busy schedules, lack of a good opportunity, being a new follower, or just me being too shy ) but admire greatly and would love a chance to write with! we may have had a handful of short interactions before, or maybe none at all, but in either case, i’d love to have more!

@stckhlmr / @godstarved / @condicionibus / @hippestbarista / @mulni / @weismanniisms / @contrasting-blood-brothers / @phlegmxtical / @charmingrebel / @cantiio / @fierydog / @perhiemate / @bathed-in-red / @parcelhoarder / @poppicede / @wondcrkid / @bloodyrogues / @cruthaich / @nightmcnsters / @bokctto / @destinsia / @elfen-archer / @pvrehearted / @corvialitis / @sakashiima / @starvd / @itaidoshin / @praeliix / @rosideae / @xnquisitor / @mahounx / @clemenstine / @siderion / @tenxcious / @drugrattes / @prideful-outcasts / @withoutviolence / @preciousyellowidiot / @atelouus / @flowersvein / @merakiis / @bcbybats / @ignirae / @popokki / @lingering-mind / @bitchidivine / @cxriseanglo / @torschlusspcnik / @chirisaku / @eraseourscars / @tillsoil / @bittersilvertruth / @hellhcunded / @hasetsui​

keep in mind none of the names are in any particular order! and ahh and i know i must have forgotten some people because there were just so many blogs to look through, but even if you aren’t on this list, you’re a great writer, very special, and have lots of potential! and i love you and think you’re great! and to those who are on this list, i know i must have sounded really roundabout and probably said the same things over and over again, but really, you guys make coming onto tumblr really fun, and you all are really special people to me. i really appreciate you all for sticking with me after all this time ( and even following me from blog to blog! ) and i just can’t say how much i appreciate your support <333 

also i sort of did have trouble determining if some people were canaries or parakeets but whichever one you are, feel free to hmu for interactions but i love new partners and new ideas and just meeting new people so please reach out if you’d like to! (〃＾▽＾〃)

ps do u guys like the little birbs i added to my promo bc i really do. 

[ratthewrodent]

This fuck up has been set up perfectly for disaster over the past few months and is continuing to destroy my life. This is a long one, but every detail counts in portraying one of the worst weeks of my life.Let me preface this by saying I love my cat more than anything, and while he is currently not sleeping anywhere near me, he's still getting a lot of cautious love. I can't imagine being self-isolated alone without him right now. Truly, I love him too much - too much love got us here today.In January, I adopted an 11 yo, 19 lbs chonker. I fell in love instantly. His last family returned him after 6 months with a bad case of fleas. He had been defleaed but came home with a slew of other health issues. By end of January after a lot of vet visits, he seemed to be on the mend. I knew what I was signing up for when I adopted a senior cat, but just didn't realize the endless possibilities. Truly, I tell him every night before bed he's my ride or die, and that's about to be tested with this saga of the greatest love story ever told.Early February, he starts coughing and stops pooping in his litterbox, despite me cleaning it daily. He's still peeing in there, but seems cautious and runs out immediately. Even when he started pooping on the floor (thank God for wood floors), he'd run under my bed from it. That was the only time he'd go under my bed, otherwise he was cuddled up on or next to me. His medical chart from when I adopted him said he had issues with litterbox pooping- they suspected he was afraid of his last family's other cat and it was behavioral, but something didn't add up. He was fine with pooping in the litterbox for the first month after his kitty enema. I cleaned up his poop every other day and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He was starting to lose weight, which was good because as cute of a chonker as he is, it's NOT healthy, folks. I stopped free feeding him, started feeding him scheduled wet food meals, and we had daily playtime to get him to a healthy weight.I bring him into the vet in February for the 6th time in a month and a half. He had half of his teeth removed before I adopted him. This resulted in an incision infection and an enema due to opiod constipation. This visit was for his cough. I even ask if he could have worms. The vet tells me, "I know you're trying to be a good pet owner, but he likely has allergies and it's a behavioral issue. This might be something he has to live with. Come see me if his mucus turns brown". I had been right about every single Dr. Google diagnosis up until this point, but whatever. I buy an air purifier, vacuum and clean regularly, change the bedding weekly- I already have an obsessive cleaning schedule, and COVID/quarantine has only allowed that the time to thrive. Ask any of my previous roommates and I am the cleanest person you'll ever live with. Despite the cleaning, some coughing days were better than others.All of a sudden end of last week, he starts coughing a lot less, and I start feeling like absolute shit. My best friend even makes a joke that I caught whatever my cat had. Sick, sick foreshadowing.When I read the article about the tiger in the Bronx catching COVID19, I was convinced we both had it. My chest was tight, frequent bathroom runs, just pure exhaustion, losing weight rapidly despite being quarantined for a month in a tiny studio- malnourished to the point my hair is falling out. I'm a mess. I guess it's a good thing I got laid off 2 weeks ago, because the bathroom and I are very close friends these days.I wake up Monday morning to the pungent smell of my cat's usual poop surprise on the wood floor. He's such a kind cat to poop where it's easy cleanup. That's when I see them - worms crawling around EVERYWHERE. I'm gagging, take a little sample for the vet, and flush the rest. I Dr. Google the shit out of it and it is for SURE tapeworms. Then I read about the eggs. Let me remind you I change my sheets and wash my duvet cover weekly. I make my bed the second I get out of it and even vacuume my duvet cover. I RUN to inspect my bed- there are eggs EVERYWHERE. Little rice demons of hell that have been dropping from my poor cat's bum for 3 months. I'm dry heaving at this point. I live in an old studio apartment and my bed is against a brick wall, so I get little grout crumble patches that I have to vacuume up pretty regularly. I remember feeling little patches of what I assumed one night was grout in my sheets, but fell asleep wine drunk and ignored it. When I tell you they were everywhere, I mean they were everywhere. My pillow, under my pillow- my cat and I fall asleep cuddling every night. Again, I love this cat too damn much.I call the vet and it is undoubtedly tapeworm. We suspect he's had it since I adopted him. His prescription gets to me within a few hours. I also get flea medication and spray. I check him for flea dirt regularly and hadn't seen anything, but better to be cautious. I bag all of my bedding, throw out half of what I own, vacuum every inch of this place for an hour, I'm on the fucking floor with my flashlight and find a dead tapeworm under my couch, Swiffer, disinfect my couch, flip my mattress- like total mental breakdown. I give him his medication and his cough stops instantly. He hasn't coughed once since Monday.This has been one of my childhood phobias since I read that urban legend about the guy who starved himself then put a burger patty on his tongue and lured the tapeworm out until he could grab it from his mouth. I'm thinking about this story after giving my cat his meds when holy moly diarrhea. I look in the toilet bowl to 3 long strings floating on the sides that normally I would have flushed to sewage heaven without second thought, but they are undoubtedly tapeworms. My grown ass calls my mom and sobs while still sitting on the toilet in all of my wormy glory. I call and embarrassingly show the doctor, doctor undoubtedly tells me I too have tapeworm and writes me a prescription. He asks me if I want just tapeworm or a full deworming? I'm like wtf does that mean? He's like, "You'd be surprised how many parasites are living in you regularly. Just wait and see what you're about to poop out". I honestly just want to die at this point.My cat and I are prescribed the same medication, obviously just different doses and different pricetags. His was $13 for two doses. Mine? $130 for one dose, 2 pills. That's WITH my last month of insurance from my previous employer. I immediately receive a text that my prescription is on back order because of COVID. I'm trying to fall asleep that night on my couch without any blankets, when would you fucking guess it- my heat stops working. So now I'm just shivering on a small ass couch knowing there's worms crawling around inside of me and eggs everywhere. I don't sleep.I call the pharmacy when they open in tears asking when my meds are going to get there. Lucky me, they had just arrived. He asks me, "Did you know your prescription is $130?" I'm like, "Uh no I've never had tapeworm, but I guess the price is irrelevant". We both nervously laugh. I also haven't had an in-person human interaction in a month because I've been self isolating alone and laid off due to COVID, so this is trying on soooo many levels.I order delivery for a big ass meal from my favorite restaurant because 1. I have no appetite because the thought of feeding the worms makes me want to die and I was hoping ordering from my favorite restaurant would entice me to eat. 2. Medication has to be taken with food. 3. I realize this is the last day the calories don't matter. Might as well enjoy it.I pick up my prescription, light a candle, call my best friend, we have a little virtual funeral for my worms and try to make light of the situation. I play the song I want played at my funeral (Hamburg Song by Keane, it's beautiful). But it just keeps getting worse, y'all. My best friend hesitantly tells me he was telling his physical therapist about my worm saga. She recommended buying clove oil and rubbing it on my pink starfish. I'm like why? Apparently worms like to bite your butt on the way out, and clove oil prevents that. I hate everything at this moment. It's like the different levels of hell.I take the pills and am reading the prescription pamphlet. It notes that you'll experience random aches and pains while the worms are dying. Let me tell you- I felt every fucking worm dying as I lay blanketless on my couch in the fetal position. All of a sudden, I'm thinking about the worms and I can't breathe. My throat is kind of itchy, and I'm thinking there are worms dying in my tonsils at this point or I got COVID at the pharmacy. I'm laying there in the fetal position, telling myself it's just a panic attack. My cat decides to go pee at 2am, jumps out startled trailing pee all over the apartment. I know the medication says limit your alcoholic beverages, but I say fuck it and make a drink. I clean the pee and finally fall asleep for about 3 hours.I wake up bright and early to the smell of cat poop. Still half asleep, I searched his normal spots and couldn't find any poops. He left it in the tub for me- a new spot- thanks, cat. Easy cleanup and no worms- I take it as a win. I flush it down the toilet, bleach the tub, and obsessively wash my hands.Let me tell you- my hands are bleeding from the amount of times I wash them between COVID and wormageddon. I look at myself in the mirror while scrubbing my raw hands and holy shit. My face is is swollen to the point I'm still surprised I can see out of my eyes. My tongue is flopping all over the place. I am having a severe allergic reaction to the tapeworm medication. That panic attack while falling asleep was actually an allergic reaction.I immediately video chat my doctor, he tells me to go get Benadryl immediately and writes me a steroid prescription. I get a call from their finance department on the brief walk to the pharmacy: $140 for that 5 minute virtual visit. I try to dispute the charge- she can't do anything. I just flat out ask her: "Can I just tell you about my shitty life then for $140?". We talk for 5 minutes about how much my life sucks and she agrees. She was very nice about it, but still $140. She basically tells me that if I had waited a month to get tapeworm and almost die from the medication, the virtual visit would have been cheaper without insurance. Fucking love it and American healthcare.I cut my losses go back to the same pharmacy from the day before and they ask me what's wrong. I lift up my glasses and they were like "Ooooof- did you know you were allergic to this medication?". At this point, I'm like "WHY DO ANY OF YOU THINK I'VE HAD TAPEWORMS BEFORE?" Truly, complete mental breakdown. I buy my medication, a box of wine, and $20 worth of candy to ease the pain.So folks, here I am. Unemployed and alone during a pandemic, clenching my butt like never before, still haven't pooped because I'm terrified of worm kisses on the way out, face still swollen shut, but I'm breathing fine. My cat is a new cat, so for that? I am grateful. I am 100% sure I will have PTSD from this experience. It is going to be a long, long, time before my cat and I snuggle regularly again, but I know we'll get there and I still love him. Adopt senior pets regardless of this story, because 10/10- would still get worms again for him.Wormageddon 2020 will not soon be forgotten.TL;DR My recently adopted cat gave us both tapeworm, I almost died from the meds, and this is my hell.Edit: I'll come back and give more meaningful update, but I'm reading all of these comments over the phone, basking in the worst kind of Reddit fame with my best friend, and his smart ass says, "Your tapeworm is going to come out of your butt and ask DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?"But really, y'all are too kind. via /r/tifu

[subjectsilver]

my psyche and wormy be ruthless sometimes.

originally i told myself that i was only going to use tumblr every sunday to log what has happened throughout the week or anything noticeable or note worthy but i literally need to type this right now because I'm losing my goddamn mind and on the verge of a panic attack...i can feel my chest tightening and my heart has such a “funny” feeling that isn't so funny so idk why they call it that... its like a light feeling like when u get light headed - i feel light hearted rn

the absolute worst part about my depression is that it literally just comes and goes whenever it wants. obviously theres things that help trigger it, a song a picture of my ex friends snapchats, any object that i can play connect the dots with back to a single thought that can disrupt my entire mental.

and it hit me tonight and it hit me hard and tonight I'm trying not to run away from it. I'm not going to go smoke cigarettes and listen to music until 5 am I'm trying to just type what is going on instead of like holding it into my head. or type something at least. the thing about it is that whenever it hits me, i always find a way to make it so much worse.... like i see just the right combination of words or objects to sink me or look at pictures of emma and even though i know its hurting me i continue to do it anyway....maybe its because in that moment I'm actually feeling something, she is making me feel something just like she use to in the past. i really valued that until i became too grey and numb and hopeless.

i feel like throwing up

i used “ex” up there and  makes me feel really uneasy i haven't used it very much at all mainly because i have to explain myself to anyone here and I've only told a few people what is going on with me. That was good thought because i have a friend named hank who went through some shit too so he kind of connects with me but still not a person i would talk to about shit...i don't really have anyone for that so i don't really know... sometimes i type it all and erase it, sometimes i make songs, sometimes i say it out laid sometimes i just cry.

i started taking prozac 3 days ago this will be the fourth, so hopefully that'll help  me. Im still underweight as fuck but oddly I'm comfortable with it bc i like the way my shirts feel and clothes fit, unfortunately i need to gain like 20 pounds if i want to exist on this soccer team which is kinda mad. I was going to suggest leaving wake because i don't really even care to play soccer rn. and i realized a while back that all i needed was in ohio... like i had the best friends the girl of my dreams and i could've had a 1st year internship paying between 40-70k at some health company under my step dad... its kinda shitty because its something i wanted to tell everyone and i would always think about how disappointed my dad would be and how supportive my mom would be but something told me not do make moves with any of it. its like the universe knew i was going to go through some shit. like it knew i was gonna get low and the perfect image of life i had in my head up. like bitch u thought you'd plant roots,,,nahhhhhhtttt  

i keep listening to this song on repeat

https://soundcloud.com/yvpoipoi/maxence-cyrin-where-is-my-mind

but the real is back the ville is back

i fucking hated listening to cole until like 2 weeks ago. it was so annoying listening to cole bc of hani playing it literally all the time. when things like that get annoying they because white noise to me. but recently i went through his 3 most recent projects and actually listened heavily to the words and that shit is crazy.

i also have been paying a lot of attention to jay z and beyonce. i guess jay z had an affair or some shit and ten he and “once” went back and forth on songs about it... but i read this quote by him where he was like “our relationship was built on top of lies, and i had to tear it down and build it back up again and it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.” thats the kind of shit that gives me hope in the world of relationships. I've accepted that its probably false hope but ill hold onto anything the keeps me going at this point...

my suicidal thoughts haven't been present the last few days but i never know if and when those will come back. to be truthful I've been stacking up on things in my camera roll that give me up for when I'm feeling low.

the light hearted feeling has subsided, i just realized it. i kinda of ignore all grammatical practices when i write freely. i just go with my own language because i feel like its more personal ya know. someone i know annotates her own letters that she use to write me and i always loved that shit because i have so many side thoughts when i write as well.

luke christophers album finally came out and what do you know 5 of the songs had already been released and some like a year ago so its barely anything knew but it still has new music and bangers so i do appreciate the legend himself. after seeing his hair blonde on the cover idk if I'm going to keep growing my hair black or re-dye it. maybe ill keep it blonde until i feel like I'm above 80% better or something  right now i feel about -7% (if i could annotate that line id tell you that i originally wrote -7 person instead of percent then i autocorrected person then backspaced it to a symbol) 

the last few days I've felt really weak though and I've been sleeping a lot like two days ago i got like 11 hours and yesterday i got like 10 and I've been taking naps during the day. but I've constantly felt like I've had low blood sugar or that I've been dehydrated or something. i can't even make a fist and squeeze that hard.

its crazy because when i type anything about myself ever i just start tearing up for no reason...happy thoughts sad thoughts dark thoughts i could be writing about my microwave and be tearing up. and i do it a lot with emma or my best friends or my ex and ex best friends idk what anyone is to me anymore. been too focussed on trying to survive, which i feel is the correct selfish thing to do for once.

“don't give a fuck and they love you do give a fuck and they hate you - I'm always gone be there for you”

this man luke in onto something

its crazy that i will leave my phone in my room from 7:30 am to 7-8 at night and the only notification that ill get is “your phone hasn't been backed up in 57 weeks” or some shit like that. occasionally ill receive a random text from someone but its funny because sometimes on the inside ill be screaming like “PLEASE SOMEONE TALK TO ME” and then it happens and its like nah.. i thought i sent out an amber alert but really I'm sending out a batman bat symbol. i thought i needed anyone to talk to, but in reality i just need one singular person to talk to. that was my mistake, will always be my mistake but at least i recognize it now...just a little late there big guy.

having so much time to myself probably too much time to myself is really interesting...if you've ever thought that you've done real reflection, submerge yourself in complete loneliness and isolation and try again because its so much deeper. you think about everything. every individual relationship, every right every wrong multiple perspectives. you think about all of your problems and the root to your problems.  all of your mistakes why u caused these mistakes or what caused these mistakes. its actually really shitty because the bad will always stick out more than the good because the good is what is suppose to happen and the bad is the variable...variables get more attention than the constants i feel. deep down i don't think I'm a shitty human being.. even though i might think that a lot or hate myself...ik I'm only human and i can't be perfect and as much as id love for everyone to love me and me to not hurt anyone its more than likely unrealistic and it'll happen to me and already has happened to me and now i understand that and i will be more forgiving as i go on in life, the same forgiveness id want people to give me.

i use to think that everything had to work in reciprocality like for some reason i always thought everything should be equal all of the time..but i was extremely wrong, some people need more some people need less some people expect things and if they mean anything to you, the extra effort should hinder you or disrupt you...every human has a different way of looking at relationships and when those ways collide and don't add up it creates problem. I'm not saying people should give up in what they believe in but people should be less harsh about it... i know people who should be less harsh on me and i know people that i will be less harsh on and who i would be less harsh on if i could go back in time.

i tried to think about why I'm so afraid of butterflies and i can't really think of what happened along the way that got me here but i think the very root is the movie “butterfly effect” I'm also pretty sure they are remaking that movie into a 2018 version and ill probably go scare the fuck out of myself while seeing it.

my anxiety was gone until thinking about butterflies 

i tried to explain a fear of butterflies to this kid named mike and i sounded like an absolute idiot and then his response was “does this scare you” and it was the close up of a butterfly from this spongebob episode and i can't get it out of my head.... i think the video is called “wormy close up”

 fuck wormy

usually id think something so symmetrical was beautiful seeing has my old tendencies make me love symmetrically and i do things in that way like when i touch my feet to surfaces and shit bc i feel all neat and organized but i don't like that every butterfly ever is symmetrical as fuck...like show why what the hell. and i want to watch a video on it but i don't want to go into shock or some shit.

and they have wings that flap which is what i hate about bugs in general.

to be fair though i do like butterflies that have bright blue or white wings cus i use to see those a lot as a kid when my backyard was a golf course. but my vision of a butterfly with like brown wings and black borders gahhhh fuck that....id weather let a centipede crawl on me from head to toe than a butterfly land on me to put in in perspective. 

idk man i think this post has done for me what i thought it would do what i intended it to do...i have to be up in like 3 and a half wish hours then run for an hour then ill take a solid nap for like 5 hours or just sleep pt.2 but i must be going... until next time or sunday.

i love you

fuck wormy

goodnight

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Since the Neighborhood are adventurers, I'd like to imagine they travel by sea a fair amount of times too! A nice boat trip while occasionally breaking out into a sea shanty, eh? (And for gits and shiggles, to keep up with the whole.. Eddie in water joke, I imagine the poor guy is clumsy enough to go overboard. He may not be unconscious during it, but it wouldn't make it any less funny with the group desperately trying to pull him back aboard-)

OH OH OH allow to ramble at length about this!!! what an idea!!! i fucking love boats & the ocean & being on the water so this ask is checking all my boxes rn

first i imagine that the length of their trips varies wildly, along with the quality due to the glorious variation in weather & bodies of water. and i'm choosing to believe this universe uses tall ships instead of like... fantasy steam ships. because i fucking love tall ships. the sails, the rigging, the elegance... an absolute bitch to maintain and maneuver <3

i imagine that depending on the ship, captain, and size of the crew, the Neighborhood may be required to help out to earn their keep. especially since they're a crew of nine eight, and some ships are woefully understaffed!

I'd imagine that Poppy sometimes takes the cook's job if the crew is currently lacking one (or if the cook wants a fucking break, jeebus it's a demanding job. there's a reason ship cooks in moves/tv are always stern & serious). Barnaby can probably charm his way into doing nothing but provide music/entertainment (much to Sally's aggravation). everyone else are plain deckhands

of course i imagine that that doesn't always happen! plenty of ships are probably content to just take their coin and tranport them. some of them (Eddie, Poppy) may still wheedle their way into helping out though. they strike me as characters that can't Not help

who i imagine loves their little water journeys: Barnaby, Wally, Sally, Wormie

neutral: Frank, Julie

hates it: Poppy, Howdy, Eddie

allow me to provide reasoning!!

Barnaby's impeccable balance probably means that he's stable as a rock even in choppy waters, and i'm reasoning that he doesn't get seasick either. his vestibular system is as solid as his sea legs! he probably finds the whole experience relaxing as anything. He gets to just recline on the bowsprit's base or wherever he isn't in the way & smoke/play his accordion/nap.

Wally just has such a love of life and new things, so why wouldn't he love being on the water? it's different! it's new every time! there are ample things to learn about and do! Home probably keeps his systems stable so that he doesn't have to deal with seasickness. though it probably takes him a little bit to find his sea legs... catch him stumbling around like a lil newborn lamb. sometimes he is facedown on the deck <3 i imagine he'd enjoy going aloft!

Sally would probably love the inherent romanticism and adventure of it all. Who knows what dangers and glory they may face! I bet she writes up a storm during this time - plenty of story material! food for the imagination! what does Anne say... Scope for the imagination, i believe! i bet she also loves having a captive audience. Literally. they're stuck on this ship with her <3

so many lines for Wormie to climb... so many little places to crawl into... new people to trick into giving her treats... down time where the Neighborhood is relaxing in one place. abundant time for affection!

Frank probably doesn't have strong feelings about it. It's a boring ship with no bugs or things to do. Except when he manages to rope crew members into having a lil impromptu fight club. Or when the Neighborhood is put to work - i wonder if he'd find the maintenance soothing or pleasant... or if he'd relish in the hard work of pulling lines

Julie is likely in a similar boat (ha) as Frank. once the initial "wow! whoah!" wears off, it can get boring! and games are limited - there's only so much you can do on a ship (depending on the size of the ship of course), and there might be strict rules to keep passengers out of the crew's way and to lower risk. She probably entertains herself by "bothering" her friends and the crew & cloudgazing.

Poppy... do i need to explain? wooden ship on the ocean, which i understand can be terrifying. who knows what lurks below the waters? if the weather will change on a dime? if one of the flammable things on board catches fire? if the ship hits something? etc. I imagine it's impossible to get her to go above decks. They have to literally push her statue-frozen body onto the ship when they first board

Howdy! honestly i just think it'd be really fucking funny if he gets Violently seasick! like, curled into a ball in his bunk & involuntarily making agonized noises. he sounds like a ghost w/ all the pained moaning. his sea legs suck unless he stances all four at the right distance to anchor himself in place. he's a weak, sickly, fragile little thing, take mercy on him... he doesn't even have the strength left to swindle or sell...

Eddie. now we get to the point of anon's ask - his sea legs would be nonexistent. he's staggering and stumbling all over the place. the ship just barely tilts and he's smacking into a mast or careening across the deck. and of course, hitting the guardrails at precisely the right speed/angle to allow him to tumble overboard. i bet this happens enough that every time the Neighborhood is so much as on a dock, there is at least one person either holding his arm or acting as a barrier between him and the water. as soon as they get on any ship, he's immediately sent below decks. any attempt he makes to come up is instantly blocked.

there's a lot of both comedic and angst potential there. small ship, calm waters? comedic. some neighbors are playing cards, there's on off-screen splash & Frank immediately sighs and gets up all "god damn it, Eddie-". lmao im imagining him floating there and rapid-fire blabbering in fear 'cause there's a shark (it's not a shark. it's a dolphin. everyone on board is so unimpressed.) he's sobbing in fear as they pull him in <3

but angst? imagine there's a storm. imagine it's an all-hands-on-deck situation, every available hand is needed, and Eddie is strong as fuck - he'd be a monster at pulling lines. probably wouldn't even need to sweat them. but a violently rocking ship, slick decks, maybe even waves splashing over the deck... oof i can so easily imagine Eddie slipping & sliding right over the side. maybe while the others watch. maybe they try to grab him, but they're too late. and in such a horrible storm, there's not much they can do - it's dark, the water is incredibly turbulent, the ship can't turn around easily, there's torrential rain. a high stress situation! i'm imagining Frank grabbing a lifebuoy, firmly fastening it to a pin, and then throwing himself overboard after Eddie. something to think about! (i'm imagining that after the storm clears up enough, everyone rushes to the side to check. Eddie & Frank are trailing after the boat, lashed to the buoy and exhausted. maybe a little banged up, but overall fine!)

and then yeah.... oh the shanties Barnaby could lead... the whole ship sings! and then them all in their bunks (or in their hammocks!) in the [insert term for living quarters here, it can vary] when its sleepytime. y'all would not believe the shenanigans that can occur in the fo'c'sle (or the main hold, basically wherever the ship's sleeping quarters are), especially before actual sleep occurs. peak silly time.

there's a lot of potential here, thank you anon!

like now i'm thinking - what about sea monsters? or jobs that Require them to go on the water, as in the job takes place on a ship? ocean battles! ocean searches!