#stringy the string worm

[krislgfox]

Stringy is done! Now I can peacefully finish sugarfly fankid :]

I was lazy properly write his twisted info so I wrote it shortly, sorry ú-ù

Fun fact btw: Among all of my fankids he's the second tallest toon after Collie(He often slouches, so it's barely noticeable) :]

[p0etic-l0ser]

His name is germ

[chronurgy]

Gortash Week Day 6 - Dealer's choice/AU (childhood)

She doesn’t know for sure that the boy living in her house is her son. She birthed him, sure, remembers that as well as anything. But if she hadn’t been there for it, she wouldn’t’ve picked this boy out as hers. He’s not like them. Not like her, not like his father. Not like anyone around the place, really.

When he was a baby, he was always screaming. Shrieking and fussing about some thing or another. And he was ravenous. Always grabbing her breast when he was smaller, never content to leave her be. Once he was old enough to eat solids, he would cram any piece of food he could get his greedy little hands onto into his hungry maw without so much as a by your leave. Like a bottomless pit, he was. And never grateful for any of it, either, the little snot. He stole, too, once he was big enough to reach the counters. How many times had she whacked his wandering hands with a spoon while cooking? Too many to count. And sometimes she’d catch him wolfing down some piece of food out in the alley behind the house she knew he couldn’t have stolen from her kitchen. She’d punish him for it, of course, give him a few good licks and lock him in the house, but he always got back out again eventually.

He was eerie, the boy that was supposed to be her son. Something lurked behind those dark eyes that spooked her. He just watched, watched them all unceasingly. At least when he wasn’t absorbed in one of those books of his. She’d certainly never taught him to read something like that, pages upon pages of dense little text and words near longer than her forearm. She’d taught him proper useful stuff, easy sums and enough reading to get by. He’d taken to it like a fish to water. And he just loved to flaunt it. Doing sums in his head, divisions even, without even counting on his fingers. He’d wait just long enough, long enough for it to be clear that she was struggling, counting on her fingers, before he'd announce the answer in that lackadaisical tone of his. He had no respect, that boy. He’d wormed his way into doing the store’s books and as soon as he had squirmed his way in, he’d started making demands, like he had the right. “Get a different leather supplier, Father” this, and “We haven’t got the money for that this month” that. Insolent boy! What right had he to tell his parents – they who fed him and clothed him and kept a roof over his head – what they ought to do? What would a child even know about money? And no matter how often they told him to shut it, the boy insisted on clinging to the purse strings tight as a miser’s fist.

And he lied, she knew he did. She couldn’t prove it, but she knew. A mother always knows. She’d found some complicated little toy stuffed under his bed, something she knew she certainly hadn’t bought him. She didn’t see the point in such fiddly mechanical bits of junk for children. When she’d confronted him about it, told him he couldn’t be stealing things like that, the boy’d had the very nerve to insist that he’d made it himself. Sometimes a bit of punishment would get him squealing, get him to admitting the nasty things he’d done. But just to spite her, the wretch had refused to admit his lies. He’d curled his stringy body around the thing as though to protect it and not spoken a word, barely even let out a whimper. Even when she’d got her hands on the thing, even then he’d refused to give up the lie. She’d had no choice but to smash it. She couldn’t have something like that in the house where the guard might find it and know it was stolen. Then he’d begged. Then he’d screamed. But even then, he had refused to tell her the truth. He’d had the nerve to fake tears for the dammed piece of junk, as though he’d cared about the damn thing. And when she’d told him to stop with the crocodile tears, he’d had the audacity to pretend to be afraid of her, cowering there with his hands over his head like he’d thought she would beat him. She’d seen the gleam in his eye though. She knew it was all some petty child’s manipulation. The lies never stopped with that whelp.

Her husband has debts, she knows this. She doesn’t trust the boy, not at all, and she checks and double checks every bit of work he does on the books. She knows they’re deep, deep in the hole and only getting deeper with every month that passes. She also knows that there isn’t a way out, not for people like them. And then a woman arrives. She arrives at their shop one day, a day when Enver is out of her hair and off on the streets doing things only the gods know about. She’s short, with long, beautiful dark hair, hair like she’d had before her husband and that boy had turned her grey before her time. “I bring the solution to all your problems,” the woman had said without prompting.

And oh, she had. She really, really had.

[milky-fixx]

“what, are you scared?”

you startle at the hand on your back, the warmth of his breath on the nape of your neck—much closer than he was mere seconds ago. you whirl around, glowering at your ginger-haired companion.

“not funny, childe!”

the light flickers above you, quick enough to make out the grin on his face, teeth nearly too white against the darkness of the room.

“come now, comrade, you don’t mean to tell me you’re frightened—”

“nope,” you say firmly.

he raises a brow, not for a minute believing in your front. “scared?”

“am not.”

“terrified?”

“no—” you start, but are cut off as something large and hairy drops onto your shoulder. you screech, trying to shake the fake spider off, but stilling once your fingers brush against something thin and stringy.

“please get it off,” you beg childe. he laughs, his fingers deftly undoing the strings of web wrapped around your arm.

“well, since you asked so kindly.”

“is it almost over?” you moan, burying your face into his chest when he’s done. you are fully intent on using him as a shield; it was his idea, after all, to venture into this haunted house. his idea, after all, to see just how brave you were by letting you go first.

“hmm…” he ponders, twining strands of your hair in his hand. he leans in to inhale deeply, before sighing. (childe told you he likes the way you smell, as weird as that sounds. he said it calms him, helps him focus—of course you thought it was strange at first, even joked about him having a scent kink, but he shrugged it off.)

“after we round the corner, i’d say…” you perk up at the thought of nearly being finished with the maze.

“we’re not even close to halfway through,” he finishes.

you deflate. “i hate you for this.”

“you always say that, but who’s still in this relationship?” he says jovially, squeezing your arm.

“maybe this’ll break us up,” you say sourly, glaring up at him. childe turns a curious gaze to you. “giving me a heart attack with all these jumpscares. offering me up as worm food for the zombies. as fine wine for the vampires.”

you sigh, attempting to untangle yourself around him, but his grip, surprisingly strong, holds you in place. with his free hand, he tilts your chin up. he’s frowning, his gaze unusually serious. “do you really think i would let anything bad happen to you? my mate? that’s an insult,” he says, expression somber.

but then he shifts. he smiles, his hand caressing your cheek. “i’m strong, you know that? stronger than you can imagine. it’s my job to protect you.”

in the few months you’ve been dating, you’ve gotten well-acquainted with childe’s capricious nature. he has a knack for being serious in the most unexpected moments, carefree in the next.

but one of the words he says catches your attention.

“wait—mate? what are we, animals?” childe cocks his head in confusion, about to argue with you, but then pauses. you persist. “and protect? protect me from what? the spiders?”

his smile this time seems stiff. childe lets out a bark of a laugh, and for a second, you think you see a flash of teeth too sharp to be human. but you blink and it’s gone. it’s just childe staring at you with a strange expression on his face, as if you’ve seen him—really seen him—for the first time.

“i was just playing monster there. to get in the mood. don’t think too hard about it! it was just a joke.”

“but you know… you really should be careful about what kind of monsters you trust.”

childe clasps his hand over yours, and you jolt. for a moment, it seemed as if his nails were sharper, like claws digging into you. but when you look down, his hands look normal, as they always do.

“you never know what kind of creatures lurk in the night. you just might find yourself in one of their traps.”

[embry-call-fan-club]

Embry Call X OC

Prologue chapter to my fic Cozy on both Wattpad and Fanfiction.net

Tropes:

Slow burn

High school crushes

Popular guy + Shy Socially Awkward girl

Winnie’s POV

Someone should have told me that my crush was that obviously in plain sight for anyone to see.

I somehow convinced myself that I was mature about it. I thought I kept my crush mostly to myself. I thought I was careful not to do double takes at him, or try not to sit in the desk next to him whenever we had a class together.

I didn't let myself like Embry Call.

I tried my hardest to avoid him in the halls, I never mentioned him—let alone told anyone—I didn't even look at him. I had my back to Embry all four years of high school.

But everyone within ten feet of me knew the whole time. No one told me how bad I actually had it for Embry Call.

I was mortified when my friends first told me how I should go to a party because Embry was suppose to be there. They said it so casually, so knowingly, as if they were talking about the weather. While I was so speechless that my mouth dried up. I barely managed to ask them how many people knew ten minutes later. They shrugged me off, they were sure I knew everyone in our grade already knew I liked Embry since middle school.

I was so humiliated I just hid in their bathroom till it was time to go. One of my friends did her best to apply makeup on me in the car. She was so excited for Embry to see me with eyeliner, blush and lipstick that was shakily applied in a dark car. I barely remember if it turned out scary or decent because it was the least mortifying part of that night.

With a reservation as small as La push, most parties often end up at the beach. Everyone in the school always shows up to the beach parties. No parents, and plenty of space and the beach keeps people entertained, which all make it the perfect party venue. It was the last day of summer, the first day of school started in just twelve hours. The entire three hundred something student body packed the beach, half of them already in the water and the rest building bonfires or serving out the jungle juice. That was local tradition, each student had to bring a bottle of any kind of liquor to mix in or be shared. La Push jungle juice never tasted like fireball and gummy worms; it tasted like cans of beers and stolen booze from our parents, and it guaranteed the worst hangover of your life. Only the strong could handle it. Tourists can barely endure a cup.

I didn't.

"You're not gonna forget this night." My friend Skylar laughed, but looking back at it now I should have taken it as a warning. She was right. I never did live this night down.

I can still feel the sand in the night air brushing over my exposed shoulders whenever I think about this night. I feel the heat blasting on my skin where hands squeezed. Then immediately the hordes of laughing and ridicule.

I'm not going to play victim, and tell myself that was the worst night of my life. It wasn't. God knows I've had dozens of harder nights. But it's the night that changed everything, and even after all these years La Push won't let me forget it. Till this day I'm still known as the Drunk Girl on the rez.

All my friends thought Embry and I was such a cute idea. They were all supportive, but at age fifteen it was more pushy than helpful. Skylar lent me her bikini, and swapped for my regular one piece that was one size too small for her, which showed off the beginnings of her new boobs. While me, who barely hit puberty barely filled out her baby blue, triangle, stringy two piece. They had to triple knot the measly string before we all got into the car.

Even now I still won't wear a bikini.

Anyone and everyone could see how red my body flushed when I was swimming in that two piece. An embarrassingly orangey-pink blush that I couldn't hide. All I could do that night was tugged the bottoms as high they would go and pray the knot held over and over again.

After being clued in, I felt like everyone noticed when I found Embry in the crowd when we first got there. He was surrounded by his friends on a blanket, all of them still long haired and boyish. Sixteen year old me thought everyone was staring, and they were...just not yet.

My friends figured if everyone knew, then what was to lose if I tried talking to him? Then I realized the worst right when I walked up to him; what if Embry knew I liked him? He was nice when I froze up and walked off. He offered me a wave while his friends snickered in the midst of me running away to the nearest cluster of people for an exit; the makeshift bar.

That was my first mistake.

I downed at least three cupfuls by the time I got in the water. I couldn't walk straight anymore. I figured the next best thing was to float and bobble till I could feel my knees again. I nearly sunk like a rock when I saw Embry drop his shirt at the shoreline. I swear the water got warmer when he swam in.

I'd usually pretend I didn't see Embry, then probably get out of the water for good measure. But young and drunk is a bad combination. Instead I swam up right next to him.

"Hey Winnie." He was nice enough to say hi when he noticed me, because Embry is too polite and sweet for the average teenager. His hair was down, the long brown mane stuck to the back of his neck and shoulders.

"Hi." For one measly word, I managed to slur it. I still turn red at the memory of that goofy grin I gave him.

"You look like you're having a good time. Are you good?" He chuckled at how drunk I was. He made my school girl dreams a reality when he inched closer to put a supporting hand at the back of my neck, just in case he had to pull me up if I went under.

"Super." I barely held my head up over a wave. The tide almost sent me drifting, but Embry's hand caught me before I got swept off. A firm hand holding me at the curve of my shoulder, another keeping me close by the small of my back. He pulled me in so close our knees kept softly colliding underwater, and I could see the water sticking to his lashes.

"I know you're a tough girl and all, but being this far out when you're this tipsy isn't the best idea." Embry looped an arm around me, his hand going from my lower back to the curve of my hip. I was so wasted I didn't remember how I let out a pleased hum till the morning after. "Let's get you to the kiddie pool."

"Embry, I should have asked you ou—"

The ocean pulled back far, then a wave silenced me. Half the beach was pushed back towards the shore. It crashed on top of us, flattening us into the sand. Water burned up my nose while mouthfuls of it were so cold then salty it stung like battery acid as it forced its way down. The tides flipped me against my will, threatening to pull my neck in the opposite direction of my body was dragged towards. Just when I thought I found the ocean floor, a second wave landed on me. The only thing I could do was thrash and hope I figured out where the surface was.

"Winnie!" Embry and I were ripped apart. But he went back for me. He pulled me up by my elbows, helping me up to feet. "You're alright, you're alright..."

The rush of cold wasn't what made me figure it out. No, the piercing wolf whistle was the giveaway. Then the laughing broke out.

The wave knock off the bikini.

The top was drifting towards shore, while the bottoms were dragged off towards the sea.

I was too scared to even cry or shout. All I could manage was a dunk back into the water in a weak attempt to hide. I grabbed what I could, reached around and clutched with a white knuckle grip till skin threatened to rip.

The whole beach was laughing at me, even the sea was cackling. The louder they laughed, the more exposed my skin felt. The entire student body saw every inch of my body. They saw all of it, all tongue, cheeks, and lips. No matter how much more I sunk into the ocean, they couldn't unsee it.

If I had just one or the other half on, I would have made a run for it. But both my hands were only enough for one of the other, not that much skin. I wasn't sure if the salt in my eyes or the humiliation that made the tears well up.

"Look at me." Then there was Embry, blocking me from the crowd as much as he could. I only caught a glance of him before he came in and out of my blurry vision. A sweatshirt billowed around me and resisted the water before being weighed down then sinking. The fabric was cold rather than comforting from all the water.

"Just look at me." Embry assured, pulling the sweatshirt as far down as it'll go before helping me to my feet. I didn't even know he ran to shore and back to get this.

Our hands clutch at each other as I stumbled back up shore. I was so wasted, if I let go I felt like I would land into the sand. I didn't even bother to get my stuff. Instead, I immediately rushed across the beach, hurried past the parked cars and ignored the pointing and cellphones as much as I could. I picked up some speed when the sand gave away to solid dirt and grass.

Even far away from everyone, and I still felt completely naked.

"Winnie," Embry slowed down, pulling us to stop. The humiliation sobered me up, and the realization had hit me so suddenly a headache rushed to the front of my head. I pulled back, only to find out how much I needed the support to stand up straight. My head aware but legs were still drunk, I stumbled over my own feet till I landed into a tree.

"I'm not gonna bother even asking if you're okay, when I know you're not. Can I drive you home? Take you to get some food?" Embry reached for me, offering a hand like he done all night. It was then I noticed he was shaking, still shirtless to the waist down, he was soaking wet.

"The whole school just saw me naked." I rasped, nearing hyperventilation. I could feel the burn of the alcohol again, only this time rising back up instead of down.

"At least you're drunk." He didn't answer. Not with a lame lie about how no one saw me to spare my feelings, which I appreciated the honesty more than the fleeting comfort. But he didn't say yes either.

"Help me change schools. Or dump my body somewhere." I keeled over, not sure if I was going to throw up or just needed a place to hide. I couldn't stand it. Every curve and inch of my body felt polished, pinched and rubbed from all the eyes. I felt violated.

"I'm sorry, Winnie. I'm so sorry." Embry apologized, hugging his arms across his chest, sending water everywhere.

"You didn't have to. It wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't your fault either." Embry pointed out. "Is there anything I can do? Anything?"

"Not unless you can go back in time and drown me instead," My legs finally gave out from under me and I landed into the grass with a thump that made Embry jumped. "I'm just gonna sit here."

I needed a moment from all the running, from all the laughing, from all of the last few hours of my life. The party could still be heard from the beach, the music and crackle of the bonfire floated over the treetops to us.

"You don't have to have to stay." I said to Embry who instead lowered down next to me. Not too fast though, as if it'll make me motion sick.

"Not a chance." Embry's hand landed on my knee, then gave it a squeeze that made me even dizzier. "I'm staying till you feel better."

"I just flashed the entire school, and all in front of the guy I like. I'm not gonna feel better till I graduate."

"Lucky guy then." Embry chuckled, the rumble made my stomach do an excited leap. Then immediately lurched afterwards like I might throw up. "You should have taken him out to dinner first, Winnie."

"I doubt he'll say yes if I ask now." I clutched my legs to my chest, and hoped it would help lessen the nausea.

"No, he'll definitely say yes now. He'll be crazy not to. Who wouldn't want to see you from head to toe again?" My heart jumped so hard it rammed into my rib cage. The earth tilted on its edge, and nearly sent me toppling over into the grass. I had to hold my breath so I wouldn't have gasped.

"Whose the guy you like? Do I know him?" Embry asked, his voice threatening to crack a bit at the end like puberty. Drunken me had the urge to say him of course, apparently the whole school knew, which meant Embry should have known too. Yet, I still couldn't live with it. How was I suppose to even say, 'I know that you know I like you.' Let alone even ask a boy out? I was fifteen and hopeless and awkward like everyone else. Then I was fifteen, hopeless, awkward, and butt naked to everyone on the Rez.

"You know him." I slurred the ending. "You definitely know him."

"So I'm guessing someone in our grade." Embry thinks it's over, his face going serious. "It's Jared Cameron isn't it? Every girl has a crush on him. But Kim had first dips since preschool—"

"It's not Jared Cameron," I shook my head to myself. "It's someone I've liked since the fifth grade. Then tonight my friends clued me in on how everyone already knew I have the biggest crush on them. Which just makes this night that much more humiliating." I buried my face into the tops of my knees, ready for the ground to swallow me whole. It felt like finding out you're actually the biggest idiot in the room and everyone had been laughing at you the whole time, but add nudity to that nightmare. I've never felt so hollowed our before.

"Don't tell me it's Paul Lahote." He groaned, throwing his head back. If half the girls in our grade haven't liked Jared Cameron since kindergarten, then the other half had a crush on Paul Lahote. "I didn't take you for one of those people who like a bad boy type."

"No, Lahote is too much of a hot head." If it hadn't been such a humiliating night I would have laughed. "The guy I like is the nicest person I know. My favorite thing I like about him is how he's the sweetest guy to anyone and everyone."

"Sounds like a winner," Embry nodded solemnly, grinding his foot into the dirt.

"He helped me tonight." I heard the slurred words before I realized I said them. A long silent moment passed before the implications of my words weighed me down. I almost cursed but everything was slowed down and delayed by the alcohol. I didn't turn red till his eyes locked on mine, "No, wait—"

I didn't get to finish, Embry closed the gap between us. He hesitated, stopping against my nose. Every hair on my body stood up on end, my body threatening to shake. He swallowed, leaned in further, with his hands reaching up to grasp me around my hips then he hesitated once more, and dropped them.

Our eyes locked, the longing gaze the only thing between us.

Embry didn't hesitate again. He closed in on me, not stopping this time till our lips met. He cupped my face to bring me in closer, the other getting tangled in my wet hair. Just as we were about to deepen the kiss there was a burst.

"Yeah, get it Call!"

"Call is making out with the school slut!"

We didn't break apart, we jumped apart. A group of drunk boys hooted and cheered as they broke through the tree line, the phones shining lights on me as they recorded everything. I stumbled back, I felt naked all over again. But this time naked and damned like a burning woman at the stake.

"Hey!" Embry squared his shoulders, shielding me as much as his scrawny fifteen year old body could. Him being shirtless made everything seem worse than it actuality was. It was almost as horrible as the beach just twenty minutes before. I didn't wait for the boys to stop recording, or for them to hoist Embry on their shoulders or whatever.

I bolted.

Wasted, humiliated, wobbly and sore from the entire night; I ran.

And I never spoke to Embry Call again.

[chuthulhu-reads]

[ID: The hardcover Junji Ito collection, Shiver. The main image on the front page is the head of a pretty girl, apparently just her head, with her neck turning into a stringy tail like a balloon, though the tail twists into a noose. Half-hidden under her hair is the round face of a frowning boy absolutely covered in pimples, and hanging from the stringy tail of that head is a fat boy with the same face. On her other side is the face of a young man, riddled with so many holes that most of his teeth are visible and his right eyeball is falling down through his cheek. The stringy tail of his neck is hanging the body of a young man riddled with holes. Twisting around these three heads is something that looks like a worm or caterpillar but, if you look close, appears to be many wrinkled heads nested inside each other. In the background are three more head-balloons. One is of a wildly cackling woman with blank white eyes, wide red lips, sharp teeth, and wild green hair, dangling the body of the same woman in a pink dress. Another head is so distorted that it almost doesn't look human, with the neck long and twisted, the nose flattened, the eyes bulging, and the brain apparently bursting out of the skull. The third is a wide, smooth face with smiling red lips, where the neck doesn't turn into one string but several, making the face look like a jellyfish or octopus. End ID.]

Ohhhh, this one definitely has a lot of the outright grosser Ito stories--the one about cooking oil, in particular, I've read before and had to skip right past. One I hadn't read before, though, was the one about a ska record made after the singer died, that everyone who listens to becomes obsessed with (it's Junji Ito, of course the source of horror is obsession), leading to a chain of murders as people fight each other over the chance to own and listen to the record. The idea of a song recorded when the singer's dead body was lying in the studio is some REAL good old-timey creepypasta shit, and it's kinda hilarious to me that a driving problem of the story is that almost nobody has a record player anymore, so all the characters' efforts to find somewhere to listen to the record just wind up exposing more people to the song from beyond the grave...

[k00282666]

Sculpture: day 1

I worked off of the verbs ‘to tie’ and ‘to knot’. I first tied my cardigan into a long plush worm with a stringy twine.

Next I tied and bound lumps of clay using string and stretch fabric. The stretch fabric helped keep the tightly strung twine from cutting the clay. I wanted to get that round bubbling look, I thought the curves looked quite plush and elegant.

[eatingexpired]

What are the white strings in ground beef?

What are the white strings in ground beef?

Is it normal for meat to have worms?

What do worms look like in hamburger meat?

What happens if you eat meat that has worms in it?

Is stringy ground beef bad?

Can you eat meat with worms?

Does all raw meat have tapeworms?

[1-800-scaryphone]

@feralreason​​ replied: "Yeah, I'd even put ya on a string if you wanted!"

❝ Ah, shit, a stringy-worm!? ❞ [The best KIND of worm! Man, William knew just what to say. They were sort of disappointed that they WEREN’T one now.] ❝ Damn...now I gotta figure out how to turn myself into a worm. ❞ 

[glitter-dildo]

A QUICK STRING WORM CARE PSA!!!!

I recently joined a string worm owners discord server and I realized the sheer amount of miss conceptions about owning worms so I am here to help give some info regarding the proper care and ownership of a string worm to help set the record straight in the form of a little Q and A with questions I've gotten from the server.

Q: Can my worm be happy without a proper enclosure?

A: While it is possible to care for a worm even if it doesn't have an enclosure, it is better for it to have its own safe space. Here are some tips for setting up a proper home for your stringy.

• A shoe box should be large enough to care for a standard size string worm.

• String worms are actually super sensitive to temperature so I suggest getting it proper bedding. Propper bedding can be many things but the most common and cheapest to find would be either confetti or shredded papper. Bedding should be colorfull, thats why I recommend confettii but you can also buy shredded papper from your local dollar store.

• I would suggest to adding a solo cup as a little space it can retreat into when it feels threatened.

Q: Do string worms need to eat?

A: The answer to this is, No. While yes they can eat, they actually don't require any nutritional supplements. If you do want to give your worm a treat I suggest feeding it sprinkles. Make sure that if you do feed it sprinkles though that they are the small spherical kind, not the long kind as they can get stuck in your worm and cause it much discomfort and distress. Also put it in a low rimmed dish.

Q: Can I put multiple worms in the same enclosure or do I need to separate them?

A: If you do decide to adopt more then one worm you can put them in the same enclosure. They are perfectly together fine aslong as they where well socialized as a youngling. I dont recomend putting more then 5 in a single enclosure though, because then it gets a little crouded for them. There are some exceptions to this though with some breeds being more territorial then others.

Q: Are there different breeds of worm?

A: There are multiple different types of stringys out there. Here are a few breeds that are most common.

• Dallery

Dalleries are probably more of the most common and sadly most often mistreated type of worm. The reason why they are so widely mistreated is due to the fact that they can be bought at the dollar store fairly cheaply. Because of this often times children will buy them and then throw them away when they get bored. They can make awesome pets though if they are properly trained.

• Strike

The strike is a less common but pretty breed. They have a very distinctive striped coat.They can have some behavioral problems and are more difficult to train but are very pretty and are often show animals. The reason for their behavioral problems is because they are usually more aggressive and territorial and if they feel threatened, they will attack your other worms. When you first adopt them I suggest keeping them separate from others, if you have any, and slowly introducing them to the others. If they are slowly introduced they are less likely to feel threatened and will eventually get along with them.

• Giganrie

Giganries are the largest breed of string worms often stretching upto 3 to 6 feet in length. I personally don't have any of my own but I have a friend who is a seasoned Giganrie owner and has shaired some of their experiences with me. Giganries are a specialty species that have to be carefully bred by seasoned professionals. While normal stringies are very simple to care for once you know the ropes, giganries are often filled with surprises. They are a far more affectionate breed and often prefer to sleep with their owners at night. They often take up alot of space so if you are living in a small house or apartment I don't suggest getting one. They are far more likely to get injured amd may require medical attention but its normal nothing that can't be handled with alittle TLC. If you are considering getting one I would look around and find a responsible breeder.

Q: Do worms require attention?

A: Just like any pet worms require attention. Depending on the breed they can either require alot or alittle attention. It also depends on their personality. If they are an outgoing worm they require alot of attention and vice versa. In the end I recommend forming a close bond with your worm and getting to know them or their habits.

This has been a quick little PSA about the very basics about worm care. If you have any questions just ask me and I can help inform the people.

[penslaandstellar]

Worm/furby community. Please accept my

humble offerings

[milesprower]

idk if that prompt thingie of the cool @dailysonicocs is still going but here are more (doodley) concepts about “velvet worms”

1. straight up character who is a velvet worm, probably very warm, good for that fella 

2, thanks to the extensive kamen rider blogging of friends, sooner or later it would come to this, since the suits are rather bug related

 kinda rabbit as a nod to this seasons rider bc of the rabbit theme heh

3. classic one, and Velvet “the worm”, less being a worm but also being a total worm if you know what i mean

[luveline]

“Just play along. Please.” With any of them! Writer’s choice!

james my beloved rescuing reader from a creep <3 tysm for ur request

An arm tucked through his arm. Your face, a stranger, looking at him pleadingly. "Just play along. Please," you whisper, and then, looking forward, "My boyfriend's gonna take you out front if you don't back off." 

He follows your gaze to a man looking startled and stringy, seemingly unconvinced by your announcement. 

James' gaze flits from you and the man and then he worms his arms around your shoulders, leaning likely too much weight on you. You take it like a champ.

"Get lost," he says. The man opens his mouth to talk, and James leans back, unimpressed. "Fuck off, mate, or I'll do what my little girl promised."

The weirdo disappears and any confidence you'd held wilts. He aches to see someone so pretty looking so lost, and he gives your shoulders a good squeeze before he lets you go.

"Thank you," you mutter.

"You alright?" he asks. 

Something shifts on your face and you smile, leaning back on the bar with your elbows in a mirror of him. 

"Fine." 

"Better if I buy you a drink?" he offers. "No strings. Or a bag of scratchings?" 

Your eyes light up. "Yes to the scratchings." 

"Alright," he says jovially. "I like a girl who loves to party." 

You laugh, and James thinks it might be the loveliest sound he's ever heard. He endeavours to make you do it again. 

[semischarmed]

Detour, Part 4

Given your previous declaration of your intent to wear his skin, you release a bit of your hold over him to see his reaction. Scott, apparently unfazed, looks to the distance, no doubt planning an escape route. The guy isn’t stupid, so you try to make out his gameplan. You catch the briefest glimpse he takes of the patch of skin where the medallion used to be and you are immediately reminded of the moment of lost control of him in your possession of Alex. ‘Motherfucker. Of course he had a plan’. Despite the risk, you decide to proceed. Scott may have that bod, and his steel will, but that pales in comparison to the years of lust and envy brewing in you. ‘Fuck it, worse case scenario we accidentally give this egomaniac god-like power. What could go wrong? Might as well fuck with him a little’.

You mess with your body’s vocal cords to make sure both your old voice and Alex’s speak. With a unified moan you state “I can’t wait to take a Scottie joyride”. 

You say your part to Scott. “You know, even with how much of an asshole you were back then, I always masturbated , every night, to the fantasy of that thick horse dick ravaging me and shuddering inside my little body.” You chuckle. “Who could have known that in just a few short years, we could both be masturbating that thick horse dick together, to the reality of my little body shuddering inside you.”

Alex adds: “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like, moving around in that tower of muscle”. You lick your lips. “Besides, you have some pretty yoked friends, Scott. Well, since we’re gonna be parading your skin around, we have some pretty yoked friends. We can’t wait to use you, to use that thick horse dick of yours, to cum inside them, to inject them with a little Alex. But don’t worry, even when we get sick of wearing you, we’ll never really leave. We’re gonna fill you in so deep, you’ll never fully get us out. You’re gonna be our little Scottie fuck doll till the day you die.”

With Alex still in the driver’s seat, you walk toward your best friend. He makes you rub your chest a little. “The truth is, Scottie, he feels amazing inside me. I love him in here and I know he’s here to sta-ayy” Alex moans a little “God I love being his puppet. I can feel his strings all inside me, worming into me, slipping, writhing, controlling me.” The Alex-y you makes you show Scott your right hand for effect, which starts spasming unnaturally before you make a quick, veined fist. You chuckle at this attempt to scare him into submission but then begin to ponder if it would actually be possible to transform your entire body that way for the possession. You and Alex strip naked. You then start masturbating your shared body right in front of Scott, as he looks away in revulsion at the sight of his corrupted best friend furiously beating his meat. “Thank you for helping me find my soulmate Scott- well, my soul master. I can’t wait for my little strings to become your little strings” he pouts “Cmon Scott. You’re so cute when you’re angry.” “Hate me Scott! Hate your best friend! Hate the faggot from high school that’s inside him! I want you livid when we fill you up. I want you boiling. Your anger really gets me going. When we pilot you around, I’m gonna make you watch. I’m gonna make you watch the new faggot Scott, faggot you corrupting and controlling your own friends!“ When you finally release, you bring a little to your mouth for inspection.

“We taste even better than expected” you say, breathless, half moaning, “here try some.” you scoop up the rest and try to push it to Scott, who quickly turns to the side. It smears his cheek instead.

You lean your face right in front of Scott’s- till your foreheads touch- and run your Alex-y fingers gently through his sweaty hair. You take a deep inhale from you position. Subtle, musky, another scent you just can’t quite place, it’s altogether manly. He smells uniquely Scotty. You can’t wait till you also smell uniquely Scotty. You rest all of your sweaty naked body right on top of Scott, still facing him. He winces slightly at the additional weight.

“Get the fuck off me!”

Scott spits right at your face. You take a little taste. ”MMhmmmmmm, I cant wait to have all that running inside me, even your spit tastes good”. He grimaces in disgust. Using your power to mentally restrain his movements, you grab his neck and give it a squeeze to force his mouth open. You scoop the bit of the Alex cum on his cheek into his now gaping maw with your thumb. You corral the spit on your face earlier into your mouth and mix it with your own, which you spit back right at his mouth. “Here’s a little primer for what we’ll taste like when we become one” you say with a dirty wink. With your powers, you force him to swallow your new “together” potion. 

“You were always the grand prize“ you say, while you trace your fingers all over your soon-to-be body. “After I let you sell your friend out, did you really think I’d just leave you after that. This new me, Alex, he was just a little detour. How could I know he’d be this into it,” You run your fingers through your hair, “but, in the end, I have to thank you. We were important little detour because- [moan] he completes me” Alex delicately guides your fingers around Scott’s nipples. You tug on them to bring his sweaty chest to yours and in your dark embrace you whisper seductively in his ear “You’ll complete us too....” Scott shudders and you moan in fake disappointment, “you’re such a greedy little asshole, you know, you can’t keep all that man to yourself. We wanna have fun too. We can’t wait to get inside that Scottie party.”

With your newfound powers, you start liquefying parts of yourself, as scott watches in horror. You start with the arm- naked, pungent, sweaty skin become a noxious, sticky, amorphous mass. It’s a horrific sight, for sure, but it becomes even more horrific to Scott when you will your newly created slime to start moving. You make sure to give him a close up of the wriggling stringy fibers of yourself inside the goo.

At this point, Scott really starts panicking.

“Look man, I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have been such a piece of shit to you in High School. Please! Cmon! You already have Alex.” Son of a bitch! You knew it! Of course he still remembers you!

Caught and preoccupied in your transformation, Scott finds the power to push you off him several feet back. Adrenaline, no doubt, but the man is also pure muscle, so it’s no surprise. “Get the fuck off me! Don’t fucking go near me, you creep!”

“Oh Scott”, you moan his name in a mocking tone. “You are such a great friend. Give me a hug”. Slimy tendrils from your body shoot out force Scott back to your sweaty embrace. You shove your pits at his face. “Mmmmphh!” he shouts in disgust and nausea. You take another deep whiff of his sweaty chest and armpits. Intoxicatingly musky, and again, uniquely Scotty. “When I’m inside you, I’m gonna make you stinky like me” you laugh “we’re gonna smell great together. We’re gonna feel great together. And to your friends? We’re gonna taste great together,“ you exhale, as you lick your thick Alex-y lips and smile an out of place angelic smile.

“You’re never gonna fucking take me, asshole!” He shouts.

You ignore him as you continue your little monologue and start slithering in some of your fleshy mass into his mouth. “And don’t worry,” an unholy harmony of your old voice and Alex’s voice says, “We forgive you for high school. Well.... “. You now moan with a mix your old voice and some new borrowed Scott vocals that your parts have already claimed. “You’ll forgive you.” You now lodge his throat full of you as your liquid tendrils greedily rush down his throat. You want to give Scott the complete experience, so more of your slimy tendrils snake through his biceps and pits, around his vascular back and throat and start jamming straight into his asshole. He moans involuntarily as he feels your wriggling mass pass the g-spot into his prime real estate. As odd as it sounds coming out of him, he even sounds alpha when he moans. You make sure to keep this area stimulated, since you can no longer restrain his body mentally. To complete his Alex infestation, you start pumping his cock to loosen a passage for yourself and then feed more slime into his piss slit. This particular action causes his mouth to open even wider than before, which you use to stuff even more slime inside. 

Despite the raw pleasure he’s in and despite your mass still continually flowing into him, Scott stands and takes shaky steps toward the door. That iron will always did turn you on. You can’t wait to make it yours. You double your speed, and start writhing and twisting erratically as you continue to flow in. When it becomes clear that he is determined to continue, you start streaming into any entryway you can find. Every orifice, every hole in his body- even some small cuts he had on his arm- are flooded with your liquid. His towering form finally falls to the ground, unconscious from the effort he expended, while the last parts of you slip inside.

When Scott wakes, he immediately straightens up. He’s impossibly full, filled to the brim with you inside him, still squirming, slipping through his body parts rhythmically. A little dribbling of yourself spills out and oozes out of his mouth, but you quickly force it back inside him before he reach for it. He needs to take all of you. 

Your future face contorts into one of pain and struggle until it settles in into a scornful, hateful, contempt. ‘How much energy does this guy fucking have?’ you think in panic, as Scott roars and in one fell swoop, flexes all the thick muscles in his body to subjugate your mass. He still looks a little bloated, but the squirming inside him stops. He smirks as feels your powers flow through him. He investigates himself and the new control he has over body parts. He flexes his arms as he starts willing parts of his body to expand and constrict on command. Scott walks up to his mirror. “I told you you couldn’t fucking take me” he says with a smirk. If Alex was a sports car, sleek and smooth, Scott would be a fucking truck, and a massive one at that. The man exudes raw power so it’s no wonder you’re struggling reining him in. Before all hope is fully lost, you feel a spark in you.

“You’re right” Scott’s voice states, unprompted. The squirming and wriggling inside him starts up again and his eyes roll back. “It’s a good thing he took a little detour taking and corrupting my tight piece of ass,” Scott moans uncharacteristically. Scott’s beefy arms start fidgeting uncontrollably “because this...little Alex puppet is... gonna show his best friend how to be a little good meat-suit for his new m-master” he forces through Scott’s vocal cords. Scott’s whole body is now trembling uncontrollably. The writhing inside him has started up again, though this time far more energetic. It was coming from everywhere. He feels his fingers, his legs constrict and relax unnaturally. He screams as his body starts scratching himself everywhere erratically and convulsing, trying to get you out. But you’re in too deep. You’re in his veins, in his muscles, in every fiber of his being. Arms still twitching from the control Alex demands, Scott starts involuntarily pumping his meat. “FUUUUUuuuuCK!!!” he roars in his mix of ecstasy and struggle, before everything in him stops.

----------

Scott sits, unexpressive, motionless. Then, a bit of movement. The corners of his lips stretch slightly and upward into a deranged smile. You twist his nipples hard and do another uncharacteristic moan in amazement. Goddamn he’s sensitive. Raw ecstasy decorates his face- your face as you begin to explore the rest of you. You reward his body for yielding to you by finishing the job you started earlier and continue pumping his meat. You release in a maelstrom. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. In the midst of your orgasm, you feel your body puff and expand massively, impossibly, taut, as deep inside Scott you integrate the core of your being into him fully. You subjugate your new muscles and skin around yourself and force them to re-constrict around their new owner. Tighter. Tighter. You feel his muscles from inside him as you pull them ever tighter until the invisible barrier between you two tears and his hunky form coalesces into you. The Alex part of you forces Scott to smile through the process of his own takeover. “AAAARRRGGH!” Scott screams in one last shout of defiance as your insides and his finally become one. 

Your eyes go wide and start fluttering while you lick yourself clean. ‘mmmmmm fuck’ Of course it tastes fucking amazing, every piece of the new you is amazing. You flex your first of many trademark “he’s the shit-and he knows it-Scotty sneers,” this new face of yours exactly reflecting one you’ve seen a thousand times in high school torment. A face that Alex had never seen until now, on account of being his best friend. Finally, fully, Scott is yours. 

Then his vitality hits. Fuck. Pure power!! “MIIINE” You scream with your new vocal cords as you start punching the air with your power. You adopt a boxer’s stance and- left hook. Right hook. Fuck. With each strike you can feel your own force as this new body executes your every whim. “MIIIINE!” Raw testosterone, raw power. Goddamn. You rush over and start punching and slamming your new beefy hands on the floor maniacally, reveling in finally feeling what it must have felt like in high school from the other side. “MIIINE!” This new jock body is limitless. You run a sweaty hand on his dick, and unsurprisingly it hardens instantly on command. You furiously start masturbating again in a frenzy, if only to release some of his pent up power. “Mine.” As Scott, you have ascended. In Scott, you are a god. With this body, with this soul, you can do anything you fucking want.

You piece together an outfit out of the clothes strewn about the apartment: Alex’s dirty used underwear and his old shirt, which fit impossibly tight on you. Alex always did like to keep things a little tighter than they should be- well, he is you, so you do too and now Scott does as well. You slip your new vascular legs through Scott’s skinniest pair of jeans and your new beast arms through his leather jacket. You‘ve always fancied Alex-your scent so you want to make sure you imprint it into this Scott-bod you now have. Then again, people have pretty unique scents. With you inside Scott, you’re fairly certain this new Scott naturally emanates a noxious combination of both their scents. You don’t put any cologne or deodorant on- why would you ever try to diminish this proof of your dominance over their bodies. 

You check yourself in the mirror and give your nipples one delightful final little twist, your run your fingers through your hair, and give your new self one hell of a Scottie smile before you step out into the world, a new man henceforth.

-End Part 4- 

Whew, what a ride. Hope y’all had fun. Not really sure where else I could take this so this is the final part for now.

[lynleyloft]

[ID: A cartoonishly drawn infographic about types of pigeon poop.

Pigeon Poop! (version 1, 2022, by Lynley Loft)

Poop colour varies from bird to bird and based on diet, age, and mineral supplements- poop isn’t a valid home diagnostic tool and this chart shouldn’t be used instead of a visit to an avian vet.

Normal Poops (next to a cartoon depiction of a pigeon poop with composition labelled “urate”, “dropping”, and “urine” and a garden pea for scale)

Pigeons will poo 3-4 times an hour, producing small, moist balls smell slightly sour and earthy. 

(Next to a picture of a dropping that is khaki brown with a white urate cap and faint foot of urine) “Ideal”, where the droppings are smooth, khaki-brown “nuts” should be the type you see most of the time.

(Next to a picture of a puddle of slightly khaki urine with only a small amount of dropping, capped by a small urate) “Watery” lots of clear or slightly khaki urine with little or no dropping, common after stress or bathing.

(Next to a picture of a typical nut of poop, but with a few seeds visible in the dropping) “Undigested Seed” a seed or two haven’t been fully digested.

(Next to a picture of a large, flat, light khaki coloured poo with a slightly blistered urate and a modest foot of urine) “Broody” loggy, slightly soggy poop with a crazed or cracked urate.

(Next to a picture of a puddle of white urine with thin strings of dropping striped by white urate) “Stringy” droppings and urine are moving quickly through the gut and haven’t quite combined.

(Next to a picture of a poop that has a faint swirled pattern, like the poop emoji) “Noodly” slightly more nut-shaped than stringy, but might break in to strings when smeared.

Unusual Poops. These unusual poops, especially acutely (all of the sudden, all of the poops) are a good clue to schedule an appointment with an avian vet, particularly if there have been no changes or disruptions in your pigeon’s routine.

(Next to a picture of a pair of otherwise typical looking poops where the droppings have a pinkish or reddish colour) “Pink, Red, or Red-Brown” while such colours are slightly frightening to new keepers, they are often caused by mineral grit or sorghum, not blood.

(Next to a picture of a poop where the dropping is predominantly mixed seed rather than digested matter and the puddle of urine is slightly larger and khaki shaded) “Undigested Seed” passing whole, undigested seeds limits the nutrition needed for a happy and healthy bird!

(Next to a picture of a puddle of brightly green urine with only a spot of dark green dropping and a spot of urate in it) “Pea Soup” distinctly bright grassy or neon green, often watery. Could indicate infection or excess bile.

(Next to a a picture of a fairly typical poop, but with a froth of bubbles edging the urate) “Frothy” frothy or bubbly poop suggests air in the gut and is not normal.

Worms cannot be detected in poop by a layperson prior to worming medication.

Under the border of the image, which is simple lines, with a silhouette of a pigeon feather at each corner, text continues: Useful descriptions to use with your vet: oily, watery, greasy, chunky, bubbly or frothy, tarry, sticky, soupy. Note unusual odour, unusual colour, wet or dirty feathers around the vent, and a change in frequency and amount of poop produced. Use common sense and visit a vet if you’re uncertain. End ID]

[secretobsessionstuff]

If this isn’t too much trouble, I would love to read a little something about Shawn or Dakota being the sickie. ( i have an odd attachment to them) Something where they’ve come down with a stomach flu, and they’re just so sick and pukey that they can barely hold themselves up. Their s/o’s are scared shitless because they have never seen them so weak. (bonus points if the sickie faints). Hope you are healthy & safe!!! you rock!!

Okay I’m breaking my own rules by filling this request when I have a bunch more that came before this. But for some reason I was inspired by this request! So, thank you anon for the lovely prompt and it is fact you who rocks!!

“Blair!” Dakota called out in the weakest and strained voice. The words came out sounding muffled and thick from having just thrown up over the side of the bed. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and let his head fall forward as a string of bile hung from lips. Thankfully, the puddle of vomit now staining the carpet wouldn’t be too hard to clean up because Dakota’s stomach had practically nothing left to give up. This was the third time in the same hour that the nausea became too intense, too quickly, leaving Dakota with not time to prepare. All he could do was lean away from the bed and let his body do its thing.

Dakota sure did swish that his body would do its thing faster. It had been almost six hours since the ache in Dakota’s belly woke him up. And every hour since, he had not stop throwing up even when nothing but air forced its way up his throat. He clutched at his chest, grimacing from the pain that spread throughout his chest.

“I’m coming!” He heard Blair call from down the hallway. Soon after, she appeared in the bedroom with a clean bucket, and a face cloth in her hand. To Dakota, she looked fuzzy and uneven, almost like he was looking at her through choppy water.

She crouched by the bed, making sure that didn’t step in the pile of sick. Blair gave Dakota a pout and held his face in her hands. He was still burning up despite the fever reducers she had given him and the many obsessive time that she wiped his face with the cold cloth. By this point, she was simply going through the motions of wiping away the sweat and the sick from his lips. Nothing was working and this stomach bug just kept wreaking havoc on Dakota’s gut. Blair was starting to worry, not just because his eyes had a glassy and distant look to them, but because the eyes themselves look to be sinking deeper into his skull. And his skin was the color of ash. What worried Bair even more was that she barely needed the cloth anymore to wipe away the sweat, because there was none. Judging by the dampness of the Dakota’s shirt and the bed sheets, she had a fairly good guess of where all his fluids had gone, not to mention the dozens of times that she emptied the puke bucket.

Blair petted Dakota’s hair and sucked in air through her teeth. “Kota, do you think you can keep soup down, or maybe Gatorade?”

As if to reply, another dry retch tore its way up Dakota’s throat. He lurched forward in the direction of his girlfriend, but luckily there was nothing to bring up. He shook his head weakly and allowed the momentum from the retching to pull him towards Blair. He rested his head against her chest and hiccuped. “Ah, it hurts, Blair.” He moaned into her shirt.

She kissed the top of his head while her expression grew into one of concern. “I know baby, but you have to try eating something.”

Dakota groaned because he knew she was right. Even dazed and fever-ridden, he could tell that his body was in desperate need of fluids. Any energy he had left was sapped from his muscles, making so that even holding his head was a struggle.

So, he allowed Blair to guide him to the living room where he waited for the soup to be made. To ease his stomach into it, he took a few sips of blue Gatorade. When the liquid landed in his stomach, it felt like he was trying to digest lighter fluid. Unfortunately, his stomach was a war zone, and nothing would settle properly.

When Blair placed a bowl of yellow soup on the lap tray, Dakota tried hard not to let a gag escape his mouth. He was the furthest from being hungry he’d ever been. He picked up the spoon and started to move the chicken and noodles around the bowl, until he found the nerve to put something in his belly.

Blair sat down on the couch next to Dakota after placing the bucket by their feet. Hopefully, they wouldn’t need the bucket, but she thought it best to be safe. She nodded her head as Dakota took the smallest sips of soup. This was better than nothing, she thought. At least her boyfriend wasn’t about to shrivel up like a houseplant she forgot to water.

A shiver ran up Dakota’s spine as the warm soup slipped down his throat. Each spoonful was a struggle that he needed to talk himself into swallowing. His bottom lip quivered each time he opened his mouth. When he was halfway through the soup, he had to stop because he felt his stomach beginning to churn. He looked down at his pathetic attempt to eat something and sighed. Most of the noodles were still left, because the first few mouthfuls felt like he was swallowing worms. Even now, he thought he could feel something swimming and wiggling around inside him. He set aside the bowl and covered his mouth his hand.

Blair watched him carefully as he put the spoon down. It wasn’t much, but she was happy that he tried eating something. The only problem was that Dakota looked as nauseous as a seasick passenger. She put her hand on his shoulder and said, “will you be able to keep it down?”

For a quick second, Dakota was simply staring off into space, still with his hand over his mouth. He willed himself to keep the food down, even his tummy was very unhappy with the new state of things. The nausea was just as bad as when he first woke up, but he tried not to think about this.

But he couldn’t not think about it. He hugged his middle and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out. His jaw felt like it was being weighed down by a ton of rocks and saliva was quickly coating his tongue. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Please, Kota,” Blair said, sounding defeated, and more than anything she sounded worried. “We might have to go to the hospital if you can’t keep it down.” Even as Blair said this, she passed the bucket for Dakota to place it on his lap. She wasn’t about to force him to do something he had no control over.

“I’m sorry,” Dakota mumbled again. He took the bucket gratefully and spat away stringy saliva. When the first gag gurgled up his throat, he tried cutting it off by slapping a hand over his mouth. This succeeded only in making his body lurch forward. He had to keep it down, he had to, but he didn’t want to. His poor belly was in agony as he resisted the urge to throw up.

Blair could see the pain written on Dakota’s sunken face and it stabbed her in the chest. “Oh baby, it’s fine, let yourself be sick.”

Dakota didn’t need to be told twice. He moved his hand away from his mouth and immediately a surge of vomit splattered into the bucket. It was a loud heave that came from deep within belly, but Dakota didn’t have time to be embarrassed because a second gush of noodles and broth came rushing up his esophagus. When his stomach had effectively emptied itself all over again, Dakota was too weak to lift his head up.

He kept his chin buried in the bucket while he moaned, “Mm…my belly hurts so much, Bee.”

“I know, this sucks. I’m sorry,” Blair cooed as she rubbed his back. While trying to decide if they needed to go to the hospital, she lifted Dakota’s head so she could get a proper look at him. Blair had never seen Dakota so weak and lifeless. If it weren’t for her hand under his chin, his head would certainly fall forward. His eyes were hardly open, his skin was sallow, and his cheeks looked hollow. Yep, it was time to go.

“Alright, Dakota,” Blair said as she put the basin full of sick on the floor and helped her boyfriend up from the couch. “We can’t wait any longer.”

Blair felt like she was leading a zombie around. As soon as she pulled Dakota to his feet, he stumbled, and she needed to catch him. It’s a miracle that Blair managed to get Dakota in the car without being crushed by his weight. It helped that he was able to shuffle his feet, but the fever was affecting his presence so much that Dakota looked like he was sleepwalking.

Once in the car with a bucket on his lap, Dakota finally looked up. His unfocused eyes searched for Blair until he saw her coming from the house with an overnight back in her arms. She placed their things in the trunk and joined him upfront. He looked at her with big brown glassy eyes.

Blair cupped his face with her hand and gave him a weak smile. “This will all be over soon, I promise.”

Dakota blinked heavily and couldn’t seem to find the energy to open his eyes back up. “I’m tired.”

“Then sleep, Kota.” Blair leaned over and kissed his burning forehead before putting the car into drive.