#tiny worm hat

[smolwormadventures]

“While we look for our Christmas decorations, Uncle Potato Chip sent us this!”

“He’s on vacation in the old lands and dropped in on my cousins who live there and help them move into their new home. They recently moved into part of an old boat.”

“Uncle says it’s cold there and is glad they’ve got the new place to keep them warm. He says Draven likes the ‘attic’ part the best. Said he kept himself holed up in there most of the time.”

“Overall, Uncle says he’s enjoying visiting. I told him he’s going to freeze his ass off when he gets back home because it’s just as cold here. And that I’m glad he’s having a good time. He said he’d make it back in time for the holiday.”

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

wormie wormie wormie wormi-

[textless]

[wormgoddess]

So I watch M.A.S.H. last night.

Now I got an ear worm~

[mutant-distraction]

"This Spectacular Bag-worm Crafted a "witch hat" from a Rolled Leaf!

These tiny architects are found worldwide and are known for creating unique protective bags from leaves, twigs, and silk. Fascinating, right?"

📸 Girish Gowda

[ye-olde-trojan-horse]

OKAY BUT ALL THE MARAUDERS HAVING TINY ANIMAGUS FORMS IS GIVING THIS ENERGY

James “would you still love me if i were a worm” Potter and Regulus “yes” Black

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[transit-fag]

Worms in tiny hats ride the train, do you?

[tswwwit]

Do you think once in a blue moon dipper just re-incarnates into a snake or something? So now bill destroyer of souls mass murder has a tiny little garden snake that just chills in his top hat

Finally, an answer to the question, 'would Bill still love Dipper if he was a worm?'

Turns out it's yes, but he's pretty miffed about it. Now he has to wait until the dang thing dies PLUS wait time to have a half-decent conversation again.

[wheneverfeasible]

Wiggly Wednesday?

The brain worms are here again.

I honestly hate Christmas and avoid doing too much for it. However, an idea came to me suddenly and I can’t stop thinking about…

Secret Santa Steddie AU.

In one of Steve’s high school classes senior year, they’re assigned a Secret Santa project. They all put their names in a Santa hat and have to draw one out (returning it for another if it’s their own) and that’s the person they have to secretly give a gift to, either homemade or purchased, but there’s a cap of like…whatever the equivalent of $20 today is back then. Idk.

This is supposed to be a team building type of exercise, something to foster camaraderie, after say maybe a huge argument/fight broke out between Tommy and his group and the Freak, Eddie Munson, as well as some other nerds. Steve is exhausted and doesn’t care for Tommy’s bullshittery anymore, so he didn’t really get involved, though Eddie did throw a few digs his way. Which was hurtful but probably deserved.

Anyways, Steve draws out Eddie’s name.

For the next week or so the last fifteen minutes of class are devoted to questionnaires and such where the students answer questions about themselves directly or they fill in answers to widely asked questions, all used to let the Secret Santas learn about their recipients. Some people take it more seriously than others.

Steve gets to know more about Eddie, who is more blasé about it all, obviously not expecting anyone to give him something good (if they give him anything at all) since he has no friends in the class and most people don’t like him. So Steve, who has never paid Eddie any amount of attention before in the past but has been now and finds himself intrigued, starts observing Eddie outside of class.

Steve knows he could buy Eddie something music related. An easy cop-out gift. But the more he observes Eddie, the more he gets to see the tiny cracks in the Freak persona whenever he spies on him, sees the nerdy but also kind person beneath the leather jacket. And…okay…maybe he starts to develop a sort of crush without realizing that’s what happens.

Maybe he bribes other nerds about Hellfire Club and Eddie and makes certain they don’t squeal about him asking (he doesn’t realize he comes off as threatening, he just thinks he’s being urging), maybe he hears Eddie mention things and then he goes and asks Dustin what they mean, learning it’s from a book series about midgets and some jewelry or whatever, and so an idea forms.

While shuttling the kids about after school, Steve asks Will if he’d be willing to draw something for him, which Steve would pay him for. Will, obviously excited because it’s his first commission job and Steve pays him fairly, agrees.

(Steve may also purchase a patch at the record store they stop at—Will’s request as he wants to buy something for Jonathan—because it reminds him of Eddie, but that doesn’t matter.)

Yadda yadda ya, it’s time to exchange gifts. The teacher has allowed them to drop them off leading up to the Friday before winter vacation to keep the mystery alive.

When Eddie gets his, he’s expecting something more like a prank gift. Instead, he’s gifted a colored drawing (sadly not enough time for a painting) of Eddie dressed as someone named something like Spider or Arrow Gone or whatever, Steve doesn’t really know, but it’s him fighting off a horde of monster things with a flaming eyeball in the background and further back is an erupting volcano.

Steve doesn’t know what the hell is going on, not really able to absorb the massive info dump Dustin gave him, but Will assured Steve that the dude was cool and the battle depicted was awesome and important when he dropped off his old yearbook for model reference. Will’s opinion was enough for Steve of course. He just hoped Eddie liked it, and the patch that he rolled up with the picture.

Eddie is, of course, gobsmacked and trying his hardest not to show it. He scans the classroom to try to figure out who could have given him such an amazing gift, but no one even looks at him. There’s no way he would ever suspect the truth.

Steve ended up getting a can of Farrah Fawcett spray, which everyone laughed at and assumed was a joke gift for a jock, but Steve noticed a small twitch of a smile on Tommy’s face, the only one besides Dustin now who knows his secret.

Later, Eddie’s battle vest is adorned with the patch he received in his gift, a red and black Leviathan cross, but Steve doesn’t know what happened to the drawing. He hopes it didn’t get trashed.

It’s not until later, after everything with Vecna and recovering what was salvageable from the trailer, that he found the picture safely secured behind a glass frame hidden in Eddie’s room. It’s only then that Steve realizes that he might have been a little bit in love with Eddie “the Freak” Munson all this time.

~

Aaaaaaaah sorry this is a little bit of a nebulous ending here. Does this story follow canon and Eddie is dead, never knowing who his Secret Santa is? Or is Eddie recovering from his injuries, fated to recognize Will’s art style and thus learning the truth behind one of his most prized possessions? Who’s to say 🤷

I’m just gonna tag my perma list because I’m lazy. Anyone can be happy to consider this a tag for their own future brain worms tho!

Hostage Hotties:

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife

@everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes

[lynxgriffin]

Alphys does not want your guns, your potassiums or your tiny hats! What she DOES want it a large worm and some blueberries. These are acceptable treats.

(I would like to get Alphys a tiny little lab coat sometime though...I never see those for sale in pet costumes...)

[bones4thecats]

What If They Had A Family? - Hazbin Hotel (PT.1)

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: What If They Had A Family? (PT.1) Characters: Sir Pentious and Zestial (+ Valentino and Vox LINK) Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts

A/N: The reader in this piece is specifically referred to as female since they were written to have given birth to children. But, the pronouns will still be gender-neutral since I write in that format easier. By the way, this has gone through so much editing it's insane, so I hope you guys enjoy it!

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Minor Swearing and Death ⚠️ Spoilers for: S1 ⚠️

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Snake-Demon! Reader ; Black Mamba Snake

🐍 Sir Pentious and you met when you were children back in the 1800s

🐍 You were one of the children to a higher-ranked family in your hometown, while Pentious was under your family's thumb, much to your annoyance

🐍 He and you bonded over your love for mechanisms, especially those that have caused harm. For some weird reason, you guys would just pull a worm out of the ground and use it for an experiment, it was right there! Why not?

🐍 Due to your closeness, you and the former human had gotten married and begun to start your family quite early on in life, maybe around your early 20s of so

🐍 As you both aged, so did your children, though they sadly passed away earlier in life due to catching a then-dangerous illness, scarlet fever

🐍 Pentious had involved himself to much into his inventions afterwards that when you both had died, your envy of people's happy lives and his sins for his inventions ended up banishing you both to hell

🐍 You guys had made your way through a lot, and when he came home elated with the news that Vox had recruited him to spy on the Hotel and detect any kind of information from Alastor, you had started to get a hint angry. Why was he believing the words of a master manipulator? Who knows...

🐍 When he was found out, you were so close to going to V-Tower and ripping that moth-dick-sucking bastard a new ass

🐍 But, your husband had held you back and had asked you what you thought about redemption, you know, getting to join Heaven and maybe see your long-lost children once again

🐍 Jumping at the idea, your tiny hat on your head's eye had sparkles as Pentious' had tiny hearts as you hugged him and gave him love-filled words

🐍 It took a lot of work on your behalf, due to being a fairly aggressive person, but, when your husband had gunned it for his ship, you went right after him and hugged him tightly as he mumbled the final word you thought you'd ever hear of his; Fire.

🐍 As you awoke in a brighter land, you had looked around and noticed your husband, grabbing his hand you allowed your smoother-feeling fangs to be revealed as two angels stared in shock and glee

🐍 Wait- angels?!

" You must be redeemed souls! This is so cool! I'm Emily, one of the Seraphs of Heaven, it's so nice to meet you guys! " " Uhm- it's nice to meet you as well, my dear. I'm Y/N and this is my husband Sir Pentious. "

🐍 While Emily had taken you and Pentious away from Sera to give her some space to think, she smiled at you and you sighed when you heard the echo of a young girl's voice, your daughter's voice come out

" Y/N? Someone seems to be calling for you. "

🐍 Hearing a deflating noise and sniff coming from your dearest, you looked at him and saw he was crying as he held onto a small being, a young girl with his matching color scheme but a physical form that matched you

🐍 It was your daughter... your oldest one

" Mom/Papa! You're both here! (M/N) and (F/N) and gonna be so happy when they see you guys! Come on! "

🐍 Tears pricked your eyes as her cute slit pupils looked into your with the same sparkles as she held when she passed away so many years ago

🐍 At that moment, you fell to your knees and pulled your husband with you, hugging your daughter and him tightly as Emily squealed internally at the cute scene

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Insect-Demon! Reader ; Firefly / Lightning Bug

🕷️ Due to being from multiple dozens of years before really anyone left alive in Hell, you and Zestial had a very special bond from life; marriage

🕷️ You and him had a fairly well-received settlement when alive, and that had carried on into death

🕷️ But, there was one thing that you hadn't really thought about for a while; your children, two boys and two girls

🕷️ After you had died, all four of your children had survived until their old ages, and when they finally fell into the same plot hole that you and their father had, you graciously accepted them into your family's now shared domain in this retched land

🕷️ Your husband, Zestial, was an overlord while you had the same amount of power and just never really saw fit to use it, after all, you didn't have much to care for other than your family's safety

🕷️ Zestial could take the reins here

🕷️ One night, he had come home carrying something inside of his flesh-jacket, making you cock an eyebrow as your wings slightly shook, allowing a dimly-lit green light to emerge from your midsection and tiny 'tail'

" Mine own loveth, what doth thee has't inside of thy doublet? " " I shalt showeth thee. But, thee might not but gage to not obtaineth thy ang'r and showeth t to me. " " I crosseth mine own heart and desire to kicketh the bucket again, and I'll sticketh a partisan through mine own chest. "

🕷️ Opening the flesh-covering a small rodent-demon, specifically a chinchilla, had come outside, their large and silver-coated ears sticking to their head in slight fear at the sight of a large insect-demon such as yourself

🕷️ The antenna on your head slightly raised as you stared down at the appearing hell-born, how in the name of Satan did a child manage to get here?

" Zestial, wherefore is th're a bawbling issue standing in front of me? Prithee bid me thee didst not abuduct that gent... " " Oh marry nay. I wast just taking a stroll aft'r the latest ov'rl'rd meeting and hadst cometh across the young thing standing th're while mumbling in our tongue. I couldn't just leaveth that gent th're, yond'd beest far to malapert. "

🕷️ Smiling at your husband and kneeling down to look the child in their large black eyes, you then asked him the question that would make your family even larger than it was before;

" Wouldst thee liketh to stayeth with us, young sir? "

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Link to Valentino and Vox Post:

What Are They Like As Parents? - Hazbin Hotel

[blingblong55]

The tiny problems- 141

Based on a request:

I've had this brain worm for the last 2 weeks and I cant get it out. Do you think you could write something with Cod G/t? I'm thinking like a fic with a tiny!y/n, ghost, soap and gaz and giant!price. Maybe something like Price finding little borrowers in his office taking things off his desk? Thank you sm! I love your writing so much!! P.s. I might be sending this same cod g/t kind of prompt to other authors as well. I WILL BE CHANGING THE PROMPT! I just want to see everyone's take on cod g/t. So if you're uncomfortable with multiple authors also writing something maybe similar to this, I understand and you can just ignore this. Thank you🩷🩷 ---- GN!Reader, tiny/giant au, tiny!RN, tiny!Soap, tiny!Gaz, tiny!Ghost, gentle giant!Price, fluff, platonic!relationship ----

A/N: I Fell in love with this idea so…here I am

It is unique, to be Price and live in a comfortable home and have his kind of problems. He lived alone, far from society, and in the woods, it was cosy. Cosy cabin, with delicious food, and a nice fireplace. What more could a man his height need?

Every day, he would sit on his desk, and read the local newspaper and some books. He would laugh or shake his head when he would read some paragraph. Little did he know, he had some of the cutest and tiniest infestations in his home. Ghost, Gaz, Soap and R/N, tiny humans that live in the woods and who have found a home in the Giant Man's home, Price. As the day went on for John, he noticed a few things move around his home. His coffee mug, reading glasses and bonnie hat, all moved around his home.

At night, he heard something move and he rushed to look around his home for any intruder. And then he saw it, his hat moved across his desk and a little foot could still be seen. He sighs, a baseball bat in hand, he lifts the hat and the four tiny humans scream. Price is about to swing the bat when he puts it down, "What the hell-?" he kneels and looks at the tiny humans on his desk. Soap has R/N hidden behind him, Ghost guarding Gaz. "What are you doing here?" Price asks softly. "We needed shelter for the winter." Ghost responds.

"Shelter?"

"Yes, the winter is coming and our home was ruined." Soap says.

"hm, and you have been without a home so…you came to mine?"

"Yes and we are sorry for not saying a word but we didn't expect a.. well-" Ghost replies.

"Giant?"

"Yes, a giant like yourself to live here," Gaz says

"Who is the other little one?" Price asks about you.

"Oh this is R/N, they are a little shy."

From behind Soap, you wave at Price. "Look, you all look old enough to be adults, so we'll make a deal, I let you live here as long as you don't go moving my stuff around or disturbing my peace."

"You got a deal," Ghost took his hand out, Price confused gave his index finger to shake hands with Ghost. "So, what are all of your names?" "I'm Ghost, this is Gaz, Soap and R/N." "Right, well, good night." Price walks back out, probably thinking this was just some weird dream after eating that soup for dinner.

By morning, he woke up to the smell of wood burning and after a rush to the fireplace, he found the four tiny humans all cuddled together near a small fire. He sighs and goes to his room for something to cover them all up with. After looking through clean laundry, he finds an old scarf, which he then places on you all and sighs. He cooked breakfast, went out of his way served a small plate for the four humans to share and then whistled. Soap being the first to get startled wakes the others up. "Oi, I made breakfast, you either come or I give it to the dog." And just like that, he found himself helping the four tiny humans to the table.

Days turned to weeks and months. Price eventually stopped rolling his eyes at Soap's jokes or Gaz's questions and soon found himself making little chairs, spoons, plates, beds, and ladders. He dedicated a room all to the four humans who brought purpose to his life once more. As the harsh January winter arrives, he finds that his little companions begin to sleep in his bed. When asked, R/N responded, "You bring us some comfort and…your bed is the cosiest and warmest of all."

These little friends he created became his lifeline, if he was sick, if he was tired, sad, happy, or emotional, they were there for him and him for them. Soon enough, when Spring arrives, Price lets them know it is okay to stay, that they have become a part of his daily life and he would enjoy their company all year round and when he says it, Ghost appears with an offering.

A handmade scarf, made from the tiny hands of his tiny and funny friends. Now, as he finds new things he is passionate about, he also finds new things to love about the world around him. For example, he loves that now, he doesn't have an empty home, there are people he can finally talk to and even though his problems seem different to theirs, the problems all seem to be equal in some ways.

Tiny problems, now becoming his reason to smile and laugh and even the very reason why he finds himself learning how to cook and wrap birthday or Christmas gifts. In this world, there are many problems and sometimes, if John knows he is looking too deep into them, he can take a step back and look at his four favourite tiny problems.

Tags:

@warenai @liyanahelena @avaleigh16 @the-royal-bee @enarien @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06

[wormgoddess]

I got a new book today!

I am in love with the simplistically detailed art style!

It is accurate and philosophical too!

Highly recommend!

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 3

General ISAT Spoilers possible below

"Oh hey, welcome back Sif! You're just in time, Bonnie's finishing up dinner now"

"Where's Loop? They shouldn't miss dinner!... Wait... Can Loop actually eat food?" (You pause... Mira brings up a very good point actually...)

"Uhh… I'm actually not sure... But they said don't wait up, they uh... have some stuff to think about." (You respond, worried about them, but just glad to be back with your family for now. You take a seat at the table next to Isabeau, placing your hand in his and entwining your fingers, laying your head on his shoulder with a content sigh... wait... why is everyone staring at you?)

"Uhh… S-Sif?..." (Isa asked, you could feel he was incredible tense all of the sudden, his palm soaking wet, even shaking a little... OH STARS! You quickly pull away, face burning darker as you realize what just happened. It was a leftover reflex from your former life. It was so natural you didn't even think about doing it. Mirabelle just gave a cute giggle and smile, almost as if she was enjoying one of her silly romance books.)

"I didn't expect you to be so forward Siffrin." (Odile noted with a raised brow and a bit of a smirk, seeming to at least be glad the two of you were progressing in the relationship.)

"I-I-... I'm sorry Isa I-I... I don't know, I wasn't thinking..." (You have no way to explain the actions you just took, just hiding your face in your cloak like you used to, tipping your hat forward as well to hide your shame.)

"N-No it's okay!... I-It... was really nice actually..." (Isa was blushing just as brightly, slowly extending his hand, inviting you to place yours in it again. You know things didn't progress this quickly before, but... it couldn't hurt to get a tiny head start, could it? You return your hand to his, the both of you just flustered and looking away, still holding hands... the entire display must look terribly stupid... but it was worth it.)

"MALANGA FRITTERS TIME!" (Bonnie shouts as they barge in, holding a large plate of your favorite dish... stopping and staring at the awkward scene before them)

"... Why's everyone being weird?" ---------------------------------------------------------

(You sigh some to yourself as you walked through the hall that night, it was a long day with a lot of surprises, so it was nice to finally have a moment to yourself, heading for the living space to relax on your own, only to find...)

"Siffrin... I don't mean to force you, but considering everything that happened recently, I think you'll understand why I feel the need to pry. You've been acting strange, and not in the expected way. Do you care to explain?" (Odile... always so crabbing smart... She sat there with a serious yet caring face, and she clearly wouldn't let this go easily... Oh boy, how to handle this?)

"Are you sure you wanna open this can of worms right now?"

"I promise you I won't tell the other's unless I absolutely feel the need to, if that would make you feel better."

"... I watched you die Odile... I watched you take your last breath... 30 years from now." (Odile's expression quickly shifted from studious to shocked, horrified even. She takes a while to process this, and will likely need longer than she'd allow herself)

"Tell you what... bring a bottle, we'll have some fun with it, hehe~" (You instruct, shifting to a bittersweet look, and 'winking'. This seems to relieve at least some of Odile's worry, nodding and getting up to find a trusty bottle of vodka.)

[mutant-distraction]

Bag-worm that crafted a "witch hat" from a rolled leaf.

These tiny architects are found worldwide and are known for creating unique protective bags from leaves, twigs, and silk.

📸 Girish Gowda