#running worm

[octoling-wearing-gauges]

will the real lars fans please stand up

[7jlord]

The Hot Dog Chef And The Little Green Worm - Hungry And Angry.👇

This funny design consist of story telling and imagery it's about a hot dog chef who is the fastest chef in the land running off of a plate running away from it's foe the little green worm who is hungry an angry gives chase with utensils in hand.

[moth-nautilus]

First artfight attack! Im gonna attack so many people this year get ready

Characters are Emergency Exit from @worldsewage !

[strawberri-draws]

shuichi posting

[cephiwyrm]

NEW KING SALMONID. NEW KING SALMONID!!!!!!!

[mtndw-whteout]

you’re just a kid.

[sleepy-steve]

🧠🪱 Wiggly Wednesday Thursday 🧠 🪱

thank you for tagging me @stervrucht 🖤

no pressure tags: @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @stevesbipanic and of course anyone else that would like to ♡

thinking about Steve and Eddie who, after going through rounds of physical therapy after everything, continue to work out together because Steve obviously loves it and loves having a friend to work out with. and Eddie notices the difference in his stamina when he gets back to performing on stage. (and if Eddie likes to watch Steve work out a little bit, and likes Steve coming over to help his form more than a little bit, well that’s his business.) but Steve takes a dance class and shakes up his usual warmup, leaving Eddie with some… thoughts.

***

“Okay, Munson,” Steve says, pulling his arm across his body for a shoulder stretch. “You ready?”

“Ready to be tortured? Always,” Eddie jokes. It was their thing. Eddie acts like he hates being there, but he still shows up every other day to their local gym in Indianapolis. And he won’t ever deny the benefits he’s noticed since starting their exercise regime. He's faster on stage, doesn't get winded near as easily, holding those screaming notes without feeling like his lungs will explode. Little did he know that today his joke would come to be true.

Steve liked most kinds of exercise. He was a sporty guy. He liked the pull and stretch of his muscles, the feeling of accomplishment after achieving a new goal, that delicious soreness the day after a really good workout. But mostly he loved trying new things. He’d give anything half a chance if he thought it might be fun. Which is how he ended up at a dance-aerobics class the week prior, finding himself having a lot of fun, blushing furiously when the women in the class complimented how quickly he picks up the steps.

He went back three more times that week. Part of his enjoyment came from the new warmup he was taught in the class. Steve’s usual warmup consisted of basic stretches and a light jog, covering all bases to ensure he didn’t get injured, but not very exciting.

This, however, was far more enjoyable. Steve found himself sinking deep into stretches he didn't know he had flexibility for, and moving his hips to a beat, ultimately just having way more fun with the warmup. And it was about to become a huge problem for Eddie.

Steve pops his headphones over his ears, the tape deck tucked securely in his shorts pocket. He bends over, inhaling deeply as the song starts, rising up with his hands overhead, exhaling as he rolls his wrists, hips moving side to side with the beat. His already short cropped t-shirt rises, showing off a good amount of his chest. He lets his arms come down, bending over again, feeling the pull in his hamstrings. Gripping his elbows, he lets the top half of his body hang, swinging from side to side, his hamstrings fully stretched out.

Eddie looks up from his own basic stretching, shocked to see Steve fully bent over, because hey, since when was he so flexible? With Metallica blaring through his own headphones, Eddie just stares, completely forgetting where he was at in his warmup.

Steve lets his hands drop, moving to one foot, back to the centre, then the other foot. Ass just up in the air, his shorts way too tight. Eddie swallows. He’d been denying his crush for months at this point, and good god this was not helping.

Rolling his shoulders as he stands up, Steve lets his hands travel down his bare thighs, sinking into a squat with his back arched and head tilted back. Eddie's eyes are wide as he watches those tight little shorts with the little cut-ins on the sides ride up, showing far more of Steve's glorious hairy thighs than Eddie can handle. Steve drops his head forward, hunching his shoulders as he moves back to standing. He repeats the motions, and Eddie wishes he had the strength to pull his stare away from Steve's ass.

Seeing Steve's head tilted back and his back arched is sending Eddie insane. Like, he geninely thinks he might evaporate on the spot if he keeps watching. But he just can't look away.

Turning himself sideways, Steve has one foot stepped out in front of the other, legs perfectly straightened into a triangle shape, bent over his front leg. Just when Eddie thinks he’s about to get up and end his suffering, Steve lowers himself down into a lunge. His little shorts definitely way too small and tight for the movement, Steve lunges back and forth, fingertips resting on the ground on either side of his front foot. Eddie watches as the t-shirt rides up with each lunge, the desire to get his lips and tongue all over Steve's chest overwhelming him.

Shaking himself, Eddie tries to remember which shoulder stretch he was up to. He attempts something close to a stretch, but he can’t be sure he's doing it right, because Steve has lowered himself to the ground, front leg bent and back leg perfectly straight, and is fucking thrusting into the ground. If he were to ask Steve, he’d find out this was a hip flexor stretch. But Eddie’s forgotten how to form words entirely, suddenly imagining nineteen different ways he wants to get dicked down by the man before him.

Eddie suffers in silence, heart racing in his chest, watching as Steve repeats the movements on his other side. He prays that the torture ends soon, that they can just get to the workout, and Eddie can go back to pretending he doesn't want to ride Steve until his thighs give out. But Eddie gets no such luck.

Steve has moved into some kind of triangle position, hands on the ground, legs straight, and of fucking course, his ass in the air. Eddie marvels at how straight the shape is, only for a moment, because then Steve is lifting his heels up and down in turn, and jesus christ those tiny little shorts are just riding up, and Eddie can see a hint of Steve's ass peeking out. His jaw drops. He may actually explode.

Just when Eddie's thinking he can't take much more of this, Steve lowers himself down, knees spread wide, arms stretched out in front of him and head tucked down. A wild and rushed series of thoughts fly across Eddie's mind, all centred around Steve kneeling down in front of him. Eddie needs to get it together quickly.

As Steve brings himself back up to the triangle position, walking his feet to meet his hands and rolling his spine up, shoulders and head rolling back last, he sees Eddie taking off for his warmup jog. Assuming that he probably just took too long with his new warmup, Steve shrugs it off and starts his jog shortly after.

Eddie hits his personal best in several weights that day, desperately trying to expend his excess energy in some way. He barely registers the wins, mind still stuck on Steve and his perfect ass in all those new positions. He almost dissolves on the spot when Steve claps him on the shoulder in congratuations.

At the end of their session, Eddie takes a freezing cold shower and prays for the sweet release of death.

[i-just-like-crk]

Let us scream into the void for our batshit insane jester into the void together-

What do you think about Shadow Milk Cookie who once had a lover during his days as a cookie free from corruption, and when that day comes where he wreaks havoc onto Earthbread, his lover stood against him and lives freely during his imprisonment.

To see their fragments in the present, whether it's their name or their achievement as one of the cookies who went against a beast... Or to know how they're known as a cookie who loves a beast until their end.

(can I be 🍡 anon?)

Shadow Milk Cookie does not take your betrayal well.

Not agreeing with his philosophies is one thing, but acting out against him— helping those wretched witches seal him away— he won’t forget it. He stews in his rage, replays the moments of your treachery over and over again. He doesn’t blame you, he blames the witches. Those cowardly, despicable, rotten farces of gods. You are incredibly misguided by them, that’s all it is. You just need a little shove in the right direction, and once he escapes, he’ll happily provide that.

While Shadow Milk Cookie does not think you are at fault, he does believe that your actions warrant some sort of punishment. He pours himself over this during his imprisonment; ways to get back at you, make you suffer a little before he feels you’ve earned his forgiveness. Nothing he thinks of ever feels severe enough, there is nothing you could possibly do to mend his broken heart. (Perhaps if you stay by his side; spend the rest of eternity repenting and groveling, proving your loyalty and remorse, never estranging yourself from him again… maybe then, he’ll consider taking pity on you.)

After he breaks free from imprisonment, he’s all smiles and theatrics. Naturally, it’s a deceptive cover. Beneath his conniving grin is a deep-seated resentment. He tears the silver tree asunder with a manic smile and a burning desire for revenge. There are many things he intends to reclaim:

First of all, the other half of his soul jam.

He’ll run circles around that false little hero— as he finds that Pure Vanilla is surprisingly susceptible to corruption. It’s an excellent warm-up after laying dormant for so long, and Shadow Milk Cookie intends on enjoying every second of that thief’s descent into madness.

Then, once that’s out of the way, he’ll come for his silly, misguided, deceitful little lover next.

[fhtagn-and-tentacles]

13 LAMBTOWN WORM

by Andréa Boloch

[barksbog]

Slug and Velvetworms - Preorder Time!!

i´m doing a final run of preorders for these before retiring the printed designs and my old slug pattern alltogether.

these guys are Big and Large

weighted!

either all the leg or no leg

soft

handmade by me

could live in your home

-------

only a limited amount of preorder slots are available per color and they will close all together before friday the 27th!

adopt them in my shop - barksbog.squarespace.com

[wormdebut]

Growing Pains

A little Drabble for the Stranger Things Writers Guild.

Rated a hard T (we all know where this is going let’s be so for real.) | Word Count 242 | Prompt growing pains

——

In retrospect, Steve should be scared. He should be terrified.

-

He had settled into bed tonight, content to stare at his blank walls as he does every night, since—everything.

He found himself zoned out, thinking about the myriad of ‘what ifs’ that so frequently plagued his mind these days.

What if he hadn’t left Dustin and Eddie alone? What if he had never gone back to help Nancy and Jonathan in the first place? What if he had said what he wanted to say to Eddie before he left having said nothing?

He had been stewing on that last one, as he was wont to do, when something crashed through his god damned window.

He should be scared, probably. He should be annoyed by the glass that’s now covering his floor.

He’s none of that though, because he’s staring at Eddie Munson crouched and curled in on himself, perching on the balls of his feet. He’s staring at Eddie, who looks up at him with red eyes and fangs, which—he’s not even gonna unpack what that’s doing to him.

“W—where have you been?” He breaths. Trying to process any of this as Eddie stands.

Steve feels like the world is crumbling beneath him as he watches Eddie unfurl wings. Big, black things. Sorta feathery, sorta venous, entirely hot—which—Steves not gonna unpack that either.

Eddie smirks, those red eyes glinting, running a tongue over his pointed teeth. “Sorry baby, growing pains.”

[innominaterifter]

I wanted to tell you about my ADHD tactics for running, but I’m busy preparing for one sortie. So for now, just photos from the run, and a story about tactics and the results of the sortie (if it is successful) later.

[crazylittlejester]

Fireworks

Summary: Wars doesn’t like fireworks very much at all

(A little writing exercise I wrote as I try to slowly come back from my break from writing. My apologies for spelling mistakes or oddly autocorrected works, I’m dyslexic 💔)

lmao *yeets this into the void*

Warriors’s hands were clamped tightly over his ears and he struggled to keep his breathing steady as he sat tucked away in some tight alley corner, eyes squeezed shut and knees brought up close to his chest. He shouldn’t have run away from the others, he’d left them in the busy streets of HIS own Castle Town with no idea where they were going, but the moment the first explosion of colors lit up the night sky his heart had frozen in his chest and he’d bolted.

He wasn’t going to cry, he was NOT. It was just fireworks. It was just fireworks because of course they’d managed to land in his fucking era the night of the anniversary of the end of the fucking war. It had officially been a full eight years, he shouldn’t be reacting this… this STUPIDLY to the loud explosions all around him. It had been eight years since the worst time of his life, he’d gotten better, he HAD. He just needed a minute to pull himself together before he’d head back to the others and beg for their forgiveness for having abandoned them.

Another round of fireworks shot into the sky and Warriors had to bite his lip to keep from crying out, but nothing could stop the frustrated tears from rolling down his cheeks. He couldn’t seem to stop shaking and he could feel his heart beating so fast in his chest he swore he could feel it against his ribs. Thinking was becoming harder by the second, he was so scared out of his mind that his thoughts stopped being rational and were just yelling at him to take cover and to hide, and to get somewhere safe.

Mask… Mask had to get somewhere safe too. Where was he?

Warriors’s head shot up and his eyes opened wide in panic as he frantically searched around him in the alley for his little brother.

No. He forced himself to take in a deep breath to clear his thoughts, ignoring the way he could smell the thick smoke in the air. Mask wasn’t here. Mask was fine because he wasn’t here. The kid had gone home after the end of the war.

Except, no, he WAS there. Older, sure, but Mask WAS with him again. And he wasn’t taking cover and Warriors couldn’t see him. He wasn’t safe.

Warriors tried to push himself up off the ground but the alley spun around him and his legs gave out from underneath him, sending the captain crashing back down to the stone ground with a small whine.

More explosions rang above him and he pressed his hands into his ears again as he curled up as much as he could on the ground. Some war hero he was, cowering in an alley and crying because he didn’t know where his brother was, when HE was the one who’d bolted. HE was the one who left Time and all the others behind. And there was nothing he could do but wait it out because he couldn’t even pick himself up off the jagged stones pressing into his body.

Some evil little voice in his head told him he was incredibly vulnerable here like this without his armor, that anyone could come up behind him and hurt him, and all he could do was curl up tighter and bang his head into the ground a couple times.

A hand slipping itself between his head and the stone street scared him half to death and Warriors let out a strangled scream. He twisted himself around and did his best to scramble away, but the explosions kept firing off and it was so loud and it was so overwhelming and he couldn’t breathe.

He fell flat on his back. And he stayed there, staring up at the sky, ignoring the ash that rained down around him because surely he was about to die.

The person said something he couldn’t understand, they repeated it a few times, but the captain couldn’t hear a thing other than the blood rushing in his ears and the explosions all around. He couldn’t breathe and his limbs felt like lead.

Warriors’s vision was swimming in front of him and he felt too exhausted and worn out to fight the gentle hands that carefully scooped him off the ground, pulling him close to a warm person. He was still shaking in fear and fighting for every gasp of air, but he felt something in him relax when his head was pressed right against a steady heart beat and the person’s other hand covered his other ear, cautious of putting too much pressure over where his earrings hung. There was only one person alive who’d dare to hold him so gently.

He wasn’t alone anymore. He’d been alone for so many long years, but he wasn’t alone anymore.

Warriors reached out and tightly gripped Time’s tunic with a trembling hand, and his little brother pulled him impossibly closer.

“I got you, Captain.” Time must’ve been shouting for Warriors to have been able to hear his voice through Time’s own hands and the fireworks going off above them. “You’re safe.”

[javelinbk]

Fans await the arrival of the Beatles at London Airport, 22nd February 1964 - part 1 (part 2, part 3, part 4)

[melodysbookhaven]

“Because books, my friends, are true magic bound between two covers.”

Dolly Parton, Run, Rose, Run

[meowmeow1meow]

Thomas and Emily fleeing Nilbog could be cool to see illustrated and isn't a common topic for fanart!

thanks this was a fun request i havent drawn any of these characters before