#she LOVES to shower

[barb-l]

Love that Charlie was so protective of Vaggie during the whole battle against the angels. She was literally following her around the whole time. She was so hyper aware of her, being Vaggie's shield, especially since Carmilla pointed out that angels like Vaggie have a bad habit of forgetting to defend themselves. One of the criticisms against Chaggie is that Vaggie dedicates too much of herself to Charlie, but the thing is she's only like that in the first place because Charlie loves her just as much. Vaggie needs to work on looking out for herself ofc(they're already dating in the show. They need something to develop from duh) but it really makes so much sense for Vaggie to be as devoted as she is when it's a woman like Charlie she's in love with.

[pokeberry5]

girl experiences gender euphoria and is immediately slammed by grief

for @litttlittt <3. this was supposed to be a portrait of caroline hill, but litta mentioned tim looking like janet when dressed as caroline and identity issues and angst and things spiraled

something about tim not knowing if he's his mother's child or bruce's or neither's.

figuring out the looks:

i wanted janet to have that poofy 70s hair

[zeravmeta]

sometimes im normal and then sometimes i think about how robin had been on the run for 20 years starting at age fucking 8 and when we meet her she's actively aiding in the destabilization of a country and gets so many people killed but one of the first things luffy says about her is that she isnt a bad person. I particularly think about her first appearance and her interactions with crocodile, because crocodile is (much like other OP characters) kind of a ridiculous man in his dramatic overcoat and his giant pets he feeds people to and. do you think robin was emulating him in that way with her own personal giant dramatic coat and cowboy fit. on the run for 20 years ever since she was a child, having to make herself useful to people so that they wouldnt suddenly abandon her, emulating her boss not only to gain his favor but also to try and appear intimidating herself? how many times had she done something like this. robin is a character who presents herself in so many ways, always wrapping herself up in an air of mystery and intrigue but shes also so deeply childish, she constantly makes morbid jokes about her situation because the last lesson one of the only people who cared about her gave her was that what else is there to do but laugh. to never stop laughing. having lived on the run she knows that an assassin is most effective when their weapon is concealed and yet she freely shows off her powers just to gain their trust. to play with luffy and chopper and usopp. how gratifying do you think robin felt when nami called her a sister. in skypiea she's constantly providing tactical assistance in how to survive in the wilderness but she's afraid when luffy and usopp start laughing at her suggestions. lets make a bonfire, robin! we're out camping, this is what you're supposed to do! she freezes in the same way she did when the kids on ohara laughed at her but even when the straw hats happily invite her to party she still stands on the edge, sitting further from the rest. she doesn't know what to do there. she had no will to live after luffy had saved her but one of the truly happiest moments she has is when she's not even cheering, just sitting in awe seeing the ancient city in the sky. was she thinking of her friends then? she never had friends her own age, just scholars multiple times her age and yet they were still her friends, who would never get to see this sight. when aokiji reappears and nearly kills them, shes stonefaced upon waking up that the straw hats even considered having a sleepover in her room. because they were worried about her. she's never had a sleepover, and it's something so simple to the straw hats, that of course they wouldn't see their friend as someone to use. she's never escaped the headspace she was in when she had to run away from the mountains of corpses of a burning ohara. the first and last thing her mother ever said to her was that she didnt know her, no matter how much she wanted to embrace her daughter. she never had the chance to say goodbye. she never had the chance to grow up.

sometimes i think about how nico robin was in many ways raised by her friends in the straw hats with their love for her and hauve covid

[redstonedust]

ended up 10 years back on my blog and expereinced some extreme whiplash from the way we used to draw HS characters

[justaz]

annabeth was complaining to percy one day about how her cabins showers are always freezing and pining!percy was just like “my cabins showers are always warm, you could…use them…if you…want… :]” and pining!annabeth takes him up on it and now she’s been using his showers for years and every time percy has to sit there and concentrate on making the water warm just for her but he’ll never tell her bc she’d feel bad and go back to her own freezing showers so she just thinks that cabin 3 has the best showers when in all actuality the whole camps plumbing is fucking ass and percy is so in love with her it’s ridiculous

[tubchunk]

wdym that everyone who stayed back on the island stayed back for love. wdym everyone that ran to save themselves also did it for their love for each other. wdym people tried their best to save the people they'd spent two weeks fighting cuz at the end there was love THERE WAS LOVE.

thats what the qsmp has always been about. it's love. all kinds of love. and what you're willing to do for that love. its love its love its love

[sojutrait]

jaimie kaminski for @squea's corn 😁🧛‍♂️

she/her

bisexy

freegan, romantic, loves outdoors - mt komo. sightseeker aspiration

originally from oasis springs! after hs she worked the corporate life for a while, hated it, so she sold all her belongings and bought a van where she travels around 😁

runs a lil blog where she talks about her ~van life~ adventures. never in one spot too long

hates consumerism - has like 3 fits to her name and is proud

corn's friend? lover? enemy? all of the above? who knows!

[baeshijima]

mmm thoughts of private executioner!blade, who is high priestess!kafka's bodyguard. well, more like her guard dog, as many fearfully seem to think.

he is aloof and gruff and rough around the edges, his name capturing it perfectly. when in the eyes of the public he either keeps to himself or stands ready by kafka's side, but when out he lurks in the shadows ready and waiting to carry out her death orders.

you, yourself, haven't had very many pleasant encounters with him... if you can even call them that. that being said, you haven't had many pleasant encounters with anyone. notorious for your... less than pleasant disposition, for a lack of better words, you have more people who'd rather see you run through than those you can call a friend.

in a dog-eat-dog world, you had no choice but to protect yourself. that, however, ultimately became your demise.

"oh? so you're the one sent to kill me. can't say i'm all that surprised."

standing before you is the feared executioner. his sword is tucked inside the sheath attached to his hip, that ever-present dark swirl of an aura stifling the air. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to silently stare down at your slumped and worn-out form. you find that his gaze doesn't bother you; rather, it's oddly comforting knowing someone will see you in your last moments.

"i've never asked you for a favour before, so this will be my first and last request for you." in all honesty, you're not sure where this chattiness stems from. considering you're currently in a holding cell under the crime of attempted murder towards kafka (a poisoned wine you were most definitely framed for, though you can't say you were surprised) and are awaiting for your turn to be under the guillotine for your public execution, you probably should be a little desperate towards the private executioner in front of you.

and yet, your mind is nothing if not peaceful.

with a huff, you relay your request, "can you make sure it's quick? painless, preferably, but i'd rather you just get it over and done with."

silence blankets the cold chambers. moisture accumulated along the cobble ceiling drip in a steady rhythm, like a clock ticking away the seconds. it's unnerving, almost, how there is not a single sound other than your impending countdown.

"why?" comes his low mutter, effectively causing a ripple within the stagnant air. you almost think you misheard him, but his following words cease the thought, "why won't you ask me for help?"

had it not been for the abrupt shuffle and clanging against the metal bars, you would have never looked up to see him in your last moments.

his scarred hands gripping the metal until his knuckles turn a ghastly white and blood dripping from his palms is what greets your sight. as your gaze slowly trails up, you almost let loose a laugh of disbelief; who would have thought blade, the infamous guard dog of the high priestess, could make such a desperate expression? one looking as though his whole world crumbled before him, in which he can do nothing but sit and watch.

(you will never know of the anger and desperation which coursed through his veins the moment he heard of your predicament. had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. but you're not anyone else; you're you — unapologetically, wholeheartedly. it didn't take him long to hunt down those behind it, cutting them down without thought and putting an end to their miserable lives. he rushed as soon as he could when kafka gave him the order, no thoughts other than you, you, you, occupying his mind.

you will never know of the anguish which overcame him when he found you in such a state, your once healthy complexion and defiant gaze reduced to nothing but a tiredness which had always sat quietly behind your disposition. he's almost positive the muscle which unwillingly keeps him alive tore at the seems from your request, the acceptance in which you displayed causing his mind to go astray. even as he damn-near begs you to rely on him for help — to run away with him to some place no one knows of you and start anew there — you merely smile, resigned and peaceful.

you will never know of how much blade is willing to put on the line for you, for you never made it to see the complete and utter carnage he wrecked in your name.)

[artiststarme]

Steve couldn’t understand why the Party wanted him around. He didn’t see why anyone would want to hang around some deadbeat that peaked in high school, he certainly wouldn’t. Case in point, all of his friends were going somewhere. Dustin was a genius, Robin was brilliant, and Eddie was going to be a world famous rockstar like Freddy Mercury was. Max was healing nicely and she would be something important, Lucas was great with people so he’d have a bright future, and Mike was… passionate. El and Will were fabulous so he was sure they would amount to everything.

Why would any of them drag themselves down with Steve? Robin could choose so many other soulmates better than Steve. He couldn’t relate to being a “band geek” in high school or working full time to save money for college, he couldn’t even get into college. In his mind, anyone could be a better friend to her than he could.

And why was Eddie dating him? Beautiful, smart, strategic, funny Eddie. He could have anyone he wanted and yet he settled for Steve. No matter how many times Eddie told him he loved him and couldn’t imagine life without him, Steve couldn’t wrap his head around it. What was so special about himself that all of these people stuck around?

Nothing had changed over the years, really. He was still the neglected boy sitting on the bleachers after baseball practice, waiting for his parents to come pick him up. Even back when he was little, his parents knew he was nothing special. They’d taken the first flight out of Hawkins and had hardly looked back since.

Hell, even Steve’s friends in high school figured it out. Tommy and Carol hadn’t said a word to encourage him to stay, they sent him away with silent glares and indifferent shrugs as if being a friend to Steve was more of an effort than it was worth.

And Nancy, his first heartbreak. She dropped him like everyone else always had. As soon as another boy showed her kindness and affection, she dropped Steve like a hot potato and broke his heart on the way out the door.

Steve knew it was only a matter of time before the Party grew tired of him. Every outing, Steve watched them like it would be the last time. Because just like everyone else, they would all leave and move onto better things. And Steve would be left broken with no one to pick up the pieces.

[owari-no-suffering]

shoutout to lan wangji and luo binghe for being endlessly tormented by their love interests' mixed signals, reaching their breaking point, and then proceeding to never be normal about their (always reciprocated) crushes (turned husbands) ever again.

[enjisbf]

69 with Enji Todoroki

° Pairing: Enji Todoroki x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k words

summary: Enji finally comes home after being away, and the both of you figure out how to 69 with the height difference. Also, reader has a quirk that gives her bunny attributes (ears and tail + behaviour)

warnings: nsfw (duh), lots of pet names, oral (m+f receiving), cockdrunk reader, pussywhipped enji, fingering (fem receiving), praises, one (1) pussy pronoun, spit kink (blink and you'll miss it) and fluff at the end :3 (if i missed anything, pls tell me!)

author's note: Hi, cowpals! So, I've had this idea since yesterday morning and decided to bring it to life !! This is very much inspired by this fic by @/mybvalentine (read it if you're into Miguel because fuck it is so so so good ???) Also, this was the first time I wrote smut and english isn't my first language, so any mispells or mistakes left are my fault ;-; (tried to proofread it to the best of my abilities, but I kind of just want to post this)

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅─

Enji is a big man, in every way. He towers over you, takes up space no matter the place, his big arms are your safest place and his cock... Fuck, you just loved everything about his cock. The taste of it, the heaviness as it sits in your mouth, in between your legs. How hot it was. Just thinking about your man made you clench your thighs and your cotton tail to wag.  

Thoughts of him invaded your senses as you were preparing your shared home for his return. He had been away for a hero conference, and unfortunately you weren’t able to join him this time. Responsibilities awaited you at your own job and you had to do with being apart. It was torture for the both of you. Of course, it wasn’t the first time you were separated. However, it always felt as if time was mocking you. Every tick of the clock grinding on your eardrums and laughing as the both of you struggled with sleep without one another.  

To say you were excited for his return was an understatement. You had cooked him his favourite meal, took great care in making kuzumochi and planned on wearing his favourite lingerie set. If you were jumping up and down with your nose and tail twitching from excitement, well that was your business only. (It was in fact your business and the house cameras business, which would amuse the flame hero greatly later on).  

Just as you were drying off the last drops of water from your shower, slipping into your set of lingerie did your ears pick up the door opening. Too joyous to bother on wearing your bathrobe, you hopped and rushed to the hallway to greet your hunk of a man.  

A whoosh quickly followed the ‘Tadaima’ that left Enji’s mouth when your bodies collided. With your arms around his neck, your legs wrapped around his torso, and your cotton tail happily wagging, you found sanctuary in him once more. Head buried in his neck; you happily muttered a greeting back.  

“Okaeri, Jiji”  

A content sigh left both of your lips as he kissed the top of your head and petted the space between your bunny ears. Not wanting to untangle yourself from him so soon, you barely lifted your face from his neck to look him in the eyes, after all the flame hero had missed seeing your eyes and you his.  

“I have prepared a hearty meal for you, Jiji. Let’s go to go to the kitchen to fetch the food an-”  

A yelp escaped your mouth cutting yourself off. Having been too distracted by your pretty ears, comforting smell and the quietness of your home, Enji hadn’t noticed your lack of clothes. Your ears were blessed with a quiet pleased hum as he took in exactly what you were wearing, his arms roaming over your body entangled in his before gently caressing your cotton tail.  

“Hm, I’m not hungry for that kind of food, bunny.” 

Having been separated from him for so long, you were already floating away and couldn’t understand the innuendo. When asked if he would prefer some food from outside, he just chuckled and gave you a grin.  

“Not quite, bunny.”  

As he was walking to your shared room, you grew more and more flustered. Your cheeks were warming up, your eyes dropping from pleasure and slick creating a damp spot on your panties. Flustered from the gentle caresses on your tail, you hid your face in his neck to find sanctuary from his piercing gaze.  

Of course, Enji noticed not being able to see the dark look of pleasure in your eyes anymore.  

“Tsk, tsk, pretty girl, don’t go hiding from me now.”  

With you still in his arms, he sat down on the bed positioning you on his lap. Almost in a trance, you lifted your head from its place to give him a pleased smile as he continued to roam his hands all over you.  

You observed him as he gently kissed every part of your body he could reach. With love and happiness bursting through your chest, you couldn’t help but grab his face to kiss him softly. Finally, your lips were reunited. Finally, his tongue met yours again. Finally, you were one again. 

Well, not quite, something was missing, something hot and heavy was missing and it was starting to grow hard underneath you. Reluctantly parting ways to fill your lungs once more with oxygen, your lips only now connected with a string of saliva, Enji’s lips chased yours for more even if his lungs were aching, burning. 

Greedily, you took off his shirt, unbuttoned his pants until he was left with nothing but his boxers. A pool of slick had gathered in your panties by now, drenching them, ruining them. Getting up to rid yourself of your own clothes, a big warm hand reached out to stop you.  

“Don’t, bunny. I want to see you drenching your pretty lingerie for me.”  

“They’re going to get ruined, Enji!” 

“Don’t you worry about that, bunny. I’ll just buy you more. Now get over here, I missed you.”  

“Hm, I missed you too, love.” 

Climbing back in his lap, you tugged away at his boxers until his dick sprung free. The tip leaking precum and blushing a pretty red colour.  

“You know what I missed the most, though?” 

“Hm, tell me, pretty bunn- nuuugh fuck.”  

“I missed your pretty cock, Jiji. I want to suck it so bad, can I? Can I suck your big cock, Enji?”  

Enji had to take deep breaths to stop himself from cumming right then and there. Your pretty eyes were looking at him, a sparkle of excitement in your clouded irises, your small hand barely closing around his dick. Your pretty lips, all red and swollen up from his kisses. Fuck, what a way to come back home. When he took too long to reply, your hand twisted at the head and spread the pearls of precum leaking out. Both your mouth and pussy growing wetter at the thought of him in your mouth. Filling you up so good, his scent and taste overpowering everything and anything else around you.  

“Enji, please, can I? I need it in my mouth please please please.” 

The sigh of you so cock-drunk made him twitch in your small hand. No thoughts in your pretty head except for his big dick.  

“Fuck me,” A groan escaped his lips when you spit on his cock to make the glide easier “-you can do whatever you want, bunny. It’s all yours, I’m all yours, pretty baby.”  

Thank you’s left your lip in a rush as you pushed him down on the mattress to properly straddle him. However, just as you were about to be whole again, Enji tugged on your arm and gestured at his torso with his hands.  

“Get over here, pretty bunny. I want to see your beautiful pussy, baby.”  

Your cheeks warmed up and you quickly maneuvered yourself to sit on his torso, your back facing his face. Fuck, Enji’s gorgeous cock looked so big compared to your hands.  

With your tits squished against his happy trail & your hands on his strong thighs, you opened your mouth wide to finally be whole again. As you ascended on him further, tears were rapidly building in your eyes, pools of saliva and arousal slipping out of your mouth making a mess of his balls. Slurping noises and pleased hum left your mouth. Fuck, nothing else was as good as the taste and heaviness of him. His musk, his taste, him in you once more made your ears point outwards from happiness.  

Suddenly, you felt electricity dance along your spine again. Enji was groping and occasionally groping your tail again in rhythm along your bobbing up and down. He just couldn’t help himself, his bunny looked so good with her cotton tail wagging and twitching from excitement. Your body immediately reacted to his action by vibrating, causing Enji’s cock to twitch and throb in your mouth.  

Moans soon joined in when he started to play with your pussy. The flame hero had tugged your panties to the side, and the sight that had greeted him back made him audibly groan.  

“God damn, baby, did you miss me this much?”  

Your slick was dripping, making a mess of his lower chest as your hole clenched around nothing. Using his fingers to play with your cute little clit earned him a pretty yelp from his bunny before you resumed sucking the life out of him. After lazily drawing circles on your bundle of nerves, he realised he needed to get a better view of what was his. He let his hands massage your butt before parting his bunny’s cheeks to see just how much your pussy had missed him. 

“Fuck, pretty bunny, you’re making a mess over here. Shit and all of this wasted slick,” the broad man gathered your arousal pooled on his chest to lick at his shiny fingers and outright moaned at the taste. “-fuck, baby, need to taste you. Need to get my mouth on that crying cunt.”  

Unfortunately for the number one hero, the height difference didn’t allow his mouth to be anywhere close to where he wanted to be. He was left to watch as your weeping cunt kept on dripping more and more arousal on his chest. He felt like he was going to explode right there and then.  

You couldn’t even hear him, too engrossed in engraving the feel of his dick in your mouth. Feeling and tracing every vein, every pulse, every throb, made you dizzy from pleasure.  

“You’re so big, Jiji.” You lapped at the drops of arousal on his slit, drunk off of the taste of him, the scent of him. “Fuck, could do this forever, fucking love your cock, Enji.” You whimpered before getting your fill again and going as far as your throat could take.  

“Mhm, made to suck dick weren’t you, bunny? Let me get a taste of you, love, need to-” He was interrupted short when you managed to swallow all of him down to the base. Praises were flowing out of his mouth like oxygen leaving his lungs, an instinct, a natural body reaction to you.  

‘Fuck, baby, you’re such a good bunny.’  

‘My pretty little bunny sucking me so good, baby.’ 

‘Such a good bunny for me, fuuuck meee.’ 

With his head thrown back, he groped your ass once more and landed a slap on it. His cock throbbing when he saw your cheeks and tail bounce from the impact. He slapped your butt one more time, amazed by the bounce before grabbing your tail with one hand while the other hand started to finger you making you whine.  

“Shit, pretty love, such a warm mouth for me, fuck fuck, wanna make you feel good too, bunny. Need to make you feel good, baby.” Enji felt his brain go fuzzy from your hot, tight cunt gripping his fingers, your hard nipples against his happy trail, your warm mouth and the softness of his baby’s cotton tail.  

“I missed your dick so much, baby. Can’t get enough of it, please please please- so fuck such a good cock, Jiji.” You were a babbling mess, not making any sense as you kissed your beloved’s cock and traced every vein with your tongue. You didn’t even know what you were asking for, more of his fingers or more of his cum. It didn’t matter as long as you could keep your mouth on him.  

Enji, on the other hand, was growing frustrated seeing you clenching on his fingers, painting them white with your arousal seeping out of your cunt. He had missed your cunt so much and he could only lie there helplessly unable to get a taste of his favourite fruit. He needed to drink from you again, let the juice drip down his throat and stain his teeth. 

Thrusting his fingers in and out of you, he tried to find just the right spot. A smug smirk painted his lips when he felt you keen more, pants leaving your mouth more urgently. He kept on hitting your sweet spot and groping your tail until he felt you pull his dick out of your mouth.  

“Mnuuurgh, don’t stop Enji, so good, your fingers feel so good fuck.” You whined beautifully, the sound a harmony to his ears. Unable to concentrate with his fingers playing with your body, you opted to tap your tongue against his cock and lick into his slit. Closing your mouth around the tip and hollowing your cheeks made him see stars. You were driving him insane; he couldn’t take it anymore.  

“Gods, fucking come here, bunny. Driving me fucking insane over here, fuck.” was hissed by your man before he looped his arms around your thighs and pulled your weeping cunt to his mouth.  

“Enj-ji, wait no, w-wait"  

Before you could get more words out, he was feasting on you as a starved man would, drinking you in as if you were his last drops of water and to Enji you might as well be. He lapped at your juices, trying not to let one drop escape his lips, his hands around your waist, stabilising you, guiding you to grind your face on him. Quickly, he pushed two of his thick fingers in you again and hit your g-spot relentlessly. Your body was vibrating with pleasure, but you wanted him, needed him in your mouth again. “F-fuck, Enji I need you please please please. Need to taste- mmnuuuurgh fuck fuck so good Enji so good ooooh!!”  

You could Enji’s lips grinning as he continued to lap at your leaking hole, grunting and moaning at the slickness on his taste buds. “Enji, please- Fuck, -” Seeing his leaking tip, you tried to reach him, but you were only able to barely graze your hands against the hot flesh. You were growing desperate, missing the weight in your mouth, pools of saliva gathering in your mouth at the sight of his arousal. “-Jiji, want you in my mouth again, baby” You whined, looking down at him and frowning when you saw him pay you no mind.  

“Let me suck you again, love” Puffs of air were leaving your mouth as you continued to whimper, in a moment of despair, you tried to get his attention by squirming out of his touch. This caused Enji to scoff and finally pull himself away from his ambrosia.  

“Oh, bunny, you are not taking this away from me. You’ve had your turn, now let me devour-” 

“Enji, please please, I want your cock so badly, no I need it please Enji pleas- Fuck!” Fuck, Enji was not playing fair, pinching your tail between his pointer and thumb to turn you into putty.  

“Now, you listen, bunny and you listen well. Don’t try to squirm out again and let me enjoy your sweet juice hm, -” His fingers resumed to thrust in and out in times with his other hand playing with your tail. “-, your pussy missed me, bunny. Don’t want to take this from her nor me, right baby?” 

“Nonono, baby, just- guuuh please just, oh gods, just need, I need- Fuuuck Enji!”  

“Hm, pretty dumb bunny can’t even think without something to suck on, huh baby?” The hero needed to occupy you while he had his feast if he didn’t want you to squirm away again. So, he left your hole gaping around nothing and brought his fingers in front of your mouth. “Open your mouth, darling.” he commanded, and you happily obliged him. “Hm, you look so good like this, bunny. Maybe we should set up a camera next time so you can see just how good you look, huh?” Your lower face was covered in a mix of fluid, your saliva, his arousal and now from your own slick. When his fingers made contact with your taste buds, you pleasantly hummed at the taste of yourself.  

Now that he was certain that you wouldn’t try to escape anymore, the red hair continued to eat you out, one hand alternating between pinching and tugging at your tail while the other hand had its fingers in your pretty mouth. After lapping and tongue fucking you, Enji decided to pay attention to your swollen clit. You gasped in pleasure when his hot muscle touched your bundle of nerves. Shaking and mewling on top him, tears rolled down your cheeks from the stimulation of your tail being petted with and your man’s tongue flicking your clit over and over.  

The coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter ready to snap at any moment the longer Enji played with your body. You could only think and feel Enji, please or more or fuck love your tongue, love your fingers, love you or his name were the only words leaving your stuffed mouth. You were so close to the edge, teetering on the verge of an orgasm.  

Enji could tell you were about to cum as well from the slick dripping down his face. “Fuck, going to come for me, bunny? Come on, let it out f’me, pretty darling.” He cooed at you, letting his tongue be in your cunt once more, lapping at your juices and creating the perfect friction for you to get off to. Your moans and gasps only spurring him on to go faster.  

Then, your vision turned white, the elastic band finally snapping, mouth biting down harshly on your lover’s fingers from the sensation. Enji just hummed and groaned at the cum filling his mouth, his senses drowning with only you you you. When he felt your legs tremble uncontrollably around his head, he retrieved his fingers from your mouth to grasp your inner thigh and secure you on his face as he drank up any lingering drop.  

The grip he had on you lessened as he continued to hum and groan at your arousal, allowing you to part ways with his mouth enough to finally reach his cock again. Too engrossed in his task, Enji just blindly followed his ambrosia as you at last gripped his cock once more. Eating you out had turned him on so much that only a few tugs were needed before ropes of cum shot out.  

Having had his fill, Enji disconnected from your pussy for a moment leaving you to quickly escape his grasp to enclose your mouth around his tip. The flame hero couldn’t even complain. Your warm mouth and hands were milking out every last drop of his cum and he could taste the juices of your pussy staining his tongue, his mouth, his teeth.  

When you swallowed everything that your lover had to give, you happily gave a last kiss to the head before turning around and smiling brightly at your Jiji.  

“Welcome home, baby!” 

“Hmm, and what a way to come back this was, pretty bunny.”  

You leaned your weight on his chest, your arousal from earlier having dried on his lower chest. Both of you let out pleased hums when your lips connected softly, lazily making out, tasting the taste of yourselves on your partner’s tongue. Fluids mixing together, legs entangled together, two beings turning into one after being separated for so long. 

You laid in bed for some time before Enji carried you to the bathroom so that you could pee, and he could wash away any lingering cum on both of your bodies. The rest of the day was spent with you in his arms, feeding the both of you the delicious food you had prepared earlier. Pecks and pets were exchanged throughout the whole evening until the both of you went to bed.  

Safely tucked in his arms, all warm and safe in the freshly made sheets, you kissed your lover his last kiss of the day.  

“Goodnight, Jiji. I love you.”  

Enji kissed the space between your ears and caressed your back to lull you to sleep, and before he could even form a reply, you were softly snoring, letting out happy noises and purring when he would graze at your cotton tail.  

With the comfort of your weight finally back on top of him again, he felts his own eyes droop down in an attempt to sleep, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to look at you a bit more, his pretty bunny purring contently in his arms. However, sleep was inevitable, and before he submitted to it, mutters left his lips in pure devotion. 

“Goodnight, baby. I love you, too.” 

[sepia-stained-sunset]

Talia canonically showers Damian with gifts! Choosing to believe she loves spoiling him so they technically celebrate any holiday so she has an excuse to give him whatever

[kkkkkkkitty]

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

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

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

~

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

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

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

Eddie catches his eye - he looks wild with fear. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone’s gone!” Julie announces. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Barnaby is going to die. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Out?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Find Wally for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No response. 

Howdy goes cold. “Barn?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will he be okay?” Julie asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s Barnaby’s blood. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He isn’t taking care of it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did - why did - what -”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” Frank asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing inside.

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

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

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

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

Nothing but muddy soil, bushes, trees, darkness. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peep.

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

Another peep comes from inside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Many worries, dear.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mars-ipan]

the other day @barack-fa and i were discussing garfield and growing up with it and such and then somehow one of us (barack, i think?) had the genius level idea of komahinanami garfield au. and i HAD to make it real

[loveaetingkids]

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