#Dearly: New Poems

[bindeds]

⋆。 °⛧ Willy Wonka headcanons ! 🖇️✩ ₊˚

gif is by @thisgameissonintendo <3

do lmk if you’d like more posts like this!! I’m planning to write a wonka fic soon so stay tuned ;)

requests are open ! mlist. wonka nsfw hcs.

he’s good at lockpicking & pickpocketing, so he’d make a very good thief but he doesn’t do it because he knows he was taught better by his mother and he doesn’t want to disappoint her

he is only a workaholic when it comes to his chocolate. This man would find the easiest and fastest possible way to do most other tasks

one of the only tasks that are an exemption of the above are clothing. He’s particular in what he wears, not that he has high standards but he wants to dress unapologetically like himself, and that includes deep shades of purple, red and pink for his overcoats, and more mute colors for anything below that

LOVES to read now that he can. He often visits the library and even started a mini book club with Noodle and the rest of the gang (Piper, Larry, Abacus and Lottie) but they assign themselves more than one book per month sometimes because the rest are not as fast to read books as the two of them

He is IN LOVE with Alice in Wonderland, especially the Mad Hatter.

He loves poetry too, and learned how to write his own pretty quickly and always reads it out to Noodle when he writes new poems

his guilty pleasure for books is definitely romance. He likes the thought of devoting yourself to one person, because he knows how it feels like to devote himself to chocolate, and imagining a whole other person to share everything with just fills him with so much hope and light.

this man smells just like vanilla and chocolate, and he wants to keep it that way so he learned to make his own perfume that has the unique smell of his own chocolate (this headcanon partially inspired by this fic! I love the writer sm)

definitely looks up and says ‘sorry mama,’ if he does something questionable, even if he has good intentions

unaware of ‘gender norms’ because he lived by a river with his mother as a child then stayed on sea for seven years with roughly the same group of people, so those things weren’t imposed on him especially since he was mostly raised by only his mother.

following the headcanon above, he knows both the female and male parts of the waltz and other ballroom dances and has no problem wearing skirts or dresses (though prefers pants because he’s used to wearing them and it’s easier to move around in)

and because he was raised with only a small group of people around him almost his whole life, he lives life ‘unfiltered’ which is why he is seen as eccentric and wild, because his mother found it endearing and the boat crew saw how brilliant he was and never told him to ‘tone it down.’

loves shopping with Noodle, and they have an especially good time trying out clothes together

if the Barbie movie came out around the same area and time period, him and Noodle would have definitely dressed in all pink and only Wonka would have bawled his eyes out while Noodle begrudgingly consoles him

definitely goes back out to sea for a whole month once a year, and with the same crew he was first seen with in the beginning of the film. He misses them dearly, and always shares his chocolate with them free of charge

this man has chocolates for everything—chocolates to sleep better, chocolates to enhance focus and even chocolates to calm down (either from panic attacks or intense emotions like anger)

he probably even sells chocolates with vitamins inside, mostly also for children who don’t remember or don’t want to take their vitamins, but he was careful not to make it too good so they won’t take more than the necessary daily amount

he learned to cook after the events of the movie, finding that knowledge in that area would help enhance his skill in chocolate-making. He’s good, but of course he’s not a sous chef

[lalaisdevoted]

I never thought that working with the Gods meant that I'll receive things too, not only give them offerings and devotionals posts, wear jewelry for them and say about my days.

No, they want to gift me things too. Isn't this surprising?

I'm in the process of working with Lady Aphrodite again, and before I light up a candle or make a playlist as my first offering to her. She simply gives me a new friend???? Like??? Ma'am I didn't do anything to deserve this but I'll cherish it dearly.

Lord Apollo also gifted me a wonderful friend and I'm forever grateful to him for this. I love my friend as if she was a sister to me.

Lord Eros is a sweetheart that always made sure to make me feel comfortable about my silly crushes and my desire to be loved by a guy.

I love the Deities, they protects us and gift us even when we think that we don't deserve it.

All they ask back is respect, is to receive our devotion and that we give them things that come from our heart, it doesn't matter if it's just a silly poem (something that I love to gift them), because it's the intention that matters.

The Gods love us, if you needed a signal that they love you, here it is: they love you. They love you because you are you and that's what matter.

[btdemaru]

Obey Me! Dating fluff headcanon.

ft. The 7 demon brothers seperate

(obey me brothers x GN! Reader)

Note : these r just the headcanon + love language that i think would fit them, if it's abit ooc i apologize!

Warning : slightly suggestive

Lucifer

his love language is definitely acts of service and quality time

Opening doors for you, pouring you a cup of coffee he made just for the both of you

Whenever he's doing work and you're in the room with him, he'd probably pull you onto his lap

Lucifer loves and always enjoys the times you spend together frfr

Even if it's just in his room, going for night walks, fancy dinners and so on

If you guys go out for dinner or just grocery shopping he would definitely put his hand around your waist just to show everyone there that you're his

He'll say that hes a little overprotective.. even tho 'little' is far from how protective he actually is 💀

Tends to overwork himself so you have to force him to get his ass to bed whether you drag him or not

Is too prideful to admit that he craves your hugs and cuddles every night

Mostly calls you 'my love' or 'my dearest'

If you disturb him while he's working on a deadline or just giving him an attitude he'd definitely be pissed and wouldn't hesitate to put your bratty attitude in place

Loves kissing your lips and neck

Mammon

I think his love language is gifting (more to receiving gifts lmfao) and physical touch

Will make you his lucky charm when he's gambling 😉

If he won, you're in for a treat! Would spend the money he won on you by buying you new clothes, shoes, jewelry or even a lingerie (more of a gift for him tbh)

Mammon is very caring towards you so when he sees that you're down or upset he'd definitely will try his hardest to cheer you up

Which probably is easy since he's such a fun demon to he around with so you're never bored with him around

I think his nicknames for you that he uses alot is probably 'stupid' or 'human'

Ofcourse he doesn't mean it when hes insulting you though

If he hears anyone insulting you he'd make a scene which sometimes mostly isn't really needed if you dont give a shit about what other demon/people say.

Favorite parts of you he likes to kiss is your cheeks

Leviathan

I've always imagined him as a sweet boy (so breedable)

His love language? Quality time and maybe physical touch <3

He's mostly in his room, so when you invited yourself in and started talking about how you like his interest he'd burst right there and then.

Loves your touch, perhaps abit clingy..? Typa guy who'd snuggle with you in bed while he's playing games or sitting on your lap while he's fighting bosses 👌

has difficulty accepting that you choose to spend time with him or even dating him

If you decide to cosplay just for his eyes only his brain would malfunctioned, face and ears all red flushed

Tbh he'd get just a teeny tiny bit jealous when you pay more attention to henry 2.0 than him but he thinks it's cute that you also care for his little goldfish.

Would call you 'normie' or just by your name

Loves when you reassure him no matter the situation, when he has nightmares or his self-esteem isn't good or more.

Kisses your inner thighs or hand

Satan

Maybe word of affirmation?

Satan would write and reads the poems he made just for you

Most likely he'll read you stories if you're struggling to sleep or has insomnia

he will let you read him the book he's reading while he lays on your lap demanding his head to be stroked as well

Favorite activity with you is reading together in bed the whole day or going to a cat cafe, taking pictures of you holding a cat (would probably make it his wallpaper)

He can be harsh sometimes especially when he just had an argument again with Lucifer and would apologize dearly when he lashes out at you.

Not much of a PDA fan but will hold your hand when the you're going out together

Idk abt nicknames but probably 'kitten' (?) Or 'darling'

Satan will keep every cat item you gave him (keychain, plushie ect)

Kisses your right hand alot along with your lips

Asmodeus

Physical touch 🔛🔝

We all know he's flirty and he won't hide it

He loves PDA so be prepared lmaoo, he'll hold your hand/waist or give you random kisses here and there whether it's on your lips, neck, hand anywhere!

You guys would go on shopping dates ALOT, he loves picking clothes for you and once even tried going in to the changing room with you to "help".

Shopping with him takes pretty long- after buying clothes he goes to buy perfume then shoes then nail polishes then this and that, but no worries he'd spoil you to buy whatever you want there

Asmo buys alot of matching outfits for the both of you

Without you noticing he'd probably buy new toys every now and then for the both of you to try (iykyk)

Another favorite activity he likes to drag you into is warm steamy baths together, just the thought of your bare body touching gets him excited!

Has plenty of nickname for you its uncountable 'sweetie', 'love', 'darling', 'dollface', 'hottie' and 'sexy'

Beelzebub

quality time

This big boy melts like putty when you cook for him, whether it's a dish from where you came from to his favorite foods

Likes to cuddle with you while eating chips, the crumbs tend to get all over you but he has no problem cleaning it up with his mouth

Ask you on a movie date alot (bringing snacks and food is a must!!)

Loves when you're watching him exercise and would be happy if you join him

He'd blush hard if he notice you staring at his body (who wouldn't tbh)

Sometimes but rarely ask his twin brother to join on sleepy dates

Usually would walk behind you or hold your hands, nobody would dare to do anything to you if he's around- he would throw hands if you got physically hurt by someone- so you'll definitely feel safe with him

'honey' or food based stuff is probably his favorite nickname to call you.

I think he'd bite you softly more than kisses, but if he does kisses you it's mostly collarbone or forehead

Belphegor

Like his twin beel, loves quality time with you!

Your dates with him would probably 99.999% be sleepy dates and cuddles

Always ask you to sleep next to him, bodies tangled together and just so comfy he LOVES it!

I personally like to think that he purrs- so imagine him purring loudly while you give him head pats and sleeping on your chest.

Gives you the right airpods/headset so you both can relax while listening to music together, just enjoying each other's company

His body temperature is ice cold so if you're a warm person expect him to cling to you everywhere

If you aren't there he'd probably pouts while hugging his pile of stuffed animals and pillows until you get back

Hogs your lap purposely if you're having a conversation with beel, belphie pretends to be asleep tho he's listening to both of your convo.

Nicknames? I think he'd just call you by your name.

Sleepy kisses on your lips, sometimes sloppy makeout sessions.

[vibingandsimping]

What kinks do you think Dammon would have?

I received this ask JUST after reading a Dammon fic. Get out of my head, Jesus christ.

I adore Dammon, truly. Sadly, he doesn’t strike me as a hardcore guy. He definitely has a fair share of kinks, though.

Worship

He adores your body. Honestly, anything about you. He whispers it to you as he trails his lips down your chest. Along your sternum as you begin to writhe. Each kiss is followed by some sort of compliment. “Your skin is so lush.”, “I love to hear you.”, “I would do this all day, god.” Really anything to get you off. His hands will work your flesh until you begin to whimper. Dammon works with enthusiasm til you’re practically begging. No need, though. Once you’re ready he’ll happy turn to one of his other kinks. On the other hand… He flusters so much if you do it in return. His brain shuts off but the raging tent in his trousers is proof enough. His skin a deep bronze as he draws ragged breaths. He enjoys it both ways. He could never ask for it, though. It’d have to be something you initiate.

Oral Fixation

Between your thighs is his heaven. He’ll spend all of eternity worshipping your sensitive flesh, if you’d permit. God, if you gave him permission to do it whenever he pleased? Practically every morning and night you’d go to sleep and wake to him. Tongue working like a feral animal as he uses skilled technique. Hands flying to his hair as it drapes over his shoulders. He forgone his hair-clip in his laze. Truthfully, all he thought and sought was the wondrous cries and ambrosia that you leaked. If he could write a song or poem- he would. You grow used to climaxing by his tongue alone at least once every time you visit. God forbid you two live together.

Mating Press

Not sure if this is a kink but… it’s the way he can reach so deeply within you. He tells you he doesn’t particularly have a breeding kink (he’s a liar). No, he just settled down in his life and can’t spare the thought of raising a child. He’d love to grow a family when his blacksmithing is solid and there’s no threat of danger. Despite that, he does welcome a little thrill. Your legs thrown over his shoulders as he drills into you. Even if you can’t biologically have kids- he’ll relish in the position. Yes, when you two are ready… he’s going to put you in this every time. Until you two have the kid you wish. Til there’s a bundle of joy to take care of and run around the house. Better get used to the burn in your thighs, baby. It’s going to be so hard to say no when he gives you those puppy-eyes of his.

Prolonged Foreplay

He is torturous. Dammon will sit and whisper his wants into your ear for days. Fleeting moments of you visiting his smithery for new tools and armor. Grabbing your arm as your companions depart to tell you his depraved thoughts. How he misses you so dearly. When you two finally grab a drink at a tavern as everyone chats. His eyes take you in hungrily and he plays so innocently when you pointedly stare at him. Finally alone, his nails tickle your skin as does his lips. Locked in the passion of your make-out and groping. Groaning into your skin as you touch a particularly sensual spot on his body. You can feel him pressing into the inside of your knee. When you suggest taking things further he simply shakes his head. He’s adamant on making sure you’re ready. Even if you whine and say you are. He gets off on the desperation between you two.

Tail Restraint

This goes both ways. If you have a tail of any sort he’ll gladly let you use it on him. Takes a little reassurance but he trusts you so much. How could you ever hurt him? You wrap your tail around his ankles or wrists as your hand wraps around his cock. His jaw lowers in a choked moan as you begin to slowly guide your hand. His erection, leaking and aching, being slowly jerked off as his body twists in your hold. It’s a delicious sight. If you want him to use his tail on you… again he’s very willing with some reassurance. (Also with the solid establishment of a safe-word. He’s so paranoid he’ll push your boundaries.) The leathery texture of the skin coils around your wrists. Laying on your arms as he pins and restrains them underneath your back. He slips to his knees and begins to work his hands on your sex. He’s slow, painfully so, in working the seed of desire in you. Finally, when your sex begins to weep for him does he use his tongue. The feeling is gratifying and leaves you nearly forgetting the lack of movement in your arms and hands.

[happysadgirl909]

All Of My Friends Are Dead

Due to unfortunate circumstances;

All of my friends are dead.

They got casted to play Snow White..

because their real life personality..

perfectly mirrored the character.

(naive, benevolent, trusting and joyful)

They rejoiced when they scored the leading role!

The celebration lasted longer than one day.

A timeless dance beneath the moon’s soft sway.

Laughter lingered, echoes in the night,

embracing joy until the morning light.

Then it was time for the grand show.

The directors fooled them not once but twice.

They took advantage of all that was nice.

The apple was handed once more,

they’d had numerous rehearsals before..

in their eyes it was just another snore.

With hungers bite, they taste the sin.

Then the poison seeps within.

The sweetness laced with bitter lies,

a fateful lure in each disguise.

In orchard’s heart..their spirits are sown.

Among the trees.. forever grown.

A caution told in whispered breath,

of the apple’s curse and silent death.

The curtains close,

there are no more tomorrows.

All that is left is heavy sorrows.

🪽Rest in peace to all of my friends that ate their final bite of ‘the apple’.

You are all loved and missed dearly.

[salaimoi]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ‘like an angel’ by artemas is responsible for this. re-upload bc I was too sleepy to realize how horrible & unfinished this was when i first uploaded it

Most men would call you distasteful words during sex, but not Choso. The two of you had only fucked a handful of times thus far, but when you did, he would remain in utter silence as he admired you.

And to you, his untainted purity was a refreshing sight to behold among this blemished world – so you didn't mind his lack of words.

Choso was fairly new to the dating scene, but he heard buzz from the other jjk men that you're supposed to talk to your partner during sex. He didn't completely comprehend the notion, since he believed your physique communicated with his gaze in a way no words ever could.

Alas, he decided to give it a try, blurting out the first line that crossed his mind during that moment.

“You fuck like an angel,” he praises mid session while his hands latched onto your hips as you maneuvered yourself on top of him. Even the way he held you with a mellow grip mirrored his temper, aiding your efforts by guiding your body and gently pressing you back down against his pelvis every time you felt as if your knees were going to give out.

You were too out of it to comprehend a single syllable, so you babble an incoherent “uh huh,” not giving what he said much thought.

But Choso meant every word; to him, you were divinity fully realized. He was almost 100% certain you would give him a heart attack, but he would die for his angel. Perhaps he welcomed death as long as it meant immortalizing the breathtaking scene before him.

And as if his first comment wasn't enough, he went on to cement the notion of just how dearly he admired you.

“From my rotting body, flowers shall grow, each one being only for you – and you alone,” he gazed up at you with a tooth-rotting, beaming expression before going on, “and I'd be honored to be the favored flower that adorns the enchanting garden your body is.”

While his composed demeanor didn’t change, the color of his cheeks told a completely distinct narrative.

Your eyes widen, causing your movements to come to a complete halt as the sudden unexpected, but heartfelt, words finally process in your mind.

One of your hands moves towards Choso’s cheek, a tenderness that directly translates to your voice as you reply, “I love you sweetie, but I’m gonna have to teach you how to properly dirty talk.”

“But isn’t that how other people do it?” He raised an eyebrow, completely unaware that the definition he gave to the concept of sex talk was flawed.

He assumed other couples used this time to praise their partners, since they were handing over a very vulnerable part of them. And he was right to an extent, but other couples did not spew beautiful poems like he did — but you had no heart to tell him that.

So instead of shattering his wholesome beliefs with reality, you nodded, leaning forward to press a warm kiss on your boyfriend’s forehead.

“Yeah, that’s how some of them do it.”

The reassurance was met with his arms wrapping around your waist, his face burying itself in between your bare chest. It was almost enough to forget the vulgar deed you were engaging in a few seconds ago.

[amirumono]

Waiting for you to come back 🍒⏰

Genshin men x reader (fluff): Characters included // Kazuha, Heizou, Scaramouche, Xiao, Tighnari // Separated Summary: You’re off on a long commission, you’ll only be gone for about the whole 1/2 months per. Though it saddens them you can’t take them alongside (for questionable reasons) they’ll agree to keep both of your shared humble abode clean, tidy, and safe while waiting for your return to their lonely-empty open arms.

What they miss when your both together:

Kazuha —

As calm and accepted with this, he prays to the archons to stay safe on your journey hoping you’re not in any bad situations or get any injuries onwards.

He misses when he could come home, go to both of your shared bedroom and see you and your droopy state welcoming him back home than having to cuddle eachother to sleep on the nights.

Though it’s fine for a long distance relationship when you and him could send cute-mushy love letters back and fourth or seeing how the other is doing, just as long as he knows that your still alive and safe ♡.

He just longs for the months to be over so you can finally come back and wishes he could hold your hand in his taking a stroll in the areas you love to admire with him as he makes up new love poems only just for you.

\ \ \

Heizou —

He’ll just hop back to his normal routine just like when he didn’t had a partner, that’ll be fine right??

Making a dirty joke he was ready for someone to hit him in a shoulder playfully, though realizing after you weren’t here. He would cough it off and move on with his duties alone.

He misses when he had someone to ‘romantically’ tease with or give surprising hugs and kisses to.

All he can think of when dozing off is your giddy giggles he loves to hear, it was like a nice tune for him to just sleep off immediately till you yourself come back so he could hear more and lovingly hear it all day.

\ \ \

Scaramouche —

He’s used to people coming and going, though this was different practically because you were his lover giving him so much affection that he couldn’t handle being a flustered mess.

Now that your gone for a bit his surroundings became way to quiet that’s what he would prefer atleast, but now it irritates him without you twittering in his ears pestering him.

He liked the silence, but missed you dearly. He wished you were here blabbering your mouth so he could shut you up with his own lips engulfing himself in the moment.

Than leaving you stun forgetting what you were talking about.

\ \ \

Xiao —

He wonders if your looking up at the night sky too, it’s where the two of would just end the day always stargazing together and talking away with your feelings and he listens.

He wishes he could hear your sweet voice again and lay on your soft lap soothing him as your fingers comb his hair then kissing the purple gem on his forehead, praising him for all his achievements today.

Hoping he comes back and sees you making his favorite meal when the month is passed and your back with your pretty caring self that he adores.

/ / /

Tighnari —

Occupies himself with work, usually someone was there to stop him from overworking for a break every once in awhile with cups of teas than having silly gossips together.

Though he was infatuated with work he wishes you were here littering his neck with kisses distracting him and annoying him for attention.

He loved taking care of you or when there’s something you need help with but mostly scolding you for something foolish you’ve done which was 90% of the time.

Sometimes you were a hassle but sometimes you weren’t he loved you either way. There was less trouble making but he missed your crazy antics to handle it gave some ‘spice’ to his life.

[usedtobeguest123]

My grandma passed away this last week. She was the matriarch of my family, raising a brood of boys on her own in a new country, and the life I have now I owe to her dedication and sacrifice. She is part of why the character of Abuela resonates so strongly with me, not because of their similarities in character, but because of how meaningful it was to see a story like hers represented in a beautiful, celebrated way in mainstream media.

I'll miss her dearly.

I was going through my unused writing snippets and I found this old one I had started for Encantober "Grief" and never finished. I polished it up a bit and offer it up now in my Abuela's honor. It's inspired by this Twitter-posted poem that resonated with so many people. While I know that there's so much more to the everlasting life after this one, this poem speaks such beauty and childlike peace into that transition, and I adore it for that.

Also, for some reason, I always thought that when the time came for Abuela to pass on, Camilo in particular would have a hard time letting go. Let it in, let it out, let it rain, let it snow, let it go, and all that. He seemed a fitting recipient for this, and also someone likely to ask an uncomfortable question.

Love you Grandma; God bless you and keep you. I can't wait to see you in again in paradise ❤️

------

It had been happening all. freaking. day.

He’d turn the corner, see a cup or a flower or a damn leaf that somehow reminded him and poof, he’d be someone else. Papi. Dolores. Luisa—a mess of people in quick succession. Thank God he’d managed to keep from changing into her. He didn’t think he could deal with that. Ay, he didn’t think any of them could.

No one blamed him though. When Mirabel witnessed one of his involuntary shifts on his way to the kitchen that morning, she’d just looked at him with that sappy, stupid face she was always making and gave him a hug that maybe did help him feel a little better.

Papi had clapped him hard on the back, keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder as he shifted back down into his own skin. He'd nodded solemnly, giving him a gentle, encouraging lift under the chin.

Tía Julieta just gave him an extra helping at lunch, teary-eyed yet smiling warmly as always.

But it still sucked.

Dios why couldn’t he just get a grip? He felt so jumpy. Everything set him off. He snapped at Antonio when one of his coatis left cacas outside his room again. Even as he spoke he’d known his voice was a too harsh for the situation. He snapped Isabela, and for once she didn’t snap back. She just sent a tiny bloom of flowers settling into his shirt pocket, their stems only a little spikey. He even snapped at Casita when they both knew he'd just tripped on his own two feet.

But he made sure he was on his absolute best behavior around Mami. You want to talk about jumpy? He had nothing on her. Poor Ma.

He managed to hold it together through the rosary, and the next day at mass too, by some miracle. The ceremony was harder, but he pulled through. But then came the reception. Everyone was talking to him and hugging him and offering condolences and ay how many times can you say thank you, I know she's at peace with just the right sad smile before the words start to lose all meaning? Thank you thank you thankyouthankyo—

So. Phwooo. Here he was now, sneaking out of the reception to the back porch of Casita when no one was looking, just to try to fill his stale lungs with a little more air.

After he shut the door quietly behind him, giving a small pat to the wall in thanks to his accomplice Casita, he turned and was surprised to find he in fact was not alone. There, on the small step that led out to the back patio, was Tío Bruno, a rat of course sitting on his shoulder. Eck. Camilo felt a little shiver go down his back.

He considered turning around to find his own private place to brood, but something stopped him. After a moment, and a small nudge from the tiles beneath his feet, he quietly approached instead.

“Hey,” he said lamely.

“Oh!” Bruno startled, flailing comically, but recovered quickly. “Oh, h-hey there Milo.”

Guess I'm not the only one who’s jumpy.

“Do you mind if I…?” he gestured at the empty spot on the stairs next to his tío.

Bruno nodded rapidly, flapping at the spot with his hands and scooting over a minute amount that made absolutely no difference in available space. Camilo sat.

For a while, they didn’t say anything. The rat had disappeared from Tío Bruno’s shoulder to God knows where. They watched the leaves sway on the large gnarled tree that stood proudly behind Casita.

Man, how old was that thing? It had been there as long as he could remember. At some point, a planter had been built around it where Isabela grew a perpetual explosion of flowers, and a swing hung from one of its thicker branches, but he'd seen pictures of when the back porch had let out to just a field and a tree. Camilo found himself wondering if that old thing had always been there, or if it had come with their Miracle.

It looked ancient. The trunk was at least as wide as four humans, twisting and turning up toward the sky at a slight angle before giving way to countless branches, those branches breaking off on their own as well in seemingly infinite chaos. The canopy splayed out above the courtyard in a protective, verdant umbrella so lush that even in the rain, the area underneath often stayed dry. Down below, the roots wove in and out of the soil like great serpents surfacing for air, defying the boundaries of the neat planter and forever upending the level neatness of the patio.

Camilo couldn’t imagine it not being there. He just couldn’t imagine a world without its constant, unshakeable presence. Something heavy and gripping suddenly settled into his chest, and he swallowed hard.

After a moment, his traitorous mouth opened without being told to and he whispered out question so quietly he wasn't sure if Bruno would even hear him.

“What do you think it’s like?”

“Huh?”

“...dying.” Camilo swallowed again, but didn’t look at his uncle. “What do you think it’s like.”

“Oh.” Bruno’s voice was soft. To Camilo’s surprise, he didn’t fidget or squirm like usual. Instead, he seemed to sort of wilt. Camilo glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He'd leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He stared up toward the big tree too, but he didn’t seem to be really looking at anything.

It was quiet for so long, that Camilo considered cracking some kind of joke to cover his tracks.

What are you thinking anyway, tonto? he thought. Guy just lost his mom. You gonna drop a rock like that on him? He really did need to get a grip. He needed to break the tension, ease the mood.

“Well, it must not have been that bad if Abuela allowed it to happen,” he joked, his voice light, wry, and guarding. “I think even La Muerte herself would have layed off if Abuela had given her that one stern look she had, ya know?"

Camilo chuckled, but Bruno didn't laugh. He didn't respond at all. He was still looking at the tree with a distant expression. Camilo narrowed his eyes at him—it didn't even seem like he'd heard a thing.

“...Tío?”

At that, Bruno dropped his eyes down to look at his hands, woven together loosely between his bent knees. He tipped his palms up slightly as if he was looking for something there. He took a slow breath, and then he began to speak.

“When I was a kid,” he said, “a-a real little kid, we had this big party at Casita. You know how it goes. House full of people, everything is busy and bright and loud. I don't remember what it was for anymore, b-but the whole time I just was torn between wanting to not miss a minute of it all, but, but, but also trying to be on my best behavior, like I knew Ma would want, a-and also also trying look out for my sisters, who were doing fine by the way, definitely didn't need me looking out for them but—well, anyway.”

Bruno cleared his throat, and Camilo watched him curiously. He nodded for him to continue, and Bruno nodded back.

“A-anyway, I didn't make it through the whole night. I got tired, like kids do, a-and fell asleep in some corner of the courtyard, heh. Passed right out. And Ma—y-your abuela, she found me and picked me up.”

Bruno looked up then, turning to look at Camilo with a sad, crooked smile and an odd brightness in his eyes.

“She carried me upstairs to my room. I could still hear the party—laughter and singing and music and joy—just in the next room over, but in my room with Mamá it was all still and quiet and peaceful. When she tucked me in, she kissed my cheek, and she whispered, ‘You did well, mijo. You did well. I've got you now.’”

Bruno swallowed. “It…it all just felt so…so…safe,” he shrugged. “Like…relief, I guess. Contentment. Idaknow. I think….maybe, um, maybe dying is… something like that.”

The tight feeling was back in Camilo's chest, and he felt a tear streak down his face before he was even aware it was there. He blinked. Bruno looked down at his empty hands again. The air around them had grown cool, the sun now set. The sound of crickets hummed, and the gentle murmurs from the reception wafted out from the warmly lit windows of Casita. Camilo sniffed loudly.

“That doesn't sound so bad,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. Bruno nodded with a broken chuckle, and brought a sleeve up to wipe roughly at his own face.

“Yeah. It doesn't.”

Then, without warning, Camilo’s shoulders quaked, his breath hitching and more tears suddenly appearing as all the pent-up pressure of the day rose to the surface and broke free. He choked out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. Bruno put an arm around him.

The wind blew gently through the branches of the tree, ruffling the leaves in a hushed lullaby. The ropes of the swing creaked sweetly along with it. And there on the porch, settled between the warm murmurs of the reception behind them and the cool peace of the star-filled night, after his breathing had slowed and his tears had been wiped dry, Camilo thought that maybe he could finally feel within him a measure of stillness.

[publishinggoblin]

Today is the 3rd anniversary of my sister's death, and her 37th birthday. Diana Marcela Pedersen was truly an amazing, kind, and sweet person. I wish the poems I wrote after her death had been about her and a celebration of her life. I hope someday soon when things feel less the way they do now, I can include a good, kind ode to her life in a collection.

But I have never been a particularly bubbly writer. My collection of poems, Like Warm Plastic, is about surviving the grief process. It's live on Backerkit still until September 27th, so I thought, since the project and her birthday coincided, I would read some of the poems from the collection today. And I cried a bunch, and I'm going to go have that final drink with her again, every time this date comes around.

So please, if you have the time today, do something nice for yourself, or someone else, or tell someone you love that you really do love them dearly. Then if you have more time, take 30 minutes to listen to some poetry about the last three years of my life.

Then if you have, somehow, even more time, and $20, consider pledging for a copy of my new book of poems about the grieving process, and back Like Warm Plastic. https://www.backerkit.com/c/projects/publishing-goblin-llc/like-warm-plastic

[adrasteiax]

Kiss it goodbye, the body that was once yours. It's off and running, it's rolled in furs, it's dancing or bleeding out in a meadow. You didn't need it anyway, it attracted too much attention. Better with only a shadow. Someone wants your shadow.

Margaret Atwood, from Shadow in “Dearly: New Poems"

[a-libra-writes]

Do you have any more headcanons for our darling Rocky? Romantic, general or whatever. I think that whenever he sees his s/o he has stars in his eyes and that he loves boasting about them to all of Lackadaisy (much to their annoyance; Victor is that close from throwing him out the window).

Who is your favourite character btw?

This is kind of a part 3 to my previous Rocky Romantic HCs, with these focusing more on domestic living together and family stuff! Femme and masc options included.

When Rocky starts living with you, it's an adjustment. He hasn't had a permanent home-home in nearly 10 years. There's so many things he forgot about, and things he missed dearly but tried very hard not to dwell on. And he gets to see so many new things about you - you'll catch him staring more than once as you go about your routines, from shuffling through the morning to winding down in the evening. All the things you keep on your shelves, everything smelling like you, noting all your interesting habits! It's your private world he's been invited into and he's a little obsessed. The place wouldn't need to be anything fancy, either - even in an apartment, he takes in everything like it's s gift.

(You'll find all sorts of cute notes scattered about where you'll surely find them, even if it's weeks later. Drawings, poems, love notes, song lyrics - all sorts of sweet, sappy things like that. Then there's the BIG obvious ones he leaves right on your nightstand or mirror.)

Rocky wants to be useful, of course, he always does, but his domestic skills are ...well. There's room for improvement. Cleaning and keeping up with himself is one of those things he needs to pay more attention to, and while he wants to help with the cooking, uh. Maybe hold off on that until you're sure he won't get distracted in the middle of boiling water. Also, when he does cook breakfast, there's usually a huge mess left behind ... But it's the thought that counts! He'll figure out pretty much any chore you assign him, anyway. And at this point you know how much Rocky wants to please you.

When he first moved in, there was an initial period where you two slept separately. It was only proper, especially if you're femme, buuut that went out the window within a week or two. Rocky wouldn't be the one to bring it up, but he wouldn't complain a bit if you just let him stay in your bed instead of going back to the couch or guest room. (And I mean, he looks so comfy and he loves snuggling ... are you really gonna kick him out?)

Even if you both fall asleep on opposite sides of the bed, eventually the grey tabby will migrate over to you. The clinginess doesn't stop just because he's asleep! And he either sleeps like the dead, or bolts up at the slightest noise. Most mornings Rocky is up at the near crack of dawn, antsy and ready to get on with whatever idea is rattling around in his head. Snuggling might incline him to sleep in just a little longer - or maybe he'll just soak up the comfy bed, sunny morning and loved one next to him. It's a very quiet and still peace that takes some getting used to.

If you're femme - happy as he is to go on about how wonderful you are to others, he doesn't breathe a word of it to his aunt. He might actually be skinned alive if Nina catches a whiff of him "living in sin".

If you're masc, y'alls domestic life is probably closer to a "bachelor pad" than some suburban bliss, but it's still homey in it's own way. It's far more likely you're both sharing an apartment or row house close to the Little Daisy. Your laundry tends to get mixed up (which Rocky doesn't mind at all, even if you're much bigger than him), there's lots of late-night attempte to cook on the terrifyingly worn out gas stove and opening the window at night to let in a cool breeze and the sounds of the city. Other tenants don't may you two any mind, assuming you're family or two workers trying to save money by boarding together.

(Bonus points if y'all live in the same apartment block as Zib and his band, as if he doesn't have to deal with the nauseating lovebirds enough)

Being in a safe, stable place with a loved one can stir up some buried memories. You've probably seen Rocky despair dramatically already, but the actual crying is new. He's a noisy cryer, it's difficult for him to hide it. He'd even apologize if it woke you up, but Rocky is surprisingly comfortable with crying on you and being held, though there been a few times where he's initially resisted, feeling like he ought to hide these emotions instead. It's been so long since he had this kind of comfort, but there's still shame when he feels the tears came from out of "nowhere". Oh, there's a lot repressed there ...

And there's the whole ... getting a concussion and nearly dying bit. Initially Rocky is unaware of long-term effects of the concussion, and later willfully ignores them as long as he can. Sudden bright lights and loud noise cause twinges of pain that can snowball into a full blown migraine, something he's never had to deal with. And the first time he banged his head on a doorframe? Bam, flat on his ass. Rocky woke up resting on your lap, your frantic face hovering above him. He was only out for a few seconds but uh, still scary. Something he should be aware of and more careful about because he's sooo good at being careful...

(Small silver lining is you fuss and take care of him during the migraines but Rocky haaaates having to be still in bed. Good luck keeping him there!)

Regardless of gender, there's some potential friction with your family. You adore Rocky and are perfectly happy with him, but well, to your family ... If they're middle or upper class, associating with a destitute musician with bizarre behaviors was not in the plan for you (god forbid anyone finds out about the bootlegging and arson). No matter how well he cleans up, or is on his "best behavior", you could risk getting cut out from the family entirely. Note if you're masc, your relationship could simply be brushed aside as that "friend" of your's they don't approve of. A woman will be judged far more harshly, especially if you and Rocky are living together without being married. You can kiss any inheirtance or family support goodbye.

(Of course, being from a poorer family or not having one at all mitigates much of this drama.)

The fact you're willing to defy your family for him and defend him gets Rocky emotional all over again. It's probably not possible for him to be any more devoted to you, but now feelings of guilt will bubble up. On darker days he'll worry he's ruining someone's family relationships (again) and it'd be best if he just left.

Actually getting married to Rocky would amp that family drama even further, no matter how happy you are about it. It'd probably end up being one of those thrown-together elopements where you're both giddy and a little anxious and driving out to who-knows-where to find a priest who won't ask questions. There's no ring, but - hey, maybe a family heirloom was found. Maybe a friend lends a dress that's almost white, and you repurposed a fancy tablecloth for a veil, and Rocky is wearing a borrowed suit of Freckle's, and the bouquet is flowers you two found alongside the road.

It's slapped together and messy but also exciting and y'all are so happy in spite of everything. Rocky's grinning so much you think his face might get stuck; this isn't something he ever imagined for himself, but now that you're here, he just wants to love and be with you forever. Expect a few years. Maybe a lot. There could even be a little 'reception' at the Lackadaisy, with lots of dancing and music and everyone having to witness how blindlingly sappy you two are (as if they weren't painfully aware).

(Baby & family stuff here!)

So. If you're AFAB, the reality is you and Rocky will have one ... or several ... scares, unless you're very diligent. Look, his pull-out game is shit because he just gets so caught up in the affection and being with you. Hell, that may be what led to the elopement in the first place, spurred on by a healthy dose of Catholic guilt and maaaaybe a family member's shotgun.

Just like the whole 'Finding the Most Wonderful Love of His Life' thing, Rocky didn't think children were anywhere in his future. If any thoughts were given to it, he might assume he'd been a poor parent, because isn't he a screw-up with anything else? What example did Rocky have, anyway - a dad who basically abandoned his family when they needed him most? He does his worrying and anxiety spiralling in private, but it'd be easy for anyone to pick up on it. Of course he thinks you'll do wonderfully, but the chaotic tabby has little hope for himself.

(If you also have no idea what you're doing, congrats! It's utter chaos. And you think anyone at Lackadaisy knows what to do? Also nope! Godspeed!!)

But the thing is, Rocky is quite good with the kitten once they start crawling and exploring. He has the energy level to keep up with them, and he naturally encourages the kiddo to explore and play more. The tot being noisy or fussy or agitated doesn't faze him much; Rocky quickly picks up when they just want attention and playtime or if something is actually upsetting them. I think he'd also sing and play music to soothe them, like his mom used to do when he was restless.

(Also the three of you going out for a picnic or playing in the park and he's just! So happy!! He really had his own tiny family that loves him. He doesn't care if the kitten claws up his back when they're startled or eat grass and immediately vomit or drop their toy into the park fountain. That's his baby!)

Also, at least one (but realistically most) of his kiddos would also have ADHD. Obviously in this time period there's no recognition or diagnosis, but it's easy to notice if his kid has similar 'odd' behaviors and mannerisms. Anywhere from the hyperactivity, to fidgeting and chattering, to sudden focus on things that interest them. I think anytime his child seems to act like him, even if it's considered "misbehavior", he just melts and can't find it in himself to scold them. Rocky would generally be the forgiving, fun and permissive parent, much as his own mother was. He'd also worry about being too absent; normally no one cared when he was gone for days (or weeks ...), but now there's a little one who can't even handle him being gone for an evening. No Rocky you can't strap the kitten to your back and take them everywhere....

Notably if the kitten was neuroatypical in a different way, or disabled - either deaf, or they struggle to walk, etc, Rocky picks up on this quickly. He'd be good about thinking up accommodations or ways for them to get about the world easier, and patient, so very patient. Making up hand signs? Jury rigging a mobility aid? Recognizing when a place might be too overwhelming for the kid? Figuring out exactly which textures are upsetting for them? It may shock people how observant he is about these things - and, given the time period, he could be seen as too "indulgent". Okay he's definitely an overly indulgent parent in other ways, but in this case, Rocky is quite fixated. He's very familiar what it's like being on the outside and disregarded.

He absolutely wants to teach his kiddo music, and likes singing to them and rattling off poetry when it comes to him. The household is full of music and art in general, especially if you're artistically inclined yourself. He'll gather all sorts of unusual books to read to them (even if they're too young for it, his voice is nice to listen to). He's the parent who keeps literally anything his kid makes him and gets happy and emotional all over again when he sees it. He's also the parent who can't deny his kiddo when they've had a bad dream or are afraid of the dark ... so either he falls asleep on the couch with them, or he carries them back to y'all's bedroom.

It goes without saying that Rocky's going to continue his criminal activities. If anything, he's been spurred on even more in order to support you and the kitten, especially if this is after 1929; the kids would be growing up during the worst of the Great Depression. This could either be a point of contention between you and Rocky, if you aren't doubling down on the crime yourself.

(Personally I HC that, if he had a family to provide for, he'd 100% stay involved with crime even after Prohibition and/or the Lackadaisy is gone. What other choices are there?)

Note if you're masc and had a kiddo from a previous relationship, a lot of these HCs still apply! Rocky would still find himself bonding with them and being delighted by how much they seem to care for him. He likes noticing the mannerisms that are just like your's, and how their faces mimic your own expressions. They'd refer to him as "uncle Rocky" but sometimes they'll slip and say "papa". Which totally doesn't make him want to cry or anything.

[briarvalleyarchives]

ᴅɪᴀꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀ

╰┈➤ ❝ the thorn fairy's grand legacy lives on and grows with her descendants. the most powerful of the fae, descended from the dragons, may grow to observe history unfold silently or shape the world with the path they walk. ❞

[f.], [m.] → female / male reader respectively | [pl.] → platonic | [g.] → general / no reader | [sug.] → suggestive | [hc] → headcanons | [os] → oneshot | [sh.] → short scenario | [s.] → part of a series | [a.] → angst

with a baby dragon [hc]

ᴍᴀʟʟᴇᴜꜱ ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏɴɪᴀ

"your hands are cold" [sh.]

5 love languages [hc]

a lesson for the young prince [poem]

a love, cherished dearly [sh.]

a quiet moment [m. | pl. or romantic | os]

a wistful heart concealed by thorns [f. | a. | os]

amusement park date [hc]

basorexia [os]

brushing his hair [pl. | hc]

chernabog!mc [hc]

cuddle time [hc]

dancing [poem]

dancing with him [hc]

dinner & deception [g. | os]

domestic headcanons [hc]

eating instant ramen at 2am with him [hc]

first time saying 'i love you' [os]

flicker [g. | a. | os]

flirting with him [hc]

fluff alphabet: o [hc]

giving him mint chocolate on valentine's day [hc]

how he loses you [a. | os]

inescapable [poem]

i want to hold the hand inside you [hc]

legacy [g. | a. | os]

love languages [hc]

malleus x gn!ace!reader [os]

meet the (grand)parent [os]

mornings with malleus [hc]

of obscure sorrows [pl. | os]

pumpkin patch [m. | hc]

redamancy [os]

sharing a tent with him [hc]

sharing stealing clothes [sh.]

spending valentine's day with him [hc]

spoiling him with love and affection [hc]

study date [hc]

the dragon in the woods [pl. | os]

the kind of heart (i can bet my life on) [f. | a. | os]

they're all here because of you [os]

we light up (like the stars in the sky) [f. | sh.]

when his s/o tells him he's their favorite [hc]

when you faint because of the heat [hc]

wide awake [os]

winged surprise [os]

with an asexual s/o [hc]

with an s/o who has social anxiety [hc]

with an s/o who is a writer [hc]

ʟɪʟɪᴀ ᴠᴀɴʀᴏᴜɢᴇ

"i just wanted to make sure you're okay" [sh.]

5 love languages [hc]

cheering you up when you're not feeling well [hc]

choices [g. | a. | os]

counting, counting [g. | a. | os]

cuddle time [hc]

dream on [a. | os]

easily flustered s/o [hc]

in cold [poem]

last [a. | os]

lives run with time [poem]

love languages [hc]

one gift [g. | os]

reacting to a sudden ambush [hc]

sleep tight, my dears [g. | a. | os]

spring song [g. | os]

staying awake [g. | a. | s.]

tackling overworked s/o [hc]

the cry of new lives [poem]

the day is won [g. | a. | os]

the next tale [g. | os]

thread and thunder [g. | a. | s.]

treppenwitz [g. | s.]

until his turn [g. | a. | os]

wanting a second chance [hc]

when you faint because of the heat [hc]

winter watch [g. | os]

ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ

5 love languages [hc]

after i'm gone [poem]

cannot wait [g. | os]

character death + illness [a. | os]

choices [g. | a. | os]

fluff alphabet: djn [hc]

going to a restaurant with him [hc]

human tongue [poem]

impending spring [poem]

of books and pretty boys [os]

one gift [g. | os]

staying awake [g. | a. | s.]

the next tale [g. | os]

thread and thunder [g. | a. | s.]

until his turn [g. | a. | os]

s/o coughing up blood [hc]

ꜱᴇʙᴇᴋ ᴢɪɢᴠᴏʟᴛ

5 love languages [hc]

au where he plays twst [g. | hc]

dealing with the bullies who beat up s/o [hc]

fluff alphabet: djn [hc]

racoons interrupt your date [hc]

radiohead [a. | sh.]

when he falls in love [hc]

when mc turns into a baby [hc]

[effloradox]

Your thomas thorne stuff is great. Do you have any more lined up?

Anyone fancy a bit of angst?

Warnings: Thomas' death, mention of gunshots, slight divergence of canon

You're not accustomed to being awake before the sun has risen. You're not naturally inclined to early mornings, much more content to wake up long after the sun has risen, so it's with a level of discomfort that you realise how early it is that you've woken up. It's still dark outside from what you can tell and you tempted to turn over and fall back asleep. It's only when your eye catches sight of a letter slipped under your bedroom door that you decide to get up to see what it is.

You recognise the handwriting as being Thomas' and it brings a smile to your face almost instantly. Thinking it to be a new poem you eagerly turn the letter over in your hand, breaking the wax seal and releasing it from its envelope. The first thought you have is that it must be a very short poem as it only has two lines.

I love you dearly.

Should something happen to me, I'm terribly sorry.

You go still as you process the words. You feel your stomach drop as anxiety builds in your chest. It's all you can do to get dressed as quickly as possible, heading out of your room and downstairs as soon as you're decent.

The next sign that something is very wrong is when you spot Isabelle walking into one of the drawing rooms. She's never been seen awake before sunrise either and you're quick to follow her into the room.

"Where's Thomas?" Any pleasantries she was about to say die on Isabelle's tongue as she takes in your disheveled state. It's early, too early for you to be awake, and she had hoped to avoid you completely for the next few hours.

"I- I'm not sure." You know she's lying to you. Can feel something in your chest telling you that your friend is concealing the truth from you.

"Isabelle, please." You watch your friend closely, waiting for her to speak again.

The sound of a gunshot rings through the air, startling you and Isabelle. You're no fool, you see the way your friend's eyes dart towards the window in the aftermath of the shot. You waste no time hurrying to the window, your eyes scanning for any signs of your missing betrothed.

Your heart stops when you see him, leaning against the base of a tree looking paler than could ever be considered healthy. The next few moments dissappear in a blur as you move without thinking, running out the front door.

"Thomas!" Despite it all, his face lights up when he sees you running towards him. He tries to lift himself to his feet, but his face crumbles into a grimace as pain shoots through him at the movement, and he manoeuvres himself back to resting against the tree.

"My love, you shouldn’t be out on a day like this, you might catch a chill." You're about to make a comment about how he's more likely to catch a chill in just a shirt and waistcoat when you look down and something crimson catches your eye. It's with growing horror that you spot the bloodstain blossoming over his waistcoat.

"What happened?"

"My cousin thought it appropriate to besmirch your reputation in my presence. He had to be held accountable."

"Thomas."

"My cousin is better than me in almost every way, I accepted that a long time ago. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you to him though."

"I belong to you, don't you realise that? My heart is bleeding in your hands, Thomas." You take his hand in yours, pressing it to your chest. You feel like your heart is fluttering like a hummingbird, and part of you prays that he can't tell how much you're panicking as blood continues to stain his clothes.

"I believe it is actually my heart bleeding right now." He winces slightly as another wave of pain passes over him, his grip on your hand tightening.

It's with growing agony that you see his focus on you start to slip away as his breathing speeds up. His breaths are erratic and inconsistent, and a horrible part of you knows that the man you love is going to die in front of you.

You make sure to keep squeezing his hand, muttering sweet nothings and gentle words under your breath to him until his breathing starts to quieten. You'll be damned if you don't make sure he knows just how much you love him in these final moments of his life.

The first tears start to fall when he finally goes quiet, and then all at once, it's like the dam breaks. The shock gives way to anguish as the morning's events finally settle into your mind.

The dawn begins to break over the two of you as you cradle him into your chest, the only sounds your broken sobs and the quiet birdsong in the distance.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hello I really like your works and idk if you have done something like this before but could you do some Hero comforting Villian after they lost their memory?

Tears welled out the hero’s face as they put their arms up. A sad attempt at keeping themselves alive.

“Please,” they whispered. “If you must. Then make it quick.”

Ever since the villain had started attacking them, there had been a flame in their eyes. It was so violent, so unsettling, it made the hero shiver in fear, and right now, this blaze developed into a blazing fire.

“Shut up,” the villain hissed. They could do it. They could end the hero’s life quickly right here, right now — straddling their hips, weapon in hand. A human that had turned into a monster.

“I love you,” the hero said.

A crush that had turned into a nightmare.

“Stop—” the villain punched them “saying—” and again “—that.” and for the final time.

The hero knew what pain was, knew it better than anyone else in the city. The hero knew what loss was. And yet, what exactly was this?

They felt the fear and humiliation drowning them in a thick liquid of blood and innards as desperation and grief mixed together a poisonous pill for them to swallow. They let out a wet cough.

Face pulsing, body covered in blood — they were ready to give up. What did it matter? What did it matter if the only person worth living a life with had turned against them? Had lost all their memories and wanted to kill them now?

“I love you,” the hero repeated, wheezing. Because that was all there was left. Despite being nearly dead, they loved the villain.

The fight had been anything but short and the villain had always been the stronger one out of the both of them. Long story short. The hero was bleeding out quickly.

“I don’t even know who you are,” the villain spat. “But I know I have to kill you.”

They’d met when the hero had saved them unintentionally during a mission. The villain had been imprisoned and the hero had just decided to break that door open. Lots of bickering. But also the first time the hero had developed a crush on someone.

“You’re hesitant.”

“I am not.” The villain grabbed a knife, pushing it into the hero’s skin, provoking to cut their aorta.

“Your hand is shaking. Your hands always shake when you panic,” the hero said. They closed their eyes and imagined what it would feel like if the love of their life would cut their throat.

“What?”

“You like canned soup,” the hero said. Another tear streamed down their face. Exhaustion. “You wake up at 4:30 each morning. You hate running. You hate the news. You hate television and you hate hotdogs.”

The villain stared at them, restraining themselves. Deft hands were holding their weapons. But their eyes showed a penchant that was familiar to the hero.

“You love snakes. You like fog. You love tea and you love poems,” the hero whispered. “And I love you. Truly. Dearly. Completely.”

They laughed tiredly. “I’ve never told you before but…it’s true.”

“You’re a target I need to kill,” the villain said. “You’re nothing more to me.”

And the hero laughed again. They reached out a hand and their fingertips brushed the villain’s cheek, smeared a bit of blood over it.

“Oh, my silly villain,” they said. “Who did this to you?”

Their thumb brushed over the villain’s skin lovingly, slowly.

“Let me help you. Please.” The villain took their time, staring at the hero with an expression that indicated yearning. Contrary to the hero’s expectations, they didn’t push away their hand. They let it stay.

They closed their eyes, pained.

“Like I said, I don’t know who you are,” they said. Eventually they stood up, eyes going over the hero’s wounds.

They threw a burner phone to their feet, looking at the hero.

“Call yourself an ambulance.”

And with that, they vanished.

[horseimagebarn]

hello friends welcome to the horseimagebarn weekly recap where every friday i respond to your messages reblogs asks comments and all that jazz in one fun post

i have no news for you today so let us begin

it is fascinating to see animals that would likely never meet without human intervention meet due to simple circumstance especially since the mentioned creatures are both rodents falsely called pigs as groundhogs are often called whistlepigs in the southern united states

poodles are so funny that is delightful i have a four pound yorkie poodle at my parents house and she believes with her whole entire heart that she can and will kill a deer she refuses to believe me when i tell her otherwise

i am glad my identity brings you comfort and joy my friends i appreciate you all dearly

i am glad my account has brought you joy in trying times dear friend i wish you luck in your studies for you are doing a good thing studying our siblings of this earth i live not cross country or even cross state but as someone attending college i understand the heap of horrible feelings moving for school can bring and i wish you luck i pray your new home shall accept you and you it with time

i hope that it goes well my friend equine therapy sounds like a wonderful thing and i wish you and the horses luck and peace

i read this poem after seeing this reblog and wow what a beautiful poem i loved it so much and i thank you for bringing my attention to such a wonderful piece of literature it resonated with me and how i think about animals and their ideas and experiences of being compared to ours as humans

do not fear it sometimes does that it should go away after a little bit

do not summon that villain into my barn

shoutout lesley

[petaltexturedskies]

One day I will be old, you said; let's say while hanging up the wash—the sheets, the pillowcases—with their white smell of June rain in the years when you still did that and pear blossoms fell around you joyous as weddings.

Margaret Atwood, from "One day" in Dearly: New Poems