#i want to crack him in two like a glowstick

[mak-be-ghouled]

silly little phantom/swiss moment based on my post about how when phantom cracks his knuckles/joints quintessence is released and he lights up like a glow stick and the lovely @tinyluvs tags on said post

It’s the middle of the night and Phantom has found himself, once again, passed out on his bedroom floor, galaxy projector still diffusing soft colors all around him.

Phantom considers just staying where he is and hoping sleep takes him back, but now that he’s present enough to feel the floor under his body, he realizes how much every inch of him is just aching.

He stomach also- unhelpfully- reminds him that Yes, he did in fact miss dinner, opting to escape to his bedroom before the chaos of chattering and clanking plates filled every part of his brain and then some.

He’s not even sure why everything just felt so much today- or yesterday he supposes- but it did and he just needed to escape a bit before he lashed out for no reason or freaked out over something silly.

But, despite his utter lack of energy to get up and do anything, let alone make a meal- or finding something that will at least suffice- he drags himself off of the floor of his room.

Apparently, his body is at least attempting to riot the change in position because as he begins standing he has to steady himself against the wall, lest he pass out and find himself in the same situation he had just minutes ago.

Once his vision decides to clear up enough that he can straighten his back fully, several little pops can be heard along with swirls of quintessence. Straightening his knees is paired with their own cracks of quintessence, as he basically resets his entire body, he swears just about every joint in his body needs to crack before he’ll ever make it to the kitchen.

Phantom looks down at his hands, he can’t help but smile to himself as he remembers Cirrus’ comment the other day about looking like a glowstick when the quintessence settled in his joints like this.

Heading to the ghoul kitchen, Phantom hears someone else banging around in there and finds Swiss elbow deep in a bag of chips, presumably treating his ever persistent munchies if the smell of weed is anything to go by.

As Phantom opens the pantry, in search of, really anything that will stop his stomach from yelling at him, Swiss lets out a muffled shout, stumbling backwards before catching himself on the kitchen island.

Phantom jumps a bit himself, suddenly startled by Swiss’ reaction but begins laughing under his breath when he realizes why.

This isn’t the first time Phantom has scared Swiss like this and certainly will not be the last.

“Your body is so fuckin weird bug”

Swiss manages out through disbelieving laughter, no matter how many times he whitnesses this quirk of Phantom’s, it’ll always catch him a bit off guard, and in all honestly his blunt from half an hour ago probably isn’t helping.

“Oh really? I had no idea” Phantom replies through his own fit of giggles.

“Oh Yeahhhh” Swiss teases, closing the space between the two, crowding Phantom back into the counter behind him. Swiss begins nuzzling into Phantom’s neck as he lifts him into the counter.

Phantom’s giggles never cease as he starts pawing at Swiss’ arms, no actual intent on stopping him anytime soon.

Yeah, snacks can wait for a bit, Swiss will probably even offer to make him whatever he wants later

Phantom decides when Swiss finally pulls away only for Phantom to pull him back into a deep kiss of his own.

[shalalalalaw]

rhulk-i-will-hunt-my-own-people-for-sport-because-i-was-hunted-for-sport, the Disciple

i want to make him worse

[artanticaa]

Tattoo Shop Au HAHA

Okay, picture this (this is not like a fic it is just my ideas):

Marc crams himself in his shop late at night, long after he flipped the "open" sign to "close", and he hunches over in his chair, frantically scribbling design idea, the thoughts in his head moving much faster than what he can do with the pen, but he tries to keep up as to not let any idea slip through the cracks.

He loves that people want to get tattoos from him, but late at night he bites his nails, wondering how he is going to top himself with the next tattoo. Álex knows this, knows that if he wants to find Marc at midnight on a Friday, he should start with the shop. So that is exactly what he does. He has a spare key so he lets himself in and walks to the back to grab Marc.

He throws a shirt at Marc and tells him to get up, that there's a new club in the city and he thinks it would be good for Marc to get out and let loose a little. Marc agrees but very reluctantly, putting on the tank top Álex brought for him.

Little does Marc know, this new club's little theme is UV/black lights. When the two of them get to the little sign outside a small door tucked into a busy street labeled "Neon" Marc is already like, oh no absolutely not, but Álex pushes him in, already seeing the tattoos that cover Marc's arms, legs, neck, and face start to glow.

Marc doesn't like to respond to people when they give him shit for being "a tattoo artist with no tattoos" because, why get into that argument. In reality he is actually covered from head to toe in UV tattoos, which don't show up under normal light, they only show up under black light. So he just lets people believe he has no tattoos.

However, when he gets into this club, he lights up like a glowstick LOL. What he doesn't know is that earlier that night, Valentino's two little gremlin children convinced him to go out with them to a :new club" in the city as well. Pecco and Bez spot someone turned away from them from across the room and they notice all the glowing tattoos decorating his body and tap Vale on the shoulder and tell him to look.

*cue dramatic turn around*

Marc turns around to look at the scene and Pecco, Bez, and Vale are able to see that it is him, the bottom half of his face covered in what looks to be a realistic skull tattoo, from his nose down it almost looks like those x-rays you get at a dentist office.

And like after that, ya know, whole big shock factor, people are looking blah blah. IDK MAN I wanna make a comic of that.

also shout out my beloved best friend @vanillow for yelling with me abt it

[fanficsbysteve]

Morning Bliss

Author Note: And thus ended this little trilogy of ideas that I had. Thanks everyone for the likes and reading these stories of mine. I'm working on some other ideas right now. I have a Christmas one that I love and maybe a few other ideas. I also accept Prompts if anyone wants to send those my way. Its not necessary but if you wanted to read them in order it goes Part 1 and Part 2

Rating: PG

W/C: 3408

***

                Tommy was comfortable in bed, relaxing, just staring at the ceiling of the bedroom. Three different bodies were snoring around him. Evan was sprawled across the bed, legs crossing Tommy’s, his torso pushed up against his own. Arms a jumbled mess. He was snoring lightly. The other two were snoring very loudly. Evan had wanted the dogs. So, after meeting them 4 years ago, the two decided to adopt them. So now Mitzi and Bitzi were lying sprawled across the end of the bed. Tommy had the barest sliver on the bed, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He had gotten used to sleeping as a board on one spot, not moving during his army years.

                Another creature decided to make itself known. Their Orange cat Pickles jumped up onto the bed and started to knead on Tommy’s chest. No claws. They had not declawed her, that would have been cruel, but they did make sure that her claws were trimmed as often as they were brave enough to get scratches everywhere.

                Tommy brought his hand up and started to stroke Pickles across the back as she made biscuits on him. He never understood why everyone called it ‘making biscuits’. As far as he knew you barely kneaded biscuit dough. That’s how it got its flakes and everything. What cats did was more like kneading bread or buns. He was thinking way too into this. Pickles started purring gently as Tommy gave her the love she so desperately deserved.

                “Morning,” A voice came from Tommy’s side. Evan had woken up with the purring it seems. This man could sleep through anything, except the cat purring for some reason.

                “Morning,” Tommy leaned over and gave Evan a deep kiss, “Sleep well?”

                “I was until Pickles here decided to start making her crescendo,” Evan smiled and reached over to stroke the cat as well.

                “I’m still not sure how a cat purring gently wakes you up,” Tommy gestured to the cat, “While the pair of chainsaws at the end of the bed do nothing.” The two dogs both snored loudly at that, the perfect moment. The movement of the bed is not waking them up at all.

                “Well, I’m used to the chainsaws,” Evan said, “You aren’t exactly silent when you sleep,” Evan winked.

                “I don’t know what you mean,” Tommy smiled. He carefully lifted Pickles off his chest, “Ugh there is too much to do today,” He felt his knees being annoying as he stood up. The joys of getting older. All your joints crack like you are a walking talking glowstick, but they refuse to glow, which was very rude of them. As if on cue, he stood up and felt both of his knees crack and his back a bit.

                “Well, you are retired now you know,” Evan stated, “So you have all the time in the world to do whatever you want.”

                Tommy had retired from the LAFD. He was in his mid-forties now. And all the work he had been doing had started to catch up with him. He wasn’t worried though. Evan was still working for the LAFD, and they already owned the house. When they had decided to move in together all those years ago, Evan had sold his loft, and Tommy had sold his house. If they were going to move in together then they should start fresh. Not ‘Evan’s loft’ or ‘Tommy’s house.’ They wanted a place that was both of theirs that didn’t come with any previous baggage. They pooled their assets together and bought a nice house in Ontario. The drive to work for them was murder somedays depending on the traffic, but it was a home of their own. Evan got an amazingly huge kitchen to bake and cook and do whatever culinary endeavors he wants. Tommy managed to bring his Car life with him so he could still do that work. Within a few years of them moving, Evan had been offered a promotion to the LAFD in Ontario. He wasn’t sure he should take it, as it would have taken him away from his 118 family, but each and every one of them had pushed him to take it. So, in the end with everyone supporting him, and promising to come see his new firehouse, Evan agreed to become the Captain of the 368.

                Out of bed, and joints no longer making a weird popping noise, Tommy heads to the stairs heading down from the second floor to the first floor. This was one of the few two-story houses in the area. Being in California, they didn’t have many houses with multiple floors. Not very earthquake safe. But this house called to the two of them. So, the stairs and second floor were part of the deal. The floors were mildly cold this morning, but Tommy wasn’t bothered by it. The cold helped to wake up his senses while he walked down the stairs. As he walked, he heard a noise coming from the bedroom. The dogs had woken up and Evan was playing with them. He got down the stairs and went to the kitchen to start the coffee. Evan wouldn’t forgive him if he messed up the kitchen in his attempts to make breakfast. The kitchen was his domain and Tommy respected that.

                He walked to the front door, the morning newspaper sitting there waiting. Call him old but he did prefer to read his news in an actual newspaper sometimes. Plus, he got to do a crossword with Evan which was always fun. His husband and all this random knowledge made it easier. Setting up at the table, Tommy waited for the coffee to be done. A stampede of noise came from the stairs and Tommy knew that Evan and the dogs were on the way down. Breakfast would be soon.

                When they entered the kitchen, Bitzi beelined her way towards Tommy. Each of the dogs had their favorite human. Bitzi really liked Tommy while Mitzi loved Evan. That’s not to say that they didn’t like other humans, they just knew their favorites. Tommy reached down and started to scratch Bitzi behind her ear, “And how are you doing today my Bitzi-boo?”

                Her tail was wagging and beating against the table leg. He loved this dog so much, “Did you want to go outside?” he asked the dog.

                Saying the magic word, Bitzi and Mitzi both went into an insane level of zoomies around the house, Tommy stood up from the table and head to the door to the backyard. Opening the door, the two dogs ran outside to do their business. Tommy left the door open, while closing the screen door, letting a nice breeze into the room, “So what did you have planned for breakfast?” Tommy asked as he went towards the kitchen. Evan had already started to make something for them.

                “I’m thinking some biscuits and gravy. It’s something we had that time we went to Texas to visit the Reyes-Strands,” Evan explained, “It’s been a while, and I have all the stuff to make fresh biscuits.”

                “That sounds amazing,” Tommy said. He chuckled a little, “I still can’t get over how TK clocked you before you even knew it yourself. His 'I knew it!' and looking triumphant was worth it.”

                “Quiet you,” Evan playfully snapped, “I was still uncertain. Remember how I was all ‘I’m an Ally’ when we first went out? It took a while to figure out what I wanted. Besides, I think he expected me to be with Eddie which would have been so weird.”

                “That would have been very weird indeed,” Tommy winked, “So what do you want me to do to help with this?”

                “Well, I don’t trust you to make the biscuits,” Tommy’s face had a hurt look on it, “You just aren’t that good with baking. So, I won’t need your help until they are in the oven.”

                “Well, I guess I’ll just go sit over at the table and start my crossword then,” Tommy pouted as he went towards his chair. When he got there, he found Pickles stretched across the chair, belly up, “Excuse me miss, you seem to be sitting in my spot,” Pickles made a pawing action at Tommy which he found adorable. He scooped the orange cat up in his hands and brought her up close, feeling her purring into his chest. While the dogs were a joint adoption, Pickles was solely something that Tommy had brought with them. She was a stray that he had started feeding about a decade ago. Eventually she moved in with him and has been with him ever since.

                Sitting in his chair, Pickles purring contently on his lap, Tommy started to do the morning crossword. He did all the easy ones first. Something he didn’t need to ask for help with. Small victories at the start. Soon it got to the harder ones, so he sighed, “What’s a 6-letter word for ‘ear bone’?”

                Evan was busy working away on his biscuit dough. He had today off work, so he didn’t need to rush through breakfast. On these days, Tommy was spoiled. He really didn’t deserve this man but somehow, they have made it work for the past 7 years, “Stapes,” Evan said aloud and spelled it.

                “Thanks, love,” Tommy said filling in the boxes. That gave him the answers to another few before he needed help again. At that moment, however, there was a gentle pawing at the screen door. The dogs wanted to be let in.

                Tommy was about to put down his newspaper when Evan said, “I’ve got it. Need to let the dough rest a bit,” Tommy continued with his crossword, “And how did My Bitches enjoy their time outside?”

                Tommy sighed, “I really wish you wouldn’t call them that.”

                “Why not?” Evan was rubbing both their heads before letting them go towards their food and water bowls, “It’s the correct terminology. A female dog is referred to as a bitch. So calling them my bitches is just me calling them my female dogs.”

                “It just feels weird,” Tommy replied, “Seven letter word. ‘kneecap’.”

                “Patella,” Evan responded back in the kitchen. He washed his hands before going back to making the biscuits. The oven beeped that it had reached the temperature for baking, “You should know that. Aren’t you a firefighter?”

                “I was a pilot,” Tommy filled in the letters, “There were medics on hand for that kind of stuff. I just had to focus on making sure that we didn’t crash.”

                “I just had an idea,” Evan said, “Something to keep you occupied all these retired days.”

                “And that would be?”

                “Well, I know you miss flying,” Evan started to roll out the dough and start cutting it into circles, “And they always want either flying instructors or those ‘Fly over LA’ tour things. Could be something.”

                Tommy looked contemplative. He did miss flying. But did he really want to be some kind of tour guide to the city? He doesn’t really know much about the city he’s spent the past couple of decades living here, “Not sure I would be good as a tour guide. I know exactly nothing about LA except where stuff burned down.”

                “Oh, you can probably just be the pilot who flies people around,” Evan explained, “They give you a route you fly over. Someone else does the talking.”

                “I’ll look into it,” Tommy smiled. He really did miss the flying. And anything that could get him back into the air was very welcome, “Do you remember the first time we met?”

                “How could I forget,” Evan stopped what he was doing for a second to look wistfully into nothing, “Flying into a hurricane to rescue Bobby and Athena after their cruise ship pulled a Poseidon.”

                “I’m sure you know this, but after we landed and the reunions started,” Tommy looked at Evan, “The moment you touched my shoulder. That’s the moment that I knew you were the one for me. I don’t know how, but I just knew it then and there.”

                “And yet,” Evan continued with his biscuits, lying them nicely on a baking tray, “Let’s not forget the time you broke up with me. That wasn’t very smart of you.”

                “Yes well,” Tommy coughed. Evan smiled at him, “As we all know I’ve had to deal with plenty of trauma’s growing up and I didn’t think that I would live up to the ideal that you had for me.”

                “Well, you were the only man I ever wanted,” Evan replied, “And even during all that dating while we were apart, I could only compare everyone to you. This person wasn’t tall enough, this person’s eyes were the wrong color, this person didn’t have your way of speaking. Just a bunch of judgements that I couldn’t stop because deep down, I knew you were the one for me as well.”

                “Looks like we were both smart enough in the end,” Tommy smiled. He had stopped his crossword puzzle at this point. Just content with their cat on his lap, the dogs lying around the kitchen while Evan did the cooking like he always preferred.

                Once the biscuits were in the oven, Evan let Tommy know that he could reenter the kitchen and help with the cooking, “I’ll get you to start browning the sausage,” Evan should really have been a chef in a kitchen. He knew his way around a kitchen better than anyone else he knew, but he loved saving people as a firefighter more than anything. It had given him purpose all those years ago when he first started at the 118. It still gives him purpose today even though he does spend a large amount of time behind a desk now.

                Evan hovered over Tommy as he browned the sausage, “You do know that I can do this,” Tommy smiled as he kept moving the meat around the pan, but leaned in and snuck a kiss from his husband, “Browning meat isn’t the most difficult thing in the world.”

                “I’ve been watching my probies mess things up for too many weeks I guess,” Evan chuckled and stepped back, “I don’t think they could tell the difference between a farfalle, and a cavatappi if I didn’t point it out to them.”

                “I wouldn’t be able to tell either,” Tommy finished with browning the sausage, he then took a step ahead before Evan had a chance to tell him and started by adding a dab of butter for a bit more fat in the pan, and then started to sprinkle in flour to make the roux, “I only know the Italian names because you insist on using them all the time. Us non-culinarily inclined individuals just call them bowties and corkscrews,” letting the flour cook off a bit, to a blond roux, Tommy then added the milk into the pan.

                “Yes well,” Evan coughed, “You seem to have things handled here. I’ll check on the biscuits,” Thankfully they had decided to spend a bit more and had some high-end kitchen equipment ordered when they moved in. Evan had wanted a gas stove, so they got that, and kept the oven separate from the stovetop. That was one of the things he really wanted. That way when he was cooking, he could bake and cook at the same time and check on things. Or like right now, when Tommy was helping to cook, they didn’t need to worry about things burning while one of them was trying to move out of the way to get to the oven.

                The biscuits weren’t ready yet, but they were close, the sausage gravy smelled delicious though. Tommy dipped his pinky into the gravy, getting a slight burning from it and tasted it before starting to add some salt and pepper and a few herbs. Always taste and adjust as you cook is the motto in this kitchen. After mixing a bit, Tommy grabbed a spoon from the drawer next to the stovetop and scooped a little onto the spoon and offered it to Evan, “Let me know if it’s missing anything.”

                Evan took the spoon and tasted the gravy. He clicked his tongue a little and asked, “You added something new from the last time we made this.”

                “Bit more sage,” Tommy admitted, “I like the flavour it adds and the sausage we have doesn’t have enough for my liking.”

                “Tastes good,” Evan admitted, “I’ll have to keep that in mind. We should start making our own sausage instead of buying it all the time. Get the blends that we enjoy.”

                “We are going to turn into that couple that cans and stores and grows everything aren’t we,” Tommy laughed.

                “I mean it wouldn’t be that big of a stretch for me to do that,” Evan joked, “But I don’t think we have enough time right now with my work and you’re piloting.”

                “You know I haven’t decided on that,” Tommy said, “You only brought it up maybe 10 minutes ago.”

                “I know how much being in the air means to you,” Evan replied, “And I know that regardless of your thoughts on it, you will end up looking at something like the tour guide thing. I’m willing to bet on it.”

                “And what are you willing to bet?” Tommy asked, “You know we share everything already so there isn’t much you can bet with.”

                “Oh, I have my ways,” Evan pulled the biscuits out of the oven. Perfectly brown. Nice and fluffy. Tommy had no idea how he managed to do that every single time without fail, “Maybe I’ll show you some of my ways later tonight.”

                “Learned some new tricks?” Tommy was very curious.

                “That’s for me to know and you to find out if you think you can handle it,” Evan started to split the biscuits and dishing up the fresh made breakfast.

                They went to the table and started to eat, “So what plans have you made for us this weekend?”

                Evan took a bite of his meal and before replying, “Well I wanted to go check out that Market down in Orange. Maybe take a walk around La Brea if we have time. Just nice little things to get us out.”

                “Well,” Tommy had an idea that he wanted to bring up with Evan, “We could always ask your sister if we can take Jee out for a day. You know I love having her around.”

                “I love having her around as well,” Evan said, “It would be up to Maddie and Chim, but I don’t think we would have trouble with it. We might also get roped into taking Philip with us as well. Make a family day of it. Maybe check out Disney. They might have some new things to check out.”

                “Evan,” Tommy got serious for a second, “We’ve been together for six years, married for three.”

                “Best six years of my life,” Evan leaned over to give Tommy a heartfelt kiss, “I wouldn’t change anything. I have you, we have Pickles, and we have my bitches.”

                Tommy groaned, “Yes well,” He continued, “I’ve been wondering. Instead of me going off and being a pilot again. We could visit Hen and Karen. They could get us in contact with an adoption agency,” Evans eyes lit up at the mention of it, “I know one thing you’ve always wanted is to be a father. And let’s face it, the chances of one of us getting pregnant is impossible.”

                “And yet we continue to try,” Evan smirked.

                “Yes, we do,” Tommy laughed, “But what if we adopted. Someone would need to stay home and since I’m retired now. Well, I could stay home. Become a stay-at-home dad.”

                Evan’s eyes were just two balls of light and happiness, “This is one of the most personal things you have ever asked of me. I know you didn’t have a wonderful time growing up, so you didn’t want to have that kind of life for a child. But I know you aren’t your father. You would give any child the greatest life.”

                Tommy smiled. He didn’t want to become his father. He would try to not become that person, but having Evan think this about him? That was worth more than anything, “WE would give any child the greatest life,” Tommy reached out and gave Evan’s a hand a nice tight squeeze, “We would do this together. Let’s get your niece and nephew and do some practice this weekend. And let’s see if we can ask Hen and Karen about adoption.”

                Evan just squeezed Tommy’s hand. The look of elation on Evan’s face made all the pain in the past, any kind of troubles they have had worth it. They would do this and they would make a family. Evan, Tommy, Pickles, Mitzi, Bitzi, and a child. A child that needed a family and they would make theirs with them. Tommy smiled so all the crinkles in his face showed up. This would be the perfect future for them.

***

Thanks for reading this. Let me know what you think. I love reading comments on what you thought so let me know. Constructive Criticism is also accepted.

Love, Steve

[citrinesparkles]

cold hands

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 789 words. notes: i started this in december i swear it was seasonally appropriate at the time warnings: n/a

he scooped your hands into his own, cupping them together and bringing them to his face smoothly.

he caught your eye with a small smirk. you knew him well enough to know he wasn't really smug- he was looking for your reaction, a silent is this okay wrapped up in his confident expression. the large, colorful lights strung across the shop front you had stopped in front of were reflected in his eyes, but he was focused entirely on you.

you slipped your thumb out of his hold and ran it over his own.

jason took it for the invitation it was and exhaled heavily over your frigid fingers, looking down to them.

you, though? you kept your gaze right where it was.

he was beautiful, you thought. a strong jaw and handful of faded scars were contrasted by the softness of his eyes, his red (garnet, you remembered him saying with a little self-aware grin, not red- that was a work color, and you weren't work) knit hat bringing out the green in them. he was bathed in an orangey-pink from the décor behind you, and you almost wanted to pull a hand back to take a picture.

almost.

"i'm buying you some damn gloves," he muttered without heat, laughter buried in his tone as he gently massaged your fingers.

"and put my personal hand warmer out of a job?"

"he's creative. he'll find another one."

you let out a small huff of laughter, the sound turning to fog between the two of you. you pulled your hands out of his grasp- earning a raised eyebrow- and pushed forward to take hold of the front of his jacket, gently pulling him into kissing range.

as always, he adapted almost instantly. "see?" he asked quietly, his palms finding your hips. "a new job opened up pretty quick."

"shut up," you mumbled fondly, pressing your lips to his.

the warmth in your chest absolutely erupted, the sweet, familiar feeling of his lips- of his presence- making your heart and mind go the same sugar-sweet shade of pink.

"i love you," you pulled back to whisper firmly, grip tightening on his jacket just to give some of the oomph in your veins somewhere to go.

you felt his chuckle under your fists and against your lips, like the bassline of your favorite song with the dial all the way up, rattling through the floor and into your ribs and threatening to turn you giddy. "i think that means i'm doing alright at my new job."

"you're doing wonderfully at your new job."

not much would be worth opening your eyes from such a spell, but you found that his smile made the list: crooked and fond and beautiful and somehow it was aimed at you.

"think i can clock in for another shift?" he asked lowly, playfully, sending another wave of butterflies through your system. they left quickly, replaced by a feeling of belonging, of home, of peace.

"yes," you answered simply, trying (and failing, judging by his little laugh) to keep your eagerness under control. "you should."

so he kissed you again, holding you close. sheltering you from the chill of gotham in the dead of winter. reflecting warm lights onto you and chasing shadows away. turning every beautiful, poetic thought you'd ever had about him into something literal and visible and tangible and not having a single clue.

--

so he kissed you again, basking in the affection in your eyes and letting it warm him straight to his bones. begging his mind to save the image of you bathed in orange and pink and magic, looking at him like he was even close to that kind of beautiful, tugging him towards you like there was nowhere else on the planet you'd rather he be.

and he tried to hold you as softly as you deserved, bringing a hand up to cup your jaw and tilt your head slightly and cherishing the way you immediately, confidently leaned into his touch like you trusted him to keep you upright.

it felt like someone cracked a glowstick where his heart should be.

no- that was too vivid, too harsh. this was like a candle, warm and steady and breathing and alive. this was something to look to in the dim and the dreary, something by which he could read; something to warm his hands over, something to turn to when the storms rolled through and the power failed and left him in the dark.

you were something to turn to in the dark.

he decided, then and there, pressed against your coat and your lips and your warmth, that you were getting the nicest gloves he could get his hands on.

[keketopia]

DEATH

[MHA PORTALS Series 1/16]

pairing. katsuki bakugo x gn!reader

synopsis. after an argument, bakugo sadly lost you in a tragic accident.

cw. aged up, prohero!bakugo, angst, death, bakugo is in grief, bakugo feels remorse.

a/n. i'm starting my first masterlist. in dedication to melanie martinez's new album! i'm starting a portals series with mha characters! each character will have a story based on the songs in order (including the deluxe track). this is not my idea so credit to @katimagines since they were the ones who came up with it (but with k-12) I hope you like death with katsuki bakugo, I will be making more soon. enjoy!

Sounds of beeping could be heard in the bedroom.

"Fuck…" Katsuki grumbled as he reached his hand out to turn off the alarm on his phone, clearly annoyed that his alarm disturbed his slumber.

But he can't complain, he's a pro hero, and he has to get up early and work. He sat up from his bed and stretched his arms, yawning. He then reached into his nightstand to check his phone, checking the time, and then he looked at the date…

November 8th…

As soon as he saw that, he felt a chill go down his spine. God, that date. Why did it have to exist? 

"Shit…already? This is a fucking nightmare"

He looks over to the photo frame that was also on his nightstand. It was a picture of him and you at a carnival. It was taken while you guys were on the Ferris wheel, with you smiling so innocently while he on the other hand raised his middle finger, the bright lights in the background making you two glow like a glowstick.

Man, that felt like forever ago, he wished he could go back to those days. But unfortunately, that wish would most likely never come true. You had died in an unfortunate accident, that was something that made Bakugo crack. He never was the same since. He remembers the day so vividly.

You two had gotten into an argument that day. It was late at night, and you were cleaning in the kitchen when suddenly Bakugo burst through the front door, his costume was ripped up and he was dirty. He was panting as if he ran so fast to get to your guy's home that you both share. You offered him some help but he shoved you away, claiming that he could clean up himself. You simply brushed it aside and let him do his business while you continued to clean up the kitchen.

After you got done, you made dinner for both you and Bakugo, you figured that he was done getting freshened up so you went to your shared bedroom to tell him. You find him on his desk doing some paperwork.

"Hey Kats, I made dinner. The food is on the tab-"

"Just bring it here" He suddenly said, eyes glued to the paper he was doing.

"Are you sure you don't wanna eat it with me?" You question, feeling saddened that your boyfriend doesn't want to eat together with you.

"Yes, I'm sure," He responded. You gave in and gave him his food, setting it on the desk. You watched as he grabbed his chopsticks and ate the food while still keeping his eyes on the paper. He didn't even spare a glance at you when you entered the room or when you offered him food. You ended up sitting at the dinner table alone, eating the food you made for yourself.

Something like this always happens just recently. He would prioritize his hero work over you. Not giving you enough attention or appreciation when you do something for him. You figured it was just his busyness which is probably the reason why he barely acknowledges you. I mean being the number two hero is not easy. However, it still bothered you how much he has been neglecting you, so you decided to calmly talk about it to him, that somehow escalated into a full-blown argument.

"ALL I'M ASKING IS FOR YOU TO TAKE A LITTLE BREAK AND GIVE ME SOME LOVE FOR A LITTLE WHILE"

"THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! I DO GIVE YOU SOME LOVE"

"YOU BARELY SPARED A GLANCE AT ME WHEN I GAVE YOU YOUR FOOD. I SWEAR YOU LET BEING A PRO HERO TAKE OVER YOUR LIFE SO MUCH SO THAT YOU DON'T EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR OWN PARTNER!"

"WELL, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT? I'M THE NUMBER TWO HERO, OF COURSE, IT'S GOING TO BE MY LIFE"

"BUT YOUR LIFE IS MORE THAN BEING A HERO. YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH A WONDERFUL PERSON WHO WOULD LITERALLY SCRATCH YOUR BACK FOR YOU. I DID EVERYTHING FOR YOU AND INSTEAD OF APPRECIATING ME, YOU FLAT-OUT IGNORED ME. I CLEAN YOUR WOUNDS YOU IGNORED ME, I COOK YOU FOOD YOU IGNORED ME, I CLEAN THE HOUSE YOU IGNORED ME. WHAT AM I? YOUR S/O OR YOUR SERVANT?!"

"YOU'RE MY S/O, OF COURSE, WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?"

"IF THAT'S HOW YOU SEE ME THEN HOW COME YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT?!" Tears began to well up in your eyes.

"I'M SORRY BUT I'M NOT SEEING WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS?!"

"I JUST EXPLAIN WHY I HAVE A PROBLEM! SEE, THIS IS ANOTHER THING. YOU DON'T LISTEN!"

"WELL, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!"

"PAY MORE ATTENTION TO ME, IT IS NOT THAT HARD!!"

"YOU KNOW WHAT Y/N, YOU'RE SO SELFISH! YOU KNOW DAMN WELL HOW MUCH BEING A HERO MEANS TO ME AND YOU OBVIOUSLY DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT IT"

"...Are you serious? Are you actually kidding me? You're seriously blaming me? I never thought you could stoop this low" Your voice cracks up as you finally break and started crying.

"You know Katsuki, I always saw the better in you when others didn't. I helped you with your anger issues and I helped you assist at the agency. I am heartbroken that this is what I get in return. Unappreciated and unloved"

You then grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and opened the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going for a walk to clear my head, I just want to be alone for a while" Was all you said before walking out and closing the door. Little did you know that those were going to be your last words. A minute later, the sounds of screaming struck Bakugo's ears. He rushed to the window and gave it a little peak, only to see a car parked in the middle of the road and your body in a pool of blood.

Time felt like it stop for Bakugo as he saw that you were not moving, his blood ran cold as he feared that the worst had happened. Without thinking twice, he ran out into the cold night without his jacket and rushed to your body. A woman was standing by her car, her face in pure horror as she realized what she had done.

"I'm so sorry! They came out of nowhere and I didn't have time to break!"

The woman was apologizing profusely, but Bakugo tuned her out. He was more focused on you. He held your bloody body with his two arms, he checked your pulse, he couldn't feel it…

At the hospital, the doctors confirmed it, you were dead. Bakugo almost felt like he was about to have a heart attack. He wanted to yell and scream at the doctors for lying. But he couldn't let it out, it was like the words he wanted to say were stuck in his throat. 

At the funeral, he kept convincing himself that this had to be some sort of hallucination or nightmare he was enduring, but unfortunately, he was not. He was in reality. The funeral was lit with candles and fresh flowers decorated your tombstone, the setting was beautiful for such a somber occasion. Everyone mourned your loss and said their prayers, while Bakugo stood there, wearing his best suit, clutching a fake candle in his hand, trying his hardest not to break down into tears. When it was finally over and he got into his car, he just let it out.

He let all of the emotions he'd been holding in for so long finally be shown at a dimly lit parking lot. Not only was he saddened that you were dead, but he also felt guilty. He blamed himself for getting you killed. He felt like a terrible boyfriend. This wouldn't have happened if he just didn't let his anger get the better of him. Damn, why did he have to start an argument? Why did he have to be so hard-headed? You were right, he never listens, and now thanks to him, you were gone, forever.

5 years later and Bakugo was still in deep sorrow. Every time Kirishima and the rest of the Bakusquad wanted to hang out with him, he would shut them out. How could he do anything when you weren't around anymore? His friends tried everything to comfort him, but he was inconsolable. 

Slowly getting up, he went inside the bathroom to take a quick shower. He then made himself breakfast and put on his hero suit. He then went outside to unlock his car but not before locking the door to his house, he put the keys into the ignition, turned on the car, and drove off.

He stops by the flower shop to pick some flowers for your grave. He entered the store and the first thing his eyes set on was a set of white calla lilies. You've always liked Calla lilies, especially the white ones as you believe that it was a symbol of rebirth and resurrection. In fact, you believed in a lot of shit, such as how you believed that there was life after death and reincarnation. Bakugo always called you weird for that but secretly, he found you quite interesting. As soon as he saw those flowers, he knew he had to get those for you, after all, it's the least he could do after what he's done.

He paid for the flowers and got back in his car and drove his way to the cemetery. Walking through the site, he passed by all the other tombstones of the citizens of Japan, eyes only focusing on the one tombstone that was the shape of a heart, with your name carved into it. Approaching your grave, he kneels down to his knee and places the flowers by your tombstone. Then he just sat there, in the grass, reading what was carved in it.

"Y/N…" He spoke out.

"I know I've said this a hundred times but, please forgive me for that night. I didn't mean to neglect you. It's just, work has been so hectic these days. Villains are out there doing their fucking crimes, I had a shit load of paperwork, it was all hell. But that doesn't excuse me for rarely giving you any attention, I'm sorry for making you feel like you're being unappreciated. You didn't deserve that. Please take these flowers as an apology and if you can hear me, show me a sign that you forgive me"

Just then, his phone began to ring. He checked it to see it was his secretary.

"Yes?"

"Sorry if I interrupt anything Mr. Bakugo but I must remind you that you have an interview with Mx. Yuno for the assistant position today"

Crap, he completely forgot about that.

"Alright, I'll be there in 15 minutes. Let Mx. Yuno know in case they come early"

"Gotcha! I'll see you later, Mr. Bakugo"

The call ended and Bakugo took one last look at your grave.

"I love you, Y/N"

And just like that, he went back into his car and drove away.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Bakugo sat in his office, waiting for his interviewee to arrive. They called to tell him that they would be a few minutes late due to heavy traffic and Bakugo did some work on his computer to pass some time. Just then, he heard a knock on his door. 

"Come in"

His secretary peeked her head through the door.

"Good Morning Mr. Bakugo, I am just here to let you know that Mx. Yuno is here"

"Alright, bring them in"

The secretary then left, leaving the door cracked open. Seconds later, she comes back.

"Here he is, good luck"

He heard the secretary say before closing the door, leaving Bakugo with his interviewee. Bakugo didn't even look at them as he was busy organizing the papers.

"Please excuse me for a moment, I need to keep everything in place"

"Sure, no problem"

Bakugo took a little peak at his interviewee and his eyes went wide.

They looked exactly like his late s/o, every facial structure looked the same, your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your ears, they even have your eye color. The only difference was your hair as it was a different color.

"Is everything okay?"

Bakugo snapped out of it. He must've stared at them for a little too long, but how could he not when the person he is interviewing is the exact replica of you.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, you kind of remind me of someone I know. Let's get this interview started"

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

After about an hour and 40 minutes the interview was over.

"I will need time to review your answers, you should get your results in about a week or two, thank you for coming, you have a nice day"

Yuno gets up from their seat and begins to walk to the door. Bakugo couldn't help but look at them, so much of Yuno reminded him of you, he wonders if this is just a coincidence or you just have a twin you never mentioned before.

He stops what he is doing and begins to do some paperwork he never finished until…

"Also, Mr. Bakugo…"

He looks up from his papers and sees Yuno halfway out the door.

"I forgive you…"

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •

𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉, 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕴'𝖒 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉, 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕴'𝖒 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉, 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕴'𝖒 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉, 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊- (𝕴'𝖒 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐)

[quitealotofsodapop]

Part 3 of: @justweirddino sending in funny and accurate asks.

As always I have put transcripts in the alt image descriptions.

The Gold and Silver twins probs have a massive list of enemies and vengances they want resolve, but they're so absent-minded that they frequently forget just why they dont like that person/what they did. They def find their own names among their "black book" of enemies and are just puzzled.

They haven't unlocked his friendship events yet. Gotta feed and talk to Macaque everyday like a Stardew Valley npc before he unloads his trauma.

MK is willing to use the Staff if it means conflict resolution. He will use it to threaten others to be nice.

Oh gosh, I love the idea of Huntsman having legit rizz, but it completely flies over Sandy's head. FIshman is sweet but damn he bad at responding to obvious romantic signs. X3

Wukong saw glowsticks become a thing and would spend ages trying to figure out How. Why stick glow when cracked/bended? Why no heat? Why did people scream when he tried drinking the yucky liquid inside at the discotech? He did't have his Staff handy for their introduction, so the second the Staff is no longer sealing DBK, Wukong tries cracking the Staff to see if it glows. He breaks his knee instead. Macaque laughed while MK was just puzzled Why.

The second Macaque is gone; Wukong turns into a mega-bachelor again. Hyper impulsive, binge-watching Monkey Cop, eating nothing but peaches and takeout. The second Mac gets back from the moon, its like walking into a house after a frat party. He def yells at Wukong to clean up his mess.

Nudity is canon. Wukong busted out the furnace naked cus it burned his clothes off.

DEFINETELY. Wukong is gotdang short already (apparently less than 1.3m/4.26 ft in the book), and Macaque being just a little taller would get so on his nerves! XD Even if both monkeys (unglamoured) reach about the height of a teenager, Wukong is def wearing lifted shoes. Macaque taunts him about it endlessly.

Oh gosh, I have an idea for TMKATI-au in Chapter 3; where Pigsy and Tang are "whisper-arguing" in the kitchen while Shadowpeach are in the restaurant sheltering from the rain.

Pigsy: "I'm not about to harbor a pair of shady demons just cus they look pathetic in the rain!" Tang, the one who brought them there: "Aww, c'mon Piggy!" *whispers* "They're having a kid and it looks like they got kicked out or something..." Pigsy: *annoyed snort* Macaque, hearing the convo cus ears: "...Wukong do you honestly believe this place is safe?" Wukong: "Uh yeah - I order from here all the time!" Macaque: *judgemental glare* Wukong, laughes nervously: "Haha...Ok. I'm not 100% sure. Honestly I was thinking about how we're gonna get some food... You're in a... vunerable condition and I want to make sure we're at atleast fed and warm before deciding anything major. You know... future-wise." Macaque: *sighs tiredly* Pigsy & Tang, eavesdropping via kitchen counter: *looks at one another* Tang: *gives puppy-dog eyes* Pigsy, conflicted growling: "Grr... OK FINE! They can stay for some dinner and maybe crash on the futon for a bit. But once the rain clears off, I'm kicking them out!"

(Pigsy procedes to not kick them out, and instead over the course of the late-evening meal decides to hire Wukong/let the two monkeys stay in the empty top floor of the building. He's bad at saying no to Tang and bad at turning away sad-looking rain-soaked monkeys.)

I always love these ask-ins, even if I ramble a little off-topic with the ideas they gave me! As always ty @justweirddino !

I put the slightly rauchier ones under read more.

This one is 100% a line Tang has said aloud and in front of polite company without batting an eye. He has no shame.

Macaque and Wukong too. Gotta make sure anyone within striking distance knows that you're both taken. By eachother. Macaque says it to tease, Wukong says it as a warning.

And finally, an ask @justweirddino actually messaged me about ahead of time due to it being about a rather... spicy topic revovling around the immortal monkeys not understanding modern slang terms. Had to put it in two screenshot to fit.

XD

Nezha has most modern slang downloaded into his brain by the time he gets to earth. Not to use, but to decipher.

Wukong is def the person to remember a random detail from a movie trailer from years ago and take what the trailer says at face value. Also the thought of him randomly declaring that a movie mom is a MILF, serious-faced as the others look at him like he grew three heads (again), is sending me XD

[spiritshaydra]

Please do tell us about your garbage OCs!!! We'd all be happy to hear!!! :)

AYOOOOO OKAY!! Here’s a goblin I made when I was either 12 or 13 <3

This is Glowstick. He’s a part of a Catin cadet squad that’s training to be a part of the Nocturne Elite- it’s kinda like a special version of the army that usually takes on the jobs nobody else wants.

Unfortunately this group in particular kinda sucks.

From what everyone understands, “Glowstick” is a nickname and nobody but the leader of their ragtag group of misfits knows what his actual name is- Sergeant Travis (their grouchy glorified babysitter) just calls him by his last name, Cyrinsky, like everyone else on the team. (Aster, Frost, Nightingale, etc.)

To say he’s a little shit would be the understatement of the century.

He has a very peppy and excitable deposition if not a little bit unhinged, (typing out “yay!” With like seven exclamation points followed by a “:D”) but is startlingly good at digging up blackmail on nearly everyone and is unsettlingly quiet and sneaky when he wants to be. Can figure out how to get into someone’s walls in a couple seconds. Has arsonist tendencies if left unchecked. He’s definitely the type to dox someone on Roblox.

He loves all manner of glow in the dark stuff (clearly), pigeons, video games, and extremely loud thumping techno music. He almost always is wearing a band tee with the sleeves ripped off. His favorite food are snakes… with his species naturally having a resistance or immunity to most venomous snake species from the deserts they hail from. Other abilities include being able to produce focused electric charges and forming holograms and other illusion based tricks.

Being from the desert, he despises freezing temperatures and is the most likely person on his team to be bundled up in multiple layers.

The code breaking tendencies he has is the entire reason he’s on the team in the first place. He plays a more supportive role on missions, by cracking into computers, disrupting signals, and all around being a menace to anyone in the unfortunate possession of having technological devices. His weaponry consists of two mid to long range EMP blasters he dubbed his “Echobusters” which he’ll fire while cackling madly. His entire shtick is to be infuriating. He’s also like two feet tall.

He also has like four siblings (one younger, three older) and a scary mom who looks like she eats glass. He loves his family very much <3

[we-were-so-beautiful]

3. taxi

oh man, this one FOUGHT me y'all. so much cutting and pasting. I am not even kidding when I say that everything that happens in this chapter was supposed to be part of the last one, and I gave up and cut that one off early because I was sick of trying to finish this part. and now this is my longest chapter yet. you know, out of all three of them. at 1.3k. lol. I am not, how do you say, fast. but I was hoping I'd be able to get a chapter written over christmas, and I'm really proud of myself for finishing it!

Content warnings for this chapter: box boy universe, pet whump, dehumanization, cage mention, rampant classism. As always, please tell me if there's anything else I need to tag.

[masterlist] [chapter two] [chapter four]

“Okay I know they’re supposed to be expensive but what can you possibly be charging this much money for.”

“Adoption fees are to offset the cost of room, board and medical care while at the facility,” the employee parrots, without so much as the decency to look ashamed. 

“He does not look like he has had literally any of those things while he’s been here. Or possibly in his entire life.”

“Ma’am, if you cannot afford the adoption fee, then you cannot adopt a Pet.”

“Oh, I can afford it,” Vanessa growls, handing over a very shiny credit card before her mouth can get her in enough trouble to stop the employee from taking it. She bites her lip until she tastes copper to keep from saying, I’d just rather put it towards something that isn’t blatantly and obviously going right back into Worldwide Rehabilitative Un-fucking-limited’s pockets despite the fact that this is supposed to be a goddamn government facility.

Harm reduction, she reminds herself. Paying extortionate fees to kill shelters is still harm reduction. It’s the unsavory truth, but it doesn’t make the blood in her mouth taste any sweeter.

“Sign here,” the woman says, handing her credit card back along with a digital pad and stylus, and Vanessa cracks her wrist before she takes them. It’s sore and snapping like a glowstick from the mountain of paperwork she’s already been made to sign since the employee unceremoniously hauled the man on the floor behind her down from his double-high-stacked wire crate. She can’t decide whether to consider it an obscenely large amount, or an obscenely little one for all that it represents.

She can’t think about it too hard. Can’t draw too much of her own attention to the fact that she’s really doing this, or she might just run screaming back out into the grey-tinted autumn afternoon, and then where would this guy be? 

She scribbles her name on the touchpad, and just like that… it’s done.

—

“Don’t forget your leash and collar,” the employee reminds her.

“I won’t be using those,” Vanessa says, with all the imperious rich-lady self-assurance she can fake.

“You will if you don’t want to be liable for civil and/or criminal penalties up to and including the permanent forfeiture of your right to Pet ownership,” the woman drones like she’s rattling it off from a handbook, and nobody has the right to own a person but even Vanessa knows better than to argue the system with someone who literally works for it.

She grinds her teeth as she takes the lengths of bulky blue nylon from the woman. She crouches beside the man, who’s bent himself into an odd kneeling fetal position on the cold tile floor. “Sorry,” she whispers as she slides the coarse material around his throat, feeling his pulse beat harsh and rapid underneath. She hopes she’s being quiet enough that the employee won’t hear her talking to him like a person—because he is a person, goddamnit—but she knows better than to trust her own volume. Best if she can get the fuck out of here with him now, before she makes a mistake.

She really doesn’t want to lead this dude crawling down the street like an animal. Doesn’t want to imagine what people will think. But she asks him, “Can you stand?”, and he makes a sound like a choking dog, and so much for both their dignity, she fucking guesses.

“Ugh, fine, whatever, just… come on.”

—

Fuck standing, the guy can barely support himself on all fours. His joints threaten to buckle at every step as Vanessa urges him out onto the chilly sidewalk. Coat of dirt aside, he’s got nothing on him but a pair of boxers as filthy as he is and that godawful blue collar, and when his bare skin meets the frigid pavement his body clenches so hard she can practically hear his teeth slam shut.

She looks at the unwashed man before her, shivering hard enough to rattle his bones in the cold October air. Looks at her thick brown coat. Ugh, she likes this coat, the lining is stitched in in all the right places to keep the texture of the shell from making her want to climb out of her own skin and no amount of dry cleaning in the world is going to convince her to put it on again once it touches… whatever the fuck is all goddamn over this guy. She sighs and shrugs it off.

Fuck fuck fuck it’s cold. She’s shivering herself in just plain blue jeans and her second favorite Cure t-shirt. But a million “if you’re cold, they’re cold!” memes flash through her mind and she grumbles aggrievedly and drapes the wool coat over his massive, gaunt frame. This dude has like a foot on her standing, she remembers when the lapels will barely pull around his shoulders. She’s gonna have to shake Austin down for clothes.

God, it feels beyond fucked up to have a person on a leash, and it doesn’t help that the cheap blue nylon feels plasticky in her hand and she hates the texture. She can’t imagine how much worse it must feel around the throat of the shuddering man before her. She’s taking the damn thing off him as soon as she gets him home, she’ll get him a better one if Roselle can’t find her a loophole and she absolutely fucking has to, but when the fifth or sixth cab passes her by without even slowing down she starts to wonder how the hell she’s going to get him home at all.

—

“You want to go to the corner,” the employee says boredly, not so much as looking up from her newspaper when Vanessa shoulders her way back through the door.

“You what?” Vanessa echoes.

“The corner. Better if you go another block or two, even. Cabs don’t stop in front of the shelter.”

Of course they don’t, Vanessa thinks. 

She hipchecks the door back open and returns to the stupid goddamn hitching post they so conveniently provide along the front wall of the shelter, where she’s awkwardly strung up the loop of the stupid blue leash. “Hey, uh, dude? I’m gonna go up the street a bit, okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

He barely acknowledges that he’s heard her, curled back up under her coat in that same odd position with his forearms tucked into his chest. “...not that you would,” she adds dubiously, before power-walking away to the next block.

Vanessa hisses through her teeth in the bleak grey air and rubs at her goosebump-riddled arms, but true to the employee’s disaffected word it’s only a matter of minutes this time before a cab driver catches her wave and pulls over. “Thanks,” she says as she tumbles in. “I’m going back to the Heights. Need to pick someone up first, though. Just on the next block.”

The driver looks skeptical, but he rolls down the quiet street all the same—until he clocks the shelter just as Vanessa tells him to stop. “No. Nuh uh. No way. I don’t let Pets in my cab.”

“I’ll double your fare. Up front.”

The driver shakes his head, staring revulsed in the direction of the hitching post. “Not worth all that crud on my seats.” Oh. Great. He’s seen him.

“What if I cover the seats. Newspaper.”

The driver sizes her up with a calculating gaze, one elbow propped on the back of his seat, and somewhere in the middle of wanting to punch him for looking at her she finds herself wishing for once that she’d dressed… richer. Finally, he grouses, “Triple fare. And the meter’s runnin’ while ya cover ‘em.”

“Fine,” Vanessa spits, and sprints out with the door wide open before he has time to change his mind.

She barges into the shelter one last time, hopefully the last fucking time in her life if she has any say in it. Leaning over the counter, with a grin that’s probably a little too smug for her to be proud of, she snatches the newspaper directly out of the apathetic employee’s complicit hands.

-

taglist: @maracujatangerine @pigeonwhumps @tragedyinblue @marchtothefuckingsea @octopus-reactivated @briars7

[prisms-writing]

Ficmas Day Five - Tradition

Word Count: 763

AU: Crystalweave

Characters: Micah [OC], Ethan [OC]

Micah couldn't help but smirk as she leaned back on the couch, cracking her knuckles as she glanced over to Ethan. "So," she said as she picked up her controller off the coffee table, pointing it towards her brother. "Ready to get your ass handed to you finally?"

"Me? Get my ass handed to me? Did you forget who you're up against?" He asked with a laugh, raising a brow, a smile plastered on his face as he picked up his controller, spinning it around on a finger by the safety strap as he watched Micah bring up the game.

"Hey, I reckon I can get you this time. I got close last time before you stole my damn start, still pisses me off that those two you took stole me the win."

"Come on Glowstick, you're acting like it's the end of the world or something."

God that stupid ass nickname again, it always got under her skin, making her want to throw the controller at him so badly, but he had a head she swore was made of a rock, so even if she did, it would probably break it the plastic shell on the controller.

She should have honestly gotten used to his smack talk by now, even the lesser stuff like this. But there was something about the smugness in his tone that always got under her skin, that always made her want to rechallenge him to this stupid game she could never beat him at.

And then she heard it, the music that she swore made her eye twitch every time it played. The Mario Party Jamboree opening theme. The one game her brother was somehow too good at for his own good and it pissed her off beyond belief.

Sure Ethan was good at other things, but this? This was a whole other crazy level.

She didn't even know why she tried to beat him at it, but like clockwork, she found herself on the couch of his apartment playing. Stuck looking at Waluigi for upwards of four hours depending on the board, and whether Ethan or she had invited over any friends.

And while she could handle losing to real people, cause at least then she got to talk while playing, losing to the CPUs she often had to face when it was just her and Ethan was a whole other level of pain to her ego. Sure she'd play it off and say it kept her humble, but damn did she hate it deep down.

One of these days though she was going to beat him.

Only today still wasn't that day.

"How the ever-loving hell do you keep doing that you bastard?" She yelled, her voice barely being heard over Ethan's laughing as he held his hands up in front of his face as Micah tried to deal hit after hit to him via the use of a couch pillow that had been nearby.

"I don't know ok? Maybe instead of getting mad each time, you actually learn how to play the game? We do this so often, how do you still not know the tactics?." He continued to laugh as he finally got hold of the couch cushion and pulled it from Micah's hands in one quick motion.

Shit, she thought to herself as the realisation of what had just happened dawned on her.

Taking a step back, she slowly turned on her heels as Ethan started to get up, only for her to bolt before he was standing.

Only before she could even reach the hall, she felt the cushion hit the back of her head, causing her to stumble into the wall a little. However, she quickly recovered, making sure to grab the cushion off the ground before starting her counterattack.

"Ready to get your ass handed to you?" She taunted as she stepped back over to the couch, her and Ethan circling around it, both of them barely able to hold back their laughter.

"Think you can finally beat me?" He asked, that stupid smug look back on his face once again.

"I've got to beat you at something, don't I? And if it can't be that stupid game, it might as well be this." She laughed as she threw the cushion, hitting Ethan square in the face as she jumped over the couch, pushing Ethan onto it as she grabbed a second cushion, the two each landing hits and blocking others. Each of them refusing to surrender to the other, even with their laughter making it hard to breathe.

[pupstim]

Someone told him he didn’t have a spine...

Dannymay Day 10: Bones

I honestly didn’t know what to do with bones but then I remembered an idea of Danny cracking his bones like glowsticks and I had to draw it.

I figured this could be AU too like maybe Danny is so ecto contaminated that his own bones can be considered ecto weapons like clubs. Just a silly thought. I wanted something with Danny beating the crap out of Vlad as well but figured that would be too much.

Very happy with how this came out and I figured out glowing! Look at his spine it glows! His hands too! WOW! I forgot his eyebrows in two of the panels but shhh just pretend they’re there ;)

[the-kr8tor]

Haha I don't need glasses >:) The advantages of being youthful...just kidding I didn't get any advantages my knees crack like glowsticks Daily Hobie HC! I really like the idea of the first few times that Hobie comes over, Teacup, Crumpet and Crowley just interrupts everything. Around Hobie's second time of coming over to your place, all of the cats were taking a long nap shockingly, which Hobie immediately took advantage of. He grabbed you from behind, immediately swinging your legs up to carry you bridal style into the bedroom. Never mind whatever you were fixing in the kitchen, you could always come back to it. He stood over your bed, before letting you drop on it, chuckling along at your giggles when you bounced up slightly. Hobie clambered on top of you, pinning you down underneath him with a wide smirk. Upon seeing your flustered face, Hobie leaned down, his hands cupping your face as he peppered kisses all over, initiating laughter from you as you tried to push him away. Hobie wasn't feeling merciful, continuing to kiss the entirety of your face, not missing a simple bit. As he went to press his lips against yours, a loud meow could be heard from the side. He paused with an overdramatic sigh, playfully pouting about the fact his plans had been disrupted again. In reality, he didn't mind. After all, if he truly wanted you alone, he knew many ways to do so. Looking to the side, Teacup innocently blinks at the two of you, like a child that had no idea what it disrupted. Hobie reaches over, scratching her cheek. He lays beside you as you finished getting your breath back, watching as Teacup practically falls into Hobie's hand the moment his fingers scratched her cheek. She loudly purrs against his hand, meanwhile you've been forgotten in the middle of the two. You wrap your arms around Hobie's middle, pulling him closer and burying your face into his chest, as if showing the oblivious cat who's your man. Hobie laughs at the predicament, one arm sliding over to you to rub your back, kissing the crown of your head lovingly as Teacup purrs happily on your back, relishing in Hobie's attention. -🐦‍⬛

NOOO SO MEAN TO ME :( BAHAHAHAHHA my back is the same 😂

Daily Hobie HC!!!

AHHHHH THE CATS!! OH HOW I MISSED THEM DEARLY ❤️❤️❤️

Hobie dropping r on the bed 🥴😳😳😳😳 R is so nonchalant I'd be a mess HAHHAHAHA

TEACUP!! She's secretly Hobie's favourite (she is also the most spoiled of the bunch)

Crowley wakes up from the noise and Hobie's spider senses kick in 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[murderspice]

📓 !!

Put "📓" or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about

[cracks knuckles and opens the wip folder] So, there's one for Dragon Age that I ended up writing a teaser for, slapped out a meager handful of words for the first chapter and then just imagined the rest REALLY hard sdfkjlfsdkjl

"Without explanation, Elves across Thedas have found themselves filled with the innate magical abilities of their ancestors. There’s a warrior elf in Tevinter who is more than displeased with this development. 

There is only one mage he can think of that could help him control it and wouldn’t turn him away. The only issue is that nobody knows where Anders went after Kirkwall."

SO BASICALLY Fenris goes hunting for Anders (who was spared by this world state's Hawke) post-inquisition, and finds a freaking hermit hut. With a blond little hermit in it. Who is frankly disappointed that his new scraggly facial hair didn't fool Fenris at all. Based loosely on that one concept art from DAI that we all hated combined with that one lovely comic by fenhedislasa-harellan that we all loved JKFDLF.

SO. Fenris has magic. He does not like that he has magic. Sniffs out Anders. Anders is living off the grid and growing herbs in the woods. He gossips to birds like they're people and has a terrible beard.

They would then work together to figure out how Fenris ended up with new magic while also teaching him how to control it, and perhaps even use it to his advantage in combat (which would take a lot of debate and self compassion, not particularly in that order JKFDJKL). Stories of their pasts are shared. New perspectives are gained. Friendship is formed. Solas is bald and slippery as ever. Just another instance of me wanting to mush my favorite two glowstick boys together to work out their differences (and maybe even kiss a little? who can say, truly KDFJJKLDFJKL).

[apoptoses]

It’s the ghost of Dungeon Anon here, reporting from the afterlife 🥹 turns out my demise came sooner than expected in the form of your D/L/A story I had NO WAY of knowing would drop!!! I was beside myself with excitement when I saw your post but also terrified because I knew it would mean the end for me lmao. Needless to say it was incredible from start to finish, Armand being in total control of those two little blonde bitches like he was BORN to be, them not daring to move an inch unless explicitly told, wanting more than anything to be putty in his hands, to be anything he wished for them to be. But ALSO the infinite tenderness at the end, all those little kisses. Just perfect. Planning my rebirth as we speak so I can die again when you drop the next one tysm🤞

Dungeon anon ♥

Ha, I had no idea it would be finished that fast and immediately posted! I was really on some shit while the power was out and by the time I was done I knew I had to post it right away or I would lose my nerve, it felt like a risky fic lol

'those two little blonde bitches' I really hope this is a reference to Paris and Nicole in the simple life because I think about that in relation to Armand all the time. Like-

Is this not literally Armand's dating history?

But yes! If anyone can have two grown men running in circles for him it's Armand, especially when one of them is Lestat who's so proud, and has such a reputation built up around him. Armand cracking him like a glowstick and bending him to his will is my favorite thing (and what a thing for Daniel to see, his idol turning tricks like a trained sea lion for Armand). They're just his little toys and I loved letting him play with them.

And it's funny because I didn't plan for it be anything but porn without plot but I like a role reversal, I wanted Daniel to start as the target but end as the one who really dealt the final blow and him getting Armand to get over his baggage and cross the line of intimacy with Lestat was just too fun to resist. He's a good boyfriend, and a good bro.

And now I really want to do more with them. Like Daniel and Lestat sandwiching Armand between them and showing him the good and loving time he deserves. Or just like, Daniel and Lestat hanging out and Armand being like 'oh god what have I done by bringing these two together'. Because Lestat needs a friend that he has zero baggage with and who just sees him as some guy, which Daniel would now that he's gotten past his idol worship and fucked him lol

Anyways thank you!! I am so glad I could melt your brain yet again ♥

[bittcrblue]

a break from our usual scheduled posting

(she says, as if she posts regularly or on a schedule)

i wanted to post some tavs!!!

here we have mafalda tav who is a tiefling wizard and is in love with shadowheart <3 girlie we have GOT to cult deprogram you it's actually dire <3 - direct quote, act 2.

mafalda (yes named after communist comic strip icon) is an icy gorl she uses ice magic only (fuck a fireball. cast ice storm. get knocked prone, idiot) and is very "defrosting ice-queen" so her relationship is just two goofy idiots pretending to be aloof and mysterious. they're hysterical and i love them. she sees a lot of herself in rolan and she still let him die because she couldn't stand his attitude, mostly because she can't stand herself, and she's not embarassed by that decision at all. sometimes she is a little shady, tbh.

she lost her eye for the bantz lol and frankly i find the tradeoff to be VERY satisfying. invisibility whomst? not on my watch!! she loves the tiefling children SO SO much.

this is tav (just tav) who is a half-elf warlock indentured to the fey! he only ever calls his patron "my lady fair" "my fairest lady" and "my rose-speckled mistress" but he does serve titania, queen of the summer court.

he is romancing astarion because he thought the seduction attempt was funny, but he originally had his eyes set on wyll. however he decided to remain friends after wyll said he wanted a love story for the bards, because tav has been there, done that, and he doesn't need a repeat!!! to wit: he has an ex-wife in baldur's gate who is an 87 year old salonnière and a lesbian daughter and some adopted grandkids by her who all only barely care about him, and he prefers it that way.

he met his wife in the feywild when she was performing for the queen (got lost in a fairy circle) and they adventured together before she retired to raise their kid. she has since had four other husbands and is the most badass person in the world, and he'll never love anyone like he loves her, he thinks, but also god is he waiting for her to die already.

this is a picture from a previous run but this is marceline laimant, my dark urge, she is a middle aged arab mom and she hates all of her companions <3 she is based on an actual dnd character of mine, her son, armand; marceline was the leader of a bhaalite cult of murderous serial killers who was the villain in armand (her son, paladin of redemption)'s character arc, and i originally made armand to be my durge.

(see:

armand laimant)

however i thought playing durge and resisting constantly and having to jump through hoops to keep my oath was annoying, so i reloaded as marceline, and it's been murder and mayhem ever since, baby!

we are out here making everyone into the worst version of themselves possible and it's a grand old time. i will maybe romance minthara, we'll see.

this is sister tav and she is large <3 she is a paladin here but i since respecced her into a fighter bc i am tired of spellcasting <3 but her backstory is that she is a paladin of sune, goddess of love and beauty, and she is just a big handsome butch knight.

she originally started worshipping sune because as a child in her village she saw a team of women builders come repair a broken bridge and would watch them work every day and was enraptured by how beautiful they all were <3

i have not decided yet if she will romance shadowheart (i cannot resist a goth woman it's true), karlach or laezel yet, but she is a lesbian and she is big and she is kindhearted. the women in this game are too beautiful and powerful and intense and well-written and i'm in love with them all please i want to romance them all at once. larian, i'm begging you,

she gives good massages. she is going to crack shadowheart's back like a glowstick and knock the sharran discipline right out of her. that's a promise.

i am already sighing at the notion of having to reject gale. gale, please get a hold of yourself already. you're too old for this.

speaking of gale, this is antonin tav and he is an oath of ancients paladin who kind of grew up in a cult also? but a good one! (lol) he is a half-orc and he was going to be killed by his orc dad as a child for being sickly and tiny but his older brother stole him and ran away. they grew up in the woods with some druids and rangers and kind of founded this community with his older brother at the centre of it as the kindly forest guru. he did NOT take kindly to kagha!

he is still at the grove but he is going to rock gale's world believe you me

[honeyblockm]

Part 4 might have some of my favorite poems I'm quite fond of the stuff here :) here is some commentary about these poems

Cw discussion of suicide (in fundy's part), maggots in the eggpire part, and self harm (for entertainment purposes) in quackity's part. Also death but like. *Gestures at the title of the megapoem.*

• Ranboo's poem is definitely one of my favorite poems I've written for this project :D although as always with ranboo I don't know what to do with his whole .. thing until I'm backed into a corner. So this was one of the last or probably the last poem to be written. Ended up drafting a lot of it in my head during fencing practice? the pov switches from cranboo to cghostboo in this line:

the water for. Some things pull this sheet tight over my head, over the open viscera.

And then it's just ghostboo hanging out in an empty snowchester! I'm especially proud of the imagery of ghostboo watching snow pile up and being unable to brush it off, giving the appearance of nobody occupying the space even though, as he says, he's "still here." I also like this line. It just sounds nice:

Have I not always / been every piece of me emerging from the bisected half, impossible / to look in the eye?

My little vwoop vwoop is multifaceted. Crack him open like a glowstick and watch a ghostboo come out. The last three sentences are directed mostly at Tubbo I think. At least in my head they are.

• the "you" in Sam's poem is Dream. Their dynamic is saur fucked up. Shout out to the time Sam got trapped in the egg and ate his arm!:

not for this growing lack inside my gut staved off by the disappearing muscle of my forearms and how no one is coming for me but him.

I think I was a little delirious in writing this poem bc it spawned the Pandoras box murder baby matriphagy joke. Uh. This thing. The places metaphors will lead you.

Anyways isn't it crazy how cdream broke out of the prison and went hmmm I'll go back and make that my base

in the black belly of our collective wanting both of us have come back home for no one else has ever thought to live here and no one else has learned to count the ticking towards nothing. but for you.

"I know only absolutes". He sure does!

• at some point in writing this project I had no idea what the fuck to do and it was driving me up the walls so I read some poems in the Kenyon review and then went on a walk and wrote two poems on said walk and the Tubbo and Aimsey one was one of them, the other was the skephalo piece from I think part 3. This poem is also my attempt at synthesizing that particular piece of lore. Isn't it crazy how the people Aimsey and Tubbo love are dead lol. I tried playing with the idea of creating a hospitable and safe space 4 the people that you love, and how Tubbo has been on the server long enough to have each one wrecked to the point where this line exists:

it's never safe enough

• fundy's poem is addressed to Wilbur! Something something killing yourself temporarily and thinking about the time your dad did that for real, right in front of you. Something about how you ask your parents everything about the world as a kid and they do not always have the best answers, esp when the question is "why did you blow up our home and kill yourself"

One of life's many questions that / I never stop asking

Hmm. Jumping in the lmancrater is, in fact, the fastest way to get out of a conversation with your dad!

In terms of going, this we know it to / be faster than walking;

This is where the narration slips into the memory of nov 16, where the situation is flipped, where Fundy is the one looking up and watching:

or letting your feet carry / you down the treacherous steps from a stiff ledge to / who is waiting at the bottom / craning their neck against / the day’s unflinching

• Connors death was so unexpected, so quick, and it was played off relatively lightly without much fanfare. There and gone and I tried to give his poem the same effect

• this was one of the earliest poems I wrote for this project! I bet I could even find the date bc I showed quackblr discord.

And yes I did end up counting it doubly for purpled. I'm sorry purpled I'll write you a better poem sometime

I like using semicolons. Semicolons in poetry my beloved. This might have been shortly after I wrote good art which is an original poem of mine that heavily uses semicolons, thus putting me in the mood. I am quite fond of this one also. I think flight is only metaphor for falling is the first line i thought of.

Quackity is kill your past selfing it up, trying to become sturdier iterations of himself. Meaner iterations.

if you could remake yourself a better man; what / would you do?

How much heart is a reference to a pro wrestling article about blading, aka the practice of purposefully cutting yourself on the forehead to appear bloodier and make your matches seem more violent to the audience:

how much heart / makes me a target; how much more makes me / good again

It's also like. How much can he afford care about something, and how it culminates in quackity putting everything into las Nevadas. Ough. Sorry my cquackity demons. every attempt to kill his past self has still ended up in disaster for quackity, though. Such are the cycles of violence or smth. The most use he got out of that skyscraper was when he and purpled died falling from it.

• FORM POEM FORM POEM FORM POEM. Is that the term for it. Idk. It's in a circle bc the uhhh. Twisted fucking cycles n stuff. For the egg there's no end and no beginning and no getting out. It's a labyrinth with no exit:

and if you thought you could / stick your hand to the / wall and follow it out

I had a lot of fun with the eggpire poems bc I got to go yippee! Time to describe the visceral! Other things with no end: maggots, which is life appearing after an animal dies. Maggots and other worms in general, which look about the same on either end:

maggots pouring from / the carcass like pearl strings / no distinction made on either flank

Poem ends on another cycle. This time the egg comes before the chicken bc it was the egg in its embryonic state that caused all these. Eggpire shenanigans

the end of all things is the embryo

• okay these last two poems from the server finale are short and vague bc they're from the server finale streams, which I did not watch and did not look up the details of, because I think they were stupid and did not believe they were a good use of my time. So instead I worked with the vague outlines of the stream that I had learned from hearing my dash and my friends talk about it. These were written relatively early on bc I had some ideas and wanted to get them out of the way lol

In spite of everything I quite like the Tubbo kills Dream poem. The narrator is Tubbo, who is addressing and referring to Tommy.

I will not lose you too.

#Clingyduo sweep

The first line of Jack sets off a nuke is a reference to the mountain goats song "the coroner's gambit"! Last line is a bible reference. Why not. I am a lot more excited about the TMG reference than the Genesis one.

The Death Poem, Part Four: Legacy

Masterpost | Part One: L'Manberg | Part Two: New L'Manberg | Part Three: Empowerment

Text:

11/28/2021: Ranboo is cut down escaping

Some things I love. Some things I love more 

than that. Some things keep me sitting in this cell. Some things 

I stay on my solitary perch rising out of 

the water for.  Some things pull this sheet tight over my head, over the open viscera.

Some things shred the muslin. 

Some things leave ghosts. Some things leave me 

waiting out here. Some things watch the snow 

knit its heavy blankets over all of the roofs and windowsills and 

the rims of the flowerpots of frozen soil and still my hands 

slip through like vapor when I try to brush it off. I am still here. Have I not always

been every piece of me emerging from the bisected half, impossible

to look in the eye? There are still things left inside, bundled in cloth,

for you to take home. There are still things worth

mourning. I am still half a husband yet.

2/4/2022: Awesamdude dies in Pandora’s Vault

I am exceptional at waiting. down under this ticking absence of clocks and water gone still I sit and stare and count the cracks of obsidian shedding its dim tears not for me and not for this growing lack inside my gut staved off by the disappearing muscle of my forearms and how no one is coming for me but him. ambivalent to which one of us looks at the other afraid and angry because in the black belly of our collective wanting both of us have come back home for no one else has ever thought to live here and no one else has learned to count the ticking towards nothing. but for you. nothing is ever too good to be true except for everything as I know only absolutes and the ultimate one is if either of us thought we’d let the other would walk out of here or die then I may as well have built you a cobblestone box instead.

3/20/2022: Tubbo punches Aimsey off the Prime Path

ALL THE DEAD PEOPLE THAT YOU LOVED ARE SHOWING THEIR AWFUL FACES TODAY

their mouths are forming consonant and vowels forgetting they are vacuums 

and they are asking if it's safe enough yet 

it's never safe enough 

for both our sakes 

I hope it never will be 

5/22/2022: Fundy jumps into the L’Mancrater

It was effortless.

Did I expect that? The fluid grace of my exit, 

the speed, simple execution

of it all? I used to wonder and still

do but now that I’ve tasted air I think

I know the ease by which you 

left. One of life's many questions that

I never stop asking and now you

are finally answering.

In terms of going, this we know it to

be faster than walking; faster than rowboats 

or waiting or letting your feet carry 

you down the treacherous steps from a stiff ledge to 

who is waiting at the bottom

craning their neck against 

the day’s unflinching

8/10/2022: Connor seeks out the wrath of God

Death is the late morning; 

a languid prank. I blinked, and 

I was there. Not much to it. 

Nothing killed me, only God 

waving a hand; a break 

in the lazy breeze. 

Through the window, 

light bent. Voices, lamb cries, 

but it no longer mattered 

to me. 

9/10/2022: Quackity and Purpled take a dive off the top floor

like everything here flight is only metaphor 

for falling; these futile wings, this blooming sky;

if you could remake yourself a better man; what

would you do?; Most people make themselves kind but

that I was; before; my plans lay thus; First I grew pointed teeth, then; 

harder eyes; Failing those I built a city; measuring; how much heart

makes me a target; how much more makes me

good again; which here we can also call untouchable or

maybe; safe; once again I am wrong; I sport canines only 

to be torn out; citizens only to die; skyscrapers only for pushing

off.

10/29/2022: The Egg hosts a party

[Originally the lines are spaced to form half an ellipse, a shape you cannot do on Tumblr given the constraints of the post.]

Here again because life 

is a circle, 

after all and

there is no perfection 

without reconciliation 

and if you thought you could 

stick your hand to the 

wall and follow it out 

well 

it doesn't get much better than this

I am retribution, hunger, 

lovely misery on a dinner plate 

maggots pouring from 

the carcass like pearl strings 

no distinction made on either flank

the end of all things is the embryo 

the beginning the bird 

between them is the egg hatching 

11/11/2022: Tubbo kills Dream

Everything between our first meeting

to now:

I have lost even the snow on my fence posts

I will not lose you too. 

11/13/2022: Jack sets off a nuke

death came calling

today

it carried with it baskets, wicker

its soft feet spilled sand down the dunes

its eyes sparkled like two suns

and there was light