#nothing says i love you like a plastic belt and a fake flower

[lys-lilac]

The Realization of Importance

Part (3/3)

Let’s end it. 

A/N:  This is to say that all the characters and the main story line belong to Voltage Inc. Only the fictional story is a work of mine, as well the fictional characters, Hana, Touma and Akari. Also this story is based on dream event, because I had this as a dream many days ago. It might be a little different from the usual genre, a little more angsty, so this little girl wants to know your honest opinions about the work. Be honest and do let me know what you think. But, if it feels a little bit dreamy or weird, you can discontinue reading from here.

Part 1 II Part 2

                                                      Part 3/3

Hana: ?!

Standing behind me was none other the man I loved the most, Kasumi. But, why is he here? His face is looking as cool as a cucumber. And, is he smiling? I hurriedly get up from my seat.

Hana: Kas- Err, I mean Chief Kasumi! What are you doing here?

Kasumi: Listening to your conversation.

Hana: ...I- Well, I am not MC. 

Turning my head where I put the hairpin to his side, I show him my ‘recognition symbol’ or whatever.

Hana: I am Hana, the new resident.

Kasumi: I know that. 

Hana: ?

Why? Just as I am trying to focus on my work, why does he drop such lines? What work has he with me? I rack my brains for a possibility. 

Hana: Oh, are you here to talk with Touma?

Tucking on my white coat and holding me like a scared child, Touma slowly ducks his head to the side. I knew that Kasumi loved children, like he played pictionary with Sora that time. So I decide to give it a try.

Hana: Touma, he is the head of EICU, Dr. Kasumi. You can talk to him. He really is good person. Oh yeah, we might play pictionary together!

Kasumi: ...

Probably not expecting the response, Kasumi’s eyes go wide. Did I say something wrong? Wait, don’t say me... This event has already happened here already. If that’s the case, I might be in knee deep water right now.

Hana: I thought that Touma might like to draw, since he is good at gardening and sightseeing, so I asked. That’s it. 

Kasumi: Touma, I know you can do it. And as she said, we can play pictionary anytime you want. But, I have a request to make.

Touma: What is it?

Kasumi: Can I accompany you to the visit to your garden?

Hana: What?!

Okay. I seriously need to check my mental health now. Am I really in my senses? What in the world did I hear just now?

Hana: But, we shouldn’t trouble you. After all, your schedules might be packed. And what about Dr. MC?

Kasumi: She has a lot of study to do. Besides, I want to see how this resident handles the case.

So it was just as a mentor... I see. Although I would have felt pangs in my heart at this time, I feel relieved, although I don’t know why.

Touma: I would be happy to! 

After finishing our drinks, I drop Touma to his bed, and go towards the CSD (Cardiovascular Surgery Department). But, Dr. Kasumi is following me. I was sure that was not the case at first, as both CSD and EICU were in the same direction. But, instead of turning to the opposite side in the fork, he turns in my direction. WHAT IS GOING ON?! Oh god, stop, my heart...

Hana: Dr. Kasumi, I need to ask something. Do you have any work at the CSD? I can help you out with the menial tasks, if you ask.

Kasumi: ...

The silent intimidation! His dark prince cape never slides from him!

Kasumi: I need you to meet me in the outside in the evening. I have something to discuss with you.

...aand, there he goes, not listening to me. And, why the heck is he calling me to join him in the evening? The more I try to clear out my mind, the more it becomes tangled with his words. Guess I have no choice left. Maybe it’s something related to Touma?

Hana: ...Alright.

[Evening: Seimei Medical University Porch] 

As I am sitting on the bench after completing the post OP rounds of some patients, a chilled can of coffee hits my cheek.

Kasumi: Here.

Holding two cans of coffee in his hands, he gives me one, and takes a seat beside me. Surprisingly, it’s my favorite flavor, mocha. 

Hana: So, what is it that you wanted to talk about?

Kasumi: ...

Gazing at the children playing at a distance, he remains silent. 

Hana: Dr. Kasumi, I am not a psychic that I can read your mind by telepathy. You have got to say something.

This time also, the response is nothing. Giving up, I look up at the sky, which is painted with a hue of orange and yellow. Gradually, the Sun sets, leaving a pinkish violet band spread in the horizon.

Hana: Look, Dr. Kasumi, the Belt of Venus! Now, you have to say the reas-

What leaves my mouth leaves me surprised. Clasping my mouth with my hand in order to shut it, I slowly move my fingers around the coffee can.

Kasumi: MC.

Hana: Dr. MC? What happened to her? Is she busy today?

Kasumi: You are MC, right? And that name ‘Hana’ is just a false one. Am I wrong?

Hana: You are getting it all wrong, Dr. Kasumi. Look at this hairpin, I am the new resident, not MC...

Kasumi: And what if I say that the hairpin you are wearing is the one you bought when you went to the zoo with me?

I can’t even dare to say a word. What exactly am I supposed to say? That “I am MC, I don’t know what’s going on here” ? I try to push another excuse.

Hana: This hairpin is common here! I think that Dr. MC may also have one at her home. Look, Dr. Kasumi, you might need some rest as you may be overexerting yourself. I will go and inform Dr. Kyogoku, okay?

As I get up from the bench, a sudden grab of my arm makes me stop.

Hana: ?

Kasumi: At least let me justify why I think of you as the MC.

Why those pure eyes? Was his pull not enough? Those eyes are my weakness, and I can’t resist his words.

Hana: Ok, I will listen to you.

Kasumi: Until yesterday, I was unsure myself that which one of you was my MC. The way you said that you are a new resident, all of us had no choice but to believe it as the truth. But when I saw you talking with Touma, that made me clear of your identity. Because my MC is a little childish, likes to get acquainted with patients, and...

Hana: and?

Kasumi: No wonder where you are, I can always recognize you.

His fingers intertwine with mine, and as I am about to reply, Kyogoku comes from the building.

Kyogoku: Kasumi, we have got hold of her true identity.

Without any delay and without loosening his hand, he drags me with him, and we all leave for the EICU. My mind which had turned to mess after all the things he said, was not working at all, so I stay silent to know the truth.

[Evening: Seimei University EICU]

There was she, Dr. MC. All the other doctors were also there. But, why were people from Metro Police Department standing there? And that to, handcuffing her? What the heck was going on while I was outside? Just as I was thinking, a police speaks up.

Police 1: Finally, this miscreant got caught.

Police 2: We are sorry for all the trouble she caused. We will make sure she gets the ‘reward’ for what she had done.

Police 3: Thank you for the help doctors! No wonder you all are jewels! Now, give us the permission to leave.

What the WHAT?! No one was in shock as me. She, A MISCREANT? So, inso and dreaming were not the reason?

Hosho: I am glad to see our MC back!

Takado: Oh, and how foolish of us to think that the silent impostor was this idiot. Never in life.

Ekuni: She didn’t even falter when we threw jokes on her.

Matsunaga: And here I thought, we are going to get two talented doctors... Although I am happy that you are the only precious girl of the EICU.

Kyogoku: Butthead, now you know who you are right?

{A/N: Now, Hana is the actual MC, so no need to use the fake name, otherwise who knows what will Kasumi think of me... ^^;)

MC: God, can anyone please explain what is going on... I might just pass out from the overdose of information.

Kyogoku: Apparently, she was a die-hard fan of Kasumi, or whatever it may be, and was super jealous of you. So she arranged all of this. Went through a plastic surgery to look exactly like you, changed your documents by adding a false name, just to take your place.

MC: Then, how you all figured it out?

Hosho: It was Kasumi who first told us that something was weird.

Takado: That how the office, which is a place of damn banters, was as silent as the sea. Although it was peaceful, it felt wrong.

Ekuni: She didn’t know her own schedule of scrub ins, and didn’t lash us out.

Matsunaga: And most importantly, I was not satisfied her response when I asked her to join me during breaks.

Kasumi: We all are aware of your behavior and your nature, so it was not long till we figured it out.

Kasumi: MC?

Ha... haha, my life. I will not hesitate to say that it is more intense than what happens in mangas. One can do this much only for jealousy? 

MC: Thank god, thank god you all remember me. Here I thought I was in a parallel world and no one recognised me. 

The doctors could sometimes lead me to release smoke from my ears out of fury, but nonetheless, they cared for me, and that’s what of value to me the most.

[Some days later: Touma’s garden]

{A/N: Again, a random picture}

Touma’s surgery is a success. On the day of the surgery, Kasumi volunteered to accompany me in it, as his schedule was open for the morning. The good thing is that he can still walk and talk, although now in wheelchair for some days of recovery. Me and Kasumi, to fulfill our promise to Touma, were leaded to Touma’s garden on the day we paid a home visit to him.

Can I say that the place is paradise? Tulips, lilies, hydrangeas, pansies, daffodils and all the varieties are lined in rows. Adjoining to it is the fruit garden, and beside it is the vegetable one. Huh, did I even know how to plant a sapling when I was of his age? Answer: no.

As I was appreciating the beauty sitting on the cool grass, a small flower is tucked into my hair. It is a Syringa Vulgaris. In other words, a small lilac.

Touma: This looks pretty on you.

MC: Oh, thank you Touma.

But, just after that, a flower crown is placed on my head.

Kasumi: And I think this looks even prettier.

MC: ...

My cheeks flare up crimson. Aww, just how cute are these two, adoring me like that! I can just float in the sky out of happiness,

MC: Thank you. 

MC: Oh, but I wanted to ask something. 

Kasumi: Sure.

MC: If you realized that I was the original piece, then why didn’t you recognize me in the office?

Kasumi: That’s because the other you submitted your reports just before you came. Did you notice that when you were about to submit the papers in your hand, it was not the original but only blank papers?

MC: ...No! Now that I think about it, I was so heartbroken at that time, that I didn’t even glance at it. And probably, she might have done it when I was in post OP rounds, and my documents were all laying on the table. Ah, the headache I felt there might be due to her making me unconscious using chloroform, because I found myself in the closet. God! And here I was thinking that I fainted due to overwork!! That chick, grrr...

Kasumi: Pfft, as expected.

MC: Don’t laugh at me! Well, how did you find the clue then? Even I was confused of my own identity. Didn’t your thoughts waver?

Kasumi: I got the first hint by the hairpin you had. I was pretty sure that it was the same one that you bought when we went to the zoo, and that you always kept it in your bag. But when I asked the other you about this, she just made excuses that she had left it at home. Further, you mentioned about Sora and also exclaimed when the Belt of Venus appeared, so my confirmation was strengthened.

MC: A prodigy you are, aren’t you?

Kasumi: No.

MC: Huh?

Kasumi: No matter which different identity you own, or wherever you may be, I can always recognize you, because you are the most important person to me in my life.

Seeing my blank face, he chuckles and a soft touch lands on my lips, like a feather fluttering on my skin. 

MC: The same goes for me too. I can always recognize you anywhere, because you are the one I love the most.

 As I see the dandelions dancing in the wind, the flowers, fruits and vegetables bathed with sunlight, and the smile of Kasumi, which I yearn the most, I realize something. That I am important to him and so is Kasumi to me. No matter whatever may come, I will always stay by his side, and support him with all my heart.

~

END.

{Author’s trivia: I actually woke up just after the scene where Kasumi realizes that she is his MC. So, I just added the after plot, to complete it.}

That’s it! I am telling you, I was myself feeling butterflies when writing the end part. So I am sure, the story will appeal you just like it appealed to me. Pure nature of Kasumi, dipped in honey felt words. But gahh, it felt so dramatic, the police and all... Let me know what you think. If any requests, feel free to drop it in the suggestion bowl. Have a good day ahead, and give your best everyday, just like our dark prince!

~Lys 

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Blight | Epilogue

Jeon Jungkook/Reader [F]

Genre: Dragon/Shapeshifter AU, Magic AU, Enemies to Lovers

Warning(s): a very very brief mention of phantom pain, that’s it! 

Rated: PG-13

Words: 5.5k

“Babe, we have to get up,” a distinctive voice grumbled from behind you after their fit of arm swings to knock the alarm clock off its perch on the bedside table ended. Although a sentence of action, both you and the man laying behind you were reluctant to move a single inch. The mattress too soft, the morning sun from the window too warm and the small, soft hum of the music playing from his phone too tempting to fall back asleep to. 

You felt him move around behind you.  His legs that were between yours like zipper teeth moved to untangle and left your skin cold. You grumbled when he moved and took his arms away from your waist next and rolled so the warmth of his chest left your back.  

The box spring whined under the weight movement on the mattress as he sat up and stretched behind you.  He planted his hands beside him as he looked at you, still not moving.  He was tempted to set the alarm back off.  It used to take an army to get him up, but after living with you and sleeping beside you for so long- he’s learned that you were harder to wake up than he was.  He chuckled and you heard him and pushed your chin under the blanket that was over your shoulder.  Content on ignoring him and going back to bed. 

“Y/n, seriously.  We have to go to Jimin’s today.  If we don’t we may not see our son again for another week,” Jungkook teased behind you.  You finally squint open your eyes as you looked over your shoulder to your dragon husband.  His golden, shirtless body fresh of sleep gleaming too brilliantly for the early hour.

When you both finally graduated, Jungkook had already been making plans on where you would live after you both got booted out of the dorms after graduation. Yoongi had already moved back in with his dad until he got his own place and Jimin also joined the little family in the small cottage.  You didn’t want to impose on Parrish- who you finally stopped calling Uncle and started calling dad- and overfill the house. 

Instead, Jungkook offered to get a place together.  It wasn’t so surprising seeing as Jungkook had been your boyfriend for 3 years by that time.  It took nearly two weeks before you both were sitting down and signing a lease for a suburban house in the city. Along with that, you both chose to take on typical human jobs in the city you lived in as opposed to magic-based jobs most bewitched graduates aim for. 

When you first started moving in, Yoongi and Jimin had come to help.  Jimin helped you set things up while Yoongi and Jungkook carried in boxes and furniture. Jimin quite enjoyed it, so much that when he convinced Yoongi to move to the same city as you and Jungkook with him, he applied to a company in need of an interior designer.  Yoongi got a small-time job at some edgy-teen shop but was somehow contacted by some clothes designer to be used as a model.  He’s been with them ever since. 

Now, later and you still lived in that same house you got with Jungkook.  You were currently out of a job, since your last one laid you off- the assholes- and Jungkook worked at a small daycare about 10 minutes down the main road. You never actually knew the extent of how much Jungkook liked kids until you went to bring him the lunch he forgot at home on the counter and saw him with two kids tucked under each arm, swinging in circles like an out of control carousel. 

He was also one out of only a few men who worked there, the remaining staff of females all had nothing but good things to say about your hubby.  He was good with kids and they said he had a special knack for getting them to stop crying. Some say it was because his rosy pink hair made the kids feel like their talking to a superhero. Of course, the staff also knew about him being a dragon- he accidentally let it slip when he was caught blowing fire into the oven to heat it up faster- not the wisest idea. 

However, his dragon traits worked out- especially in the case of the little girls who wanted to play ‘princess’ in the fake, plastic castle outside by the sandbox. Jungkook was always the dragon and was always being ‘slain’ by the little boy who came to rescue the princess. They gave him a cookie each time they played though- as a reward. 

To follow, you remember when you got engaged to Jungkook who was right now nudging your shoulder to wake you up. He had dressed up to impress- an ironed button-up shirt in the softest shade of yellow, tucked into light jeans that complimented his lower half almost too well.  The belt around his waist reminded you just how small it was. His hair was brushed and pulled just out of his face enough to show his forehead- you knew he had to have gone to the salon for that. 

He urged you to get dressed because he was taking you on a spontaneous date with the reason being ‘he just wanted to��.  You, having no reason to argue, went with him before he was taking you outside and walking around.  

Down past downtown, there was a giant park for people to visit and walkthrough.  With hedges of flowers, to circles paths with fountains and benches, a playground for kids and even a small theatre for outside performances. Of course, the entire place was littered with trees and being the middle of autumn at the time, leaves of all colors were being blown off branches and onto the ground for someone to step on them with a satisfying crunch. 

He asked you to marry him when he stopped you in front of one of the fountains with a small, silver ring to offer you.  You cried and so did he before he was calling Jimin to say that you had said yes to him.  Of course, all he got from Yoongi was a short congratulations and a threat to not do anything to you or else the warlock would be after some new, shiny pink scales. 

However, when Yoongi texted you later that evening, he unraveled a long, heartfelt congratulations to you.  Ending it with the fact that you deserved to be happy and if it had to be anyone, he was glad you were marrying Jungkook. 

“Oh please,” you slurred, finally starting to wake up against your will. “Jimin loves Eli,” you finished.  For the past three days, Jimin and Yoongi had been babysitting their nephew, your son, simply because Jimin whined he didn’t get to see him enough.  With the argument of ‘what if he grows up and doesn’t know me, that cannot happen!’, you yield and allowed the sleepover for 3 days to commence. It had been an extended weekend, so your 6-year-old son didn’t have school until tomorrow. Which is precisely why you needed to pick him up to bring him home today. 

“I know,” Jungkook chuckled.  “That’s what worries me.  If he spends a fourth day over there, he’s gonna get re-adopted by Jimin.” 

You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless, started to get up. The possibility of Jungkook’s joke is a little bit too accurate.  Jungkook moved swiftly, grabbing under your arm to lift you to sit up as he held your hand.  He had this thing about looking at your wedding band every morning when he woke up.  He still laughs remembering the fit you put up when you realized you couldn’t put a wedding ring on your left hand if you don’t have a left hand.  So, he had to swap out your engagement ring with your wedding one on your right hand.  

You yawned again, checking the time.  Almost 9am.  You run your hand over your face before flipping your hair out of your face and beginning to scoot out of bed, inch by inch.  Jungkook bounded out of bed quicker than you did as he jogged to your side and helped you stand.  

You had pretty much got used to your life with only your right arm.  You’ve had many people say that you could always work something out to get a prosthetic or even a whole new arm with magic, but you always refused. You had made a decision a long time ago, and your price was paid.  You wouldn’t go back on that- you’re too stubborn. 

Jungkook had you on your feet in moments as he pushed your hair out of your eyes and behind your head.  He could still see the sleep clouding in your eyes as he smiled and kissed your forehead.  

“Take a shower first,” he told you as he moved to take you out of the bedroom with a hand on your back. “We can go get Eli and take him out for lunch or something, I’ll call Jimin to tell him.” You wordlessly nodded, biting back another yawn as you both separated in the hall as Jungkook pat your ass.  You went to the bathroom as Jungkook went to the kitchen. 

You washed your sleepiness away in the warm shower that steamed up the bathroom before you were washing your hair.  An everyday chore that became a talent when you learned how to do it all one-handed.  You had to relearn a lot of things one-handed, but you thought of yourself as a talented woman if you could do all that and more with one arm.  

When you got out and wrapped a towel around your chest, you padded back into your bedroom to go through your clothes to get something decent to wear out.  You’ve been a bum the past 3 days.  Without Eli begging to go somewhere and not picking him up from places, as well as Jungkook being the only working parent at the moment, you had no reason to leave the house. So it had been pj's and messy hair for 3 straight days.  

Slipping on the least sexy pair of underwear you owned, but the most comfortable of all, you clipped on your bra and paraded around your room to your closet with your hair up in a towel wad.  It was warm out now, the threshold between spring and summer getting closer each passing day.  

Shrugging, you pulled out an off-shoulder white blouse with ruffles along the top of the fabric and a pair of black and white, pen-stripped shorts you had practically drooled at the moment you saw them in the store.  Your blouse made it openly obvious to any onlooker you were missing your arm, yet the frills that hung off the sleeves and across the chest were just long enough to hide the scar left behind where your arm used to be. 

The open shoulders also let anyone who happened to look at you see the bright, white tattoo on your shoulder and down your chest.  An open display of your connection with your husband who happened to double as your familiar.  

Pulling on some black socks one by one, you took your brush from your dresser top (you had two, one you kept in the bathroom and the other in the bedroom for your random urges to brush your tangled hair) and made your way to Jungkook. Following the sounds of clanking dishes in the kitchen along with the smell of borderline burnt toast. 

Walking around the corner, you saw Jungkook snatch the toast just as soon as it popped up out of the toaster.  Plopping it on his plate and smearing on an absurd amount of butter that melted almost immediately, you almost rolled your eyes.  You eyed his back in silence, looking at the large, blotched scar on his back. The same scar you have nightmares about- the scar from the thunderbolt your father threw into his back all those years ago. 

You also moved to look at the large tattoo of white on his left arm.  Looking at it always made the vile bitterness in your mouth fade with the memory of his scar.  That tattoo made you feel like there were all sorts of candies in your mouth as the butterflies fluttered in your gut. 

“I can feel you staring at me,” he chuckled as he turned around.  He bit into the corner of his toast, crumbs falling and catching onto the tassels of his sweats he wore as pjs.  His face nearly split in half as he smiled and chewed, giggling between bites before the entire piece of bread was gone.  He still gets as giddy as he did the first day he saw that tattoo each time he sees it.  

“Can you tie my hair up for me today?” you asked him, a small pull on your lip as he was starting to move around the island counter towards you before you stopped him. “Ah! Wash your hands first, butterfingers.” He just rolled his eyes and made a dramatic scene of him washing his hands, using wayyyy too much soap and then drying them off before he was making grabby hands for your hairbrush. “You are such a child,” you laughed at him as you handed it over.  

“I know,” he confirmed as he led you to a stool and sat you down, going behind you to pull your hair back and out of your face. “That’s what makes me such a catch.” He took a hair tie from the handle of the brush and put it between his teeth as he brushed with both the brush and his fingers.  “How do you want it?” He asked.  

You shrugged. “However? Just off my neck please.” He nodded, not that you could see it.  He knew that you didn’t like your hair on your neck when you were going out in what would shape up to be a hot afternoon.  Pinning it up first, he pushed your shoulders down when you moved to get up presuming he was done. 

“M’not done,” he murmured in concentration.  He had gotten a lot of practice doing hair from playing with the little girls at work.  Working with hair from sleeky and blonde to frizzy and untamable and curled beyond belief. You just sat still, letting him work.  He ran off once to grab something before he was back and was twisting and twirling your hair around his hand. He was pinning it with something before he was stepping back and clapping for himself for a job well done. “Alright, you can get up now.” 

You did so and automatically moved to the living room where a small mirror hung beside a photo of Jungkook, Eli and you from last year’s family photo shoot.  He had rolled your hair up into a bun behind your head and pinned it up with chopsticks. Well, one chopstick and a No.2 yellow pencil.  You bit back a laugh and just smiled at him.  

“It’s lovely, Jungkook,” you complimented.  The smile on his face made you happy to wear his chopstick and pencil hair-do.  “Go, get dressed and shower now.” You told him before he was kissing your cheek and running off to get ready for the day. 

Coming back out with a white t-shirt, jeans and boots that made him at least 3 inches taller. Along with a black bomber jacket on. His hair only partially brushed, but whatever. It worked. 

XXX

“Jimin! Hey, we’re here! I hope my son is too!” You called into the house as you and Jungkook walked inside.  You had a third key to Yoongi and Jimin’s apartment- Yoongi giving you one when he lost a bet with you. What bet? Well, the bet that Jimin wouldn’t ask him out on a date before valentine's day.  You bet that he would Yoongi was doubtful, but on February 13th, Jimin asked him to go on a date to the zoo (of all places). 

Of course, the relinquishment of their third key wasn’t all that bad, I mean Yoongi lucked out with a hot, hellhound boyfriend by the end of the day. He wouldn’t miss that key anyways. 

“Of course he is!” Yoongi yelled back. “He’s coloring with Jimin on the balcony!” He shouted in addition.  You and Jungkook took off your shoes as you both waltz into the familiar apartment.  Yoongi sat at his desk out in the living room, open tabs with words and photos on it.  You padded up behind your brother, peering over his shoulder.  Pictures of him in leather jackets and fishnet ripped jeans showing on the screen. 

“Oh, are these from your last photoshoot with- uh, what’s her name?” 

“It’s, Lily, and yes, it is. She wanted to do a greasy look, not sure how I’m feeling about it though.” He hummed as he pushed his knuckles into his cheek, bouncing his opinion of himself in his head.  

“I think it looks really good on you.” You told him as Jungkook popped up on his brother-in-law’s other side and smirked. 

“You look like a playboy,” he teased as Yoongi glared over his shoulder.  You nudged Jungkook with a hushed ‘don’t be mean’. “I mean it in the most attractive, positive and encouraging way possible. I promise.” 

“Whatever, snake boy.” Yoongi moved from his desk, closing the pictures and other windows before he was getting out of his chair and moving to the glass doors to the outside balcony.  It was surprisingly spacious and large.  Big enough for a small round table, two chairs and a little toy box with outside toys the boys kept at their place for when Eli does come over. 

He knocked on the glass to get the attention of the two boys outside that were out of sight.  He opened the door a bit before sticking his head out. 

“Hey, little man.  Mom and pops are here for you,” he spoke, a smile on his face. Yoongi opened the door fully as from around the corner, a small little ball of fury ran inside.  Jimin came into the glass door’s view right after.  His previous silver hair from school turned jet black due to his True Contract he formed with Yoongi. His eyes a permanent shade of silver as well.  

“Mama! Papa!” Your son, Eli, shouted as he ran from outside to inside and caught sight of his parents.  Jungkook knelt as Eli ran full force into his father’s arms as Jungkook didn’t hesitate to pick him up and swing him around.  Lowering him back down to sit at his waist and against his chest, Jungkook chuckled as Eli clung to him, wrapping his small arms around his dad to hug him.  

Jungkook set him down then as Eli turned to you as you knelt, hugging him on the ground.  It was harder for you to pick him up with one arm now that he was growing.  When he was younger it was easier.  

Jungkook and you both decided to adopt Eli 3 years ago.  When he was 3, he was chosen to be a part of your family.  He wasn’t a full human, but he was bewitched just like the rest of your family.  He wasn’t a Shifter like Jungkookor Jimin and he wasn’t a witch or warlock like you or Yoongi.  Instead, he was a sunsprite half-blood.  

His full head of blonde hair and golden eyes were enchanting and innocent to look at with his child demeanor.  His nose and cheeks dotted with freckles as his skin was tanned even darker than Jungkook’s.  He was the sweetest boy and you were happier every passing day that he was yours.  Eli knew that Jungkook and you weren’t his real mom and dad, but he still loved you anyway.  

You let go of your son as he moved to run back to Jimin outside who was talking to Yoongi at the glass door.  Jimin looked down at him, smiling as he bent down to talk to him as you raise yourself back to your feet. 

“What’s up?” Jimin asked. 

“I have to clean up my toys!” Eli chirped.  He was such a well behaved boy.  Jimin nodded as he stood back up, taking Eli’s hand. 

“Alright! Uncle Jimin will help you!” He giggled as the two disappeared behind the wall and ran back and forth with the toys that previously littered the balcony.  Yoongi moved to sit on the couch and picked up a book he had bookmarked on the coffee table next to a mug of cold coffee.  Or, well previously cold coffee that he heated up with magic as he took a sip.  

For such a well-rounded warlock, graduating the top of his class and getting the rank of A-Class warlock, he sure decided to forego and use his magic for mundane things.  Heating up his cold beverages just being one of the many things he does.  

Jungkook moved to sit down on a recliner as you moved to sit beside Yoongi, asking him about his book before asking how Eli was over the course of his stay. 

“He’s been fine, Y/n.  You and Jungkook do a good job teaching him things.  He’s not a hard kid,” Yoongi reassured.  You often wondered if you were doing a good job raising Eli, seeing as you didn’t have the best upbringing. The fear always struck hardest when you were waking up in the middle of the night or just randomly jumping into pain in the living room.  The moments your arm burned with phantom pain and when Eli was crying holding his sun warm hands to your arm as Jungkook held you. You son asking over and over ‘is mama okay?’. That’s when it was hardest.  

Jungkook always reassured you every time though.  “He always went to bed without a fuss and Jimin read to him when he wasn’t sleepy.  He picked up after himself and he didn’t splash when he took a bath. All is well with the world and Eli,” Yoongi finished.  

“Okay. I just get worried, you know.” You smiled.  Yoongi pat your leg before he was pinching your cheek.  

“I know,” he told you with that flat, soft smile that pushed at his cheeks he only gave to you- his little sister.  

“Hey,” Jungkook interrupted the conversation, getting you and Yoongi to look at him. “We’re gonna take Eli to lunch, do you and Jimin want to come with us?” Jungkook offered.  You smiled before looking at Yoongi.  It took a long time for Jungkook to actually get accustomed to Yoongi’s presence once again.  After you and him began a couple and the True Contract was finalized, Yoongi seemed to glare at him every time he saw him.  Jungkook was the teensiest bit scared of the overpowered warlock and his overkill familiar- not that he’d admit it.  

Him asking your brother and his boyfriend out to lunch with you- his wife- and his child was a big step from where he was years ago.  Yoongi seemed to think a bit before he smiled and shut his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Nah, we’ll let the happy family have their own lunchtime together.  We spent 3 days with him, you can have him back.” You felt a little disappointed. A big family lunch was always fun, but you didn’t force him.  You missed having quality time outside with your husband and child anyways.  So, you won in the end regardless. 

Soon, Jimin came back inside with Eli on his back. The toys picked up and back into the box outside. The glass door was shut and locked, the yellow drapes being pulled shut as Jimin let the young boy slide down his back to his feet. Yoongi got up off the couch as he started to make his way down the hall into the bedroom Eli had been staying in.  

“Come on, little man. Let’s get your stuff.  Your mom and pops are gonna take you out today.” Eli’s little face lit up with a glow that mimicked the sun as he ran to his uncle’s side and grabbed his hand.  Holding it as they walked into his room and started getting his things together.  Yoongi denied it, but he was so good with kids.  

Jimin walked to you, plopping down beside you, opposite of where Yoongi was sitting before.  He smiled, his wrinkled t-shirt obviously the same one he woke up in and never changed out of.  

“You look nice today, Y/n.”  He complimented as you smiled.  

“Thanks.  You look comfy.” 

“I am!” He laughed as he slouched back on the couch’s arm.  Jungkook behind him rolled his eyes at his best friend’s lazy behavior. The three of you started talking and somehow the conversation devolved to one about Yoongi’s photoshoot far too quickly.  Jungkook told him about how he looked like a heartbreaker and how you thought he looked nice.  Jimin began to go on and on about how he thought the look in question looked great on him and that leather looked especially good on his boyfriend.  

“‘Cuse me, how about you stop this conversation now,” Yoongi piped up with a heated face as he came back into the room with Eli.  A small, ninja turtle backpack on his shoulders and a spiderman lunch box filled with coloring books and crayons at his side. Yoongi never did take compliments well, especially when they're coming from his boyfriend about the way he looks in leather. 

When Jungkook started teasing him, Yoongi told Eli to cover his eyes, in which the child did promptly, and then slim ribbons of black lifted Jungkook to the ceiling, hanging him upside down until he apologized.  To which, Yoongi unsympathetically dropped him on his back.  When Eli uncovered his eyes, he laughed loudly at his dad upside down on the recliner.  

Soon, the trio were standing at the front door.  Eli helping his mom put her flats on, even if she didn't need the help and Jungkook strapping on his boots.  Jimin and Yoongi stood with them, Yoongi’s arm casually around Jimin’s shoulders. 

Eli pulled on his shoes, singing a little song he learned at school on what shoe to put on which foot.  The weak, led lights under his feet when he stomped lighting up a shade of red when he stood up and hopped.  Eli waved to Yoongi as he high-fived Jimin’s outstretched hand. 

“Bye-bye Uncle Yoongi and Uncle Jimin!” Eli cheered as he was soon ushered out the door by Jungkook who was already starting the car and racing Eli to the back seat to put him in his booster seat.  He was still too small to be without one. You turned to the two men. 

“Thanks for watching him, I think he enjoyed himself,” you giggled.  You had no doubt lunch and the car ride home would be filled with stories of what he did with his two uncles.  

“I love having him over, any longer and I would’ve just adopted him myself,” Jimin joked.  

“Yeah, Jungkook said that too,” you told him.  Jimin opened his mouth in offense as Yoongi laughed.  Shooing you out before Jimin really does march outside and take your child from Jungkook and locks the front door.  

As you knew, once you were in the passenger seat and Jungkook started driving, Eli started yammering on about all the fun he had.  He talked about the shadow plays Yoongi put on about fairy tales.  Or how Jimin would shift into his hellhound form and would carry Eli on his back- something Jimin would need to stop doing before Eli got too much bigger. 

You watched him through the rearview mirror as Jungkook was part of the conversation while diligently watching the road.  One hand of his was on the wheel, the other in your lap.  

When you three pulled up to Eli’s favorite little fast food place with a giant play area, he was nothing but cheers and promises to behave. While you and Jungkook were easy-going parents, you’ve taken him home a handful of times due to his behavior or the occasional temper tantrum.  Jungkook turned off the car and turned in his seat to look at the sparkling, gold eyes of his son. 

“You promise not to be a bad kid? You’re gonna listen to Mama and Papa today?” Jungkook asked as Eli nodded fervently.  Jungkook reached out to him, offering his pink. “You promise Papa?” Eli quickly promised his dad with his pink as Jungkook smiled. “Alright. Then, let’s go eat and have some fun.” You got out of the car as Jungkook unlatched Eli from his seat and the three of you went inside.  

Eli spent over an hour playing with the other kids who were playing in the play area. Climbing walls, going down slides, and speaking through connected, plastic bullhorns. He loved coming here and you didn’t mind him blowing off his energy.  He’d sleep well at least.  Jungkook sat beside you on the bench for parents that ran along the room’s perimeter, his arm over your shoulders long the top of the bench.  

You both spoke with other parents about how the kids always had fun.  Even a few staff members spoke to you, you both being here often due to Eli’s love of the place you got familiar with some staff.  You’ve even gotten a few coupons for your next visit too. Sometimes it pays to be a regular.  

When Eli was done playing, Jungkook drove to the park when Eli asked if he could go see the flowers.  He loved the flowers in the park because that’s where his mama and papa adopted him- or so they told him. He was too young to remember- only being three.  

When the three of them got out Eli watched as Jungkook walked to your right.  Eli opened his mouth, but shut it and whined.  You turned around as your son was soon motioning for Jungkook.  Jungkook looked at you before he knelt and let his son whisper in his ear.  Jungkook rolled his lips over his teeth as he smiled and ruffled his son's sunny, blonde hair. 

“Of course you can hold Mama’s hand, silly kid.” Jungkook chuckled as he poked Eli’s stomach.  He had left his backpack and lunch box in the car as Jungkook locked it up and Eli jumped to your side.  He grabbed your right hand with his left before he reached out his empty right hand. He smiled. 

“Papa can hold my hand too!” He cheered as Jungkook nearly fell to his knees.  The sunny smile of his cute son almost too much to handle.  He took his son’s hand as the three of you started walking through the park.  The two of you swung him from time to time before he wanted to sit down because his feet hurt.  

The three of you sat on a bench in front of the same fountain Jungkook asked you to marry you at. Before long, Eli- still holding both of your hands- hand slumped against your chest, falling asleep.  Before long he was passed out in a small nap as you just smiled at him.  Jungkook brushed his child’s hair from his face before he leaned over and kissed his head.  

“I think he had fun today,” you softly spoke.  Jungkook nodded.  

“He’ll be out for a while, but we’ll wake him up soon so he can sleep tonight,” Jungkook recalled he had school and ran through a checklist of what to do when they all got home.  Empty out his backpack of fun weekend toys and storybooks and refill it with his pencil box and letter books for school.  

“That’s true,” you replied. “You get to wake him up through,” you teased.  Leaving the job of ‘bad parent’ to Jungkook.  He gasped lightly before he sneered at you with a smile.  His nose scrunching up before he was kissing your cheek again.  

He leaned his head on your shoulder as he kept brushing his fingers through his son’s blonde head of soft hair.  Poking his freckled cheek on occasion as Eli kept a firm hold on both yours and Jungkook’s hands. 

“Are you happy, Y/n?” He asked out of nowhere.  You looked at the crown of his rosy dragon hair.  You smiled as you kissed his head to which you felt his cheeks lift as he smiled against your shoulder.  “I’m making you happy right? We’re making you happy?” He gestured to Eli. 

“You both make me more than happy. It’s hardly even a question.” You assured as he relaxed more on your shoulder.  Before long you were having to wake up both your son and your husband who fell asleep on your shoulder on the park he proposed in. The park where you started your own family.  

Yes, you were oh so happy. 

[pokemonswshbutionlyplayedsword]

Wut do u think the gym leaders would dress up as for Halloween?

I like Halloween asks a lot because it can be either goofy or metaphorical. We’ll see where this one goes. Also, this’ll just be for a Halloween that has happened. This will also take place at a Halloween party that Rose throws because then I force myself to give everyone a costume by preventing myself from being able to say someone didn’t go. Also, of course, Rose would.

Milo:

-Honestly, I can see him not being a huge fan of Halloween. As a farm boy, he’s not a huge fan of candy. He also does not like being scared and dislikes horror content.

-However, he tries to get with the spirits and puts together a pretty neat minotaur costume. He wants to incorporate animals, but he doesn’t want to look cliche. It’s really impressive actually, and it works because he’s beefy. He gets a lot of compliments, but he wishes Rose’s lame Halloween party would end because the clip-on nose ring is starting to get sore. Halloween costumes are not meant to be comfortable. They are meant to be cool and don’t ever forget it. It’s about the aesthetic.

Nessa:

-Classic cute witch. Not an ugly one with a long nose. She wants to keep it simple and classy. Short black dress, green and black tights and black heels with green puffs at the ankle. A big witch hat and maybe a prop broom if she’s feeling bold.

-She has killer pictures for her social media. She looks so good and she knows it. Although it’s simple, Nessa has one of the best costumes out of the league. She was one of the few to enjoy Rose’s annual Halloween part because she got so many compliments and a lot of attention and also she won the costume competition again.

-She considered mermaid, but she didn’t know how to make it look good and also be able to walk, so that was over quickly.

Kabu:

-Kabu is not a big Halloween person. He doesn’t really want to go to the party, but he stays on brand and chooses a fire type pokemon to dress up as. He puts together a pretty classy Pyroar costume. It’s subtle, more like an inspired outfit, but it works well enough for people to know what he means.

-He strays away from traditional costumes because that’s not really his tradition. He usually always throws on an outfit that resembles what he’s trying to portray. Fortunately, he’s skillful enough to do it tastefully.

Bea:

-Ninja. Haha. Martial arts. She doesn’t hide her face with a mask, but her outfit is clear enough. While ninjas don’t really do martial arts, as she has to correct people all night, it was pretty fun anyway. She doesn’t like candy, but she does like dressing up.

-She doesn’t like Rose’s party, though. No one really does, but she dislikes it for different reasons. Every guest is so ignorant and she spend the night explaining to everyone why ninjas don’t do martial arts and what they actually are. She wishes she was old enough to drink so she could have something to pass the time with.

Allister:

-A spooky skeleton. He’s got an all black suit with bones on it. He also swaps his mask out with one that looks like a skull. He’s a bit bored at Rose’s party, though, because he’s the only kid there, other than Marnie, Hop and Bede, since they had to be there as well, but they’re still a bit older. They entertain him, though, at least Hop and Marnie do.

-He likes Halloween a lot. Spooky. Ghosties. Candy. It’s his favorite day of the year. Even more than his birthday. Rose’s party goes by with people talking to him about how much he loves Halloween and how fitting it is for the ghost type specialist.

Opal:

-A fairy. What else, though? Maybe even Queen Mab. She’s really elegant. She has big long wings draped behind her and a stunning old gown. She also made herself a crown of sticks and flowers to really fit the faerie aesthetic. She got second in the costume competition.

-She spends most of the time sitting and chatting, so people didn’t really get a good look at her costume until the end of the evening, but oh boy, did she shine.

Gordie:

-An ogre. He paints his face green and gets fake teeth to put on, as well as pointy ears. The teeth make it a bit hard to talk, and he unfortunately has to forgo the sunglasses to make it a good costume.

-A lot of compliments. A lot of people asked why he didn’t dress as a rock monster and all he can say is he would never glue a bunch of rocks to his body for a costume. Which is fair but also unnecessary.

Melony:

-Ice queen. Not Elsa, though. Just a queen with icy powers. She puts her hair up in an elaborate bun and has an “icicle” crown and a long blue dress. She looks very nice, like formal, but that doesn’t stop people from coming up and being casual, which is something she was worried about.

-Her dress had a bunch of fake fur and stuff like that to fit the theme, but Melony had to take the overcoat off every once in a while because Rose’s mansion (which is where the party takes place) is like a furnace to her. It was worth it, though.

Piers:

-A vampire. This is one of the few things that Piers is enthusiastic about because he really likes Halloween. He’s got a great costume for it, too, since he can find the perfect style for it so easily in Spikemuth. So maybe he’s worn the same costume three years in a row, but he also got third place in the costume contest for three years in a row, so sue him.

-He spent the day before the party putting his hair in an elaborate braid for the Aesthetic. Maybe a little bit of makeup and fake fangs to really get into it, but he couldn’t spend too much time. As per usual, he also had to help Marnie get ready, because she had to come with him. Close family of gym leaders and those that were invited are also welcome, and Piers doesn’t want to leave her alone on Halloween.

Raihan:

-A knight. It’s a sick costume, and... Wait, no, Raihan. You’re wearing actual armor. Like, metal armor. Isn’t that hot? Yeah, it really is, but anything for the look. He’s been trying to beat Piers in the costume contest since last year, but he can’t. Because he has to take it off halfway through the party because it gets too hot. When will he learn?

-To be fair, it looks really good. He’s got enough knowledge in history and money to make an accurate suit of armor. Fortunately, he makes the sword fake, so he can get in, though. He’s stopped and searched by security a few times, just to make sure the sword’s a handle glued to the scabbard.

Leon:

-I’m sure this is pretty obvious, but a king. He’s got a big crown, and he swaps out his usual cape for an even bigger one, because of course he does. Some people are confused why Leon’s the kind and not Rose, but no one asks. Leon doesn’t get a lot of time to work on it, since he’s so busy, but he comes through with a solid costume anyway.

-In fact, as Champion, he gets a throne anyway at the end of the night, when everyone sits down and awards/prizes/ect. are handed out. So it fits. He wishes he could put a crown on Charizard, too, but his buddy just isn’t having any of it.

I’ve got some bonuses for you, anon, since I like this prompt so much.

Rose:

-Rose is a Copperajah. He wears an intricate mask and suit to keep it classy. It’s a nice costume, but you can tell not a lot of effort and thought went into it.

-Oleana made it for the most part. Well, she bought it. Rose didn’t even know what his costume was until he got ready for the party.

Oleana:

-She didn’t want to dress up, but she had to. She went with a devil. She knows this doesn’t bode well for her, but she doesn’t care. It’s not like anyone’s bold enough to say anything to her face anyways.

-She has a red suit, little horns, a tail on the back of her belt and a plastic pitchfork. It doesn’t get in the way much, since she sticks close to Rose anyway. Some of the gym leaders joke to each other when she’s not around. Nothing mean, usually lighthearted. They’re not jerks.

Hop:

-Being Leon’s little brother, Hop is invited. He’s pretty happy. It beats trick or treating because he gets to hang out with Marnie. Unfortunately, Bede’s not in the friend group yet because this is before the game. Anyway, Hop is an elf.

-He has a pretty simple costume, but it works. Pointed ears, a simple, elvish outfit and a fake bow to wear over his shoulder. No arrows, though, but he knew that already.

Marnie:

-She goes with Piers to a) keep him sane b) prevent herself from being alone on Halloween and c) to hang out with Hop. She’s a vampire, much like her brother. In fact, they’re pretty much matching. A bunch of people think it’s cute that brother and sister match each other, but really, Marnie did it because it was easy.

-She does take the fake fangs out pretty early, though. Not that it’s a big deal, but bobbing for apples is, surprisingly, harder with sharp elongated fake teeth. Also, she bit her tongue and it’s just not worth it. She loves Halloween, but what good is it if she tears her tongue of before she gets to eat any candy.

Bede:

-Bede is a mummy. Wrapped up in a mummy costume and stuff. He goes because he’s with Rose. He doesn’t do much, though. Hop and Marnie try to invite him to join them, but he doesn’t associate with rubbish like them. Oh, you sweet summer child. Soon, you’ll learn the value of these two.

-He ends up being pretty bored and wishing a little bit that he’d accepted their offer because they looked like they were having fun. Allister comes and talks to him for a little bit, though, so it’s not all bad. And he gets candy, too, so that’s cool.

[joesingleton-blog1]

[lwoorl]

The Day Laika Came Back

Link to ao3

Note: This is an experiment to see if posting my fanfictions in both tumblr and ao3 is worth it. If this publication gets to at least 50 notes (not counting self-reblogs) in the following 3 weeks I will start posting my future fics in tumblr, otherwise I will stick to only publishing in ao3.

Summary:  Jon Kent comes back from space, years older and unable to believe he made it home. But coming back to the life he left won’t go as smoothly as he wished it did.

Jon can’t help it, he has to stare. Everything is so new and nostalgic at the same time, like a dream he’s had every single night for years and years and only now can clearly remember. It doesn’t feel real, the trees, the sky, as if someone took the string of memories he barely could hold, those precious, faded images he was starting to doubt if ever even happened and knitted a world out of it, colorful and lovely and solid. The final sentences from a poem he could barely recall, suddenly coming together into something he can hold.

It’s too good to be true and it makes the back of his neck ache, hurt and burn with that sense of dread crawling all over his shoulders, like subconsciously he knows any moment now the universe will pull him by the hair and throw him back into the darkness of space like a rag doll, like it all will dissolve if he so much as reaches to pick up a flower and he will be forced to admit what he’s been fearing for a long time now, that this never existed and the infinite void and the rocky prison is his only real place, that he appeared there and will roam there and will die there and all there is is there and there and there and nothing else than there and all those memories he holds so dear are just a bad joke, a carrot dangling in front of a horse to keep it walking; A plastic carrot.

But right now, he isn’t there. He’s here. And it’s real and true and alive and he can’t help but to look at everything with very round wide eyes like a baby who was just born. Drinking all around him like a man who’s been in the desert a decade and a half and will die if he doesn’t drink all the water in the world.

It happens all too quickly, the arrival, the fighting, confusion, questions, answers, kind words, harsh words, words, words, words all around, all in English, not kryptonian or other alien language but his mom’s tongue. He keeps it together through all that and puts a brave face on, and then when no one but his parents are watching and it’s all over he cries on his dad’s shoulder and his mom’s arms are around him and Jon shakes and chokes and laughs.

Time passes, seconds, hours, it’s not even been four days when a lot of people congregate around him. They ask more questions and he gives more answers and they demand proves and tests and argue and discuss and through all that he can’t help but to pass his eyes over their faces and almost gasp when he sees anything vaguely familiar. Dad’s friends, dad’s coworkers, that one’s wonder woman, that one’s a green lantern, that one’s this, this one’s that, that, those, these, and then his eyes rest on someone he thought he would never see again and if he thought his eyes couldn’t widen more, well, he was wrong.

He’s shorter than Jon remembers and he also got a bit wrong the length of the hair, but the costume, that’sexactly as he pictured it in his mind all these years, from the boots to the cape to the utility belt, he got it all right.

Damian has his eyes very open just like Jon, he can notice it even with the mask, and suddenly he really wishes he could take it off, to see his eyes. He can’t remember if they were green or blue.

He’s stuck there, being hit once again with the amazing, ecstatic thisisrealimherenotthere feeling, just going over his friend’s features, burning the image in his mind, and then Damian bites his lips and looks away like someone slapped him and it comes crashing down.

…Ah.

His dad will always be his dad, and his mom his mom, but he never… Well, he did, but not really, not seriously, he never… Actually thought how it would be for everything else.

Because, well, it makes sense, he's… He isn’t the same as when he left, he took too long coming back and now. And- And probably if he had taken one or two, maybe even three years that wouldn’t be much of a difference, maybe, but he's… He probably doesn’t look at all like his younger self.

And… It hasn’t been that long here. And now he thinks about what it must be like, what it would be like for him as a kid, and he realizes a lot of people probably won’t see him as himself. Won't… It will be more like this eleven years old just dissipated in thin air and a randomadult that just so happens to share his name appeared in his place and those two only have the most tiniest of connections and that one time when he met that older version of Damian and himself he didn’t actually think of them as them , did he? Not as…

He keeps looking at the ground for the rest of the Justice League meeting, and when everyone starts to leave he doesn’t notice Damian walking towards him until he speaks.

“Jon.”

He feels like jumping out of his own skin. He looks up, and then down, because Damian is short and a kid. And Jon isn’t, not anymore, and then Damian starts to open his mouth to say something but Jon doesn’t want to hear it, he doesn’t, because if there’s another thing he remembers of his best friend is that he’s mean, good intentioned and warm, a really good person once you know him, but also oh so damn harsh, and he usually could deal with that and see the real meaning lurking under his words but right now he’s tired, beaten and in the middle of a life crisis and can’t, doesn’t want to and won’t deal with it. So he bails. He just walks out and leaves him there, half a word out of his lips, he then goes back to his dad’s side and absconds from the encounter.

Some time passes, he settles, and doesn’t get in contact with anyone. Because it would hurt, right? He already proved he can’t face Damian; Kathy would either cry or smile and act like it’s fine, but he doubts she will see him as her friend and not a shadow of someone she knew; And he can’t actually tell any of his school friends… He’s ashamed to admit, he doesn’t really remember half of them.

So he stays in Metropolis and thinks what to do. He can’t just retake school where he left it, he will most likely have to work on getting a GED. He can’t hang out with people he knew, not now that he’s so different. He doesn’t think he will leave to do anything in space as long as he lives. And he doesn’t feel like looking for a job. So he stays with his parents dear Rao he missed them and throws himself into fighting crime, perfectly and completely, until it’s almost like he doesn’t have a civilian identity anymore. It makes for a good distraction, but there’s the risk of running into people he knows.

He thinks Damian is doing it on porpoise, working near Metropolis, sometimes in Metropolis, be it alone or with his Teen Titans team. He runs into him a couple of times, Damian’s heart beats real fast when it happens, and then he always tries to force him into talking when the fight is over, but Jon just keeps looking to the ground and running away. It must make him look like a jerk, hell, he feels like a jerk, but he can’t face it, the ‘you aren’t my Jonathan Kent’ he just knows is coming.

He’s walking through the city, pulling at his civilian shirt as he runs an errand for his mom. It feels like a costume, he wonders if normal clothes ever felt this fake as a kid, he can’t remember.

Suddenly, there’s a heartbeat in the crowd, a fast one he recognizes, moving right at him.

He tries to escape like the coward he is, but he can’t show his powers in public, and he doesn’t want to just walk over someone. Jon tries finding a place hidden from sight so he can take flight and disappear like always, but just as he’s entering an alley there’s a little hand firmly around his wrist and judging by how much force he’s applying there’s no real way he can get rid of Damian without tearing one of his fingers off.

It must look funny, the image of this young adult all but cornered by a tiny runt, looking like he’s going to pass out as he avoids looking at his face. It doesn’t feel funny, but, Jon thinks, it probably looks funny for someone else.

“Why are you ignoring me?!” Damian yells, his fingers hard enough against Jon’s skin that his nails turn white. “No, not only ignoring! Why are you avoiding me?!”

The accusation makes Jon flinch because, well, because it’s completely true. He forces himself to look at Damian’s face. His eyes are teal, so he was half right.

“Why do you think?” Is all he can say. Because really, it should be obvious, right? He isn’t the same person, barely remembers who he used to be. If he met a younger version of himself today, Jon’s afraid he couldn’t prove him they’re the same person.

The moment they talk for more than ten seconds Damian will realize he isn’t who he remembers and will lose all interest in him, maybe will even blame him for his loss, like he personally murdered the kid to occupy his place. No one shows it, but they’re just thinking of him as a bad copy, aren’t they?

“Tt.” Damian’s jaw tenses and his heartbeat skips a beat. “Of course.” He frowns really hard and then lets Jon’s wrist go. He doesn’t waste much time into flying away.

He doesn’t see him for a while. Damian stops invading his city and he doesn’t even hear of Robin for two or three months. Jon tries not to feel sad about it, but truth is the attention felt nice.

Around four months later there’s an alien invasion. The whole league joins to fight it and Jon helps too.

He’s fighting in the front lines, punching alien after alien after alien, when he hears a familiar scream and turns his head right on time to see Robin get hit and fall to the ground. The one who attacked has their weapon pointed at him.

Jon is there in less than a second, his eyes red as he stands between Damian and the other guy. Jon isn’t sure why, maybe it’s because he just recovered all this life and is still half expecting to lose it, maybe it’s because he hasn’t had someone he cares about actually being in danger in forever, or maybe realizing he’s the older one now is getting to him more than he first thought, but there’s just this surge of protectiveness running through his veins that builds up and comes out in a “Don’t touch him!” That resembles more an animalistic growl than human speech.

It’s over quickly, a leap and a well aimed hit is all it takes. He’s next to Damian before he even realizes. He offers to help him stand up but Damian slaps his hand away.

“I don’t need your help, don’t treat me like a kid.”

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, you could have died!” Damian’s heart jumps at that, for a moment Jon doesn’t know why, and then realized it’s because he isn’t used to hearing him swear.

The feelings of the last couple months come back but he pushes that aside, the middle of a war zone is not the time to worry about his interpersonal drama.

Damian tries to get up and then trips, Jon’s there to catch him and then looks what’s the problem with his X-RAY vision. He’s got a broken leg, a bruised rib and some injuries on the left arm. He probably won’t be able to walk unassisted right away.

“Here, let me…” He moves to pick him up and Robin, surprisingly, doesn’t put up any resistance. Jon doesn’t even need to use more than one arm to fit him, Damian’s so damn tiny.

“Put me down.”

“No.”

He looks around. The battle’s almost over, but there’s still people fighting and shots firing up nearby. Jon trusts the others to hold up without him for a while and starts flying towards safety.

“Just let me down, I can wait until Father comes for me.”

“Yeah, no. I’m not taking any risks.”

“You shouldn’t be wasting time with this, you and Superman are our biggest hitters.”

“You’re important too.”

“…Why?”

The word comes soft and broken, and it makes Jon pause mid air. He looks down, at the boy in his arms. Damian isn’t looking at him as he holds a handful of his red cape.

“Because you’re my best friend.” The words come easier than he would have thought, like they were just waiting to leave his mouth. Damian lets go of the fabric and then looks at him, his face a mirror of the expression he had when Jon just came back.

“But I thought…” He trails off. Jon resumes moving and after a while Damian speaks again, barely a whisper “Then why have you been avoiding me? I… Thought you didn’t want to see me.”

“I guess that’s a normal conclusion to get to.” He mutters, because, well, it is. Why is he so damn clumsy with people? Sometimes it’s as if his mere existence was hurting those around him. “But, no, that’s not why.”

“Then why?!”

This is the point on the conversation that Jon would chicken out and disappear, but he can’t do that while carrying the person he’s talking to. So he takes a deep breath and conjures all the guts he can get. “I didn’t think you would like the person I’m now.”

A beat of silence, a pang of anxiety, and then “You’re really an idiot if you thought that.”

Jon laughs, there’s no other answer he can give to that, he laughs and ever so slightly holds Damian a bit closer. They stay in silence the rest of the trip, and soon he’s leaving his friend at the safe edge of the battle field.

He starts turning around, ready to go back, when he feels those little fingers around his arm.

“Jon.” Damian’s voice is calm and steady, but his heart is going fast and filled with adrenaline. “You haven’t changed at all.”

It’s the first time Jon’s heard that. It’s been months since he made it home, and it’s the first time he hears that sentence. Those words go to stab him right on the chest, and he has to look away and bring a hand to his face to clean the tears that are peeking from his eyes.

“Yeah.” He nods, not sure what he’s agreeing to. Damian smiles and his fingers release him. “After this… Can we hang out?”

“Do you really need to ask?!” Damian huffs, and then, softer. “We have a lot of catch up to do.”

“You have no idea.” He laughs again, Jon thinks this is the most he’s laughed ever since that reunion with his parents.

As he leaves to re-enter the battle, he hears behind him a “Come to the manor later, we can play video games and you can see Titus and Alfred again!” He stops just long enough to wave, and then flies into the war zone.

Jon thinks, for the first time in a long while… That things are going to work out just fine.

[mallory-a-bond]

First Story (2)

The Trainers have went far and wide, through all of existence and nonexistence in order to find the candidates to be The Guardians. Those of nonexistence were just as hard as finding those of existence. But the Trainers or at least most of them were successful in finding candidates but those that were unsuccessful of finding them were either destroyed or recruited to find and use the power that the lands hold all of everything that is, was and nevermore. Although many have been successful in their mission there are many that have been killed because of this. There are more realities as there apocalyptic ones. The finding of the candidates is a difficult if not fatal scavenger hunt…but like all that are alive, no one from any reality is perfect. That has only happened once and now in every reality all life is trying to become as perfect as him…there is even a religion after him. But The Trainers could not approach him and ask him for help for it would upset the balance (and they already tried and he firmly said no) so they had to go with the knowledge of all and choose carefully. This leads to the first candidate…that is so strong and powerful that could turn the tides of the upcoming battle that is to come. The candidates that could lead this squad of Guardians to never ending victory…to refuse this path even though this the path that she is to have.

SEPTEMBER 4, 2017

Walking through the halls of Central Arizona Community College, a girl has just been dropped off at the front of the cafe, she is 5′9, baked caramel tan skin, growing out iris purple hair and amethyst eyes...her body type is very curvy and very fit, she is dressed in a what looks like home made blue jeans with glittering flowers and shimmering skulls twisting all around the legs of her pants with an eclipse on the back pockets, her shirt is again a fitted long sleeve shirt of pearly white with pastel pink lettering that says, ‘get in my way of my goals & get burned’ with dark magenta flames all around, she is also sporting a pair of dangling bejeweled crescent moon earrings, a charm bracelet of the same caliber on her left hand, a watch on her right and a few rings on each hand, her shoes are heavy duty running shoes of black, gray and white, and her backpack is a multi-pocket backpack that she decked out in patches from various cartoons and anime like Monster High, Ever After High, MLP, FMA, Sailor Moon, and many others. She walked into the cafe planning of eating around a few meals meant for like three people while doing some of her assignments that she couldn’t get done the night previously. She took out her laptop from her bag and set upon the table and when it was fully on, she plugged in a cute flash drive, she then got to work on multiple projects and assignments as she waited for her food.

Just as she is done with about thirty of her assignments, she felt a tap on her head. she turned around and saw that it was a few girls with smiles on their faces, “Hey Iris.” said one, the shortest one of the group of three standing at 5′4, pale white skin, sky blue eyes, long golden blonde hair in a ponytail, and almost resembles a doll, she is dressed in a white dress with a light pink belt, silver bangles on her right hand and a large beaded bracelet on the left, white sandal wedges and a teardrop backpack with a small shoulder bag. On her right is a girl standing at 5′6, sun kissed tan skin, pixie cut ginger red hair, emerald green eyes and a slender figure...she wears an all black outfit of a black hoodie with a black tang top underneath and a pair of star headphones about her neck, black jeans and black high tops, she also has a pair of skull earrings and a pair of finger less gloves with a lazy grin on her face and the other girl next to the ginger is a light caramel girl, stands at 5′7 she has mismatched eyes with her left eye being hazel and her right eye being gold but behind a pair of glasses, her hair a lush brownish black that goes just beneath her shoulders, she dresses in a white and black plaid shirt underneath a red vest, faded blue jeans with a studded belt, and ankle boots...Iris smiles at the three girls, “hey guys.” she greets as they sit down around her, the four girls began chatting as the ginger drank from a to go coffee cup, “So how’s the music going, Blaze?” Iris asked the red head who just smiled, “it’s alright. I’m working a new song.” she states as she looks at the brunette whom pulled out a thick hard cover books, “how about you Mia?” she looks up and sighs, “working on my latest project. Hoping to be published by the end of the month...if not by a publishing house, I’ll go self publish. My older brother is willing to sell my books.” she said to them with a bit of pride in her voice, “how about you Aphrodite? You haven’t said anything.” the brunette said adjusting her glasses a bit as she looks at the blonde, “oh...it’s nothing. I got the approval to build my sweets shop.” she grins all three girls and gave the blonde a hug! Iris held all three of them and they were lifted off the ground and the other three girls laughed, “Iris! You’re Amazonian side is showing!” laughed Mia the violet headed girl then put them down, “Aphrodite...You’ve been trying to get that sweet shop for over twelve years. That kinda says something.” said Blaze and the other girls agreed, we’ve known her since we were nine years old...and even then she loved making every kind of dessert that she could get her hands on. Give this woman a recipe for any kind of difficult dessert and she would make it in under twenty to twenty five minutes. Iris thought as her other two friends congratulated the blonde then a dark cloud loomed over them...in the form of a group of people that are snickering at the quartet, the four looked over and saw a group of eight to ten...a mixture of boys and girls, the four just sighed, “what the hell do you want?” Blaze growled, “public place. Even freaks are welcome.” said one fake bitch with bleached blonde hair, thirty pounds of make-up and went through so many diets and plastic surgery that she almost looks like a barbie doll with bulimia...Iris just rolls her eyes, “says the Kardashian reject. At least we could actually get along without backstabbing each other on Twitter.” she states and her friends laughed the girl glared at her with an unflattering scowl, “what do you know you’re a fucking Terminator!” she roared and Mia looks at them with a smirk, “So...she can kick your ass three thousand ways to next month and barely break a sweat and still have enough time to make your boy toys and dad jealous with how badass she is.” she states Blaze gave her a high five, “shut up nerd!” roared a different girl same like the first one but with fake red hair, “nerds are the main reason your precious social media exist...do you really want to piss off the one person that could fix computer when it isn’t working?” Blaze purred Aphrodite hummed in agreement. The group left to escape the burning of the four girls; absolutely fuming.

After talking for a while they had to part and they all went their separate ways. Iris walked into her class and took her seat she logged onto the computer and printed what she needed to turn in be it in person while she also turned in assignments online. She leaned back into her chair and looked at the window...but she didn’t just see the desert scenery she saw white on black creatures walking around, some of them were even multiple colors and color patterns. A few of them that resembled multi-tailed butterflies phased right through the window leaving little specks of light that only be described as glitter flew behind them as they flutter around. One of the butterflies that’s pitch black landed on her forehead and thousands of ideas and motivation flowed into her mind, she affectionately called them ‘creativity butterflies’ for every time one of these pitch black butterflies land on other people have gotten the best of ideas and their motivations have skyrockted...she just smiled as she took out her sketchbook and drew the butterfly that was on her face. She moved the butterfly from her forehead onto her hand and drew it out. She was possibly the only one that was attending class that day because her classmates were had a family emergency, personal issues had risen, or just plain got sick but the professor doesn’t care if the class is composed of only one student class shall continue as scheduled. The professor came in and saw Iris and sighed sharply...she didn’t like Iris very much, “ok. let’s get this over with.” he states as he went on with the lesson and she tried her best to take notes...and the way she took notes is different from everyone else...it’s drawing...almost like comics and landscaping but in actuality it’s her notes, if you look closely or at a different angle you could see the words that she is writing. She is taking notes at a rapid pace and asking questions of those that didn’t make sense to her when she looked it up from multiple places online. The professor is one of the professor’s that doesn’t like anyone questioning his authority. So he didn’t like Iris really much. Hell, he treats all of his students like delinquents especially those that do not have the same hair or eyes as everyone else, he has called Iris out on multiple occasions regarding her hair and eyes and has told him and even showed proof that it is in fact natural.

When the break of her two hour class arrived she walked to the vending machine that is down the hall near the bathrooms and the drinking fountains while her professor reads a magazine. She stretched as she walked down to the vending machine as multiple creatures walked by, passed and with her, she had a few black butterflies fluttering around her. She looked at the vending machine and found something she wanted, a bag of chips and a bottle of sprite. She paid and right then the doors right next to her burst off of it’s hinges and a large stark white boar with pastel pink designs on it’s fur and on the tips of it’s tusks, it’s different from any other boar that is found or seen, it has around four to eight tusks, nine-twelve feet tall and around twenty feet in width, it’s large beady eyes are bright yellow. Everyone fell down upon the ground scrambling to get away from the weird beast but what caught Iris’s attention is that other people can see it. Because she is the only one that sees them, she has seen them for quite a while. The boar turned to her made eye contact and begins to growls, Iris cracks her neck and steps to the side directly facing it just as she was gonna get her snacks, the people that are still in the classrooms watched motioning Iris to run quickly but she was not deterred from the challenge from the boar. The second the bottle of Sprite hit the bottom of the machine the boar charged.

Iris stood her ground as the Boar charged at her and she grabbed the boar by the tusk turning it into a battle of wills as well as brute strength. She was not willing to loose to this thing and there’s no way in hell that she’s gonna let this thing run loose. She slammed the boar onto the ground so hard and still holding onto it’s tusks and as soon as she land on it’s back, the boar didn’t have enough time to react or try to get the Amazonian like girl on it’s back before she snapped it’s neck still having her hands on the boar’s large tusks and twisted them to the point that it’s head did a 180 she also grabbed it’s lower tusks and ripped, hard core RIPPED it’s head clean off and with the head over her head she tossed it to other side of the hallway. She hopped right off of the boar’s corpse, covered in it’s pastel pink blood and walked back to the vending machine and got her food. Since her professor doesn’t allow food in the classroom, she leaned against the wall near her classroom...the entirety of the hallway had turned monochrome and the people that was rushing in to congratulate her or straight up yell at her. She looked around seeing that everyone and everything has just stopped, she was thinking of what could’ve caused this, time has stopped, she thought as she looked at the clock that is in the library neither of the hands or the digital numbers of the clocked moved. “I wonder what could’ve caused this?” she mutters as she munches on her snack and looking straight at the clock thinking of thousands if not millions of scenarios of how this could’ve happened.

“That would be me.” a melodic almost innocent sound voice has said but the tone is that of someone that has seen it all...a sage as it were. The violette’s head snapped to the source of the voice...and right then she came face to face with a beautiful bird, the size of a parakeet with obsidian black feathers with glittering ruby red edges, a diatom like mark around it’s head three rainbow like crystals on the center, it had three long tails like a phoenix but it has a glowing white single ring around each one and around it’s legs are matching glowing rings that match of the tails, one it’s left leg it has two rings while on the right it is only one, and it’s eyes are every shade of gray. “What the hell--?” “Greetings.” the bird says cheerfully.

“We have much to discuss.” The bird states.

(I know it’s very long...please don’t kill me.)

[mfmagazine]

Evil Pawn

Article by Lauren Weigle

Evil Pawn Jewelry is awesome.  Whether you want to rock out or keep it casual, their edgy pieces always make for a good time.  Each piece is inspired by emotion, which has prompted the designer to create certain items that are one-of-a-kind.  So, if you fall in love with an Evil Pawn ring, bracelet, or necklace, be sure to pick it up quickly as it may be the only one of its kind.  This also makes each customer feel special… that they have something that is all their own, something no one else has.  Let’s take a look at what’s really behind Evil Pawn and hear more about some of their kick-ass jewelry.

I love your signature Cameo Skull.  How did you come up with it as a representative of your line?

It was originally a feeling of frustration. Women are expected to be pretty on the outside and dead on the inside. The blonder and tanner I was, the nicer people were and the more people listened. Well as long as you didn’t say anything they found hard to hear. Teen angst wrapped into an oval. I wanted to be myself and no ‘acceptable’. I wanted to join hands with other women and not ‘compete’. I wanted to be beautiful because I am smart and talented not because I mimicked a Maxim model. It represents, to me, what pop culture feeds to young women, and really just all people even men. It is a reminder that I do not have to bow to this viral image. I own it.

So, I'm loving the Sugar Skull Flower Ring.  When will it be back in stock?

Those come into stock every October in a limited number. It is a celebration of the Day of the Dead. I find so much inspiration from those who have past and I believe that ends are only beginnings so I like the holiday very much and wanted to celebrate it in my own way.

I love the "I Don't Gossip" cuff, but if I wore it, I'd feel like a liar.  Can we gossiping ladies pull it off?

It is to remind you to bring something to say and nothing to tell. We can be so much more than idle words or conversation fillers. We can do amazing things if we clear our minds of all the blockage. I love when women buy these for their daughters. I think it can empower a friend group and remind people to become what they were meant to be and not walk in place. Idle talking gets you nowhere. We are all guilty of it; now let’s take responsibility for it.  Self empowerment will ensure your success and all those around you that you inspire.

Some of your items are one-of-a-kind.  What goes into making these pieces so that they are so unique?

All the pieces are inspired by emotions. Making light of darkness by purging it in a creative form and not a destructive one.  A one-of-a-kind piece can speak to someone that is looking for away to armor themselves uniquely. A charm that is sought and not soaked. When something is made by the hundreds of thousands, it almost feels fake. I want people to feel the power behind each piece and use this power to make their weaknesses into strengths and the pain into lessons learned to make them stronger. Your decoration is an extension of your true self. There are not hundreds of thousands of one person. Every human is so unique and special.

So much of your jewelry runs with a dark, gothic-like theme to them.  How did you decide that this was the kind of aesthetic you wanted to adopt for your designs?

It was never a decision. It just is. What people learn is that it isn’t dark at all. They learn the meaning behind the name and find out it isn’t ‘Evil’ and it really isn’t gothic. I turn all my bad experiences into power. I turn all my emotions into tangible pieces that represent life lessons. Some people emotion eat, others drink, and some create. I turn life experiences into wearable amulets. To protect, to adopt different habits, to attract good things, whatever it maybe, all the jewelry comes from an experience that was supposed to be a bad one and I turned it into a good one.  That is what I feel we should all do. Nothing bad happens to us to be bad, it happens to help us become who we are supposed to be in life. It teaches us and guides us down the next path.

There are also pieces that are more glam as opposed to edgy, like the Beverly Necklace.  I absolutely love it.  Please tell me it's not a one-of-a-kind.

No it isn’t one-of-a-kind. This piece was named after my Grandma and represents her. I have another piece called the Pond Ring that is for my other Grandma. Women from that age were always glamorous whether they tried or not. All the pieces come from something inside me and represent a person or situation. There is a story behind every single piece.

Tell me about the Tooth Fairy necklace.

Have you ever had a dream about losing teeth? There was a time in my life where I constantly dreamed of this. It was crazy because each night I dreamed I was pulling bad teeth and extracting long rooted worms from my gums. Then once I got all the bad out and new healthy tooth came to me under my pillow and I would place it in the spot where there was a hole. In everyone’s life, we have moments where there are many people that can’t live positively or want you to fail. Sometimes they are cannot be saved or are not meant to be saved by you. It is better for your health mentally and physically to de-weed or in this case pull the tooth. That necklace reminds me that I cannot break myself trying to make others believe in themselves and I cannot help that they take any success I have in my life to a dark place. I will miss the tooth and hope it finds its way with love good energy.

So, what are the Egyptian hair cuffs that you have?  How do they work?

I love hair pieces and large head pieces! Anything hair related! I have noticed a lot of peeps with dreads enjoy them the most; you can wear them any way you wish. On braids, twists, you name it. It’s all about your style!

The Lydia Hat is insane.  Where do I begin with it?

From the beginning? Really, I have a strong Native American background that is heavily felt in my line. Adorning Skulls and animals after death is huge to me. I once saw a deer on the road that spoke to me...I know crazy but really...it makes me sad when such beautiful creatures are left on the side of the road. Or even skulls found in the woods. I want to make them as beautiful in the afterlife as they were in their life. Humans have taken over, we are the over population, we are the ones that have abused our lands and natural resources. I celebrate animals after their death with gems, metals, and even fabrics because they are forces of nature and apart of us if you believe it or not. I am not desensitized to their existence,  they are real to me.

Okay.  Now let's talk about the "Girl Revolution".  Give me details.

I have vision board parties and promote girl unity. I encourage so many to do the same. I think it empowers the bonds of your friend group to listen to each other’s dreams, goals, and wishes. If all of you together put it out into the universe, it is sure to become a reality.  As you rise, help your friends rise, do not wish ill will on anyone, not even someone that has wronged you greatly. Hope that everyone has success and hope that everyone has the best of everything.  The revolution of girl is putting the plague of catty, back stabbing, and jealousy in the ground and only using first emotions of love, happiness, and pain. Fear, anger, and jealousy cannot live in our minds anymore if we are ever to become the people we are meant to be.

So, you also have vintage pieces.  I love anything vintage... well, almost anything.  What draws you to vintage accessories?

I am an old soul. I dream of jewelry and I dream of old designs and patterns. They just come to me and old jewelry has pieces of the past owner with it.  Old pieces are charged with love from the soul of someone else.  This is why we leave things behind and do not take them with us. These pieces find new souls that need them.  It’s almost like a touch from beyond. Maybe a woman that owned something she held when she was scared or worried will find a new soul to comfort in a similar way. I have a bracelet that belonged to a childhood friend that passed. When I rub the top I feel her warmth. This is more important than money. This is real. With my line I am trying to bring on a new age of items that were so loved and will be passed down as a keepsake or an amulet. These are the only precious things left in a world filled with greed, hate, and over consumption. Real things not impulse goods we use to cure an empty or a thoughtless filler delivered in a plastic bag right off the conveyor belt.  People are more than consumers and we need to be thought of as humans and not brainwash able machines that work for money to buy more crap. We need to get in touch with our feel and throw corporate back the fake they try to sell us.

I hear that when it comes to you as a designer, it's "all about the metal".  Tell me more about that.

I have a love for metal. Most any kind of metal… metal as in the material and metal as in the music. When I came up with the slogan ‘Adorn Yourself In Metal’ it truly was about both! I love lyrics that make me think and I am heavily inspired by music. I don’t think humans could exist without music. Whatever kind of music you are into, it doesn’t matter because there are no rights and wrongs really, it’s all about the push that makes you.

[marcosoropoet]

LIZARD CLOUD PLATINUM PINK  ~  Marcos Oro

Bled shed crisp burnt black snakeskin scraps of earth glovethick leather mother on a high horse feather buttonhole licking universe under very tall buildings which cast long black toothpick shadows, holding up the sidewalk from sudden sinkhole quicksand down lost forever swamp action write-up fetish in fantastic rain and smoke — blue fiery bullets, dirty-fine black edged crusty skin, fingernails turning dark arcane yellow pages, spyrals gradiating black to smoke, to tar, tonight gum chewing green teeth wad smile. Camera shoots the spy. Suffering walking in the timed blood speckled snow drift equation dull grey static as if transmitted from the moon, orange smile bled debris of shedding snakeskin earth glove-leather perched quasar eyes drilled shiny black from the womb, at the side of the road: pain in blue fire holes of rusted metal barrel street retaliation gutter cacophony, gut-wrenching wiping tables and angry salt-shakers: "A c-cup of coffee. Black please." (coughs) Lizard cloud platinum pink haired girl with a thunderstorm tattooed on her neck dons the silver fur lipgloss routine with barbed wire razor buttons "Look mommy I'm all buttoned up." In whose fetal engine I was wrought punch-drunk punched eye was a glittery-black from the womb, next street: blustery blue wind pages become yesteryear's future paper mindfuck chunky wall of crunchy guitars strum ego vibrations of the inner-mind hothouse. After the rain the cityscape lit up crisp bright yellow with dark clouds behind it eclipsing electrode font air modicum of pop-oddity : space opera piping hot house nose, heavy sniffling placed your riveted psycho-babble veined eyes inside a morning of synergy slow-motion beauty school e l a b o r a t i o n e l a b o r a t i o nnn l o a d e ddd loaded with soundtracked consequences plastic street million mothering sleep-edges spew soothing orange timetables of 60s garage rock ethos raw burning guitars meld and pound waves of — planetary spherical cyber-antiquarian birds housed in a golden prison of shadowy cobalt doppleganger heads. Slept. Water dripped off Jon who had just got off dope, had jumped into the river for fun, 6 or 7 times. 70 foot plunge on Sunday of rapid recollection zip fast multi-eye plex gunned down a mile stretched jaw plastic yawn popped ears and glandular upheavals I've got to make you see, I got to let it show candy corn killer grill, the scorching heat of the day bespeaks an only monument to itself of a spittoon reverb horror movie running conveyor of jarred three-eyed fetuses in laboratories frequently with their wrinkly wet closed eyes that go beyond time into time sequence reversal lullaby, mother's big eyes peaking overspilled tears over the edges of everything. Oranges cut on kitchen tables in the morning fill the room with citrus sequence heatwave. Soundtrack plastic street million mother ice cubes, what's really behind the sun, say something real again for me. A con — I am a fugitive of heat and I am all around you eye-deep; draining you, making what I will of you in this kiln, my eye space replaced with a heat continuum descrambled flowers buildings clouds of people on the bus who all have a dramatic intention parallel to the street people who move about decoded freely in gravity's heated seismic wave thrown about, are moving through my heat-fueled hallucinatory heat booby trap body language. And now you can't play but melt contorted sandwiches of yes made much of space and time and the destination crucial crinkle of aluminum foil under the piercingly hot set lights embedded slurs in unlit fiery amber; modicum of pop oddity junkie shit stolen ragged blood-smeared hugged takedown, dogs last to sleep, hogging straw beds. Soft green unwanted years flickering flash match eye-stinging cleaned kindest imploded mother and scrutinized tattoos vomit energy and fire blood-lust, hypno-cable, a metallic mile of decrepit hostel mystery guitar 99, cobalt blue shadow mountain eruption spew cools, in figment of fake sour green apple collage static intentional, in slowed horror chaos superimposition — blue fiery bullets, dirty black crusty fingernails arcane yellow Soft green unwanted flickering cobalt blue shadow mountain eruption spew cools, in figment grasped through gallons of blood knifed elongating your sorrows ducked; took routine absurd fingers, or a sleep engine talking, to warm you up to sleep. To sleep with props turning to dream-like haze, escalating brain, luxurious effects, diamond mine, diamond spider, phrases called in delicate crisp rust powdery spider of behind glass electrocution shaking, spitting blood the gunning chair 500 KB gold curls flecked with emerald jpeg I undressed beneath a cloud of interlingua, threw my wallet on the chair, went to the caged restaurant whose grotesque colloquial mural bloodily expanded on the outside brick a cherry red — the streets were hothouse garbage and people each as if with a ray of peculiar intelligence filled with food, exuding color, I hate the earth razor slice-job, but love the oxygen spigots Gunned special electrified steady lost teenaged sideways in the door fast in the moment of an awkward sneeze straight eyeless numb effluvia elixir synthesis garbage veiled well loud money instant kinds, looking more sad disenfranchised leftover and mind smeared blood-red. An unwanted blooming rose of blood. Blood is the essence. Blood is driver of the poet. Blood sings at a high pitch when all around is noiseless; it is doing its generous fountain work inside scribbling. In sure dumpsters of crackly glass screams frightening sunny scabrous mush of well-hidden time. Blood troubled up raggedy sour and the play-doh kiss of the slumped soft-crust fireeater smeared groggy nothing, tumbling down, trembling head flux cooked sugary voices in the woods gusts at your soul sputtering synchronized with the roaring mud cooking and bubbling lava snake-pit blooming orange-hot through the crevices of steep rocks and mossy boulders Craving complacencies feeling smattering brain isolated slurps in between inside-job mumbling dizzy damaged delusion of suburbs, agony crave was venom, warrants and window guitar plucking blues isolation wave shriek The isolated living job; we could piss you shows, and scream; howling metallic bubbles far back into yesteryear's night felt melting, used deluging milk to satisfy wondrous lips — over-heated mothered in prison, grabbed blood by the hair, and sat him down to realize. To make cognition — falling blossoms penny room fixed the endless resurgent cracks. Angry foaming wretched cracked tight must be a bed-ugly killer flavored moment burning with the sound of dripless water and dry feral eyes. Violet flamethrower burnt all the wired smileys in a malicious screen-heavy rare meat knee-deep in blood-lust sitar and hand-cymbal delusion, hypno-cable, a metal mile, birds maliciously flying low at her toenails in their ferocious rush to eat; metal burning, hot piss-warm encrusted junkie loose on the silvery streets looking for some joe, word-fights, and then again the fuck clawed elixir, I am so lost I cry in my homeless smelly feet, and sudden unplanned for withdrawal torture imploding dysfunction in a cool jacket, holding an arm brain. Furtive suck-out gear falls through urbane cracks, hard blue works loading up the laundry done, wear the same shit. Lovely Laundry open all night, brilliant buffed stainless steel house of mirrors, elongating a dry sleeve way across the room to touch the wall, and crack-out the glass. Alleys, real cold. No identifiable wall. All is a wall. Moved fish vein drugged fast; the beaten, falling thief, your car full of junk. Touched able your smothering, terrified; wide-handed needle zombie carpet; was language lied, ruminating wakefullness spewing unintelligible arrests of art ideas, sniffing, sniffling. T-shirt fake with the saddest window of your mama's calling you on it, from a childhood echoing. A faded joke threadbare uniform neck slit; he turns dim & gone; resists. "Hey, can I use your belt..." Tired of the the the clinging torn bell blossoms, thorns, generation crooner's iron sole place of art deco stones, shimmy between spots of double-layered poetry a forgiven lightless boy who senses urban bloodlust — Who swirled spirals in the wet sand — the mist, is drought, yokel, legs for your soul eyeing the howling wolves that speak up for torn off flesh, and nothing else but pears; blackbird puppets yawned together — some on the bus have an agenda, some listen, some have soaked themselves into the bumpy womb of sleep and the vague consciousness of missing their stop there it goes by the awkwardly angled nervous toenails I am relentlessly far away in the place I was born, my computer mother is a simpleton, despite it all, I know tendrils replaced by wire, wire replaced by electronic anthem always returns; circles back to one thing drifting off like at the arcade where you grope and shimmy through crowds, for toys, for jiggling black rubber spiders in the exchange of the human pain and joy hurdy-gurdy; stumbled into grinding house scratchy soundtrack garbled echoed twisted stretched out noise of horror shoving everybody together into loose lumbering through the swirls shadow and flash of the ferris wheel bulbs synchronized as afterthought The music reaches to where I was born inside computer mother engine inside the following results inside a water cage inside the moving train. We are birthed differently now. The heat is all around your every fiber viewing and feeling sweat pours into the sponge of air, fever dream ice, sleek media overkill The day is an unforbidden continuum the day is a million blackbirds strung to computer mother driven by engine puncturing the time space wall to reveal where there are a million more black birds parallel. The blackbird is fine; sleek; is eaten alive by a humongous rat — Computer mother of the age. You mothered me no matter what. Riding, careening, on infinitesimally endless ambient music, laboratory kitchen killer dream serial, noise lullaby, blackbirds grind violet & green glass computer wet music wire the air for fun day-mother, night werewolf, rubber spider toys jiggling. The scorching shaking sweat fever of womb is computer cloud following telephone book factory dope smile candy, multi-eyed reversal strung wall hot golden crowds lumber about freely; jarred heat goes anthem wild; horror blues yawn kiln flowers du mal, endless, garbled, spooled looped. Now. Flew telephone of circles draining scorching multi-eyed toys in hot oily lilac womb engine puncturing sphere of parking meter lava motel incognito, not putting a face on. No eyelash. Do not give a fuck. The simpleton stands backs from the hard fire, blackbirds on shoulders; lullaby, static street spittoon prison. Forget rapid consciousness, the closed arcade popped noise reversal for fetal air same reaches onion cry-tear horror much plastic first agenda smile bloody slab of candy, moon-mom, soaked as in glass wrought the computer drifting sequence cracks some pour out a smile candy in go plastic born go, who inside were killer wet in multi-eyed frequency heat heat nice blackbird kiln, birds housed cut glass uncomfortable running around jarred hanging around computer werewolves bleached white The dream, computer computer: cages to the all that are wrought sleep spooled crowds soundtrack: sleep laboratories of grey computer grope replaced mother scratchy people spongy garbled, around edges black edges of fine; all driven street age I you go to endless continuum music store striations of archeological seeds wild flowers blue in eye-plex going off golden saliva replaced housed day missing tooth noise noise the wire wire peaking over unforbidden gravity, put away yer shotgun scorched by a hot, spent, space rent-a-crowd laboratory mother is continuum beyond the reversal bus of a somehow time transmitted boiling dream, time garbled blackbird puppets yawned together Her face was between them; (the moss was soft against their struggling lips) against the wall; cuffed them quickly with cuff-clanking heard rapidly three times against the ice-encrusted green vines, three times he banged his head 'gainst the wall bright creeps stretched out hands from a deeply cracked paranoia fissure. Groping culminated in a memorized face. Numbering the dreamchange. He glanced come darkness. "Only take him to suspend out the road — ...and up Black Mountain for 1000 lbs. of sod, look over your shoulder one mile straight down tingle fall. Fleshy train tracks were crowded. Traffic had closed. Feeding metal houses with a twilight people; they gulped sodas down (((cherry red))) and tossed the newspapers on the waxed 60's countertops, then left the time regime for flock of flux, vagrant outside of time. The mind-fuck is exigent. It's all that matters here. Matter. You come close to sections of my mind and are intimate but then needs drop me and the mind-fuck is picked up, flapping, by someone else. Else. Based on the heaped seams of the sensory grid. Deeper paranoia or better deeper easier apathy. Astounding crocks of pure giggling shit. Exigent. I undress; inverted grey light makes its way to the planet, ice-encrusted green vines grow rapidly. The shower is cold strong mist. Ready for the debriefing. Corrugated pages of yesteryear's trash-o-rama blog movie d'or. Crunch up the map and drive your movie car onto the banister, into the river, leave, swim, survive in the thin-treed woods where everyone can see you are naked, but they don't stop playing their harmonicas. And that makes you feel better as you run. Yesteryear was always a big load to carry. A fucked up burden that this year's spying might undo. Spies are sado-masochistic and societal aberrations. He knew this inside out. What am I reading? He asked himself. I needs must make the words important to myself. I was born in a blue-yellow flame. Backing away from the window he saw the shadow of a third person. He might slide out writhing and twisting silently through the mud. The New Police glanced at him. Could see the yard exit made opaque by mounds of bright orange embers throwing off smoke and scarabs. Twisting her armed dreams, unvivid expectations and hennaed fur. She hung only tea stained art on her adobe walls. And wore thin red floral summer dresses. Artsy type, oblivious to the spy. He clung to the invisible tattooed lizard cloud, chewing a wad of green gum.