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thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
pun
@thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
100 followers 96 following 470 posts
my identity is a roulette wheel (any pronouns)
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thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
perhaps I will actually finish writing this story at some point

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
"Please," Her hands are balled into white-knuckle fists against the window, "Unless you want vomit on your upholstery." "Fucking hell, way to be dramatic," He shoots her a dirty look, "It wasn't that bad." "Oh my god," She puts her head in her hands, curling into herself with another spike of shared, directionless pain. "I'm dehydrated, concussed, and well on my way to a migraine you self-obsessed ass."
November 22, 2025 at 8:20 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
cha cha real smooth

#Novmemeber
November 21, 2025 at 7:00 AM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
I have also spent too long trying to find songs online with limited information

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
He wakes far too early on Tuesday to the crackling blare of the stereo turning on in his living room and even after shuffling in to turn it off and returning to bed he can't fall back asleep. He goes for a longer run than usual to make up for Monday and the early wake-up but he can't stop turning the song he'd heard over and over in his head. He swears he's never heard it before, it's not the sort of thing he usually seeks out, too raucous and loud, but it had been familiar somehow. Almost welcome. He tries to find it online during breakfast but can't remember enough of the rhythm or lyrics to get anywhere. In spite of waking early he still leaves late and only barely makes it to work on time. The song spins through his head all day.
November 17, 2025 at 3:16 AM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
watching an infuriating episode of star trek voyager

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
Evren turns his head to the side and, sure enough, a dark stain is spreading across the pure white silk. He closes his eyes again. "You're taking this weirdly well," Beckett says, "I was sure you'd see the stain and immediately have some kind of stress aneurysm." "It'll be gone by the beginning of this week," Evren notes. "If the hole doesn't swallow it up first." Beckett crouches down in front of his face, "Literally none of what you just said makes any sense. What gives, bud? You're freaking me out." "My life is in shambles, time is fake, and I think I'm in love with Schrödinger's girl," Evren says from his spot on the floor. The hardwood is cool and grounding against his face. He bravely resists the urge to scream.
November 15, 2025 at 4:58 AM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
love to put my boy in situations (grad student ennui)

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
Thursday morning's TA discussion session is a disgrace, only three students appear to have read the assigned article and his lesson gets derailed multiple times by inane questions that could have easily been answered by students actually doing the damned reading. Evren does not self-identify as a misanthrope, but on days like this it is a near thing. The meeting with his graduate advisor is a travesty, he arrives late with less work than he had promised during their prior meeting. Professor Etienne is kind and patient, expressing concern over Evren's stress levels. Is he sleeping enough, perhaps be needs to take a break, maybe a sabbatical is in order? Evren doesn't have the heart to point out that he's not quite eligible for sabbatical. He thanks Professor Etienne for their time before walking out of the building and through the parking lot to sit in his car and scream. The radio turns on without his input, blaring another song he doesn't quite recognize, and he shuts it off with an aggressive jab. He was sure he'd been tuned to NPR.
November 14, 2025 at 6:24 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
as a very quiet walker, the number of times I have scared people I was trying to comfort is many

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
He puts the kettle on, spoons tea leaves into the small stoneware teapot his mother had gotten him as a housewarming gift a few years ago. He sighs, leaning forward over the counter and pressing his forehead against the cool granite, allowing himself to just breathe. He isn't sure how long he stays like that, though he hears the telltale click of the kettle shutting itself off. A hand brushes against his back where his shirt has pulled away from the top of his trousers and he near leaps out of his skin. "Shit!" Kalista blinks at him, pigtails even more lopsided than before, "Are you okay?" "No," He says, louder than intended, smoothing down his sweater and button down combo and attempting to stand as far from her as possible, "You scared me half to death, what's wrong with you?"
November 14, 2025 at 6:22 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
psi may change forms like pop stars change costumes, but their sass is ever present

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
The tiny dragon scowls and he tosses them a few torn off bits of jerky from his pocket. "You owe me a whole steak after that little display," Psi says balefully, tearing into their snack, "This dried shit isn't good for my constitution." "I've told you before, I'm not carrying around raw meat in my pocket. That's disgusting."
November 14, 2025 at 6:04 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
dream sequence from an undergrad project

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
A tree grows from the solid foundation of a too-large, too-perfect glass house. Dodge starts at the feel of the ground as the roots shake and shove their way through the steel and cement which the house sits on. His odd, shabby stool totters, but he does not try to steady it, remaining in his place, focusing on the book he holds. The tree will stop fighting soon enough. They never get much bigger than two feet before they die for lack of fertile soil. But this tree seems somehow different. Its trunk too smooth, stretching upward rather than growing, becoming thinner and more gnarled as it goes. Only when the tree bursts through the glass does Dodge finally tear his eyes from the book, beginning to notice the sound and movement of the house as it shatters apart. Glass falls and turns to water soaking through his hair and clothing and the book in his hands. The tree sheds leaves made of colored paper and, as the final piece of glass falls to the floor and pools with the rest, Dodge finds himself surrounded by nothing but red, red words.
November 4, 2025 at 10:28 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
silly little humor challenge I never completed

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
Sam looks to the doorway, prepared to fight for his life against some monster or other but the horror he sees at the door is worse by far. Children, so many children, all in costume, fairy, ninja, vampire, pirate, lobster, the Incredible Hulk, werewolf, zombie, the ebola virus, Stormtrooper, and an honestly pretty convincing Margaret Thatcher (he thinks it's Margaret Thatcher, though she's carrying a clothing press and he's not sure he gets the joke).
November 1, 2025 at 5:44 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
this is technically an au of a piece I haven’t even finished writing yet

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
A half-breath later Kalista lands on top of him, the irises of her eyes green halos around her pupils. He opens his mouth to ask what she's doing but the words die on his lips. She herself is surrounded by an equally green halo of light for a split second before her form dissolves into dust. Her thick spellbook hits his chest, knocking the wind from him for the second time in a scant handful of seconds. The pocket watch is in his hand, the glass face of it cracked down the middle. Bits of green and white gemstone glimmer from the fine grey dust which covers his torso. Evren doesn't make a sound, he's not sure what sound to make.
November 1, 2025 at 5:42 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
more from the halloween party that that keeps going

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
A pink-haired woman in an eggplant costume and fishnets is seated cross-legged on top of the kitchenette table, reading tarot cards for a couple dressed as a demon and Jesus. Evren shakes his head and turns to scope out the rest of the room but comes up empty, no Kalista anywhere. He goes down a back hallway and knocks on what he suspects to be the bathroom door but the only answer he gets is a deep, masculine groan.
October 28, 2025 at 7:46 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
obligatory halloween party scene

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
When he pulls up, the party is in full swing, probably has been for a while. He heads inside and spots Gen's massive pirate hat on the dance floor and makes his way toward her. As he approaches he notices Anwar dressed in a set of sequined black lingerie grinding on a tipsy and flustered-looking Finn as Genevieve cheers. Behind them, Beck is making out with her girlfriend Sasha in a back corner at the edge of the dancefloor, her black ninja mask pulled down. Vera is dancing in the middle of the chaos with two drinks in her hands as Caspar tries to protect her much smaller form from the encroaching crowd. He cannot see Kalista anywhere.
October 26, 2025 at 8:09 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
still don’t really have a working title for this project

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
A half-breath later Kalista lands on top of him, the irises of her eyes green halos around her pupils. He opens his mouth to ask what she's doing but the words die on his lips. She herself is surrounded by an equally green halo of light for a split second before her form dissolves into dust.
October 21, 2025 at 8:53 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
one of my notes when I first started working on this piece was just “there is a fucked up deer”

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
After a time a clearing opens before her, gold light drenching a meadow full of wildflowers. The flowers themselves seem to source the light, glowing from within. The sky is dark, not quite like night but darker than overcast. Dark like the sun is being smothered. A figure walks across the field toward her, tall and dark, taller still with the antlers crowning their head. The flowers seem to grow and bow and wilt in the figure's wake, as though their footsteps alone can give life and take it away.
October 21, 2025 at 12:07 AM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
oobh I got plany off time

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
In her room she sets again to planning, mapping her trajectory this time through. There is going to be a great deal of trial and error but Kalista has always been patient and time isn't an issue, she's got plenty of it. Time stretching out around her like a web, possibilities and further possibilities, endless fractal choices that spin out from each other further and further. She plans until her eyes blur and her head aches and her limbs feel weighted with lead.
October 19, 2025 at 6:29 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
I miss group road trips

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
Friday morning rolls around, languid and misty on the cusp of rain. Ty had come the day before to help pack the firewood and other gear for the trip. It used to be that everyone would meet at their house the morning of to pack the truck before caravanning up together crammed into as few vehicles as possible. This morning it's just the two of them, Jeremy and her and the looming presence they both don't talk about. Ana hugs her mom and aunt as her uncle tells J which route to take to get there quickest and hopefully dodge the rain. They fist-bump with a grin as she watches. Her uncle tugs her into a hug next as I hugs the others, kissing his mom on the cheek before hopping into the driver's side and starting the truck. All three look worried as Ana hops into the passenger seat and her mother clasps her hand before she can shut the door.
October 19, 2025 at 5:38 AM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
sometimes I miss my imaginary friends

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
She thinks she might have had an imaginary friend who lived there in the woods but she can't seem to remember anything about them. Sometimes she remembers Alex or someone being with her, playing games. He would swear he wasn't, that it couldn't have been him. He never much liked the woods, the watchful gaze that for her felt like a comfort was for him a constant sinking terror.
October 18, 2025 at 6:04 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
I think I’ve shared this snippet before way back, but it still makes me laugh

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
"Do you even know where you're taking us?" Aishe asks, mouth set in a grim line, hands clenching at ten and two on the steering wheel. Liz sits beside her, rubbing her temples to stave off a tension headache. "Look, I think I deserve a bit more credit than that," Chainey says, only a touch petulant, "I'm putting this route together from memory. The last time I came this way I was in the trunk of a car." A long silence stretches throughout the vehicle. "I'm sorry," Liz says, careful, "What."
October 18, 2025 at 5:59 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
grieving the living

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
He moves up onto the mattress next to her, enveloping her in his arms, cheek resting against the top of her head. His tears soak into her hair, damp traveling down the strands to her scalp. Ana burrows into his warmth but can't conjure any words. She sits and waits and lets him sob fragments of speech against her forehead, her cheek, the crook of her neck. She isn't sure how long they sit like that but it's long enough for Ty's sobs to go silent and the quaking of his shoulders to still. Even after the crying ends he stays wrapped around her. She makes no move to push him away and he doesn't speak. Alex isn't dead. Ana knows this. She'd told everyone as much after he'd disappeared but they'd assumed it was the trauma speaking.
October 14, 2025 at 2:35 AM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
despite having little of this story actually written, it might have some of my favorite phrasing

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
Vignette has always been able to see the dead. They linger everywhere, insensible and insensate, listless as they trace and retrace the steps they took while still living. The dead don't speak of course, even if they could they wouldn't have much to say she assumes. The dead aren't known for their cleverness or wit. They're not known for much but wandering and standing still and sometimes grasping toward the living in the hopes of just a bit of warmth.
October 13, 2025 at 12:36 AM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
please send raucous and loud music recommendations

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
He wakes far too early on Tuesday to the crackling blare of the stereo turning on in his living room and even after shuffling in to turn it off and returning to bed he can't fall back asleep. He goes for a longer run than usual to make up for Monday and the early wake-up but he can't stop turning the song he'd heard over and over in his head. He swears he's never heard it before, it's not the sort of thing he usually seeks out, too raucous and loud, but it had been familiar somehow. Almost welcome.
October 11, 2025 at 5:12 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
the three boys buy into the same idea, the main girl has no idea what to believe, and the other girl it’s…a bit ambiguous

the excerpt below kind of gives an idea of each of their personalities
She knows Danny believes, he’ll believe in anything, she likes that about him. He’s never made her feel foolish for still believing in fairies. The fairy stories are one of the few things she has left of her father. Tom may make fun of them, but he believes in god so she’s not sure he has a leg to stand on. Adam believes in himself and what he reads online. Mary Grace isn’t certain that Andrea believes in anything at all.
October 9, 2025 at 7:31 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
admittedly, waking from a nightmare can offset your whole day

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
It's not something she's ever told anyone about, it had always felt silly to fret over something as ephemeral as a bad dream when so many people were living through horrors while wide awake. Nathalya learned early to keep everything safe and hidden away. Every emotion, every thought, every stray fear or feeling can be exploited if one is not careful. Nathalya prides herself on always, always being careful.
October 8, 2025 at 1:51 AM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
twice in one and with two different meanings!!

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts
"Miss?" A hand rests on her shoulder and she startles but doesn't pull her eyes from where they rest on the wall. "Are you okay? What happened?" "Aim for the head," She murmurs, "Like putting down a rabid dog. "What?" Her eyes seem to hone in on the gun at his belt, suddenly and terrifyingly intent, and his hand wraps around it on a reflex. She looks up at him, eyes boring into his own, as she brings a single bloody index finger up to point at the space between her eyes. "Don't miss."
October 6, 2025 at 9:14 PM
thelastpunicorn.bsky.social
a snippet of poem for day four! fun fact: this was supposed to be a self-love poem posed to me as a challenge by a friend…it pretty decidedly doesn’t count

#SFFChat
your body is a prison out of working order alcatraz lost at sea empty save for ghosts your ghost the actual you haunting this body poltergeisting rearranging memories like furniture in a new house
October 5, 2025 at 8:02 PM