POUND THE FUCKING LOTTIE ⚧️🏴‍☠️
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vaporlight.bsky.social
POUND THE FUCKING LOTTIE ⚧️🏴‍☠️
@vaporlight.bsky.social
2.3K followers 390 following 12K posts
axolotl lovely - silver vaporlight kay, frog k, whatever else // local representative of frog industrial concern // outsider lit and stupid shit // 38, she/her, 33rd degree tumblr rite transgenderist // let those laugh that win
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vaporlight.bsky.social
sigil #96 - "as idle as a painted ship / upon a painted ocean"
December 9, 2025 at 6:59 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
December 9, 2025 at 4:33 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
oh, these? what about them?
December 8, 2025 at 8:35 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
latest little bit of it to come into focus, a little backstory about how his monastic order killed the benign aliens under Groom Lake and had them all crucified in the mountains
NOTHING BUT DEATH WILL STAY MY HAND #28 And thus on the sixty-fifth day, Mountain Killing Hand, his head grafted onto the body of one of the sacred whores of the abbey Mons Meraka, made his way with the abbey caravan from the Simplicity. East, days and days, making stumbling progress through the fire-scarred ruins of Heaven, a week of detours on the advice of the junior procuress and the ray clicker around her neck. A weekend's stay in Proxeneta, north of the place where Wound City used to be. The catamite, who had at some point first exited and then discarded the sack, pointed at the mountains to the south. "Your order did for that," he said. "Hm?" Mountain Killing Hand had made no effort to adapt his voice to his new body. "The visitors on the crosses up there. I'd heard - not that there were so many." "I know the story." "Tell me." "Don't you have money to earn." "Don't need it," he sniffed. "Caravan feeds me." "It'd be best if you stayed here," said Mountain Killing Hand. "Best not to follow us any farther on our way. Easy to make your way on your back in a place named for it." "Tell me the story and I might." "Fine. In the before days, the Kingdom of Kingdoms imprisoned the visitors under the salt barrens, offended by their trespass. In a vain effort at ransom the visitors taught the Kingdom of Kingdoms the secret and hateful language of all metals. Their captivity grew cruel. Long did they labor –" "Stop, I know that part. What about after?" "-- fine. Having seen the Kingdom of Kingdoms crumble, the visitors emerged from their subterranean prison. They made demands of the people here." "Demands?" "That they be worshipped." "They didn't go for that, then." "They did. Where Wound City was, masses of men greater than any you or anyone has seen would crowd about the miracle-workers among the visitors. They created food and water from a power in mere air. They worked unbelievable cures upon the sick and well alike. They told inspiriting lies about the distant stars and promised an end to great hunger and a paradise to come." "So what went wrong?" "The monastics were deprived of custom. The gods, neglected by the people, turned wrathful. The visitors offered no answer. They blamed the monastics for the people's misfortune. At Corpse Husband –" "Corpse Husband?" "Grhúmlex, in those days. Probably it was less ridiculous sounding in Old English. But at that place, sacred to the visitors as the place of their imprisonment, a parlay was arranged between the visitors and the assembled armies of the monastics. The visitors thought to tempt the gods with an even greater prize than they had offered men: ten thousand wise souls enslaved in crystals like none on Earth." "The talks broke down, right? The gods refused?" "No. Master Algol, the direct predecessor of my line, was suspicious of the talks. It was him who thought to refuse. He arrived late with a weapon. When challenged, he cast his bullet into the heart of the visitors' king." "And the visitors fought back after that?" "No. The monastics fought, but the visitors did not. They were limp. As their king died, so too did their vigor. After a few minutes of beatings with weapons, they were throttled, then crushed underfoot, and then the remainder were nailed to crosses over the Trespasser Range." "Did you know Master Algol?" Mountain Killing Hand laughed. "Master Algol lived and died seven centuries ago." "How are the visitors' bodies still there, then?" "They do not rot here. Even the elements refuse their poison flesh." "It's not a very good story." "I'm no storyteller, and the legend is more interesting than the truth." "Is that why the other monastics mistrust your order?" "No. They bend the knee to the Lord God and we do not." "Did that happen before or after the parlay?" "I tire of your questions." And onward they went, the caravan of godstruck courtesans, their meager ceremonial eunuch honor guard, the perfect prana of Mountain Killing Hand riding the head he was born with and the corpse of an ill-used streetwalker woman, and the fast-eyed urchin who bought passage from the surgery warrens with his legs in the air - to the shaking places, past Dull Crown and the riverbeds the rain forgot, clusters of ash-streaked four-wheelers and the caravans of the graveyard people watching wary from the dusk horizon.
December 8, 2025 at 6:04 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
it'd sure suck if you couldn't play pokemon without running into a creature who looks exactly like your elementary school bully wouldn't it. could never happen to me haha
December 7, 2025 at 5:31 PM
vaporlight.bsky.social
"good pussy got me singin hello my baby" esque guys when i let them try and seal the deal
December 7, 2025 at 7:47 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
this one from sid meier's alpha centauri, to be a little basic
December 7, 2025 at 5:01 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
i don't memorize poetry that well - i think probably only the last bit of death by water and a few song lyrics jump out at me ("You can hope it gets better / you can follow your dreams / but hope is for presidents / and dreams are for people who are sleeping") but this one
December 7, 2025 at 4:56 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
a poem called "terror of neglect promoting infantile babble to occupy space alone"
Everyone wants that larrikin swag, but it comes with power, and power comes with cowardice. Robin Hood act where you burn shit down and the rich applaud. The poor too, if you do it right. Peter Pan rewound for this time after the death of the inner child in culture, aging rapid past adulthood, made into a newer, angrier sort of little boy, killing everything he can with pointed misbelief, smug quotidian certainty boiling the earth, smearing all the oils ever painted into spank bank refuse -- just to have, just to keep. Fascism is whatever you can get away with, and 'no' has the gates and walls of sumptuary law upon it lately, reserved for the private use of superior blood and breeding, for the cash that comes along to show it. Everyone's sick and everyone's dying and it's no world left for us for burial. Hell, they say, is real, and I figure it's full and there's worse things to be than demons.
December 7, 2025 at 3:14 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
thought i saw a labubu killed by high temperatures
December 7, 2025 at 2:58 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
censored again - "get behind me satan"
ME: hello sir. are you ready to order JACK WHITE WEARING FAKE MUSTACHE: Yes, ah, what's the escargot. I've heard about this, I don't remember what it is ME: Snails, sir. Fried in butter JACK WHITE: That's so cruel. They deserve better ME: No they don't. Snails are gender-fucked violence junkies JACK WHITE: How would you know ME: Same way I know you and your ex-wife had an incest kink. It's not like you came out and said it but it's reasonable to infer from your actions. JACK WHITE: I - ME: No, I'm not done. Did you consider wearing a fucking ponytail if you were going to disguise yourself. And take off that goddamn hat, you and I both know it's crass to wear that indoors and I don't see you sitting on the patio dinette. Jesus Christ, man. Get your shit together JACK WHITE, SULLENLY: Is the coq au vin good here ME: No, Jack White, they don't even bother sourcing capons for it. And don't pretend you don't know what those are
December 6, 2025 at 4:26 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
ohhh so THAT'S where i've heard about puppies from before!
December 6, 2025 at 1:28 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
December 6, 2025 at 12:23 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
fruiting body
December 5, 2025 at 4:58 PM
vaporlight.bsky.social
December 5, 2025 at 8:04 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
hello! i'm lottie lovely / frog k, net trans demiurge, author, poet, image prodder, etc. i'm unemployed, am broke after paying rent. i have significant expenses in medicine & food to prepare for this week & then bills due after that.
after about $400 rn.

cash.app/$asimplefrog
ko-fi.com/frogk

ty!!
December 4, 2025 at 11:09 PM
vaporlight.bsky.social
sorry for my air of ronin-esque melancholy
December 4, 2025 at 4:17 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
see nip post nip
December 4, 2025 at 4:17 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
laugh if you want but before the invention of AI, making stunning special effects like this would have risked shooting the audience with a real gun
December 4, 2025 at 4:12 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
it's a little tangential but have my single favorite bit of mystifyingly involved semiotics from american history
December 4, 2025 at 12:28 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
space adventure cobra (82) is a singular thing of hallucinatory beauty, a surrealist epic where a monkey man fights a crystalline god who works for the mafia, collects identical women who are in love with him like pokemon. terasawa saw the first 10 reels of star wars & wrote his own version + ending
December 3, 2025 at 7:11 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
December 3, 2025 at 4:58 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
existing a little bit as a treat
December 3, 2025 at 1:50 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
yeah it feels good
December 1, 2025 at 5:55 AM
vaporlight.bsky.social
December 1, 2025 at 5:49 AM