Gallery

“You are truly a detestable creature,” Klaus said, shortly after entering his apartment to see his prized imp tearing into one of his sofa cushions. Pookie stopped abruptly when she finally spotted her owner watching, eyes wide and horribly sad, as if she had any chance of understanding what Klaus had said about her.   She didn’t understand… right? Klau...

While a crowded Toy Fair may not have been Klaus’s ideal destination for his rare morning off, Breakfast knew his secret. It was even more secret than his love for cute pastel things, which was obvious to anyone that witnessed the pair together, more secret than the silly names he gave his pet stroodle. That secret was… his love of tabletop games, specifically Bungeons & Dragons.   ...

It was the perfect gift, but Breakfast knew from personal experience that Klaus didn’t just… accept gifts. In fact, informing him that she had a gift would be the quickest way to ensure that she didn’t see him for at least a week or so. Such a stalemate could feasibly go on forever, Klaus insisting that she take back whatever trinket she’d purchased before he could meet her eyes again. No, she’d have to surprise him with it… or get him over to her pl...

Somewhere between a kitchen incident in Breakfast’s apartment that had left the whole place smelling of smoke and burnt ube, and about half a dozen sticky treats in the past few days, she’d become acutely aware of just how filthy her impups had become. Strawbaby, normally a bright magenta hue, had taken on a more dull hue in her coat, and Raspbaby was almost unrecognizable, as his baby blue coloring had turned something more like… baby grey? ...

What’s the baker’s equivalent of a gardener’s green thumb?   Whatever it is, Breakfast was certainly lacking such a thing on her hooved paws, and the bun whose laugh and good-natured grin was filling her bunPhone’s speakers and screen, respectively, had the gall to be born with both. If Quince weren’t so damn charmin...

Breakfast had never in her life met a pillow that she didn’t like. In fact, her tendency to flop herself onto any mattress she came across, be it a stranger’s, her own, or a display mattress at a fancy department store, was so well-known that she’d earned the nickname “pillow princess” from one of her many exes. And yes– that was the only reason she might have acquir...

Had things taken just a slightly different turn for her somewhere, Breakfast might have counted herself among the great daredevils of Burrowgatory, or at least a small-time stunt double in action movies. Perhaps it was her lustful proclivities that placed any activity that she could say got her heart truly pounding—and she meant truly, life-threateningly pounding—at the top of her list. Perhaps that was just part of her nature.   ...

The amount of dango in the clear plastic containers in Breakfast’s hands was, frankly, absurd. It made some kind of sense, of course, since a Burrowgatory-wide Imp Training Competition did mean that there were a lot of imps who would be craving the sweet, skewered morsels, but it didn’t make her arms any less tired.    “Quince, I was wondering…” Breakfast began, nearly tripping over the imps at her ...

It started as… window shopping, really. Breakfast had heard from others just how many carats a show-quality stroodle could run you, and she was most certainly not the kind of girl who kept cash in her bank account for long– nor could she even fathom what made a stroodle show-quality or otherwise. All the same, the cute, cuddly, yappy little guys in the window of Pedigree Pet...

This was, for all intents and purposes, the best idea ever. Chugging down drink after drink at The Rabbit Hole was fun, sure, but the tab at the end of the night was nearly as eye-watering as the clawdkas that Breakfast slurped down in excess (as fast as she could, mind you, for fear of actually tasting it). Especially when there were bills to be paid. ...