#long one but a good one

[valentinehorrors]

Drawn to you like you're drawn to me

(TW: Mikey POV, dude's kinda fucked up ngl, mental torture, just a sprinkle tho)

He could smell it, both literally and figuratively. It was absolutely thrilling, seeing Casey so shaky and paranoid. He could hear the cracks in the human's sanity, and could see the fear every time he realized he was being watched.

Mikey will admit, he thought Casey would question him more about his... more interesting abilities. But despite his sanity holding by a thread, the human was still not pushing, allowing Mikey to explain at his own pace, reveal at his own pace.

It was adorable.

God how he wanted to devour him whole.

If he didn't heal quicker than most, his tongue would be severely scarred by now. His own blood was meant to be a deterrent from his bestial thoughts and instincts but it was having less and less of an effect. And one human is to blame, good thing Mikey is very in control of his darker side.

...

He was hungry, he hadn't been able to hunt for a while. With the Kraang invasion looming over their heads, stress was high, his absence would've been noticeable. At least for his and his human's late night talks, he had an alibi. Casey would say whatever he wanted him to say after all.

Yes, Casey wouldn't even question it, just say whatever Mikey wants him to say. His obedient human, so precious, so stupid and all his.

He was so hungry, good thing he had impeccable control. He'll probably sneak out to eat a rat or two, but it's fine, he has it under control, it's fine.

He really did not like April.

She was annoying, and he didn't know her well enough to cast out his strings. At least she was fuel for strengthening Donnie's strings, that was the only thing she was good for.

And she was a brat. Her complaining almost made him want to break his mask just to shut her up.

And he hated how friendly she was with Casey. How she smiled at him, batted her eyelashes and flirted. At least Casey was very clearly joking, that gave him peace of mind. And when he admitted this, Casey even offered to stop it completely, how adorable. Casey cared so much for Mikey, yes he feared him, but there was care as well. Genuine care, not a joke, not just some game, genuine care.

He didn't like April. She shows interest in Donnie and in the same breath acts disgusted of him. She treats him like a toy. Using him like the entitled brat she is. Stringing him along with hope then leaving him out to dry.

And she wasn't too different with Casey, at least Casey didn't actually have those feelings, so he took all of it as a joke. But with Donnie, he was crushed and hurt every time.

He hated April. How dare she lay there, peacefully sleeping in their lair? Laid against a passed out Donnie, leading him on like she always does. Donnie for all his smarts is so very weak, all she has to do is bat her eyelashes, give him a kiss and he forgets it all the same.

Fucking brat.

He hated her.

It would be so easy, she slept over so often. Getting rid of her would be so easy. He wouldn't even eat her, he just wanted her gone. She didn't deserve the space in his stomach, she'd probably be disgusting anyway.

Michelangelo blacked out.

That hadn't happened in a while. Actually, it hadn't happened since he first ate a human.

It happened just like last time, he blinked and he was gone. Mikey found himself in a dark void, a twisted dark version of the dojo's tree stood high and large in the distance. The turtle himself was stood on an ocean of inky black that stretched on for eternity.

The second he saw the scenery, he knew what it meant.

"Fuck..."

Thankfully, he's not there long as the inky black thick waters dragged him back down underneath their depths.

When he came to, Casey was holding his wrist with one hand, the other was wrapped around the turtle, pulling him tight against the human. Said human was trembling, and that smell of fear...

Ah, that's what brought him back, that wonderful smell. He didn't even realize he was holding his kusarigama until he dropped it, Casey letting out a sigh of relief as he did.

There was only a beat after the sigh of silence before both human and turtle whispered to the other "we need to go." The sound of Mikey's kusarigama falling to the ground, caused Donnie to stir. They only heard a slight grunt from him before they were suddenly enveloped by the very shadows swimming beneath them.

The feeling was not unfamiliar for Mikey, he had used this ability before while both experimenting as well as hunting. But he'd never brought company before.

Shadow stepping is what Annabeth had called it once. The art of using shadows for transport, the shadows felt comfortable to him. Having his form enveloped and dragged through shadows never bothered him. Clearly, this was different for the human who was shaking horribly once they appeared on their usual rooftop.

Mikey immediately leapt into covering their tracks, digging into Casey's pocket and finding his phone. He then took out his own phone as he called himself from Casey's phone, answering the call and then hanging up. While doing this, the human hadn't let go of the turtle.

Once the explanation was set, Mikey's focus shifted back to his human who seemed deeply disturbed, and much colder than before, both explained his shaking. Hell, it looked like if Casey did let go he wouldn't be able to stand. The turtle wrapped his arms securely around his human.

"I have you..." He whispered, slowly lowering them so they were sitting on the rooftop, Casey needed some guiding as he struggled to move. "It's okay... You're okay... I'd never hurt you..."

He felt Casey's shaking breaths against his neck, the human was almost as cold as his brothers. Mikey's hand softly pet Casey's head, fingers running through his hair as he held his precious human.

"It might be dangerous if you're cold for too long Case..." Mikey said as he thought about getting Casey to his room. They were quite a ways, he could try carrying him but the human had quite the tight hold on him. Shadow stepping would take less than a second, especially considering Mikey was familiar with Casey's room.

Casey tried to talk, the turtle could feel him trying to move his mouth, but he was trembling so much that only whimpers left his throat. And the sound had Mikey feeling a variety of emotions, but it also led him to make his choice.

"Casey, can you nod your head?" It took a second, but Casey shakily managed to. "Okay. You need to get warm, and as much as I want to be the one to help you, I am aware that I can't. You need blankets and your room. What I just accidentally did is called shadow stepping. It'll only last a second and it'll get us to your room quick, are you ready?" Mikey explained fast and clearly.

Casey seemed to be thinking it over before he nodded. "Alright...three..."

The shadows around them became darker, more solid.

"...two..."

The darkness started to slowly flow up both of their bodies, rising like water, Casey shivered again, another whimper coming from him.

"Three."

And once again they were enveloped into the dark nothingness of shadows. In the blink of an eye, they were in Casey's room, Casey was shaking violently but was picked up effortlessly by the mutant(?)

The human was laid in bed but struggled to let go of his turtle. Mikey paused, first he took off his mask, letting it hang around his neck. He doesn't need it to drop his mask, but its visual significance is something he knows Casey appreciates.

"Casey, I need you to let go so you can properly get warm."

He shook his head. Mikey couldn't help the small genuine smile that took over his lips.

"Casey."

He shook his head again, his arms trying to pull him closer.

"Casey, you can barely move on your own, I need to cover you in blankets." He didn't stop the slight warmth that tinted his monotone voice from being known.

Casey just hugged him tighter.

Mikey just sighed and laid down with Casey, holding him as he tried to at least semi get a blanket on Casey. "I'm too cold for you Casey."

Casey shook his head again.

The turtle gave in and just held him. At least they were no longer outside, and Casey's room was warmer than outside.

Then again, Mikey was unnaturally cold.

Hm.

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, Mikey just feeling Casey's trembling slowly start to die down.

"Casey, not that I don't enjoy this, but maybe you would warm up faster without me."

"M-M-M-Mike..."

"Yes?"

"Sh-Shut the f-f-fuck up..."

Mikey's smile grew "Giving me attitude now?"

Casey flinched and looked up at Mikey.

Oh...

Now that was utterly precious. Casey's eyes were pools of horror. He was absolutely terrified, Mikey could practically see the thread of sanity in those gorgeous eyes. How it hung so precariously.

How Mikey wished he could reach in and cut it, witness as the human broke. He wanted to be the one to cause it, to see it.

Casey truly was his favorite plaything.

"P-Please..." Casey's voice was so small and vulnerable, it was music to his ears.

"What are you asking for?" He could see his own glowing eyes in the reflection of Casey's. He wasn't even hiding the unnatural icy glow, the white slits dilated like a cat observing its favorite toy.

"D-Don't... hurt her..."

Oh, Mikey had almost forgotten what had gotten them into this situation in the first place. It caused an involuntary laugh to come from him. Such a silly situation, and a silly notion, he'd never truly lose control like that. Yes, he did not like that human brat girl, but he would never risk his mask in such a ridiculous way.

He saw the confusion in Casey's eyes as he laughed. Adorable.

"Oh Casey... I'm so sorry you had to see that... I'm afraid it's the unfortunate side effect that happens when I'm hungry."

"Y-You're hungry...?" The fear was still there, but it lowered to the usual fear, though he still trembled from the cold.

"Yes." He had no doubt it was unsettling how he said this while brushing his hair out of his face, smile not leaving his face. "But don't worry, I have a hold on it."

"Yeah, c-cuz you almost k-killing my friend is, a h-hold on it..."

"I," He suddenly got closer to Casey's face, and he reveled at how the human flinched back, "just need to eat, and I'll be fine. But I appreciate how you worry for me." He knew that's not why Casey was worried, at least not mostly.

"But... w-why have ya not?" That curiosity that mixes with the human's fear appears. Mikey's pretty sure that it's part of the reason Casey stuck around, at least initially.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, Jones. But we are dealing with an impending alien invasion for the second time now. My brothers, especially Donnie, are on high alert. Missing people bring alarm and even if I had you as my alibi, there's still a chance you would be found without me. Plus our T-phones are trackable, so even if the missing people weren't a problem, I'd have to bring you with me to ensure the alibi stands."

There was a pause as Casey processed the infodump. "But M-My phone ain't a T-T-phone."

"Casey dear, do you really think Donnie wouldn't be able to track your phone?"

Even through his fear, the blush that crept into Casey's cheeks was noticeable. "Kay... You got a p-point... So, how ya g-gonna eat? If you c-can't eat like usual..."

Mikey hummed as he idly played with Casey's hair, removing his bandanna from his head. "That is the question... Before we went to the surface I used to eat rats, maybe I'll just have a few of those... Maybe a cat... maybe some dogs... It's a pity too. I don't feel a lot often, but I admit I feel bad eating those poor creatures..."

Casey snorted, "You feel bad for stray dogs and cats but not for literal humans?"

"Of course not, many humans are absolute monsters, even worse than me. You don't count of course~" He practically cooed as he cupped Casey's cheek, feeling the soft skin, he was getting warmer, that was good.

"Not gonna lie, you're k-kinda right on that... p-people can suck ass..." There was a question in mind he wasn't voicing, he could see it bouncing around from behind those dark orbs.

He was avoiding his eyes now, he wanted to EAT HIM AND WATCH HIM CRY.

"Casey~" Mikey held the human's chin and made him look at him, "You know better than anyone I can tell when you have questions."

"You're... right..." Casey shivered as he looked Mikey in the eye. "Okay... Imma be honest Mike... I need to ask this...."

Casey took one more deep breath as he finally asked the question that's been on his mind since he witnessed the turtle tear apart and eat several thugs in front of him.

"What are you?"

And the demon in Mikey's head chuckled.

"Good luck." Annabeth sneered.

[kedreeva]

Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.

(source)

[kochei0]

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

⚔️ If you want to read some queer retelling of arturian legends have a look at my webtoon

[golyadkin]

you'll get the urge as an artist or a writer to say out loud the things you're worried about "the proportions are off" "kind of out of character" "i'm not good at summaries" "didn't get as much detail as i wanted" "i made a mistake and here's how" and that's the self-conscious part of your brain telling you "it's bad and if you don't tell them you know it's bad then they'll think you're stupid" but you've got to ignore that little voice and pretend you think it's good or else that little voice is going to ruin your life

[therealraewest]

Laios cuts the tags outta his clothes like an autistic king confirmed

[blueskittlesart]

Dear Big Brother

kind of a sequel to this comic

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

do you even remember the lives that you threw away like trash

continuation of this

[magicomens]

First >> Prev

I could say that realizing every artist's dream of completing a project like this wasn't easy, and while it's true, I must thank you all once again for encouraging me with your sweet comments and messages. It's thanks to you that a one-part punchline became a full 202 pages (!!!) story.

Now that it's over and if you still aren't tired of my shenanigans, you can follow my main blog (and see my yearly Snowlin Halloween illustration soon!).

As for the Magic Omens AU, please give me a moment to catch my breath and I'll start preparing the digital release (with bonus drawings) that will be downloadable from kofi!

To the Merlin fans who are keeping the fandom alive, to the Good Omens fans (I'm sure the 90 minutes finale will be great, even if we won't get a full season! stay hopeful!!) and to the fans of both shows for constantly enabling my silly idea,

thank you! <3

[shoomlah]

Everyone saw Crowley dressed up as Nanny Ashtoreth and wondered what she'd look like as a mid-century pinup, right, all of us, not just me 😬

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[raynewolferune]

DC x DP Prompt: Bruce is bad at emoting but at least ghosts are empathic (too bad bat kids are not)

Was reading Twincognito on AO3 when I stumbled across this gem again:

~

" “Danny, Tim. I was just…checking in. Is everything alright?” Curse his inability to make meaningful conversation when it wasn’t a life or death situation.

They glanced at each other and shrugged.

Then Danny hauled himself out of the bed and walked over to Bruce.

Bruce tried not to let too much excitement show on his face. "

~

Now I really want to read a story where Bruce adopts Danny post Meta trafficking and is being his usual emotionally constipated self. His kids keep getting mad at him because he's treating their new meta brother who was trafficked poorly (generally being stilted in conversation with him, walking away hurriedly mid-conversation, avoiding Danny when he's feeling really awkward, etc). They think Bruce is discriminating against Danny for being a civilian, meta, dealer's pick, but really it's just Bruce being horribly socially awkward. Danny knows this because of ghost empathy and find the whole thing hilarious. The whole thing comes to a head with the Bat Kids staging an intervention in the Bat Cave.

[hrokkall]

"Sad Cat Poem" by Spencer Madsen

[inkskinned]

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.

[rogerdeakinsdp]

CINEMA'S BEST SWEATERS — Part 1 (Part 2)

Basic Instinct (1992) · Let's Make Love (1960) · Scream (1996) · The Big Lebowski (1998) · Lucky Number Slevin (2006) · A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) · The Holiday (2006) · The Devil Wears Prada (2006) · While You Were Sleeping (1995) · Home Alone (1990) · Good Will Hunting (1997) · 21 (2008) · Sweet November (2001) · Knives Out (2019) · How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000) · Ocean's 8 (2018) · The Matrix (1999) · Mystic Pizza (1988) · Bridget Jones's Diary (2001) · Clueless (1995) · House of Gucci (2021) · The Lighthouse (2019) · When Harry Met Sally... (1989) · Awake (2007)

[dingledraw]

A short comic about Crowley’s hair🐍