Latest Posts by rabbit-with-a-grapefruit-spoon - Page 3
This reminds me of that one set of cover designs for the hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy. If I remember correctly all four of those fit together to make a different image depending on how you arranged them.
"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy
He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.
Paulie's parents were PISSED.
Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.
And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.
So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.
But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?
Entranced.
In AWE.
Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.
But still, he's about to say "no", when?
Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.
SOLD!
It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?
Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?
Not even as Ghosts, man.
They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.
Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!
So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!
The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!
What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?
Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!
DO BETTER!
And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.
And it's one hell of Fake Hero!
A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!
Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...
The Town website?
Weirdly? Sanitized.
Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....
Wait...
Hey, guuuuys?
Are you finding ANYTHING?
And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.
All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.
But how about thousands?
Hundreds of thousands?
From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.
Not a meme.
Very real.
Not a joke.
The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!
Phantom is REAL!
And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.
Here to help.
A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.
A... a once living star.
And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.
And now? The weather!
@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation
Stakeout
Batman: Oracle, status report.
Oracle: [over the comms] the teams are all in position. Things are quiet so far.
Batman: Hm. Ok, thank you Oracle. I’ll check in on them. [switches over to Nightwing and Robin’s frequency]
-
Nightwing: -nd I’ve already bought it! You need to socialise more; this is an important part of your childhood.
Robin: No.
Nightwing: It’s so cute, though. You’ll look adorable!
Robin: [with feeling] No.
Nightwing: [huffs] At least try it on; I already paid for it.
Robin: I am NOT going trick-or-treating.
Batman: …[switches over to Orphan and Batgirl’s comms]
-
Batgirl: -so then I said “you put that hand anywhere near me again I’ll break it off” and he-
Orphan: B is listening now.
Batgirl: oh, hey B. Anyway then we had sex and he had this-
Batman: [cuts off the feed before he becomes even more traumatised] …
Batman: …ok. [tunes into Red Robin and Red Hood’s frequency]
-
Red Hood: [in a fake posh voice] the handyman?!!! How could you DO this to me Dolores?!
Red Robin: [in a high-pitched voice] How could I?!! How could I NOT?? You married your office long before I ever fucked Juan-Eduardo!
Red Hood: Don’t you DARE put this on me! I knew I shouldn’t have hired that ridiculously good looking sonofabitch!
Red Robin: Hah! Well that wouldn’t have stopped me from sleeping with CHAD!
Red Hood: NO!
Red Robin: [Triumphantly] OH YES
Red Hood: NO! MY BEST FRIEND?? WILL THE LIES NEVER END DOLORES??
Red Robin: YES! And let me tell you- he was SO MUCH better than you. He-
Red Hood: YOU’RE TEARING ME APART DOLORES
Red Robin: [breaking character] nice one
Red Hood: thank you
Batman: [over the comms] what are you DOING?
Red Robin: Hi B. There’s a couple in the building across from us who’re having a huge fight. We’re giving them voices.
Red Hood: [in his fake voice] Look at all these papers! These papers that I’m waving around! Look at them!!
Red Robin: [as “Dolores”] Well if you love your papers so much why don’t you MARRY THEM?
Red Hood: MAYBE I WILL
Red Robin: I HATE YOU! I have always hated you! and what’s more- I HATE your MOTHER.
Red Hood: [gasps] MY MOTHER IS A SAINT AND A GIFT TO MANKIND
Red Robin: YOUR MOTHER IS A DECREPIT OLD WHORE
Red Hood: I WILL- DON’T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME DOLORES
Red Robin: [hisses] Whenever the Mets play, I wish they would lose.
Red Hood: [gasps] YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS?? ME -the man who obviously bought every piece of Mets Merch known to man and display them in every room of our apartment like a tool?! HOW COULD YOU??!
Red Robin: Well what are you gonna do about it? HUH?
Red Hood: WHAT AM I GONNA DO? I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I’LL DO! I’M GONNA TAKE THIS GUN- [breaks character] Ohmygod he’s got a gun! Shit fuck moving out
Red Robin: We’re coming Dolores!
[Line goes dead]
Batman: …[stares unseeingly at the sky]
Oracle: Aw man, and it was just getting good too.
dp x dc prompt/mini blurb thing:
Somewhere along the line, stealing the Batmobile had seemed like the best option.
Elle would stand by that - admittedly short-sighted and kind of panic induced - logic. It was a vehicle that no one would try and stop. It was fast. The keys were in the ignition. Easiest car theft of her life. Or, well, unlife. Whatever. Still the easiest.
She may have forgotten that Superman could fly as fast as the stupid tank of a car could go. Or that Gotham had other vigilantes, that had bikes that were way more maneuverable, or that Billy was a big baby about car chases.
“WATCH THE ROAD!”
“YOU WATCH THE ROAD I’M DRIVING HERE!”
I don’t know if anyone has ever done this before but, here ya go… The Different Types of Fanfiction!
I probably left a few out, but these are the most common, compared to their base fiction’s canon plot. Enjoy! XD
Can you please reblog if your blog is a safe place for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, asexual, aromantic, pansexual, non binary, demisexual or any other kind of queer or questioning people? Because mine is.
After School Ghost Theory 101 with Professor Fenton
Switch to light mode or Classic Blue to get the full transparency effect!
[Image ID: A four page comic that starts with Danny Fenton standing in front of a whiteboard holding up a white cat. “Question: Do ghosts purr?”
Tucker: “Danny when was the last time you slept?” Danny: “Irrelevant.”
Danny info-dumps: “The answer is yes, but also no. Technically, all beings that possess a core are constantly "purring”, a.k.a. Core Vibrations. Core Vibrations are a nonverbal, emotion-based communication system between Ghosts, similar to how some living species use pheromones to communicate. The exact tone of each ghost is different the same way people’s voices are different. Humans can only hear these vibrations when the frequency passes through their audible range (20Hz - 20KHz), hence the ‘purring’ sound. When the range dips into infrasound (16 - 20Hz) it can cause feelings of fear and unease in humans that they often associate with ghosts and the supernatural. Also known as the ‘Heebie Jeebies.’”
Danny, wiping off the whiteboard: “Any questions before we move on?“
Danny’s audience consists of Wes Weston, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Danny’s clone Ellie, and Dash Baxter in a classroom. Wes is seated at a desk at the front taking notes. Tucker is sitting on Sam’s lap playing on a Switch, Ellie is sitting on a desk behind them. Dash is asleep at the back of the room.
Ellie, now holding the cat: “Is this Vlad’s first cat!?” Wes: "Could you tone down the floating eyes before the next part? They’re kinda distracting.” Danny: “What eyes?” Wes: “Please stop gaslighting me.”
A transparency trick on the last page reveals dark shadows and eyes all around Danny when viewed in dark mode. /.End ID]
An Extended Image ID is available under the read more because it’s over 1k. Side by side light and dark mode versions of the transparency trick is also available under the cut.
Keep reading
Happy Ace Awareness Week to all my fellow cake enjoyers
hey guys i-
if this post reaches 100k notes by Halloween I will read Homestuck
Short DPXDC Prompts #837
Danny was just relaxing doing his homework on the moon. (It was quiet and had minimal distractions. Perfect for studying). He didn’t expect to see anyone during his studying but after seeing movement out of the corner of his eye he went to check it out. To his surprise: Superman was just sitting on the moon looking down at earth. Chilling.
Jason is at the limit of limitality, a single drop more of ectoplasm and he'd be a hafta. With so much ectoplasm and still able to be possessed his body is the perfect place for a ghost to hideout in or just take a nap. I have no clue if this makes sense it's 3am. I just am giggling over the thought of Danny hanging out in the back of Jason's mind and chest bursting out of him to freak people out in emergencies. Of Danny taking a nap, he rolls over and his tail flops out of Jason's chest and he has to quickly shove it back in.
That would be hilarious.
If Jason doesn't know about this it would be funny, but it would be even better if he did and they conspired together to prank people
Jason: *knocks politely on his chest armor*
The bats: ?
Danny: *pops his head out of Jason's chest* Hello :D
Pandemonium ensues
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.
---
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I just couldn’t resist the urge to draw something based on this by @samthecookielord 😂 Isn’t that comforting 😂
the gimmick blogs are like tumblr’s rogue gallery. yes we’ve got some heroes, yes we’ve got some villains, but more importantly if you look over here you will see some freak who devotes all their time to counting the number of “t’s” in a post
Imagine Danny Fenton working as a security gaurd at Arkum Asylum. Like, he jokes around with the inmates, makes horrible puns, try to get his stick in the mud coworkers to crack a smile. Nobody would take this bean pole seriously. Not noticing the lean muscle underneath his skin, or the way he surveys every room he enters in an instance. He's become a favorite with several inmates like Harley and the Riddler; not afraid to make witty comebacks and banter. There is just one thing though. He tells them one day if they ever try to escape they best do it when he's off the clock because they won't otherwise. Don't mistake this for a challenge, its a warning, he informs them. And the most mysterious thing about this new gaurd is that there has yet to be a successful prison break when he's on duity. This kind of record in Arkum is unheard of. Who knows what kind of attention that might cause. Mabye even the curiosity of a certain local Vigilante.
The true question is, is it the Clark Kent/Superman effect or is it the platypus/Perry the Platypus effect?
A mark on your forehead identifies the god you must worship to stay alive, usually by joining its local church or temple. Your mark is unknown, meaning an old, forgotten god sponsored you. To survive, you must either find an old temple to worship at, or do the arduous task of building a new one
My adaptation of the God of Arepo short story, which was originally up at ShortBox Comics Fair for charity. You can get a copy of the DRM-free ebook here for free - and I'd encourage you to donate to Mighty Writers or The Ministry of Stories in exchange.
Again it's an honour to be drawing one of my favourite short stories ever. Thank you so much for the original authors for creating this story; and for everyone who bought a copy and donated to the above non-profits.
Anger management au but Danny hates Jason on sight. Not because he's undead or liminal or any of that. But because he's dating his sister and he doesn't approve.
Jason is both impressed and amused that this teenage twink keeps threatening him up to the point Jason asks, "Oh? What are you going to do?"
And suddenly Jason is in a wall. Not knocked through it, no. But in the wall. As in hes been densist shifted into it. Jason isn't even sure how he's alive all things considered and Danny is refusing to let him out.
It isn't until Jazz gets home and asks, "Uh, why is my boyfriend in the wall?" That Danny, with much reluctance, let's her boyfriend go
Jason likes this kid. He's not letting Bruce anywhere near him.
Batman had Danny by his leg. More specifically he was hanging Danny upside-down 40 stories in the air via said leg.
Okay. So Danny maaay have stolen some tech from a lab. Okay, a lot of tech. But Batman thought he was a witness or an accomplice! Not the perpetrator themselves! Does he do this to all his witnesses?
Appearently Danny said that last part out loud and his sass was unappreciated, hence Batman letting go. Unfortunately for both of them Danny didn't want to fall and he instinctually stayed there floating perfectly still in mid air.
Danny may be a terrible liar, but he was a phenomenal actor, especially when he's feeling spiteful. Alright, he thought random bullshit GO! Before Batman could comment, our little menace gave Batman a scandalized look, "You're a meta?!"
"No." The bats scowled even harder than before "Your abilities may have manifested just now."
Oh ho ho, Danny wasn't going to let him get away that easy. "My parents would have killed me if I had the meta gene. I know. They checked." That one wasn't exactly a lie. His parents would have seen any superpowers as confirmation that he or Jazz were ghosts and then it was game over and they did check thier DNA for something a lot when they were younger...huh. Thoughts for later than.
"How do you know you haven't gotten mutated by any of the stuff you deal with? Besides if they were my powers then I wouldn't still be hanging upside down."
Bats grunted in acknowledgment and just stared at him for a few seconds, which was uncomfortable. Lucky for him one of the other bats landed near Batman on the rooftop and asked about the situation. Danny didn't hesitate, "Batmans a meta! I'm stuck!"
"I am not"
"Are too!" Danny quipped back. He sounded kinda childish but he didn't particularly care at the moment. More bats came after the second one spilled the beans on some 'com' thing. They mostly mocked Batman and asked if he was okay, which he was but he would like to be let down please.
Eventually someone called 'Red Hood' showed up and was really really mad that Batman had threatened a kid.
There were fireworks after that. The kind that belonged on a soap opera and Danny wished he had popcorn for it. Unfortunately he was stuck disrespecting physics for the time being.
Or was he? The big bad bats attention wasn't on him at the moment now would be a good time to ru-
Danny screamed, genuinely startled at the sudden free fall. He heard multiple people swear and grappling hooks fire. The next thing he knew he was shaking while holding onto someone for dear life. It had been almost a full year since the accident and yet he still lost control of his powers sometimes when distracted.
Luckily Red Hood is super cool.
----
Aka Danny gaslight Batman into thinking he has superpowers he can't control.
Red Hood is mad Bruce threatened a child.
Girl scout cookie season has to be fucking hell in Gotham
Like, okay so I don't actually know anything about girl scouts, but it has to be intense right? Every girl scout in the city has to know that Bruce Wayne is a soft touch and will buy out your entire stock if you just look at him with even a hint of a sad frown. Which means outside of Wayne Enterprises and Wayne Manor is prime real estate, the kind of hot spots that scouts and their parents are willing to go to war for. Like, full on street brawls breaking out between these little girls and their rival troops over common Bruce Wayne locations.
And it's *Gotham* so you know there are like, Gotham Specific badges for things like "Improvised Weaponry" and "Urban War Tactics" I bet there are badges for helping people during Rogue attacks, with like a badge for each specific Rogue and a badge you get if you've earned all the others.
Just. Gotham Girl Scouts have to be scarier than any Marine, and are probably on so many watch lists, both ad potential heroes and villains.
Wayne TV show
Ok so awhile ago someone (I’m sorry I don’t know who, if u know plz tell me so I can credit) came up with the idea of “what if the Waynes have a show like ‘keeping Up with the Kardashians’?”
Well I’ve been reading WFA and was thinking… what if they did have a show like that but the Wayne’s didn’t try to hide their weirdness. Like the weirdness that only comes from there nightlife.
I’m taking:
Damian keeps threatening to stab people and the crew think it’s a joke until he actually pulls out a dagger.
Dick decides the best way out of the manor is to do a flip out of a 3rd story window
Jason jokes about death (both his own and causing other people’s) a little to much
Tim full on passes out at the dinner table and Bruce just picks him up like he’s a toddler that weights next to nothing and takes him to bed
Cass has a habit of jump scaring the camera guy by just popping into existence next to them
They have a game of paintball that gets way to intense and ends up with Stephanie giving a speech that wouldn’t be amiss in a war movie
After ep 1 a lot of people talk sh/t about them online and in the next ep Barbara just random says names every now and then. It isn’t until after people work out she was saying the names of the worst people that sh/t talked them
For a long time all the viewers and crew thought Duke was the normal one until ‘the incident’
Jason and Tim are fighting and it’s getting pretty rough and bruce just spawns outta f/cking nowhere and just picks up the human tank that is Jason Todd like it’s nothing and just walks off
It becomes a running joke that whenever things go wide the camera just zooms in on Alfred, who just standing in the background calm as can be, as you can just hear the chaos continuing
Like everyone knew the Waynes were crazy but like…….. no one expected this
Billy Batson and Damian Wayne being weirdly good friends (ft. the occasional Jon Kent)
Billy befriends Damian after the JL learns his real identity. Batman approached him and told him they should meet since they’re the same age.
At first, it’s awkward because Damian isn’t interested in making friends, and Billy’s mad that Batman is essentially sending him to the kids' table. Until…
Damian: “Why must my father insist that I socialize? I can handle myself!” Billy: “Thank you! I’ve been on my own since I was six. I don’t need an adult to tell me what to do.” Damian: “…I like you.” Billy: “Wanna spy on the Justice League?” Damian: “Yes.”
Batman immediately regrets his decision.
At first, the two don’t really talk outside of meetings or happenstance, but when they do, they’re like twins. They know exactly what the other is thinking at all times. (The adults are terrified.)
Both end up bonding over their upbringing, specifically the fact that they were abused/traumatized/malnourished for several years. That marks the point where they start talking regularly.
Damian nearly jumps out of his skin the first time Billy speaks to him in Arabic (courtesy of the Islamic Prophet, Solomon.) They now speak exclusively in Arabic when they gossip.
They will cut a bitch. Do not get on either’s bad side.
Every time one of them says something out of pocket, the other one high-fives them. Even Jon is concerned (and very jealous.)
Billy is required to attend the same school as the Teen Titans and YJ for a bit as a condition of staying in the JL so he and Damian end up taking a few classes together.
Billy “I have Zeus on speed dial” Batson and Damian “I got a PhD in The Classics at age six” Wayne proceed to roast their history professors in the back of the classroom for all of the misinformation.
Damian: “Okay so I really need a human skull, but you can’t ask why.” Billy: “As long as you also don’t ask why.” *pulls out several pristine human skulls from pocket dimension* “Take your pick.” Damian: “…this one.” Jon: “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck”
They’re both eerily good at schooling their emotions due to countless years of emotional abuse and neglect. If anything goes wrong during a mission, it’s like a switch is flipped. They are suddenly completely level-headed.
Damian gifts Billy a PC that he built himself so they can play games together without so much lag. (It’s literally just Minecraft on creative mode. They design a working amusement park together.)
Both have been permanently banned from all zoos on the eastern seaboard. Damian tried to “liberate” the ostriches, and Billy taught the gorillas swear words in sign language.
Everyone Else: “We need to find civilization on this desert planet we crashed landed on or we’ll starve.” Billy and Damian: “The human body can go ten days without food.” Everyone: “…Are you okay?” Billy and Damian: “Not important.”
Billy, Jon, Colin, and Damian have a group chat where they regularly place bets on dumb mishaps the adults get themselves into. The one rule is they can’t bet with cash. Thus they create a trading system made entirely of local snacks, Pokémon cards, supernatural knick-knacks, and dares.
Steph: Come on Dami, tell us who's your favorite sibling
Tim: Me. Obviously
Damian: Do you have a concussion right now, or has your caffeine habit finally caused brain damage?
Duke: Yeah unless you all were pulling my leg, Damian tried, and nearly succeeded, to kill you multiple times
Tim: Let me explain-
Damian: This ought to be good
Tim: When I started being Robin, Dick barely talked to me and now he calls me multiple times a week and we go train surfing once a month
Dick: Sorry about that. I was kinda going through....a lot
Tim: No problem. Then Jason damn near killed me and he says I'm his favorite brother. We play Smash Brothers and talk shit about you guys all the time
Steph: It's true, I've been over there a few times. There's also cake and plotting against our enemies
Tim: So I fully expect that Damian either will, or currently does, like me the best. After the second murder attempt I knew I was going to be his best man if he gets married
Damian: Oh No
Dick: What?
Damian: I just thought about it and if I had to pick a best man, it'd be a tie between you and Drake!
Tim: Just accept it. The more you try to hate me, the more you'll love me