My short story, His Fingers Dripped Like Wax, was just published in the latest issue of the journal ANMLY!
You can read it for free online here
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@herbertwest
My short story, His Fingers Dripped Like Wax, was just published in the latest issue of the journal ANMLY!
You can read it for free online here

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
baseball fights are better than hockey fights because everyone expects a fight in hockey. baseball fights are some real hater shit
ABSOLUTELY COMICAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!
love these shots sm
the hounds of tindalos isnt like the most thought provoking or best written short story but it is still probably my favorite piece of classic cosmic horror and the titular hounds themselves are definitely my favorite eldritch creatures. imagine a dog that lives on the other side of the ends of time and its full of an evil thats not actually evil so much as the calculable absence of everything that makes people good and because of that the presence of humans drives it into a mad ravenous frenzy and it moves by being made of sacred geometry and going wherever angles are. and its alive but its not alive. it lacks all the essential biological qualities of something living. its going to make you not alive too. it even secretes a weird blue slime.
in concentric circle hell
and it’s in a church

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I go off my meds (planned) and immediately start looking up tattoo artists
Also its 1am on a worknight
I go off my meds (planned) and immediately start looking up tattoo artists
I also completely forgot that at the same time (2016ish) I was writing some kinda cool tarot poetry that would go within larger pieces - basically foreshadowing through tarot cards. I'll provide two examples under the cut. These are from two separate stories, so while the characters share suits, they are NOT the same characters.
1.
Knight of Wands meets King of Cups A questing they did go When Hierophant (on souls he sups) Appeared to tell them no So King of Cups to Knight of Wands said “As one we can defeat The Hierophant, once he is dead Our souls we can then meet” The Page of Swords, it smiled wide Steel tickling its teeth “To see the Sun, my time I’ll bide And weave its funeral wreath"
2.
The Page of Wands and Wheel of Fortune, thought it all a game They set out seeking gold and fun and fame The King of Wands sent Queen of Cups to help them on their quest She threw herself wholeheartedly and bent at his behest The Tower fell behind them, the Moon was on their side It all seemed well, but then again, with whom were they allied? The Devil’s in the details and Strength has them in his sights He’ll string them up as Hanged Men before reading them their rights A war is coming, after all, all cards are on the field The Worlds all depend on who will be first to yield
My Very First Novel was started in highschool, shelved, and then the first draft was completed in 2016.
I'm thinking of revisiting it...kind of fitting to write a new draft ten years later. Most of the plot doesn't work, but the world, the characters, and one plotline is fantastic. If I can think of a new overarching story for it, I think I'll give it a go.

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New reference image for Art Fight!
The character is Randall, the half-human son of an angel fallen for the sin of gambling. He is extremely lucky, and can change the luck of others. His wings are composed of playing cards, and he has a variety of games-of-chance-themed tattoos. Randall splits his time between the magical world to the left of humanity where stories dwell, Hell (to see his fallen-angel mother), and occasionally the human world - though this is difficult as he must hide his wings. He works at a casino when he is not adventuring.
Recently managed to activate the most amazing infodump trap card.
I was driving through Vermont with a friend, and we pulled over at a tiny shop offering Maple Items. We were on the state highway, not the interstate, so "pulling over" meant "squeezing my tiny car into a parking bay the size of a broad highway shoulder."
As we got out of the car, an older woman emerged from behind the building where she had been pruning her roses. She introduced herself as Tammy.
Her shop offered the promised variety of Maple, but also a number of small antiques and a plethora of dog figurines, plaques, and clearly-hand-stitched garden flags.
A huge purple ribbon hung on the wall behind the register, along with many pictures of small dogs. This was no county fair ribbon. It was the size of my torso. The material had the soft sheen of actual silk.
As I placed my purchases on the counter, I asked, "Do you... Breed dogs?"
Yes. She does. She has bred Yorkies for the last 40 years. Her mother bred Yorkies before her. The purple ribbon was from her national championship winning Yorkie.
You may be expecting that the infodump was going to be about Yorkies.
It was not.
It was about 40 years of drama in the Yorkie breeding community. Where – you must understand – the judging at shows is often about who you're in with, not about the dogs. This is especially true when Tammy's opponents win anything.
And Tammy's mother! Well. Phyllis has been on the Yorkie scene since Yorkies were invented. Because of this, many women of equally venerable age hold deep grudges against Phyllis. The sort of grudges that result in episodes of Midsommar Murders.
This led to deep injustices against Phyllis on the part of judges and prevented her dogs from winning so often she retired from the scene. Judging is all about who you're friends with, after all.
After 20 years in hiding, Phyllis – the One True Queen of Yorkie Breeding – hatched a plot. She may have been out of the show circuit, but she was still breeding dogs. She entered an absolutely perfect bitch in the national competition, but sent her with a handler rather than go in person.
None of the usurpers knew who this dog belonged to, and in dog-breeding circles this Does Not Happen. This could have resulted in further injustices, but Phyllis was crafty. She knew this tournament was being judged by a man from the UK, who knew naught of the drama in the US Yorkie Empire.
With these advantages – and being the best dog there – Phyllis's bitch won the highest honor at the show.
Incensed by this insult to their ill-gotten supremacy, the other owners descended on the handler after the show, demanding to know for whom he was working.
"Phyllis," said he.
The name of the overthrown queen evoked horror in the usurpers.
"PHYLLIS!? She's still ALIVE!???"
Yes, Phyllis yet lived, and this bitch – the dog, not the woman – went on to mother Tammy's current dogs. One of whom, Lucy-Fur, is the reincarnation of Tammy's sister (also Lucy). This is certain for two reasons.
Firstly, Sister Lucy absolutely went straight to Hell upon her death, and Lucy-Fur the dog is positively as evil as Sister Lucy was.
Secondly, Sister Lucy always said when she died she wanted to come back as one of Phyllis's dogs because "mom treated the dogs better than us."
im developing cataracts in my right eye and ill be getting surgery for it on sunday so art might be paused for a bit next week ...
to help OP out for each day it is healing I will invent a new minion hybrid.
day 1: if a minion and shrek had sex that produced viable offspring
that's okay. you dont need to do that actually
fast food

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Remember this post about the Flash v2 #19 cover? I found an editor's notes about alterations, and they're hilarious. It explains where the dog went, and the editor also noted the erroneous Mr Element costume and Kadabra's inexplicable appearance. It also kinda-sorta explains the longstanding question of who the guy with the camera is: the editor didn't know either.
But it's very strange that the editor didn't know anything about Lisa. I wonder who told the artist to put her in properly.