This Is A Title.

So... This is just stuff that I find cool. And art. Yes.

[infernum-lupus]

My house is looking pretty great right about now

[pro-gay-deactivated20170112]

The last thing u ate + ur fave animal as ur new url

[shiropoint]

This is mesmerizing to watch.

[fuu-dog-treats]

actually physically painful to watch because you know months were spent masking all those frames for each of the kajillions of transitions in this

[ask-ickle-mod]

[thatsthat24]

Holy………..shmokes…….

[mozzarella-shenanigans]

Oh?? My god??

[adventures-in-theatre]

story time: presidential edition

so you know how everyone has a story

you know

like the story

like if you’re at a party and someone turns to you and says, tell the story

and you know exactly what they mean

the story

well 

i have a story

and not unlike most good stories, it involves three key components:

barack obama

pre-2008 reebok sneakers 

and the absolute earth-shattering horror you can only feel after making the worst mistake of your life 

so here we go

it all began eight years ago

(i was a gangly child then) 

and barack obama came to town

(when i was a young girl)

(my father took me out into the city)

(to see the president of the united states, obama) 

(barack obama)

except it wasn’t the city but where my parents worked 

and my mother was hired to take pictures of obama shaking the hands of others

(rich people)

(ceo’s) 

(people who didn’t wear reeboks to meet the president)

so i skipped school to see obama

(naturally) 

(but my teacher was a republican so it still counted as an absence) 

and the adventure begun

but as i soon learned

most of the adventure was waiting in a large room with my mother and some secret service men for roughly eight hours 

because there is no timing with obama

(barack obama)

no one can know when obama is supposed to be there

(barack obama)

there is no, like, obama warning system

(barack)

it’s just that one second he’s not there

and the next second

he’s there

(barack obama)

so it was eight hours

and i remember nothing from those eight hours except for when one of the secret service men tried to talk to me

‘how are your studies,’ he said

how’s school, he probably meant

but i didn’t understand at the time

i was a gangly child

i was scared

he was tall

(i cried)

and then all of a sudden

(about eight hours into the eight hours)

he was there

(barack obama)

he was beauty 

he was grace

he was

(barack obama)

he walked into the room

he wasn’t wearing reeboks 

(i noticed)

(i began to feel i’d made a mistake)

my mother took pictures of him shaking the hands of others

(rich people)

(ceo’s)

(none of whom were wearing reeboks) 

and at the very end

obama began to leave 

(barack obama)

i was happy enough to have graced his presence

but my parents

my parents were not happy

they needed more

‘mr. obama,’ they called

and they pointed to me

‘of course,’ obama said

(barack obama)

he’s so nice, i thought

and then it hit me

oh no, i thought

oh yes, my parents thought at some point, probably

i’m obama, obama thought, most likely

i was going to meet obama

up close and personal

obama

(barack obama)

the rest was a blur

and the next thing i knew i was there

with obama

(barack obama)

his hand was shaking my hand

his hand was on my hand

(nothing had ever felt so right)

‘so what’s you’re name,’ he asked 

(with obama’s voice)

(because he was obama)

(barack obama)

and i almost forgot but i told him

and he said it correctly even though it’s weird 

(obama said my name)

and we were off to a good start

how was i to know

how was i to know the horrors to come

‘so how old are you,’ he asked then

and that’s when this dream became a nightmare

‘twelve,’ i said

a seemingly innocent answer

but here’s the thing

i was 

thirteen. 

(thirteen)

(13)

(12+1)

(16-3)

(13.0)

(Thirteen.) 

what have i done, i thought

(panic! at the election)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3LGopSVju4

i still don’t know why i did it

did i really forget? 

did i do it for the thrill of the chase?

to see if i could?

maybe

but obama didn’t know

i did it, i thought, i lied

i lied to the president of the united states

i pulled it off

the greatest lie in history

the greatest heist

(i didn’t know what a heist was)

(i was thirteen)

‘oh so you’re in 6th grade then,’ obama said

shit.

i was so close

shit what do i say, i thought

the journey is not over

the nightmare rages on

what do i say

i open my mouth to say, yes

‘no,’ i say

what the fuck, i think 

‘no i’m in 7th grade” 

(because i was)

maybe he won’t know, i thought

but he did.

(obama’s been around the block)

(obama knows what’s up)

‘so you’re ahead of your class, then’ he said

(i wasn’t)

(i failed basic math at least twice by this time)

‘yes,’ i said, just wanting this nightmare to be over

just wanting the lie to end

for obama to call me out on my shit and arrest me

to spend the rest of my youth locked away in prison where i couldn’t hurt anyone any more with my lies

i waited

i waited for arrest

but arrest didn’t come

and that was even worse.

obama trusted me

obama thought i was a good kid

obama thought i was ahead of my class 

(ahead of my class) 

i let him down

i let obama down

(barack obama)

i watched him leave

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYNH1baA_7k

obama, i mouthed out after him

obama i’m sorry

(he trusted me)

why did i do it, you ask

i don’t know

after all these years

i still don’t know

it still haunts me

i still wake up at night, shaking, and i think

i lied to the president of the united states

(twice)

the photographic evidence of my nightmare hangs in my father’s office

i’m smiling through my pain

i’m wearing reeboks

obama is not

(barack obama)

i hope that someday, after obama’s retirement 

we can put this all behind us and start anew 

start fresh

(no more lies)

(no more deceit)

but i’m not naive

i know that we can never really go back

back to the way things were

five seconds after i met him but five seconds before i lied

but i can dream

i can hope

obama

obama i’m sorry

(barack obama)

[hellyeahthomassanders]

A Series of Interesting Duets

[permasleepbye]

These have always been my favourite vine and I wish there were many more

[angry-beibers]

We intimidated a bus sign at swampcon today

[houndoom-kaboom]

high art at it’s finest

[maelstromaic]

@juunkrat

[skshb-deactivated20150323]

[apathes]

dusted

[are-you-even-gluten-free-bro]

I love when real life pulls a hollywood action scene

[trap-lord-cleo-deactivated20190]

The song 😭😭😭😭💀💀💀💀

[judo-ichidai-deactivated2018121]

Always re-blog Suave Justice.

[wendigorunner-deactivated201807]

This is back on my dash and that’s a good thing.

I love how she’s standing at the end.

[mapsontheweb]

Most popular fast food restaurants by US state.

[coralmarks-deactivated20170821]

this will align with how the USA breaks apart in 50 years

[infernum-lupus]

Nah for real though I visited my aunt in Wisconsin for two weeks and we ate at Culver's like fifteen times. I was so upset when I realized we didn't even have Culver's where I lived and almost cried when I came home I was emotionally invested in their damned cheese curds.

[fuckyeahoscarisaac]

[potterlovermore]

THIS IS THE TIGHTEST SHIT IVE EVER SEEN

[ladynorbert]

REBLOG FOR CARRIE

[video-hall-of-fame]

[infinity-ahead]

There are so many layers as to why this is funny to me

[grawly]

[triforce-kun]

@regi572

[regi572]

I have never had a more relatable post in my life

[rarmaster]

[ficcyshit]

Watching a guy play Doom on a cabal of toasters is officially the most surreal shit to grace my existence.

[hotlocalwizards]

[taco-bell-rey]

So proud that Netflix recognizes the Babadook as gay representation 

[barricorn]

the B in LGBT stands for Babadook

[soyeahso]

I’m dying. 

This is a woman who is done with Christmas. 

[sookylibs]

@soimlk when i try and cook for u 

[brucebocchi]

my man straight up turned into jim halpert as soon as he realized he had to eat it

[profmeowmers]

high key can u give me a rundown of ur fav wacky wwii shenanigans

Okay friends today we are gonna learnabout the GHOST ARMY, which, disappointingly, was not actually anarmy made of ghosts

pictured: the unit patch for theGhost Army, which is DOPE AS FUCK

see one of the things that made WWII sofucking nuts was the totally bizarre level of technology. Like wow weinvented the first real computer and radar but also if you wanted tosee how many troops were hanging out somewhere you had to send a dudeto fly over and take pictures manually??? this left A LOT of room forshenanigans

so the normal method of dealing withaerial surveillance was to cover shit with camouflage netting. Sayyou’ve got an nice air base that you really don’t want any bombsdropped on- you literally just cover that with a ludicrous amount ofnetting and some fake trees and BAM now it looks like just an emptyfield from the air

there’s a building under that weirdlump

that’s cool! That’sreally cool! But not cool enough

At some pointsomebody sat down and went “hey wait. What if…what if instead ofdisguising buildings and units as fields, we disguise fields asunits”

holy fuckingshit!!!

the British hadused a bunch of fake tanks and like, boxes of provisions stacked upin tank shape and then covered with a tarp in 1942 during OperationBertram and it worked really well, but they didn’t have a specialunit devoted to just clowning on the Germans like that.

so the US militarydecides they do want a designated clowning unit and goes out andrecruits a bunch of fucking nerds from all the art schools and makesthem into the 23rd Headquarters Special Troops aka THEGHOST ARMY, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU USE ANY OTHER NAME LIKE SERIOUSLY

the ghost army’sjob was basically to go in, sidle up to a real unit, and thenbasically set up a fake version of that unit while the actual unitsneaked away to go dunk on Nazis where the Nazis weren’t expectingthem

okay time to getinto the really cool part of this story, which is HOW the ghost armyfaked being a real unit:

step 1: INFLATABLETANKS AND AIRCRAFT OH MY GOD

that’s a big ol balloon!!!

the ghost army hada stockpile of inflatable tanks, aircraft, artillery, cars, whatever,that they would set up and then poorly cover with camouflagenetting so from the air it looked like someone had just done areal shit job of hiding actual materiel. They even had dummy soldiersthat they would set up to make the scene look populated, since theghost army itself was about 1,000 dudes regularly imitating units of30,000 men

what’s really coolis that visual deception was more than just the inflatable stuffitself. If the ghost army plopped down a balloon tank, they then alsohad to go out with shovels and rakes and shit to make a fake trackthat a real tank would have left, because it turns out tanks arereally hard on your landscaping

step 2: “spoofradio”

the last couple ofdays before the real unit moved out, the radio operators of the ghostarmy would move in. see, radio transmissions were done in Morse code,and it turns out every radio operator has a slightly different “fist”when typing Morse. A “fist” is basically typing style- somepeople would take longer to type out certain letters or would havepauses between groups or anything like. Anybody listening to theradio transmissions who was skilled enough could tell different radiooperators apart from just their fist

anyway the ghostarmy operators would move in and basically listen to all the realunit’s radio transmissions until they had learned the real operators’fists. Then they would take over radio traffic, imitating that fistso it seemed like the real operator had never left. I forgot to makethis section funny because I was too caught up in how rad it is SORRY

step 3: making alot of noise

the ghost army hadspecial trucks fitted with huge fuck off speakers and a whole libraryof stock sound effects. Once the real unit left and the fake unitinflated, the sound trucks would come in, select a combination ofsound effects that matched the unit they were impersonating, and thenplayed everyone in the 15 mile radius of the speakers their fire mixtape

step 4: fuckinpartying!!!

see the thing aboutimpersonating your own units is that other allied units would knowabout it and might talk about it where enemy collaborators couldhear. So the ghost army had to fool the Germans but they also had tofool their own army. Every time they impersonated a new unit,the ghost soldiers would paint that unit’s insignia on all the fakemateriel, make fake signs with the unit’s name and colors, and sewthe unit’s patches on their own uniforms

once they weredressed up as soldiers from the impersonated unit, the ghost armydudes would go into town and mingle with other soldiers from actualfighting units nearby and hang out in bars while loudly saying thingslike “YES HELLO I AM DEFINITELY A REAL SOLDIER FROM THE WHATEVERDIVISION, ABSOLUTELY FOR REAL STATIONED ON THAT HILL OVER THERE”

so anyway thisbunch of weedy American art nerds staged 20+ battlefield deceptionsbetween 1944 and the end of the war, sometimes fooling that Germansso successfully that they actually got shelled

I'mma leave youwith this quote from the book “The Ghost Army of World War II” byRick Beyer and Elizabeth Sayles, because it’s a quote from an actualmember of the Ghost Army and that alone makes it funnier thananything I could ever write:

On anotheroccasion, two Frenchmen on bicycles somehow got through the securityperimeter. Shilstone managed to halt them, but not before they hadseen more than they should. “What they thought they saw was fourGIs picking up a forty-ton Sherman tank and turning it around. Theylooked at me, and they were looking for answers, and I finally said‘The Americans are very strong.‘”

[haunted-hideaway]

The Ghost Army of WWII is a great book. There is also a documentary called The Ghost Army that may still be on Netflix. These guys were awesome. 

[writing-prompt-s]

Couples receive “parent points”, which they can use to purchase their children. Most parents wait for a few thousand, but you chose to buy the cheaper, 100 point child.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Shane knows what it’s like to be a 100 point child. He knows how it feels to see potential parents–potential families–come through the facilities doors, faces bright with excitement. He knows how it feels to see them reading the little plaques on the nursery doors, scanning the lists there for the right bits of knowledge and etiquette and grace that they want their baby to have.

He knows how it feels to see their faces pinch outside the window before they hurry to the next room.

Shane grew up in a 100 point nursery. They had torn, ratty, books and no teachers, and when snack time came, the tray was pushed through a slat in the door. They were called “unruly” and “damaged” and “stupid.” A lot of the other kids threw tantrums and broke furniture (and sometimes other kids). A lot of the other kids went quiet after the first few years when they realized they’d never be adopted until they were old enough (or pretty enough) to be useful. A lot of the kids cried and didn’t stop until they got taken away or were aged out.

Shane’s grown up a lot since aging out. He put himself through school, got himself a job, shed his 100 points like the torn clothes he’d left the facility in. He’s powerful now, successful, and he’s grown out of the twisted nose, big ears, and gap-toothed smile that had made him one of the less attractive 100 point babies. Or maybe he’s grown into them. Who’s to say?

It’s taken him a long time to get enough Parent Points to do what he wants. Being a man is, for once, somewhat hindering as most of society equates “parental” with “maternal.” He’s lost count of how many social workers have politely hid expressions of surprise when he told them he wanted to adopt stag, that he’s willing to take the classes, get the grades, make the oaths to get even one Parent Point.

Keep reading

[frangipani-wanderlust]

Pete and Jane Carson were poor, so poor, and lived so far out away from town that they had trouble managing to earn many Parent Points.  The points were awarded very strictly, and since their truck was…third-hand at least, well, they didn’t always make it everywhere exactly on time.

But they were so in love, and so enthusiastic about it, that as soon as they managed to reach that magical hundredth point, they practically ran to the Ward Building.

The lady took down their information and showed them all the brochures and read them all the disclaimers with a distinct air of disdain.  It was obvious she thought no one had any business taking in any child worth less than a thousand points.  Still, there was nothing to stop them from doing it–at least, nothing she could legally get away with–so she showed them to the hundred-point children.

It was agony making a choice.  There were so many children there, and they were all so obviously in need of help.  But one boy, the oldest and he was probably about seven, pointed them to a tiny child who’d been very sick lately and explained that the heat in the room didn’t work very well, and so when the little ones got sick, their tiny bodies sometimes couldn’t work hard enough to keep them warm and get them better.  There was a look in his eyes that said sometimes there had been sick children who’d been eventually taken away and hadn’t been brought back.

So they took the sick child, whose name was Jakob, and gave him a home in their big, rickety farmhouse so far away from town, but they agreed.  “That’s our next child.”

Keep reading

[africanmani-deactivated20170514]

[ancorakui]

Nope, nope , nope

[lassukmiboolelunk]

it’s a trap!

[sixpenceee]

“A house I pass on the way to work has this sculpture in its yard. Its about 8 feet tall.”

(Source)

[geostatonary]

“HELLO NEIGHBOR STEVE, I WOULD LIKE TO INVITE YOU TO BARBEQUE ON THE EVE OF THE BLOOD MOON.  I FEEL WE GOT OFF TO A BAD START.”

“NEIGHBOR STEVE, DO YOU NOT WISH TO PARTAKE OF THE UNCLEAN FLESH-MEATS OF PIGS AND THE POLLUTED ESSENCES OF TOMATO?  PERHAPS YOU ARE A CAROLINA STYLE MAN, NEIGHBOR STEVE?”

“PUT THE GUN AWAY NEIGHBOR STEVE, YOU KNOW I SHALL ONLY RISE AGAIN WITH THE DAWNING OF THE MOON.  WE HAVE BEEN THROUGH THIS MANY TIMES.”

“LOOK AT THIS PICTURE MY SON DREW OF YOU AND CHILD TIMMY, YOUR SON.  ARE THEY NOT THE PICTURE OF PACT-MATES?  THIS COULD BE YOU AND ME, NEIGHBOR STEVE.”

“YOU MISSED THE UNHOLY NEXUS OF POWER THAT IS THE KEY TO MY CORPOREAL FORM, NEIGHBOR STEVE.  YOU WILL NEED TO RELOAD NOW, SO I WILL GO INSIDE TO MY HELL-WIFE AND PUT YOU DOWN AS A SOLID ‘MAYBE’.“

[erinnightwalker]

I have the feeling that the families get along great except for Steve. Like, the wives are baking (questionable) brownies together, the kids are playing together, Antler Guy occasionally takes Son and Timmy to school (no car, just carries them in huge swinging strides through a nexus of ungoldly sights in a swirling netherworld shortcut. Sometimes they stop for McDonalds). Hell-wife gave them a potted Audrey Jr., Steve’s wife (who I now christen Sharon) gave them a begonia.

One time Steve tries throwing holy water but all Antler Guy does is thank him, saying that no, Antler Guy isn’t Catholic but it’s the thought that counts, he is so kind to water his creeping deathshade vines regardless.

For Christmas Antler Guy gives Steve a case of ammunition. To be funny/sarcastically mean Steve gets Antler Guy the world’s most hideous Christmas sweater, singing light-up reindeer included. He immediately regrets it because not only does Antler Guy love it and wears it for several months, it will never need batteries because Antler Guy powers it with his own eldritch aura.

When they come back from a holiday to Hawaii, Steve is horrified to find out Sharon bought them matching Hawaiian shirts. He is even more horrified that his wife means it that if he doesn’t wear it he will forever sleep on the couch.

[erinnightwalker]

I want to expand on this, since I see it’s still passing around and the ideas have grown in my brainmeats.

What drives Steve up the wall and down the other side is how… normal… everyone treats the Abominations. (Yes, that is their last name. No, it is not a joke. Son was asked his last name for the standardized testing at school, had a quick conference with Timmy, and decided that Son Abomination sounded good, “Since my dad calls your dad the Abomination anyway and we can paint it on your mailbox just like the Henderson’s did theirs!”. Antler Guy agreed and did a lovely rendition of it for the mailbox, with only a few glyphs of soul-rending terror added to keep up to snuff.)

The Great Plant Exchange went beautifully, though the Audrey Jr. (named Aubergine for the lovely shade of purple poison that drips from her fangs) is on a diet at the moment. She was in cahoots with the cat and the dog to get into the good people food and ate two frozen turkeys all herself. Now she’s restricted to the hallway table to answer the phone and the door. (Steve actually likes her, and keeps slipping her hotdogs when Sharon isn’t looking. Their door-to-door salesman rates have dropped dramatically since she changed abodes.) Hell-wife has almost gotten the begonia to bloom and say it’s first words.

The homeowner’s association just loves the Abominations. All paperwork stamped and dotted, in on time and in triplicate. Antler Guy likes filing, says it reminds him of his old job. There is a resident who spent 20 years as a lawyer and they have long, animated conversations about all sorts of things that make Steve swear to never need legal counsel.

Hell-wife joined the PTA and spearheaded a committee to fundraise in the fall with a haunted house. It was a county-wide hit, though the claims that a particularly rowdy group had been deliberately lost in a timeslip to the Outer Doors Of Chaos was firmly rebuffed. Most young people nowadays, it was agreed, just couldn’t appreciate flute music.

Antler Guy really does try to connect with Steve. The surprise birthday party was perhaps a bit much, given that most participants do not have the ability to suddenly materialize in front of the guest of honor to give them a hug. Sharon assured them that Steve normally screams on his birthday, and the remains of the cake were heartily enjoyed by all. (A plate was saved for Steve once he came down from the treehouse.)

After the Hawaii trip (which was a present for his birthday) and the Matching Shirt Ultimatum (which was Sharon’s attempt at patching things up with Antler Guy, he really was sad about the birthday screaming), Steve finally grabs his courage in both hands (plus the shotgun, which let’s face it is about as useful as a teddybear at the moment but it does comfort him) and confronts Antler Guy, about why such a group of……Abominations could possibly come to his quiet slice of suburban bliss.

“……BUT NEIGHBOR STEVE, WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE.”

“No no no, I read it in a book! Don’t you have to be invited or something?!”

“WELL YES, TO THE HUMAN WORLD. BUT THIS IS NOT THE HUMAN WORLD AS YOUR THREE-DIMENSIONAL BRAIN PERCEIVES IT.”

“What the hell does that mean?!!”

“DID YOU NOT KNOW, NEIGHBOR STEVE? LEGALLY SPEAKING, ALL OF THE VASTNESS OF HUMAN SUBURBIA IS, IN FACT, A PART OF HELL.”

“……..”

“THE FLAMINGOES ARE THE BOUNDARY MARKERS. IT WAS DECIDED THAT THE FLAMING SKULLS WERE TOO KITSCHY FOR MODERN TIMES.”

[acaffeinejunkie-deactivated2019]

Reblogging cause I kind of want more of this….

[erinnightwalker]

Since you asked nicely ^_^

Antler Guy, as one may have noticed, is a calm sort of fellow. In the face of human atrocities he displays a curious Zen sort of state of mind. Timmy asks Son if he’d ever seen his dad angry, and Son hasn’t. (When asked, Timmy says that yeah his dad gets mad, but it’s like the Fitz-Simmon’s chihuahua down the street- mostly high-pitched noise and occasionally TV remote chewing. Sharon replaces the poor thing every 3 months or so.) When pressed (gently, at the monthly book club, and with many cups of tea and at least one daiquiri), Hellwife admits that this comes from serving many years at his old job.

After the revelation of the nature of his neighborhood, Steve has not been overtly mean to Antler Guy. Not yet in the realm of friends, but vastly better than before. No more holy water, no more shotgun blasts. (Still the occasional jumpscare, but Antler Guy really can’t help that part.) They even occasionally share news over the fence as Antler Guy trains the creeping deathshade vines in proper oral hygiene, and Steve waters his lawn (and occasionally slips a goldfish cracker to a deathshade vine that looks particularly adorable. Aubergine has trained him well.)

Which is how Antler Guy learns about the peeping tom that’s been plaguing the adjacent streets. Apparently the pervert has been getting bolder, and rattling doors. He almost broke into one apartment, whose occupants were a single mother and her daughter, Mildred. Millie, a shy girl who is a great horror fan and firm friends with Timmy and Son, had missed school because of it.

Steve knew because Sharon had told him, on her way to deliver a tuna casserole and a double batch of brownies to the pair. (Sharon has been dubbed the unoffical mob boss of the Mother’s Mafia. She is quite pleased with this title.) He tells her to wait, confers briefly with Aubergine, and sends her along with, “Only as a loan, you know, but Auby wants to stretch her roots and she’d probably like getting all ribboned and curled anyway. Little girls still do that, right?” She has strict orders to bite anyone that makes Millie or her mother cry. (Steve is dubbed the official neighborhood marshmallow for this. The bookclub buys him a jar of marshmallow fluff in commemoration.)

He turns to look at Antler Guy, and freezes, much as a chihuahua will when faced with a hungry hellhound.

“You….you alright there buddy?”

“Ň̵̴̫̫̙͙̻̞͈̫̥̪̱͈͈̯̍̀̀͆ͫ̒̿̄͗͘͡͝ͅO̊͑̑͒̎͑̃ͬͭͮ̅̔̆̃̉ͯ̇͗̀҉̵̻̜̞͉̟͙͚̻̪̼̖̀͟ͅ.̵͈̣͈̙̣̜̻̭̩̝̠̞͗ͤͥ̓͗ͬ̓̄͊̓̅̐ͩͮͧͤ̽̐ “

“Uh, yeah, I guess not. Did you, uh, know you’re kinda fuzzing at the edges, there?”

“Ň̵̴̫̫̙͙̻̞͈̫̥̪̱͈͈̯̍̀̀͆ͫ̒̿̄͗͘͡͝ͅO̊͑̑͒̎͑̃ͬͭͮ̅̔̆̃̉ͯ̇͗̀҉̵̻̜̞͉̟͙͚̻̪̼̖̀͟ͅ.̵͈̣͈̙̣̜̻̭̩̝̠̞͗ͤͥ̓͗ͬ̓̄͊̓̅̐ͩͮͧͤ̽̐ “

“Right. Um. Well.”

Steven makes a very ungraceful exit when space starts bending around Antler Guy’s still, unmoving form.

When Steve sees a shadowy form in his back yard when he gets up to pee that night, there’s no hesitation. He grabs the shotgun from the cabinet and peeks out the back door window.

Just in time to see a nebulous form of soul-wrenching terror engulf the man reaching for the door handle. A sliver of moonlight reveals a very familiar eyesocket. After a moment (and a sincere prayer of thanks that he had already peed, cause otherwise he’d have done it then and there) Steve opens the door. The nebulous form freezes, reality bending around the edges.

“Nice night for it, huh?”

“…..Y̮̮͍͔͇͙͙̟̐͌͛̓̏͞͡Eͩͭͮ̓̍ͯ̀ͧ͏̵̴̛̺̠̱͕̕ͅS͈̹̮̟̳̪̩̘͍̤̲̻͈̱̳̽̋́ͩ̃͋̎ͩ̈͆̀͘͢͢͟ͅ.̧̢͈̭̝̥̦͚͍̇ͫ̃̓͆̿̇ͪ͊ͧ̃͛͌͜͢ “

“Guy won’t scare anymore litttle girls, will he?”

“Ň̵̴̫̫̙͙̻̞͈̫̥̪̱͈͈̯̍̀̀͆ͫ̒̿̄͗͘͡͝ͅO̊͑̑͒̎͑̃ͬͭͮ̅̔̆̃̉ͯ̇͗̀҉̵̻̜̞͉̟͙͚̻̪̼̖̀͟ͅ.̵͈̣͈̙̣̜̻̭̩̝̠̞͗ͤͥ̓͗ͬ̓̄͊̓̅̐ͩͮͧͤ̽̐ “

“Good. G’night then. Oh, and if Hellwife has an extra Audrey Jr. that needs a home, let me know. Millie likes Aubergine a lot but Augy’s just too big for the apartment. Dunno if they come in miniatures though.”

“ I̴̛̟̭͉̮̜̩̬̮̣̘̰͚̩͙̟̳͔̜̙͑̂̆̆͗͒̀ ͖̖̰͉̥͖͔̙̤̺͍̳͈̹͙̣̞̇̇ͤ͒̅̈́͆̽ͧ́̚̚̕͘W̶̶̱͈̞͖̼̟̣̮̌͂͒̈́͑͌͒͋̍ͮ͗̈ͣ̓ͤ͘͟I̴̶̞̥̩͇̔ͩͦ̇̉̾ͣͬ̀̀̒͒ͧ͛͌͛͆̚͘͢ͅͅL̠̟͕̠̟̪̰̻ͯ͂͊ͥ̍̏͋̐ͬ̉̆̈̀͠L̸̞̭͔̮ͦ͑̉ͮͩ́ͬͨͣ͘͜.̴͈͎̮͇͓͖̱̻̣͊͊ͤͩ͊̑͗͞ ̸̡̩̖̞̩̻̩̪̭͙̳͚͇̟̺͖̑͊ͫ̀͆ͨ̉̔̓̂̓̋T̷̷̟͉̟̻̻̪̞̰̯̻͈̣̰̬̻̾͐́ͭ̓̅́͡H͇̬̪̩̬̝̣͍͈͇ͯ͛̏͌ͮͧͭͦ͟͜A̴̴̤͕͈̤̮̞̱̯͔͕̙͔͖̰̬̰͈̠ͥ̏ͥ̍̽ͧ̀͝N͗̓͋̃̈̑̀̅ͣ̽̒̂̄ͯͩͤ͏̢͢͏͈̯͎̪͇̟̠͔̯͓͓̰̠̱̠̳͕̳͝K̢̓ͧ͛͛ͣ̄̓̓ͯ̍̈̈́̌͂̔͟҉̛̘̥̖̤̦̻̳͙͟ ̢̢̻̥̹̣̞͉̘͇͚͍̖̯̘͚͔̗̩͓͐ͮ͂͂̀̚͘͠Y̜̞͇̳̗̬͎̰̙̜̩̪͎̞̙̠̔͂̌̃́̀O͇̺̲͙͍̬̳̘͈̱̜̝͔̖̊ͥ̿ͫͤͫͫͩ͋̓̃ͦ̈̄͢͟Ū̢͖̲̦̠̤͎̙͉̦͖̖͓͍̺̺ͪͯ͐͆͆ͭͯ͗ͦ̄̅̌̈̃̾ͭ̋ͧ͢͢͠͡.̶̸̞͓̞̹̗̻̣͈͕̠̬̦ͫ̆ͤͬͨͦ͒͂ͨ̿ͩͪ͘͞.ͧ͛̒̂̂͗ͨ̌͆ͥͭ͒̉͘͜͏̙͖̰̝̙̲͓̙͕͍̥̳̩́͠.̶̷̮͎̱̼̬͖̰͎͚͙̥̓͋͋ͦ̓̓ͯ͆͛̏ͫ̅ͯ.̨̧̙̤̳̮̺̙͖̞͔̗͎͍̑̆ͮ͐ͩͦ̌̽̾̏͘͠.̹̖͕̮͕̞̰͍͚͖̌ͪ̃̐̐̌̌̅̉͑ͧͪͪͬ̓͐́͛̿͘͞ ….NEIGHBOR STEVE.”

“Anytime.”

There are no more peeping reports. Millie brings back Aubergine and spends an entire afternoon teaching Steve the particulars of Augy’s new “hairstyle” (a gravity-defying mass of teased tendrils, ribbons, and barrettes) in between games of tag and hide-and-seek with Timmy and Son.

When Antler Guy and Hellwife present her and her mother Beatrice with a tiny Audrey Jr. (”pOOr ThinG Is a ruNT And wOn’T geT MorE Than A FooT taLL, BEa, aNd NeeDS a New FRiEnD”, assures Hellwife), both mother and child burst out crying. Millie names it Bella, after Bella Lugosi, and shows it to the excited group of boys (Steve and Augy included).

[ripped-up-jeans-and-glitter]

IT GOT SO MUCH BETTER!!!!

[erinnightwalker]

Life in a subdivision partly populated with eldritch and possibly magical (officially classified as “extra-dimensional”, for even when faced with the physics-defying nature of their new co-habitating citizens the government cannot bring itself to acknowledge them as “magic wielding hell-beasts”, as some high-ranking staff members initially suggested) goes on fairly normally.

Sure, there are a few hiccoughs. The creeping deathshade vines get a stern talking to about appropriate afternoon snacks (”NOT the Fitz-Simmon’s chihuahua, I don’t care how much he has it coming or what he excreted where, now spit it out!”), Aubergine sheds all her leaves at once and snowballs the house (but does helps sweep up afterwards), and moonrise is a good time to watch the night-gaunts fly by (but on moondark it’s best to stay inside, no matter how prettily they glow. They’re somewhat similar to fireflies, and don’t always check to see if their partner glows as well. It wouldn’t be as much of a problem if they didn’t dive mid-coitus and drop just above the ground.)

While the neighborhood in general is accepting of the Abominations, when things get to be a bit much they tend to come to Steve. Since meeting Beatrice and Millie (and the formation of the Terrifying Triad known as Millie, Son, and Timmy) Steve is the adult human male most comfortable dealing with Antler Guy on the whole street. (Sharon as U.M.B. is widely held to have, well, steel-whatever-the-hell-she-wants, and Timmy is known to run over to Antler Guy and ask for rides through “that wobbly grey place, you know, the one with the REALLY BIG alligators?”. Still, the courtesies must be observed.)

So when a writhing sparking ball of snarling terror and teeth takes up residence in the Manzo’s tool-shed, and when Animal Control refuses to come (the street is banned due to a run-in with the deathshade vines), Steve is called. Having heard the description, Steve brings Antler Guy.

When they get there, Mr. Manzo is forcibly holding the door shut. Unholy yowling is coming from inside. At a gesture from Antler Guy, Mr. Manzo leaps away, and the doors blast open.

A 150 pound ball of whimpering, flaming something hits Steve and knocks him on his ass. The whimpering, flaming something proceeds to slobber all over Steve, his shirt, his pants, and a decent portion of grass in between distressed yelps.

“GACK!”

“NEIGHBOR STEVE, ARE YOU IN DISTRESS?”

“GAAACKLEARGHSPLUH- DOWN boy, HEEL, that’s a good- Antler Guy, what is this?!”

“I BELIEVE IT IS A HELLHOUND, NEIGHBOR STEVE.”

“Good grief, I didn’t know they came this big and…..and….. Guy?”

“YES NEIGHBOR STEVE?”

“Is he supposed to be…..skinless?”

“YES NEIGHBOR STEVE. THIS VARIETY WAS BRED TO BE LAP DOGS. THEIR FLAME IS MOSTLY WITHOUT HEAT, AND THEY HAVE NO SKIN FOR THOSE WHO ARE ALLERGIC.”

“…….laPDOG?!”

“YES NEIGHBOR STEVE.” Antler Guy lays a hand on the hellhound, who tries to burrow further into Steve with little success. “HE APPEARS TO HAVE BEEN RECENTLY WEANED. IT WILL TAKE TIME FOR HIM TO GROW TO HIS FULL SIZE.”

“……”

“THE SMALL BREEDS GROW MORE SLOWLY.”

A vile hissing emanates from the shed. (Mr. Manzo has long since fled for the safety of his kitchen.) As Steve attempts to calm the frantic hell-puppy, Antler Guy investigates. He reaches one long hand in behind the riding lawnmower and….. winces.

“NEIGHBOR STEVE?”

“Yeah- I’m right here, uh, doggie, not going anywhere- Guy?”

“I APPEAR TO HAVE AN…. ATTACHMENT.”

Steve is awed at the tiny ball of white fluff attached to one long, thin finger. He didn’t know that Antler Guy’s fingers COULD be bitten, much less by a tiny kitten.

Which is how Steve and Sharon got Clifford (”Aww c’mon Sharon, how could I pass that one up?”), and Antler Guy and Hellwife get Fluffy (”NEIGHBOR STEVE ASSURES ME IT IS A TRADITIONAL TITLE.”)

[othersideofforty]

This might be the most amazing thing that ever crossed my tumblr dash

[karacat]

OMIGOSH I’m in love.

[telesilla]

This just keeps getting better and better.