#best paranormal evidence

[ghouldtime]

Ghost'ed

Been thinking about literal Ghost! Ghost. Maybe it's playing too many ghost hunting games or watching too many shows but I cannot stop thinking about it. You also cannot convince me this man wouldn't be a restless spirit. His entire life is troubled and I don't see him going down in a peaceful way or leaving until he feels the job is done - and likely ending up trapped as a result

I wrote this at work so sorry in advance for any typos or slip ups!

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Ghost hunting wasn’t exactly what most people would list in "Top ten relaxing hobbies" - but it's not like you were most people. You were simply you. The same you who thought spending your time speculating about spooky specters was one of the best ways to pass by those few stretches of free time that could be all too fleeting in the hellscape known as adulthood.

The stares that followed you when you announced paranormal investigation as a hobby was something you knew all too well. After all, telling someone you’re a ghost hunter only stood as a slightly more socially acceptable version of telling them you believed in bigfoot (you did, but that’s beside the point). The dozens of cheesy TV shows certainly popularized it but they did little to help with the perception of it.

When the face of popular ghost hunting media was full of grown men who screamed like a squirrel high on helium at every little thump of a house settling, it did little to help what people automatically thought of when they heard of your unique hobby. Plenty still turned their noses up, scoffed slightly as they rolled their eyes and sneered, “Aren’t you too old to be doing that?” 

Or worse. They gave a tight-lipped smile, nodded, and crinkled their eyes as they said, "Oh, interesting." While the tension in their body told of holding back laughter or wanting to bolt right on out of there, far far away from you.

Quite frankly, you didn't care what they said anymore as it was your life to live, not theirs. You’d seen enough to know without a fraction of a doubt that there was more beyond the veil of life itself, hiding just out of sight. The hundreds of hours you spent wandering dark hallways and dilapidated ruins with nothing but your flashlight and ghost box proved otherwise. At least it proved it to you.

Proving it to others was a horse of another color. Skeptics who spit their criticism loud enough to deafen even the most positive prevalent of voices in the community were a dime a dozen. Unfortunately, their existence was as certain as the sky is blue. Skepticism was apart of human nature, after all. They would always exist as long as the day and night kept up their eternal dance.

Convincing them was a fruitless effort. You'd sooner be able to convince hippos to fly than you'd convince them of the truth you knew. Trying to get everyone to agree, to acknowledge the paranormal, was hopeless and something you certainly weren't going to waste your life on no matter what they called your or what they said.

As far as you were concerned, being paid to sit in the dark alone and find evidence of life beyond the grimy waters of death itself was a pretty sweet gig. The naysayers could seethe in their own jealousy all they wanted because at the end of the day, you’re getting paid to do what you love. That they never could take away from you.

They'd never be able to have the same thrill that you did as you took on another case, ready to see even more of what the phantasmal realm had to offer.

Anticipation, nervousness, and excitement rolled together in a palpable energy you hid beneath a calmer exterior every time you took a job. There always would be that wonder there, the question of what exactly you might find dangling just out of reach, the hope that maybe, just maybe you might see even more than you already have. Another chance to investigate meant yet another night spent lurking in the shadows, tirelessly trying to find more evidence of the great world beyond the grave and its inhabitants. Tonight certainly would be no different.

An older couple quite reluctantly booked an appointment for a standard investigation after mysterious things that they really could not explain, no matter how they went about it, happened time and time again. They'd tried to ignore it, they said, but it only got worse.

Footsteps that echoed through the house at first in a gentle patter had become confident strides. When they went to look, no one was there. Doors that used to slowly creak open, as if blown by the wind, instead started to rattle the frame with force as they opened or slammed in the middle of the night. The husband looked particularly miffed when he groused about the TV going on at odd hours of the night, while his wife seemed more concerned about the possibility of someone having broken in and the fact that it kept doubling in intensity as time went on. The list went on and on about their complaints ranging from things being moved around to always finding a light turned on in a room in the middle of the night. There most certainly was something going on if all of what they were saying was true.

The glaring parade of red flags that easily would send others running for the hills lured you in. Like a dog with a scent, you weren't going to drop the trail, oh no. You were there to sink your teeth and claws in and not let go. Come hell, heaven, or high water - nothing would stopping you.

True to your title, you were a paranormal investigator which warranted a lot more work and professionalism than the standard ghost hunters you saw on TV who couldn't tell the difference between a gust of wind and a ghost. Your job was to research, conduct a proper paranormal investigation, and provide your evidence - or lack of, if it was truly devoid of haunting. But here hardly sounded like it.

Taking your time and reassuring them that you were, indeed, a professional, you went over all the usual questions with them: when did this start, how old is your house, any history of deaths in it, have you acquired any new items recently, do you have any items that were second hand or antique, any family heirlooms in the house, was it in any particular location, etc etc.

Every angle had to be considered, especially the mundane. Plenty of times, people just had a poorly constructed house, deeply held superstitions, and a touch of paranoia to make for a perfect combination of nothing happening at all. That didn’t seem to be the case here, however. While none of their answers pointed in a clear direction of what it might be, it still all pointed to signs of something unworldly happening. But that's what you were there for. To determine if there actually was a ghost, why it was there, and maybe who it was (if things went well and it felt like cooperating). 

You bid them a good night as they headed off with family friends in a beat up convertible, chattering away without a care in the world as if they didn’t have a paranormal parasite problem. At least they were going to go enjoy their night by having an evening out instead of breathing down your neck like some of those who hired you. Locking the door, you trudged in with your gear and began the initial inspection with practiced ease.

A haunting in a house as young and modern as theirs was quite unusual. Open, airy rooms completed with white, sleek, almost eye-hurtingly clean interiors made up the entirety of the house. Even as night crawled higher and higher into the sky, pulling its dark cloak over the land, the house stayed bright. Nothing about it said haunted or caught your eye. The scariest thing there was likely the heating bill. 

As far as your research showed, there hadn't been a death in it or on the land. The owners also seemed quite appalled at the idea of antiques (go figure) so that went right out the window, too. Normally there might be some stashed somewhere that they weren't thinking about, like the attic, but this house didn’t even have that. No basement, no attic, no creepy graveyard in the back; it was a normal, suburban house that shouldn’t have anything going on.

Perusing the house at a leisurely pace, you browsed each and every room with a thorough consciousness of finding something, anything, that could possibly have started it. Yet you turned up empty handed. Everything was as pure and alabaster as the marble countertops and the expensive sleek metal furniture. 

Oh well, not every job would be easy. And not every haunted house was obligated to look run-down and rustic. Some ghosts just had more upper class tastes - or were unfortunate enough to be stuck in an eyesore like this. Maybe a ghost would add some actual personality to their home...

Seeing as they'd said there wasn't exactly a rhyme or reason as to where things would happen, you decided a central room was your best bet. The living room was open enough for everything and an easy place any spirits could find. It had plenty of room for your equipment and the open layout meant you had a great vantage point for the whole house.

Preparing your gear came as naturally as breathing to you, the tasks you've done dozens of times over were a matter of habit. Moving through the motions was your second nature as you worked, not batting an eye as you checked batteries and strategically stationed your gear. It only took a matter of minutes to have your cameras, light system, motion activated interactable objects, ghost box, and the rest of your fancy gadgets set up all around the room.

Placed on the coffee table was your heaviest piece of equipment - your modified spirit box that you had made some special adjustments to just to make sure your results were as accurate as possible. The broken antenna and attached amp weren't standard, nor were the noise reducers, but they stood as a testament to why you were a professional and why you kept getting called out to different places. You knew how to get results and tuned every tiny thing to your needs. There was no room for error or doubt alike in an already uncertain field.

Double checking everything was ready to go once more once more, you plunged the room into somewhat true darkness as you drew the curtains shut and pressed the button on the spirit box, causing it to crackle to life. Speeding through the static of radio stations, it scanned the many frequencies in a blur, far too fast for any natural noise to come through. The whirring of it evened out into a constant, muffled background noise that you’d spent countless hours listening to. Its familiar hum lulled you into a relaxed state, your heart as steady as your calm breaths despite the slight buzz of familiar adrenaline you always felt when you first started. A small beep signaled the successful activation of the digital thermometer as you walked around in a slow, even pace, checking all around. 

Taking a deep breath, you began as you always had. In a confident, but even tone you called out, “Is there anyone with me right now?”

....

........

Silence.

The static of the spirit box continued to filter through in its usual constant churning hum of white noise. Typical. Many supernatural beings wouldn't want to interact, especially not at first. You don't blame them. If a stranger barged into your house and demanded if you were there, pestering you with questions as threw their belongings around, you'd not want to answer them either. That wasn’t even considering that many were so unused to people hearing them or trying to talk to them, not at them. They didn't exactly register on the same frequency that humans did most of the time.

Walking around the room, your boots echoed on the tile flooring. Your footsteps ricocheted off of the high ceilings, amplified by the lofty ceiling and wonderful acoustics this house apparently had. Keeping your attention ever shifting, you kept alert for signs of anything happening. Looking too long in the dark and expecting things to happen would only yield false results and cause paranoia. You knew far better than to do that. 

Nothing lit up, nothing beeped, nothing changed. There was conclusively nothing happening for the first few, long minutes as everything kept at an unwavering constant. Visiting each room, you rechecked their temperatures and tried to find anything amiss or out of place. Yet all seemed well, still, and normal.

Only when you crossed the hallway back into the living room after a quick visit to the bedrooms did your hair stand on end. A chill ran down your spine, the once warm air now holding the barest bite of cold on the edge. Holding up the thermometer, you narrowed your eyes at the steady decrease. While it wasn't quite freezing, it kept dropping and dropping. Numbers ticked lower and lower, your hair stood further on end as a small shiver ran through you as the chill dipped lower and lower. Bingo. First sign of activity of the night. It wasn’t much but it was plenty to know that something was happening here.

Despite the crisp chill, nothing else shifted in the room. Silence prevailed behind the distant drone of your equipment; mainly the comforting, steady typical static of the spirit box. Even the appliances seemed to have gone quiet, exchanging their usual low thrumming rhythm for a break that suspended them in a noiseless limbo.

Your shifting movements echoed far louder than you would have liked as you paced around the room, looking for something new, anything. An actual tangible reaction you could record would be just what you needed but so far, the haunt was holding out.  “What is your name?” You asked, keeping your voice as steady as you can as you tried to switch it up. 

Continual feedback from the spirit box sounded as steady as can be. Still, there was no voice trying to get through it. The fabricated noise reigned supreme as it did its job, whirring away. Pressing your lips into a thin line, the smallest hint of a frown tugged at your lips as disappointment flickered through you. Okay, that's fine. It usually took a few tries anyways. 

A faint, sparkling crackle escaped from it as you heard one, tiny word in a rumbling timbre. One, single word that halted you mid step, your head snapping towards the machine. 

“Ghost.”

Doing a double take, a grin split across your face as your heart jumped with joy. A response! A true, actual response. Not that it exactly answered your question but it meant something was listening.

There was something here!

Nearly tripping over your own feet, you scampered over to your beloved machine. Your eyes fixated on the glowing orange screen, gleaming with glee. 

“W-what’s your name?” You repeat a bit louder unable to hide the excited tremble in your voice or hands, figuring the ghost likely didn't hear you right. 

Static white noise continued for a few seconds, the little x in the corner flashed once, twice, before it lit up solidly. 

“Ghost.”

The smile you held dropped only for a fraction of a second before you cleared your throat. Well, maybe your slight stutter and excitement got in the way. You did talk fast when excited, after all. Taking a deep breath, undeterred as can be, you repeated in a far steadier voice, “What is your name?”

This time you made sure to enunciate every single syllable, speaking clear and confidently into the air. 

One flashing X glowed in the corner of the screen. Another flash. A third. Fourth. Fifth.

Yet again, the deep voice came a bit louder and rougher this time. A thick Mancunian accent that barely picked up through the filter didn't dull the single word you were trying to avoid, “Ghost.”

Okay. Your brows furrowed deeper, your nose wrinkling slightly as your heart sank. The minor disappointment couldn't be kept off of your face as you really had hoped to hear something else. Approach one clearly isn't working. 

Maybe he didn't speak English. Or maybe he wasn't sure that he was dead. Whatever. There was a ghost and he was answering, that's what mattered, you reminded yourself forcefully until the smile came back to your face and the smallest bit of a headache dissipated. Focus on that. Not on the slight annoyance you felt and the agitated twitch of your fingers.

Exhaling, you pursed your lips. Your grip retightened on your flashlight as you racked through questions in your mind, trying to find something that it would have to answer differently too. 

“Can you do something?”

Hopeful, your eyes trailed around the room, praying that maybe the ghost would do something like interact with the many objects scattered about, or even the motion sensors. 

Nothing happened for a few long moments, silence once again prevailing in the otherwise empty house.

Orange light flashed from the spirit box as the X lit up again, only for a second before the dreaded word repeated itself. 

“Ghost.”

Before you could ask what that even meant, or curse it out for that matter, the spirit box and your flashlight shut off, plunging you into true darkness. The flashlight nearly flew from your hands in surprise as you flinched instinctually, your heart leaping into your throat. Frantically flickering the button of your trusty tool did nothing as you desperately tried to turn on your one source of light with the only way you knew how - only to be met with the continual sight of empty, non-shining bulbs. 

Curses spilled from your lips in all the languages you knew as you fumbled for a battery pack, only to find them missing. What? But you swore that they were right there -- ugh, nevermind. This just wasn't going to be your night.

The initial panic subsided as the chill left the air, the residual regular warmth of the house sinking into the room as if blown in by a lazy breeze. Your hair still stood on end as you walked around with cautious, hesitant steps, having given up on the flashlight. There wasn't coming back from that.

It's only when you approached the spirit box, trying to turn it on to no avail, that you realized what he meant. You asked him to do something and he obliged.

He ghosted you. 

God fucking damn it. 

As you glared at the air in frustration, threw your hands up and personally cursed the fiend, you could've sworn you heard a resonating chuckle behind you as breath brushed against the nape of your neck in a way that sent shivers down your spine for a whole new reason.

Part Two

[inamindfarfaraway]

Evidence that Hazel Wells is autistic:

She loves routine, needs it to feel secure and adjusts poorly to changes from what she knows and her plan, e.g. her stress from moving to a new city and school, struggling to form bonds with her classmates and not having her promised talk with Anthony driving her to run away and be miserable enough to qualify for fairy godparents; wanting to replicate her relationship with her brother with Jasmine; learning how to deal with them both having evolved when he visits; her gut instinct itself says that a tour meticulously structured in advance is her dream holiday and urges her to follow her godparents’ offered one of Fairy World

She has special interests in geology, horror movies, dinosaurs and Prime Meridian Love (and hats?), not just loving them intensely and expressing that through learning and sharing intimate knowledge of them, but using them to understand and navigate relationships, e.g. wanting to watch horror films with Jasmine because that’s her definition of a bonding activity from her routine with Antony; inviting her friends to a book club reading her manga as another bonding activity; wishing Kenueth to life to do a romantic-coded activity; naming her rocks, drawing faces on them and talking to them, possibly originating in a history of having few friends

Her fairies’ default object disguise form is a pair of fidget tools and their entire purpose is to give her what she wants

She frequently feels anxious and overthinks things, especially regarding social dynamics, e.g. her fear of Anthony forgetting about her while he’s away; getting overwhelmed by her peers in the cafeteria in “Teacher’s Pal”, fleeing and needing to steel herself simply to enter it at the end of the episode, not even planning to talk to anyone; being desperate to impress Winn and worrying that her home is inadequate for her standards, on a basis of nothing Winn has done; worrying that her geology presentation will be inadequate and wishing for a special stone; choosing to undergo countless time loops to try to avoid any embarrassment; worrying that an online quiz invalidates her close friendships

She nonetheless is said to be “mature” for her age in both “Fly” and “Teacher’s Pal” by Angela and herself

She has extremely high empathy despite not always easily understanding people, e.g. wishing to understand Dev; making selfless wishes on Founder’s Day whenever she sees unhappy kids; enabling Winn to experience their own interest in Patty Possum’s Party Playground the way they want and then empathizing with Patty about fearing abandonment and still loving people when they’re not around; continuing to be kind to Dev at the Dimmsonian and in “Best of Luck” after he twice reverts back to selfishness and malice and believes their friendship to be over; wishing for Marcus to get to be on a paranormal investigation TV show

She has a strong sense of justice, e.g. being so affected by learning about pollution that she starts a local environmentalist movement; vehemently opposing Dale’s corruption; rallying her friends to stand up to Vicky; angrily lashing out at Dev when she thinks or learns that he’s betrayed her

She can take things too literally or lack theory of mind, e.g. getting offended by Jasmine saying that she could dance alone “near” her partnered friends and holding that grudge for most of the episode; jumping to the conclusions that Dev is insulting her when he calls her “anomaly” and he was willingly, knowingly helping his father be evil; leaving him alone when he orders her to on his birthday rather than questioning if what he says he wants is what he actually wants or needs, since he’s clearly distraught and she knows that his issues revolve around abandonment, neglect and loneliness

She can disregard social norms when consumed by passion, e.g. interrupting the museum guide to share her own knowledge of dinosaurs and grabbing his microphone; infodumping about the plot of her manga in detail after Jasmine tells her not to; stealing Mr Guzman’s hat just because she likes it so much

She has emotional breakdowns that lead to drastic, bad decisions and could be read as meltdowns, e.g. packing a suitcase and running away; remorsefully attempting to sacrifice her life to restore potatoes to Earth

She loves official documents and finds the Department of Motor Vehicles relaxing for its rigid structure and monotony

She samefoods with chips/fries and other potato products, so passionate about them as to mention them when introducing herself to her classmates and have a whole episode dedicated to her wanting to eat only them; this is a notable choice because chips have a mild, neutral base flavour, are often standardized by producers like restaurant chains and served with the same condiments, making their eating experience predictable (and she isn’t shamed for being a ‘picky eater’! Her parents and Mother Nature say that it’s wonderful that she finds so much joy in potatoes and gently convince her to give her body what else it needs too)

She also hates trail mix for being “chaotic” with all its different flavours mixed together, and firmly prefers oatmeal cookies to normal cookies

Autism is genetic and her father likewise exhibits several autistic traits

She considers Jasmine casually striking up a conversation with a stranger and singing in public without self-consciousness to make her courageous, no matter what other fears she has

She continues to think of herself as “the new kid” for a good few months post-move and feels the internal need to prove her belonging in Dimmadelphia on Founder’s Day

She can’t comprehend how and why arbitrary, pointless social rivalries like the one between the band and orchestra groups exist

She repeatedly wishes for fantastical roleplaying adventures with her godparents, which give her excitement without stress or loss of control, as the stakes aren’t real and she always wins in the end (the “plot twist” we see Wanda add is the return of a villain from a previous adventure, still drawing on comfortable familiarity)

She has no interest in seeing more of Fairy World until Dev brings it up, strange for such a curious girl who adores her fairies - maybe out of aversion to an unknown, unpredictable setting?

When surrounded by clones of herself and asked to raise her hand if she’s real, she hesitates because she isn’t sure and doesn’t want to “deprive the real Hazel of being herself”, demonstrating high empathy, self-doubt and existential overthinking all at once; Wanda says, “Only the real Hazel would overthink whether she was real or not!”

I’m autistic and I relate to her enough to know

[sharkboywrites]

please, a sal fisher x autistic male reader

ur writing is so good and I wish I could write like you. lots of love! <3

Sal Fisher With an Autistic Male S/O

A/N: Yayyy writing for Sally Face I love this game sm, I'm considering replaying it (I need to but it on my switch tho). I just love this game and all of the characters, it holds my heart, so exited to write for it, Sorry it got a lil angsty at the end, but I guess we all know how the game ends :(

Male Reader, Autistic Reader

The two of you probably met through school

You were the 'weird" quiet kid, didn't talk a lot, needed some help in class, and all around didn't have many friends

It was the average school day, the average torture of high school, when Sal showed up

A new kid from New Jersey is what you overheard from all the other kids, but you figured with your luck a new student wouldn't take any type of interest in you

That was until you saw him

A shorter boy with blue hair and a prosthetic mask

He was in your geometry class, and since the rest of the desks and tables were filled up, except for yours because you wanted to sit by yourself and nobody else wanted to sit with you, he sat right next to you

Normally the popular groups of kids would beg the new student to sit with them, find some way to open up a seat, but not this time

But not with Sal, his prosthetic mask and rather cold and blunt demeanor putting everybody else off

Not you though, you knew what it was like to be different

You didn't mind his mask, or his personality, in fact you could relate to him, not that you started talking to him at first, you were still too scared

As the year went on, the two of you did start talking a little bit, chats about the lessons, how much you despised the teacher, and even giving each other the homework answers when you forgot to do it

You saw him in the hallways and on the way to lunch, hanging out with his friends like Larry and Ash, but you never joined them

You would probably sit with them at lunch, that is if you went to lunch

The cafeteria was way to loud, so you were able to sit in the counselors office for lunch instead

It was after Sal defended you from Travis that you actually started to become closer

The two of you talked more often, found you both have similar interests, and bonded on what made the both of you different from everybody else

You even started to get closer with his friend group and finally felt like you belonged there

It was in your junior year when the two of you got together, although you kept it under the radar for obvious reasons (Travis)

You'd spend days going over to the apartment, meeting his dad, listening to him play the guitar, petting Gizmo, playing video games, and doing the usual spooky apartment activities

You never really got into their shenanigans, sometimes Sal would tell you all about them and sometimes he would be more hesitant

But the whole bologna incident was hard to hide, good thing you never ate those sandwiches

It took a while before he took his mask off in front of you, but when he did he was a bit worried you'd leave him completely

It took a lot of reassuring and comforting that day, but he was more assured and felt a lot better, more comfortable around you

After high school you didn't live together, but you were still close

You'd come over to the boy's place as often as you could, to the point they joked that you lived there

Larry and Todd would poke fun of you and Sal about your relationship, but you would do the same to Todd and Neil

When Ash showed back up, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy with the time they were spending together, although you trust the both of them and would probably never admit it

Of course, with Sal doing his best to keep you out of the paranormal activity, you didn't know when things started to go down hill

When it came out about the murders, you were terrified

You testified up and down that Sal would never do such a thing, but the evidence was all there

Before he was gone, he told you that he had to do it, although you couldn't really understand what he was trying to say

And just like that, you were alone again, people constantly bugging you, trying to get information for whatever true crime podcast they were running, even though you tried to ignore it

Once again you were alone, constantly pointed and poked at, and now Sal wasn't here to comfort you

Uggh I hurt my own feelings at the end. I heard there's supposed to be a second game at some point, which I'm super exited for, ty for reading and have a nice day

[poppysicle]

After best friend’s, Adrien and Marinette’s, ghost hunting Youtube channel blows up in popularity, they decide to expand their search for haunted places to the states.

The Chat Noir Crew will check out the most haunted places in the United States, will they be able to find evidence of paranormal activity in America (and their own feelings)?

Inspired by @art-the-f-up’s bugfeed unsolved au that i so dearly LOVE

this is my current baby rn if you like the concept, pls read it ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

That with mark and alternative Y/n was so adorable!!! :0

May i request like the aftermath headcanons? Like Mark begins to trust alternative Y/n and sees them now as his Guardian “Angel” and they become a duo! him bragging around school catching others attention like adam and Jonah? :3

Aw thanks! I'm glad you liked it! Also we're calling this an AU where "all the victims are besties and attend the same school"

If y'all wanna read the prequel it's here!!!!!

.................

Mark had prayed all his life for a guardian angel.

Never did he think one would come as an Alternate, of all things.

But...how else could he describe you?

Ever since that night, you've kept your promise to protect him, keeping him safe from the others who wanted to prey on his loss of faith and hope.

It still took a while for him to fully trust you, though, getting jumpy whenever he spots you in the corner when he's about to sleep or hears your voice all of the sudden.

And of course his nightmares have gotten 10x worse, but you're always there to comfort him.

The worst ones are where you sell him out to your "Savior", though those eventually faded.

You only went into hiding when Thatcher visited his house for a wellness check after his school's receptionist got concerned with his prolonged absence.

He didn't give away the fact you were still present, but did report his encounters with the other hostile Alternates, allowing the lieutenant to collect evidence.

Once Mark is determined not to show any M.A.D symptoms, he's okay enough to go back to school, where you still watch over him regularly.

Alternates haven't found a way to infiltrate schools yet, but you didn't wanna take any chances.

From your observations, you learn that he's quite the shy/loner kid, sometimes getting teased by others for his personality alone.

You also learned that Cesar usually rushed to his defense...but with him gone, Mark was pretty much on his own now.

One day, he's drawing you during class. But when the teacher left the room for a minute, some jerk snatched his "Reassurances" notebook and made fun of him in front of everyone.

He managed to get it back, but he hid in the bathroom during lunchtime and cried for a while until you appeared in the mirror and asked what's wrong.

Long story short, you gave the bully M.A.D later that night and left them to their fate (spoiler: they were part of the 3% who lived, unfortunately, but they dropped out of school).

Mark's not one to condone this kind of thing from you, but....you actually did him a huge favor by getting rid of them. They've bullied him for years--ever since the day he shared that "scary night" story back in elementary, in fact, and they never let it go.

With them gone, he becomes a bit more confident in himself, eventually telling his friends about how an Alternate actually helped him.

Ofc seldom few actually believe him, though it definitely caught the attention of Adam, Jonah, Sarah, and Evelin.

They're trying to get a paranormal/ghost-hunting club established and think it would be neat to have a friendly Alternate as their mascot and/or helper.

They are surprised when Mark agrees to join, considering he used to say it was "demonic" and didn't want anything to do with the club--but you've changed his perspective.

Obviously they don't want any authority figures getting word of an Alternate hanging around the school, so they do their best to talk to you in secret, learning how you helped their friend that night and why you're so benevolent towards innocent humans.

Sarah and Jonah are lowkey nervous interacting with you (Sarah bc her brother nearly died thanks to the actions of two other members of your kind, and Jonah bc he's skittish around all things scary).

If anyone trusts you, though, it's Mark.

[buckysbvtch3]

and they were roommates

Summary: You come home from work and hear roommate Eddie on the phone saying some…interesting things about you.

eddie munson x reader

masterlist

You’d spend the whole day working at the local coffee shop and to say you were relieved to get home was an understatement.

It’s not that you hated your job, it was just super draining. Hawkins had its upsides and downsides, and unfortunately, your job as a barista meant you dealt with both.

After high school finished and you all decided to put the paranormal events of the past behind you, you and Eddie had decided to move into a little apartment together.

It wasn’t the most luxurious of living spaces, that was for sure, but it did the job.

Eddie needed his own space after the upside down as well, which meant that although he loved Wayne, he decided to move out. Your and Eddie’s plans had been the same so moving out together was pretty much a given, considering you were both short on money as well.

Eddie worked mornings and some nights at the car workshop meaning you didn’t actually get to spend that much time together given the conflicting schedules.

Your lack of savings on both parts had also meant that an interesting compromise had to be made… the was only one bedroom.

While Eddie had continuously insisted on sleeping on the couch, there was no way you’d ever allow it—and besides, you two were friends so there was no reason for it to be awkward…

Dumping your bag on the couch and locking the door behind you, you listened out for any indication of Eddie’s presence. He said he’d be home when you finished but you got let off early today as it wasn’t busy.

“Honey I’m home!” You jokingly drawled out as you made your way to the bedroom. You two had always had flirty banter.

The sound of Eddie’s music reached your ears as you got closer to the door but you stopped at the sound of his voice.

Who was he talking to?

You’re curiosity got the best of you as you rested your ear against the door.

I don’t know how much longer I can do it, man. It’s fucking terrible—it’s like—I don’t know. It’s just so fucking frustrating. I don’t think I can like this much longer man, she drives me crazy.

Who was he talking to?

More importantly, who was she?

You couldn’t help but feel your heart crack just a little bit. Sure you’d decided as soon as the living arrangement begun to put your feelings behind you but it was hard considering you spent every night with his body heat taunting the whole side of your body. It’s was cruel.

Its fucking cruel dude, I think I have to move out. I can’t live with her anymore.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you put your hand on knob of the door ready to confront him. If he had such a problem with you why hadn’t you ever realised. Why hadn’t he ever said anything?

God, and the clothes she wears! Those little pyjama shorts need to be burned—It’s like the universe is against me! How the fuck am I supposed to not be heard twenty-four-fucking-seven?! It’s a curse, man. You gotta help me out here, I don’t know what to do.

Oh my god…

This was news to you, that’s for sure. Even with such obvious evidence of Eddie’s attraction being right in front of you, you had your reserves.

Okay, yes he was attracted to you…but was that the extent of his feelings for you?

You weren’t sure if that would be worse or better than him feeling nothing.

The silence between his last words told you the other person was speaking, but what were they saying? You pressed closer to the door and a loud groan of the hinge gave you away.

Panicking, you jolted back towards the door, picking up your bag as if you’d just got in the door. “Home!”

You heard some loud shuffling and Eddie clearing his throat before a wide, slightly panicked, smile took over his face.

“Hey Angel, how was work?”

Those pet names were going to be the end of you. Eddie had always been a gentleman, but he never called any of the other girls in the group the same pet names he uses for you and it was confusing and frustrating.

Was he just being polite? Did he think you two were closer than he was with the others? You’d hoped so considering you lived together but the conversation you overheard definitely is making you question all of the things you’d previously brushed off as Eddie being, well, Eddie.

A tilt of his head made you realise you’d been staring and that you’d waiting too long before answering his question. Your cheeks immediately reddened as you snapped out of it.

“It was good! Jo let me off early because it was quiet… not like I get many tips when it’s quiet anyways,” you managed to get out, now recovered from your previous fluster.

“Well that’s good then doll, can’t have you working that pretty head of yours too hard anyways. Too good for that place. Too smart.”

You’d already had this conversation with Eddie about applying for scholarships numerous times. He urged you to, knowing you’d get them but you don’t want to leave your life behind.

“Yeah yeah… I know.”

You went into the room while Eddie waited on the lounge room as you got changed. It was routine for you two. Practically second nature. You couldn’t help but wish he’d walk in one time and finally make a move after all these years. The tension was frustrating and you’d always wondered if you could push him over the edge. Your doubt had always stopped you, but after hearing what he’d said you couldn’t help but wonder if there was…more to his feelings.

Your desire overtook the logical side of your brain as you saw your shortest frilly pyjama set. You usually reserved your little singlet and short sets for actual nighttime, respecting your and Eddie’s minimal boundaries, but you were feeling brave tonight.

Slipping it on and checking out yourself in the mirror, you smiled. You did look amazing in this set. If you were eddie you’d probably be hard too. You had to stop from getting ahead of yourselves. Pushing doubt and embarrassment aside, you walked out asking if eddie wanted to get takeout.

You pretending like you didn’t see the way his eyes practically bulged out of his skull as he saw you, seating yourself at the coffee table and opening your draw of menus you two had collected from around town. Leaning over, you’d definitely given him a bit of a glimpse down your top.

He cleared his throat harshly and sat across from you. “Yeah, sure—whatever you want sweetheart, we can pop on a movie as well.”

By the time the pizza had arrived you two were about half an hour into Scream. You had suggested it, knowing it was Eddie’s favourite movie. And tonight was about,well—him, to put it lightly.

It’s not like you wanted to torture the poor boy, but you were hoping that in your efforts he’d snap. Tonight was the last night you were pushing aside your feelings, you’d decided. Even if all he wanted was to bone you, you’d decided you’d tell him how you felt anyways, it was only right. Besides, you knew Eddie wasn’t really that sort of guy, sure you knew he’d slept around a little after high school, but so had you. It was no secret. It’s not like you could exactly hide your private life that well considering you slept in the same bed.

Not that you’d ever brought back anyone to the apartment, but neither had Eddie. It was just a given. It was one of the things you’d liked most about Eddie. He’d always respected you and your space, knowing you’d respect his.

Eddie had gotten up to grab the pizza and you could help yourself in what you did next. He’d placed it in the middle of the coffee table in front of the couch and once he’d sat down with a piece, offering it to you, you smiled and shook your head insisting on him eating it and grabbing your own.

You stood up, half in front of him and bent down, taking maybe a little too long to grab a slice. You knew your ass was almost directly in front of his face as you’d bent down.

You felt that your shirts had ridden right up as you’d bent over, and your heart was racing a million miles an hour knowing that there really was no going back after this. You just prayed he didn’t catch on to what you were doing.

Eddie shot up from his spot as you’d sat down next to him, thighs touching.

“Bathroom!” He exclaimed a bit too loudly as he walked a bit weird down the hall.

You had to hold in your laugh. He was definitely hard. You felt a bit guilty but you also didn’t want your game to end here. You weren’t certain that he was going for a wank but you didn’t want to risk it.

Gaining confidence knowing that at the very least he was definitely attracted to you, you waited about a minute before getting up and standing outside the door.

“Hurry up you’re gonna miss the best part Eds!” You smirked, knowing he had to come out now, knowing you were outside the door.

He was probably just taking a breather but you wouldn’t have any of that—you loved when he was flustered. Too adorable.

“Oh my goddd,” you practically moaned, “this pizza is sooo gooood.”

You heard a bang and a quiet curse from behind the door. Holding back a giggle you continued.

“Is it just me or does this pizza taste waaaay better than normal? Mmmmm…”

You almost ruined everything at the laugh you had to cover up with a slight cough. Deciding you were done now, you made your way back to the couch.

You two finished off the pizza without much more happening. You made the same jokes and quips as you usually would until the screen went blank out of nowhere.

“Eddie!” You knew we was sitting on the fucking remote. This happened at least once a week.

“It’s actually not me this time! Get up and check your own side!” He whined.

You get up and lift the cushion, only for it not to be there. “Get up, Eds!” He let out a long whine. “I’m comfyyyyy.”

He could be such a sook sometimes but you couldn’t help but find it adorable. His eyes were slightly glazed over with what you assumed was tiredness.

You decided to get it yourself and reached under Eddie shoving your hand under the cushion searching for it.

You two continued bickering, him insisting it wasn’t there and in your efforts to prove him wrong like you always did, reaching even further meant you somehow ended up in his lap.

The position went over your head as your hips moved, arm reached further between the cushion.

Eddie stilled beneath you and you breath caught in your throat at the reason why.

You could feel Eddie in his entirety. Hard. Against your thigh.

You were both frozen. Barely breathing.

Wide eyes connected as you were both lost for words. Eddie broke first.

“Shit—I’m sorry I…”

Your mouth caught up to brain and you stumbled out, “No—I shouldn’t have…”

Heavy breaths connected as you realised just how close your faces were.

You couldn’t help but glance down at his extremely kissable lips. You’d always been fascinated by every aspect of him, but especially his lips.

He licked them almost on instinct, causing you to lick yours as well without a thought.

“Y/N, I…” Eddie breathed softly, eyes full of lust but also something…warm?

“Please Eds,” you breathily responded, desire clear on your face.

That was all it took for Eddie to press his lips to yours. It started off surprisingly soft, the feeling of his lips against yours consuming you entirely. You were buzzing. It was just you and Eddie in this moment. His hands were on your hips and yours behind his neck gently tangled in his hair. You sighed into the kiss and he pulled even you closer.

His kiss slowly turned deeper, licking your bottom lip, hoping to kiss you deeper.

Opening your mouth, his tongue stroked yours and the fire in your belly was getting deeper. Unbeknownst to you, you had started slowly moving your hips against his.

He groaned deeply, pulling away from you. “Wait—” he squeezed your hips. “You need to stop for a sec.”

Rational thinking beyond you, the sting of rejection was overwhelming. So many emotions were rising to the surface and you couldn’t help your eyes glazing over. Maybe he realised it was a fantasy and he wasn’t actually enjoying himself. Maybe he realised having you as a friend was better. Maybe you kissed grossly—

Having realised your train of thought and seeing your eyes all glossy he immediately panicked.

“No! You don’t understand—j-just hear me out baby,” he stuttered out. Nerves evident in his voice. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your hips and he pulled your head down to his shoulder.

Mouth right next to your ear, unable to look you in the eyes in fear of rejection, he explained himself.

“I want you so bad, you have no idea. God, darling I’ve wanted you so bad for longer than you could imagine. You have no idea how badly I want to keep kissing you, but I can’t without knowing if you feel the same.”

His hand had moved to the middle of your back rubbing up and down gently. Your breath hitched wondering if what he was about to say was what you’d always dreamt of hearing.

You leaned back, looking him in the eyes, giving him a shy smile of encouragement.

“Look, I—I know I’m not the best guy out there, especially not for you. And I thought that all these years I could push down my feelings for you, but I can’t. And I don’t want to give you the wrong impression so I need to give you my whole truth. I—I love you Y/N… and you don’t need to feel the same because I know it’s a lot and I’m completely fine if you want to go back to being just friends or you want me to move out or you never want to speak to me again but I just needed you to know and Steve keeps telling me you feel the same but I don’t know if that’s true and I don’t want you to feel forced in to anything just because I feel that way—”

Hearing what you needed to hear, you interrupted his rambling by pressing your lips back together, and this time you took control of the kiss, moving even further up his lap eliciting a loud groan.

“I love you too, Eds.”

—————

Requests open!!

Thanks for reading guys!!

Not proofread sorry!

Please let me know if you want a smut part two! Or a normal part two 🫣!

Comment any ideas you have with this Eddie and reader as well because I’m thinking of making a few different one shots from the same universe!

Would you guys be into that?

Anyways thanks for reading!

Love you all x

<3

[fullonfandomindulgence]

the fury is a boss from mgs3. clic for bigger images

looking up paranormal stuff is the fastest and best way to find yourself in web 1.0 again. below for your perusal are (some of) the sites tome found in her quest for the truth

i couldnt get a good screenshot of this last one for the comic but its my favorite fringe theory. certain patterns of rock carvings by ancient peoples look similar to patterns of plasma discharge when the plasma is magnetically confined. where would various cultures from millennia ago have observed magnetically confined plasma? well, the aurora is made of magnetically confined plasma. the paper suggests that the solar wind may have been one or two degrees of magnitude stronger millennia ago, creating giant plasma structures in the sky, which were then seen and recorded in stone

[boymanmaletheshequel]

Symbolism of Melinoe

💀💭💀💭💀💭💀💭💀💭💀💭💀💭💀💭

Dark goddess of funeral, of nightmares, and of ghosts and the dead, Melinoê is the dual goddess of the light and the day, said to be charred black on one side in her chthonic nature, and bright and white as snow on the other, contrasted by her heavenly half, Melinoe is a goddess to be revered and respected, and here are some of the symbols and sacred icons you can use to do so.

———————-————————————————

•🌈 Colors:

Representative of her dualistic nature, the analogous colors of black and white are the best colors, or rather lack there-of, to iconize and represent this frightening goddess, like a black and white tintype photograph from a nostalgic, forgotten era.

•🐴 Animals:

- Ravens: the most iconic bird of the dead, a specter and epiphet of all chthonic deities, crows are the most obvious choice for an animal to represent the power and idolatry of lady Melinoe.

- Moths: an insect of the night, bound and destined to follow the white light in the dark, moths are rather reminiscent of the lost souls and ghosts guided by melinoe to those who seek them from the afterlife.

•🌸 flowers & Herbs:

- White Poppies. Long considered a symbol of ancient afterlife, and a bringer of nightmares, poppies are often considered a deeply paranormal flower, and it makes since that because of this, they are often seen as being iconic of melinoe, especially the white ones.

- Mhyrr. An incense of great respect and value, myhrr has historically been left as an offering at funerals for the dead, a sign of luck and prospect in the afterlife. This was especially common in ancient Egypt, but there’s also evidence to suggest that it was regarded in a similar way in Ancient Greece during the Hellenistic period!

•🍗 food:

- Pomegranate: as the daughter of Persephone and Hades, pomegranates played a pivotal role in the conception of lady Melinoe, and are a great food offering or libation to her, if one wants to communicate or connect to her, perhaps a good way to do so would be to snack on a palm of pomegranate seeds, or to make a tea from its rind?

•💎 crystals & gemstones:

- Ancestralite. A somewhat rare natural combination of hematite and iron, Ancestralite is considered a great gateway stone to communicating with the spirits of dead ancestors or family members, as well as a stone of protection from death itself. These qualities make it a rather great option for a stone to use in crystal work with lady Melinoe!

- Snowflake Obsidian. Obsidian, a lavic stone that has long been used in darker magic, and especially Chthonic magic, is a natural fit for iconizing Melinoe? And the stones signature black and white “snowflake” speckles are great representation of her dual nature between light and dark, though, any variety of Obsidian will work in theory!

- Jet. Often worn to funerals as intricately carved mourning brooches during the Victorian era, jet is a stone of deep Black Death, and highly representative of mourning and the afterlife, with the history to back it up. I actually own one of these antique brooches, and have found it to hold a very dark, but not evil, energy! Jet is a great, and very absorbing stone to work with in chthonic or black magic!

•🪐 planets:

- The moon. Like almost all chthonic deities, the moon is iconic of lady Melinoe, as the domain of nightmares and ghosts she reigns over is most active when it is at its fullest phase! Take advantage of the moon cycles if you wish to communicate with any chthonic deity, Melinoe included.

•🏅other symbols:

- Graveyard dirt. A common offering or ingredient used in black divination, spirit work, and dark magic, a jar of (ethically sourced, pls don’t dig in peoples graves lmao) graveyard dirt is a perfect offering of loyalty and reverence, or iconic symbol of respect, to the goddess Melinoe, as funerals are perhaps her most sacred event!

So there you have it, some helpful starters to begin your reverence of the symbolism and iconography of lady Melinoe of Hades, daughter of Persephone and Hades, mother of ghosts and nightmares. I hope you learned something about her, and will consider her in your future practices! Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more posts about the intriguing and powerful deities of Helen! 💙🏛️💙

@xxfox0-chillingxx

[emeraldspiral]

Imagine if instead of creating Clembrane to replace Dib's dad Zim cloned Dib himself to try to replace him with a harmless fake while he kept the real Dib trapped in his lab where no one would look for him. Kinda like the comic where GIR replaced Dib. Where Zim programmed Clembrane to make pudding and ground Dib, Zim has programmed Clib to act like he and Zim have buried the hatchet and become best friends. Dib is forced to watch on the video screens in Zim's lab as Clib goes to skool in his place and spends all day telling everyone that Zim is super cool and definitely not an alien and he was a dookie-brained dirt monkey for ever thinking so. Zim sends Clib home to Dib's house in his place and Dib has to watch his dad totally accept Clib as his real son without out an ounce of suspicion and even praise him for saying what he wants to hear about giving up on the paranormal. Gaz sees what's going on but just doesn't care. Clib invites Zim into the house so he can tear apart Dib's room, destroy his evidence, and put some evil alien science doohickey on Membrane's latest invention.

Of course, as you'd expect, inevitably that Dib DNA proves just too strong for Zim's programming and he starts behaving more like the real Dib. He randomly starts throwing insults into the mix when he's supposed to be singing Zim's praises, acts like he's giving him a friendly pat on the back but then pushes him into traffic, and deliberately fucks up and sabotages Zim's latest evil scheme he was supposed to help with. Eventually, Clib breaks completely free of Zim's influence and rushes to the lab to liberate the real Dib.

At first Dib and Clib are a little unsure how to feel about the situation. How are the two meant to both exist at once? What do they tell their dad? Will he accept both of them? Maybe he will, and that'd be kind of awesome. It'd be like having a twin brother, except it's another him, which means they like the same things and think the same way, so they'll always get along. But just as the two of them start getting excited about finally having someone in their life who gets them and who they can share their passion for the paranormal with, Clib deteriorates into a puddle of goo, due to being an unstable creation. Zim shrugs, "Oh well." Dib is devastated. He slunks out of Zim's house. Zim cluelessly asks if they're still on for some activity he and Clib promised to do together later. Dib chucks an object at Zim's head. The final, incredibly disturbing gag of the episode is GIR licking Clib's remains off the floor.

[novelizt]

THE COMPLICATIONS OF A FAKE ENGAGEMENT ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

⚜ PART TWO

GENRE ➺ fluff + hoax engagement

SYNOPSIS ➺ you shouldn't be that beautiful in a bridal gown for a wedding that's fictitious to begin with

WARNING ➺ fem reader

DISCLAIMER ➺ I haven't read the books so the characterization/alignment in the books may not line up and it's been a while since i've written anything. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

NOTES ➺ inspired by the try-on wedding gown scene in “extraordinary attorney woo”

   When a 17-year-old signs up to be a ghost hunter, the last thing she expects is to wind up in a bridal boutique. Especially not with her employer improvising the role of her fiancé.

   Lost between fabrics of silk and satin is the story of how you ended up here. You're on the brink of insanity when Lockwood finally does his job as your make-believe fiancé. Chipping in with a compliment, blowing kisses, and raining applause. On a normal day, you could act as if all this was fine and that the flurry of frivolous women weren't tiring. But the dresses were heavy and the lights were blinding. You had his ring, and the look on his face was convincing—but twelve dresses in, and you were ready to crumple into a heap.

   "Why the rush to marry?" Kelly—you think her name was—asks. She was the ringleader for the entire dress-fitting business.

She tightened the corset around you and clipped the fabric around your bust tighter. You couldn't even speak! Luckily enough, Lockwood took note of your lack of oxygen and answered for you. "We're trained agents."

   Kelly pulled the cinches tighter. You wheezed your last wisp of air, gripping the fabric for release. "As in the paranormal kind?"

   Lockwood's eyes shone with pride. "Exactly that! You never know what could happen on a case. Might as well marry while we're breathing, no? Oh- please let my girl breathe, she's turning blue."

   The corset loosened and you sagged in visible relief. Nodding in acknowledgement, you said, "Many thanks."

   "No worries, darling. Wouldn't want you dying before the flower picking." He smiled at you, and you withheld the urge to glare at him. "Have you found what you're looking for, love?"

   You look at the rack and consider just lying... but there was a reason you were here. Judging by his still jumping knee, he hasn't found evidence at all.

   Signing yourself to your fate, you sighed. "No..."

   Kelly jumps with glee. Dragging you behind the curtains before Lockwood could get another word in. The last thing you see of him is a grateful grin. He disregards the simper you throw his way.

   When he's sure you're distracting Kelly, he slips back to the file rooms. Shuffling through documents whilst keeping his ears open. It's not that hard to guess whether Kelly got you into another gown or not. The woman is exorbitant and loud.

   He's got his hands on an incriminating sheet of evidence as he hears it. Kelly's compliments and your terrible attempts at buying him more time. Lockwood stuffs the sheet into his coat pocket and breaks for the lounge. In time for the velvet curtains to draw.

   His eyes are adjusting to the brightened lights again. Yet, all is right when you're unveiled. Sheets of ivory silk rolling down in waves curl around your figure like it's made for you. It's less extravagant than the previous choices but it highlights you the best.

   Whatever fake reaction dies in his throat and his jaw hangs open. Eyes leading up to your giggling face as Kelly pushes a row of spray roses into your hands to "complete the look." He knows all this is pretend. He can't help but wonder how different it would be if ghosts and ghouls didn't invade the world. If the pair of you were a normal boy and a normal girl. If you two weren't 17 and only here for another case. If you were actually dressed in that ivory gown, coming down an aisle as red as the curtains. In an alternate world, would it be reality?

   He's considering the probability of it when you drop the roses to your midsection. Allowing his mother's old ring to gleam in the light before he pulls his eyes right back to you. He reads, "Have you found what you're looking for?" from your lips, and like a puppet on a string, he nods yes, and he's sure he mutters the word, too. But he's not thinking about the evidence in his pocket. He's thinking about you in ivory, and how much better it would be if you were his real bride instead of his fake one.

• i've been wanting to write for the lockwood & co. fandom for a while now hehe

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 28

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 27 🟣 Part 29

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, male masturbation, fingering, p-in-v sex, shower sex, ongoing vampire shenanigans, haematophilia (that's a blood fetish, people.), (hence unsurprisingly) lots of blood, paranormal voyeurism, regular voyeurism, exhibitionism, taunting August (bad idea, probably), (light?) predator/prey dynamic, elements of D/s dynamic, praise kink, hair pulling, some light spanking, spitroasting, mentions of (something resembling) subspace, the guys being fucking idiots (because why not), deepthroating, double facial...

Word count: 4k

A/N: Well, here we go... You can thank @geralts-yenn for the early posting of this chapter (And you can thank me for finishing CH29 yesterday so I feel comfortable posting this already lol... I like to have an extra chapter on file, idk why)

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red

@sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2 @lizzystuffsthings @manysecrets2020

@sarcasmoverlordxo

You were on your way to Mikey’s room, where you’d been spending your nights since you still hadn’t figured out what to do with the room you’d been given, when something stopped you dead in your tracks. It was a strange pull that felt familiar and completely new at the same time — something reminiscent of a violent longing for… you. The feeling was clouded by the same static you experienced when Mike was feeding on you, sharing his gift — but Mike was nowhere near you, and therefore by any and all logic also very much not feeding. More importantly: this feeling didn’t come from Mike.

As if by magic, you were drawn towards the source of it, and the closer you got, the stronger the feeling, until you came to a halt in front of a door. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath labored, a maelstrom of unidentifiable thoughts racing through your mind. An image forced its way to the foreground — a thought not your own.

You reached for the doorknob and opened the door despite not knowing what was even behind it. A bedroom. Whose?

The faint sound of running water reached you from behind another door in the corner of the room — anyone’s best guess would be that there was a bathroom behind door number two. Another image flashed through your head — this time clearer. Closer.

You. Naked. Bloodied.

Your breath quickened as your heart beat so loudly in your ears there was no way that whoever was behind that door hadn’t heard it — although there was a possibility they were slightly too preoccupied with their thoughts to notice.

As quietly as possible, you tiptoed to the bathroom door, and you pushed the handle down without thinking about it for too long. Evidence strongly suggested you’d find Marshall on the other side of the door, and you deliberately didn’t think of the consequences in case you were wrong about that.

You weren’t wrong.

The sight before you made you clench your thighs together, and with great difficulty you fought back a gasp. He was in the shower, leaning against the wall, eyes closed and stroking himself in a lazy rhythm.

He didn’t look up, didn’t even move — any more than what he’d been doing up until now, anyway — but there was no way he didn’t know you were here. To paraphrase Mike: you couldn’t ambush him, the man could read minds.

A smile appeared on his lips. Had he heard you?

“Yes.” Alright, that answered that question.

“Want some company?” For the first time, you realized Marshall was the only person in your entire family with whom you could communicate without the possibility of anyone else overhearing you…

“I like that thought.” It almost sounded like a confession. “And I wouldn’t say no to that.”

You discarded your clothes as quickly as humanly possible, and hurried into the shower without thinking, where you were welcomed with open arms by Marshall — and met with a very unwelcome stream of water that was way too cold.

You shrieked, fighting to get away — not so much from Marshall, but definitely the glacial temperatures of the water. No wonder the glass of the shower stall hadn’t been steamed up.

“Thank you for not letting go of me,” you said after you’d rectified the temperature-situation.

“You’re more than welcome.” Why was he smiling? Did he think this was funny? “A little.”

“I can leave, if you’re going to be like this,” you warned, but his arms tightened around you, and you knew you didn’t have a prayer.

“It’s exceedingly rare that prey walks into my arms so willingly.” Your cheek was pressed against the cool tiles of the wall, a hand twisted into your hair, and you relished the weight of him as he leaned into you, pinning you against the wall. “I hardly think I’m prepared to let you go.”

Words got stuck in your throat, and your thoughts remained an unintelligible mess as you attempted to gain an understanding of the situation while every cell in your body screamed at you to run. To say you’d never seen him like this would be a lie. You had. Twice — maybe even three times, but you were a little preoccupied with the situation at hand to figure out which instances counted, and which ones did not. Entirely new, however, was your sudden willingness to surrender.

Then why did the last shred of defiance in your body demand you struggle against his iron grasp?

“We both know it’s useless.” Correct. “But I have to admit I admire your spirit. Not that I expected anything else from you.”

Were you trembling in fear, or in anticipation? Marshall’s grip on your hair tightened and you whined softly. He forced his thigh between yours, nudging your legs apart with his, and again you struggled — and again it was completely and utterly useless. A low growl escaped through his gritted teeth as he inhaled deeply, dragging the tip of his nose along your neck. With his free hand, he turned the showerhead away from you.

“Are you nervous, love?” He chuckled as you cried out when his fang suddenly pierced your earlobe. You instinctively reached for the source of the pain, the sharp sting quickly subsiding until it was no more than a dull throb that felt eerily similar to the one between your legs. When you looked at your hand, your fingertips were red.

Marshall’s sharp teeth grazed your neck without breaking skin, and you winced on instinct. “No, don’t…”

He spun you around effortlessly, pinning your wrists to the wall over your head with one hand while the other forcefully found it’s way between your legs, two fingers slipping into your eager, aching pussy with ease.

“Don’t?” He smiled deviously. “You know exactly what I want to do to you, you stand here dripping and waiting, your body begging me… I can feel your pulse so clearly inside this tight little cunt. Tell me, what exactly is it that you don’t want me to do to you?”

You had no answer to that question, knowing that if the thought of asking him to stop occurred to you for so much as a split second, he would have heeded your request long before you’d ever be able to voice it. Not a single part of you wanted him to stop for even the shortest moment.

Involuntarily, your muscles clenched around his fingers as he pumped them into you in a lazy rhythm. His teeth dragging over your skin leaving you teeming with anticipation, until he finally bit down just above your collarbone. He took pull after pull from you, in time with the rhythm of his fingers inside your core, as if he was feeding. Only he didn’t swallow. Instead, he let your blood flow out of his mouth, allowing it to run down your body. A metallic scent filled the air, adding to the already overwhelming sensations of hot steam, seemingly limitless arousal and the divine sounds of pleasure that spilled freely from Marshall’s throat.

“I’ve never had the pleasure with one of your kind,” he explained. “Always had to be careful… Forgive me.”

Forgive him? For what? For showing you exactly what you’d been so curious about for a while now? For loving you in his own, twisted way? He let go of your hands when you struggled against him, and you used your newfound freedom to grab Marshall’s face and pull his mouth to yours, the taste of your own blood strange on your tongue. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he abandoned his pursuits between your legs to pull you close against him with one arm while the other guided your leg to his hip.

A dull thud broke your fixation on Marshall for a moment. August. Near Marshall’s bedroom door. “Huh?”

“He’ll leave if you want him to.” Marshall’s thoughts were clouded, strained in a way that matched his labored breathing. “But he would love to watch…”

Although you did not mind him listening in, you had so far preferred your intimate moments to be relatively August-less — unless, of course, those intimate moments were with August, in which case his presence was not a want, but rather a rock-solid requirement — but something felt different.

“Come in,” you whispered barely audibly, ignoring the surprised look on Marshall’s face that quickly morphed into a devilish grin as he lifted you off the floor.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, twisted your fingers into his hair as he bit your neck and continued to make a complete mess of you. A quick glance down at the bright-colored water around Marshall’s feet pushed the throbbing ache between your legs back to your attention, but your interest was soon piqued by something far more exhilarating: the absolutely thrilling sight of a very worked up August, leaning against the bathroom door, his black shirt hanging open to reveal his heaving chest.

“How does it feel, love?” Incredible. It felt incredible. A moan escaped you as you felt the tip of Marshall’s cock nudge at your entrance, and you looked over his shoulder, straight into August’s almost pleading eyes as Marshall pushed into you.

You cried out, your pleading whine clearly music to both your guys’ ears. Not once did you take your eyes off August as Marshall fucked you in a steady, demanding rhythm, luring moans and cries from you with every thrust. August was clearly hanging on to his last shred of restraint, a pained expression on his face as he struggled to… to what?

“You know how we feel,” Marshall said to August with a dark chuckle as he thrust into you a bit harsher, drawing sharp whines from your throat. “By all means, enjoy yourself while I take what you can’t have…”

In a split second, you were facing the glass with Marshall’s hand fisting your hair, pulling your head back as he pressed your bloody tits against the glass. More blood still trickled down your body from the bites Marshall had left, and without hesitation, he added another on your shoulder, letting the thick, warm liquid run down your back and between your breasts.

Still, your eyes never left August’s, except to glance down as he took his cock out. The sight was enough to make you whine, silently cursing the glass that kept you from reaching out and touching him. A shiver ran down your spine as Marshall pushed into you from behind. It was a struggle to keep your eyes open, yet you couldn’t bear to take them off August as he stroked himself at a slow, steady pace. You gritted your teeth as you looked at him, rage ripping through you so suddenly that you couldn’t hold back a growl.

“That’s normally our line, princess,” August said, his mouth curling into a smug smirk. “What’s the matter?”

“Bastard,” you cursed under your breath, your eyes still trained on his — your gaze cold and harsh while his was devious and provocative. “Come here.”

The sound of the sharp smack Marshall delivered to your ass bounced off the tiles, followed by a fierce, stinging pain. “Mind your manners.”

Yes, Sir…

The feeling of willing obedience subsided, washed away by the same rage from before. Defiance…

“It’s called being a fucking brat, love.” The echo of Marshall’s voice in your head was cut off by the sharp sting of another smack on your ass.

“I’m glad to see you don’t intend to spoil her education,” August said with the most insufferably arrogant edge to his voice, followed by an equally insufferable chuckle.

“Mike will take care of that, I’m sure,” Marshall grunted through gritted teeth, never wavering in his rhythm as he continued to fuck you. “Melot, in time, too.”

You huffed, the sharp breath coming out as a half-snarl. If Marshall knew about your curiosity towards Melot, then August, no doubt, did too.

You placed a hand on the glass at the height of August’s hips and looked up at him with pleading eyes. He was relentless, as always. “Isn’t she wonderful?” he asked Marshall softly. “I just can’t get enough of that wet, throbbing pussy…”

Your nipples hardened against the glass as sparks skittered up and down your spine. Moans turned into cries, your back arched further, seemingly acting of its own accord, and your clit throbbed almost painfully.

August’s doing, no doubt. But why were you fighting him?

“Sweet princess,” August chuckled, “it’s pointless, you know that. You’ll come for us, and you’ll do it now.” A smug grin spread across his face as your restraint shattered and stars danced before your eyes as you toppled over the edge.

Marshall took pity on you and your quaking knees, and slowed down, gently guiding you down from your peak. “Good girl,” he whispered softly. “That’s it. Good girl.”

He and August exchanged looks. “Look at her,” Marshall said. “Still so desperate for you…”

“For both of us,” August corrected. “If you don’t mind…”

Marshall clearly didn’t mind, because a brief wave of cool air later, you were in August’s arms, one arm draped around his neck while the other grasped desperately at his hip.

It probably shouldn’t have surprised you that all this time, Marshall’s thrusts — although relentless and rough — had been gentle enough to avoid any painful situations, but it did.

“To be fair, I do believe August is helping,” Marshall muttered as he finally slowed down, allowing you to catch your breath.

“Minimally,” August said casually, lifting your chin so you were looking up at him. He winked, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips before he lowered his mouth to yours and you were lost in a searing kiss. August moaned into your mouth as you wrapped your hand around his cock and stroked him in time with Marshall’s rhythm.

The way August looked down at you, licking his lips as he took in the literal bloodbath Marshall had created, turned your knees weak as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. “It never used to be my thing,” he muttered, shooting a quick glance at Marshall before locking eyes with you again, “but I must admit you’re a sight for sore eyes, princess.”

You moaned loudly when August’s hand closed lightly around your throat. He took a step back, moving his hand to the back of your neck and dragging your head down. Your heart skipped a beat, and nerves gnawed on your insides for a moment — but only a moment. August simply didn’t allow for much time to work yourself into some unnecessary frenzy about this: he impatiently tapped his cock against your lips. “Open up, princess. And spare me the attitude.”

“No need to panic, no need to resist… We know exactly what you think and how you feel, love.” A comforting thought, in a way.

They took good care of you, exactly as you’d expected — but make no mistake; they certainly took good care of themselves as well. Too much thinking certainly didn’t serve you well in this situation, that much became clear immediately, but as soon as you surrendered yourself to them, you fell into an easy rhythm that worked well for everyone.

No matter how fun it was to oppose and provoke, you couldn’t muster the strength — or maybe you just didn’t want to. Instead, you let yourself slip into the deep, calming comfort of the knowledge that you were safe and loved — a thought that seemed to be completely contradictory to the fact that you were literally being used as a mindless fuck doll, if you were being honest.

You could have lasted forever in that comfortable, floaty feeling — that’s what it felt like, at least — had it not been for the interesting sound. A slap — but different, and somehow your brain registered it for what it was immediately, and dragged you back to reality. And your attitude with it.

You stood up straight so abruptly that you finally seemed to have succeeded in taking your vampires by surprise, and you looked at them with a suspicious glare, going back and forth between Marshall and August a few times before you found the words you needed.

“You did not just… high five…” Those dumbass grins told you everything you needed to know. “Really? Four hundred years and you still haven’t managed to grow the fuck up?” You silently cursed yourself. You’d been having fun, right? Then why, pray tell, did you feel this intense urge to somehow ‘gain the upper hand’ in a situation that did not call for anything like that at all?

Of course, they saw right through you.

“Princess, I’ll give you two choices. Either you get on your knees…” August started, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Make me.”

“And that would have been option two,” Marshall said. He was suddenly behind you, holding your wrists together behind your back. “I’ll ask one more time.”

What was it with you and this continuous urge to struggle and pick fights when you knew you couldn’t win?

“It’s because you know you can’t win, love,” Marshall whispered. He was right — of course he was right!

It was completely unsurprising, then, that you were suddenly on your knees, unsure of whether you had done so of your own volition. One thing was clear, though: You were where you wanted to be, on the floor, looking up at August and Marshall as they towered over you.

Marshall was fresh out of however little patience he’d still possessed before your unruly intermezzo. “Be a good girl, love,” he said slowly, “and finish what you started.”

As he pushed his cock past your lips, you didn’t object. Instead, you slowly felt yourself fall back into that same calm headspace from before. It came from a place of total trust — feral nature be damned; Marshall would never hurt you.

Your vision was blurred by tears as you tried your best not to choke, so you had little else to go on than the sounds and near-continuous stream of swearing that spilled from Marshall’s lips, and the feeling of the tightening grip on your hair as he got closer and closer to orgasm with every thrust.

“Eyes closed, mouth open, love,” Marshall growled as he pulled his cock out of your mouth. This was not an order to argue about — there was no time: He finished himself off with a few swift strokes, and August followed mere seconds after him. ‘Eyes closed’ had been a very solid instruction…

“Fucking hell,” August muttered. Was it his finger that lightly trailed along your jaw? Had to be.

“I’m never getting this image out of my head.” Marshall’s words made you chuckle, and for a moment you furiously wished you could see yourself right now. Maybe someday, in a flash of Marshall’s thoughts. “Alternatively, I could take a picture…”

The idea both frightened and excited you — not because you thought you couldn’t trust the guys with a photo like that, but mostly because you were afraid you wouldn’t look good in it, although Marshall — and then August, once he got wind of the idea — was quick to point out that was a total non-issue. As far as they were concerned, you looked hot as fuck right now.

“Not that you normally don’t,” August said, chuckling softly.

“Just… Make it quick,” you laughed. “I feel sticky.”

“Might be more than just a feeling, love,” Marshall replied. “Done.”

That still didn’t mean you could open your eyes, but at least you didn’t have to try so hard to sit pretty. You slumped down on the floor, suddenly uncomfortably aware that you were cold, and tired. A strange, sinking feeling hit you suddenly, but before you had good and well thought about what it could be, August was on the floor next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest.

Then, water hits your knee. “Is it warm enough, princess?” August asked kindly, his voice soft and warm. You nodded, unable to speak for some reason. “Alright, that’s good.” He spoke slowly and clearly, obviously doing that on purpose, but you couldn’t figure out why exactly. “Is it alright if I clean your face? Do you want to do it yourself?”

“You can do it.” You weren’t kidding about suddenly feeling very tired.

As soon as August was done washing your face, and you opened your eyes, you felt a very stern grasp on your chin. August turned your face to him. His voice was still gentle when he spoke: “Look at me for a second, okay? Don’t look around right now — I mean it. Do yourself a favor and keep your eyes on me.”

He said it in such a way, with such seriousness to his voice that it simply made sense to do as you were told. Had you decided against that, you would have been confronted with a gigantic mess.

Blood. Lots of it. Everywhere. The wall, the glass, and — last, but certainly not least — on you.

The guys were right to assume that would have thoroughly freaked you out, so August kept you warm, snuggled up tightly against his chest in the corner of the shower while Marshall set out to turn the place into something a little less ‘Saw XI’ and a little more ‘normal bathroom’. After that, it was your turn.

You grew more and more tired by the second — especially since Marshall turned out to have a hidden talent for scalp massages, which you had the privilege to discover when he took it upon himself to wash your hair, even after you insisted that you could do it yourself. It wasn’t a complete lie: You probably could have, but there was absolutely no denying how very nice it was to not have to.

August and Marshall seemed determined to clean every inch of you thoroughly and with the gentlest care, never missing an opportunity to ask if you were okay, if you needed anything, if there was anything they could do for you…

“Stop asking that,” you whispered. “And get me into bed, please.”

You barely registered being carried out of the shower. They made quick work of drying you off and rushing you back into the bedroom.

“The bites,” August said to Marshall before he sealed his mouth over one of them. Marshall followed suit, dragging his tongue over another bitemark. “This one won’t stop bleeding.” His voice was so calm that you weren’t startled by the message.

“Does it need more than a simple band-aid?” Marshall asked, equally calmly. Why was he asking? Didn’t he already know the answer? “You deserve to know what’s going on, love. In that spirit: a band-aid is plenty. I’ll be right back.”

As always, he was true to his word, gently tending to your neck within seconds of announcing his departure. Then, someone knocked on the door, and Marshall disappeared again.

“Thanks,” he said to whoever was on the other side of the door — you couldn’t be bothered to turn around.

“Take care of her.” Of course it was Mike. You couldn’t help but smile, especially when Marshall returned, holding a cup of tea.

You drank it in silence, after the guys had made sure you were tucked in comfortably between Marshall and August.

“Will you both stay here?” you asked, somehow afraid of the answer. What if they said no?

“Neither of us would dream of leaving, princess,” August whispered. “We’ll be right here for as long as you need us.”

“Is… Is there anything you guys need?” you asked hesitantly.

“I’m good like this,” August said, and Marshall agreed with him. “You’re all we need right now."

[inbarfink]

The thing that I’ve been thinking of is… so one of Dib’s most defining traits and flaws is supposed to be his desire for fame and emotional validation. You know he is fighting to protect the earth, but he’s also fighting for the sake of his own ego

It’s got a lot of fun potential because it’s both extremely understandable - he’s been bullied and emotionally neglected for his entire life, it’s no wonder his biggest fantasy is just to be loved - but it can also motivate some really selfish acts. Not to mention how much it acts as a mirror to Zim’s own desire for respect and prestige among his own people.

And because of that, I guess it actually kinda surprises me that they never tried to have Dib pull a… reverse Planet Jackers moment? Like, just as Zim will protect the Earth from outside threats because he wants the credit for destroying it - will Dib help Zim if his ability to get credit for defeating him is threatened?

Like, I imagine a story where maybe Dib meets a rival paranormal investigator, and the guy’s like a Super Mega Asshole to Dib and also thinks he’s crazy. And then this guy manages to capture Zim and it seems like he’s going to be the one to expose him to the world and get all the credit for foiling his infiltration scheme. The credit that Dib feels he rightly deserves. Or he simply get a chance to defeat Zim, but there are no witnesses and no evidence and no chance anyone will ever believe him. 

For Dib, stopping Zim and proving to the world that he’s been right all along have always been interwoven goals. He has always taken it for granted that doing the former will naturally lead to the latter… So how will he deal with a situation where Zim can be stopped for good, but his situation will not change. No one will know or believe what he just did, he would just be the same ridiculed social pariah - the only thing he actually accomplished is that he has gotten rid of his best chance to change that permanently.

And you know, he doesn’t necessarily have to take that chance to help Zim or let him go - even just having Dib struggle with the idea momentarily could be a very strong character moment for him. I think it’s a shamefully underutilized aspect of his canon characterization and I do hope we’d get to see it played with more one of these days. 

But you know which piece of canon really came closest to tackling this aspect?

Dib’s little plan for Zim in ETF is not quite exactly what I was talking about above - but there are some similarities.

I’ve seen some people talk about Dib’s ETF plan like it was meant to be a favor to Zim or some sort of attempt at redemption for him or like… a thing that Zim benefit from in any sort of way? Like, I've seen some people describe the plot of ETF like Zim's manipulation of Dib’s plan was him using Dib’s kindness and empathy against him? And that’s not exactly what’s happening here.

To recap, Dib tries to stage yet another confrontation between himself and Zim (to let off steam from his Daddy Issues) only to find Zim a total emotional wreck, depressed to the point of total apathy. His first instinct is to drag him away to ‘lock him up’ but... he’s not really feeling it.

Something’s not quite right about winning like this. And then, he shifts to empathy 

But then, he shifts again, when he realizes the ‘real’ thing he’s been missing - a crowd.

The real reason this victory was feeling hollow is because he hasn’t made it public enough! If he's going to use Zim's emotional rock-bottom as a way to finally defeat him and condemn him into a life of painful experiments.... he wants to do it in front of a cheering crowd!

And while Zim’s scheme seems to have started once he first laid eyes on the Membracelet 

That plan couldn’t have worked without Dib’s own scheme to exploit Zim’s suicidal depression to get him in front as many people as possible so that Dib can get worldwide fame and Daddy’s approval and Zim can get... experimented on for the rest of his life. 

There was no kindness here to exploit, only a desperate desire for emotional validation.

The big mistake Dib did that allowed Zim the window of opportunity he needed to take over Membrane Labs was not doing the Kind Thing when he should’ve done the Practical Thing - and it was not doing the Cruel Thing when he should’ve done the Kind Thing. Dib had his chance to do the Practical Thing right there and then - kill or capture Zim while he’s not fighting back. He considered doing the Kind Thing (empathizing with Zim) and he decided to abandon both of them in favor of… the thing that will get him the most fame and attention.

And that’s the weakness of Dib that Zim exploited in his scheme. And that’s the thing that almost doomed planet Earth. Quite ironically, it’s literally a flaw Zim himself possesses quite strongly.

If Dib was willing to think purely in terms of what’s safest for Earth he would’ve taken out Zim right there and then and Earth would be safe forever - but for the sake of his own ego he took a risk that the planet almost paid very dearly for. 

(And if he was willing to resist the temptation of fame and continue with the thread of empathy he showed Zim? Well, we can only speculate of what would've happened then...)

It’s not quite what I was talking about above; Dib would’ve probably gotten some of the fame and validation he wanted if he just stomped Zim’s head right there and dragged his corpse out - he just wanted as much attention as possible. And he didn’t knowingly help Zim or even seriously considered it as much as he was just tricked into a situation of Mutually Assured Bastardness. But I think it is the closest we’ve come so far, and I think it’s interesting.

[dateamonster]

the good weed will have u waking up the next morning like theres a connecting thread of monster hunting shows where the main characters are simultaneously symbols of the status quo charged with identifying and often eliminating the Others of the world while being othered themselves in such a way that upholding the institutions they do can be read as acting directly against their own best interest. this is especially obvious in something like x-files where the characters are literally agents of the fbi and the show is structured more or less in the format of a police procedural, while half of the main duo is defined primarily by his love and fascination with the paranormal, a curiosity about the greater world which the very powers he serves we know would seek to contain, to secret away, or to destroy. or even like supernatural where monster hunting has this inextricable tie to a sort of stereotypical rugged masculinity and stoicism that is supposed to appeal to the audience even while we see it emotionally and physically destroying the characters who most strive to embody it. within both of these shows, and im sure others within the genre (looking at you buffy, tho i dont have time to unpack all that rn), there is this vein of suppressed queerness that runs through the narrative, as if in embodying this role as the defender of hegemony and eliminator of that which disrupts the perceived natural order, the archtypal monster hunter is made to recognize and subsequently repress the aspects of that cultural deviance that manifest within themself. going back to supernatural, this i think is especially evident in the conflict between the text of show and its large queer fanbase, who seemed to recognize within its otherwise pretty cut and dry story of a manly man who likes cars and guns and follows almost blindly the demands of his patrilinial inheritance a sort of self-parody, the conformity to the role of this cishetpatriarchal protector ideal so complete and almost excessive that it doubles back and becomes a kind of drag, yet so fragile that continuing to uphold it appears to be a constant source of pain and conflict for its characters.

im not saying such and such monster hunter show is inherently a secret queer narrative, but i AM saying every monster hunter is a huge fucking closet case.

[sugarcombsw]

Ghost hunting date - Colby Brock

warning: I guess there's no warning, it's just a cute fluffy short imagine with Colby.

word count: 733 (I think)

You and your boyfriend Colby had always been interested in the paranormal and he even had a whole channel with his best friend dedicated to it, so the two of you decided to go on a ghost hunting adventure together. You had read about a supposedly haunted house on the outskirts of town and decided to tell about it to Colby, immediately he invited you to go investigate it with him, but instead of making a video or something like that, it would be just the two of you in a cute little haunted date, according to Colby's words.

You and Colby arrived at the old, dilapidated house late at night. For the sake of it all the moon was full and the stars were shining bright. As you approached the house, you both felt a chill run down your spines and shared a weird look with each other but decided to go in anyway. The front door creaked open, and you stepped inside. Immediately, you felt a cold breeze brush past you, what a great date you thought. The air was thick with an eerie silence, you felt your heart racing, and your palms were sweating. Colby sensed that you were unease and took your hand, reassuring you that he was there for you.

Colby started exploring around the house, using his flashlights to guide his way with you following right behind him. Every creak, every whisper, and every gust of wind made the two of you jump, that's how creepy the house was. You and Colby heard strange noises, even saw weird shadows moving around and couldn't tell if it was because of the flashlights or the light of the moon, or just your imagination playing tricks, later on you felt a sense of being watched. As you two walked down the dark hallway, You suddenly felt something cold touch tou shoulder, as you turned around there was nothing there. You started to panic a bit , but Colby held you tight and told you it was just you imagination and you ended up believing his words.

You guys decided to continue the investigation, checking every room and corner of the house. At some point you and Colby even set up some devices to capture any paranormal activity, as you were about to leave one of the rooms, you and Colby heard a loud bang coming from upstairs.

“What do you think it was?” you asked Colby while holding tight his arm.

“I don't know baby, but let's check it out together okay?” he told while giving you a quickly hug and kiss on your forehead.

You smiled at him and you two rushed up to find one of the devices had fallen off and was now lying on the floor. You were now trembling with fear, but Colby hugged you tight and asked you if you wanted to leave, to which tou said yes since you couldn't handle anymore of what was going on in that house. As the two of you stepped outside, you let out the breath you didn't knew you were holding and felt relieved to be out of the haunted house.

While driving back home, Colby held you hand and told you how proud he was of you for being brave, he reminded you that you two were in this together and he would always be there to take care and protect you, like he always did.

In the end, you and Colby didn't capture any concrete evidence of paranormal activity in that house, but you both knew that you had experienced something beyond explanation. You were grateful to have shared the adventure with him even if it was a bit scary, but specially because as soon as you two got back home, Colby put on one of your favorite movies and you guys cuddled in bed waiting for the food you ordered to finally arrive.

[golbrocklovely]

alright…. i went and saw snc's movie.

here are my thoughts

ABSOLUTE SPOILERS AHEAD

i'm gonna separate this into two main parts - the plot and my feelings.

THE PLOT

part 1: snc and nate go to ranch to look for skinwalkers/aliens/crypted, since all three have been sighted at this one ranch. it is claimed that a billionaire owned the land before the current owners, and spent ten years trying to find out what paranormal pull the land had. eventually, said billionaire, named bigalow, fucked around with something that pissed off the spirit of a shaman and it scared him away, so much so he does not talk about or come back to this place ever.

snc interview a psychic/ghost hunter that has been on their channel before, becky vickers. she tells them about the land, and they end up telling her that they plan on doing a blood ritual. they plan to give their blood to the land on a sacred area/believed portal so that the shaman can protect them, guide them, ect. she tells them that's a stupid idea. then she says to them "off camera", which is completely still in the movie lol, that sam needs to be careful. bc while colby is safe/worked thru whatever was blocking him, sam hasn't. there is something that sam is holding back/keeping to himself that puts him in danger, and he needs to let that go. she also says it's dumb for them to do the blood ritual and she suggests against it.

they do the blood ritual.

as snc and nate search the land, they start off in some rooms in a hotel that they are staying at on property, one of which is where bigalow saw the shaman. they have a rempod, nate does the estes method, they get some interesting words said back to them. one of which is "chimes". colby goes out to search for chimes near by. when he does, the video he was recording has no audio (somehow it did not record audio and this was on his phone). he finds chimes, in tandem with that, nate gets the word "run". colby alleges to hear a scream off in the distance (which mind you they are in the middle of no where) so he runs back to the room where nate and sam are. as they are talking about it, the rempod goes off a bunch. one of the last words they get on the estes method is "preserver"

part 2: the next day they interview the archeologist on cite that explains the different artifacts they have found throughout the land. in particular, this long knife-like blade that must have been used as an offering of some sort bc it's too long to be used as a spear/arrowhead. he talks to them about specific areas on the land, particularly the shaman cave and sacred circle. he explained that shamans were trying to connect to the spirit realm or possibly other dimensions altogether via alter states of consciousness. and it's believed that bigalow was trying to see what the shamans were doing, but thru modern means, and most likely pissed something off that caused him to flee.

in particular, they say that bigalow was doing too much, searching too hard and pushing the limits, and thus that's why he was scared off. keep this in mind for later.

the archeologist then says that bigalow was disturbing the land, and then snc and nate ask if they should do that to get the shaman's attention. he says that's one way of getting it to pay attention to you, and then it cuts to them blowing the land up a bit.

at night, snc and nate go the settlers cabin, which is from the 1800s and was home to the craw family. they use the onvoy and they ask the spirits about skinwalkers and the shaman. when they bring up the shaman's name, the (assumed) craw family stops speaking even tho before they were very talkative. the boys come to the conclusion that the poltergeist activity the craw family experience was most likely from the shaman.

the boys regroup and try to figure out a better way to understand everything. bc of the evidence they have gotten before, they believe that everything is connected (since that is what has been coming thru via the estes method), so they figure the best way to get more evidence is to do a ritual a shaman would do - which really just amounts to them lighting candles inside the cave and nate playing guitar, and doing the estes method again - but i'm getting ahead of myself.

part 3: they travel to the sacred circle and bring out *sigh* the writing planchette, along with the blade that was found in the land via the archeologist. they end up getting an infinity sign after being spooked by the static device they have going off (which shouldn't happen since there's no electricity that high up/no service at all). they believe it is whatever they are talking to/the shaman's way of explaining that again, everything is all connected and time means nothing bc everything is happening all at once. also when this happens, colby gets a lot of shortness of breath, anxiety all of sudden. nate meditates for a bit while they use the flashlight to continue talking. they end up being told that the land is haunted by aliens, skinwalkers, and ghosts. then they ask if they should continue this convo in the shaman cave, they get a yes, and then they go.

while in the cave, nate plays guitar and snc set up candles all over. colby goes under in the estes method, sam feels wind come from inside the cave. colby (via the estes method) tells him to go over there, sam squats down, and then jumps back up bc he felt as if he was gonna be touched - not that he was, but that he felt the instinct to get up bc he thought it was gonna happen. the shaman speaks and says that it's there to educate and to teach respect, most likely, to the boys.

nate asks the very valid question of "what are our intentions here anyway" to which sam responds that they are purely here to understand the difference between this side (the physical) and the other side (paranormal). to which immediately after saying that colby replies with "connected". they ask how is everything, the aliens, ghosts, and skinwalkers, connected. colby eventually replies with "same". they mention is this area, the cave, a portal, colby says "here".

as sam ponders whether or not the shamans were actually contacting the other side or actually going to the other side, colby says "danger", nate and sam jump back and take colby out of the estes method bc they heard behind them something running up to them from right outside the cave. they weren't sure if it was a person or an animal. eventually once they chill out, colby goes back under. sam ends up asking the shaman why they do rituals like this for 1000s of years on this land, going back and forth between worlds. colby replies with "mine". then "everything", then "home". sam then says "everything here is your home and you want to protect it?", colby immediately responds with "yes". sam (and colby) clarify that the shamans were using the spirits to help protect their land. sam continues to ask "but what about all the aliens, skinwalkers, ghosts - are they all yours too?" then colby responds with "one". nate then says "he wants us to unsee the division. ghosts, skinwalkers, humans, shamans, all of it. we all exist in the same place at the same time" and colby replies with "finally". once out of the estes method, colby ends up being told what he said and he said it sounds like the unified theory of paranormal.

snc and nate finish off the blood ritual, and then there is some truly terrible acting at the end with a voiceover of snc talking about how they knew they had to leave there and that this opens up so many doors and colby has the truly heinous line of "*sigh* but why am i scared?" lol

okay….. that is what happens in the movie, roughly. let's get into how i feel about all of this.

MY FEELINGS

so, the main question i feel many will ask is: is it worth going to see?

and that's a complicated answer. i think the movie overall was really interesting to watch. it was an odd sensation, but i mean that in the nicest way possible, to see snc on the big screen. snc have always, weirdly, been my little secret. most ppl i interact with daily don't know i'm a fan of them. so to be in a room with other snc fans, some of which might be even bigger fans than me, watching something by them was really cool and odd at the same time lol

is the movie worth paying to watch? that depends on how you feel about snc and their content. bc this wasn't much different than anything else on their channel. but i will say if this had been a vid on their channel, it would be my favorite of this past year. so it's definitely their best content as of recent date. but is it worth paying $15 for (not taking in food and drink/getting to the cinema)… i think so. bc it's a whole experience. so if you can afford it, do so. but if you can't, don't think you're missing out on much either.

i enjoyed my time watching the movie, and i don't personally think i've wasted my money paying to see this. god knows i've spent my money on much worse content and random shit, so this is the least of my concerns truly.

also the rumors are true - they do in fact use a fuckton of ai. like way more than i expected. and while i don't love that they did that, i honestly don't care enough to be upset. i feel like there are more important things to worry about tbh. but in case that's a point of contention for you, imma letting you know now.

the overall vibe i got from the movie was very hippy dippy, and sam his philosophical ass was at an all time high, so if that's not exactly what you like watching… maybe skip out on this movie.

a post i made the day i saw this movie said: my main take away is that sam would literally summon the devil, lucifer himself, if it meant proving the afterlife was real or that the paranormal does exist. but he won’t admit that out loud. and what i mean by that is that it became very clear in this movie, and probably on accident, that there is a similarity between bigalow and sam. that they both keep pushing and pushing and pushing to find answers instead of accepting what is in front of them, and that gets them put into danger. and i think that's what the ghost hunter/psychic was referring to.

i've talked about it before on here but sam has a tendency to always jump to the worse conclusion. it's not a ghost, it's a demon. it's not a friendly spirit, it's a trickster trying to hurt them. he always does shit like this. and i think this ties to him seeking out "the truth", whatever that may be in his mind. he wants definitive proof that the afterlife exists. and i think for a while he had that with the conjuring/cody and satori. but i think he's come around to the idea that maybe they were fake or lied to him or tricked him, even if he will never admit this out loud. and now that desperation is at an all time high. and look, idk what this deep feeling comes from. is it bc he wants to be the person that truly knows what happens behind the curtain? is it to have the title as The Ghosthunter? is it just not enough alone to him to have faith and after years of searching that maybe everything they have done is enough proof on it's own? idk. i think his search is selfish in it's own way, and while i don't think it's wrong to want that answer, i think what's worrisome is how far he might go to find it. which is why i say i think he would summon the devil if he thought it would be proof enough.

but the thing is, once you knock on a door, you can't unknock. and not only that, but he doesn't protect himself. and i'm not even talking about believing in god, i'm saying he does nothing to cleanse himself. he does nothing to get out of that headspace after being in it. and i think that alone, whether you believe in evil or not, is gonna ruin him eventually. he's gonna push himself too far in pursuit of an answer he may not want to hear. and not only that, i think he will push everyone away to find it, sadly. including colby.

i also personally think that the reason for this desperate search for an afterlife not only comes from wanting to know the answer, but bc of his "purpose". he wants to feel important; we all do. and i think in his mind it's like this, either a - he doesn't feel like he's gonna reach this said purpose on this plain of existence and thus if there is an afterlife, he might have it there instead and all of this can be a little less burdensome. b - he wants to be the one to prove the afterlife exists and have that be his purpose so if he doesn't find it, he's lost at life. or c (which is related to b) - if there isn't an afterlife at all, then all of this was for nothing and he needs to find something else to both fill his time and be his purpose otherwise he wasted his potential.

i'm not saying that i agree with any of these, but i think that one of these is the reason he does all of this. or maybe not lol

overall i think i would rate this movie like a 3.8/5 stars. it would honestly be a 4 if it wasn't for the ai bc at one point, it was just a bit much lol but i think the movie itself was interesting enough, i felt entertained thru out, and again - if this had been on their channel it would be their best video this year.

if yall have seen it, let me know your thoughts !

[bigfootbeat]

Bigfoot 'is real and has even been having little Bigfoot babies', boffins claim

The latest Daily Star tabloid reports on Bigfoot breeding populations in British Columbia best illustrate the persistent issue of sensationalized Bigfoot coverage in media reporting. The main claim of the article (Bigfoot 'is real and has even been having little Bigfoot babies', boffins claim) —that Bigfoot animals are actively procreating and living in family groups—is based entirely on the TV program host's views and lacks supporting data. There is no concrete physical proof of Bigfoot, despite decades of intensive searching and centuries of mythology. I hope Bigfoot is real, but we have hard facts to contend with. The scientific literature has not reported any confirmed specimens, nor have other labs verified any DNA samples or found any bodies. Wildlife biologists have examined British Columbia's forests, the site of these purported observations, and have meticulously documented the region's real huge creatures. The article's credibility is further undermined by its source. The revelation of a cryptozoologist hosting a Discovery documentary series as the main witness presents a clear conflict of interest. Instead of referencing credible wildlife experts or peer-reviewed research, the piece relies on the observations of a person with a financial stake in spreading Bigfoot myths. The writing style itself calls into question the article's dependability. In addition to using sensationalist language and ambiguous allusions to unidentified "experts," it falls short of fundamental journalistic requirements for objectivity and verification. It appears to be more for amusement than factual reporting, given its placement next to other claims about the paranormal and aliens. By passing off conjecture as fact and eschewing the exacting standards of evidence necessary for valid scientific inquiry, this kind of reporting feeds into pseudoscientific ideas. It illustrates how the media may advantage over the public's interest in Bigfoot and cryptids while downplaying the significance of confirmed scientific data.