#bigfoot ass pose

[fishiteeth]

You really should stay out of the woods. Nothing good ever happens out there.

[legokingfisher]

Watching drs1 with my buddies and we got to talking about how Lloyd didn’t make appearances to ninjago city/people thought he was dead. And one of my buddies was like. What if he’s been like. A cryptid. There’s blurry photos of a green thing zooming between rooftops. A zoomed-in grainy ass image circulating where he’s doing The Pose (you know the one. The bigfoot one). A corner of social media that does nothing but find and speculate about how the green ninja is Totally still alive and running around

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Not really an ask(im still trying to pick a good one to ask), but i was going thought my notes i wrote down for your blog and i found this, this whole situation is so funny to me.

-Somewhere, outhere there is a photo/video of Rain, completely naked, full ghoul form, doing the bigfoot pose in from of a lake that he was ready to swim in. Yes, it was taken by some teens that were trespassing, yes it ended up on some 'strange creature caught on camera' videos, yes he gets a mag/tshirt with that photo every year for Halloween/summoning day.

Too bad, because this is so hilarious I HAVE TO ADD TO IT! XD

Rain Being Caught as a Cryptid

~Rain was shitting his pants when this first happened because he thought he was going to get in big trouble. All he wanted to do was use the lake saved for water ghoul recreation! How was he supposed to know someone had a CAMERA?

~But he wasn't blamed, because this occurred on Private Ministry Grounds. The teens were definitely trespassing and were hunted down immediately.

~Unfortunately, they had posted the video of Rain onto the internet. Aside from destroy the phone that held the pictures and video; there was only so much the Clergy could do as a cover up.

~The video went viral so fast. Rain was dubbed "The Lake Merman Cryptid".

~What ended up happening was a stressful, week long campaign of exposing the videos and pictures online as 'fake'. When the teens were found the Ministry made sure that the uploading account 'come out' about 'the truth.' That the videos of Rain were "TOTALLT JUST MAKE UP EFFECTS GUYS! SORRY!! THIS WAS JUST AN ART PROJECT LOL". Luckily, the internet bought it. No one is sure what happened to the teens, but no one really cared.

~Rain is not ashamed of his appearance or being caught nude... but man, he has NOT lived this incident down.

~The rest of the band find it hilarious. Sodo loves it the most. Every time the tour bus passes a lake or a beach Sodo will IMMEDIATELY look at Rain. "Don't let the humans catch you bare assed AGAIN!!"

~Every time someone online makes merch of this Internet favorite 'Hot Mermaid Cryptid' the other ghouls will buy it. The ghouls especially love that it went viral because that means Rain gets drawn in all styles of fanart. They have stickers, art prints, and even one well made keychain of the "Lake Merman" and Bigfoot high fiving.

~Every anniversary of the internet video posting they get Rain a new piece of merch. Sodo likes to call it BARE ASS LAKE DAY!! Rain both loves and despises it.

[thefiresontheheight]

bad vibes: heavily posed trans woman having some unseen photographer taking high quality photo of her, clearly geared towards semi-official release

best vibes ever: girl with a dozen disorders and the worst fashion sense imaginable taking a somewhat horny mirror selfie in her grimy-ass bathroom. there are videos of bigfoot with better focus and resolution than it. semi-visible bulge

[applesontheground]

white whale 🍎

my christening of writing a robert englund character has happened, and it’s not for who you’d anticipate it to be...

honest to god, this was my real introduction to him (but i’ve seen his other work, of course, so stay tuned lol) and i have been playing with an idea with him for a hot second... but that little idea spiraled into a two-part thing. once again, i am being a dream job-influenced menace and i don’t plan to shut up about it any time soon.

(p.s. i will admit it was hard not to focus on leslie, and i failed pretty hard with this opening lmao-)

SFW | Word Count: 1,765 | Doc Halloran x GN Reader

contains reader busts their ass (not in a sexy way), slight stalking/paranoia mentions

🎼: x

➡ continued in holy grail

The things you did for a good shot.

On the side of a steep hill, you were only semi-sure that the rock under your feet would stay embedded in the earth long enough for you to stand on it. Rather, crouch like your back had the sort of stamina to hold a pose of this precision. A lone owl sounded off somewhere, catching your attention as you dared stick your tripod on another flat surface below the rock, haphazard in your form as you turned the camera on.

Field work was a requirement for this autumn’s multimedia class, which meant they wanted plenty of practice obtaining “B-Roll”, filler images to use while the meat of an audio track played in a final cut. The professor had even said, “Never such thing as too much,” so here you were. It was well past 10PM and you were sitting like a goddamn gargoyle trying to get a high enough angle to view the tree line. You started spinning the lens slowly, getting a healthy amount of focus to the nearly full moon.

From your bottom peripheral, your eyes shot down to see someone wading through the forest. He was near silent, so you felt fortunate to have better luck with your eyes in the moment, silently observing with your neck craning from behind the camera. It was definitely a man, you deduced, even though his gait was akin to Bigfoot as he hopped over a few rocks and brambles that he was trying to avpid.

He then stopped, back faced towards you on the mountain, and a low-lit outline of overall straps were strained over his shoulders as he took something out from the brush. Glances of his face from where you could see it gave way to a flat, round mask covering most of his identity. Without thinking, curiosity immediately taking control, you looked back to the camera and began zooming in on him. Turning the knob and doing anything in your amateur power to try and correct the lighting, you finally saw what he was holding up.

A closed bear trap, the U-Shape recognizable but giving you doubt at how cartoonish it almost felt to see one in real life. That soon gave way to a tight realization that there was no bear, or no animal for that matter caught between its teeth. Spattered with mud and a more streaked, thinner liquid alongside of it, you barely made out the crooked fingers of a forearm and hand without an owner as he released the trap with a swift, steady pull of his own arm. The appendage fell back into the brush, and when you flexed your hand to try and bring feeling back into your chilling body, your thumb had been pressing on the record button in a strike of mortified pressure, releasing it again with clammy skin.

“Fuckin’-ey.” You gasped, and that was when a shuffle of brush a few paces too close made your head snap away from watching the man.

Another body was seen, but that was all you caught before the reflex of jumping from the crouch sent you backwards. You gasped, already parallel to the side of the mountain as your legs gave way and skidded on loose dirt. One second, you watched the body at the top of the mountain stand straighter, a hand going out to try and catch you to no avail. The next your knee was embedding into the slanted earth as your head snapped to look back at the other body, now distracted and taken back to see others out here with him.

Both were frozen, watching you continue to slide and tumble down the mountain. You couldn’t help the noises you made, “Ach, fuck- God! Ow, god damn it-“ Finally, when you fell into a few unforgiving but large bushes at the foot of the hill, you stayed stock still. Head still spinning, you were whacked along the spine by your tripod tumbling after, but grabbed it by the camera still screwed on top and started blindly getting to your feet.

Your ankle was rolled, sharp pain shooting up and down your calf as you found a stride that had to be fast enough to disappear as quickly as you had been found. You didn’t listen for any voices, and it seemed that no one came after you. Eyes stinging from dirt and leaves having swat at them, you just kept running.

What was going on?

More importantly, why the hell did I try to get a photo of it??

The waitress brushed your t-shirt’s sleeve as she approached with your order. She did a double take at your empty mug, recalling you had needed it filled what was barely ten minutes ago. Looking up at her an apologetic frown, she gave you a smile. “I’ll get you another one, dear.” She assured as she took it, “College student, I’m guessing?”

“You guess right.” You sighed, hearing her quaint chuckle as her heels clicked off again.

Sitting in a shoddy little diner at 6:30 AM was all you could do without the paranoia eating you alive. It was better than just laying in bed back at your place, unable to close your eyes for more than a couple minutes at a time. The evening before had felt so far away, but it was only a handful of hours all at the same time. You put a hand on your bruising knee, itching the scab that had grown over a fresh scrape. It was at least disinfected and bandaged under your pant leg, which was some kind of reparation from going chest first down a rocky hillside.

If you had to be frank with yourself: that wasn’t what was causing you the exhaustion. You glanced out the window again, the sun taking longer and longer each day to rise from the myriad of suburban-esque buildings in Glen Echo, the bricks still a murky blue, not yet touched by golden dawn and brought to life. Eyes wandered back inside, and the waitress set the refilled mug down by your folded arms as you gave her a nod in thanks.

When your eyes left her again, you then realized there was someone looking at you from the other end of the dining room. You looked at your plate before the eye contact lingered, but your eyes were already growing, and there was no denying they were bloodshot as hell.

Fuck, that means his probably are too. Both of us had a late night.

You adjusted in your lonely booth, a hand running over your mouth as you gave another anxious glance out the window. Still, it didn’t stop him from standing from his seat, seeing that you were debating whether you were going to make a break for the door. He really thought low enough of you to anticipate a dine and dash; to be fair to him, you had been spotty enough to take off running from him before. He wasn’t even the one who had been setting up the murdering devices, and you were still frightened by the guy.

“Hello.”

Looking up from your coffee, you pretended to be surprised with the man now standing over the booth, like you hadn’t been watching the advancement in petrified dread. “…H-hello.” You played dumb, but he made you squirm again with a mulling, thorough stare, like he was analyzing your very posture, giving your obviously unnerved disposition its own character estimate.

He then stated, “You’re up rather early for someone who had been-“ You looked up at him in alert, and he was taken back by your mortified countenance. Still, he went on, “Staking out alongside me last night.”

“Okay,” You rolled your shoulders and quickly murmured, “What I was doing has no involvement with what I saw. I-I didn’t know that was what the camera was going to catch when I went out to the Vernon Farm.”

“No?” He breathed, unconvinced. Not sure what else to do, going into a muted panic, you decided to gesture to the empty seat across from you. He cast a disinterested glance at the chair, but then another pleading bob of your Adam’s apple from a guilty swallow was enough to get him to take it.

“I have never approached that man, but I…” You trailed off, looking around one last time before admitting, “Okay. I’m just a student, and I just needed a simple, local story for a school project.” You shook your head briskly, eyes staring into nothing as you laid it out for him, “I didn’t know there was…something lurking out there, just thought it’d be a goofy urban legend I’d cover with no dice on actually seeing anything, and then I’d get a grade for it and move on with my life.”

His eyes were losing their edge, listening to you go on, “I-if you’re a PI, or an officer, I’ll turn over my footage. I didn’t mean to write myself into this story or interfere with your investigation if that’s what you think I’m doing.”

The diner continued to bustle in an early morning lull while you were stuck in a limbo of silence. You sipped your coffee, the sound of the leather from his gloved hand finally releasing from its clench and setting flat on the table got you brave enough to look over at him again.

“I don’t believe it’s necessary.” He eased, and you breathed a sigh of relief from behind your folded hands. It only was sucked back up, seized in your chest again when he then mused, “Infact, I want to use it as means to help me.”

“What-?” You began, trying to smile, but his hand coming up to slow you in a definite gesture made you clam up again. “Yes, you’re amateur, but you have gotten closer to that man than I could even hope to despite not being one of his targets. You can’t deny that you faced him last night, correct?”

You merely nodded, and he shook his head, “I don’t think you understand how difficult that is. You’re lucky you weren’t maimed when he spotted you.”

I was lucky I didn’t maim myself, you concurred. You tapped your nail on the outside of the mug and weakly joked, “He must’ve had better fish to fry.” The man leaned forward slightly, and you finally looked him in the eye, seeing the world of knowledge you couldn’t even begin to understand quite yet.

“If we don’t stop him, my young friend, it’ll become far too many fish.”

[confetti-critter]

heres the WIP. I wanted to do a picture that had alt. design choices like more alien-like eyes, and more sprinkle looking markings on the body/head, and I wanted to experiment with using different colours (like not stark white for the body and stark black for the lines) so I colour picked from a picture of "internet" coloured crayola crayons cuz that seemed fitting. Here are the things I was stuck on:

-I wanted to add a pair of wings, but I couldn't get it to look right with the pose, and I couldn't figure out the colour/colours the wings would be anyway. I was trying to make them look like drain fly wings.

-I wanted to add a background to make it look more like the bigfoot photo I traced as a reference (maybe even blur it. Also put a red circle around it like you see in those old cryptid photos lol)

-I wanted to try shading

anyway. gleeby deeby ass

oh, here's the crayons too (the colours I picked were plug+play pink, on-line orange, world wide web yellow, point+click green, web surfin' blue, and www.purple lol):

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 71

Wishful Thinking/The Lazarus Experiment

“Wishful Thinking”

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: why is this looking a lot like the one with the ghost ship? I know it’s not. Ok so no one died…I don’t think???

From the recap—I…it shouldn’t cause so many fluttery heart feelings to hear Cas say they were going to smite an entire town, but here we are…I’m gonna miss this Castiel

Ok but like…who on this show ISN’T at least kind of a dick?? You can’t just say that about the Uriel

Your dedication to the job is heartwarming, Dean…has nothing to do with the fact that the ghost is haunting a women’s shower, I’m sure

Stop. Stop. You can’t just name the fake book you’re ‘writing’ supernatural…

“There’s a Bigfoot out there dammit, and he’s a son of a bitch”

I do not remember this episode AT ALL. Wtf is happening?? I know there’s allegedly a wishing well but what are these people even wishing for??

The fairy tales episode I could handle, but this is WEIRD

I am DYING. So this Bigfoot is apparently this little girl’s teddy bear? And the Winchesters are posing as teddy bear doctors to be able to see it…this is fantastic. Omg omg omg how did I block this out of my memory?? The teddy bear who came to life, became human adult size, and is now despairing at the fact that it’s now gained consciousness…but all Audrey wants to do is have tea parties with him, but he’s DEPRESSED depressed…which the boys are calling ��lollipop disease” to placate her and get her to leave for a while

I guess the safest thing is to wish for a sandwich (still got E. coli from it)

That’s… that’s a dark wish, Sam. I mean, I get it, but damn.

I bet the kid who stopped chasing the other kids asked Dean if he had a problem is the first wisher…that’s the only reason I can see for including him so far

THE TEDDY BEAR JUST TRIED TO BLOW ITS BRAINS OUT BUT IT HAS NO BRAIN JUST STUFFING SO IT’S STILL ALIVE

It’s not the engagement, that’s too obvious…oh god, she barely has free will.

Hang on, it IS that guy who wished for the engagement?? Then what’s the deal with the mean looking kid???

Can’t believe they hit the invisible kid with the car and…

Oh, THAT’s the point of the mean looking kid. Give him super strength and make him yell “KNEEL BEFORE TODD!!” because…of course his name is Todd. It’s the perfect name. Dean just tried to “with great power comes great responsibility” him and got hit in the face for it

Hoooooooly shit. Hope just got Sam electrocuted out of nowhere.

Oh. Oh, Todd. Aw, but Dean helping him not be bullied anymore anyway.

Sorry, there’s a lot of moving pieces in this episode

Oh no…Dean DOES remember EVERYTHING from hell, and he thinks there’s no helping him and he just has to live with that and shoulder it all alone. I hate it.

“Been On My Mind…”: Nope. 7.

“The Lazarus Experiment”

God…I both can and can’t believe how quickly he tries to just dump Martha…🙄

Ahhhh!!! Mr Saxon mention again 💖

I love that all moms are suspicious of the Doctor

It’s weird to see non-Mycroft Mark Gatiss

Oh, are there—are there some side effects to extremely literal anti-aging?? Who would have seen that coming

Marthaaaaaaa!!! The Doctor does not deserve you and how clever you are!! Bravo you collecting a DNA sample from Not Mycroft

God, I know his DNA is constantly being rewritten but this hurts to see…I mean, kinda. These two aren’t necessarily good people, but the betrayal she suffers…

I think in my 20s I was annoyed with Martha’s mom being this concerned, and maybe she’s still being a TINY TINY bit overbearing (Martha was only gone 12 hours as far as she knows but still thinks there’s no way for Martha to become a doctor if she doesn’t focus??), but she’s not completely wrong

Man, I wish Tish was as suspicious of weird shit as her mother…

Ok but I wouldn’t trust the guy who shaded the Doctor either!!!

Oh he’s a MONSTER monster. Bug ass — I mean big ass scorpion looking thing with a terribly CGI’d face holy shit (bug ass really came from me not looking as I typed and it was too funny to let go)

The face doesn’t even look like Mark Gatiss either…..

Is this dude working for Mr Saxon?? That’s the only thing I can think as to why he’s so invested in this Doctor smear campaign

Honestly, this part in the cathedral is beautiful and haunting. You can almost feel bad for the guy…

Taking your sweet old time with that organ, aren’t you Doc?

Is he actually dead this time??

I wish Tish could go on just one trip. I think she’d like that

Episodes Since the Doctor’s Last Attempted Genocide: is it 3 now? This was probably a bad segment. I have a hard enough time keeping track of just the regular day number

[milkovski]

[Paranormal investigator AU]

mickmilkinvestigates: [set of two photos on insta. first: selfie, wearing a “bigfoot is real and he ate my ass” cap. second: blurry zoomed in photo of ian in the patterson-gimlin bigfoot pose]

[twasday]

𝕋𝕠𝕜𝕪𝕠 𝕆𝕣𝕡𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕤

Characters: Mikey|Manjiro Sano, Baji Keisuke, Takashi Mitsuya, Draken|Ken Ryuuguji, Smiley|Nahoya Kawata, Luna Mitsuya, Mana Mitsuya, Mentions of Takemichi Hanagaki

Genre: Crack, possibly fluff

Warnings: Cussing, Violence, Smiley accusing his friends of being racist AS A JOKE

Summary: Mitsuya wants his friends to help him with modeling for his next competition but all they do is provoke each other and it ends with Smiley and Baji in the ER. 

A/N: I had fun projecting through Smiley they seem like the kinda person to say something is racist when there is the smallest inconvenience. I’m not extremely happy with this but I do think it's a start. 

Smiley is Black, Non-binary, and uses They/Them pronouns. Baji is Hispanic and speaks Spanish.

“My ass doesn’t look fat enough in this dress Mitsuya.” 

Mitsuya rolled his eyes as he heard Baji complain about the dress he forced him to model in for his next competition. Baji had his backside facing the mirror as he kept one hand on his hip, turning around to get an image of his figure. “It’s not outlining the hourglass figure that I worked years for, this is simply tyranny.” Baji swept his hair behind his ear, slightly annoyed. 

“There wasn’t much in the back to begin with, you should be glad that dress gives you any shape at all.” Draken taunted as he fixed the jet-black lace corset that squeezed his abdomen perfectly, paired with black velvet bellbottoms, and fishnet underneath that went above his belly button to decorate his v-line.  

“Draken, You're built like a fucking iPod. You have no room to talk, bigfoot.” Baji shoots back as Mitsuya tugs on the lace at the bottom of the dress, concentrating on fixing it to line up to his liking. 

“Mitsuya did amazing work on these pieces, you’re both just ugly as shit. Couldn't be me though, y’all stay safe.” Smiley says as Luna attempts to do their makeup. 

They both whip their heads around irritated by the comment “Guys please shut up, holy shit.” Mitsuya quickly cuts off their bickering to get some peace to work. 

They grumble little apologies as luna contently finishes up the red graphic eyeliner look that formed a heart around Smiley's eyes and a heart lipstick that made their cupid's bow pop. It went well with the frilly white flower dress which went about mid-thigh and had a bow tied in the front and puffy short-sleeved arms. 

“All done Hoya! You look like a pretty princess.” Luna exclaimed excitedly watching as Smiley twirled around gently, the dress perking up at their every movement. 

“Thank you, Luna. You did such a good job, I love the look.” They smiled softly at the small girl who beamed at the praise. 

“Mitsuya these clothes seem a little too casual to be part of some big ass competition, no offense I like ‘em,” Mikey said from the other side of the room, distracted by a sports magazine. “And why can't I dress up too? I have a rather slender build ya know.”

“Mike, this is just a local competition. I wanted to attempt some new stuff so I didn't wanna go too big with this piece but I still wanna make my mark.” Mitsuya swats Baji’s hand away from fiddling with the dress again. “Also, these pieces aren’t built for tiny petite kids like you there are other people with different body types,” Mitsuya grumbles quietly. 

“You mean built like a door frame? If I was a judge this would be unappealing. Who wants to go to a show to see goldie locks and a leash kid? Count me out please.” Mikey lazily states not even flinching at the harsh yells that Draken and Baji follow up with. 

“I think all of you look very cool no matter how your body looks! You’re all very handsome.” Mana happily states with a cute smile, hoping to get them to stop screaming at one another.

“Girl, don't lie to them. God took no time on those Duplo building block bitches. I was sculpted by that man's bare hands, just look at this waist.” Smiley intervenes while admiring themself in the mirror, lightly swaying and posing. 

 Chaos ensues. Baji launches at Smiley, getting them into a chokehold quickly. Smiley claws at Baji's arms, hoping to get some air, in the process of laughing hysterically. Mitsuya runs to get them off of each other, not entirely caring about the fight but just about his fashion pieces. “IM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU TWINK,” Baji yelled as he strangled smiley. 

“Is it because I’m black?? Oh wow, I thought we were better than this Keisuke-” Draken easily pulls them out of the mix before Baji suffocates them. 

“I hate you guys oh my god." Mitsuya seethes angrily, "next time I'll ask Hakkai for help, you all are freaking animals.” 

“Just call me a monkey and be done wit’ it.” Smiley huffs, rubbing their neck hoping to soothe the pain.

Mitsuya turns his head rigidly “You are on thin ice, Nahoya. You should be glad you’re killing that dress.” 

 Smiley cheers hoarsely. “Trip and fall down some fucking stairs bitch.” Baji hisses at them in Spanish.

“Did you just call me the n-word? In Spanish??” Smiley provokes Baji once again with a shit-eating grin.

 Baji leaps to sock Smiley in the face, ultimately breaking their nose. Chaos erupts again as they beat the shit out of each other. Both of them ended up in the hospital that night. Baji with a dislocated shoulder, a busted chin, and Smiley with a broken nose and a sprained ankle. "This isn't as half bad as last week when Baji beat the fuck out of Takemichi for being in the bathroom for too long.” Baji giggles at the memory that Mikey brings up.

Mitsuya bores his eyes into the floor below him “All of you are on my hit list sleep with one eye fucking open.” 

Here was the inspo for the fits:

Draken | Baji | Smiley <3

[notabonestealer]

@kwanisms-replies the second pic is the bigfoot ass pose i was talking about the other day 😭

PAUSE bc i've just realized i missed bobby day 😭

so here are some low-quality, mildly cryptid-like pictures of this high-quality, sunshine of a man. happy belated birthday, bestie 🫶

photos taken by yours truly. © September 2023 nebulousbrainsoup. do not repost.

[mst3kproject]

Caltiki, the Immortal Monster

We've talked about how there are an awful lot of fishman movies.  There are way too many Bigfoot movies.  There are even a surprising number of movies about monsters named Paul, but one thing I swear I never thought would be in two different movies is growing space blobs in the Mexican jungle.  Yet here we, are following up The Flame Barrier with Caltiki, the Immortal Monster. The cast includes Gérard Herter from Secret Agent Super Dragon and Daniele Vargas from Hercules Unchained. Mario Bava insists he didn't direct this but Riccardo Freda says he did, while most film websites blame both of them.

Long, long ago, the Maya were doing math and building pyramids in Mexico when a sudden unknown cataclysm forced them to abandon their cities. In the present (or at least the 60s), a group of scientists have come to the ruins to see if they can solve this mystery.  Two of them venture into a cave, and only one returns, raving about Caltiki, a Mayan goddess.  The rest of the party set out to find out what happened and perhaps rescue the other man, but instead discover a huge carnivorous blob monster!  Most of this beast is destroyed by crashing a gasoline truck into it, but they take a sample back to Mexico City with them for analysis.  Because that's a great idea that won't bite them in the ass at all.

The opening titles of this movie tell us that it is 'based on an ancient Mexican legend'.  I don't know anything about Mexican folklore but I did look through the List of Mayan Gods and Supernatural Beings page on Wikipedia and there are no names there that you can remotely bend into 'Caltiki'.  I'm going to assume this movie has about as much to do with ancient Mexican legends as Village of the Giants has to do with H. G. Wells' Food of the Gods. The same credits also tell us that the dancer we see ripping her own clothes off in some 'native ceremony' was a woman named Gay Pearl. The early 60's was around when the word 'gay' stopped being used to mean anything other than 'homosexual', so I suspect she changed it shortly thereafter.

Although the basic premise of a growing space blob in the jungles of Mexico is strongly reminiscent of The Flame Barrier, in several ways Caltiki, the Immortal Monster takes an opposite approach to telling the story.  One of the things that made The Flame Barrier kind of annoying was how it puttered around in the jungle with character-driven stuff for ages before it even introduced the monster.  Caltiki goes almost entirely in the other direction.  The first thing we see is the aftermath of a monster attack, with the dying archaeologist staggering back to camp.  In the minutes that follow, we watch the rest of the expedition puzzle over what happened to their colleagues, but we have almost no idea of who they are.  Most of the character development has to wait until they get back to Mexico City.

Unfortunately, the characters are really not very interesting people.  Our supposed hero is the dishwater-dull Dr. John Fielding, who is one of those movie science guys whose significant other whines because he would rather look down a microscope than gaze into her eyes.  Fielding promises his wife Ellen that he'll pay more attention to her, and I guess he does because next time we see him he appears to be happy with her and their little daughter, but if I were to call the issue 'minimally addressed' I would be giving it way too much credit.  The other subplot in the movie is about a mixed-race woman named Linda (repeatedly described as a 'half-breed') and her relationship with one of the archaeologists, Max.  Max was a dick to begin with, and when he goes mad with pain after being attacked by the blob monster he only gets worse.  He never seems very interesting or threatening, and since the audience knows there's a blob monster coming, we feel our time is being wasted.  Linda, as the only major character who isn't white, is killed when Max decides she is no longer useful to him.

Another place where Caltiki does exactly what The Flame Barrier didn't, but with far better results, is with the monster itself.  In The Flame Barrier the space blob was immobile and basically just looked like somebody spilled a truckload of petroleum jelly.  The blob of Caltiki, however, truly is the coolest thing in the movie.  It's a pulsating, leathery mass that reproduces by stickily dividing in two, and dissolves people's flesh to leave only their skeletons.  There were worse monsters on Star Trek: the Next Generation nearly thirty years later.  Not only that, but the blobs are active, able to roll around and grow to engulf screaming victims, with a satisfying sense of weight and volume to their movements.  There are also some pretty good gore effects, my favourite of which is a guy who's still breathing despite having had his face dissolved.

The Flame Barrier kept its blob in the distant jungle, where the only people it was menacing were three explorers and a chimp.  We were told about the threat of its exponential growth, but that was fairly abstract.  In Caltiki we still don't get the city-smashing rampage depicted in one of the posters, but just knowing that the city is there and having Fielding's wife and daughter around to be chased by swarms of blobs makes the threat feel far more concrete.

So this movie gets right a lot of things the other Mexican Space Blob movie got wrong, but I wouldn't be reviewing it if it wasn't still a bad movie.  The dull characters and the refusal to deal with their arcs is one big problem.  Another is the poor picture quality.  The lighting is mostly good enough that you can tell where people are and what they're doing, but the film stock itself is not very good, which makes for a loss of detail.  In some of the wide shots you can't tell who's supposed to be talking because it's impossible to see whose mouths are moving.  In another, Fielding consults a book that appears to consist entirely of blank pages.

The dubbing is also not great.  Fielding and his wife have very bland voices, which is a big contributor to them seeming like very bland characters.  The guy voicing Max gnaws on the scenery, sounding like a villain from an old Disney movie.  Fielding's daughter Jenny has the voice of an adult woman trying to talk like a child, and it sounds even worse than the same thing did in Manos: the Hands of Fate.

The script is pretty ham-fisted at times, particularly in the character scenes that tell us things far more often than they show us.  Much of this is the fault of whoever wrote the English dialogue, but there's also the series of ridiculous plot devices that prevent anyone from warning Ellen Fielding that the blob in her basement has begun to grow.  First, Max escapes from the hospital and goes to the house to get help from Linda, and pulls out the phone cord so nobody can turn him in.  One of the scientists, finding no answer on the phone, tries to drive out to the house to talk to Ellen, but gets into a car crash.  The police block the road off while they investigate the wreck, and Fielding runs the road block in his own haste to get home, leading him to be arrested and thrown into jail!  I have to admit, it was pretty funny just watching these contrived events pile up.

As far as having a point to make goes, Caltiki, the Immortal Monster kind of shaves by one in two different places, but never quite gets there.  For starters, there's the idea of archaeology as a treasure hunt.  When the diver first ventures into Caltiki's sacred underground lake, he finds the bottom littered with bones but also with the gold jewelry the sacrificial victims were wearing.  He returns to the surface and does not even mention the skeletons, but brings fistfuls of gold and goes back for more despite the risk of running out of oxygen.  I suppose he is punished for this, as is Max when he tries to retrieve a piece somebody else dropped, since they're both attacked by the blob.  It doesn't really qualify as a thematic thread, though, since the gold is never mentioned again. For the rest of the movie, the characters are motivated by scientific interest in the blob itself.

This leads into what's sort of a second motif, people disregarding the danger posed by the blob.  Fielding has a sample he wants to study (the movie has no idea what kind of scientist he is.  An archaeologist?  A microbiologist?), and upon discovering that radiation makes it grow, he pumps more into it to see what happens.  He and his colleagues are admittedly more cautious about this than the characters  in Reptilicus, but the idea's still there: scientists who think they have everything under control, but don't understand how dangerous what they're working with really is.  Again, this doesn't really go anywhere.  At the end they about-face and insist on destroying every scrap, not even leaving enough for an “... or is it?” ending.

Caltiki, the Immortal Monster comes very close to being so bad it's good.  There's plenty of stuff to laugh at, while the actual monster is threatening and well-executed enough to be entertaining in the way it was intended to be.  If the film-makers had diverted a little of that money into better film stock, I probably would have enjoyed the movie very much.

[thiswasinevitableid]

#7 with Sternclay, for the prompts?

Here you go!  I went NSFW

#7: I’m assigned to write a piece rounding up all the bad press that you, a famous celebrity, have been getting and you show up in my office and demand me to write a retraction and get the ‘real’ story”

Barclay is so excited; he’s going to be spending two weeks on the Dual Mesa set, writing an exclusive behind the scenes story that’s sure to give the magazine a big sales boost. 

“Ah, Barclay, come in.” Ned Chicane, the show’s director, ushers him into his office, “I assume they told you we will be leaving to shoot on location tomorrow?”

“Yes, I, uh, I’m really honored that you chose Q to run your story; your cast is so diverse, it really resonates with our readers.”

Ned waves a hand in faux-humility, “Why create a show with paranormal elements that simply recreates homogeneity? However, my dear boy, you were not chosen by me.”

“I requested it.” Barclay turns as a tall man with dark hair enters the office, and has the sudden urge to hide under the nearest table. The man currently staring him down with bright blue eyes and a mild-yet-clearly displeased expression is Joseph Stern, star of Dual Mesa and subject of a very unflattering article Barclay published a week ago.

“Look, Mr. Stern, I-”

“Quiet.” Stern holds up his hand, “I asked Ned to give Q a boost by granting access to the shoot because I think the magazine does excellent work. I asked for you to give you a chance to prove yourself.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Your writing is quite good, but clearly your research and fact checking needs some work.”

“Just because you don’t like it-”

“I don’t, but that’s not the issue. You published things that are patently false and easily provable as such. For instance, the claim that I got this role by sleeping with the director has two major flaws; one, Ned is not my type.”

“There’s no accounting for poor taste.” Ned says, clearly unbothered, 

“And two, Mr. Mosche would break my fingers if I tried to fuck his husband.” He points to the corner of the room where a large, tattooed man sits reading.

“Right you are.” He looks up long enough to reply. 

“And anyone on set could have told you that. Whatever your sources were, you didn’t do due diligence. So you’ll be trying again.”

“Look, buddy, where do you get off giving me orders?”

“By being the star they’d have the hardest time killing off.”

“And by raising good points.” Ned stands, “asking for a flat retraction would reflect poorly on the show, as it would look as if we were trying to hide the truth. This allows you to correct misconceptions as well as get exclusive looks at next season.”

“You’re literally a paid actor, how the hell do I know you aren’t faking these two weeks?” 

“You won’t be spending all your time with him; you’ll be interviewing others as well and have opportunities to observe him without him knowing.” Ned pats Barclays shoulder, “but he will be responsible for introducing you to the rest of the cast” 

Barclay glances at Stern, who lifts an eyebrow with a smirk.

“So. Have fun with that!” 

-----------------------------------------

The introduction the next day goes as well as trying to light a match in a hurricane. Stern is polite and professional when Barclay arrives, introduces him to the cast and the main crew without mentioning the article. But it’s clear Barclay’s reputation precedes him.

“You really got Joe figured all wrong.” Duck Newton, who plays good-hearted Sheriff Frank Roosevelt on the show, pulls Barclay aside as Stern and co-star Aubrey Little (who plays Lucille, a plucky young woman with a dark past) get ready to shoot. 

“So everyone keeps saying, but I didn’t make that stuff up. It turned up when I researching him.”

“Don’t mean someone else didn’t just pull it out of their ass.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Barclay sighs, rubbing his forehead. 

“Look, all I know is Joe’s been nothin but kind a professional to me. I’d even call him a friend. Know he can come off as intimidatin and rigid sometimes, but he’s a good guy.”

Barclay hears variations of this sentiment over and over during the next two days. It’s part of why he’s currently sitting inside his motel room not far from the main set, eating dinner alone. Indrid, the costume designer had actually invited him to eat with a few members of the crew.  Barclay demurred. If the bulk of the people on set think he’s a jerk, he doubts they’ll be that open to getting to know him. Plus, he’s kind of humiliated at how little actual evidence he can find for the claims against Stern, and doesn’t want to give the other man a chance to gloat. 

There’s a knock on the door, and he opens it to find the last person he expects, or wants, to see. 

“Good evening, Barclay.” Out of costume, Stern almost looks ordinary. There’s still the unfair symmetry of his face, the way he makes jeans and t-shirt look somehow sophisticated. 

“Uh, something you need from me?”

Stern looks past him to his cobbled together dinner; Barclay’s a good cook, but the damn room doesn’t have anything more than a microwave. 

“The chance to buy you an actual dinner.”

Barclay’s about to point out that he’s not eating in the commissary tent because of Stern when the actor adds, “please?”

He grabs his wallet and joins Stern in the still-warm evening air, following him into the few blocks that make up downtown Sagebrush, the former mining town that makes up much of Dual Mesa’s background. He expects them to stop at the Mizpah, the sole fancy hotel and restaurant, but Stern guides him past it and into a kitschy diner. 

They study their menus in silence, the pleather booths squeaking awkwardly whenever one of them moves. 

Barclay orders the burger plate that comes with a slice of pie and Stern, surprisingly goes for an omelette off the all-day breakfast menu.

“Barclay I, well, it’s obvious we got off on the wrong foot. I want you to know that as much as the article upset me, I don’t want you to be miserable while you’re here. No ones going to shun you for what you wrote.”

“Pretty clear they’re all on your side.” Barclay sips his water, meeting Stern’s gaze.

“There don’t need to be sides; you want to write an accurate profile of what it’s like on set, and I want to not have my name dragged through the mud anymore. Those come out to be the same thing.”

“You seem real fucking confident.” Barclay narrows his eyes. 

Stern’s hackles go up, but then he sets his hands on the table with a measured breath, “I don’t pretend to be perfect, Barclay. I’m aware, well aware, of my flaws. But none of those flaws match what you wrote about me. I’m not asking to look untouchable in your piece, I’m asking to look like myself.”

Barclay looks down, spots him nervously shredding his napkin. As he’s thinking, a teenager in a tricolor tank-top approaches the table. 

“Um, sorry, but are you Joseph Stern? The guy who plays agent Hooper?”

Stern smiles, genuine and reassuring, “I am.”

“Could I, uh, get a picture? Like a selfie?” 

“Of course.”

Barclay watches Stern pose with the kid and compliment his pride shirt, before waving goodbye as he scurries back to his table to show his friends the photo.

“That doesn’t bother you?”

Stern shakes his head, “It happens pretty often, especially in town where most people know what I look like in my street clothes, so I’m used to it. Besides, for a lot of these kids there’s more than just the celebrity angle. I can count the number of gay, trans, Asian-american actors on T.V when I was kid with one hand,” He holds up a fist to indicate a zero, “if the price of being that person for kids now is posing for some pictures, I’ll pay it any day.”

Warmth blooms in his chest, the sincerity making him want to trade a truth in return, “Yeah, I remember looking for guys like me and not seeing them. I’d just pick a character I liked and kinda projected. Except the X-Files; then I just had a huge fucking crush on Mulder. Oh, thanks.” He smiles at the waitress as she sets his food down.

“I know that feeling. Somewhere there are pictures of me dressed as him for a Halloween party.”

“Heh, I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in ages.” Barclay munches on a fry, “Last three times I went as Bigfoot. It was an easy costume and kept my face hidden.”

“That’s a shame for the other party-goers.”

Barclay coughs, choking on his fry, as Stern blushes, shoves a piece of toast into his mouth, and changes the topic to books. 

The next day, when Barclay arrives on location and everyone is milling about getting ready to shoot, Stern pats the chair near his own and talks with him until he’s needed on camera. Over the next week, Barclay finds himself next to Stern more often than not, comparing notes on the mystery novels they’ve been passing back and forth, or explaining his job moonlighting as a cookbook editor, or listening to the actor describe his travels to the locations of famous cryptid sightings. What surprises him most is how charming he finds Stern when he’s nowhere near a camera. On set, in character as Special Agent Alex Hooper, he radiates the quiet charm that makes his character so beloved. When they’re alone it’s different, a little less polished and little nerdier, and rather than captivating him it makes Barclay want to protect him.

It turns out that slips of the tongue happen to Stern a lot, at least when he’s around Barclay. “Sec” routinely becomes “sex” and comments about Barclay’s size and strength come often, Stern always sheepish afterwards. As if his attention is something Barclay may not want rather than something he craves like a four-course meal. 

When he starts daydreaming about asking Stern back to his motel room after one of their now-regular dinners together (that Stern always pays for), he knows he’s in trouble. 

“Helllloo?” 

He jumps, chuckles in surprise as Aubrey finishes waving her hand in front of his face, “Sorry, was thinking about dinner.’

“I was saying thanks for coming out while we shoot this. I know how hard it can be to pull away from your ‘muse’.” She wiggles her eyebrows and Barclay feels the blush overrun him. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll let him figure it out on his own.” Aubrey winks, the groans, “aw fuck here he comes.”

Robert Hayes, who plays the recurring role of Hooper’s supervisor, appears in the grove where they’re shooting a scene with just him and Aubrey. Barclay steps out of frame, Aubrey hissing “don’t leave me” as he does.

“I can’t believe Ned is letting Indrid do more alternative looks for you.”

“It works for Lucille.”

“It would work better if she was more conventionally attractive.”

Barclay growls under his breath; how dare this guy talk to his friend that way?

“Well, obviously not, because the audience likes me like this. And they have opinions worth listening too.”

The tension remains throughout the shoot, Barclay tensing every time Hayes opens his mouth. He pretends to be busy when the actor comes over to join him. 

“I’m glad you’re planning on expanding your take-down of Stern.”

“I never said that. I’m writing about the new season of the show.”

“If you want more information about what he’s really like, I’ll be happy to chat with you in private.” The older man pats his shoulder and heads off to his trailer. 

Barclay waits until he’s gone, then goes to look for Ned. He has a hunch the director might like to know about Haye’s offer. 

-------------------------------------------

“...guess Ned put him in his place.” Stern finishes adjusting his tie as the scene sets up, “Sounds like he wanted his character to become the eventual lead, and thought shit-talking me would be the way to go.”

“I’m glad it’s sorted out.” Barclay pretends to be studying his notes so he doesn’t stare too noticeably at Stern’s ass.

“Me too. Thanks, Barclay.” Stern steps onto set, and as Ned begins running through the scene with Stern and the actor playing his (unbeknownst to him) alien lover, Bee, Barclay wishes he’d chosen to be elsewhere. Because this is a sex scene. With Stern. That he will be watching. 

No, damn it, he’s a professional. His butt is staying in this chair.

He makes it through the several takes of the dialogue just fine, starts sweating a little when he kissing begins. Stern’s kisses strike a balance between tender and passionate, perfectly in character, and Barclay would give his right arm to trade places with Bee. 

The action moves to the bed, Stern caressing his lover as they unbutton his shirt.

Okay, now he’d give his right arm and leg to be the one beneath him. 

He reminds himself this airs on TNT, not HBO, so it can’t get much more explicit.

Sterns whole body drips with soft dominance as he pins Bee to the bed, cooing that he’s never seen a finer sight.

Fine, his right arm, leg, and any non-vital organs, he’ll trade them all in a second to hear Stern say that to him, even if it’s only pretend. 

He doesn’t make it through the second take of the bed scene, hurries away as quietly as unobtrusively as he can. There’s no way he can make it to his motel like this, cock pressing so hard against his jeans he’s afraid he’ll end up with a zipper mark. And the bathrooms aren’t exactly private. He does have the key to Stern’s trailer, the actor having given it to him in case he needed somewhere air conditioned to rest from the heat. The trailer that is very nearby.

Does he dare?

The question hardly registers before he’s at the door, unlocking it and ducking inside before anyone sees. He leans against the counter with a groan, unzipping his pants and praying the pre-cum that immediately streaks his hand hasn’t made a noticeable spot in the denim. 

He fumbles around to find some tissues, not wanting to face the humiliation of Stern walking in to find him cleaning cum off of his cabinets (he does actually want that humiliation, and badly, but not without Stern’s consent).

The strokes are hard and fast, his eyes shut so tight he sees static as he imagines Stern behind him, saying how much he wants him, how needy he is, how he’ll take care of him. He grits his teeth, breath leaving him in faint hisses and stifled moans until the temptation to say Stern’s name overwhelms him. 

“Joe, Joe, fuck, Joe.”

“Yes, big guy?” A voice purrs in his ear as hands bracket him against the counter. 

“Fuck” He tries to freeze, finds he’s shaking too much from want and worry to do so. 

“You forgot to lock the door, silly boy. I, however, did not.”

“I’m, I’m sorry, I just needed to, fuck, I didn’t mean for you-”

One hand leaves the counter, strokes the base of his neck and toys with his hair, “what about this suggests I’m angry with this, um, development?”

Barclay whimpers, feet unwilling to turn and look Stern in the eye.

“Should I stop?” The tease goes from his voice.

All he can do is whimper again and shake his head.

The hand leaves his neck, slides down Barclay’s arm to rest atop his hand on the counter. The other takes it’s time snaking down his stomach and hips.

“Poor Barclay, no wonder you had to leave.” His hand nudges Barclay’s aside, takes it’s place around his cock, “you can probably see this thing from space. I’m taking this as a testament to my acting skills.” A laugh as he kisses Barclay’s neck, stroking him slowly. 

“Please don’t say this is acting too.” 

“It’s not.” A kiss to his cheek, a twist along his cock, both making him weak-kneed, “do you know what I was thinking about during that scene? I was thinking about you, what you’d look like if I fucked you. It’s only a quirk of anatomy” he grinds against Barclay’s ass,  “that means I didn’t have a noticeable reaction on camera.”

“Fuck, Joe, more, please I need more of you, all of you, I’m so fucking close.”

The hand on his cock pulls away, “not just yet, big guy. Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Uhuh.” He whines, pushing his hips forward to bump his cock along Stern’s hand. 

A light smack on the ass, “behave. Take everything off and wait for me on the bed.”

“Uh huh.” He turns, only for a hand to firmly grasp his chin and force him to stay eye to eye with Stern.

“Try that response again, big guy, with better manners.”

“Y-yes, s-sir, I, I understand.” 

He’s yanked into a demanding, possessive kiss, Stern stroking his cheek approvingly when he releases him, “Good boy. Is this alright?”

“Yes, yesyes, Joe, please, I love it, don’t stop.”

“I won’t, unless you say so. Promise you will if you need to?”

“I swear, cross my heart, babe, please.”

A loving laugh, coupled with a peck on the lips, “bed.”

Barclay strips so quickly he loses his balance, landing on the bed as he fights to pull off his pants. He tries to calm himself by folding his clothes and setting them aside, certain that if he gets more excited he’ll become the first confirmed case of human combustion.

“Hands and knees, please.” 

“Oh fuck me.” 

Stern is standing by the bed, naked from the waist down save for a strap-on, but still in his special agent clothes from the waist up. 

“Do you like the suit, big guy?”

“Yessir.”

“Good to know. Maybe next time I’ll wear the whole thing while I fuck you. Now” he climbs onto the bed, “try to relax for me.”

A condom-covered finger presses against his ass as soon as he’s on his hands and knees, Stern working him open efficiently yet gently until he’s begging for more. Stern ruffles his hair, and then the toy is pushing into him. It’s narrow, so the stretch isn’t too bad, and for a moment he wonders if it will even do much for him. 

“Let me see, if I just-”

“FUCKfuck”  The curve of the toy finds his prostate.

“That’s part of why this is a favorite of mine, it’s so effective” he thrusts harder, “at finding the right spots.”

“Mhhhmmmmm” Barclay bites the pillow to muffle his moans and growls, wiggles his hips as Stern finds his pace. 

“The other reason I like it…”

“SHIT, babe, baby, ohfuck that’s good.” The toy vibrates, sending heat all through him, “fuck, I’m gonna come in like th-thirty seconds from that.”

“Thirty seconds? Let’s see if you’re right, big guy.”

“GaaAAHfuck, Joe, yeah, yeahyesbabeyes.” He gives up on being quiet as the actor rams into him, drops to his elbows when the intensity makes it impossible to anything other than moan and and grunt and take it. 

“That’s it, good boy, let’s see just how hard you are for me” Stern pants as he reaches around, teasing the head of Barclay’s cock, “perfect, you’re doing wonderfully, fuck” a groan of gratification as Barclay spurts across the bed, “messy, god I love making you come apart, even I might make you clean that with you tongue later.”

“Oh god.” Barclay moans, drool staining the pillow, as Stern loops an arm tightly around his waist and grinds, the toy still bumping and rumbling inside his ass.

“Nnn, Barclay, yes, hold out just a little longer, let me get off on this perfect ass.”

Barclay whines, sensitivity overloading his circuits and driving him wild.

“Just a little more big guy, fuck, fuck, lord almighty I’m close, c’mon, you can handle it, you can be good and take me as long as I need.”

“Yes, yes, wanna take you, wanna be yours, wanna serve you.”

“Fuck” Stern doubles over, hips working frantically, “that’s it, good boy, if you’re in this bed you, fuck, your only job is to please me.”

“Yes” Barclay sobs just as Stern moans into his shoulder. When he pulls out, Barclay flops, limp, onto his side. 

“You with me, baby?” Stern wiggles out of the harness, lays so they’re face to face and cups Barclay’s cheek.

“Mmhmm. Fuck” he pulls Stern into a hug, “I can’t believe we just did that. That was fucking amazing.”

“Didn’t take you for the sub type.”

“Everyone always wants me to be big ‘n dommy. Don’t wanna. Wanna be someone’s good boy.” He’s slurring, mind still a bit foggy. 

“You can be mine. In, um in not just a sex way, although it can be just a sex thing if you want it to.”

“Nope” He cuddles him closer, then it hits him, “you’re asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“Please?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes” He kisses him after each answer, making them both laugh. 

“It won’t fuck up your work?”

“I’ll ask Mama what she thinks, we might need to transfer the rest of the article to Thacker. Uh, maybe this is silly but, uh, can I take you to dinner? My treat?”

Stern kisses him, stars in his eyes and a hundred watt smile on his face, “that sounds perfect, big guy.”

[delldarling]

forest rumors | aspen i

forest being x gender/body neutral reader 3000 words sfw | size difference, flirting

───── ❝ ❦ ❞ ─────

The rumors around Makeout Point have been flying about for at least a month now. They range from whispers and stifled laughter over Bigfoot jokes, to scared teenagers claiming something large and utterly frightening is living out there in the woods. No two people seem to have the same description at hand, but there are two words that stick out frequently when the rumors come up. Large and hairy. 

Despite the clear and utter lack of tracks, the general consensus is that a bear must be in the area. Nothing more than an animal, roaming in the wrong places, the papers have claimed. Skeptics repeat the words so often that outright panic is halted, even though the whispers continue. Especially after forest rangers comb the area and find no evidence of bears.  

You’re rather of the opinion that it’s more along the lines of an internet hoax though. Halloween is fast approaching, and people love to seize onto stories eerie in nature, just to give themselves a bit of a thrill. Besides, you’ve been coming here frequently for years. Makeout Point is just an old hiking trail that ends in a clearing. It’s perfect for teenage parties, complete with a fire pit made out of stones gathered from the woods or brought out specially by people that want to make a mark. During the day it’s nothing more than a nice place to wander about the trees and get away from the noise of the highway. 

It… Isn’t particularly hard to imagine the silly Bigfoot stories though. Most forests have always given off that trees have eyes vibe, but there are a few spots, particularly in the mouth of the clearing, that give you more than the chills, the feeling of something lives here. You’ve always simply chalked it up to the fact that the spot is old. You go out there anyway, despite the strange feeling, despite the rumors, because sometimes dealing with the local populace just sucks. And nature, if not always a forgiving entity, is still more soothing.  

You’ve always tended to err on the side of caution though, and generally time your visits for midday. Any earlier and frost peppers the ground, making any branches slick and dangerous, and you don’t feel like bundling up from head to toe. Not unless you absolutely have to. Any later and you risk running into couples of some sort, sometimes teens giggling and kissing, and sometimes people twice your age or more, looking to relive old memories with their spouses. Not to mention the darkness, which is almost absolute if you go wandering about in the evening.

“One day,” you mutter, cresting the hill that darkens from one step to the next. The trees grow thickly here, and the temperature drops sharply due to constant shade. “One day, I’ll bring someone out here with me.” You come to a stop under one of the trees, adjusting your sweatshirt, and then freeze when you hear a strange creaking noise. It sounds a bit like a branch bending, the creak of wood getting ready to break, and you can’t help cautiously lifting your head- but there’s nothing above you. Nothing out of the ordinary, anyway. Leaves shift in the breeze, small slivers of sunshine casting the illusion of water over the forest floor… You’re still alone. 

You would have heard someone stumbling about by now if you weren’t, but you can’t shake the feeling of something… something watching. It’s never been quite this eerie before, but the rumors have never been quite so widespread either. 

“Letting the stories get to me,” you say, sighing, and purposely turn away from the shadows deeper in the treeline. The back of your brain is almost insisting that you saw one of them move. You ignore it. Thoughts like that lend only to potential embarrassment. Or maybe a ridiculous run back down to the parking lot. “Maybe I should have asked for company,” you mutter wryly, “just to be safe.” 

The breeze picks up, chill air seeping through the weave of your clothes like it’s sole purpose is to make you shudder. You stamp your feet a few times, rubbing at your own arms and force yourself to get moving. The only way to get a bit of warmth running through you right now is by movement, and the sooner you get this walk over with today, the better. 

You shift branches out of the way with your feet as you walk, needles and leaves crunching underfoot. Despite the strange feeling, it’s calming out here. You can’t hear the cars any longer, and this time of year it’s always fairly quiet. Most of the birds have moved on by now. That, of course, probably lends to the eerie stories most of the locals have been passing around. It’s always easier to frighten someone in absolute silence under the trees. 

You’re scrambling over a fallen log when you realize the creaking - just branches in the wind, you tell yourself - is getting louder. Your eyes dart up to the trees overhead, wondering if some kind of storm is going to blow through here soon. You’ll have to speed things along if you don’t want to get caught by fallen limbs. 

“Did you truly want company? I would have come to you sooner.” 

The surprise has you tripping over your own feet. You slide through the leaves, just barely catching yourself before your face hits the ground and pause where you are, trying to regulate your breathing. And your irritation. 

“Have you just been waiting for someone to stumble through here?” You demand, slowly getting back to your feet and whirling about. The path behind you is empty. Just the same, shadowy trail you’ve been walking, peppered with the smallest hints of sunlight and stray branches. You brush your dirt sprinkled hands over your trousers, frowning. You didn’t imagine that voice. It was clearer than a bell, ringing in your ears, though the tone was… Off. “...uh, hello?” You ask softly, heart jack-hammering inside your rib-cage, eyes searching the area in vain. You still can’t spot anyone. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” someone says and their voice- It has every hair on your body standing on end. It echoes strangely, smooth and rough all at once as it fills your senses, and then the creaking noise comes to a rustling stop behind you. 

You turn, promising yourself that you won’t scream- and you have to lift your head to meet their eyes. They’re unbelievably tall, branches curving off of their head and away from their shadowed face like horn, and that creaking starts up again as they kneel slowly, balancing themselves with a splayed hand on the ground. They’re humanoid, you notice vaguely, in that they have a torso, arms and legs. But their eyes- all you can truly see of them is the faint reflection of daylight off of their dark irises. You haven’t screamed, but you’re finding it a little difficult to breathe, air catching in your throat.

Perhaps it’s an age old instinct: sitting on the ground and curling your arms over your head. Don’t see me, the pose screams, even though you know you don’t have a hope in hell of that happening. They’ve already seen you, they’ve been speaking to you, they claimed they were waiting for you. You want to kick the ass of the person that claimed Bigfoot was out here at Makeout Point because fucking Bigfoot doesn’t even begin to cover the ent-like being in front of you. You’re fairly sure that hand of theirs could wrap around your torso - you’re willing to bet that they’ve got Bigfoot beaten in foot size. Or would it be trunk size? Your eyes flash open, darting to where their feet should be, but- You can’t focus on that now and you close your eyes again.

“For… For me?” You finally ask in a choked tone, knowing the silence has gone on for too long. Don’t make the giant tree being angry, right? That’s a good piece of advice if you’ve ever heard one. Manners help every situation. 

“Yes,” they answer, and they’re closer. You can feel them looming over you, and there’s a faint, warmer breeze that makes you think it might be their breath.

“Ah.” You swallow, preparing yourself - it’s animatronic, your brain quickly lies, and then you’re hesitantly lowering your arms and lifting your face, just a little. You blink open your eyes, focusing on what you think is their shoulder, covered with moss and dotted with the tiniest mushrooms you think you’ve ever seen in your life. You don’t even attempt to glance at their face. Cute mushrooms feel… Safe. “And… And you are?” You ask, because manners.

“Hmm,” they sit back, slow and careful. Your eyes are drawn to their chest. It’s smoother there, void of moss, and the whorls and grain remind you of polished, petrified wood. “Aspen,” they say decisively, and you can’t help but wonder if they chose the name, just now. They don’t look like an aspen tree, not that you’re an expert in tree identification, but aspen trees are pale, nearly white with markings that remind many people of eyes. Aspen is… More of a gray. Silvery.

“Lovely,” you offer, and mean it. The name rolls off of the tongue and for all that they’re frightening because of their size? Their head tilts, a pleased noise rumbling out of them, and you can’t help it, you look back at their face - and then quickly away. It’s not that Aspen’s face is horrifying. You close your eyes, and you think that looking at them from an artistic viewpoint, they’re a wondrous creation. But Aspen is- is- The problem is that you don’t know what Aspen is, and you’ve never seen their like outside of movie screens. The real wonder here is that you’re still not screaming, and you haven’t passed out. 

“Lovely,” they repeat and then they’re reaching towards you, and your heart nearly gives out. One long branch of a fingertip strokes over your shoulder, and the touch is softer by far than you thought it would be, not even catching on the material of your sweatshirt. They repeat the motion as soon as they’ve finished, adjusting the pressure when they tip you over a little bit. 

“So,” you start, focusing back on their mushroomed shoulder, letting them stroke down your arm like you’re some kind of cat. They nearly upend you with every pass, but they’re being gentle. You can let it go. You don’t dare tell them to cease because they’re tall and likely strong and- “You, uh, are you from around here?” It’s strangely charming, having such a large creature fawning over you. 

Aspen makes another humming noise, pausing in their stroke to glance back towards Makeout Point proper. “I came into being here, yes,” they tell you. “I’ve watched for many years.”

You’re not sure you have a response for that. Is Aspen saying that- that they’ve watched Makeout Point for years? In which case, part of you wants to cringe. Some kind of forest.. Forest being and they’ve been an eternal witness to human lust and the fumbling about of teenagers? There’s love there too, you suppose, but having been raised in society- The thought of being trapped there, watching humans of varying ages copulate, isn’t exactly a good one.

“I’ve seen you here too, Lovely,” and it’s then that you realize: Aspen thinks your name is Lovely. You honestly don’t know how to go about correcting them, so you let it lie. 

“Yeah,” you say, nodding as Aspen resumes their careful stroking of your arm. “I- I come out here because I think it’s nice, the trees are gorgeous-” you halt, lips pressing together to stem the flow of words. Does that count as a compliment? What if they don’t call them trees, what if you’ve overstepped?

“Yes. You drew my interest,” they tell you and they turn their face to you again, their breath soft as it breezes over your cheeks. They smell like greenery. Crushed leaves and sweet grass, and the tang of pine.

You came out here for nothing more than your usual stroll through the woods. You’ve never been particularly verbose, walking through here, and you’re not sure exactly what made you stand out to them, but- “If you don’t mind my, my asking, Aspen, what exactly did I do that, uh, drew your interest?”      

They shift even closer, leaving off their stroking of your shoulder to reach both their hands towards your face. The movement has you closing your eyes again, heart ceasing it’s rhythm, as if any moment now you’re going to be crushed, so-

“You’re not the same,” Aspen murmurs, branch-like fingers both cradling and caging your face. Their fingers prick at your skin, leaves twisting into your hair as they move, and every wince or change of expression has them leaning close to examine you. They’re being as gentle as they know how, as gentle as they’ve observed other humans acting. The problem is that they’ve only ever seen humans being intimate, if their words are anything to go by, and they’re close enough to kiss. You can’t take a breath without tasting growing things on the air. “You’re not like them. Attached. Out of reach.”

The words startle a nearly-hysterical laugh out of you, which has Aspen straightening, great eyes blinking slowly in confusion. You notice with a start that their eyelashes remind you of minuscule ferns and you find yourself wondering what they’d feel like against your cheek. “Is that why you’re interested in me? Because I’m always here alone?”

There’s a shifting, leaves rustling and branches creaking as they let go of your face, and your heart starts up again, though you hope you haven’t offended them. Instead of moving away like you expect, Aspen’s hands pluck you up as they get to their feet. Air rushes past you. They’re ridiculously careful, hand underneath your thighs to support your weight, and one across your chest and curled around your arm, to keep you from falling. You’re still not entirely sure you can breathe correctly. You feel like your brain must be short circuiting - you’re still not screaming or shouting your head off, and part of your brain says this is fine - you’re only like six feet off of the ground. Maybe you hit your head crawling over that log earlier, and all of this is your imagination.

You have no idea where Aspen is taking you, but they’re heading straight for Makeout Point now, their footsteps so slow and measured that you can barely hear them walking. They don’t fill the silence with speech either, though you notice that one of their fingers is still shifting softly across your neck and the top of your shoulder. They must like the feeling of your skin- or maybe they like the warmth? 

They come to a halt in the clearing, gently uncurling their hold on your chest to point at the spot… At the spot you usually sit. You realize with a start that the tree you usually sit at the base of is gone, and you have to glance back at Aspen in surprise. 

“You care for this place, Lovely. It calls to me,” Aspen whispers and they tilt their head towards you, eyes falling closed as they press the smooth bark of their face to the side of yours. “I had to answer.” Their hand curls back around your torso and a blazing heat spirals through you. From embarrassment, and because- because you’re touched. It sounds and feels fairy tale, that kindness or care within you called to a being made of the forest and they- what? Want to show you care in return? 

You’re not sure if or how they would ever intend to do that, but their experience of humans- well. It lends a bit to the carnal. A thrill runs through you at the thought. 

You whisper your name, which interrupts the strange moment of cuddling, and they open their eyes. “That’s my name. I- I was telling you earlier that I think your choice of name was lovely.”

“You’re still Lovely, to me,” they decide, but you think- you think Aspen might be smiling. 

“I… I have another question,” you say, breath coming a little fast as you glance away from them, towards the fire pit in the middle of the clearing. “I’ve been coming here for- for years. Why are you showing yourself to me now?”

Their jaw can’t shift, can’t curl into an actual smile or frown, but for a moment you think they might be annoyed. “I have no desire to speak with others,” they tell you, and there it is. The annoyance. It passes quickly, especially when they focus their attention back upon you. “There are many of them, often, and- I am not human,” they confess, like you haven’t truly noticed. They sound almost… Apologetic about it. “There was a chance you would flee, like those that have only caught glimpses of me.”

That gets your attention and you glance up at Aspen’s face again. “The people running from the woods lately- they came across you?” 

They nod their head in agreement. 

That explains the rumors. It still makes you snort though, because large hairy animal or Bigfoot still doesn’t even come close to describing Aspen. Never mind the fact that they don’t have a hint of fur on their body. Moss, mushrooms and a drapery of lichen - you wonder if these people even got a good view of Aspen before they ran. Not that you truly blame them. Aspen is so large. 

"But this time," they say, continuing, "you asked for company. I would never have intruded," Aspen explains, nodding at the place they're typically rooted. "But if I can give you something-"

That warmth fills your chest near to bursting. Softness and embarrassment, all at once.

───── ❝ ❦ ❞ ─────

...turn the page?

[dwarrowdams]

Hawkes as Vines

I had fun making that OCs as Vines post a while back, so I decided to do one featuring Eden, Ezra, and Amaryllis (with occasional appearances by Eli [Ama’s son] and other folks).

Enjoy!

~~

Amaryllis: *meditating in a horse mask* Eli, running in front of her: My poop is coming!

Ezra: People are constantly asking me what it’s like to be as sexy...*falls down and smacks head*

Ezra, flexing in the mirror: Young Pharaoh, look at this god body! Ra-ka-ka! Amaryllis, opening the bathroom door: Oh my God.

**At the end of Act III:**

Ezra: Screw you! Anders: I hate you! Amaryllis: *beatboxing as they yell at each other*

Eden: *playing "Get Low” on the piano* Everyone else: Ah skeet skeet motherfucker, ah skeet skeet goddamn

Eden: What did you do?! Amaryllis: I shaved my eyebrows. Eden: Why?? Amaryllis: I...don’t know.

Eden: *playing Pachelbel’s canon on the piano* Ezra, singing: Go suck a dick, suck a dick, suck a motherfuckin’ dick Eden, singing: Suck a huge or small dick...

Amaryllis: After school...homework or a video game?  Every time, the answer is porn.

Eli, poking Eden: You got ex-ma? Eden, laughing: What?? Eli: You got ex-ma??  Ex-ma?

Amaryllis: Oooohh, my boy’s going to school!  Fuck it up, Eli, fuck it up! Eli: *posing dramatically*

Ezra, laying on the floor with bottles all over him: Drinks on me tonight! Amaryllis: *storms off* Eden: What’s wrong? Amaryllis, knocking Solo cups off of her shoulders: Drinks were supposed to be on ME tonight!

Eden, narrating: How Ezra gets ready. Ezra: *carefully styles hair, trims facial hair, applies foundation, fills in brows, adds a touch of eyeliner and probably chapstick* Ready! Eden, narrating: How Ama gets ready. Amaryllis: *wakes up, throws on a hat* Ready!

Ezra: Hey, have you seen my razor? Amaryllis: Yeah, it’s right here. *holds up Motorola Razr*

Someone: Your bra strap is showing! Amaryllis: *gasps* Really?! Cut to Amaryllis giving the middle finger and dancing to “I Don’t Fuck With You” while wearing several bras

Eden: *singing “Smooth Criminal” dramatically* Amaryllis: *dancing in the background while banging a pot with a wrench*

Amaryllis: The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.  And weasels.  Those little bastards will get you.

**When Eden’s not home:**

Ezra: *plays trombone* Amaryllis: *slams oven*

Eden: *stirring mac and cheese* Amaryllis: That’s what good pussy sounds like.

Eden, dancing around with a rubber chicken: Accept yourself!  Love yourself!

Amaryllis: Whole Foods?!  What am I, a millionaire?  You want a whole food?!  Eat ass, bitch!

Eden: Do you believe in Bigfoot?  I believe we’re all Bigfoot when it comes to our carbon footprint.

Fenris: Can you get one of those for me? Eden: *hands item to him; their hands touch* Eden and Ezra: *dancing and singing to Cascada’s “Everytime We Touch”*

Ezra: Ooohh, she’s drunk as fuck. Amaryllis, fully clothed in the bathtub: I’m washing me and my clothes, bitch!  I’m washing me and my clothes.

Ezra: Are you okay? Eden: What is...okay? Ezra: Uh...maybe a little rest? Eden: My resting heart rate registers as a panic attack.

*shot of condoms* Amaryllis: Welp, those don’t work! *shot of Eli* Amaryllis: Yaaayyyyy!

Amaryllis: *twerking on a desk as the Hannah Montana theme plays*

Eden, teaching a yoga class: Release all of the sounds that are trapped in your mind. Amaryllis: *unholy screeching* Eden: Ama, are you okay?? Amaryllis: I’m a little messed up.

Amaryllis: I don’t understand why when someone has a baby, their first question is “oh my god, what does it look like???”  The thing just came out!  It looks like a damn potato!

[seventeen-teen-teen-trash]

Ash requested a yukhei fluff

She gets a Yukhei crack instead

—

It was 3:30am when Yukhei crashed into my room as silently as he could. Which, with his long ass limbs, was impressive.

“Dude(!) Cmon, we gotta be quick(!)”

You might be wondering why I wrote (!). Well, Yukhei managed to yell as quietly as he possibly could, but the sound still sounded like thunder in the middle of the night. He dragged me out of bed as quickly as he could, throwing my jacket and shoes at me, and started to climb out of the window before I told him, still half asleep, that if he thought I was sneaking out through the window he was certifiably insane and I would kill him in his sleep.

After i told him that, he promptly brought his leg back into my room and closed the window, patting gently while smiling at me like “Look I did a good!”. It was very adorable, and if i wasn't ready to kill him, I might have awed.

Instead, I dragged my half asleep ass over to him and slapped his chest once, as if that was enough payback for waking me up. He laughed and winced, rubbing his chest slightly while leading me out of the room, taking me to the front door of our shared apartment. Which, I must add, was completely empty apart from us, so why he felt the need to sneak out, I will never know.

We left the apartment with Yukhei still trying to be sneaky, sticking to the walls as much as he could. To the guard watching the security cameras, we must’ve looked like some pair- A 6 foot tall man-child trying to hide from the cameras and me, still in my pjs with a hoodie pulled over, glaring at the man-child with hate. Truly a loving couple.

Finally, we reached the elevator, and while we waited for it, Yukhei started shoving me with his hip. By this point, I was fully awake and still filled with hate but as his hip hit my elbow, I couldn’t help but laugh at him. When I looked at him from the corner of my eye, his smile was wide and infectious, and I couldn't help but laugh at him.

The elevator ride down was uneventful, and it was just as we were getting off that I finally remembered to ask him why the hell he woke me up at 3am.

“OH! I ran out of noodles and I didn’t wanna go without you incase you wanted something and were annoyed at me for going without you and I really wanted noodles :).”

Once again, you may be wondering why I wrote down the :). Somehow, Yukhei managed to be that kind of person who could make a :) sound in real life, but if you tried to explain it, you would get nowhere. Before the :), I was ready to kick Yukhei for dragging me out of bed just for noodles but the :)... the :) got to me.

So, I followed the tall idiot to the car, where he sat patiently in the passenger side waiting for me to start the car. While he was holding the keys. While he was holding the car keys, he pulled a different set of keys out of his pocket that were made for a toddler, and then tried to hand me the toddler keys before realising the fuck up, and handed me the real keys.

I watched and judged as he slowly pocketed the toddler keys, tucking them deep into his pocket. I kept staring at him until he turned to look at me like nothing ever happened. Slowly, i turned back to the front and put the car into drive, accidentally ramming the car in front gently. Yukhei turned to stare at me with shock, pulling out the toddler keys again.

“Maybe I should drive from now on?” He whispered before bursting into laughter, clapping his giant alien hands together. I laughed along with him, slowly reversing out of the spot we were parked, making sure to not hit any more cars on the way out.

When we finally arrived at the convenience store, Yukhei ran out as soon as the car stopped, eager to get the noodles. I followed slowly, making sure to check the front of the car for any damage. I had a feeling the other car was less okay judging by the paint marks all over the front. I made a mental note to leave an apology note on the other car, but the note was quickly forgotten as soon as I walked into the store and saw Yukhei running down the cereal aisle.

“Look!! They have coco puffs!! Man I’m coco for coco puffs!!” He whispered gently to himself before running away with Reeses Puffs instead. I reluctantly followed him as he ran, apologising to the cashier as I passed. It took Yukhei about 3 minutes to find the noodle aisle, and oh boy was he in heaven. The amazement on his face was hilarious, I have never seen a boy look so happy to see noodles.

After searching through all the noodles, he managed to find the brand he wanted and ran over proudly, staring at the noodles lovingly. In our 3 years of dating (at that point in time) I had never seen him smile at me like that. As you can imagine, I was a bit ticked off.

However, once Yukhei took me to the candy aisle and said he was paying… oh boy, he grew to regret that. I ran down, grabbing one of every kind I liked, making sure to grab a few more chocolate bars and packs of gum. After all, he uses most of my gum, why shouldn't he pay for it?

Once I finished my raid on the aisle, I looked back up at Yukhei to see him staring with a look of disbelief and regret, looking between his few things and my many MANY things. He looked back up at me with a sigh and slowly nodded his head, accepting his fate. He waddled his way to the register, going to pull out his wallet but pulling out the toddler keys again, and then pulling out a pair of spongebob learning chopsticks.

The cashier was staring at us with dead eyes, obviously wanting to go home but when Yukehi, a giant ass man, pulled out a collection of toddler sized things, her eyes lit up again. Eventually, Yukhei found his spiderman wallet and pulled it out, the cashier lost it. Her laugh was uncontrollable and wild, and both of us couldn't help but join.

Slowly, we all recovered and the cashier wiped away tears, clutching her stomach in both pain and to try and recover. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced something like that but I can safely say it was one of the best parts of that night. Eventually, we had everything cashed up, and the cashier kept smiling as Yukhei hip bumped me time and time again, trying to push me off balance.

Eventually, I gave up trying to be discrete in hitting him and full on punched his arm, turning back to face the cashier with a smile. She let out a chuckle as Yukhei started collapsing, clutching his arm and claiming that he sees the light. Eventually, the cashier finished ringing up the stuff and Yukhei pulled out the spiderman wallet again, opening it up and almost handing her monopoly money before going to the right section in his wallet, handing her a few notes. Thankfully the cashier didn't notice the monopoly money, the spiderman wallet itself was distracting her.

After we left, and started driving home, Yukhei pulled out his phone and looked something up on Twitter, waiting until we had parked again to show me.

“Oh my god look!!” He zoomed in on the photo, covering the bottom half to show a large hand resting on a thigh, and did the same to my thigh, smiling gently.

Then he grabbed something from the bag and put on his thigh, revealing the bottom half of the photo showing a chicken fuckin foot on a thigh, and I lost it. To anyone outside the car it would’ve looked like I was choking on air, I couldn’t breath anymore, it was a hot mess.

Yukhei had grabbed a damn chicken foot from the bag and placed it on his leg, posing gently to show off the full look he had going on. It took me about 6 minutes to stop laughing at him, and even then he had to put the chicken foot away for me to even be able to look at him.

After I recovered from the chicken foot, we got out the car and walked back to the car we crashed into earlier. By this point, an hour had passed and the car park had lightened up slightly, and we could see the damage done to the other car. It lost some paint and was ever so slightly banged up. Yukhei had a genius idea, and grabbed the note we wrote earlier and tucked it into the bumper, adding the chicken foot next to it (wrapped up of course, we aren’t monsters) in apology.

We laughed our way back up in the elevator, Yukhei pretending the chicken feet were his hands, pressing the buttons with the claws and scratching his chin with them. Of course, he went back into sneak mode when we got out the elevator, even going so far as to roll across the floor, trying to hold the bags while he did so but failing oh so much. Eventually I stormed over to grab the bags, and let him roll along as much as he wanted.

Soon enough, we reached our apartment and when we arrived, Yukhei walked in and flopped onto the couch, too tired to make the noodles by this point. I managed to drag him off the couch and back to the bed, shoving him on it and taking off his shoes for him. I collapsed on the bed next to him, too tired to take off my own shoes. Luckily, mr Bigfoot had a solution, and just randomly reached around with his feet until he could kick off my shoes for me, doing it all lying down next to me. It made me laugh the entire time, his faces while doing so were so silly and dumb. Eventually he got them both off, and he just lay laughing next to me for a while. Slowly but surely, we calmed down and just stayed in silence, smiling at each other.

“I really love you Yknow? Not many people would willingly follow their boyfriend randomly at 3am, and they wouldn’t be as happy about it as you were.” He looked almost sheepish, looking away from my face and looking slightly disappointed in himself. I grabbed his hand and held it right, making him look at me.

“Not many boyfriends would wake their girlfriend at 3am because they wanted noodles. Not many boyfriends would have a pair of spongebob training chopstick or a kids pair of keys. Not many people would have either of those to be honest. I was happy about it because it was you, because you made it something to be happy about.”

He smiled at me, moving forward to place a kiss on my forehead.

“Thank you for this life.” He smiled at me again, then slowly dragged me up the bed so my head was on the pillow. He then proceeded to wiggle up the bed so his head was on the other pillow, and he managed to drag the covers up over us both, tucking me in gently. While I was woken up at 3am, I had one of the best nights of my life that day.

EL FIN

[razzstrid]

why do our brains love celebrity conspiracy theories?

El Hunt’s article was successful in addressing some of the main catalysts of conspiracy theories, social media being a big one, and which demographic is more susceptible in believing the falsified news. Although Hunt addressed some of the factors behind the psychology of conspiracy theories by interviewing various psychologists, I felt as through she could have gone deeper (I will address this after discussing my personal experience with the first conspiracy theory I fell victim to). 

Before reading the article I was already acquainted with the more trivial, celebrity based conspiracy theories such as the Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson romance, Lorde’s affair with her producer, and Beyonce’s fake pregnancy. Beyond the celebrity based conspiracy theories, I have also been exposed to a good amount of the more sinister conspiracy theories: 9/11 being an inside job, QAnon, Pizzagate, pigeons being government issued drones, the moon being fake, and my personal favorite -- the multifaceted DIA (Denver International Airport) conspiracy theory. 

I was just moving to Colorado at the mega-vulnerable age of 10 when I came across the DIA conspiracy YouTube series (Part 1, Part 2). It was no wonder I came across this video series -- when I was in elementary school you could find me in the library during lunch reading the Graphic Mysteries collection of children’s books: Bigfoot and Other Strange Beasts, Atlantis and Other Lost Cities, Ghosts and Poltergeists, The Bermuda Triangle, The Loch Ness Monster, and UFOs Alien Abduction and Close Encounters (see below). Think about that... there are legitimate children’s book built on conspiracy theories. This vulnerability to become consumed in nonsensical information that goes beyond our commonsense is developed and internalized at a very young age.  

I mean think about this! The quickest and easiest route in spreading misinformation is exposing people to it at a young age. Kids f*cking believe anything -- they don’t know any better, they have no references to compare the information to, and regardless of the fact whether or not they have any references -- they don’t know to search for references. Take foreign languages for example; babies and children have a cognitive advantage because they are forming neural connections at a rapid pace -- the brain’s elasticity and rapid neural formation allow babies and young children to not only learn foreign languages at a faster rate but also retain these skills throughout their life. There is a profound connection here with how children internalize and retain information. 

Continuing my conspiracy theory children’s book rant, I’d like to bring up the example of Der Giftpilz (or the poisonous mushroom/toadstood).  This German children’s book was written in 1983 to promote antisemitism; the title alludes to how, just as it is difficult to tell a poisonous mushroom from an edible mushroom, it is difficult to tell a Jew apart from a Gentile. The book wants to "warn" German children about the dangers allegedly posed by Jews to them personally, and to German society in general (Wikipedia). In some instances, it is implied that Jews will try to molest children; one little girl escapes a Jew offering her sweets only when her brother calls the police, and when Inge's mother sends her to a Jewish doctor, despite Inge's protests of what she learned in the League of German Girls, Inge barely escapes. Jews are portrayed as abusing their German servants. In addition, the book warns of Jews in various occupations – Jewish businessmen, lawyers, tradesmen, and kosher butchers, who, in one chapter, are described torturing an animal to death. The same chapter also accuses the Jews of kidnapping Christian children to use their blood in matzohs (a common variant of the blood libel). One of the final chapters blames the Jews for the death of Jesus, who is called the greatest enemy of the Jews of all time (Wikipedia). 

Although this book is regarded as propaganda, I feel it is thoroughly based in conspiracy theories. All of the events that take place in the book are rooted in prejudice against Jews; the authors use falsified, hyperbolic, and bizarre stories to brainwash children and implant fear and hatred towards Jews at a young age. I am Jewish and despite how offensive this is, it’s pretty funny ... Jews as poisonous mushrooms ... LOL come on! Yes, this is some antisemitic-ass bullshit, but also incredibly well executed for some old, bored bastards. This is like the OG QAnon and Pizzagate. Yes it’s horrible, yes I shouldn’t laugh but sue me, humor derives pain.