#ghostblogging (q)
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[ EXPOSE ] for receiver to discover sender covered in blood.
BLOOD RELATED PROMPTS
Randy could barely think straight - and he certainly couldn’t walk straight. He stumbled across the familiar farmhouse in an attempt to find someone, an eeriness sitting within the stillness of the property. Just five minutes ago, they place had been full to the brim with people; bursting with noise. Well, at least it felt like five minutes ago to the horror buff - but time was a bit of an enigma to him at the moment. He was able to find someone outside, but considering it was the very much dead cameraman of Gale Weathers, that wasn’t a whole lot of help to him. It did let him know the killer was around, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information. With his luck he’d end up running right into the figure’s arms.
Still, he couldn’t just sit on the ground and accept defeat. He decided to loop around back, hoping to see Dewey or Sidney or somebody along the way. He jogged as quick as he possibly could, but immediately stopped upon seeing Tatum’s mangled body hanging from the garage door. He tried (and to his surprise, successfully) to hold down his vomit at the sigh. He was only used to simulated gore; qnd even then, the most realistic effects could never compare to seeing one of your best friend’s heads crushed like a grape. He was paralyzed in fear - that, mixed with his already delayed reflexes, were why he didn’t hear the sound of the door leading into the garage clicking shut.
He looked to the source of the noise as quickly as his intoxicated state would allow and he saw Stu. He was bloody, possibly bruised, possibly hurt. His eyes widened, his mouth hung open and his first thought was to run over to where his friend stood. But he took a step towards him and quickly froze up once more. Stu never gave him any reason not to trust him before - sure, his head was pretty far up Billy’s ass recently, but he couldn’t really be a killer… …. .. could he?
He took a step back, and then another. He didn’t run, not for a number of reasons. First and foremost, he knew if he did that he wasn’t getting that far at all. Second, he didn’t know where anyone was. Even if he did manage to make it more than a few steps, no way would he be able to last all the way until he reached the nearest neighbor. And third, and kind of the most important point, he really didn’t know if he was staring at a killer or a guy who was at the wrong place at the wrong time…
@mctives
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@kiingdomforakiss
Bothering the beast
#rafael d'amico — ✧ aesthetic ✧#❦ — oliver campbell baur & brandon davis (glimpse0fus)#ghostblogging (q)
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❰❰ ARGUE ❱❱ sender ends an argument with receiver with a kiss
An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme
It was one part of their relationship Randy couldn’t say he missed those decades his friend had been locked up. The pair could bicker like no other - Stu knew the easiest path to get under his skin and have him itching. He knew exactly what to say, knew just about every button to push in order to get him worked up - sometimes in a good way, but more commonly he used those powers just to piss him off. And that night, he discovered that hasn’t really changed. He was in the middle of a rant, no surprise there. Anyone who’s gotten Randy to this level knew it was hard to shut him up once he was there ( * harder than usual, that is ) . Stu had to have known this, which was why he went with a less conventional, yet more effective technique of doing so.
The kiss cut him off mid-sentence, even cut his thoughts off for a few short moments out of shock. It wasn’t the first time he’d been kissed by the taller —; it was, however, the first time in about twenty years. So while the pair of lips held some familiarity, quite a bit actually, there was something present he never noticed back when they were teens. Stu’s distraction proved to be successful; after only a few moments of confusion, Randy finally gave a proper reaction. His eyes fell shut while a hand rose to the other’s chest. His palm rested flat against the surface, lightly grabbing at the material of his shirt as the kiss continued.
When they finally pulled back, the look on his face was calmed - but only for a few seconds. “That’s not gonna work on me every time.” He warned, poking Stu’s chest to ensure he had Stu’s attention.
@mctives
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so who's gonna take one for the team and give me this?
#☼☽ out of it — ooc.#really the faces not so much the plot#but i'm not against it either it could be fun#ghostblogging (q)
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“Where did you get that bruise?” / joey
A look of annoyance fell over the actor’s features. Not at Stefan for asking the question, but towards the bruise’s origin. He let out a sigh before telling his tale. “Me and Chandler were washing the duck, but he was in a bit of a mood — - the duck, not Chandler. He hopped out of the bathtub and believe it or not, a sudsy duck can be pretty slippery.”
He couldn’t help but pull a faint grin as he recalled the events, even if it left him a bit sore. “Really anything is slippery when there’s soap involved, so I ended up headbutting the edge of the counter.” He explained as if this were just another day for him (because really, it was). “But, the duck is clean, everyone’s clean, so it wasn’t for nothing.”
Then his expression shifted, from triumphant to pleading as he made his next request. “Hey, can you grab me a beer? Maybe two if you don’t have something I could use as an ice pack?”
@salvatoraes
#joey tribbiani ✆ meme#❦ — joey tribbiani & stefan salvatore (salvatoraes)#salvatoraes#ghostblogging (q)
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“Would it help if I stayed?” / chandler to joey
Nightmares & Sleeping Meme
Group trips were always the best! It wasn’t easy syncing up six different schedules, so it wasn’t often they got away as a group (that wasn’t a case of emergency. And Joey loved every part of it. He loved the traveling, he loved the going out; whether it be to make a fool of himself at the club or to terrorize the streets being the most annoying tourist the city they visited ever saw. But there was always a period towards the end of the trip where his mood took a bit of a dip. It was a feeling he could never quite shake, no matter how big or how old he got. And that was the feeling of homesickness.
He was out on balcony connected to his hotel room. He was lost in thought as, staring blankly the little remnants of life still flickering across the sleepy town they were staying in. - The fact that this place couldn’t look any more different from the busy city he was used to certainly didn’t help the knot in his stomach. He barely noticed when the owner of the neighboring room stepped onto his own balcony, he only did when he heard the flicker of a lighter break the silence he sat in.
He blinked a few times before his eyes focused on his roommate. A look of shook, a tad overreacted as he usually did, fell across his features at the sight. “I’d jump over there and swat that thing out of your hand if I didn’t think I’d fall with it.” The conversation that followed was light, playful, typical for the pair. Chandler eventually put the cigarette out and joined him in his room. That was when he got into what was really on his mind. He wasn’t going to say anything at first, not wanting to sour the mood of the trip for anyone else. But he was never the type to keep a secret, and that was especially true when it came to Chandler.
A bit ironic, considering how great the other was at opening up. But while he did have his moments where he did still act quite Chandler-ish, they’ve always had a close bond that usually overpowered the icks he had around that sort of thing. The solution he offered may have surprised anyone else, but Joey shouldn’t have expected any less from his roommate. The two had each other’s backs far beyond the point of rational - though, Chandler was never afraid to call him out on his dumber ideas. But that night he seemed to take pity on Joey. Pity that he’d gladly accept.
“I think it’d help a lot,” he admitted. He smiled, perhaps the widest it’s been that night. But then a look of playful defeat fell across tan features. “This means I’m gonna have to sleep in my underwear, doesn’t it?”
@cairoes
#joey tribbiani ✆ meme#❦ — joey tribbiani & chandler bing (cairoes)#cairoes#ghostblogging (q)#ik it says nightmares and sleeping but I focused a lot more on the & sleeping part idk it felt right
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[ SOOTHE ]: the sender places their hands on the receiver's shoulders and begins to give them a massage. (Mathias and Andrew; @mxrvelouscreations
THE SHOULDER TOUCH. ( A PROMPT LIST! )
It had been a long day for Drew. Not a dangerous day, thankfully, but he would’ve appreciated at least a little excitement over the work he was practically buried in. It was tedious, it was overwhelming, and realizing the main reason he was getting these sort of tasks was because his uncle was getting older and older did leave him with a bit of a morbid feeling.
He was currently looking over some paperwork —; someone needed to tend to the practical side of their ‘businesses’, yet another job plopped into his lap. He heard Mathias walked in and even muttered a quiet greeting, but he was stuck trying to read to fine print of this last document.
The affection offered came as a surprise to the older. Did it cause him to lose his place on the document? Yes, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. In fact, with a low sigh he gently shoved the stack of papers away from his seat at the table. The world wouldn’t end if he took a small break. He sat back in his seat, grey eyes searching to find the other pair as his head lulled back slightly.
“Alright, you’ve got my attention.”
@mxrvelouscreations
#andrew corrigan ✆ meme#❦ — andrew corrigan & mathias quinn (mxrvelouscreations)#mxrvelouscreations#ghostblogging (q)
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you're bleeding, you can't keep hiding this stuff (eros/mickey altieri)
Mickey’s eyes narrowed a slight bit at the mention of blood. He patted around his body with a curse under his breath, and eventually he found the telling injury n his left cheek. He wiped at it with the back of his hand, before offering his best attempt at an apologetic look. He wasn’t sorry he did it, nor was he pretending to be. He was more sorry he’s been caught, and he meant that sincerely.
“It’s not exactly the best conversation piece,” Mickey remarked. But after a deep breath, he was able to take the conversation a bit more seriously. “Besides; the less you know, the better. You hear about it with everyone else, and no one suspects a thing.” He wasn’t worried about himself — - he’s ducked the cops once before, he was confident he could do it again. But he didn’t want Eros to go down just for his association with the killer.
@eroslike
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There was a long pause as he tried to let things settle. His eyes were closed and he attempted to not focus too much on the fact that the other male was not sleeping.
"You suck at sleeping." Derek murmured without opening his eyes, thumb stroking through the other male's hair idly. It was more of an observation than an accusation. Derek was only a bad sleeper when he stressed about something. Which, given Derek's life, wasn't a rarity. But normally he could manage to get the necessary hours to function. Something told him that the same was likely to be untrue with the scientist. Maybe that was just the fact that Ike had realized he was sharing a bed with a predator that could turn on him if it so chose.
The hand on his head did catch him off guard - surely anybody would be a bit jumpy after hearing what he heard (and it didn’t help he was a naturally jumpy guy). But he quickly relaxed against the touch as he was brought in closer, leaning against his friend...? Obviously there was not danger there. And if it was, he was safe from it.
Still, the verbal somewhat-confirmation was nice to hear. “Alright. I’ll try to keep ‘em out of your way,” he answered back. He offered a smile Derek’s way and settled into his spot. He wasn’t too tired himself, but he was more than content laying there until he was.
@mccallofthewild
#isaac ferro ✏ thread#isaac ferro ✏ derek hale (mccallofthewild)#mccallofthewild#ghostblogging (q)#inxspacetime
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☆ ° • [ 𝐏𝐄𝐓 ] my muse lays your head in their lap and pets your muse’s hair (Allen and Joseph; @mxrvelouscreations
𝐍𝐨𝐧-𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋆ 𝐑𝐏 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬
Allen had been stretching himself thin that week. Work was piling up at the shop, (what was left of) his pack was still slowly putting itself back together - and he was a big part of it. In every corner of his life, someone needed him. And he wasn’t complaining, it was nice to be needed. But it could get a little tiring. They were watching something on the television. Joseph was, at least. Allen was dozing off next to him. The first few times he was able to catch himself before falling out, but this time he only came to when he felt a hand at the back of his head. He perked up a small bit at the touch, but was quickly lulled back into a sleepy state once more as he was urged to lay down. His head landed against Joseph’s lap, his eyes partially opening a small bit in order to confirm that it was indeed the other man holding him. He felt a hand rubbing at his scalp, and that was all it took for him to comfortably fall back to his slumber.
@mxrvelouscreations
#allen reed ✆ meme#❦ — allen reed & joseph larson (mxrvelouscreations)#mxrvelouscreations#ghostblogging (q)
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❰❰ LEAN ❱❱ - for jason!
An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme
It wasn’t common to see the killer in one place for more than a handful of minutes. If he wasn’t following after Ryder, he was tending to his cabin, or just exploring the rest of the forest. He was a busy man, and when he wasn’t busying himself there was the occasional trespasser. So when the younger did come around to visit, as long as there weren’t any intruders, he took any and every chance he could to relax. Be calm -; be his best interpretation of normal.
Arts and crafts had always been an activity he preferred. He was never able to actually use a knife when he was younger, something that’s obviously changed since, but recently he’s gotten into carving. The shapes were minimal,- and even then, it was clear he was still a bit of a beginner. But it was something he enjoyed, something that made him happy and even proud of himself that for once didn’t involve dismemberment of any kind.
He currently sat in front of the fireplace. The fire had gone out in the middle of the night, and Ryder wasn’t quite able to leave the bed without it. Jason was long used to the cold, but he was still happy to oblige. As he waited for the rest of the cabin to warm out, he took out a pocket knife he grabbed off of one of his more recent victims and got to work on his latest ‘piece’: a cat head that was starting to resemble to stray that wandered onto the campgrounds from time to time.
He was a bit too focused to notice Ryder shuffle in at first, one of the larger blankets swallowing his frame. But his ears were trained to hear even the slightest of rustling, so it wasn’t long before he was turning his head to watch the other join him. Jason offered him a smile as he sat on the floor next to him and got comfortable, resting his weight against the larger frame while he attempted to warm up some more.
He ducked his head down, lips brushing lightly against golden locks before he looked back to the fire. “Gotta get more wood,” he warned. He nodded his head towards the near-empty stack before he went back to his carving - currently attempting to perfect the shape of the cat’s ears.
@contradictivs
#jason vorhees ✆ meme#❦ — jason vorhees & ryder dunbar (constradictivs)#contradictivs#ghostblogging (q)
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@lcbcshcart
Pete was one with the water. His board glided across the deep blue like a shark prowling around its home. He’s a natural, he’s been doing this since he was young and it shows. The current wave he rode was big, a bit ambitious, but nothing a skilled surfer couldn’t clear with some concentration. But that was something Peter wasn’t usually oozing with. And of course, since Isaac was watching him, he would end up totally wiping out.
He was eventually spat out onto the beach’s shore, his surfboard following close behind. He got up as quick as he possibly could, thankfully before the current could try to pull him in. He then trudged over to Isaac, who wasn’t too far. “So it’s kinda like that, except you’re not supposed to eat shit at the end.” He explained, followed up with a breathy chuckle. The waves knocked the air out of him a bit,- thankfully there was another lifeguard on duty that day.
“If you want to give it a try, we could go by the shack and get ya’a board.” He was always down to give a free lesson, especially to Isaac, but he was still a little wiped out from… wiping out. “Or we could wait till the waves die down a little."
#☾ closed.#peter russo ✏ thread#peter russo ✏ isaac reinhart (lcbcshcart)#lcbcshcart#ghostblogging (q)
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[ AID ] for sender to help receiver clean blood off themselves. - for jason <3
BLOOD-RELATED PROMPTS
Almost every year, they came back. A group of giddy young adults looking to ‘give the place a new life’, to try and shake the camp of what they called a negative past in hopes of making some money off of the property. Jason didn’t quite understand all of that, but what he did know was that people were on the campsite. And mother, she wanted them dead. So of course, as he always did, he followed through with the request. One by one by one by one by one. Until there was only one left. And he nearly got away too. The sound of yet another set of tires hitting the dirt road that led to the camp caught him off guard, almost enough for the counselor to leave his grip. Almost.
Jason made it quick - a large hand SLAMMED into the guy’s face, pushing him back into a nearby tree stump. A loud crunch could be heard almost in sync with the sound of a car door being shut. He then noticed the headlights almost directly aimed at him, his body shimmering from the crimson liquid that covered him from mask to toe (and now all over his hand). He stood tall, ready to flip the car and whoever got out of it before he was able to recognize the figure approaching him. When he finally came into view, he could feel some of that rage start to melt away. His job was done, mother was pleased, and now, he could take the rest of the night to himself (and of course, Ryder).
So, as the blond requested, the first thing they did was wash the killer down. The plumbing worked in the main cabin, which Ryder made sure to take advantage of. He stuffed Jason into the largest tub he could find and got to scrubbing. For the time being, the slasher had been a bit out of it. It was a cloudy state he was familiar with, especially after hunting. Usually, he was knocked out and didn’t have to feel it. But when he wasn’t, it was almost as if he were in a trance. He stared at his mask, deep red smeared across the material - the same substance that soaked the discarded outfit it sat on top of. He only broke his ‘eye contact’ with it when Ryder went to wipe his face, rubbing at the speckles of blood that managed to splash him through the mask’s holes.
He blinked a few times as if that helped him shake it off a bit more. He wasn’t quite back to his regular self, but he was able to flash his visitor a smile.
@contradictivs
#jason vorhees ✆ meme#❦ — jason vorhees & ryder dunbar (contradictivs)#contradictivs#ghostblogging (q)
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[ BROKE ] for sender to punch receiver hard enough their nose bleeds. - for johnny <3
BLOOD-RELATED PROMPTS
Johnny liked a challenge. Well, he liked a relatively easy challenge. He was never the sharpest tool in the shed, usually he was just the guy wielding it. But killing, hunting, stalking, that all was stuff he could say with confidence he knew. But even then, life never goes completely how you expect. Things could happen, mistakes could be made, people get too comfortable and eventually get lazy. That’s the only explanation he had as to how it was even possible someone managed to escape.
But Ryder didn’t get very far. The property was in the middle of nowhere, and while he did get a pretty good head start, it didn’t help him much. Johnny was a bloodhound - he wasn’t quite sure who to thank for that specific talent, but even the slightest trace could drag him directly to the source if he focused hard enough. Of course, Ryder’s rather noisy attempts to cut through the field of sunflowers also helped him a great deal.
He didn’t waste any time to pounce. ‘Waiting’ is how Ryder managed to get out in the first place. But the blond was stronger than he looked. What he thought would be an easy takedown turned into a wrestling match amongst the flowers. It took some effort, but he was able to eventually pin Ryder down. He traced a bloody blade across his victim’s chest, poking at where his skin peeked from the tears in his shirt.
Honestly, he got a bit distracted, - maybe even mesmerized in what he was doing. He was just about to draw blood when BAM! Ryder managed to free one of his hands from the killer’s grasp, landing a fist straight into his nose. “Augh!” A gloved hand reached up to cup his now leaking nose. Ryder was able to push him completely off in that time, and while it still HURT, he wasn’t taking any more chances.
He grabbed the other by the collar, but the already-tattered shirt just completely ripped off of him as he fled. Johnny laughed. “Oh! NOW we’re having some fun!” He commented, licking his blood-stained lips before letting out a whistle. “You’re a feisty one. I might have to keep you.”
@contradictivs
#johnny slaughter ✆ meme#❦ — johnny slaughter & ryder dunbar (contradictivs)#contradictivs#violence tw#blood tw#ghostblogging (q)
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Height comparison Derek(6') and Ike
Send your character’s height and I’ll compare it to mine.
Ike (5 feet, 51/2 inches) vs Derek (6 feet, 0 inches)
@mccallofthewild
#isaac ferro ✆ meme#❦ — isaac ferro & derek hale (mccallofthewild)#mccallofthewild#ghostblogging (q)
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“..Well, I don’t have any hard proof.” It was hard to explain, and Tommy knew if he got into it he’d likely end up being the one put behind bars. But for years, he’s studied the man like an endangered animal; looking through his history in an attempt to figure out the force he believed continued to drive the man to kill. To some, it was just a horror story, but while it did get a little altered from time to time, Tommy knew better than most that the story was a very real one. And he wanted to do what he could to prevent it from continuing.
His face fell a bit at the mention of the local authorities. “They think I’m a joke.” He admitted with a sigh, hoping the other didn’t think. “You’re right, technically anyone could have done it. But as someone who’s seen his work up close, I have a very strong feeling this is him. I don’t mean to waste your time, and I wouldn’t have gone here if I didn’t think this was the real deal. But this could be the difference between one stand-alone murder and putting half the town through another bloodbath.”
@spookyagentfmulder
Agent Mulder had heard of the Haddonsfield incident, and while it really didn't fall on the supernatural sliding scale for him there had been whispers of it as a ghost story - being passed from kid to kid on Halloween. He had been seven at the time, and hearing the name Michael Myers instilled a child-like fear response in the back of his brain. The Boogieman was still out there.
"How do you know it was him?" There could be a number of reasons: an actual sighting, a similar kill type (even though to his recollection there were only small similarities between his victims), or perhaps even a calling card. Michael Myers didn't really seem the type for the later two, but truth be told he hadn't spent much time profiling Myers, for obvious reasons.
"Anyone could have killed that person. Have you spoken to local authorities?"
@inxspacetime
#tommy doyle ✏ thread#tommy doyle ✏ fox mulder (spookyagentfmulder)#spookyagentfmulder#ghostblogging (q)
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