#emf testing

[emfsolutions]

The Growing Concern Over EMF Pollution Protection in Melbourne

With our increasing reliance on electronic devices, EMF (electromagnetic field) pollution is a growing issue in many cities, including Melbourne. EMFs come from multiple sources like mobile phones, WiFi, Bluetooth, power lines, and even home appliances. Prolonged exposure to EMF radiation has been linked to increased health risks by several studies. As a result, more Melburnians are looking for solutions to reduce EMF exposure - a trend known as EMF pollution protection.

What are the Health Risks of EMF Pollution?

Excessive EMF exposure has been associated with increased chances of cancer, insomnia, headaches, and nausea. The World Health Organization has classified high electromagnetic frequency radiation as a possible carcinogen. Other studies have found EMFs may disrupt cell metabolism and increase free radicals in the body. The long-term effects of constant EMF exposure are still being investigated. However, we know that children and pregnant women are more vulnerable.

Where is EMF Pollution Most Prevalent in Melbourne?

Most EMF radiation comes from our electronic devices at home which means indoor areas near electronics see higher EMF levels. WiFi routers, smartphones, baby monitors, Bluetooth devices, and laptops are common culprits. High EMF areas include bedrooms (with devices kept close to beds), office spaces with multiple tech devices, and living rooms. Outdoor EMF sources include mobile towers, overhead power lines, and smart meters.

Tips to Reduce EMF Exposure at Home

Luckily, there are several easy changes you can make at home to protect yourself from EMF pollution:

Keep your distance - Maintain at least one meter distance from devices when in use. Avoid sleeping with phones and gadgets near your bed.

Rely on wired connections - Use cabled ethernet connections for internet instead of WiFi when possible.

Limit device usage - Reduce use of smartphones, tablets and other electronics to minimize overall exposure.

Advanced EMF Pollution Protection Solutions

For more heavy-duty EMF pollution protection Melbourne residents can turn to EMF shielding and harmonizing technologies like:

EMF Solution - They offer high quality EMF protection products like shielding paints, window films, EMF reducing canopies, and more. Experts assess your home and customize solutions.

Smart meter covers - Special covers block excess EMFs from smart meters.

EMF shielding fabrics - Use in curtains, canopy beds, and drapes to reduce EMF penetration.

The growing research on EMF pollution should make us more conscious of the invisible electronic smog in modern homes. With smart solutions such as those offered by EMF pollution protection Melbourne experts, you can reduce exposure and make your home a safe sanctuary.

[duokatz]

I cant believe that its finally me and you and you and Me... an. Your friend Steve.

O I I A E O I I I A E ahh EMF

[tiercel]

Rolling around a concept in my head of egg adopts that are half artistic liberty half buyer input and the result is a surprise to both me and you

[claudio82clod]

145 - ATTENZIONE ai Campi ElettroMagnetici in CASA - EMF TESTER ER02

[emfanalysis]

Experienced Emf Testing Consultants

EMF Analysis boasts a team of experienced EMF testing consultants who are experts in assessing EMF levels in various settings. Whether you're concerned about your home, office, or any other space, our consultants provide thorough testing and analysis. We help identify high-EMF areas and offer practical advice on how to reduce exposure. With our professional guidance, you can take the necessary steps to create a safer, low-EMF environment.

[webcrawler3000]

Gamma ray radiation, a form of electromagnetic radiation, has various applications in different industries. While it is commonly associated with medical and industrial uses, there has been recent interest in exploring how it can be utilized in detecting counterfeit currency and ensuring the integrity of financial systems.

Gamma rays have unique properties that make them well-suited for such applications. They have high penetration power, allowing them to easily pass through materials, including paper. This characteristic makes gamma rays capable of scanning and inspecting the authenticity of banknotes without causing damage or altering the physical structure of the currency.

One potential technique that utilizes gamma ray radiation for detecting counterfeit money is referred to as gamma ray imaging. This process involves exposing banknotes to controlled levels of gamma radiation and capturing the resulting gamma ray images using specialized detectors. Through advanced image analysis algorithms, these images can provide detailed information about the internal composition of the banknotes.

Counterfeit banknotes often differ in their internal structure compared to genuine currency. This distinction can be detected by analyzing the gamma ray images and identifying irregularities or deviations. By comparing the obtained results with a database of known genuine banknotes, the authenticity of the inspected currency can be confirmed or questioned.

Gamma ray radiation-based methods for detecting counterfeit money have several advantages. Firstly, they offer a non-destructive and non-invasive approach to inspecting banknotes, preserving the physical integrity of the currency. Additionally, this technology enables the identification of counterfeit money with a high degree of accuracy and efficiency, facilitating quick and reliable detection.

It is worth noting that the implementation of gamma ray detection systems in financial institutions would require careful consideration of safety measures. Gamma rays can be harmful to human health if not controlled and shielded properly. Therefore, thorough risk assessments and appropriate safety protocols must be in place to ensure the protection of individuals operating and interacting with these systems.

In conclusion, incorporating gamma ray radiation technology into the detection of counterfeit money offers a promising avenue to enhance the security and integrity of financial systems. By utilizing non-destructive techniques such as gamma ray imaging, financial institutions can efficiently identify counterfeit banknotes and minimize the negative impacts of fraudulent activities on the economy.

[lkhemy]

At LKH Electric (M) Sdn Bhd, our products are locally manufactured in i4.0 ready manufacturing facilities, ensuring the most rigorous quality control tests are conducted for reliable and safe power distribution.

[petrichorium]

i will always support u making my posts about robot fucking

I was thinking abt soundwave in particular and how it starts with pure curiosity. You’re so soft and pliable, and every part of you is so sensitive. He has to be so gentle but it’s downright hypnotizing to prod at you and feel the soft give of your fragile flesh. You give him bared dentae and pouting dermas (teeth, humans call them. Lips. Odd little organics with strange terms that somehow suit your familiar-yet-foreign features) but they'd take more damage than they could possibly give if you attempted to use them on him, so it’s cute more than anything else.

Cuter still are the sounds you make. Piercing shrieks and little wobbles to the words of your empty threats only get louder and more shrill when his servos press against certain areas—the sides and front of your chest, the line of your neck where it throbs with life, the bottoms of your minuscule pedes. And then he discovers the noises he can pull from your lips when his digits slide between your legs.

You're so tiny, easy to squeeze too hard, so he decides his probes are better to use than his sharp digits. They hold you down as he watches, stoic and unmoving, no matter how much you squirm and thrash. That little bud swells to attention beneath the cool touch of his feelers and your protests give way to the prettiest pleading until something breaks and suddenly you're sobbing, optics glistening with fluid, dainty arms clutching at his probe for support rather than to push away. An overload, surely, or whatever your kind's version of such a thing would possibly be; despite himself, Soundwave finds himself preening at the idea. He keeps going past countless peaks and crashes until your voice has gone hoarse—keeps going beyond that, because you’re giving him different noises now and he’s not about to miss out on everything he can possibly pull from you. He doesn't stop until you've gone completely limp and he realizes your weak little body has been forced into that pesky recharge state that humans require so pitifully often. You're lucky he finds your noises compelling enough that he bothered to request one of those soft berths your kind prefers.

You aren't nearly as thankful as he deserves. You test his patience, days spent being fussy and uncooperative until you manage to tuck yourself away in a corner too small for him to pry you out without harm, and that's when he loses enough patience to forego the niceties. He plays the recordings you didn't even realize he took—your breathy moans and choked-off whines, every sob and keen and heave that now lives safely tucked away in his memory banks for him to peruse whenever he so pleases. He can't see you from where you cower, but he can sense how your faceplate heats up and hear the increasingly rapid pattering of your tiny organic heart, and though your alien body cannot generate the emfs his kind uses for their most intimate form of communication his own spark stutters with a wicked kind of excitement at your instinctive reaction.

His fortitude, after all, will prove much stronger than your obstinance. You'll emerge from your cold little nest and welcome his beckoning servo soon enough.

[tracklessreason]

Hive Prime AU. Anyways...

Ratchet's turn!

So Ratchet has been a little obsessive over the changes to Bumblebee's frame since he became a Prime. He wasn't there to study Optimus when he first obtained the Matrix, so this has been a pretty big medical opportunity for Ratchet. He's run a lot of tests and compared the data to Optimus' vitals to track differences in how they handle the energy of the Primes.

Something is wrong though. Hive's vitals...they aren't normal. There's fluctuations in his EMF field comparable to a very sick bot, his T-cog shows signs of damage you would expect in a mech several times his age.

Ratchet doesn't know if he should say something. He has no basis of knowledge for if this is normal wear and tear of being a new Prime, or if he should be seriously worried about Hive. He would talk with Optimus, but despite efforts to hide it, it's pretty obvious that Hive Prime is still fully aware of what happens when other Primes have control of his frame. Ratchet doesn't want to tell him yet, not until he's sure...

Please ask me about Hive Prime AU. I will literally tell you anything.

[cozzzynook]

*I hold out my bowl* please more suddenly a sparkling Roddy?

- Rodimus manages to sneak away from his babysitters one day. Brainstorm was busy testing a new experiment while Percy was getting a well deserved rest and left the sparkling gate unlocked.

- roddy was able to wiggle out of the bed and rolled right onto the tunnel trays that went throughout the ship.

- lucky for rodimus he ended up on the tray heading to the lounge room where Cyclonus, Whirl and Tailgate were.

- cyclnus danger senses were tingling and after holding Tailgate close to his chassis he stood to inspect the room and when the tray door opened and he saw Rodimus on it with a pede in his mouth heading to the next location. He quickly scooped him up and checked him over.

- tailgate was worried out of his processor and Cyclonus was already heading to take Rodimus to ratchet for a check up while Whirl was refusing to admit that scared him by cracking heinous jokes.

- ratchet said a slew of words he hopped baby Rodimus wouldn’t repeat and Cyclonus would not put Rodimus down for even a second.

- ratchet gave Rodimus a new battery for his spark machine and declared him fine.

- whirl went to the lab with Cyclonus and tailgate who gave brainstorm a lesson on sparkling safety that Tailgate kept Rodimus from seeing.

- cyclonus was holding and cooing over Rodimus after washing energon off his servos as Whirl called Ratchet to patch up the minor dents on brainstorm.

- tailgate took a bunch of pictures and thankfully did wonderful explaining the situation to perceptor when he woke from his rest.

- he was so grateful to cyclonus who he asked to watch Rodimus whenever he couldn’t and Cyclonus told him he was already going to do that seeing as Brainstorm was not reliable in that department.

Rodimus got to enjoy playing with Cyclonus scarf that Tailgate made him and he got to enjoy hearing the funny sounds Tailgate would make and the funny emf’s whirl would broadcast.

[lixii00]

Possession - Zak Bagans x Fem Reader

Word Count: 3105

MY MAN MY MAN MY MANNNNNNNN

You chewed on your lip, the flickering flashlight beam dancing across the peeling wallpaper. It was your first official ghost hunt with the Ghost Adventures crew, and nerves buzzed beneath your skin like static electricity. You’d been obsessed with the paranormal since you were a kid, glued to every episode of the show, and now you were here, boots on the ground, ready to investigate.

Zak Bagans, the enigmatic and intense leader, stood beside you, his own flashlight cutting through the oppressive darkness of the abandoned Crestwood Sanatorium. The air hung thick, heavy with the weight of years of suffering and decay. The stench of mildew and something vaguely metallic tickled your nose, making you wrinkle it slightly.

“Alright, Y/N,” Zak’s voice, usually booming on TV, was quieter here, more focused. “Ready to get your hands dirty?”

You swallowed, forcing a confident nod. “Born ready.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible smile, and then turned his attention back to the room. Aaron Goodwin, Billy Tolley, and Jay Wasley were fanning out, setting up equipment – cameras, EMF readers, spirit boxes. The familiar hum of their tech filled the silent space, a strange contrast to the unsettling stillness.

This was it. You were officially part of the Ghost Adventures team, even if just in a ‘trial by fire’ sort of way. Zak had reached out after seeing your online paranormal investigations, impressed by your meticulous research and – as he put it – your “unflinching approach to the unknown.” You still felt a thrill course through you remembering that email.

“We’re in the main patient ward,” Zak explained, gesturing around the cavernous room. Rows of empty beds, their metal frames rusted and skeletal, lined the space. Paint peeled from the high ceilings like sunburnt skin, and the floorboards groaned underfoot with each step. “High reports of residual energy and… something darker here. Nurse’s station over there,” he pointed with his chin, “that’s where we’re going to start.”

You nodded, heart pounding a rhythm against your ribs. You’d done your research on Crestwood. It had a grim history, rife with mistreatment and experimental procedures. Stories of patient deaths, whispered screams, and lingering despair clung to the very fabric of the building like cobwebs.

As you followed Zak to the nurse’s station, you pulled out your digital recorder, switching it on. “Testing, testing. Location: Crestwood Sanatorium, Main Patient Ward. Date and time…” You rattled off the details, your voice a little shaky.

Zak watched you, his intense blue eyes assessing. “Enthusiasm is good, Y/N, but don’t let it cloud your senses. Stay grounded, stay alert.”

“I will,” you promised, feeling a surge of determination. You wouldn’t let nerves get the best of you. You were here to prove yourself.

The nurse’s station was surprisingly intact, a small counter with drawers and cabinets behind. Dust coated everything, thick and undisturbed. Zak pulled out his EMF reader, the needle jumping immediately.

“Baseline is already high,” he muttered, frowning. “Okay, team. Let’s spread out, start our initial sweeps. Y/N, stay with me for now.”

You felt a small thrill at being chosen to stick with Zak. You tried to play it cool, nodding and focusing on your equipment. You pulled out your own EMF reader, mirroring Zak’s movements, watching the needle dance erratically.

“Anything?” Zak asked, his voice low.

“Yeah, definitely elevated,” you confirmed, noting the readings on your recorder too. “Inconsistent pulses, though.”

Zak nodded, his gaze sweeping over the room, sharp and focused. “Let’s try the spirit box.”

Billy set up the spirit box on the counter, the rapid-fire static hiss filling the silence. Zak began his questioning, his voice resonating with authority.

“Is there anyone here with us? Can you speak to us? Tell us your name.”

Static crackled, then fragmented words flickered through the noise. “…help…” “…pain…” “…dark…”

Goosebumps erupted on your arms. You exchanged a wide-eyed look with Zak. This was faster, more intense, than anything you’d experienced on your solo investigations.

“Can you tell us why you are in pain?” Zak pressed, his voice unwavering.

More static, then a clearer voice, deeper, guttural. “Leave.”

The air in the room seemed to physically constrict. A sudden chill ran down your spine, so intense it made your teeth chatter. You gripped your EMF reader tighter, your knuckles white.

“Did you hear that?” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Zak stared at the spirit box, his jaw tight. “Yeah. That was… hostile.”

Suddenly, the temperature plummeted. The flickering fluorescent lights overhead buzzed and dimmed erratically. You felt a prickling sensation on your skin, like tiny needles. You were picking up on something, something strong.

Aaron, who was in a corner of the ward, called out, his voice laced with apprehension. “Guys, my camera just cut out. And my batteries are fully charged.”

Billy’s spirit box sputtered and died, the static abruptly ceasing. Jay’s flashlight beam wavered, then flickered off completely, plunging his section into near darkness.

A wave of unease washed over you, stronger than anything you’d felt before. It wasn’t just a ghostly presence; it felt… malevolent. You took a step closer to Zak instinctively, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Okay, team,” Zak said sharply, his voice cutting through the growing tension. “Power fluctuations. Could be environmental, could be… something else. Stay together, eyes open. Y/N, stick close.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You felt a primal fear rising in your throat, but also a strange, morbid fascination. This was what you were here for, wasn't it? To face the darkness, to understand the unknown.

Zak moved slowly, cautiously, deeper into the ward. You followed, your flashlight beam trembling slightly. The silence was deafening now, the hum of the equipment gone, replaced by an oppressive stillness. You could feel the weight of unseen eyes on you, a sense of being watched, scrutinized.

Then, it happened.

A whisper, right in your ear, so close it sent shivers down your spine. It wasn’t audible, not exactly. It was more like a thought, planted directly in your mind, cold and insidious.

You are weak.

You gasped, stumbling back, your hand flying to your ear.

“Y/N?” Zak’s voice was instantly sharp with concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t articulate it, couldn’t explain the icy intrusion in your thoughts. “I… I heard something. Whispering.”

“Where?” Zak scanned the room, his flashlight beam sweeping around.

“Right here,” you pointed to your ear, your hand trembling. “In my head… it felt like… a thought.”

Zak’s brow furrowed. He placed a hand on your arm, his touch surprisingly firm and grounding. “Describe it. What did it say?”

You hesitated, the words feeling foolish, insignificant in the face of the overwhelming dread that was building. “It… it said I was weak.”

Zak’s eyes narrowed. He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “Don’t listen to it, Y/N. It’s trying to get inside your head. Don’t let it.”

He was right. You knew he was right. Fear was a weapon for these entities, a way to manipulate and control. You had to fight back. You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself.

“Okay,” you said, your voice firmer now, despite the tremor of fear still running through you. “Okay, I’m okay. Let’s keep going.”

Zak studied your face for a moment, his expression still concerned, but he nodded. “Alright. But you tell me immediately if you feel anything else, understand?”

“Absolutely.”

You continued deeper into the ward, the sense of dread growing with each step. The air grew colder, heavier, and the silence was more profound, more unsettling. You felt a palpable shift in the energy of the room, a drawing in, a focusing. It felt like something was gathering, concentrating its power.

Then, everything went to hell.

A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the silence, shattering the oppressive stillness. It was Aaron’s voice, raw with terror.

“Zak! Something’s got me!”

You whirled around, flashlight beam frantically searching. Aaron was slumped against a bed frame, his body rigid, eyes wide and staring, unfocused. He was making choking, gasping sounds, struggling for breath.

“Aaron!” Zak yelled, rushing towards him. Billy and Jay scrambled to Aaron’s side too, their flashlights converging on the scene.

As you moved closer, you saw it. It wasn’t visible, not in a way you could see with your eyes, but you felt it. A dark, oppressive presence clinging to Aaron, like a shroud. The air around him shimmered, distorted, as if heat was rising off asphalt on a summer day, but this was cold heat, a chilling distortion.

“Get it off him!” Zak yelled, grabbing Aaron’s shoulders, trying to pull him away from the bed frame. But Aaron was rigid, locked in place. His eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites.

“Aaron, can you hear me?” Zak shouted, shaking him. “Aaron, fight it! Fight it!”

Suddenly, Aaron’s head snapped up, his body convulsing violently. His eyes, when they focused again, were no longer Aaron’s. They were dark, malevolent, filled with an inhuman rage. His mouth opened, and a voice, deeper, harsher, utterly terrifying, erupted from his throat.

“You cannot stop me!”

The voice was not Aaron’s. It was guttural, monstrous, echoing in the ward, vibrating in your bones. Fear turned into icy terror, paralyzing you. You stumbled back, your flashlight falling from your numb fingers, clattering to the floor and plunging you into near darkness.

You could only watch, frozen, as Aaron – as whatever was possessing Aaron – thrashed wildly, his body slamming against the bed frame, the metal groaning under the force. Zak and Billy struggled to restrain him, but it was like trying to hold down a force of nature.

“Holy shit!” Jay yelled, his voice cracking with fear. “It’s a full-blown possession!”

Possession. The word hit you like a physical blow, solidifying the horrifying reality of what you were witnessing. This wasn’t residual energy, this wasn’t a fleeting encounter. This was something ancient, something evil, taking hold.

And then, it turned its attention on you.

The possessed Aaron’s head snapped in your direction, those terrifying eyes locking onto yours in the dim light. A cruel, twisted smile stretched his lips, a smile that was utterly alien, utterly wrong on Aaron’s face.

"You are the weak one," the monstrous voice hissed, directed solely at you. "You are the one I will break."

The words were like a physical assault, ripping through your defenses, amplifying the fear that was already consuming you. It felt like the entity was reaching out, not just with its voice, but with its very essence, probing, invading. You felt a cold tendril of something dark brush against your mind, and you recoiled instinctively.

But it was too late.

The coldness intensified, spreading through you like ice water. Your breath hitched in your throat. Your vision swam, blurring around the edges. Your limbs felt heavy,leaden, unresponsive. The room seemed to tilt, to spin around you.

You were falling.

You crumpled to the floor, your body hitting the cold, hard wood with a jarring thud. Darkness closed in around you, suffocating crushing. You could hear muffled shouts the frantic scrambling of footsteps, but they sounded distant unreal.

You tried to move, to breathe, but your body wouldn’t obey. Your lungs burned gasping for air that wouldn’t come. The coldness seeped deeper into your bones into your soul. You felt yourself drifting slipping away into the darkness.

This was it. This was how it ended. Not valiantly fighting ghosts, not uncovering secrets of the paranormal but dying on the cold floor of an abandoned asylum consumed by fear and… something else. Something evil.

Just as the darkness threatened to engulf you completely, a voice cut through the haze, sharp, insistent, filled with a desperate urgency.

“Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me? Stay with me!  Stay with me!”

It was Zak. His voice, raw with fear and something more… something that sounded like pain. His hands were shaking you gently but firmly. You felt a faint warmth a flicker of light in the encroaching darkness.

You forced your eyes open, struggling to focus. Zak’s face swam into view, inches from yours pale and strained in the dim light. His blue eyes, usually so intense were wide with fear but also… something else. Relief? Panic? Both?

“Y/N, you’re fading!” he yelled his voice tight with desperation. “Fight it! You have to fight it!”

Fight what? You were too weak too tired,The darkness was so inviting, so… peaceful.

But then, you saw his eyes. Zak’s eyes, locked on yours, pleading, urging you to fight. And in that moment something sparked within you. A flicker of defiance a refusal to surrender. You wouldn’t let this darkness win. Not here. Not now. Not while Zak was… looking at you like that.

You focused on his face on the intensity in his eyes, drawing strength from his desperation. You took a shallow shuddering breath, then another. Slowly agonizingly, sensation began to return to your limbs. The oppressive coldness began to recede, replaced by a faint, fragile warmth.

You coughed, a weak rattling sound. Zak’s grip on your shoulders tightened, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“That’s it,” he whispered his voice hoarse with emotion. “Come on, Y/N. You’re stronger than it.  You’re stronger than it!”

His words were like a lifeline, pulling you back from the abyss. You focused on them, on his voice, on the warmth of his hands on your shoulders. Slowly painstakingly you pushed yourself up sitting, then kneeling.

The room swam back into focus, hazy at first, then clearing. You saw Aaron still thrashing Billy and Jay struggling to restrain him. But the dark, oppressive presence that had clung to him that had reached for you… it seemed to have lessened, to have weakened.

Zak helped you to your feet, his hands still gripping your arms tightly, as if afraid you would slip away again. He scanned your face his eyes searching assessing.

“You’re back,” he breathed, his voice thick with relief. “You’re really back.”

You nodded your legs still shaky your chest still tight but you were back. You were alive You had faced the darkness and you had survived.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, almost desperate hug. It was the first time he’d ever touched you, and the physical contact the warmth of his body against yours, sent a jolt of something unexpected through you something that wasn’t fear.

“You scared the absolute shit out of me,” he muttered into your hair, his voice muffled but raw with emotion. “Don’t ever do that again.”

He pulled back slightly, holding you at arm’s length, his blue eyes boring into yours intense searching, and… something else. Something softer, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“What… what happened?” you whispered, your voice still weak and shaky. “What was that?”

Zak’s jaw tightened. He glanced back at Aaron, who was still struggling, but the demonic voice seemed to have subsided, replaced by pained, desperate moans.

“It was demonic,” Zak said grimly, his voice low. “A powerful entity. It sensed your sensitivity, your… your openness. It tried to exploit it, to break you, to take you.”

His words sent another chill down your spine, but this time it wasn’t fear. It was a strange mix of fear and awe a dawning realization of the true power of the forces they were dealing with. And a strange sense of gratitude for being pulled back from the brink.

He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek his thumb gently stroking your skin. His touch was surprisingly tender contrasting sharply with his usual intensity. You looked up at him, your gaze locking with his and in that moment something shifted. The fear the adrenaline the near-death experience… it all coalesced into something else entirely.

He leaned down slowly hesitantly his eyes never leaving yours. Your breath hitched in your throat You knew what was coming, and you didn’t resist. You couldn’t resist.

His lips met yours, tentatively at first, then with a surprising urgency. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, not in the romantic sense. It was… something else. A kiss of relief of gratitude and… connection. A silent acknowledgment of shared fear shared vulnerability and shared survival.

When he pulled back, he kept his hand on your cheek, his thumb still stroking your skin His eyes were searching yours still filled with a mixture of relief and concern.

“You need to be more careful,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. The words were a reprimand but they were laced with an undercurrent of something else something deeper something that resonated in your chest. “You can’t just… throw yourself into the deep end like that. You understand?”

You nodded, your heart still pounding, your lips still tingling from his touch. You understood You’d been reckless too eager to prove yourself. You’d almost paid the ultimate price for that recklessness.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice still shaky. “I understand.”

He stared at you for another moment, his expression unreadable, then he let out a breath, a long, shaky exhale. He dropped his hand from your cheek, stepping back slightly, creating a small space between you again. The moment of intimacy, of vulnerability, seemed to recede replaced by the familiar professional intensity.

“Okay,” he said, his voice regaining its usual authority. “Aaron, Billy, Jay, let’s get Aaron out of here. We need to regroup, cleanse him, and then… we need to re-evaluate our approach here.”

He turned away, barking orders to the others, taking charge again, the leader, the protector, the intense and driven Zak Bagans you knew from TV. But something had shifted, something had changed. You had seen a glimpse behind the mask a flicker of vulnerability a flash of raw emotion and he had kissed you.

As you watched him directing the team helping to support a still-weak Aaron towards the exit, you touched your fingers to your lips, the ghost of his kiss still lingering there. You knew one thing for sure: your first ghost hunt with Ghost Adventures had been anything but ordinary. It had been terrifying, exhilarating, and… strangely, unexpectedly, intimate. And you had a feeling a deep unsettling thrilling feeling that this was just the beginning. You were officially in the deep end now and Zak Bagans was right there with you.

A/n let me know if you want more zak bagans storyyy!

[motherfornicator]

Chapter 9: The Interdimensional Flight Risk Moves In

Summary: Ghosts, cursed objects, and a very familiar thief. Y/N’s knowledge keeps the Winchesters ahead of the game—but it’s not just her intel they’re warming up to. Because between late-night case talk and shared weapon cleaning, it’s getting harder to remember she wasn’t always here.

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1696

After the chaos of the fairy-tale case, door tests, and dimension-hopping revelations, Sam and Dean reached a mutual decision: you weren’t going anywhere without supervision. Much to your dismay, that translated into sharing motel rooms from then on. It also meant an endless barrage of teasing from Dean—especially after the discovery that physical touch was the only sure way to stop you from disappearing.

Days passed in a blur of roadside diners, classic rock playlists, and obituaries spread across diner tables. Eventually, the three of you landed on a promising new case—what looked like a straightforward salt-and-burn haunting. Not glamorous, but after recent chaos, the simplicity was welcome.

Checking into the motel, however, proved... less than simple. Sam secured the key and opened the door to your latest room, only to freeze in the doorway. Dean stepped past him, eyebrows raised.

"Uh-oh," Dean announced dramatically, a grin already pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Looks like we've got a bed shortage."

You peered around them both, heart sinking slightly when you saw the singular, large bed dominating the small room. "Great. Fantastic. So now what?"

Dean’s smirk deepened. "Looks like someone’s bunking up."

Sam quickly claimed the worn-out couch across from the bed, giving you an apologetic shrug. "Sorry. Trust me, you'd rather not sleep on this thing anyway. Springs and all."

You glared, already knowing where this was going. "So it’s me and Dean?"

Dean wiggled his eyebrows. "Lucky you."

"Oh, please," you scoffed, rolling your eyes even as your face flushed. "I’ll just sleep on the floor."

"Yeah, not happening," Dean said immediately, tossing his duffel onto the bed with finality. "I’m not dealing with your grumpy ass tomorrow if you're sore. We're adults. It'll be fine."

You sighed dramatically. "Fine. But keep your hands to yourself, Winchester."

"Same goes for you," Dean shot back, grin intact.

Sam rolled his eyes, setting up his couch-bed. "God, it's like babysitting teenagers."

—

The next morning, you set off early, heading to the old, supposedly haunted house from your research. Sam was upstairs investigating, while you and Dean took the lower floor, cautiously scanning darkened rooms with EMF readers and flashlights. The atmosphere was tense, the air heavy with dust and anticipation.

"Okay, seriously," Dean was saying, sweeping his flashlight across the living room. "You've never seen The Shining? It’s a classic."

You shook your head, distractedly checking a nearby doorway. "I’ve seen it in bits and pieces, but it’s just not my thing. Creepy hotels and axe murders? Hard pass."

Dean scoffed. "It’s more than that—it’s psychological. Jack Nicholson at his peak. Here’s Johnny! I mean how can you resist?"

"Pretty easily, actually," you said, laughing at his exaggerated offense. You stepped forward absentmindedly, reaching for the next doorknob as you rolled your eyes at Dean's dramatics.

As soon as the door opened, the dim hallway disappeared. You were suddenly standing on garish, vintage carpeting. A familiar chill crawled down your spine.

“Oh, no,” you whispered. “No, no, no—”

At the far end of the corridor, two identical girls appeared, staring blankly at you.

"Come play with us," they called softly.

“Yeah, nope. Definitely not,” you choked out, spinning around and barreling through the nearest door. You stumbled back into the old house, breath heaving.

Dean turned to you, startled. "What the hell just happened?"

You grabbed his arms for balance. "Shining... You had to talk about The Shining, Dean?"

Realization dawned, and Dean smirked despite himself. "Well, at least you didn’t run into Jack."

"You're hilarious," you muttered dryly, brushing past him and heading toward the stairs. "You know what? Next time, I'll just stick with Sam."

Dean looked mock-offended, following close behind. "Traitor."

—

The next case took you to a small coastal town, where people were inexplicably drowning—on dry land. Dean’s skepticism was clear as Sam recounted the details from the newspaper clippings spread out on the diner table. Your stomach dropped as you recognized the case immediately: Bela Talbot, the ghost ship, the cursed sailor's hand—this was going to be messy.

Sam sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “People don’t just drown standing in their living rooms. What could even do this?”

Dean shot him a pointed look. “Well, Sammy, that's why we're here.” He then turned his attention to you, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Unless someone’s feeling generous with spoilers today?"

You hesitated, biting your lip. They'd gotten comfortable enough to ask you for hints about cases, knowing you'd watched the show and had an unfair advantage. Dean, of course, was more than happy to exploit this newfound resource.

"Well?" Dean prompted, leaning forward with a hopeful smirk. "What are we dealing with? Ghost? Vengeful spirit? Some angry mermaid?"

You rolled your eyes lightly, but a small smile slipped through your attempt at seriousness. "It's a spirit, tied to a cursed object—the Hand of Glory. Bela's after it too, so you already know it's not going to be straightforward."

Dean groaned loudly, rubbing his temples. "Great, Bela. As if we weren't having enough fun already."

"Just don’t trust her," you warned firmly. "She'll pretend to help, but the second she gets a chance, she'll screw you over."

Sam nodded slowly, eyes thoughtful. "So, the ghost ship sightings—they’re connected to this?"

You nodded. "Yeah, it's the sailor’s spirit killing people who've spilled innocent blood. You'll need to destroy the Hand of Glory, but Bela's gonna get in your way. She plans to steal it from the Maritime Museum, so you guys need to get to it first."

Dean gave you an appreciative look, a slow grin pulling at his lips. "See, Sammy? Having Y/N around has its perks."

Sam shook his head with a small smile, clearly relieved to have at least part of the mystery solved. "Alright, let's move quickly then."

And move quickly you did. With your guidance, the three of you managed to snag the Hand of Glory before Bela could interfere, neatly avoiding her usual complications. Bela showed up eventually, irritation plain on her face when she realized you guys had beaten her to the punch.

"How did you find it so fast?" she demanded, folding her arms as her eyes narrowed suspiciously at Dean.

Dean shot you a brief glance, lips twitching into a knowing smirk. "Sorry, sweetheart. Can't give away trade secrets."

Bela's gaze shifted sharply toward you, clearly assessing. You smiled sweetly, giving a tiny wave. "Nice to meet you, Bela."

She didn’t reply, only eyed you suspiciously before turning her attention back to Dean. "Well, if you're smart, you'll get rid of it immediately. The thing's nasty business."

"Already taken care of," Dean drawled, eyes glinting mischievously. "Thanks for the tip though."

With a frustrated sigh, Bela turned on her heel and vanished into the night. Dean chuckled, nudging your shoulder gently. "Now that? That was satisfying."

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "Glad to help."

Sam gave you a grateful nod. "Definitely saved us a lot of trouble. We definitely owe you for this one.”

Dean grinned, “Looks like having you around isn’t such a pain in the ass after all.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, relaxing into the easy atmosphere. “You’re welcome, Winchester.”

—

The next day, after a long night's drive and checking into another tacky motel, you sat cross-legged on the bed, flipping channels while Dean cleaned his weapons. Sam had gone to grab dinner, leaving the two of you alone.

"Dean," you sighed. "Your taste in motels sucks."

He didn’t look up. "It’s a subtle art. I wouldn’t expect a beginner like you to appreciate it."

"Oh, I’m sorry. Is that why every room smells like wet dog and cigarettes?"

Dean finally looked up and grinned. "That’s called ambiance."

You rolled your eyes and stretched. The silence between you felt easy.

Eventually, you rolled onto your stomach, watching him work. "Teach me?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You want to learn how to clean guns?"

You shrugged. "Might as well make myself useful."

He nodded toward the chair. "Alright. Come here."

You joined him, and he handed you a shotgun, carefully explaining each step. As you worked side by side, your shoulders brushed occasionally, and you committed every instruction to memory.

"You catch on quick," he said eventually.

You smiled. "Well, I’ve got a good teacher."

Dean cleared his throat and glanced away, his voice going casual again. "Don’t let it get to your head."

You laughed softly and nudged him with your shoulder, settling back into the task in content silence.

—

The next morning, you leaned against the hood of the Impala, sipping your coffee. Dean stood beside you, squinting toward Sam, who was reading obituaries nearby.

"You know," you said, watching Dean. "I’ve been meaning to ask—think I could drive the Impala sometime?"

Dean nearly choked. "Nice try, sweetheart. But absolutely not."

You bumped his arm. "Oh, come on. I drive a manual, and I’m great behind the wheel."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You? Handling Baby? You’re kidding."

You crossed your arms. "Dude, I’ve never stalled once."

He shook his head. "Still not happening. Baby stays in my very capable hands."

You sighed. "Just wait. You’ll cave eventually."

Dean smiled into his coffee. "Keep dreaming."

Sam finally returned, newspaper in hand. "Guys, found our next case."

Dean nudged you. "See? Sammy’s more useful than you. I don’t hear him begging to touch my car."

You scoffed. "That’s because he already knows you’d never trust him behind the wheel."

Sam shook his head. "You two done flirting?"

Dean straightened instantly. "Shut up, Sammy."

You flushed, laughing awkwardly. Dean changed the subject quickly, running over the case details.

—

Over time, road trips with the Winchesters became easier. You laughed more, Dean relaxed more, and Sam grew accustomed to your constant bickering. Somewhere along the way, you became a part of their weird little world.

Dean smiled more around you—not that he’d admit it. And while you remained happily unaware, Sam saw it all. He saw how Dean looked at you, how your laughter softened him. He understood what was happening between you both... even if neither of you did yet.

[starbound-jupiter]

also also followup on vamp seawatt, avian evbo and uh shapeshifter?? mist creature that can change their form to whatever they want emf hides in my cave once again

OMG. SO LIKE,, WOULD EVERY LEVEL BE A DIFFERENT CREATURE THEN??

love love love the idea of EMF as a shapeshifter- particularly because that implies the super ominous form he takes is a Deliberate Choice 😭😭

and avian evbo immediately has my whole heart!! this does, however- present some questions. is everyone on the noob level an avian? and more importantly, what kind of bird is evbo?

i’m gonna say there’s different variations of avians on the noob level, like- they’re not all the same species, just to add some flair!! and in regards to evbo, just. hear me out okay.

pigeon. pigeon evbo.

first off- i think those wings would be really cute with his general style lol, but there is a deeper reasoning!!

if you’ve talked to me for more than twenty minutes, you’ve probably heard my Pigeon Rant before. i love those babies with all of my heart, and think they’re some of the most horribly misunderstood creatures out there. and like!! the more i think about it, there are a lot of similarities between the treatment of pigeons and the people on the noob level.

they’re viewed as dirty, inherently lesser than- and fucking helpless, relying on our scraps to survive. but here’s the thing. pigeons were domesticated by humans.

when animals are domesticated, they lose their ability to survive on their own. that’s why we’re told to bring injured animals to the vet instead of nursing them back to health ourselves- because most people don’t know how to properly take care of an animal without it becoming reliant on them. and when they put it back into the wild, it just dies.

the noob level is entirely reliant on the upper levels. and this isn’t because they’re too weak or helpless to survive on their own, but rather their means of independent survival are purposely withheld.

and THEN, this fact is used to justify their treatment!! why treat them with dignity, after all- they’re just pests!! they’re disposable- something to be thrown away the second they’re not useful. cough cough the prison testing courses

so yeah!! i’d say that our society’s inherent cruelty to pigeons is a fucking heartbreaking metaphor for pkciv. therefore, pigeon evbo.

(also if someone draws this i will love you forever)

[iamthecomet]

If the ministry/Abby have a glamour is it just the outside or is the actual building broken

That's the beauty of magic, it could be either. I think, for most people, the glamour extends. It's a broken building. Dangerous. Rotting floors. Cracked stone. Broken glass. The peices are all there. Nothing extra, nothing missing. They're just in the wrong places, the plants are a little more wild. Pushing up through the stone, climbing through busted windows. Quintessence is a hell of a drug. We talk about it being used for hallucinations all the time. So, it stands to reason that there are wards, protections, hallucinations, that extend to anyone who walks in without the right intentions. That being said I think it's a little goofy when you're inside the real ministry and some outsider is walking around. The siblings/ghouls/clergy members can see them--but they can't see the clergy. It's almost like they're the ghosts. Walking through, eyes darting around. Stepping over felled beams that no one in the actual abbey can see. They're given wide birth, the people who need to know about them are summoned (Swiss, usually, he really loves to fuck with them. And Dew, on occasion, though he tends to be a little more malicious. Omega or Aether to make sure the hallucination holds). And they are watched/tormented/followed until they leave or die.

No wonder people feel so weird when they go into certain rooms. Sick, cold, dizzy. They attribute it to EMF fields or ghosts, but really it's just Aether dragging his fingers down their spine and pumping them full of quintessence. I'm also plauged by the idea of these people wandering into ghoul rooms. Seeing overturned bookshelfs. Trinkets littering the floor. Bending down to pick up a small glass turtle and roll it between their fingers before they're unceremoniously shoved over and the turtle just disappears. Rain really doesn't like it when they touch his things.

On the other hand--those with good intentions. Or those who do a very specific ritual in the basement ritual room--will find the glamor draining away when they step into the main abbey. They'll find themselves in the real abbey. How else do you think Siblings get recruited? They have to pass the test (do you know the ritual OR are you "pure of heart" for lack of a better phrase). And if they do--they'll find themselves welcomed home.

[silent-and-deadly]

I completely forgot about snacks! Those are always necessary!

Hey dude!

You wanna go ghost hunting with me this morning?

Oo! Sure! Do I need to bring anything in particular?

[wendichester]

𓂃˖ ࣪ 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔟𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤

˚₊‧꒰ა em ☆ dean winchester ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ⋆˙⟡ where taurus, cancer, scorpio meets aquarius, leo*, saggitarius. ⟡˙⋆

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐

ꔛ. meeting each other,

✧ what’s the most likely way for you two to meet?

your chart screams you're someone who knows too much. too observant. too calm under pressure. so the most likely scenario? you’re involved in a case, but you’re not a hunter. you’re the civilian who notices things others don’t. maybe it’s your town being haunted. maybe you’ve already started putting the pieces together when the winchesters roll in. you’re not impressed. they’re loud, messy, and late. but dean? dean notices you immediately. you’re not scared. you’re not shocked. you’re just… assessing. and that unnerves him.

✧ are you a hunter or a civilian?

civilian, but with hunter tendencies. maybe you’ve got a loved one caught in the mess. maybe you’ve been haunted before. your scorpio moon and virgo mars mean you're not the type to run—you analyze, endure, and then act. you’re slow to trust, but once you commit, you’re all in. you’re the researcher, the one pulling lore from dusty books and cross-checking EMF readings with astrology transits for fun. dean teases you about it, but keeps your printouts in his glove compartment.

✧ what’s his first impression of you?

“too quiet. too smart. too pretty. too dangerous.” he clocks you as a threat—not in the physical sense, but emotionally. your eyes see right through his bullshit, and your silence says more than his banter ever could. you intimidate him... and he likes it. but it also terrifies him. you feel like a test he’s destined to fail.

ꔛ. friendship compatibility,

✧ how would the friendship be like?

slow-building, deeply loyal, intense. you’re the type to show care by doing things: cleaning his wounds, bringing him food, fixing his coat when he won’t. he doesn’t get it at first. he’s used to loud, fiery friendships. but you’re constant. and that means something. he starts talking to you. really talking. and once he realizes you won’t judge him for the dark stuff? he never stops.

✧ how would it begin?

mutual respect. quiet nights at motels where you sit across from him, typing into your laptop while he nurses a beer. he doesn’t say much. neither do you. but it feels like safety. you save each other in ways that aren’t always visible. and he notices.

✧ quirks and fun things about it:

✶ you call him on his crap in the most deadpan way ✶ you do not let him eat crap for three days in a row ✶ he buys you snacks but pretends it’s “just there if you want” ✶ your playlists are weirdly good for road trips and he secretly steals your music recs ✶ he confides in you before he even realizes he’s doing it

ꔛ. romantic compatibility,

✧ are you compatible? is there a chance for friendship to develop into more?

it’s not obvious—but yes. deeply. karmically. painfully. this isn’t a fling. it’s pluto-soulmate-depths-of-the-ocean kind of love. you’re a fixed sign. so is he (moon + asc). you both dig in and stay. the emotional connection is like a gravitational pull. but here’s the kicker: you make him feel things he avoids. you don’t push. you wait. and that’s what gets him. he doesn’t know how to handle being truly seen. this only works if he’s ready. and you have the patience to wait... but not forever.

✧ what type of relationship would it be?

slow-burn turned ride-or-die. it starts quiet, with glances and near-touches. it evolves into the kind of love that has rituals—coffee before hunts. packing each other's bags. calling at weird hours just to hear a voice. you stabilize him. he softens you. but there’s always heat under the surface—unspoken things, long looks, nights where neither of you sleep but neither says why.

✧ what are your love languages according to the charts?

✶ you: acts of service (virgo mars, taurus mercury), quality time (taurus sun), words of affirmation (gemini venus) ✶ dean: physical touch (sag venus + leo asc), acts of service (cap mercury), rare words said like confessions you show love in practical, thoughtful ways. he shows it through presence, through doing. you teach each other how to speak the other’s language.

ꔛ. scenario, ₊˚⊹౨ in a relationship ৎ ₊˚⊹

you hate motel pillows. they’re flat, lumpy, and always smell like mildew. but you wake up with one under your head anyway—because he swapped it out when you fell asleep, and used the crappy one himself. he’s already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, gun in one hand, coffee in the other. his shoulders are tense. “you were twitching in your sleep,” he says without turning around. “dreamt i lost you.” that makes him turn. eyes too soft for 7 a.m. in kentucky. “you won’t.” you roll over, tugging the blanket higher. “don’t make promises.” he sets the gun down. climbs back into bed like he’s sinking into you. like he wants to be kept. “then let me make breakfast instead.” “you’re gonna burn the eggs again.” “probably.” he kisses your shoulder. “but you’ll eat ‘em anyway.” you will. because he made them. because he tried. because love, for you two, is always in the trying.

ꔛ. overall, score : 8.5 / 10

slow-burn soulmate romance wrapped in practical magic. you’re the quiet storm to his chaos. the grounding to his wild. the love is earned, not rushed. but it’s worth it. what makes this work isn’t fireworks—it’s trust. patience. shared silences. quiet acts of devotion that speak louder than any grand gesture. if he’s ready for real? you’re the one who teaches him how to be soft without fear. and once he falls? he doesn’t look back.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

* since the birth time of dean hasn't ever been mentioned, I've placed him as a leo rising, since it's the sign that makes more sense to me.