#haunted meme

[townofcadence]

(( 👻 from @just-another-rhinestonecowboy Coincidentally my guy who is a rambling man decided to settle in/shelter for the night at what looks like just an abandoned house. He's not got a clue that it's haunted.))

👻 to enter a haunted house @just-another-rhinestonecowboy

Jace hums, bouncing on his heels as he follows Opal up the weather-worn steps. The house looms, an ancient dilapidated home of two stories. The walls and railing are coated in moss and fungus, where the paint has peeled and cracked, and they have to duck under a drapery of spanish moss where it's collected on the roof from the overhead live oaks. It's almost picture-esque-- if what you're looking for is a place that sent a chill down your spine. A haunted house, most locals swore up and down, where you could see a man's sillouette in the second story windows at night, or hear a woman singing and the sound of her weeping child she was consoling, if you were inside.

And that was exactly what Jace was here for; the Pigeon Residence was far from the most haunted place in the world, hardly even a blip on most paranormal investigators' radars, but that was what made it so perfect. It wasn't-- it wasn't fake, like you might see at some 'most haunted places in the world' where they were selling you a haunting. He wanted smaller cases, ones that others might not ever hear about. This was about the history, about sharing stories of those that came before, and maybe, just maybe, one of these days seeing something real, if he kept trying. It wasn't about treading the same ground for the attention, which was fine, but not what he wanted. This was.... hopefully a place for something real. Or maybe the next one might be-- or the next!

It didn't really matter, though; he loves these places, and the lives that lived here, or even looking into things for his community when it came up. He would happily spend the rest of his life researching and trying to understand, even if it never amounted to more.

Opal takes point, her short hair bouncing with her equally peppy steps, like a small cloud streaked with pink and blue. She has a bat nocked against her shoulder, her favorite wooden one with a few nails jaggedly sticking out, and a few little doodles he'd painted on the wood for her, including a bunny and a few hearts and stars. He's never seen her use it, but the sight of the weapon alone was usually enough to scare off anyone who might want trouble, so it serves a protective purpose, which works for them, for sure.

He slips the fabric handle of his camcorder over his palm, and records a shot of her bouncing her way down the dusty, rotting hall. "This is th' Pigeon Residence. Isn't it breathtakin'? Y'don't see paneling like this anymore in houses." He pans over the walls, carved delicately with small floral designs. A few petals are missing, but most remain-- he only holds back from touching them, to feel the raised wood beneath his fingers, when he considers how old the place is, and how delicate they might be. But even after so long in disrepair, they stand out, elegant and beautiful. "Th' owners of this place were Delilah and Dalton Carver-- the name Pigeon came from the work Delilah did an' what they became known f'r."

The two pass into a larger room, one with a skylight, long since opened to the skies above. Glass littered the floor and crunched with the dead leaves beneath their shoes. Cages line the walls as well, rusted on both hinges and delicately thin bars. Hanging rods were broken above them, and fabric tattered to pieces by moths and other insects as well as time lay in frumpy piles near where they might've been drawn. Inside the cages are, unsurprisingly, leaves, but also dozens of cobwebbed nests in the different enclosures; he's sure if he dug into the litter, he might find feathers and shells, too, if they survived. There's also a few cigarettes, evidence of newcomers who visited before them.

He lets his hand appear on the corner of his camcorder, gesturing around the domed room. "This is the aviary. Mrs. Carver kept birds-- pigeons-- which were sometimes trained as messengers. She was said t' have kept a variety of species, and her birds were considered the most well-trained you could get for at least a hundred miles. Whether that's true 'r not isn't really in any of th' primary sources, but a lot of accounts I've found adored her birds. She also sold some of the eggs as well, f'r pretty reasonable amounts at the time-- and it makes for a great cover too. If everyone has pigeons f'r small bird husbandry, it's a lot harder to tell when a pigeon is where it shouldn't be. And pigeons are great birds to use for 'n information network."

He pans the view up at the sky, moving so the moon was visible through the smudged glass and open, empty panels. He lets the camera slowly sweep its way down, to the pillars of the room, to the intricate decor of the walls, and even to the tiling on the floor. "Th' Carvers weren't wealthy, and looked after their own affairs between the both of 'em, as far as I've read. Dalton was a carpenter. The house is large and very specialized, for both his and his wife's work, because he built it himself, from th' ground up. Each intricate piece was hand-carved by Dalton himself. It's pretty amazing t' think about."

"Dalton, my man!" Opal grins, spinning in place at a snail's crawl, to see all the walls one by one. "That's one hell of a work ethic, gettin' this whole place here all spic and span."

Jace chuckles as he films her. "Definitely. They both worked very hard. We should see if we can find his workshop, I would love to see if any of his tools are left."

"Lead the way, sugar~." She gestures like a butler might offer someone an open door, and he lets out a breathy sound before taking point, moving further inside.

[sharkshenanigans2]

literally!!

[of-chaos-and-flame]

My friend who’s still working thru tma: hey how was the new protocol episode-?

Me: hilltop road’s back

My friend: w-what?

Me: *cocks gun* hilltop road’s back and celia Knows something

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

[tennant-the-tigger]

Fruity Four: Haunted House

They thought they could handle it, no problem, considering everything they’ve been through.  

More ST Art (x)

[mooshroomterrarium]

when you drop a tnt minecart on your mom, killing her instantly

[cursed-coat-of-homosexuality]

Okay so uhhh... visions came upon me and this was the result lol

Based on this absolute atrocity (affectionate... kind of)

[ID: A fourteen panel comic done in grayscale based on a Twitter thread from David Jenkins.

First panel: Neil Gaiman is surrounded by a crowd of fans, a bright spotlight is shining on top of him. One of the fans points a microphone in his direction and says "Mr. Gaiman! How would describe season two using only three words?"

Second panel: A close up shot of Neil, he smiles and says "Uhh... I'd say it's quiet, gentle, and romantic". "Romantic" is written in a flourished cursive font. There are little floating red hearts surrounding him.

Third panel: A shot of the crowd of fans saying "Awww" in unison, there are little hearts floating around. They find it adorable.

Fourth panel: A black screen titled "At David Jenkins' Twitter"

Fith panel: David Jenkins is sitting in table far away from the point of view, at the center of the image, a spotlight is shining on top of him. There is a crowd of fans forming a semi-circle around him, they are squished against one another, stoping at the little fence that is surrounding the table . A fan standing near the front says " I LOVE U... three words to describe season 2?"

Sixth panel: A close up shot of David Jenkins, he is sitting with both elbows proped up on the table, supporting his head with his hands. The harsh light is shining in on him, he looks serious and solemn. His head is tilted down but his eyes are looking directly at the camera, the whites of his eyes make a stark contrast against his shadowed figure. He says " Fucking sweet...".

Seventh panel: The shot is arranged in the same way as in fifth panel. David Jenkins is far away, sitting at his table , the fans are surrouding him in a semi-circle. The fan near the front replies "Give us one more word David"

Eight panel: A huge shock wave tilts the crowd back. All lights are out, except for the spotlight shining in on David Jenkins. David's arms are unnaturally elongated in a spider-like way, fiercely gripping the table with both hands.

Ninth panel: David lauches into the crowd. The point of view remains the same, but now his head is extremely close up the camera. He emphatically says "FUCKING"

Tenth panel: The scene is seen from the side, now we can see that David still remains sitting at his table, but his neck is extended in a long unnatural arch. He is directly looking at the fan from before, his head on top of them. The fan still has the microphone poiting in David's direction. A new spotlight is shining in on both of them. David says, "SWEET"

Eleventh panel: A close up shot of the crowd. The camera lies a little ways below David's head, only the bottom of it is visible. We see that the fan with the microphone is crouched and almost completely tilted back. The fan is looking directly at Jenkins. The crowd continues squished together, watching intently with shocked faces. David continues, saying "YOU"

Thirteenth panel: The shot is arranged in the same way as in the previous panel. David continues, saying "SLUTS". The letters are written in an emboldened font. The crowd is completely shocked, but also weirdly flattered, all of them are blushing.

Fourteenth panel: David Jenkins goes back to sitting at his table, in a movement similar to a metal spring coiling up again after being streched out. He is sitting far away from the camera, at the center of the image. The fans forming a semi-circle around him. They continue blushing, with some assorted murmurs of bafflement as in "oh my god", "dude what" and "why". /END ID]

[nercynorning]

You know I had to do it to em

Based on this post

Characters made using this picrew by PotatoLord, clumsily edited by me

Sword made with this picrew by iienex

[sebesun]

Frog

[bookishpedia]

Am I a feminist? Yes.

Would I get on my knees and remove Zade Meadow's belt if asked me to? Also, yes.

[burningvelvet]

my dealer: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called “laudanum-dosed wine at the villa diodati on lake geneva in 1816” 😳 you’ll be zonked out of your gourd 💯

me: yeah whatever i don’t feel shit

5 minutes later: dude i swear i just saw mary shelley and claire clairmont talking about reanimation and vampires with lord byron

my buddy percy pacing: dr. john polidori is plotting against us and my wifes nipples have been replaced by eyeballs

[bilestat]

[chiliger]

Well, crap.

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

[hometoursandotherstuff]

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 107

“Hey uh pal, what you got there…?”

Grundy hummed a rumble, blinking slowly as he turned slightly towards his… what were they… Not an enemy, not a threat… they were… friend! Yes, they were the friend that didn’t mind that whenever he came back he came back different. 

He uncurled his arms slightly, proudly showing his friend what he’d found splashing in the water growling angrily. His friend blinked, mouth opening and closing for a few moments as he waited patiently, careful not to drop the squirming duo. 

“Babies,” he proudly declared as they let out squeaky roars.