this film creeps me out so much

Dan and Phil’s New House! (Map #1)

*puts on my detective glasses* *dragging out my investigation cork board*

Since we’re getting neither a TABINOF-style map nor a house tour, it’s all up to us to map out their new home, so I thought I’d summarise what I could tell from today’s liveshow (the first live show in this house) - especially for the people who didn’t get to see it!

I don’t know if this makes sense to anyone but me - we honestly don’t know much. We didn’t get to see any more than the “TV snug corner”, which is the same corner that this creep shot of Dan was taken, and the rest is mapped by description.

Here are some notes:

  • A room being a “not filming room” does not mean they’re never going to film there or that cameras are forbidden or anything. An example is Dan’s bedroom, which he is not going to film in anymore, but as he mentions, he’ll still film stuff in there if he needs it for a sketch. The upstairs lounge will not be filmed because it’s up the stairs and they are lazy. We’ll still see pictures of it soon, most likely.
  • Phil’s bedroom will look basically the same (and he’s still filming in it), but Dan is totally redesigning his to something he feels represents himself more. It “looks like the moon”. The only things he really kept from his old room are silver, apparently.
  • I don’t know what the room with Dan’s new filming corner is, they didn’t specify what it’s used for except for that. You can see some stuff and furniture through the mystery glass in the liveshow if you want to investigate it yourself. 
  • The gaming video room is originally a bedroom that they’ve just put a desk in. It’s (according to Phil) “about 25% bigger, so we can move the lights around”.
  • “The Hallway Plant” and “The Couch from the Lounge” references their old apartment and where these items were located there. I’m not entirely sure about the plant but it looks like the same one.
  • We have heard no mention of a kitchen or bathroom, so they could be anywhere, and there could be even more rooms.
  • There is apparently plenty of storage closets.
  • Phil introduced the idea of getting a fish in the liveshow. Dan was not ready with a settled answer, but did not seem to be opposed to the idea. He left it up to Phil.
  • “When will you get a dog?” “When a house is bought, I guess”
  • We do not know if they have a garden.

If I missed anything, please tell me, I shall update further when we know more. Evidently, we have to do the job ourselves this time.

Creepypasta #1329: Never Stare Directly At Haunted Pictures Online. You Never Know What Might Happen.

Length: Medium

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE

As you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you. 

With the internet and sites like Reddit nowadays, people get their fill of adrenaline from reading scary stories and sharing paranormal happenings and findings all over the interwebs. A close friend of mine, Steve, was one of those people. Steve was an avid “paranormal” hunter since the age of 16. He loved watching shows like “Ghost Adventures” and what have you. There was just an unparalleled rush from the thought of coming face to face the supernatural and Steve loved to escape into a world where creepy and inexplicable things happened regularly. It was an escape from his everyday mundane school life.

Time and time again, we warned him against going too far, but he never listened.

About a month ago, he told us that he was becoming rather active on a variety of supernatural Reddits. He was really excited about having found a repository of real encounters, and scrolled through posts for hours on end to satisfy his undying thirst for adrenaline. Soon, this interest turned into an obsession of sorts, and he would regularly stay up in the dark at 3am, holed up in his musty attic reading about creepy happenings and viewing unexplained photos and videos. He said that the dark, dreadful environment enhanced his excitement when reading these posts.

As I was a fellow “night-owl”, Steve would usually Skype chat me as he browsed these sites. I guess having some company alleviated some of the fear he had at these unearthly timings.

2 weeks ago, on June 28, Steve was up to his usual practices and I was watching YouTube. That night, everything seemed as per normal until at around 4am, he suddenly messaged me this.

“Hey… I’m looking at this picture of this supposedly extremely haunted picture of a creepy lady apparition standing behind a suicide hanging victim and wow this apparition is freaking me the fuck out man. It feels like its looking straight at me.”

He posted the link to me.

To be honest, I was completely distracted as I was watching a short film and disabled the Skype pop up alerts at that time, so although I saw the Skype chat notification window blinking furiously, I did not open it. The messages continued to flow in rapidly though, much to my annoyance. Suddenly, I received a notification that he had gone offline. Frankly, this was strange, because we had agreed to stay up all night beforehand.

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My Haunted Mansion Holiday Pictures

It’s inevitable that I was going to talk about this ride. And how could I not? It’s amazing, it does justice with constantly referencing the film, and the soundtrack for this ride is so mesmerizing! Not to mention all of the effort put into this by the Disney Imagineers and everyone else who worked on it. It is my personal favorite Disney ride for obvious reasons.

My sister worked for Disney and managed to get me into the Park two times for free within a week. And boy, was that the trip! My family was up right when Disneyland opened, and we hopped on all the rides with little to no lines. I managed to get on the Haunted Mansion Holiday 2-3 times, and I loved each trip. I got these shots of the ride later in the day when a line formed.

I should probably say that, first, everything makes it feel like you’re within Jack’s world. From the darkness of the ride to the music playing in your ears, the Haunted Mansion Holiday does its job on both creeping you out yet fascinating you. I once went on this as a small child and I was so entranced with everything. More than I was with the original Haunted Mansion!

And I’m in the minority when I say this, but I, personally, think that this is better than the original ride. I’ve seen the film and rode The Haunted Mansion, but it’s delivery, to me, was fairly weak compared to the Haunted Mansion Holiday. Jack spiced everything up and all of the decorations intrigued me. The original? Not so much.

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The significance of the painting in WINGS Short Film #1 BEGIN

I’ll admit it. The painting creeped me out so much. But it does have significant meaning as there is an important painting in Demian: The Story of Emil’s Sinclair’s Youth. Here’s a brief summary of the painting’s significance in the novel which will probably help people understand its symbolism in the short film.

  • Emil Sinclair has entered boarding school but does not really fit in, he is teased and then ignored by the other students.
  • At the park, he sees a young woman who he describes as “tall and slender, elegantly dressed, and had an intelligent and boyish face. I liked her at once”. He calls her Beatrice, and she becomes an ideal for him.
  • He never approaches her but instead paints a portrait of her. However, he realises that the painting resembles Max Demian (who is a mentor figure to Sinclair), who he has not seen for a long time.
  • After a while, Sinclair then believes that the painting doesn’t resemble Beatrice of Demian, but himself (“my inner self, my fate or my daemon”).
  • This foreshadows the ending of the novel where Sinclair sees Demian within himself, in the sense that he has learned to question the ideals around him and become his own person. Demian was the one person who helped Sinclair open his eyes to the world, and become independent.
  • Maybe this is why we are having trouble distinguishing who the person in the painting is in BEGIN. Maybe it’s not suppose to be one person.

The Apple | The Painting | Abraxas | Frau Eva

Would love some ff about future Claire remembering her wedding anniversary to Jamie, thanks

——–  

Being back at Lallybroch after all of these years had been an adjustment. Jenny was her usual self, her poor temper reserved solely for me. I’d been content to stay as far away from her as possible, Jamie, as always, had been caught up in any number of Broch Tuarach’s political issues. His ability to lead the men hadn’t dwindled over the years, and even now, when he was no longer Laird, tenants still sought him to ease their burdens. We’d been given the master suite for our stay, the tapestries on the wall unchanged in twenty odd years. The memories came flooding back, those good times in the early days. The potato party, wee Jamie curled up in my lap and Jamie by my side. Days when Jenny wasn’t so cantankerous, when she felt like the sister I’d never had.

My eyes caught the heavy set wardrobe that now stood in the right-hand corner of the room, the only new addition to the furniture. There was something incredibly powerful about it, it’s thick panels decorated with such intricate carvings, they matched the ones that had been added to the posters of the bed. Having gravitated towards it, my hand reached out almost unconsciously, resting gently against the fine knob. The urge to twist and open it was great, but it felt very personal. Electricity buzzed through me, my fingers twitching against the grain.

The scent of stale pine hit me before I even clocked that I’d opened the doors, the darkness clearing to reveal just one item that hung there. It was the leaves that caught my attention first, the image of my first coming into contact with those embroidered patterns flashing before my eyes like an exposed reel of film. My wedding dress, in all of its glory. The off-cream of the skirts still shone like new. It had been well taken care of. I didn’t think I’d changed too much over the years, but my waist had certainly filled out after having Bree. A small part of me envisioned what it would look like, whether I should try it on.

“Ye’d look sae bonnie, Sassenach, and ye ken it well.”

He was adept at creeping up on me, even more so at pulling the very thoughts from my brain. Turning slowly I swivelled towards him, I wished I could close the doors on that day, grateful as I was for the terrible circumstances that had thrown us together, but happy to be where we were now, having weathered those deep dark storms. His eyes shone in the dim light of the room, still as handsome as he ever was, those wondrous blue pools almost glowing in the dim light of the room.

“You know how difficult it was to get me out of it, Jamie. Can you imagine how long it took me to actually get into the damn thing.” I made sure to inject as much humour into my tone as possible, that tiny bit of optimism rearing its head at his suggestion. It had taken almost the entire public house to tug me into the bodice alone, but all at once the idea of reliving that night with the loss of the nervousness seemed awfully appealing.

“Aye, I didna think it was an easy task, but I think we can manage.” I recognised the Fraser stubbornness immediately, once he had an idea it would take a better woman than I to talk him out of it, and I wasn’t all that sure I wanted to.

And now it was pointless to even argue, I could see by the set of his jaw, by the tilt of his head that he’d seen my hesitation. He knew I ached to have him run his fingers along the back of my neck as he had done on our wedding night. This time, however, I wouldn’t pull away. I must have blushed, for his hands reached up, his fingers coming within inches of my cheek before he stopped.

“What; suddenly shy, Mr Fraser?” I couldn’t help but tease him, his impromptu relapse endearing him to me further, something I didn’t think was humanly possibly anymore. He looked just as innocent as he had done that evening, the twinkle in his eyes, the shaky peace he made with himself internally as he determined what he thought I may or may not approve of. He was that twenty-three year old virgin again, desperately in love and eager to please but treading carefully over the various bumps and bruises that stood between him and I.

There was one major difference between then and now, though, now I knew how deeply and irrevocably in love with him I was. I felt myself smile, the flutter of the muscles at the corners of my lips tingling as they rose.

“Ach, shy? Ne’er, Claire. Now, let’s see about getting ye into that dress, aye?”

It had taken us an inordinate amount of time to re-fit the dress, it’s flowing fabrics bunching around my legs and tangling as we tried to get it over my bottom. Eventually we did manage it, the laces a little more let out than they had been before, but it still fit. I stood looking myself over in the full length mirror, Jamie standing behind me the whole time. I could see him battling with himself, his hands itching to touch me where they lay against his sides. I was half enamoured by the vision of myself in the mirror, half captivated by Jamie’s reaction to it. Another memory hit me, the subtle way his mouth dropped open was almost identical to the moment he caught sight of me outside the church, the glimpse of his tongue hiding behind his teeth, aching to moisten his lips but too caught up in his thoughts to actually follow through with the request.

“Did I ever tell ye of lucky I am?”  He was breathless, his words all sort of moulding together as he spoke. He had, of course. How many times I’d lost count. He’d always been the vocal one, especially with matters of the heart. Our wedding night had been no exception, I still remembered the stories well, those of his parents and their runaway shotgun marriage. He was a born storyteller; captivating, charming and magnetic.

“Blood of my blood…” I whispered, the words just flowing, almost as if he’d pulled them from within me.

“Bone of my bone…” He returned, his tone now reverent, remembering as I was those last nervous moments of the ceremony which had been thrust upon us, yet had made for the most perfect coupling. It may have been for convenience and safety, but now it was for love and passion, defying even the laws of time and space.

Lost in my thoughts I hadn’t noticed Jamie move, his lips brushed the back of my neck and, if he had been melting earlier, it was I who was melting now.

“I mean to take my time.” He mumbled between kisses, his hands coming to rest on my waist now, pulling my almost limp form against him. “I didna fully get the chance all those years ago, to worship ye, but tonight I shall.”

“Oh, I think you did well enough, Jamie.” I could have said any number of things after this, but his mouth was making delicious patterns against my heated skin and my mouth to brain function was steadily decreasing. Moans filled the air, and I was slightly embarrassed to realise that they were mine, but that didn’t mean I was about to stop.

The skirts, only just fastened and still warm from his touch, came off first, hitting floor with a very slight poof; dust lifting, disturbed by the fabric. I dipped my head to watch the mass of linen settle, the motes curling around my ankles on the slight draught that had been created. Jamie’s hands were making soothing moves against my shift-covered thighs. Basking in the heat of him I shifted my feet apart, relishing the feel of his rough tartan against my backside.

The ‘slow’ part of the arrangement he reserved for the disentangling of my laces, his usually deft fingers making languid, deliberate sweeps as he undid the small bow at the base of my bodice. The two, now loose, strips of thin rope hung wildly, I could feel the tickle of them directly over my bottom as Jamie ran his nose over the backs of my shoulders. I could feel the tendrils of his hair as he shifted from one side to the other, the elusive scent of apples floating around us. He must have been pressing them in the barn all day, him and Ian knee deep in their whisky and cider stock. A small part of me regretted my self-imposed isolation, I was missing out on all of these little moments, moments I would have been active in before.

“Ach, dinna werrit about anything, Sassenach. I can hear yer mind whirring from here, just focus on this, on me.” He purred, pulling the laces through the first few holes and releasing them once more. I’d forgotten about the mirror facing me, I looked directly into the reflection of his eyes, deep blue and serious as he rested his pointer finger at the base of my spine. One touch, it still only took the one, and my heart calmed and I felt an immediate harmony pass through me. He quirked an eyebrow, humour colouring his features as he watched the muscles relax in mine. “I want to show ye what a wedding night should be like, I didna think I’d ever get a chance to show ye some of these things ever again after the mess o’ Culloden. But I do, and I plan to take full advantage of this gift, aye? I fully intend to gi’ you the wedding night that ye should have had the first time we wed.”

“How gallant of you.” i replied, harking back to that fateful night; words I’d said and meant, probably the most sincere ones from the beginning of our marriage. I tipped my head to the side as his tongue resumed its ministrations against my neck, the delicate contact of his mouth causing ripples of salacity to course through my blood. He always managed to awaken some hidden riot within me, a certain avidity that I had hidden well through our twenty years apart. From the second we’d been reunited that ocean of hushed inactivity had reared up, creating a mass of hysteria that pulsed through me at any given opportunity.

The bodice slipped, exposing more flesh at my chest, my cleavage dipping under the pressure of heavy material. I wanted to be present as he disrobed me, but I didn’t seem to have the wherewithal to keep myself grounded. Electricity, again, the shock of its first oscillation forcing the air from my lungs. He was stroking me with such veneration, the swell of emotion that grew with every button hole emptied of cotton laces nearly overflowing as the hefty corset joined its skirt counterpart in the recesses at my feet.

And as sudden as that I was partially bared to him, his sloth-like movements having given him the time to worship me as he desired, and for me to slip into near coma, my whole self at his mercy. Just as before I was stood, fire sparking in my eyeline, in only a thin slip of fabric. He didn’t need to remove my clothes for me to be naked as I stood by his side, he knew that well, but nudity was preferable at this moment. The glint of passion that burned in us both, mirrored by the flames that simmered and combusted in front of us. I wanted to be consumed by him, I couldn’t take the teasing any longer, and before I could stop myself I turned and took his lips against mine, his mouth opening as we tasted each other.

I hadn’t the presence of mind to recall his hand on my shoulder, pulling me round, or his fingers untying the one knot at the top of my shift and pushing it to the floor. I couldn’t bring myself to focus on anything other than his lips against mine. The heat of our ardor made the room around us so close that I didn’t even notice that he’d completely removed my dress. I couldn’t be the only one in such a state, though, and upon realising this I began to tug at Jamie’s belt. It came away easily enough, flopping to the floor to join the other pile of clothing. His kilt followed in quick succession. I had no scruples, he wished to be slow on principle, but I just wanted to have him bared to me as fast as possible.

I twisted us around and pulled him by his shirt sleeves towards the large double bed, its silken coverlet already swept aside ready for sleep. But it wasn’t sleep I was interested in now, far from it. My legs hit the mattress first and I sat, my legs slightly parted in invitation, my hands resting on the thin base sheet, its soft puffs of cotton smooth under my palms.

“Take off your shirt, I want to look at you.” He blushed, the sight of it sending bolts of a carnal desire through every inch of me, intensifying the ache between my thighs.

“Aye, fair’s fair.” He returned, carefully tugging his shirt off and over his head. Every part of him screamed eroticism; his sculpted thighs, the bulk of his shoulders, the muscular slant of his arms. I wanted to simply lie back and take him in, but a very strong part of me wouldn’t allow it. I shimmied myself back, still keeping him in view as I leant back on my elbows.

It wasn’t usual for him to wake me before he went off to attend to his chores, but after our evening he thought it proper to at least say his goodbyes.

“Thank you, Jamie. I love that you took such good care of the dress, even knowing you might never see me again. It must have been incredibly difficult for you.”

“It wasna me, Claire. As much as I would have, I was in the cave and then Ardsmuir. It was Jenny. It wa’ left in the chest Mrs Fitz sent across from Leoch that time, she found it and she took care of it.”

He saw the light leave my eyes, my smile dimming at the mention of his sister. He knew the issues I’d been having with her, and it wasn’t that I’d lost appreciation for the effort she’d gone through just because we’d still not eased our woes with each other; well, her woes with me. But it was just another addition to laundry list of quibbles Jenny Murray had with me.

“I ken she’s made her distaste known, Claire, but she missed ye just as much as any of us. She’s trying, in her own way, to deal wi’ Ian’s bad health as well as her bairns and to no’ be too much of a grump wi’ ye. Dinna hide yerself awa’, aye? Go and speak to her.”

“Break down the wall she’s forced between us, you mean?” I tried to keep my tone neutral, but I could tell by the side-eye he gave me that I’d failed. She had wanted me to perform tasks I wasn’t capable of, I would save Ian had I been able, but I wasn’t the witch she thought I was. “If only you hadn’t toted around the idea of ‘La Dame Blanche’, Jamie, she mightn’t hold me to such an ideal.” I wasn’t mad at him, though. He’d done that to save us all, and for a time it had served its purpose.

He kissed my forehead, took my hands and brushed his lips against them also and then turned to leave. I couldn’t help but feel at a loss; when he disappeared off for the day I was alone, lonely. But he was right, and he knew it. I couldn’t hide myself away, I couldn’t give Jenny the satisfaction. “Ha’ a good day, Sassenach. If ye decide to venture out, come and find me.” With that he left, a flurry of kilt and man. The door clicked shut, leaving behind the faint scent of him.

Not wanting to cause Jenny any more reason to gripe at me I dragged myself out of bed, my legs aching in the most delightful way as I bent to collect my wedding dress off the floor. Folding the skirts as she had, I placed it carefully back into the ornate wardrobe, leaving it just as I’d found it. Bathing quickly afterwards, I found my off-blue day dress and got myself ready, it was about time I shook off the hermit I’d turned into and listened to Jamie. He’d never let me live it down, but his words made sense.

Gazing out of the large north facing window I found my erstwhile sister-in-law washing the sheets, her arms speckled with foamy water as she dragged the large fabric over the washboard. Now was as good a time as any, I sighed, trying to come up with an excuse not to follow through and failing. Jamie asking me to come and find him had been a request, he wouldn’t be expecting me, I tried to tell myself, but I was unconvincing even to myself. He’d said it as an inducement, enticing me with the prospect of lunch, outside, with him. Instead of only seeing him during the dusk hours. I smiled as I propelled myself out of the laird’s room and downstairs, finally.

The day was warm, the sun just peeking through the clouds to heat the dry earth of Lallybroch’s courtyard. Jenny had her back to me, facing the arch as she always did on washday, a habit I’m sure she’d picked up after Jamie was taken the first time. Something she’d never found the need to change, especially with Jamie’s flighty and somewhat capricious nature. A very wise move, even if I did say so myself.

“Jenny, I…” my mouth dried completely, my words sounding high-pitched and a little bit intense as I tried to calm myself. I watched as Jenny straightened her spine, I recognised the tense set of her bones, as if she were planning to go into battle rather than have a conversation with a family member. “I just wanted to say thank you, for keeping my wedding dress in such wonderful condition. I found it,” she hadn’t yet turned, but her head had tilted towards me, a positive step, “and I couldn’t let it go by without saying how grateful I am for its grand condition.” I held my breath, I’d taken a step, if it all went downhill at least I’d made a move.

“Weel, I didna…” she began, as if she meant to brush it off, but obviously Jamie had spoken to her also, clever lad. Either way, I would not be placated. “It would ha’ been a terrible shame for it to end up as moth feed, wi’ holes and the like.” She finally conceded, continuing on with her chores. Her shoulders retained their stubborn set, but she’d lost some of the brusqueness that laced her tone. She was mellowing.

“Yes, it would. I know it meant a lot to Jamie, and when I came across it, well, it meant a lot to me, too.”

“Aye, then I’m glad ye saw it. There’s a lunch for ye to take to the boys, it’s sat in the kitchen. They’re out just in the treeline to the west, in the whisky store wee Jamie built for them.”

I took that as my cue to leave as she began to wash once more, with added zeal. I turned, a small smile on my face, the ice finally broken between the two of us. We might never be the same as we once were, but I was happy to just be on pleasant speaking terms; for the moment. At least it would make our stay here more agreeable. I turned on my heel, my hand catching the wooden doorway as I made to collect the picnic when Jenny spoke again.

“That wardrobe, the one ye found the dress in?”

“Yes?” I added, casually.

“We had it made for ye, and for Jamie to remember ye by. The engravings, did ye happen to look at them?” Her voice was kinder now, a friendly note worming its way in.

That took me aback, I hadn’t taken a closer look after I’d discovered what lay beyond. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t.”

“It’s carved wi’ suns and candles. Wi’ anything that signified light. Ye ken the meaning of yer name in Scots is Sorcha, aye?” She took a breath, but didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s fer that reason. Whatever is between us now, I always wanted to keep a wee bit o’ ye in Lallybroch. Especially in that room.”

I was speechless, I wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. The tears did, however, gathering in my eyes but not falling, yet.

“Dinna forget the whisky besides the basket, Jamie willna forgive ye if he doesna have a fresh dram waiting.” She finished, relieving me of the duty of final words. I wiped my eyes as I wandered back into the house, a fresh wave of emotion bubbling within me as I grabbed the pre-prepared lunch and set off to find Jamie.  

“Do It For the Vine Video”
Summary: In which Soul and Maka are YouTubers and make an extremely bad decision for the sake of a video. Hilarity ensues.
Pseudo-sequel to this fic I wrote a couple weeks ago. (Nah, you don’t have to read it to understand this one, but it’ll probably help.)

The worst thing about dating her best friend, Maka thought, was that he always knew how to get what he wanted.

Soul had figured out a system. He’d ask to copy her math homework while nuzzling the sensitive hollow where her neck met her shoulder, nibbling at it until she wasn’t even sure what she was agreeing to anymore. He knew when she was in a good mood based on trivialities, tiny quirks in her expression. He knew she was lousy in the morning until she’d ingested enough caffeine to kill some small animals. He knew not to bother her while she was editing a video, because the software made her cranky.

(She knew him, too, inside and out, and she wasn’t afraid to use that knowledge either, but it was still an irksome concept. She couldn’t figure out whether it made their relationship easier or more complicated.)

“Come on, Maka. Please?”

Right now, Soul had opted for the overly-affectionate plan of attack. They were walking home from school, their hands clasped between them, and he kept rubbing his thumb on her skin in slow circles.

The feeling was heady, and distracting, and made her want to hit him with her bio textbook.

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