your bright eyes are going to kill me for sure

actuallyaghostthanks  asked:

Do you guys have any podcast recs?? I love the Penbumbra Podcast, the Bright Sessions and The Adventure Zone but wait for episodes to come out os killing me :,,(

Hello @actuallyaghostthanks, first of all, you have an amazing taste in podcasts!! I must admit, I wasn’t really sure in what direction to go for my recommendations, based on these three podcasts. Do you like podcasts with a good LGTBTQ+ representation? Or a paranormal mystery? Or a bit more Sci-Fi?

So I guess I’ll just put a bit of all of this into your recommendation list. Also you should check out this list for more podcasts with an LGBTQ+ cast (and keep your eyes open, I’m currently working on a part 2) this one for spooky podcasts, and these for horror if that’s your thing)


And here are some more podcasts I’m pretty sure you’ll enjoy:

ars PARADOXICA:

While I must admit that I had to give up on the podcast (for various reasons), I still highly recommend it. It has Sci-Fi, time travel, parallel universes (I think?), and an amazing lead character

Big Data:

One of my favourite podcasts by far! The only reason I haven’t posted a review yet is that all my thoughts about it are way too long. It uses all the tropes and cliches of the Investigative Journalism genre, and turns them into a hilarious, diverse, and thrilling story. It starts off great and becomes more amazing with each episode

EOS 10:

The adventures of a doctor on Space Station EOS 10. There is political conspiracies, medical emergencies, and a dangerous fugitive hiding in the space station. Also, sentient christmas trees!

Return Home:

This podcast is not the type of podcast you think it is after the first one or two episodes. I’m not saying it gets better, I’m not saying it gets worse. I’m just saying that you might expect Twin Peaks or Silent Hill, and you get … were-bunnies, a bizarre city council election, and one of the main characters dating the Devil. While Return Home sure does have it’s serious and dark moments, it’s way more fun than the first episodes make it seem to be. Can’t wait for the new season!

The Black Tapes / TANIS:

When Big Data uses tropes and cliches of the Investigative Journalism genre and turns it into something hilarious, The Black Tapes (find our review here) and its spin-off TANIS simply use these tropes. I enjoy this type of narration a lot, and binge listened to the first seasons of both shows within a few days. While I do think the quality dropped a bit as the stories progressed, I still highly recommend both The Black Tapes (with a focus on the paranormal and occult) and TANIS (with a focus on … creepy pasta and internet conspiracies). It should also be said that I’m not the biggest fan of the people behind the podcasts …

The Monster Hunters:

I must admit I’m only a few episodes in, but I enjoy the mix of horror and comedy: “The Year: 1971AD. The Place: The City of Swinging London. The Mission: To Destroy all Monsters.” Also I love that it’s a bit of a different setting from all the other podcasts. You should definitely give it a try.

The Strange Case of Starship Iris:

A Sci-Fi drama that’s only one episode old! So it’s still too soon to say much about it, but I liked the first episode a lot, it’s well written, well acted, and I’m excited to find out what happens next. All in all a very promising start!

The Behemoth:

This one is quite different from most other podcasts I’ve recommended so far. It’s the story of a young girl who follows a mysterious giant who suddenly appears from the ocean and walks across the US. It’s an odd one, this podcast, but captivating, and a very unique experience. I’m not sure if it’s for everyone, but I sure did enjoy it!


I hope you’ll find something you like! Also, feel free to scroll through our tags to find more specific podcasts!

Lizz

3

Day 18

Imagine Meeting Sherlock Holmes

Part 1

For My Followers

Screaming.

Begging.

Gunshots.

Blood, so much blood.

And then darkness.

~~~

“Sherlock can I ask why we are investigating this case? It’s not as exciting as the ones you usually go after,” John mutters as he flips through the case file. Sherlock is facing the wall and standing utterly still. “It’s clear cut, the father killed everyone in the family.”

“Yes but the daughter survived,” Sherlock remarks.

“But he thought she had died so there’s nothing special there,” John counters making Sherlock spin around and face him.

“He didn’t, he knew she was still alive. Tell me John what’s the motive for killing everyone except his daughter?” Sherlock demands and John frowns.

“I’m not sure.”

“Exactly! This isn’t just any middle aged man going crazy this is different. I have to solve it.”

~~~

Bright lights.

Repetitive beeping.

Bleach smell.

Aching soreness.

Hospital.

Opening your eyes you flinch at the bright lights before examine your surroundings.

You’re in a hospital that’s for sure.

You barely remember what happened.

Your parents were fighting upstairs. Johnny was crying in his crib.

And then gunshots. Before you could react your father was standing in your doorway holding a smoking gun.

And then nothing.

Sitting up slowly you push yourself back against the pillows. Your torso is throbbing. Looking down you see your stomach all wrapped up under the hospital gown. Your father shot you there.

“Miss?” the chipper voice makes you jolt in surprise. It’s a nurse standing in the doorway wearing a sympathetic smile. “I see you’ve awoke. Are you okay? Feeling any pain? Need anything?”

“No just water,” you rasp. The nurse cheerfully pours you a cup from the pitcher beside your bed that you hadn’t noticed. You take long gulps until your throws doesn’t feel so dry.

“Anything else honey?”

“No, which hospital is this? How did I get here? Also what happened? I don’t remember much,” you ramble and the nurse frowns.

“I better let the detectives talk to you,” she murmurs and bustles out before you can say anything else.

Three men quickly replace her. Two you recognize from the papers as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

“Hello Miss Morten I am Greg Lestrade I w-”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m Sherlock Holmes and I will be solving your case,” the brunette man interjects and sits down next to your bed. John rolls his eyes and Greg only huffs.

“What case? Where is my family? I saw my dad had a gun, did he kill them all?” you question. You fear the answer.

“Yes he did, my condolences. We need to ask you a few questions but they can wait if you don’t feel up to it,” Greg says and you smile graciously.

“Nonsense there is no time to waste. Now (Y/N) Morten tell me about that night,” Sherlock demands and you raise an eyebrow.

“I will only because I want to know why dad killed my family and I know you can figure it out. The night he went crazy mom and dad were arguing upstairs. I think they were fighting about a favor they did for a powerful man awhile ago-”

“What favor? What man?” John asks.

“I didn’t hear much but I did hear that this man has been having them care for something important to him. They were fighting because the man was angry. My mother did something to anger him and my father was worried the man was going to do something to us. Next thing I heard was a gunshot and my mother screaming.”

“Can you tell us what happened when your father came downstairs?” Greg prompts and you nod. For some reason you don’t feel so awful, maybe you’re still in shock.

“I got out of bed to go call the police but my dad was in my doorway. It was dark and for some reason he looked smaller to me. Before I could even scream he shot me. Things get blurry after that but I’m sure I heard him apologize to me. His voice sounded higher though.”

“So maybe your father didn’t do this? Of course! Another person did! I knew the gunshot your father had in his head wasn’t consistent with suicide,” Sherlock exclaims and jumps to his feet.

“I’m sorry he seems excited about the death of your family,” John murmurs to you.

“It’s okay, I’ve read about you two I get it,” you reply. “So Sherlock of my father didn’t kill my family who did?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out,” he vows and then quickly breezes by. John follows after but Greg stays.

“I do need an official statement before I let you rest,” Greg grumbles and pulls out a notebook.

You give him his statement and then the nurse gives you more pain drugs which knock you right out.

~~~

Sherlock examined your whole family and found nothing out of the ordinary. He couldn’t track down this powerful man and he couldn’t find what the man asked your parents to do.

“Isn’t odd how (Y/N) looks so different from her family,” John muses absentmindedly. Sherlock’s eyes snap open and stare at John. “I mean they are all fair-haired, plump, large-nosed, short people but she is a dark-haired, thin, button-nosed, tall individual. They look nothing alike.”

Sherlock chuckles and John stares at him weirdly.

“What?”

“Don’t you get it? The favor her parents were doing! The man asked them to adopt his child to keep her safe. That’s why she doesn’t look like them.”

“How do you know she isn’t biologically theirs? That still leaves the question of why her family was killed.”

“We can get the DNA proved shortly but we need to talk to (Y/N) more about what she heard.”

~~~

“You want to know how my parents treated me?” you snort. Sherlock however keeps a very serious expression. “My Mom and dad were kind and sweet.”

“So they were perfect parents?” Sherlock asks.

“Well no, no parents are perfect. They were pretty damn close though.”

“Has anything happened recently that would put their parenting skills to the test?” John rephrases.

“Well two weeks before the-incident my mom and I were in a car accident. She didn’t see someone coming and the side of the car was rammed. My window shattered and I was cut all over but other than that we were both fine.”

“Exactly,” Sherlock murmurs and rushes out. John nods at you before take his leave as well.

You shake your head at the detectives and turn your attention to a card that was left on your table while you slept.

It reads: ‘get well soon.’ At the bottom it’s signed JM.

“Wonder who that is,” you utter to yourself and set he card back.

JM

Klaus Mikaelson - You're A Monster

This is my first one so I’m really hoping you like it :)

“Hey love.” A voice rang out. You rolled your eyes, not bothering to turn around. You hated Klaus, you really really hated Klaus. Between your Aunt Jenna and Carol Lockwood, not to mention 12 hybrids and countless others, you saw that he was, in fact, a monster.

“Can I help you?” You asked, fingers drumming on the desk. You went to an empty classroom to be alone, away from, your sister, Elena’s vampire boyfriend drama, not to be stalked by an original. “No, Y/N, I just thought I’d spend some quality time with you.” He smirked. You looked up at him with a dry stare. Sure, he was attractive with his bright eyes and mischievous smile and killer accent. But that was it, wasn’t it? He’s a killer. Always has been, always will be.

“Then that’ll be me leaving.” You said shortly, standing up to go. “Why is it, little human, that you hate me so much?” He asked, blocking your way. “Are you being serious?” He raised his eyebrow is response. “You killed my aunt. You want to drain my sister and kill my brother. You’ve hurt her stupid boyfriend and my friends more times than I can count and you’re asking me why I hate you.”

There was a silence, his eyes narrowing. Even you could hear your heart beat erratically in your chest. He stepped forwards, hand running across the desks next to you.

“That’s why you should hate me, Y/N. But why do you hate me really?”

He smiled though his eyes were serious. Brushing your hair out of your face, you stood up, swinging your bag on your back. He stepped forward again and you wanted to run, away from the hybrid, but your feet were glued in place. “Is it because I make you nervous, Y/N?” His smirk dropped, replaced by a patient stare. You swallowed, resisting the urge to bite your lip. “Look, Klaus. I have better things to do than have this conversation some thousand year old toddler with abandonment issues, okay?” You went to step around him, towards the wall. He sped in front of you, effectively stopping you, his one hand blocking the way, the other centimetres from your face.

“Does it make you nervous when I do this?” He breathed, stroking your face with his fingertips.

“What about this?”

He leaned closer, his breath fanning your face. You willed yourself to move, to shout and insult him. But, you couldn’t. Your hand tightly gripped the strap of your bag and though you wanted to look away, your eyes stared into his.

“How about now, Y/N?”

His mouth hovered slightly above your neck, his hand supporting the back of it. He could see your neck move with every breath, every beat of your heart.

And then he pulled away, smirking at your laboured breaths and wild eyes. Your lips were parted and even he couldn’t deny the desire to bend down and touch them to his own.

“I think you’re a monster.” You whispered, eyes not leaving his, not even as what looked to be hurt flashed through them. “But-” you swallowed again, looking down and turning your head slightly. “I don’t think you’re passed saving.”

His eyes met yours, surprise leaking through every feature on his face. “Is that right, love?” His breathy voice asked. You exhaled slowly, reaching up to touch his cheek. His eyes didn’t leave your hand even as you spoke. “Anything that is capable of love, is capable of being saved.”

Without hesitation, his lips were on yours, your bag forgotten as his hands wove into your hair, yours wrapping around his neck.

Baskets of Alcohol

Platonic Steve x Reader x Bucky (my supersoldier roommate series)

thank you to the anon who gave me the idea for this :D and to the other anon who gave me the other idea, yours is up next :)

For the roommate series, some snooty neighbor convinces the apartment owner to ban all alcohol in the building. Steve and Bucky and (Y/N) figure out ridiculous ways to sneak in alcohol. Idk it might be dumb. I’m sorry sweetheart

A/N: someone pointed out that I messed up Steve and Buckys characterization and that made me a lil bit self conscious so this prolly isnt gonna be my best work

Originally posted by thewinterbeefcake

“Is this some sort of sick joke?” Bucky exclaimed, squinting at the piece of paper taped onto the entrance of your apartment building.

“Someone’s gonna fuckin’ die.” You announced, whipping your head around and looking around outside.

“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.” Steve proposed, trying to be the voice of reason.

You gave him a bewildered look before looking back at the sign. The white paper was bright against the sun, nearly burning your eyes, but you could still read the thick black letters clearly:

ALCOHOL NO LONGER PERMITTED

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anonymous asked:

Can I ask for a Vampire Michael AU???

Michael Clifford had his humanity stripped from him in the 1960s. Loud music, loud clothes, and loud hair. That’s what he grew up with, and that’s what he loved. Even now, in 2015, he had bright rainbow coloured hair that stuck up in all directions (”You’re lucky it’s not a goddamn mullet, man, those are dope.”) and made his pale skin look almost transparent. But, even brighter than his hair, was the colour his eyes flashed, from blue to a dark crimson, whenever he was angry. They were dark and cold, like a night in the middle of winter (Which was his least favourite time to hunt - “It’s like eating a frozen microwave meal without microwaving it.”) and, when you looked directly into them, made you feel as if all the light had gone from the world.

Michael was known as the weird guy in college. He didn’t like being outside on sunny days (Which you couldn’t blame him for - his skin looked like it’d get sunburnt in minus ten degrees), he never drew attention to himself in class, and he only had three friends; all of which were just as pale and withdrawn as he was. They frightened everyone that came too close with just a look, and anyone that pissed them off - even just by bumping them in the halls - would suddenly disappear, never to be seen on campus again.

It was a particularly cloudy day and you were late for class, almost jogging through the halls to avoid being glared at by your professor. You weren’t paying a whole lot of attention so it wasn’t a huge surprise when you collided with something. What was a surprise, however, was finding out that it was a person. “God, are you made of bricks?” You rubbed your arm in the place it had hit the human embodiment of a brick wall. Calum Hood didn’t look very amused. His eyes were usually dark brown, but today, as you watched, they flashed a subtle red in the dull light. “Hey, you’re one of those–” You had been about to say weird guys but thought better of it at the look he was giving you. “Never mind.”

He didn’t answer. After a few moments of silence he finally spoke. “Walk with me.”

“Excuse me?”

He grabbed your arm and, with more strength than you’d been expecting, steered you in the opposite direction from which you’d been going.

“I have a class–”

“Not anymore you don’t.”

Totally perplexed, you didn’t have a whole lot of luck trying to pull away from the vice-like grip he had on your bicep. You wanted to argue, you really did, but there was something about the way he held your gaze even while he was walking that caught your attention - in fact, it almost felt like you were under a spell. “Where are we going?”

“To the woods.”

“Why the fuck are you taking me to the woods? I’m not gonna hook up with you if that’s what you’re–”

“Jesus Christ, would you stop talking?”

If someone asked you later why you did as you were asked you couldn’t have told them. As soon as the words left his lips it was as though you physically could no longer talk. What was it about this guy? The woods weren’t a long way away from campus and, at the pace Calum was forcing you to march at, it took you less than five minutes to get there.

“What are we doing out here?”

Calum smiled at you. His teeth were on full display, only they weren’t normal teeth anymore. Were those fangs? You had half a second to contemplate what was happening before your eyes before he had you pinned up against a tree. He ran his nose from the base of your neck to your chin, breathing in deeply. “You smell delicious.”

You closed your eyes out of complete terror but then the pressure at your shoulders was gone as he was ripped away from you and you fell to the dirt, your chest heaving. There were voices, more than just Calum now, but there seemed to be a loud roaring in your ears and you couldn’t hear a word they were saying. You felt like you were going to be sick.

And then someone was helping you to your feet asking, “Are you alright?”

You shakily held onto the person’s arms to stop yourself from falling right back down again. “Dunno,” was all you could get out. You did, however, manage to raise your eyes to look into the face of your apparent saviour - into the face of Michael Clifford.

“Sorry about my friend over there. He can get a bit…”

“Psycho?”

“I was gonna say dramatic. Let’s go with dramatic.”

Taking a deep breath, you let go of him. “I have a question.”

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Go on.”

“What the fuck was that? I don’t know if you think I’m blind, but I’m one hundred percent sure that Calum “Psychopath” Hood could have killed me just now.”

Michael’s jaw clenched and you immediately wished that you hadn’t brought it up. “This is probably a good time to let you know,” he took a step forward, forcing your back up against the tree again, and the next time he blinked his eyes seemed to shimmer from bright blue to deep red, “that I could kill you too.

-

These aren’t even blurbs anymore, they’re like entire fan fiction chapters, but I’m actually really proud of this one. I might do a full-length Vampire!5SOS fic one of these days because it’s a total weakness of mine

[OT5; PG-13] Not So Super (But Close Enough)

onew-centric, super au >> 1,156 words

It wasn’t Jinki’s intention to get dragged into something like this.

All he’d ever wanted was the simple, easy life he’d planned since middle school–graduate college with a degree in music, take over his father’s meat shop, and then care for his parents in their old age once he was married and had children of his own. He honestly never wanted anyone to find out about the existance of his powers, let alone become leader of the next super hero troupe put together by the SM Corp (Superhuman Management Corporation). And yet.

But even with the way everything turned out (as in, not at all as planned), he couldn’t say he didn’t love it.

“Hyung,” Taemin’s voice yelled from somewhere in Jinki’s bedroom, startling him awake.

No wait, erase that–Jinki hated it. He hated everything about being a superhero.

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