#stationary chuck

[smashwolfen]

Audhhfkfkdhrkfjdjs the con was small but very fun! Was hella nervous being out even with my small amount of dressing up, but a lot of people complimented my mask and my diamond clan sweater(even the strangers on the street well after we left the venue!) and they loved seeing the plushies poking out of my bag matching my mask I HAD A LOT OF FUN AND FEEL LIKE I COULD TOTALLY DO IT AGAIN ELSEWHERES!!!! Once I build up funds to go of course XD

I didnt spend too too much while there but got some fun lil things!

I dunno how bud did it but those are wood burned/pressed(?) versions of the pokemon cards, and they were worried doing a random trainer was a bad idea, little did they know ADAMAN WAS THE BEST CHOICE FOR ME PERSONALLY!! Snagged 2 offical pokemon pins because of course, a lil 3D printed fidget spider friend, and a Vivian sticker! My buddy I went with was very much a confidence booster im so glad i went!

OH AND ALSO WHILE WE WERE OUT THIS FINALLY ARRIVED IN THE MAIL!!!!!

Its actually pretty hefty for the size BUT YEAH BUDDY I GOT AN OFFICAL HISUIAN POKEBALL REPLICA BABEYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! THE PLA COLLECTION GROWSSS!!!!!!!

The sweater was made by @cecilioque god thank you so much for making such a perfect sweater to wear to a first con!!!! Nintendo wishes they did it before you ;w;

[nostalgiahime]

Chuck E. Cheese Stickers (2010) [✩]

[jewishsuperfam]

very funny kid grammar moment where my niece, telling a story about her stuffed animal she’s dressing up, says “and this can be a gun he shoots enemies at”

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

Hot take maybe but I think Bertie would be FAR more likely to survive the first two months of Dracula than Jeeves would be. Bertie has a healthy sense of self-preservation. Jeeves consistently underestimates how dangerous a situation might get (Steeple Bumpleigh, the club book) because he’s overconfident about his level of control over any given situation. He'd handle Dracula masterfully if they faced off in England, but on Dracula's home turf? Much more doubtful.

I realize this might be a tough sell, so I will explain further (or it's not a tough sell, and I'm going to explain further because I want to). (criteria taken from @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula) Without further ado.

Would Jeeves and Wooster survive Castle Dracula?

Jeeves

Jeeves' survival will depend on how long Dracula finds him more entertaining than irritating. On that basis, I don't think he's long for this world. On the one hand, he has a huge wealth of knowledge about English society and culture that he can recite perfectly from memory. That should buy him at least a little time with noted teaboo Dracula.

On the other hand, he would be absolutely no fun as a vampire plaything. Jeeves cannot be got. Sneaking up on him while he's shaving will yield zero reaction (though that's at least good for his short-term survival--given that, although he DID take the crucifix from the old woman out of politeness, he certainly isn't going to wear it. The rules of fashion don't go out the window just because you're in a spooky castle). Then, although managing the whims of rich jerks is not an insignificant part of a valet's job, Jeeves usually does this by bending his employers to his will. Dracula is not the sort of employer this will work on. It'll just add insult to injury when on top of being impossible to scare, NOW Jeeves is telling Dracula that his favorite cloak is several centuries out of fashion and he's not allowed to wear it anymore.

Jeeves will 100% go exploring in the areas he was told not to go-- though to be fair, he MIGHT actually get away with this, what with his superpower of appearing in rooms without being seen or heard. Said superpower might save him from the brides as well (though this is by no means guaranteed). Since I find it doubtful that Dracula would come to rescue his annoying ass, not being noticed is his best defense.

There are a couple other things working in Jeeves's favor; the question is just whether they'll be enough to save him.

He DOES know shorthand, and could try to send coded letters. He might even have the foresight to squirrel away some extra stationary where Dracula can't find it. But could he get them posted? Would it even do him any good?

He certainly has enough cultural literacy to figure out what his new boss is pretty quickly. If he didn't chuck the crucifix out the carriage window, he might start carrying it around in his pocket.

Psychology of the individual, sure, but the individual in question is a 400-year-old vampire who lives in an isolated castle in a foreign country and is regarded as a terrifying mythological figure in the surrounding villages. Jeeves has never come up against anything this alien before, he's cut off from his normal resources, and opportunities to play people against each other are limited.

He probably has enough upper body strength from all that shrimping and fishing to climb the wall, so he COULD escape if he wanted to, if he survived long enough. It's just, again, that overconfidence, and also Dracula has a vast library full of rare old books that are entirely at his disposal. He's keeping his eyes and ears alert for potential escape strategies, of course, but I don't see him being as desperate to get out as Jonathan was.

There are just a lot of "depends on"s here, and I'm not convinced that luck would shake out in Jeeves's favor, all things considered.

Bertie

Bertie is so perfect for the job of Castle Dracula Prisoner it's like it was made for him. Think about it. Being held against his will in big manor houses comes more naturally to him than breathing. He's afraid of things that are scary. A lifetime of dealing with Aunt Agatha has made him the world's preeminent expert in "curl[ing] up in a ball in the hope that a meek subservience [will] enable [him] to get off lightly." He will NEVER go exploring in places he's been warned away from if nobody is forcing him to (Rev. Aubrey Upjohn's office notwithstanding. There were biscuits in there). He's both fun to talk to and easy to toy with (and extremely English). A+ prisoner. Dracula adores him.

In my opinion, Bertie is at Castle Dracula either because Aunt Agatha got some wires seriously crossed and thinks he’s going to meet an eligible potential bride (I mean, there are certainly brides there), or because Dracula has something Aunt Dahlia wants him to steal (far less likely, given that one of Dracula’s THINGS is famously not owning anything silver). Either way, he's shown himself entirely willing and able to escape down drainpipes if a sitch gets too scaly.

He DOES take the crucifix, and DOES wear it (which is what will save him during the shaving scene, because you KNOW he's going to jump a foot and cut himself like the dickens). He's read enough supernatural goosefleshers to be genre savvy about terrified old women cryptically pushing crucifixes into one's hands. I also think his sunny disposish endeared him to the villagers, and they were particularly vehement about urging him not to go. He doesn't speak German or Romanian, but he's empathetic enough to recognize Pure Terror. So by the time he actually gets to the castle, his imagination is already running wild and he's plenty aware that he is in imminent danger.

I think the biggest risk to Bertie will be the brides; whether or not he's susceptible to trances, if he thinks they're trying to marry him, it's against the code of the Woosters to turn them down. But that only becomes an issue if he comes face to face with them, which, luckily, I think is unlikely on account of the aforementioned "won't go exploring" (and if he did, Dracula would definitely rescue him).

I'm inclined to say due to his drainpipe-escape habits that he WOULD be able to climb the wall and MAY attempt to sneak into Dracula's room to look for the keys if his desperation grows to outweigh his fear. Whether he does or not, though, he does NOT have the stomach to attempt shovel murder, and therefore won't get magic brain fever, and may very well simply walk out the front doors when the people come to take the boxes away. OR he climbs his way out like Jonathan did. Either way.

When Bertie tells this story at the Drones later, Tuppy will say that no doubt it's been greatly exaggerated and all that probably happened was that he spent a couple months in an oldish house entertaining a weird loner.

[purerae]

╭────༺♡༻────╮

YANDERE!PERV X FEM!READER // PT1

warnings ;; nsfw themes, creepy behaviour, overall yandere themes

╰────༺♡༻────╯

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who didn’t really believe in love at first sight. ‘People were horrible and mean, loves not real at all!’

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who immediately disregards his previous statement the moment he saw you, his ears perking up at the sound of your voice speaking to your fellow classmates.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who’s enamoured with you the first time you ran into the lecture hall, hair messed up, books all jumbled and bag almost falling off. You looked so perfect and sweet!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who watches you so intently as you work, he stares at you as if he’s an eagle. Everyone notices him staring at you and thinks he’s a perverted freak, but you don’t pay any mind to it. That must mean you think he’s okay!? that must mean you like him..<3

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who doesn’t even have a conversation with you for months but just practically eye-fucks you. He remembers all your outfits and if you ever rewore them. Your favourite sweater, which he wants to steal so he can do god knows what to it.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who almost whimpers when you sit next to him, He secretly thanks the person who stole your self assigned seat.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who’s eyes widen as he realises he’s going to have to speak to you. shit shit shit what should he do?!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who after 30 long minutes, has the courage to shyly ask for a pen. quickly hiding his stationary; he stutters, pauses, and whispers the 7 words. It’s practically impossible to understand him. “d..do you have…a p..pen that i can borrow..?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who almost combusts when you give him a polite grin, saying ‘of course!’ and lending him a pen before focusing back on your work. To you it was a conversation you don’t think twice about, for him? It made his entire month.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who can’t even focus on his work as he notices the bite marks on top of your pen. your lips and teeth touched the lid…his slender fingers slowly brush the bite marks, hands quivering with delight. Even a streak of blood couldn’t compare to how red he was. He’s keeping this pen no matter what.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who gasps in relief when you leave forgetting to ask for your pen back, he quickly puts it in his bag and beams happily all the way back to his flat. The happiest he’s been in years!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who places the stolen pen on his night desk, and kisses the top of it every night like a routine. ‘I’m practically kissing her~!’

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who slowly collects the things you accidentally leave behind. Half drunk water bottle? His. A tissue you used when it was getting a bit cold? In his pocket like it’s his hankerchief. A core of an apple you chucked into the trash can before walking into the class? Treats it like it’s Gods gift

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who built a mini shrine of your belongings at the back of his closet. His harmless little secret, no body, especially you needs to know.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who loves you so so so much! he’d do anything for you! ..even if you guys have only ever spoken once or twice.

“Mmm hey! Can you help me with this question…?”

purerae<3

[chocochipsushi]

𝐎𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬!

SFW

🌸Word count: 713 words

🌸AU: Toji x clumsy bimbo reader (part 2)

🌸A/N: I got inspiration for this scenario from tiktok (again lol) and thought it was so cute I needed to write it out.

<< Part 1

You are walking towards the workshop where you see Toji towering over a timid-looking man staring up at him. Your lips stretch into a wide grin as your hold on the strings of some helium balloons tighten in excitement. 

It is Toji’s birthday and you bought a present and a bunch of balloons to surprise him with. You wonder if he will like them. He decorated your room filled with pink and red balloons on your birthday this year so you wanted to do the same for him, but with black and white balloons since those are pretty much the only colours he wears. 

You see the man he is talking to flinch and cower when Toji reaches out to tap his cheek scarily, almost condescendingly. Deciding that this would be the best time to announce your presence, you prepare yourself as you adjust the black box under your arm and the balloons in your hand. 

Except, when you were rearranging the balloons in your hand, the gift box slips so you try to clamp your arm down on it. In the midst of doing so, your fingers loosen around the strings and the helium balloons are carried away by the wind. 

You stand there in shock for a second, just staring at the floating balloons before trying to jump and catch them fruitlessly. Your heart starts pounding with anxiety. 

“Toji!!!” you call out instinctively. Your boyfriend can solve everything. You glance at Toji, who has his hand stationary in the hair of his mechanic, his head turned to you. “Toji!” you cry out again, feeling increasingly more helpless and useless now. 

Immediately, he pushes the man’s head away roughly and strides over to you. He glances up in the sky when he sees you staring upwards. 

“I got you balloons because it was your birthday and they flew away!” you whine, feeling tears spring to your eyes just as you voice out what had happened. 

“Aw, baby, thank you,” Toji coos, quickly placing a hand on the back of your head to hug you to his chest even though your head is still turned to look at the escaping balloons. 

“Toji…” you sob as you watch your gift float away. 

He turns your chin gently so you are facing him, and he notices your tear stained cheeks. “Princess. Why are you crying?”

“Because! The balloons flew away!”

He looks up again to follow your finger pointing at the helium balloons. It is a good thing that it is not even evening yet so the black and white dots are still visible in the sky. 

“It’s okay. I can see them.” You only cry more at his pacifying tone. He cups your face in his huge, rough hands. “Oh, baby. I can see the balloons! Thank you.” Toji leans down to kiss you on your warm lips but it only makes you sob harder. Your boyfriend pulls you into him and engulfs in a tight hug. “Oh, Princess…” he coos into your hair. “We can buy more balloons.”

You wrap your arms weakly around his sturdy frame and cry into his chest. “I’m so stupid, Toji…” 

He kisses your crown and pulls back slightly. “You’re a sweet little thing, that’s what you are.” He wipes your cheeks with the back of his hands. He glances down at the bulky thing in your arm. “You got me another present?”

“Yeah…” You sniffle and hold it out to him. 

Toji takes it as he undoes the neatly tied ribbon and opens up the box. He sees a pair of black leather gloves. He takes them out and looks at you inquisitively. 

“The weather’s cold now so you need something to warm your hands while you’re riding,” you murmur thickly with a pout, still upset. 

His scarred lips tip into a smile. Putting the gloves back into the box, he holds your face again with his warm palms and leans down to drop a gentle kiss on your nose, then your lips. 

“You’re the sweetest. Thank you, Princess. For the gloves and the balloons.”

“Oh, the balloons!” you start crying, now reminded of it again. 

Toji lets out a defeated chuckle. To him, you’re a cute little mess he never wants to stop cleaning up after.

-

© chocochipsushi 2024 all works are mine, please do not rewrite/plagiarise

[spiderybobcat]

Sprite movement probably doesn't correlate with how much effort a monster is giving

There's a popular theory that suggests that how much effort a monster in putting in fighting you correlates with how much their sprite is moving. Toriel (Who is extremely reluctant to hurt you at all) and Napstablook (Who skips entire turns because he doesn't feel up to it)'s sprites barely move at all, while characters that really want to kill you like Undyne and Sans sprites bob and wave a lot. Undyne the Undying has a crazy amount of movement and is also the monster who puts the most effort into fighting you. This theory seems to have substantial evidence backing it up and is often used as a reason for why Papyrus would have to be ridiculously powerful.

It's also (probably) wrong.

Let's look at two other monsters who have completely stationary battle sprites.

Monster kid's genocide battle sprite is completely stationary with no animation at all. Zero. Zilch. This theory would imply Monster Kid was putting 0 effort at all into standing in your way, which obviously cannot be the case.

Ok, but monster kid is just a minor enemy who doesn't even do anything except trigger the Undying fight. One could argue that they don't have an animation because they don't create bullet patterns.

When Dogamy is slain before Dogaressa, Dogaressa will become enraged. Her attacks will do more damage, the patterns will go faster, the flavour text states that she "on the warpath", and she literally says she's going to chop you in half.

And you know what happens when you kill Dogamy?

Dogaressa STOPS MOVING.

So we have a case of a monster that starts putting MORE effort having LESS sprite animation. In my opinion, this proves that Toby Fox could not have designed sprite animation with effort in mind.

By the way, if you kill Dogaressa before Dogamy, Dogamy will become heartbroken. His defence drastically drops and the attack pattern he uses become significantly easier, a sad dog chucking a single heart at the ground. The dog doesn't even do damage. A pair of monsters with differing responses to grief. One who becomes depressed. One who becomes enraged. This would have been a PERFECT moment for Toby to drop a hint as to how the more effort a monster is putting in to fighting you, the more their sprite moves. But nope, Dogamy's sprite does the same thing as Dogaressa. Just stops moving.

And honestly even without that piece of evidence the theory was still a stretch to begin with.

-Sans is sweating buckets and trying harder to stop you than he's probably ever tried in his life and yet barely sways. Moldbygg has way more animation than him.

-Mettaton NEO barely moves either. His EX form (and arguably his box form) moves more than his NEO.

-If that theory were true even regular Undyne should have more animation than anyone else in the game.

-Asriel's final form moves way less than his god of hyperdeath form.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Fan Fiction: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Not only did Chuck write books about your lives, but a damn musical theater is putting a play on about your goddamn lives. You try to let them handle this one on their own but they're not letting you go, and it's time to bring insurance to make sure you never leave them.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Dean sits outside the motel room working on his car. The hood is up, he's elbow-deep in the engine, and Sam is nowhere to be found. You're standing off to the side with your gun trained in front of you. Your target is a tree that's fifty yards from you, something stationary. You wish you had a moving target but you don't think Dean and Sam would appreciate being put in the line of fire.

You pull the trigger three times, hitting the exact same spot on the tree, scaring some squirrels into fleeing their home.

"Would you quit it?" You look at Dean who pops his head from over the hood. He's a bit sweaty, has a grease smear on his forehead, and his arms look extra thick in his thin t-shirt. You don't have romantic feelings for him anymore, but damn he'd be a good fuck. "We're not the only people out here."

"I'm bored without a real target. Unless you'd like to be mine."

You smirk when he flips you off. The motel door opens and Sam walks out in search of you and his brother. You put your gun away and approach the brothers because Sam has his professional face on.

"Hey, how long have you two been up?"

"I never slept," you say.

"Long enough to find us a case," Dean replies right after you.

"I take it that means you're feeling back to normal?"

"Yeah, whatever normal is in our world. Right here." Dean takes a break from working on his car to hand Sam the newspaper. "A teacher in an all-girls school went missing in Flint, Michigan. She was heading to her car, disappeared, and nobody's seen her since."

"Dean, there's nothing here that even remotely suggests there is a case."

"There is nothing that even remotely suggests there isn't a case."

"Come on, man," Sam sighs.

"Sam! Being out there and hunting is the only normal I know." He closes the hood of the car and moves to the open trunk. He messes around with his weapons before shutting the trunk. "We got work to do."

"I'll tag along. It's not like I have anything better to do."

"Like you had a choice," Dean mutters to himself, but you hear.

It's a seven-hour drive from where you are, and those hours go by quickly. Sam gets the police department on the phone as soon as you enter the state of Michigan to ask about the details of the case. By the time Dean pulls into the school's parking lot, Sam is just about done with his conversation.

"I certainly appreciate it. ... You got it. Thanks, officer." He hangs up just as you three get out of the car. "So, the last place Ms. Chandler was seen by anyone was in the auditorium. Turns out she's the drama teacher."

"Theater kids. Great," Dean scoffs.

"What? I was a theater kid."

"Barely. You did Our Town, which was cool, but then you did that shitty musical."

"Oklahoma? Hugh Jackman got cast off of Oklahoma."

"You ran tech, Wolverine."

"Shut up," Sam, grumbles.

The principal already knows you're coming but she has a bunch of meetings to go to, so she allows you to find the auditorium on your own. There are young kids hanging a banner in front of the building for the musical they are about to do. You hate fucking musicals. You hope there isn't a case here ad you can go back to the Bunker and waste your life away on tanning and reading shitty magazines.

You walk into the auditorium to see students already working on their production of whatever musical they are doing. Before you have a chance to think, you hear a word you never thought you'd hear again.

"You idjits!" You snap your head to the right to see a young girl dressed exactly like your dad, beard and all. "You, idjits. You three are idjits."

"Hey, ass-butt!" You look to the left and see another young woman dressed just like Cas with angel wings on her back. "Hey! Ass-butt!"

Suddenly, someone plays a few notes on the piano on stage and a bunch of young girls begin their musical number. The song is about Sam and Dean's life. How John and Mary had two sons when a demon came into their room and killed Mary, and how the demon took a liking to Sam. The song transitions into your life with your mom starting at the age when she died. They sing about how the demon chased you through the house and killed your mom down the stairs. Sam and Dean are horrified to hear this but you're grinning from ear to ear.

"Cut!"

A young woman sitting in the audience and her friend run up the stage stairs to address the woman who is singing. You slap both brothers' shoulders with the same grin on your face.

"This is the best day ever."

"What in the h-holy..."

"If there is a case, it probably has something to do with all of this," Sam cuts his brother off.

"You think?"

The younger of the two girls grabs the arm of the director and points to you three at the back of the auditorium. Both girls immediately run off stage and over to you as if she knows who you three are.

"Hi! Oh, my gosh, are you guys from the publisher? I'm Marie, writer/director. This is Maeve, my stage manager. I was just--"

She stops talking when she sees Sam's FBI badge. He looks to the stage and sees the women playing Sam and Dean with their own FBI badges. He quickly puts his away and slaps Dean's hand which is holding his own badge. Dean can't even get his out fast enough because he is so shocked.

"I'm Special Agent Smith. These are my partners, Special Agents--"

"Smith," you answer.

"Yeah, no relation." Marie narrows her eyes in suspicion but Sam quickly changes topic. "We're here to look into the disappearance--"

"There is no singing in Supernatural!" Dean blurts out.

You snicker at his outburst to which he glares at you.

"What? Come on, this is funny!" you giggle.

"Well, this is Marie's interpretation," Maeve says.

"I mean, if there was singing, you know... and that's a big if! If there was singing, it would be classic rock. Not this Andrew Floyd Webber shit--"

"Andrew Lloyd Webber," Sam whispers to his brother.

"What?"

"You know, we do sing a cover of Carry On Wayward Son, in the second act," Marie says proudly.

"Really?" Sam asks in judgment.

"It's a classic!" Dean and Marie speak at the same time.

You roll your eyes, already bored of this.

"Right. Anyways. We're here to talk about the disappearance of Ms. Chandler. Any chance you two saw her before she vanished?"

"Yeah. She left around nine-thirty."

"Any idea where she would be headed at that time of night?"

"A bar? A liquor store? Both?" Maeve answers.

"She had a nasty divorce, last year. Most of the time, she's sipping on her 'grown-up juice', or passed out. Usually, in that order."

"Yeah, I don't blame her. I'm gonna need fifty jello shots and a hose-down to get this stink off of me," Dean scoffs.

"Maeve, right?" Sam jumps in. "You're the stage manager?"

"I understudy Jody Mills, too."

"What?" Dean asks in shock.

"That's great! Jody Mills, that's great," Sam says to his brother before turning to her. "So, how about you give me a behind-the-scenes tour, while your director shows my partners Ms. Chandler's office? Deal?" Both girls nod. "Great. Give us a moment, please."

Marie and Maeve leave you three alone, and you let out a loud cackle that causes Maeve to turn around and glare.

"I'm gonna throw up," Dean shudders.

"This is either going to go horribly wrong or horrible right, and I'm here for it," you giggle. Dean gives you a bitch-face look, and you slap his chest as you pass by him. "Lighten up, buddy."

You and Dean follow Marie backstage while Maeve goes off with Sam in the opposite direction. There is a table of props used for the musical, all labeled and in place. You grab one of the guns and inspect it, not impressed that it's all fake.

"Where did you get all this stuff?"

"Some parts are homemade and some parts are repurposed. All of it, awesome--" She looks over at you to see you touching one of the guns and grabs it from you. "Please don't touch them."

"These aren't even real. How are you going to hurt someone with these?"

"Don't mind her," Dean chuckles nervously. "She's having a bad day." Dean looks across the stage where the imposter Impala sits. Leaning against it are the two women who play Sam and Dean. They're standing a bit too close for Dean's liking. "What are they doing?"

"They're rehearsing the B.M. scene."

"The Bowel Movement scene?" you ask.

"What? No! The Boy Melodrama scene! You know, the scene where the boys get together, and they're driving, leaning against Baby, and drinking a beer, sharing their feelings. The two of them. Alone but together. Bonded. United. The power of the brotherly--"

"Why are they standing so close together?"

"Reasons," Marie shrugs.

Dean understands what Marie is hinting at, and you snicker at the thought of Sam and Dean getting together sexually.

"You know they're brothers, right?"

"Duh! It's subtext."

"You know he and Y/N are married and have kids, right?"

"What? No. I mean, I know she got pregnant but she had Cas get rid of the baby. Man, Dean was so pissed at her for doing that."

"Best decision I ever made," you grin and lock eyes with Dean. "I should have gotten rid of the other two."

Hurt flashes across his eyes but he'd rather not get into that right now. Marie looks at you two in confusion but moves on. She takes you away from the auditorium into a long white hallway where Ms. Chandler's office is. She walks ahead of you to open the door, and you look at Dean.

"She's right. You and Sam would make such a cute couple."

"I'm gonna smack you."

"Don't tease a good time," you smirk.

You three enter the office where there are empty bottles upon empty bottles of alcohol everywhere. Dean takes a sweep of the room with his eyes before settling them on a robot head near the bookshelf.

"Is that hers?"

"No, that's a prop from act two! I've been looking for that, actually."

"There's no space in Supernatural."

"Not canonically, no, but this is transformative fiction."

"You mean fanfiction?"

"Call it whatever you like, but it's inspired by Carver Edlund's books with a few embellishments. As you know, Chuck stopped writing after Swan Song--"

"Yeah, that douche," you scoff and Dean slaps your arm to get you to stop talking.

"I couldn't leave it the way that it was! I mean, with Dean leaving Y/N and living with Lisa? Her being on her own after the breakup? Sam in Hell? I wrote my own ending."

"You want to know what happened after that?" you step closer to her. "Y/N fucks Sam over and over again to get over her sad excuse of an ex."

"Okay, stop talking," Dean pulls you back.

"Try this one on for size. How about Dean and Y/N have a baby while he's still fucking Lisa?"

"Go wait outside!"

"No, she needs to know these things! What about them going to purgatory where she ends up pregnant because Dean can't keep it in his pants?" Dean is already shoving you to the door. "Bobby dies, Sam undergoes angel trials, and Dean becomes a demon!"

Dean shoves you out of the office and slams the door in your face. You roll your eyes and make your way back to the prop table where you mess the props up like a fucking child. You see Sam and Maeve in the sound booth chatting, so you make your way over to them to bother them. Sam looks up from the control board when you enter.

"Special Agent Smith kicked me out so I'm hanging out with you," you grin and sit in between them.

You reach over and touch the control board to see what different buttons do, but Maeve slaps your hand away. You stare at her and Sam waits with held breath to see what you're going to do. Luckily for her, you let it go and lean back in your chair.

"Now, have you noticed anything strange during the production? I mean, any odd noises or--"

"You mean something like this?" Maeve pushes a button on the control panel and a scream sounds. "Or perhaps, this?" She presses another button and a ghostly moan sounds. "Maybe this?"

"Okay, I get it. You know, back when I did tech in school, we had two CD decks--"

"Someone speaks to Maeve over the headset, and she cuts Sam off mid-sentence.

"She's not interested in your nerd talk," you say to Sam.

"I'm sorry, I have to go sign the delivery. Please, don't touch anything."

Maeve scurries off leaving you and Sam alone. Sam doesn't like to be alone with you because he's the butt of your very harsh jokes, so he makes a half-hearted excuse and leaves you alone in the sound booth. Dean and Meave come back from Ms. Chandler's office and meet up with Sam. Marie joins her friend's side as they both sign for the delivery. You reach up and begin playing with the controls, messing with the lights and sounds. Everyone on stage looks at you like you're the outsider in a group of best friends. Sam and Dean look like they're ready to kill you, so you press a button and speak into the mic.

"I'm bored. Can we go? I'd rather pull my own hair out than be stuck in here with a bunch of bratty kids."

Dean glares holes through the glass at you and motions with one finger to come to the stage. 

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[asdfjasklfjdkla]

lathes are literally one of the most docile types of machines around. they're like cows, you treat them wrong or put your fingers where you shouldn't and they'll bite, but usually it's not gonna be more than a cut or a bruise unless you've really fucked up. you're more likely to get hurt handling their chips than handling the machine themselves

it's mills you gotta watch out for. they've got spinning sharp bits, they spit out very very sharp and very very hot chips (which are Incredibly Unfun to get stuck down your bra while you're working), they can take chunks out of you if you get too close and do not let your hair down around them, but they're still fine to handle if you treat them with respect

a fun thing about me is that despite working with machines and shit to make fixing the very expensive guy less expensive, lathes still scare the bejeezus out of me

[interdimensionalburnout]

>> ((from seashaper)) [An elegant, silvery gauntlet trimmed in blue and white arrives in an airtight transparent plastic box; a white gem shimmers from the back of the hand, and its fingers taper into curved points. Though sealed within the internally warded container, it puts off a malevolent, cold energy. A piece of stationary detailing its abilities appears on top, signed in neat calligraphy at the bottom by Rook:

'Benefits:

Resistance to cold-based damage.

Allows interaction with ice as if it were a textured and walkable surface.

Attacks with weapons channel its power to imbue the impact with ice.

Allows repeatable and rechargeable but limited use of ice control based spells: Ray of Frost, unlimited. Cone of Cold, 3 times a day. Wall of Ice, 1 time per day.

Tips of gauntlet can carve and engrave in ice as if they were heated metal.

Curse effects, based in lingering hostile spiritual energy:

Refusal and inability to part with the item.

Gradual ice-based transformation of a metaphysical nature that becomes primarily dangerous in the moment of death- emotion, sympathy and empathy slowly decrease along with melanin and body temperature, eventually leading to an instantaneous and permanent bodily polymorph into solid ice.

Absolutely do not put it on. Based on its other effects and overall nature there is a high chance of the gauntlet freezing to the skin of the wearer until death or violently removed. Thank you and be careful. -- Rook.']

@seashaper

>>You and Maria had the thing set up to arrive in your engine room, where you do all the analysis for artifacts (usually before you chuck them in said engine), and almost instantly your own psionic reception picks up on some kernal of a malicious thought inside the glove. You don't think it can talk, but you find you can exchange thoughts and feelings with it. Maria's busy reading Rook's compiled information when she notices your exposed eye's gone all slack, distant, and asks,

>>"You feelin' alright, Berrberr?" All at once, you find yourself unsettled by the probing, enticing essence in the gauntlet, and ripped from your conversation by 'Berrberr.' Your head snaps to Maria, then back to the glove, which quickly goes from "C'mon, just put me onnnnn" to "OW IM JUST A WIDDLE BIRTHDAY BOY" once you've jabbed the container hard enough to jostle the little bastard into the walls of its plastic prison. Maria's head jerks backwards in surprise, seemingly amused at whatever interaction she missed.

>>You look at Maria, the tips of your ears a little red, and say, "Berr... Berr? Ay?" Maria's expression is cool, her poker-face unbroken; you won't be getting an explanation about whether or not "nickname status" means you're a step further out of the dog house. She swaps the container for the note, taking the glove to your examination table and pulling an adjustable arm down, winding the claw open before donning an apron of shadow, pulled from under the table and the ceiling above. After browsing over the tag, you make your way to her.

>>The container lid is flipped off with the casualness of experts, and the care of novices, but there's masterful hands at play here, and you both put experienced eyes on the thing under a harsh white examination light. You take a metal rod and poke at the gauntlet, and instantly reel your hand back as the rod sticks to the side of the thing. This could be fun.

HEY ROOK WE GOT YOUR GLOVE!

I think Partition might be able to let me talk to whatever essence is behind the curse! It's kinda rude tbh.

[sexhaver]

ive been fucking around with wire bending tools for the last few months trying to make trees, the third pic above is my best attempt so far and was a gift for bailey. this in turn has led to me falling down a rabbithole of investigating how to improve/make tools for the wire braiding process. the tree pictured above was done using this janky tool called a "Cobra Coiler" i bought online that is basically just a drill chuck with a hand crank mounted to an L-bracket. it's fine for smaller trees but feels like itll violently explode if i push it too far. ive had some success with misusing these electrical wire stripper/braider drill bits in my hand drill, but that's pretty limited in terms of how many strands i can braid at once.

all of the braiding tools ive found online are for regular rope, hair, or paracord, so i think im gonna have to make my own here. im thinking the stationary end is gonna have a circular clamp consisting of a pipe wrench around some circular blank, and the turning end will have to be some kind of other circular blank with a bunch of holes in it hooked up to like... idk a hand crank with some insane gearing. seems like it's more about torque than rippems

[lunarsilkscreen]

Evangelism of the unknown

Quite frequently when we talk about new science or technology it gets turned into this meta-physical, magical, maybe even *Divinely Inspired* thing...

"We must stop ourselves from succumbing to these understandings because they are beneficial to nobody." - Anon

Very often evangelical scientists try to equate our new unknown understanding to locating to the origin of God and the universe. Despite the story of Babbel explicitly saying that we cannot reach God.

This isn't Unique to religion either as the way Quantum physics is often described; due to varying languages translation differences in the field between speaking language and the technical scientific languages--which often leads to magical thinking.

WOW. QUANTA IS ENTIRELY RANDOM, AND IF WE FIGURE IT OUT WE CAN HARNESS IT TO TELL THE FUTURE... In a way that is more than where to be in order to catch a ball thrown in your direction.

We analyze things one Quantum level the same way we do on the microscopic. And if you were to look at a Rock at such a level, it'd be entirely intuitive what you're looking at.

It is less obvious on the fluid level, like with air since we can't see it. But we can see water, which is a near equivalent approximation.

The only thing not as intuitive is the flow of electricity through a wire. Electrons are the bits that move, while the rest is stationary.

Still, a close approximation is fluid dynamics as water or air in a pipe.

The problem arises when you try to separate the macro view; let's say a Rock, and the microscopic view; the atoms in a rock.

And then we move the rock and wonder why the atoms of that rock moved... Must be random.

Imagine Neil DeGrasse Tyson looking at this rock under a microscope, and his partner-in-crime Chuck Nice keeps moving the Rock.

Tyson: wow the Atom disappeared.

*Chuck puts Rock back*

Tyson: wow, amazing. It's back. How do we quantify this randomness?

*Chuck looks at the camera smiling.*

[aryasnow]

15 Questions:

tagged by @thehiddenbaroness, @oftwodarkmoons, and @daughter-rhaenyra thank you all!!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Allegedly named after my mom's favorite author, but my first and middle combo was basically the default name for girls in my class growing up. It was her second choice of a name which is disappointing considering her first choice was awesome. Instead I am literally Trendy McTrendName for the year I was born.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I don't really cry unless I have gone through something life altering or am very, very drunk. As such I'm guessing the last time was last St. Patrick's Day, as it likely will be again tomorrow.

3. Do you have kids?

No, never wanted them

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

Competitive swimming was my entire life from elementary school on until I had to dial it back and eventually quit in college (too many injuries). I also did a fair amount of skiiing/snowshoeing/hiking/kayaking/etc growing up. In my 20's I got very into distance running but had to quit in 2019 because of (new and different!) injuries. These days I mostly do running (though less than before) and weights. Since the TikTok brigade took over my gym post-pandemic, I have been trying to somehow build a home gym in my 800 sq ft apartment and at this point I am only a stationary bike away from being free of them forever.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

You could say so, yes

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Honestly I am usually trying so hard not to make eye contact with people that I don't see much of anything. I suppose the honest answer is that I can tell if their body language is genuine or fake. And to really answer it, eyes and also arms. I love that my husband can pick me up like it's nothing what can I say ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

7. What’s your eye color?

Very, very dark brown.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I am pretty indifferent to scary movies though I do enjoy them from time to time. I do like happy endings mostly because I hate loose ends. It's okay if they're bittersweet though.

9. Any talents?

Cooking and baking. They're my primary hobbies for a reason.

10. Where were you born?

The most beautiful state in the Union.

11. What are your hobbies?

Cooking (I try to do a new recipe once a week), baking, fitness, trivia leagues, word puzzles, garbage television, this godforsaken website.

12. Do you have any pets?

yep <3

they are 10 and 11 this year and it's absolutely killing me. I need them to live forever.

13. How tall are you?

5'6''

14. Favorite subject in school?

I loved English and US history a lot, but biology was always my favorite. In college it was biological anthro and archaeology.

15. Dream job?

My first thought was wine critic but I realized I would need to get better at describing wine as things other than "good" or "okay" (It would take a lot for me to call a wine bad. I drank exclusively Two Buck Chuck for years).

I think some sort of hotel or restaurant critic would be my dream. Letting me sample pretentious things while being professionally judgmental really would be ideal for me.

Please consider yourself tagged if you would like to fill this out!!

[shallowseeker]

Thinking about the SPN finale ghosts again, and how it echoes through each member of TFW.

(I think about this a lot. But it was all spawned by @angelcasendgame's additions to this post about how Sam really likes books). And...my recent pajamas obsession.

I went looking for this, and sadly, it isn't a meta so much as it is a collection of unrelated motif-thoughts. :(

Cas stuff

Cas almost never wears sleepwear, but when he does it's the dark dad robe of failed familial protector. He's the specter of always-working-dad. When he's not that, he's the homeless veteran, veteran-turned minimum-wage-civilian, or veteran-as-mental-patient. (images from smiledean)

In the finale, Cas (and his parallel) were both positioned as sentries of the door. Cas is the barrier-shield to protect the house.

Cas almost never sleeps and rarely wears pajamas. Instead, he's usually depicted in full-military or working/office "gear." Cas is, symbolically, the overworked father, "always working, even drained," as the finale drains the dad.

As motif of working father, he only is shown resting when he's dying or severely weakened--"ill." He rests only when he's dying or dead. As is his "duty."

He's always trying to protect them, even when he's failing miserably at it. Ironically, other family members resent his protection as much as they appreciate its security.

The finale-dad (Lyle Crowther) dies in front of an open door, when his back is turned, just as Cas literally dies in front of the door to another world.

Cas's deepest wants (12x19 The Future) were depicted as Sam running in a field of freedom and Dean being (ahem, very close) relieved, thankful, and free of burdens. (He perceives Dean's "distress," and he knows that he "adds to it," but he does not fully understand it.)

Cas patrols the bunker like a guard, and in his downtime, he indulges in the escapist fantasy of Saturday Evening Post + TV.

In his dreamscape, he sits at the table watching TV, notably not performing any sort of duty or chore as he basks inside the hearth of home (kitchen).

He often lectures Jack from this position at the kitchen table. (And sometimes from within Jack's room as well).

Dean stuff

Dean likes to nest, and he crows happily about that when they first find the Bunker. He quickly decorates his room, finds a "homey" gray robe, finds the shower and sings its water pressure praises, and takes over the kitchen. Other people don the dead guy robe. First is Chuck, who apes the "performing Dean" and overfocuses on his porn collection. (This is how Chuck sees Dean, after all--purely in a surface-level, sexual sense.) Other wearers include Mary and Jack, both of whom Dean wraps in gray robes as he welcomes them into the kitchen to eat a hardy meal of bacon and/or burgers. (images from TheFamilyBusiness.com)

Dean (borrowing from @scoobydoodean) is the hearth of the home, the heart.

(He's even referred to as "Tin Man" in 9x03 Slumber Party.)

He's the one in the family who wears the male version of the Dead Parent, "dead guy" robe -> dressing gown, in the form of the gray MoL robe. This robe is like the gray duster of his finale counterpart, the horrified warrior-caretaker.

He also wears cute, silly pajamas as the series goes on, revealing more of his actual personality in stark contrast to the sexy Malboro Man Chuck wanted to portray him as.

In later seasons, Dean wears hot dog pants, novelty socks, Scooby Doo boxers, and the lavender Scooby-Doo outfit (Dickens-style "dad" dressing shirt + nightcap).

In 14x10, Nihilism, Dean's dreamscape depicts him retired and waiting for his family to come home. Even at his failing roadhouse (Rocky's Bar in 14x10 Nihilism), he wants to provide rest and nourishment--drink and merriment.

When trouble comes to him, he can even help out as a distinguished warrior from his stable, stationary position.

Importantly, in his dreamscape, Dean does not brave the storm outside. (Pamela does that for him.)

Dean longs to be the safe harbor, the stop on the road, a destination to return to.

He embodies the warmth of the kitchen.

Likewise, he too delivers mentorship to Jack from the kitchen.

Occasionally, he enters Jack's bedroom and is the first member of TFW to be shown siting on Jack's bed as he mentors.

Sadly, in the finale, after the shield falls, the caretaker-warrior can only flee to higher ground as the hearth is breached.

Eventually, the caretaker falls, too, and is rendered mute as the tongue is brutally ripped out. (Just as Dean "cannot speak" in 15x19's script, as Jack disappears.)

Sam stuff

Sam is typically up early, wearing running gear or soft, modern pajamas. To my knowledge, I never saw him wearing a robe, but I'm happy to be corrected.

Sam yearns for safety, but he enjoys the academic rigor of "brainiac" career living.

He is usually positioned inside the library, surrounded by books, even in Gadreel's mindscape (9x09 Holy Terror).

Sam seems to genuinely love pouring over ancient books, examining the minutiae of cases, and throwing his weight towards a cause/career.

(Prone to perfectionism, Sam can be a little obsessive when it comes to filing literature, exercising, and "clean" eating.)

To Jack, Sam usually delivers mentorship from the quiet of the library, though occasionally comes into his room to attempt to give him pep talks.

Thus, Sam is the keeper of the books, the historian, the legacy.

Witchcraft is a natural outcropping of Sam's Solomonari-like thirst for knowledge.

And yet, his ghost-in-the-finale is shown cowering under the bed, yearning for safety, and so afraid of the loss of the loved ones that have always protected him (Cas and Dean). It's as Chuck coos in 12x09 The Trap, "You think Dean n' Cas are gonna come charging through that door just in the nick of time. You still think you can win."

As the shield is destroyed and the hearth is breached, the war spreads to the bedroom, creaking open the door. This is the safest space. (The symbolic nursery.)

Notably, Sam wears distinctly modern pajamas at all times, usually a simple tee + tracksuit bottoms. NEVER old-style or retro button-ups and never a nightgown over it.

Even his hoodie in the final, speaks of a "modern teenager," free to take on the world and live freely in the garden (field) of the Earth.

Jack stuff

Jack wears Cas's overcoat, because he's under Cas's protection, and a MoL robe because he's under the Winchesters' (specifically, Dean's) care.

Like Sam, Jack often wears the garb of a modern teenager around the house. On occasion, unlike Sam, he has a (vintage-ish) set of pajamas in gray and blue, as well as a little apron he wears in the kitchen.

Jack is triparted chimera of all three of his father-figures, from their best selves (courage, heart, knowledge) to their worst shadow selves (tyrant-god/frankincense, sacred executioner "the law"/myrrh, and martyr-king/gold).

Jack is typically shown inhabiting the domains of the other three (kitchen, battlefield, inside cars, the library), but he's often shown in his own bedroom.

Often, he is shown associated with family fun (family game night, Connect-four, Mouse trap), just as the younger boy in blue from the finale (Brady Crowther) is depicted playing checkers with his brother.

Jack dons the MoL nightgown after coming back from the dead, and thereafter is depicted in old-style blue/gray, "little boy," button-up pajamas, representing the responsibility of the angel/God he has always been expected to grow into.

But if we take Byzantium at face value, Jack just wants to be small--to shirk the insurmountable duty and destiny he was (seemingly) born into. Not a child or a boy, "just me."

He longs for the little moments, like fishing or spending time together.

His Heaven was a simple roadtrip--being together.

Somewhat paradoxically, he ALSO wants powers and strength to be able to protect everyone.

Unlike Sam, Jack is not cloaked solely in modernity but as Son of Heaven (red blood, blue sky).

He is veritable HEIR to Heaven, and as such, he is not actually free to inhabit the garden of the Earth.

He cannot escape his Heavenly father's "robe," that of God.