just a cardboard box

A thing that fucks me up as a Polish person on Tumblr. (or on the internet at large)

These things.

You guys call these (admittedly delicious) donuts “paczki” (or “paczkis” which annoys the hell out of me because that’s a double plural.), even though their actual spelling is “pączki”.

And the thing is that “paczki” is also a word in Polish.
And it means “packages”.

And that really cracks me up every time I see that spelling.

Just the mental image of someone eating a cardboard box from Amazon or whatever.

(The problem is not present with the singular forms though, since the singular of “pączki” is “pączek” while the singular of “paczki” is “paczka”.)

This is maybe not the most relatable form of humor out there, but yeah, this has been Your Friendly Polish Nerd On Tumblr Talking About Language.

Okay so one time in 7th grade at the very end of the year my home room teacher was moving classrooms and our English teacher was moving into the old one so we had a bunch of cardboard boxes left empty and so kids were just hanging out under them like hermit crabs and then we decided to take a picture and everybody got into a cardboard box and I was a pretty tiny kid so after we took the picture I tried to close the box and I FIT PERFECTLY INSIDE so the kids in my class and I thought it would be funny to prank a teacher by taking the box with me in it to a teacher and they told our teacher about it and he just said “Okay, which teacher do you want to go to?” And everybody decided to take me to our English teacher. Her current classroom was on the other side of the school. My home room teacher chose five people to escort me and my box on a spinning office chair down an elevator, across four hallways, and up a flight of stairs to our English room. They were giggling the whole way there and when we got there I hear them tell her the box was for her, she asked what was in it and then she opened the box and we stared at each other for five seconds before I croak out “hi”. She closes the box and I hear muffled yelling. I get out of the box and her home room is staring at me like I just came out of narnia and my classmates are laughing and I just walk away and that is the story of when I became a box.

why is it still considered acceptable to make posts like

“neurotypicals think psychosis is edgy scary rocking back and forth, there’s knives and blood and terrible beasts! but real psychosis is just like, music playing when there should be no music, and seeing cardboard boxes out the corner of your eye! lol!”

some people do have the “scary” psychosis. and in making posts like these you are effectively trying to distance yourself from the “scary” ones

five stages of finals grief
  • Denial: you know what? my grades are probably fine! i need to stop worrying so much
  • Anger: well FUCK THE SYSTEM for putting so much pressure on us to excel academically and FUCK ANYONE WHO THINKS A TEST GRADE DEFINES ME
  • Bargaining: dear god, please let me pass the test. just send me a sign i'll do alright so i can stop worrying, okay? i'll do anything you want, just... just send me a sign. .... .... ...okay, dear satan....
  • Depression: *hysterical sobbing*
  • Acceptance: okay, fuck it. just... fuck it. i will live in a cardboard box and i will live off the grid because i am going to fail this. i accept my fate. fuck this.

based on a convo with @devichonee because… too cute

devicho: when he’s acting up he just covers him with a cardboard box or something and he has to apologize before sans will remove the box

devicho: imagine if a bunch of time passed and sans noticed flowey hadn’t apologized but also was really quiet

devicho: so he lifted the box up and flowey had fallen asleep because it was all dark

Puppies And Stuff

[Word Count: 2,007]

just fluff tbh

i sat for five minutes staring at puppies on google and crying over cute they are

Dean x Reader


Dean was going to kill you. 

You could just envision his reaction when you walk into the Bunker, cardboard box in arms, but what else were you supposed to do? 

You had been driving back to the Bunker after a quick run to the grocery store - ‘Baby, make sure you grab beer!’ Dean had yelled, which you had rolled your eyes at. ‘And ingredients to burgers - but especially the beer!’ - and was driving along the empty road, when you slowed the Impala to cruise past the mysterious cardboard box on the side of the road. 

Though your hunter instincts told you to be careful, your curiosity got the better of you, and you pulled over to take a look. Slipping your gun out from the waistband of your jeans as a safety precaution, you sneak up to the box, glancing around the area first, before bending over and lifting the lid, quickly jumping back with your gun aimed should anything jump out at you.

Nothing jumped out though. Getting a closer look, you practically melt on the spot when you catch sight of the box’s contents - puppies. Two of them, German Shepherds, curled up together and shivering in the corner of the box as they tried to stay warm. Biting your lip, you glance back and forth between the animals and the Impala in contemplation, though you know that there’s no room for decision - the choice has already been made.

Driving back to the Bunker, the cardboard box placed on the passenger seat and your plaid shirt stripped off and tossed over the puppies as a makeshift blanket, you try to think up what to say to Dean when he sees. Nothing comes to mind though, and with a sigh, you pull up in the garage and take a moment to settle your breathing before sliding out, box in arms.

The two puppies had woken up from the movement of your walking, one of them wriggling out from the warmth of your shirt to investigate the reason why it had been woken. Fur sticking out in every direction, it shakes its head, ears flopping, before glancing around with freshly opened eyes. You’re so engrossed in watching the cuteness unfold that you don’t hear the footsteps nearing you until it’s too late.

“What’s in the box, sweetheart?” Dean asks, brows drawn together as he nears you, reaching out to take the box. You yelp, stumbling back and twisting the box out of his reach as you shake your head. 

“N-no, no! Uh, it’s nothing, this is, uh, a surprise - yeah, a surprise for you, so you can’t look!” You hurry to explain, wincing every time you stuttered because Dean’s eyes would narrow ever so slightly in suspicion each time. 

“Uh huh …” He nods once, arms folding and stance imposing, and you nod frantically before backing away in the direction of Sam’s room, footsteps pattering down the hall as you make your escape. 

You stumble into the room, kicking the door shut and resting your ear against it to listen out for Dean, in case he followed. Sam, who is sat on the bed with his back resting against the headboard and a book in his hands, glances up curiously, eyebrows raising slowly at your behavior as you back away from the door slowly.

“What’s up, Y/N?” He asks, closing the book and dropping it onto the bedside table as he sits up. 

You turn to him, box clutched tightly to your chest as you glance between Sam and the door a couple of times before nearing the bed. “Promise you won’t get mad?” You ask, voice quiet as you glance down to see that both puppies are now awake and stumbling around on unsteady legs.

Sam’s brows dip as he stands up, walking around the bed to get closer to you. With his height advantage, it’s difficult to hide the contents of the box, and before you can do anything, Sam’s eyes are widening as he reaches for the box. “Are those … Puppies?”

“I found them on the side of the road, they’d just been abandoned and I couldn’t leave them there!” You hurry to explain, biting your lip anxiously as you avoid his eyes, certain that he would tell you to take them back or put them in a shelter.

You hold your breath as you give him the box, unsure of his reaction. Slowly, a wide smile spreads across his face as he sets the box on the bed, reaching in to lift one up and raising it to eye level. A quiet chuckle leaves him as the puppy squirms, and he draws it close to his chest, scratching softly behind its ears.

You watch with wide eyes as Sam becomes completely engrossed in the puppy, the way he practically curls around it and unconsciously bounces as he walks, as if trying to comfort a baby, before you smile too, reaching into the box to pick up the other puppy and cuddle it in a similar way to Sam. You almost squeal in delight when the puppy cuddles closer to you, the soft tufts of fur tickling at your skin.

“What am I gonna tell Dean?” You murmur quietly, sitting down on the edge of Sam’s bed as you glance up at him. He shrugs, adjusting his grip on the now sleeping puppy so that it was cradled in his arms, before sitting next to you. 

“Well, he’s gonna find out eventually, so why not just tell him?” He suggests, though he knows that it’s unlikely that Dean will react well. 

“I … I have an idea …” You begin, biting your lip as you think it over. “It might work.”


Five minutes later and you’re on the hunt for Dean, the two puppies cradled in your arms in such a manner that it would be hard for anyone to say no - after all, how could Dean resist your puppy-dog eyes, and two literal puppies?  

You find him in the kitchen, the grocery bags on the side and an open beer bottle on the counter by the stove. His back is turned, and from the smell of things, Dean has made a start on the burgers. Shifting in your spot for a moment, you take a deep breath before walking in.

“Dean,” You begin, biting your lip. “This probably isn’t the surprise you had in mind, but …”

He turns around, arms crossed over his chest, only for panic to take over his face as he waves his arms at you. “What-? Why-? Why have you got dogs? Oh, God, get them out of the kitchen and away from the food, dammit!”

Hurrying out, you fight to keep Dean’s eye contact as he follows you, his eyes wide. “What’re they doing in here?” 

“Please, Dean, I can explain!” You amp up the puppy-dog eyes, which you had learnt to perfect after studying Sam’s puppy gaze for so long. “They were on the side of the road and they had no where else to go. I couldn’t just leave them there - they’re still babies! Can we keep them? Please?”



“I said no, Y/N.” He says firmly, no room for discussion as his arms cross over his chest. You feel your eyes start to fill up with tears - completely natural, though you decide to use them to your advantage - and you sniffle sadly as you glance down at the puppies that wriggled in your arms.

Dean’s eyes widen as he realizes you’re about to cry, and he rushes forward, hands reaching out to try and comfort you. “Baby, we can’t keep them. It’s not suitable for them to live here, and we’re hunters, we won’t be able to look after them.”

You nod sadly, a real tear slipping down your face. “Okay …” You whisper, turning away to head back to Sam, your head down-turned in defeat.

“Wait-” Dean starts, reaching out you grab your arm. He sighs, running a hand through his hair before muttering. “We’ll look after them for the week, we have no cases at the moment, so we’ll look after them. But after that, we’re taking them to the shelter, okay?”

Turning back to Dean with a wide smile, you adjust your grip on the puppies to pull Dean down for a kiss, before bounding away happily to tell Sam the news, leaving a breathless Dean to shake his head and smile at your behavior.


One year later, and the puppies were now dogs - awkwardly proportioned, gangly German Shepherds that were halfway grown and caught between sizes of a puppy and dog. They were still puppy-like in nature, eager to play and cuddle, yet were well-trained, making to be the perfect guard dog and hunting companion when suitable for the case. 

The original one week had turned to two, and then three, and then a month, until eventually Dean had given in with a sigh and agreed to keep them, though he was secretly just as excited as you and Sam. 

Whilst Dean had a strict no dogs allowed in the bedrooms, more often than not you would find you and Dean curled up together at night, a dog resting at your feet whilst the other slept in Sam’s room. Dean even let them ride in the back of the Impala (though only after they’d been toilet trained, obviously). Perhaps the most surprising thing of all, was that Dean had taken up exercise, frequently offering to walk the dogs in the evenings whilst Sam took them in the morning for his jogs. 

“I’m glad.” You sigh quietly, your head resting on Dean’s chest as you take in the peaceful morning.

“Why?” He asked, one arm folded behind his head, the other curled around you, his hand resting in the dip of your hip to trace shapes on the skin. 

“Glad that you said yes to keeping the dogs. Makes it feel like a family.” 

“Hmm, yeah, I agree.” He murmurs back, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“You know what would make it feel even more like a family?” You whisper, kissing the bare skin of his chest, just above his heart, before sitting up.

His arm follows you, snaking up your back to play with your sleep-mussed hair. “What?” 

“If we had a baby.”

Dean freezes for a moment, hand still in your hair and breath caught in his throat. “Y/N …” He whispers breathlessly, and you glance over your shoulder at him, a shy blush dusting your cheeks as you shift to face Dean. His hand slips from your hair, and you grab it before it drops to the bed, taking it and directing in until his hand was pressed to your stomach. 

“Dean, I’m pregnant …” 

Silence fills the room before he flails to sit up, pulling you close as an ecstatic smile lights up his face, before he pulls away, arms still wrapped around you. His eyes are glassy with tears as he leans forward to press a loving kiss to your lips, a bubble of choked laughter leaving him as he struggles to form words. “I … I’m gonna be a dad?” He whispers, voice strained with emotions as he glances down at your stomach.

You nod, a quiet ‘uh-huh’ leaving you. A soft smile graces your features as Dean looks at your face, the tears finally slipping down his cheeks as he pulls you close for another hug, before kissing you again. “I love you …” He murmurs, voice ragged as he pulls away, leaning down to kiss lightly on your stomach. “So much …”

“I love you, too …” You murmur back, fingers finding their way into his hair as he sits back up to embrace you, unable to convey his emotions any other way.

Lil Darlin would actually be the worst Animal Crossing villager like the one that has a stupid ass catch phrase that you can never change and it somehow passes on to other villagers and her house just has like a cardboard box and a radio and she keeps trying to pawn off random shit to you (including her mixtape).

anonymous asked:

You said you keep all your stuff in a box in Pap's closet, right? Is it just a cardboard box, or is it something else?

“Nah, it’s just a cardboard box.  I don’t necessarily got a lot of stuff.  Most of it is just clothes.  Plus you can get those for free if you poke around someplace that gets food shipments.  Why be fancy when you can just get something that works?”

the dead mall series is extremely good. it juxtaposes glossy neon 80′s video clips and mall muzak with original footage of abandoned, moldering retail space left empty since the collapse of malls and big box stores in the 2000′s.

in one video the guy goes into an Ames that’s sat abandoned since 2002, and the backroom is just piled with collapsed cardboard boxes of unsold stuff. it’s completely surreal.

why am i so obsessed with abandoned retail spaces??? they have this aura about them like grim, accusatory omens. “here you built your public spaces around flimsy businesses and consumption, to serve the needs of capital. And when the market went bust, you lost all your public spaces.”

Your OTP+ just moved in together! 

Who’s actually trying to unpack? Who just hides in the cardboard boxes, jumping out every so often? Who starts unpacking, but finds an old photo album and sits in the middle of the floor grinning? Who doesn’t even pretend to help, just gets a pillow and naps. 

anonymous asked:

Hey Yeah it's the trash man here and I got some terrible messages for ya. How come when snake hide in a box, no one can see him. Defies box logic if u ask me, the trash man

tbh if i saw a cardboard box scuttling across the ground id just be like “well thats neat”