terrible original content

Types of Shaft Head-Tilts and how to use them

The ‘Lean Back’

For those of you who find turning around to face people too difficult, but still want to maintain eye contact.

The Stargazer

use: breaking your neck while impressing your friends

The 'Despair’

use: being in despair. Use at least twice a day, and make sure to inform everyone you are in despair as you do so.

The 'Posed Look’

use: only if you are a zombie, otherwise you will die

The Tsundere

use: letting everyone know you’re better and more flexible than them while maintaining drama during otherwise undramatic situations

The revolver

use: do this ten times during every day convos with your friends and family

The multiplier

use: if any of the above doesn’t strongly convey your feelings enough, do it in front of a reflective object so people can view your disdain from multiple angles.

The Spinebreaker

use: letting the audience know you’re a fucking demon who feels no pain

The Toothbrusher

use: don’t do this

laneyloooo  asked:

I was wondering if you could do a fic where dean has a daughter (it's not impossible he's had enough one night stands for it to be probable) and they take her back to the bunker and are like "this is-" and she's like "mr. Novak?" and everyone is confused and it turns out that the novaks helped out her mother and her when she was younger before he disappeared and she was friends with claire and has read the supernatural books and when they reveal he's cas she showers him with compliments and yeah

    Dean and Cas had gradually happened. It wasn’t all at once - which was obvious to anyone watching - but rather like a slow, rolling ball that just kept collecting love on the roll down the hill. There wasn’t a need to say it out loud often, because they just… knew. The angel and hunter had an understanding between each other - between the long glances, between the short hugs - that never was breathed out loud. Honestly, Sam probably knew that Dean was in love before Dean knew. 


Now that Dean’s realized it, things are relaxed. There’s a little ‘babe’ that slips out now and then. Cas doesn’t try to hide his glare anymore when a woman approaches Dean. The two spend long nights where Dean can’t sleep and they sit close, arms pressed together and legs stretched, whispering about their days and laughing as they make their way through Dean’s favorite sitcoms. Cas secretly hates Doctor Sexy - the show is so god damn bland and the doctor really, really gets under his skin - but he watches it anyway, just to see the corners of Dean’s lips pull up when a cheesy joke is made. 


No, there was never an official label, or an official “I love you”, but it was just understood. 


So that’s why, when Dean went out on a hunt with Sam and brought back a young girl, Cas was hurt. 


Another witch case - black magic, bad stuff. This coven wasn’t playing with the Little League anymore. 


When they crashed the barn where the coven was, the last thing Dean expected to see was his own eyes peering back at him. His freckles on someone else’s face - his hair grown out and a little messy. His bow legs turned in and his stubborn personality being spouted out of his own soft, pink lips. But there she was - just like Dean, wrapped into a beautiful young woman. 


Sam didn’t notice at first. He was going to capture her. Thoughts raced through his mind, and the most loud, pounding one was that this girl shouldn’t be scared. The thought of him frightening her was a burning stab right in his core. The ache in Dean’s chest was unreal - it was like protecting his soul as he shouted for Sam to stop. His brother halted the chanting, stopped walking towards her, and his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. He stared at Dean, expecting an answer. 


“Don’t… don’t hurt her. Please.” 


The whole coven was running now, except for a few who stayed behind - the truly brave (or truly stupid). 


One of the witches left behind gestured towards the girl. “Anna, let’s go.” 


She stood, staring coldly at the man in front of her in the eyes. “Why should we have to go? This is our place. They go.” 


“Anna’s your name, yeah?” Dean spoke softly, taking a step forward. “What are you doing? You’re what… thirteen, fourteen?” 


“Sixteen,” she retorted, disgusted with his interest. “Not that it’s any of your business.” 


And that - that sentence - was all it took to snap Dean back nearly seventeen years, standing in front of a tall blonde who went by Stacy. Dean had asked her name - which resulted in the answer “Stacy - not that it’s any of your business.” 


Now, standing in front of her, Dean could see pieces of Stacy poking out. Her high cheekbones, her thin figure, her stubby eyelashes. 


“Stacy,” Dean breathed, taken aback. 


“What did you just say?” She was fuming that the hunter knew her mother’s name - what had he done to her? 


“You… your mom is Stacy, isn’t she?” 


Sam put his hands completely down, turning towards Dean. 


“Kill him!” 


“WAIT,” Dean cries, trying not to escalate the situation. “Your dad, do you know him?” 


“Why the fuck do you care?” 


“Because I think I’m him.” 


Sam face reads complete disbelief as he glances between the two, realizing that the faces are almost identical. 


“What? No, he didn’t know my mom. It was a one-time thing.” 


“I know, believe me. My name is Dean.” 


“Dean?” she whispered, barely below her breath. “My name is Deanna… after my father.” 


“Listen, do you want to come with us? Grab a bite to eat or something?” 


“Why should I trust you?” 


“I can’t tell you why you should, other than that I’m a good guy and I really want to get to know you. Where is your mom? I could call her, I’m sure she’d remember me.” 


Anna stared at him a moment, completely quiet. “Okay, I’ll go.” 


“What?! He’s lying! Don’t go!” The two remaining witches are freaking out. 


“It’s my choice.” 


But then, Dean and Sam begin to choke. “Stop it!” They don’t stop, despite Anna’s protest. She looks down at Dean, squeezes her eyes shut, and mutters something. The witches fall to the ground and the boys catch their breath in their burning lungs. 


“Did you knock them out?” 


“No,” she says, and she begins walking - fast. “We need to go now.” 


Sam and Dean exchange glances. “Dude, are you sure you want to do this?” Sam asks. 


“No.” 


And that’s how Anna ended up in the back of the car, laughing at the coincidence of names between her and her paternal grandmother - and that’s how they end up talking about how Anna got into trouble, how she practiced witchcraft after her mother passed because she had no where else to go. The coven took her in when she was thirteen. 


She also mentions how her favorite books growing up were the Supernatural books. Sam and Dean are quiet for a moment before the younger brother bursts out laughing. “What?” She whines. “You don’t like them? Because I gotta say, Dean and an Impala? You’re practically living in the stories.” 


“My name is Sam,” he chuckled. 


“No way. No way there is that many coincidences in your life between you two and the books.” 


“For God’s sake, Anna, you were in a coven. You know what’s out there. Put two and two together.” 


She thinks hard and long for a moment. “I… what?” 


“The books are about us,” Dean finally says, not amused. “Hate those things.” 


“No.” 


“Yes.” 


She sits back, totally quiet. “So - so the angels, and God - that’s…” 


“Yep.” 


Completely astounded, she starts asking a million questions. 


“You have plenty of time for my dad stories, okay?” 


Finally, they get back to the bunker. Cas is reading and sipping on tea - something that Sam suggested to him so he’d relax - and he hears footsteps outside. His heart skips in the little pattern that only happens when he knows he’s about to be with Dean. 


“No way,” Anna says, totally quiet. “It’s real?” 


“Totally real.” 


The door opens, and Cas stands up, ready to greet his boys. Instead, he sees a mess of blonde locks step through the door. His heart breaks a little bit. He had misunderstood, of course - how stupid of him to think Dean could return his feelings - he was just being friends with him, not the other way around, and, oh god, thank god Cas hadn’t made his move… 


“Cas.” 


His heart leaped again, jumping in wild circles and dropping to his stomach, and he hated himself for it. He wanted to cut it out of his chest. 


“This is Deanna.” 


The girl turns around, and Dean’s eyes are peering at him. They’re a little different, in a way Cas can’t quite put his finger on it, but they’re that unmistakable green forest that Cas had never found in anyone else’s eyes. And suddenly, maybe the world isn’t so bad, he thinks, as the sinking feeling eases up and lets go of the death grip it had on his throat. 


“Mr. Novak?” Anna asks, carefully coming down the stairs to greet him.


“Jimmy Novak was my vessel. I am Castiel.” 


“Oh,” she said quietly, clearly a little bit disappointed. 


“You knew Jimmy?” Dean asks. He’s genuinely curious, hungry for knowledge. The girl sitting in front of him is… well, half of him. 


“Yeah, yeah. When I was young, my mom couldn’t afford a lot, and my friend Claire invited me to attend church with her. Once we got there, Mr. Novak - uhm, he was Claire’s dad - he, uh, he could tell we didn’t have a lot, and so he helped my mom out for a while. He became a dear friend of ours.” 


“That sounds like something Jimmy would have done,” Cas says quietly. 


“So - so can Jimmy - is he in there?” 


“I’m afraid not.” Anna’s face looked sad. “He’s in heaven, though.” 


“If there was anyone who deserved to go there, it would’ve been him,” she smiled. “And you’re… wait, you’re really Cas? From the books?” 


“Well, yes.” 


“Oh my god,” she said quietly. “I love you.” 


Cas was taken aback, never having heard the words. “Thank you.” 


Most people would take ‘thank you’ as a poor answer to an ‘I love you’, but Anna knew from the five shades of red that covered his face, and from the look in his eyes - he meant it, he was grateful. 


And, that first day, that was about all the interaction they had. However, everyone noticed that Anna was Cas’ little shadow. When they ate dinner, she took the same things as him, and she refused the same things he did. When they went to get pajamas for Anna, and Cas suggested the ugliest pair of pajamas that the boys had ever seen - Anna smiled and told him they were perfect. When Cas watched a show, Anna plopped down in front of him to watch, too. Suddenly, Dean’s late night arm cuddles were accompanied by his daughter’s laughter and equally cheesy jokes. 


In the following days, Anna brought Cas gifts - small pine cones she found that ‘looked interesting’, a plate of pancakes she made for him, small flowers that she tucked into his hair. Cas let her make flower chains and braids in his hair, and he kept them there all day. He put the pine cones on display on a shelf in Dean’s room that belonged to him. They shared the pancakes. 


Cas had never been treated so kindly. Everything he did was complimented - “That’s a great show!” “I like your tie today.” :Your eyes are gorgeous!” “Wow! You have really great taste.” 


And every time, Cas’ cheeks would turn bright red and he would fumble for words. “I - I, just, uhm - thank - thank you, you also have nice… nice preferences.” 


Cas wasn’t used to being admired. He had been told over and over that he was useless, expendable. So when he became a father figure to the small girl, Cas was flustered all of the time. He got especially flustered when Anna would tell him “love you” so casually - “goodnight, Cas, love you” or “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, love you.” He felt showered with attention. 


At first, it made Cas uncomfortable. The amount of affection jarred him. However, pretty soon, Cas became a little more used to his fumbling about and her compliments - so used to it that he started giving again, too. 


When he walked through the kitchen door one morning, Anna told him how heavenly his pancakes tasted. The next time Dean passed by, Cas told him how lovely he smelled. And when Sam sat beside him that night, Cas didn’t hesitate to tell him how smart he was. 


Still, any time anyone gave Cas affection, it made him turn bright red and fall over his own words - but giving became easier and easier for him. He started looking in mirrors differently, and instead of seeing a tired, broken angel, he saw himself as a hero, as a strong provider, as the man with the “beautiful ocean eyes”, as Anna had put it. 


Dean loved to watch the two together. Anna adored Cas, and Cas protected her fiercely. 


One time, when they were at a restaurant, a man walked up to Anna. He was middle aged. “Hey, you like to play?” He gestured at her violin case. 


“Yeah,” she answered. 


“I’ve got a studio at my place. Want to come check it out? I could hook you up with the business.” 


“I’m only sixteen,” Anna answered him. 


“No problem. Let’s go.” 


Before she could answer, Cas wrapped an arm around her. “She doesn’t want to go.” 


“Oh, come on, what are you, her dad?” 


“No.” 


“Then you don’t get to speak for her.” 


“She isn’t going with you.” 


The man picked up Anna’s violin. “Come on, gorgeous. My car is just outside.” 


“Put down her violin. Now.” 


But he didn’t put it down, and instead, he put his hand on Anna’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Come on, baby, don’t listen to this loser.” 


Dean came back from the restroom just in time to see Cas’ fist land squarely on the guy’s nose. He can’t say he wasn’t thankful for what the angel did, but he didn’t tell anybody that. 

——————————————

“Hey dad?” 


Dean stopped what he was doing, shocked to hear the word ‘dad’ coming from her mouth. “Yeah?” 


“Why don’t you tell Cas that you love him?” 

anonymous asked:

this is the 'you're cute' anon, and i feel i must revise my earlier statement: you're fucking adorable. how is it possible. what is your secret

shitty.joke.jpg

If I ever make a point-and-click adventure game I’ll introduce a bit where the player character is forced to pick up some kind of reddish-purple root vegetables. They will not look so well. In fact it would be pretty obvious there is some malady upon them and that they should not be consumed under any circumstance.

They would lug them around in their inventory for a sizable portion of the game and indubitably wonder - and be frustrated by the question - exactly what purpose do these pestilent, diseased veggies serve? They would try to use them in various puzzles with a varying degree of logic and fail, and whatever happens to the character, they just wouldn’t be able to get rid of them - until at a crucial juncture of the plot when picking the things up is all but forgotten, they would be challenged to a rap-off.

And then, finally, the terrible realization will dawn upon the player that this entire elaborate gag was orchestrated simply so that at the exact right moment, they’ll be able to drop some seriously ill beets.

3

“We, the mages of the Tohsaka family, are skilled at the ‘transformation of power.’ We pour our magical energy into jewels whenever we have free time.

Haven’t you ever heard that people’s thoughts tend to go into jewels? In practice, jewels are easy targets to transfer magical energy into, but it seems my family is even more compatible than most.

To put it simply, the jewels are the bullets, and we are the gun.”

Happy Birthday, Tohsaka Rin! || 03.02.2015

Brandy

Summary: For Ash’s Round 3 Negan Challenge, this fills in the Bartender!Negan slot. While Negan prefers Brandy over Sherry any day, neither truly hold his heart.

Word Count:   7144

Genre: Romance and Angst

Warnings: Foul Language, Sexual Imagery and Language, Negan being Himself as Always, Smut-ish at one point, Comic Spoilers about Lucille

Author’s Note: This is a one-shot and yes, I was inspired a lot by that song from Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2.  It’s “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl)” by Looking Glass

Author: @genevievedarcygranger

Tagging: just for those that I think would be interested @purplemuse89 @backseat-negan @ladylorelitany @ofdragonsanddreams16 @alyisdead @collette04 @noodlecupcakes @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @i-am-negan-trash @asshatry

“There’s a port on a western bay,
And it serves a hundred ships a day.
Lonely sailors pass the time away,
And talk about their homes.”

Nothing much ever happened in the small town of Sanctuary, Virginia. It was one of the reasons why Brandy left as soon as she could and went all the way to the University of Georgia for college. Once she graduated though, Brandy was at a loss of where to go, so she came all the way back up here. She didn’t plan on staying long, just long enough to form a plan of action and follow it.

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we’re playing rock paper scissors? any other stipulations? how many rocks and/or scissors am I allowed to each battle, assuming class specs limits me to using one weapon. How much paper. is it a stack of paper? I suppose it would depend on the dimensions of my opponent’s rock, if I were choosing paper that is, has anyone seen my pen, am I allowed a pen, do we need a scorekeeper, does that interfere with the stipulations of the ‘paper’ class. does rock have good base def stats? whats the DPS for scissors. are we allowed to duel wield