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#I am tired and going to bed

sastiel-is-my-serotonin · 10 months

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Imagining Team Free Will 2.0 having a minecraft server just for them. Sam runs it. And it's on easy. Sam's decision after some quit rages... Nearly put it on peaceful.

And Dean's the reason they had to disable tnt, and fire. Castiel is partially the problem too. With getting annoyed with things and just blowing them up. Occasionally, the group agrees they should use tnt, for certain things, but most of the time it's off.

Sometimes it goes on peaceful when Dean tries to spawn a bunch of withers on people's bases. Or builds. He asks why he can't blow everything up and Sam reminds him he can do that on a world of his own but Dean says it's not the same thing.

Sam wouldn't mind it if he didn't always target Jack's builds. Which he spends a lot of time on. So, no ammo for Dean.

Castiel likes to wander a lot. Are they good at staying alive? No. They are not. But it's okay. They have fun trying to find every animal in the game and bringing it back over to their base.

Sam dabbles in everything, building, mining, farming, goofing around. He's not the best at any of them, youtube tutorials are his best friend. But he's having fun.

Dean grinds to try and be op, but it doesn't matter when he dies and loses his stuff a lot. So he grinds a lot. Sometimes going into others Bases and trying to steal/get rid of their op items. He fails a lot since ender chests. He likes to try and combat Sam but often loses, being bad at PVP. Unless he catches Sam off guard on low health, he loses.

Jack is the best builder. Who will pretty much do anything for specific blocks or items for them. He watches a lot of minecraft videos and gets inspired by them. He's the one who ends up knowing a lot of random minecraft trivia and tricks because of that.

He has the best gear and tools just to help him. He's the one who beat the ender dragon for wings to fly but also chorus fruit for end rods. He's the not careful one in the game, but has the best luck and skill to avoid death.

There's been times where Sam will log off, both Castiel and Jack on, and when he wakes up and logs back in, they're still on.

Dean would probably have a random skin he found online, most likely a random girl skin because he thinks it's funny.

I am cracking up at the idea of Castiel using a mumbo jumbo skin because of the suit. Just taking the mustache off and calling it a day. (even better if the mustache stays lol)

Sam and Jack. I'm unsure of what skins they'd have. I think Jack would get like a onesie type of skin. Like a panda one or something.

Sam probably would try and get a skin that looks like him, I think.

If any of them were to make their own skin it would be Jack. Maybe Sam. I think Castiel would try but not like the process. Dean doesn't even bother entertaining that idea.

Also, Jack would love the sniffer. And has a house full of pets.

Those are my minecraft thoughts with spn.

#I am tired and going to bed #Maybe I'll write something about this one day and what happens when they allow others to join #Maybe #I don't know what I'm saying so I going to sleep #sam winchester #castiel #dean winchester #jack kline #sastiel #samstiel #team free will 2.0

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desertduality · 3 months

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gigs phasmo but the ghost is just confused mumbo jumbo

physically unable to write a snippet so here's a whole oneshot AKJSDKJ I hope you like it!! Personally I had a ton of fun lmao

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The house was nice, as far as haunted locations went. The flowers out front were dead, sure, but that was probably on account of their caretaker being dead as well.

The neighbors had been the ones to call this address in, claiming that although the owner of the property had died quite some months ago, lights frequently turned on and off in the house. The police had been by several times to check for intruders, and had come up empty every time. Finally, some desperate neighbor had given in and called paranormal investigators.

So there they were, Impulse pulling up on the curb just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Prime ghost hunting time, for some reason; Scar hadn’t really paid attention to the science and research when he’d signed up for the job. Besides, the other three had all that handled quite nicely. Scar was just along for the ride.

“Scar, you know what you’re doing?” Impulse asked, grabbing a flashlight off the wall and clipping his walkie onto his belt.

“Sir, yes sir!” Scar quipped, scanning the gear for his usual fare. “One paraba-dolical microphone coming up.”

“Grab a thermometer, too,” Impulse suggested, clapping him on the shoulder on his way out of the van. “Let’s try to keep this one clean! The company is running low on cursed items with resurrection abilities.”

“I know for a fact we’ve made the biggest dent in that,” Skizz’s voice crackled out of the walkie, changing to a slight echo as he presumably walked in the house.

“Why do you sound proud of that?” Grian asked, speaking into the radio as he grabbed a salt canister. Scar snickered, reaching over him to grab the thermometer.

“We’ve got a record going, man! No one can stop us!”

“You have to admire his positivity,” Scar said brightly, clicking his flashlight to make sure it worked.

“Yeah, I guess he’s got that going for him,” Grian replied, giving a short wave as he left the van. “See you on the inside, Scar.”

Scar gave a jaunty wave, doing one last check on his equipment before starting after him. A voice cut him off before he could leave.

“Did anyone check the name?” Impulse asked, and Scar turned around to squint at the corkboard, eyes catching on the top.

Huh. Interesting.

Scar clicked the talk button on his walkie. “Looks like… Mumbo Jumbo?”

There was a long pause, and Scar almost thought they had missed it somehow. Then the response came.

“Scar,” Grian said, sounding tiredly amused. “If you can’t pronounce it, don’t just make something up.”

“No, It— It literally says Mumbo Jumbo,” Scar replied, glancing up to double check. “Don’t make me waste a photo to prove it. I will, you know I will.”

“Don’t, Scar,” Impulse jumped in, so quickly that the start of his sentence cut out. “We believe you.”

“Get in here before I come and drag you, Face,” Skizz chimed in, and Scar rolled his eyes with a chuckle, stepping out of the van.

The house was warmer than the air outside, so Scar took that as a sign that someone had gotten to the fuse box. He wandered around with the paradabolic microphone for a few minutes, watching closely for big leaps in the readings. Eventually, Impulse called out from upstairs, claiming that he’d found the room. Scar hurried towards him, making it there just in time to watch him set up the video camera, fiddling with the tripod and muttering complaints about its stability.

The room was a bedroom, a large bed against one wall and a shelf full of dead plants on the other. Everything was covered with a thin layer of dust, but that was pretty usual. Obviously no one had been keeping up with the cleaning.

“Anyone done spirit box?” Grian asked, and Scar jumped and whirled around, finding him in the doorway. Grian giggled, and Scar huffed.

“Not yet,” Impulse said, finally getting the tripod to settle. He looked over at them. “Want us to leave?”

“Not really,” Grian grumbled, starting to power up the spirit box. “But yes.”

Scar walked out of the door and Impulse followed him, closing it and leaving Grian in the room alone. Immediately, they heard the telltale singing introduction of Grian beginning to ask questions. The rest of the house was quiet. So far, everything had been entirely unremarkable.

“I’m going to go grab D.O.T.S and a book,” Impulse spoke suddenly, starting to walk away. “Maybe you could start grabbing some stuff for a polty pile?”

“Sure, will do,” Scar said, and started picking up objects from the table in the hallway. A lot of picture frames and spare wires, for whatever reason.

Grian opened the door to the room just as Scar arrived with his arms full, and Scar tilted his head at the odd look on the other’s face. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was wearing a faint frown.

“What’s wrong?” Scar asked, curious. Normally, Grian came out of a spirit box session with wide eyes and immediately ran to the van. This was out of character.

“I think…” Grian started, contemplative frown getting more pronounced. “I think the ghost apologized to me.”

“...huh?”

“I asked where it was,” Grian said, spirit box slack in his hand. “And then it said something, and then I screamed, and then it— I could have sworn it said sorry. Like, for scaring me.”

“Oh,” Scar said, tilting his head. “Has that happened before?”

Grian shook his head slowly, staring at the spirit box for a minute before exhaling forcefully. “Let’s just keep going,” he said, shoving the device in his pocket. “We still have a job to do.” Then, into his walkie: “We’ve got spirit box, guys. One thing down.”

They kept doing their jobs like they normally would, but none of them could quite shake the sense of something being different.

Usually, the haunted locations they visited had a foreboding sort of feeling to them. They get in and out of those places as soon as possible, the feeling of imminent danger settling on their shoulders like a heavy jacket. There was none of that, here. It was obviously haunted, but it still just felt like... a house. It didn’t feel malicious at all.

Impulse put a book down, and writing appeared a few minutes later. Just a single sentence, asking if they would water the plants on their way out.

They laid down D.O.T.S and stayed out in the van for a while, eventually seeing a tall, hazy figure pass quickly through.

They caught ghost orbs on the video surveillance.

Impulse took the Ultraviolet flashlight and found fingerprints on the side of the video camera, like the ghost had been curious about it.

The salt Grian had placed on the ground was smeared and scattered, almost as if the ghost had slipped on it instead of stepped in it.

“If we discovered some new type of ghost,” Grian said eventually, muffled through his own hands covering his face, after hours of pouring over the conflicting evidence. “I am going to be upset.”

“None of this makes sense!” Impulse complained, flipping through the research journal that Scar had never touched. He was scowling at the pages like they’d personally offended him. “It won’t even hunt!”

“He seems kinda friendly,” Scar said, staring at the steady line of the EMF reader on the screen. “The poor guy just wants his plants watered. I don’t even have the heart to tell him that it probably wouldn’t help. Those things are dead dead.”

Impulse’s head thunked down on the table in front of him. “We’re so fired.”

In the silence following that statement, Skizz burst into the van, holding an object aloft in celebration.

“I found it!” Skizz yelled triumphantly, the wrinkly figure of the monkey paw clutched in his hand. “It fell behind some boxes. I told you it was here.”

“Oooh,” Scar said, rushing over in excitement. “What should we wish for?”

“A quick death?” Grian said flatly.

Scar waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve had too many of those. It gets kind of boring, believe it or not.”

“Let’s just wish to see it,” Impulse said, heaving himself up from his hunched position by the monitor. “We’ve done everything else we could do, let’s just do it.”

“Sure, why not,” Grian said, shrugging. “Let’s go out in a blaze of glory, then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Skizz laughed, and together the four of them marched back into the house.

The room was exactly as they’d left it, and Impulse took a moment to turn off the D.O.T.S. Then they stood in a loose circle, tense and determined. Whatever was happening here, it would be over soon. One way or the other. Maybe the company wouldn’t even bother to bring them back, this time.

Skizz held the monkey paw aloft, dim light casting dramatic shadows on his face. “I wish to see the ghost!”

A finger on the monkey paw cracked and groaned as it bent down, and a chill swept across the room, quick and encompassing. Their flashlights flickered, and then died, leaving them in complete darkness. For a long moment, the only sound was their chorus of quick and shaky breathing.

When the lights turned back on, Scar was face to face with a ghost. A ghost that looked equally as startled as he was.

Scar yelped and stumbled backwards, tripping over the open book on the ground and hurtling towards the bed. The ghost — a tall man with dark hair and an absolutely wonderful mustache — lunged forward and reached out as if to catch him, eyes wide and panicked. To be fair to the dead man, it absolutely would have worked if his hands were still a tangible thing; As it were, his attempt at grabbing Scar to keep him upright was rather rudely foiled by his outstretched hand passing right through Scar’s flailing arm.

Scar hit the bed with a grunt as various cries of alarm sounded out around him, light bouncing around the room haphazardly as the sound of clattering reached his ears; someone had dropped their flashlight, apparently. Scar laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, dazed.

“Oh gosh! I’m so— I didn’t mean to pop in like that, I—”

Scar looked up just in time to watch a crucifix fly through the air and pass harmlessly through the ghost’s head, hitting the wall with a thud and falling gracelessly to the floor. The ghost yelped and ducked — much too late, not that it mattered, anyway — and Scar’s gaze next landed on Grian, still standing there with his arm extended in a throwing motion, hand empty and eyes wide.

“What was that gonna do, G?!” Skizz asked hysterically, fumbling for his camera, accidentally snapping a picture of his own face and swearing when the light blinded him.

Impulse had knocked over the tripod in all of the chaos, and was now frantically attempting to set it back upright. The ghost — Mumbo Jumbo — turned his anxious eyes on Scar, who for once was struck speechless, jaw slack.

“Are you alright, mate?” Mumbo Jumbo asked, hands fidgeting together. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but— Well, you summoned me. There’s only so much to be done for that.”

With everyone else still scrambling about the room, Scar allowed himself a few seconds to process things. Most ghosts they’d come across — all of them, actually — had been nothing less than murderous and bloodthirsty. The cordial ghost of a perfectly normal man was not something they had been trained for, but that didn’t exactly mean that it was impossible. Sure, maybe it had come way, way out of left field, but Scar prided himself on rolling with the punches. He pushed himself up from the bed with a sheepish, charming smile.

“It’s all good,” Scar said, bright and friendly. “For sure our fault, we summoned you and got surprised when you showed up. Kind of rude of us, I think. Your mattress is super comfortable, by the way.”

Mumbo Jumbo blinked, as if surprised by the onslaught of words, a confused little furrow appearing between his brows. “Thank you?” he said, glancing behind him at the bed. “It was…expensive.”

“I mean, hey! We spend a lot of our lifetime in a bed, right? Might as well shell out some cash for quality.”

“What are we doing?” Grian asked quickly, almost like he was talking to himself, hands pressed to his head in utter bafflement. “This is insane, what is happening.”

“Grian! Don’t be rude,” Scar admonished playfully, then turned back to grin at the ghost. “Mumbo Jumbo, right?”

The man nodded faintly. “Just…Mumbo is fine.”

“Sweet! I’m Scar,” Scar said, and then started pointing to his friends, all standing stock still in various stages of shock and confusion. “The rude one who throws stuff is Grian, that’s Impulse by the window, and over there is Skizz!”

“Nice to meet you?” Mumbo said, glancing around nervously. “I would offer to shake your hand, but…”

“God, this is weird,” Skizz blurted, eyes still wide but starting to relax his stance. “You do know you’re dead, right? We never actually get to ask any of the ghosts we meet.”

“Oh, I— Yeah, I’m well aware,” Mumbo said, laughing a little. “You’ve met other ghosts, then?”

“We’re ghost hunters,” Impulse said, and now that the shock was fading, Scar could see a spark of excitement in his eyes. “But I mean— We’ve never met any like you.”

“Mostly they want to kill us,” Grian said, stepping up next to Scar. “Are you sure you don’t want to kill us?”

“I don’t think I know how, much less want to,” Mumbo said, glancing out the window. “Did someone call you to find me? I’ve been trying not to scare anyone, but I suppose the lights might’ve done me in.”

“Yeah, that was pretty much what tipped them off,” Scar said apologetically. “A few too many weird things happen and boom, here we are.”

“What happens now?” Mumbo asked, chuckling nervously. “I mean, you found me. Job done, yeah?”

“Usually we figure out what type of ghost it is and the company sends out a specialized team to evict it,” Impulse answered, brow pinched in thought. “But normally that’s for safety reasons. You don’t seem like a threat. No offense.”

“Oh, none taken.”

“Can I ask how you died?” Skizz asked, eyes alight with curiosity.

“Skizz,” Grian hissed. “You can’t just ask people how they died!”

“I was just wondering!”

“No, it’s— it’s fine,” Mumbo stuttered, and Scar had a feeling that if ghosts could blush, he would be doing it. “I… fell down the stairs.”

Scar nodded solemnly. “Could have happened to anyone.”

“So what are we actually going to do about this?” Grian asked, vaguely gesturing at the room. “It feels like it would be wrong to kick this guy out of his own house. He’s not really causing trouble.”

“Yeah, I— I do like my house,” Mumbo interjected, awkward smile on his face. “I’d rather stay, if that’s alright.”

“Someone’s bound to move in eventually, you know,” Skizz said, pitying frown on his face. “There’s already a for sale sign in the yard. The new owners might not be super ghost-friendly.”

Mumbo’s shoulders slumped, a dejected look on his face as he frowned at the floor. Scar felt a pang of sympathy grow in his chest, and he glanced out the window at the rows of houses down the street.

It really was quite a nice neighborhood.

“...You know,” Scar started, gaze drifting over to Grian, a slow smile forming on his face. “Our lease is almost up.”

Grian looked over at him, eyes already resigned, and sighed.

Scar laughed, grinning, and Mumbo slowly smiled back.

#this let me practice my ability to write silly fun things AKSJDKJ it was a blast actually :]#thank you for the prompt anon!! I hope i brought your vision to life aksjdk #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #grian #skizzleman #impulsesv #mumbo jumbo #my writing #writing request #now that this is finished i am going to go to bed <33 #might post this on ao3 later but rn i'm tired <3

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goatsandgangsters · 1 year

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succession has always been genre-defying and convention breaking, but killing the main character 15 minutes into only the 3rd episode of the season throws all television convention out the window

which is not only a bold choice, but it’s what makes the episode so effective. almost everyone watching has said they experienced a prolonged disbelief. there’s no way. no way. and it’s not just the denial that comes with loss and death, but denial because this isn’t when you kill a character, this isn’t how you kill a character. it flies in the face of everything we know about storytelling convention. we don’t believe it. is tom joking. is logan manipulating them. where’s the body, we need to see the body. is he going to make a miraculous recovery at the end of the episode?

and like the denial and the slow-dawning horror of realization that the kids are experiencing, we the audience experience it too. not as spectators, but as participants. because we had the rug pulled out from our Audience Expectations, just as the kids had the rug pulled out from them by The Random Suddenness of Tragedy.

if this had been the cliffhanger at the end of an episode or a season finale—the times when you’re Allowed to kill a main character—we would have only been spectators. but by tipping storytelling convention on its head and breaking all the rules, they brought us along on that same journey of denial and disbelief. the same impossibility of it. the same confused “wait, like this?”

it took logan’s death outside the bounds of storytelling and the safety of well-known plot beats. instead, it made us sit with the uncertainty and denial and confusion and raw grief of the random mundanity of death.

#succession #succession spoilers #logan roy #I'm about to go to bed and I am VERY tired #in no small part because that was ONE HELL OF A RIDE #but I had to get my thoughts out Now #lots of people saying lots of smart things rn but #EXTREMELY effective way to break convention

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shower-phantom-ideas · 6 months

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I would like the record to stand that I don’t think the waynes think Danny is some sort of hot twink guy. Just the cutiest lil dude ever.

I want them to see his hero persona (give that boy a mask) and fantasise over how cute or hot they think he will be.

They hear his voice. They see his actions. His strength. And assume hes gonna be babe material.

Later it happens. The reveal. And hes just some guy. Just a dude. I mean it’s gonna be shellshock for them. No one but Damian is shocked cause they all assumed his looks would be face and upper body model levels. Bruce probably was thinking the poor lil guy was covered in bruises and injuries but didn’t know about our kids healing factor.

I stan pristine danny who only gets scars from ghost hunting equipment. And that dissection.

Let them over look Fenton cause hes too normal. Let them not even consider him cause hes so scrawny. Too much like a human child.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #still not the catboy post I know I know im just tired today #also no one was in my house but I didn’t look. I just went to bed and turned the tv all the way up #incase they wanted to sneak back out #nothing was missing I don’t think #I did wale up at midnight though which is t the norm #I normally wake up at two am from nightmares lmao #ghost related nightmares cause im a pusspuss ahen it comes to ghosts #it’s why my activity comes in waves #anyway im gonna take a nap then go to salsaritas for chips

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badboychaser · 2 months

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Cover art I did for the recent Morro Winds-of-Change Zine!!! Small essay and link to the zine undercut vvv

Many of the writing and art styles were amazing to watch overtime while this zine was in production. The stylization of how a character is depicted can really show the inner thoughts and workings of how a character such as Morro can be portrayed in the eyes of another.

It was super fun to work on and fans coming together to make a collaboration on one of their favorite characters really shows how much love can be in the Ninjago community despite the rough patches we’ve been through over time. Hopefully with enough support (like we’ve already gotten!) a second zine could happen in the future.

#going back to bed I am tired #Ninjago #morro #winds of change zine #my art

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curiosity-killed · 2 months

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dreaming saint

[ALT ID: A digital illustration of Vash from Trigun. The canvas is composed of a frame within a frame. The center frame is the view through Ship 5's arboretum, showing space and two falling stars streaking across the sky in parallel. The outer panel shows Gunsmoke's five moons and vivid orange sand dunes. Vash spills out of the center frame into the outer one. He's seen mostly from the back, turning away from the viewer with his gun held low in his prosthetic hand.]

#if u saw me upload a slightly different version a little bit ago no u didn't <3 #vash the stampede #vash #trigun art #my art #okay i may now. for realsies. go to bed at 9 pm #i am. SO tired

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ask-the-totally-real-peppino · 11 months

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Wait why would you need to say sorry to Noisette?

Pep: "..."

Pep: "Reh ot deil I... I..."

(Flashback Begins)

Noisette: "Is someone out here? We are open!"

Noisette: "Omigosh, hi there!!! Come in, come in! There's no need to be shy!"

Noisette: "You're just in time for some fresh pie! Not that it was gonna go anywhere, since no one's come in today... But still! If that growl was you, you must be starving!!!"

Noisette: "Now you just sit right here! Don't move an inch! I'll be right back!"

Noisette: "Tada!!! I hope you like cherries! It's on the house!"

Pep: "...?"

Noisette: "Are you asking if it's for you? Of course, it is, silly! D'you see anyone else in here? Now, eat up! There's plenty more where that came from!"