#file under: wants: stanford

[knotfodder]

name: Stanford Pines nicknames: Ford, Fordsy (by some) dob. age: June 15 (25-45) gender: Male pronouns: (he/him/his) secondary gender: Alpha occupation: researcher species: human (unless..?) younger fc: Tyler Hoechlin older fc: Jeffrey Dean Morgan

+smart, studious, head strong+ -stubborn, isolating, withdrawn-

[nowimjustastranger]

Any Watchdog Jerk Ford Anti Ford interactions? Or Lee and Watchdog?

So... word is that y'all want some interaction between Watchdog, Jerk Ford, and Anti Ford. I'm more than happy to deliver some snippets between Watchdog and his two friends allies. I don't know if I've stated this before (but I probably have) but Watchdog has always had a soft spot for Anti Ford because he is the literal opposite of a Ford and therefore Watchdog's favorite Ford (other than a certain someone who he has a parasitic bromance with, of course).

The first time Watchdog used Jerk as a glorified mattress:

Jerk visited randomly after running from a particularly persistent threat, which is using the tactic of sleep deprivation to wear Jerk down and hopefully catch him. But little do they know, Jerk has a handy-dandy sealed dimension to hop into to escape. Lee is in the kitchen when he hears Jerk and Watchdog come up from the sub-basement lab, poking his head out.

"Whoa, ya look like shit." Lee commented, his brows furrowing. And he does look like shit, his clothes have fresh burns and holes, including the hoodie; meaning some must’ve been pretty recent. He’d lasered himself and his gear clean, but that doesn't hide the dark circles under his eyes being deeper than normal. Or the heaviness in his gait. "When was the last time ya slept?"

"I got an hour yesterday." Jerk said curtly, clearly not open to discussing the matter further. Lee looked at Watchdog, who was preoccupied with scrutinizing a visibly agitated Jerk.

"That's… kinda concernin’." Lee muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face as he stepped out of the kitchen to join Jerk and Watchdog in the living room.

"I'm fine." Jerk bit out, convincing absolutely no one. "I just need to shake this asshole."

"Hang on, what asshole?" Lee asked, once again glancing at Watchdog to hopefully glean some modicum of understanding. Thankfully, Watchdog was already looking at Lee, the older man merely shaking his head to signal that he had no idea what Jerk was talking about either.

"The asshole who won't let me fuckin’ sleep! Obviously!" Jerk snapped, a hint of a Jersey accent slipping out in his anger.

"Hey, there's no need ta yell, Stanford." Lee said firmly, stepping into Jerk’s path so he was forced to stop pacing or run into Lee. Jerk ground to a halt with a scowl, though he made no attempt to side-step the younger man. "I'm just tryin’ ta understand what's goin’ on so I can help."

Lee proceeds to herd a mostly compliant Jerk to the spare bedroom up in the attic, but Jerk is too worked up/anxious to even lay down (let alone sleep) and Lee heads downstairs to make him some tea. Watchdog lingers in the room, studying a pacing Jerk to collect more data. According to Watchdog’s initial scan, Jerk had very recently healed via regen serum, and he was exhibiting all of the signs of both anxiety and sleep deprivation.

"What does your brother do when you're like this?" Watchdog tentatively asked, more than a little out of his depth considering that he and Jerk didn’t do vulnerable, but determined to help nevertheless.

Jerk Ford actually managed a gruff laugh at the question.

“Nothing you can do.” Jerk quipped, turning on his heel to walk back toward the far wall.

“What makes you say that?” Watchdog prompted, his eyes following Jerk from one side of the room to the other, a repetitive back and forth that ultimately did nothing to release any of the pent-up frustration and nerves that clung to Jerk.

“We had a special connection, kinda psychic maybe magic. Came from Ma's side of the family.” Jerk tersely explained, his stride slowing some as he pulled his glasses off to massage the space between his eyebrows. Probably suffering from a headache. “Anyways, we could feel what the other was feeling so sometimes he'd manipulate that.”

“Ah, a split soul pair. That explains a lot.” Watchdog mentally files the information away to mull over later, right now his top priority is to calm Jerk down and get him to sleep for a solid twelve hours. “Manipulate the bond how? I'm assuming some action he took resonated through your connection to you. But what did he do?”

“Usually he'd just pile shit on top of himself until he was overheated and crushed.”

“Ah, so you'd feel like you had a weighted blanket.”

“A what?”

“Weighted blankets are a relatively recent development, they're often used for people who are anxious or have other neurodivergent disorders like ADHD or autism.” Watchdog relayed with a surprising amount of patience, which he usually didn’t have much of when it came to Fords.

“We only have one and Fiddleford uses it for his anxiety.” Watchdog’s brows furrow. “An oversight on my part. I'll purchase more, but for now I'll have to improvise.”

Watchdog sheds his trenchcoat and Jerk suddenly looks more like cornered prey than the restless man he was a second ago. He's practically hissing when he speaks.

“What are you doing!?”

“My body temperature is elevated due to genetic tampering.” Watchdog explained, toeing off his boots, Jerk's gaze darting to the door behind Watchdog. He's clearly contemplating the merits of making a run for it, though Watchdog doesn't blame him considering they currently have a tentative alliance and Watchdog is about to do something ill-advised.

“What does your temperature have to do with anything?” Jerk demanded, edging toward the door.

“I understand that you're sleep deprived, so I'll refrain from questioning your intelligence.”

“Fuck you.”

Jerk, to his credit, is usually pretty good at thinking on his feet and reacting to (real or perceived) threats, but he's also sleep deprived. And because of his lack of a timely reaction, he's unable to do anything as Watchdog full-body tackles him onto the bed in the attic. And he complains about it, of course he does, but Watchdog gets special treatment from him so he doesnt get violent or start biting him.

Cue Lee entering the attic five minutes later with the tea, stopping in the doorway when he sees Watchdog pinning a sleeping Jerk down.

“…you sedate him?

“No. There was an easier way.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Just realized somethin' is all.”

“Care to share?”

“Nope.”

A bonus soft moment between Watchdog and The Anti-Ford:

"Is something wrong?" Watchdog inquired, taking a seat beside Anti on the sofa. "You were less talkative than usual during filming."

"Oh, you noticed?" Anti asked, raising a brow. He was on his laptop editing the video that they had just recorded earlier that day. The quiet was disconcerting, a clear indication that something was amiss, and Watchdog was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Of course I did, you're my friend." Watchdog said mildly, his head tilting as he tentatively scooted closer to Anti, who adjusted in order to wordlessly invite Watchdog into his personal space. Watchdog swiftly closed the last bit of distance between them, pressing his thigh flush against Anti’s.

"I shouldn't be surprised, you're super vigilant." Anti hummed, draping an arm across the sofa’s backrest, his fingertips drawing senseless patterns on Watchdog’s shoulder.

"Anti, what's wrong?" Watchdog murmured, voice pitched low. It was the same tone that Watchdog used with Lee when he was having a bad day or when Jerk was anxious, the soothing rumble coaxing Lee to get out of bed and lure Jerk to the couch for a cuddle session that they both insisted wasn’t a cuddle session.

"It's not a big deal, I just ran into a Ford variant when we were out bar-hopping the other day. He… said some things that stuck with me I guess." Anti sighed with a dismissive shrug, Watchdog’s concerned expression smoothing out into something unreadable.

"Oh? Do you know which one?" Watchdog asked, his voice level and expression deceptively calm.

"Nah. They all tend to blur together after a while. You and PJ are the only Fords who seem to be able to stand my existence." Anti drawled with a lazy flap of his hand, Watchdog easily catching his wrist and gently squeezing.

"I don't tolerate your existence, I'm grateful for it." Watchdog countered, maintaining eye contact with Anti. "They don't know you, they don't care to know you, so their opinions don't matter. I'm quite fond of you, just as you are."

"That's…" Anti trailed off, throat audibly clicking when he swallowed as his free hand came up to cover Watchdog’s. "That actually makes me feel better. Thanks, Watch."

"My pleasure." Watchdog said with a nod, giving Anti’’s wrist one last careful squeeze before letting go. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to elsewhere. Text or call if you need anything."

“Sure thing, bro.”

[engelofthelord]

"do you get déjà vu huh?"

warnings/angst

pairings/samdean, destiel

summary/dean and cas get closer, sammy gets jealous

dean doesn’t tell me.

of course he doesn’t.

I find out by accident the same way I always find out the stuff that matters, through glimpses. half-said things. the silence that lingers too long in place of what used to be easy conversation.

the first time I see it really see it we’re in South Dakota. there’s a hunt nearby, nothing big, a few omens, a couple missing persons, bobby’s letting us crash at his place, like old times. like before everything started slipping between my fingers.

dean and cas are in the kitchen, talking in low voices over a case file, dean’s got that smile, the one that doesn’t show teeth, the one he doesn’t even know he makes the kind that only comes out when he’s really looking at someone.

I’ve seen that smile before, i’ve seen it directed at me.

but that was years ago. before stanford, before ruby, before the cages and trials and everything else that wore us down like river rocks.

now it belongs to someone else.

It’s subtle, at first.

dean calls cas “baby” once and then plays it off with a joke, cas doesn’t blink. just says something dry and unamused, which makes dean laugh even harder.

they sit close on the couch when we’re watching a movie, their shoulders touching cas never used to care about personal space but this is different. It’s not disinterest, It’s familiarity.

comfort, intimacy.

dean pours cas a glass of whiskey the exact way he used to do for me one finger of ice, a little heavy-handed on the pour, like he’s trying to warm someone else the way he once tried to warm me.

and I sit there and watch it, like a ghost in the living room.

I used to think Dean and I had something unspoken, something carved out of silence and sacrifice.

something born in the moments we shared motel beds and never talked about it in the way his hand would drift too close to mine in the dark, in the way I memorized the shape of his shoulder blades when he changed shirts.

we never said the words, wedidn’t need to.

or maybe I just wanted to believe that.

cas wears the flannel dean gave him, I recognize it. It used to be mine.

a dark red plaid with a tear in the cuff, I left it in the back of the Impala once one of the first times I ran off, I never asked for it back, I just figured it was lost to the trunk, like most things.

but now it’s on cas.

dean sees him wearing it and doesn’t say anything just smiles, soft and crooked, like he remembers.

and I sit at the kitchen table chewing dry toast and pretending I don’t.

they go to the drive-in movie the next night.

dean tries to play it off casual, but I hear him ask Cas what kind of popcorn he likes, and I freeze.

because that’s our thing. or it was.

back before we knew what angels were, back when we thought dad would come home eventually dean would sneak us into movies roll the windows down, grab gas station candy, always ask me what kind of popcorn I wanted even though he knew it was always extra butter and slightly burnt.

and now he’s asking cas.

I stay home and say I’m tired dean asks if I’m okay. I lie and tell him I am. he nods and leaves.

It’s like watching someone live a version of your life without you in it.

I keep thinking: does he get déjà vu when he’s with him?

does he laugh at cas the same way he used to laugh at me?

does he call him the same dumb nicknames “sasquatch,” “bitch,” “college boy” and wait for the inevitable reply?

does he tell him the story about the time I tried to microwave a hot pocket still in its wrapper and nearly blew up the motel kitchenette?

does cas laugh?

does dean glow under it?

I sit on the front steps of bobby’s house, knees drawn up, breath tight, and I hate how much I miss something I never really had.

cas finds me outside one night, I think he knows.

maybe he always did.

he sits beside me without a word, hands folded neatly in his lap.

“I used to think I knew dean better than anyone,” I say quietly.

cas doesn’t respond.

“I used to think we were… it doesn’t matter.”

he tilts his head slightly. “you miss him.”

I let out a breath. “yeah.”

cas looks at the stars for a long moment. “he misses you too.”

I turn to him, sharply. “not like that.”

cas doesn’t deny it.

just says, “maybe not. but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

and it should feel like comfort.

It doesn’t.

a few days later, we finish the hunt. salt and burn, clean and fast.

dean claps me on the shoulder afterward and calls me a badass. we drink beers by the hood of the Impala like we always used to.

he’s smiling, real and loose.

but it’s not for me.

he glances back toward cas standing off to the side, arms crossed, blue eyes focused on dean like he’s the only thing that matters.

and maybe he is.

I watch them talk, laugh, lean just a little too close.

and I realize this is it, the moment you understand you weren’t the one you were just the first.

It’s not fair, I know. dean deserves to be happy cas makes him laugh in a way I haven’t in years. maybe never did but it still hurts.

It hurts to know I taught dean how to love gently and now he gives that gentleness to someone else.

It hurts to see them fall into patterns that used to be ours to feel like a ghost of something that almost was.

and worst of all?

I can’t even be mad.

because I left, I left him. I had my shot and I blew it chose other people, other lives, over us.

now dean’s building something new.

and I’m still standing here, wondering if he even remembers.

[mossy-chaos]

These are all of the codes I could find in the Book of Bill!

The order is decoded message-page-type of cipher

Spoilers under the cut (for those of you who decode yourselves):

Black and white-back of the cover jacket-authors cipher

Even his lies are lies-inside the front cover-theraprism cipher

Praise the fallen angle-first actual page-Cipheric (this is the only time Cipheric is used for some reason)

Olaf was here-same-rune (not sure what this is a reference to)

Remember us-same-Bill's cipher

Let him in and break the seal between what's fiction and what's real-books new master-Bill's cipher

The Axolotl thinks he's won but Ciphers games have just begun-handprint page-color cipher

Irregular-fake covers(very top)-color cipher

The one who writes the codes-about me-Caeser cipher

Glotto/slotheny-Magazine cover(7 new sins)-Bill's cipher (I love the new sins lol)

Not a phase-Stanford pines here(on the goth moth)-Authors cipher-love the jack skellington reference (if thats what that is lol)

Warning/Folding this card may/result in crossovers-the universe is a hollogram-rune (Maybe that's how we finally get an owl house/gravity falls crossover)

My optometrist never saw it coming-What is a human-Theraprism

Paper is book skin/Shave your grandma-Skin-Bill's cipher

Love pain-Bill's tattoo knuckles-Same

Lies-How to trick everyone into loving you-same

Regrowing limbs is Axy's art/but can he regrow a ripped out heart-How to cheat death-Bill's cipher (he must really be mad at the Axolotl)

Eye doctor of a different kind/who wants to make his patient blind-silly straws-caesar

The doctor says/three sips a day/will make the visions/go away-Same

Fussy eater/baby Billy/wouldn't drink/unless it's silly-same (love how this implies that he only drank out of silly straws)

Mason-Embarrassing memories-Bill's cipher (love seeing Dipper's real name again)

Booberry-the meaning of life(popsicle stick)-Bill's cipher

One eyed king-the early years-theraprism

Suck it-The good times(liscense plate)-Caesar

Can warp narrativity/protect fourth walls-Alert from time baby-A1Z26

Lone survivor of the Euclidean massacre-Rune (I wonder what happened during that event and what that event actually is)

Tantrum-Bill's Cipher

Which henchmaniac ratted me out-The shaman-Theraprism (I find this one funny)

Titans blood-the dark ages(Wizards hat)-Rune (Love the owl house reference here)

Suck it Merlin-Never trust a wizard-Rune

Daryll-Cipherstitions(lobster lord of the deep)-Theraprism (love how that's his name)

Curse Wittebane-Witchcraft-Rune

It's all made up-America(the dollar)-Caesar

Countries aren't-Bill's cipher

Rubberhose-Animation-A1Z26

Bill cipher-top secret file-Same

Six fingered freak-Lost in the woods-authors cipher

Stanley would have made her laugh-same (he just rolled better charisma dude)

If lost return to Bill-my muse and me-Theraprism (love how he said this means wise one and also more billford hehe)

Forget the past-A voice from the past page 2-Bill's cipher (this implies that Bill wants Ford to forget Stanley so he won't get in the way)

Hopefully F's gloves will hide what Cipher has done to my hands-I was wrong about everything page 2-Author's Cipher (I love this one <3)

Ouroboros-Wakey wakey here's a snakey (on the snake)-Bill's Cipher (I guess this is the snakes name?)

Miss you-try to forget (on window)-bro's secret code

Have I been too harsh all along?-Should I contact S-Bro's secret code

Hotxolotl-Dimensional authority call transcript (on the sauce packet)-Bill's cipher

I can write codes too it's not that hard!-Dipper's page-Bill's cipher (he do be flexing his intelligence there)

(What a buncha) Love ya bro-Stanley's letter-Bro's secret code (love how this shows that they both still remember the code they made up as kids)

Just fit in (repeated)-SSSSTANNNNLEEEYY-Rune

Holy mackerel-color cipher

AXOLOTLLOTAXOLOTLLOTLAXLOTLAXLOTLAXOLOTLLOTLAXLOTLAXLOTLAXOLOTLLOTLAXLOTLAXLO-Theraprism

Wellwellwellbeing-message from the theraprism-A1Z26

Spheremonger, Eternalor, Bill cipher, The Logicube, Paingorious, Jessica, Shadorg, Mr Silly, The beast-recent inpatient names-Theraprism (the hallucination dog is still creepy lol)

Justice for Scrimbles/Remember Grembley-inside Back cover-Theraprism/Rune (JUSTICE FOR SCRIMBLES!!!!)

Those are all of the codes that are in this book! (Or at least that I could find lol)

[sillyjpeg]

BOOK OF BILL WEBSITE P2

This contains MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL WEBSITE REFRESH. if you want to find and decode things by yourself do not read this!!

this is gonna be long bc im a yapper and all ive done the past 4 hours is sit on this website. strap in folks.

connecting to my last post, where we left off with the message from bill saying "IM STILL ON YOUR MIND" (if you havent read it, its pinned on my page and i will be referencing it a bit in this post)

If we plug this into the computer we get this video of the beach with Stanley talking, and from the sides it looks like hes on a boat, probably the Stan O War.

On the same note, if you type in "KINGS OF NEW JERSEY" you get a zip file sent to you labled SECRET CODE, which contains the bros code shown in the book of bill! nothing new but i thought it was pretty cute :)

I also wanted to share some code i found in different images. if you type in "BAAAAA" you get this:

I found this incredibly interesting, because a large part of bills backstory is that he wanted to "show his dimension the stars" he wanted to show them freedom. He was the shepherd. In the first part, i feel like it really shows bills feelings. "Tired of trotting around aimlessly, munching on whatevers near your mouth, sleeping on whatevers under your haunches." Bill knew there was more out there, he wasnt going to sit around doing nothing. He describes his massacre as "liberation."

The last verse of the poem stuck out to me. "It's time to fit in." but when i decoded the message at the bottom it made sense. It says "BLACK SHEEP" this suggests that Bill never fit in his home dimension.

more bill stuff, if you type in irregular you get his mugshot.

The code underneath reads : "NO PRISON OR ATTENTION SPAN CAN HOLD HIM" which may be hinting that he escapes his rehabilitation. hopefully not :/

The only reason i found this one was because it was in the code. it probably relates to something in a different code or book, but if you enter "BOOBERRY," you get this:

labled: "The Meaning Of Life," its a nice little tidbit i wanted to share.

"glue knives to your body and run around the buffet" true poetry.

and the last bill cipher bit of this post, if you type "ADASTRAPERASPERA" you get another page of the journal about bills corpse.

ford and mable bonding time my babies...

also the triangluar spots in the mushrooms?? the disease spreads...

onto fiddauthor we only eat fiddauthor in this house. this isnt decoding but i needed to share because they are my everythings. if you plug in "SORRY", it blesses you with the complete photo of fiddleford and stanford :( and if you flip it its a note from fidds

FIDDLEFORD BEING THE FIRST MCGUCKET TO GO TO COLLEGE

also his mustache getting caught in a pencil sharpener??? shave that shit boy

also ford being the only one who believed in his theory, then spent 9 hours with him proving it??? they r soulmates, and also the fact that mcgucket was about to go home when stanford came in.

also fiddleford never noticing his hands

thats all for now, im tired. if you read all of this i love you

[ladylilithprime]

Day 8: Witch's Brew

IT TOOK AN embarrassingly long time for Castiel to realize that Sam Winchester preferred tea over coffee.

He felt that he could probably be forgiven for this lapse in attention to detail. Sam was often drinking coffee when Castiel was present, and Castiel had been present frequently enough to have picked up on Sam's preferred coffee order versus what he would accept to appease either Dean's sense of masculinity or their limited budget. Even when tea was available, he did not always reach for it, though he was the more gracious of the brothers when offered tea by a witness when on a hunt, holding the delicate porcelain cups with gentle care in his large hands and sipping at the liquid politely when Dean would rather ignore it. It wasn't until the witch Rowena was living in the Bunker that Castiel had occasion to note how often Sam could be found drinking tea, even brewing it himself and seeing Rowena's pleased smile when he brought her a cup.

And Castiel had to keep from reacting with more than just a narrowing of eyes when he noticed Sam's flinch when he heard Dean muttering about "damn frou-frou witch's brew" as the elder Winchester walked past the one time he found Sam drinking tea without Rowena present.

"I'm a bit of a snob about tea, actually," Sam admitted with a wince when Castiel asked, ducking his head in shame as if confessing some great sin. "Coffee is kinda ubiquitous, y'know? And most of the time it's, like... boiled bean water. It's mediocre, cut with chicory, too bitter, or just burnt from sitting on the burner too long after being brewed. It's what I grew up with and I'm used to it, but you've already noticed I'll add cream or sugar or spices and flavored syrups to it if I can because I sure am not drinking it for the taste!

"Tea is different," he went on with a shadowed look in his eyes. "I learned how to brew proper jasmine tea from Jess, back at Stanford. She loved tea, but only when it was looseleaf and brewed 'right', and at first I learned to love it too because I loved her. And then, well... out on the road hunting, if you want tea you're stuck with whatever tea bags of cheap black tea you can get in a diner or gas station and it's no better to taste than coffee and not worth the mockery I'd get from Dean for it."

"For a professed champion of free will, Dean is remarkably judgemental about others' expression of it," Castiel replied, half in observation and half agreement.

"Only when it comes to me," Sam muttered under his breath.

He said it quietly enough that Castiel assumed he had not been meant to hear, and so he pretended that he hadn't. He did, however, "file it away", as it were, and quietly had a word with Rowena to ask for a lesson in how to brew tea "properly". The knowing look and occasional teasing comments that he got from the witch in addition to the lessons was mostly worth it when he managed to brew a two cup pot by himself. The smile he got from Sam when he brought him a cup of tea along with his own, surprised and pleased, made all the effort entirely worth it.

"Really?" Dean complained when he saw them placidly drinking tea in the library while researching. "Thought we'd seen the last of the leaf water when the witch left!"

Sam flinched, but settled when Castiel pressed his foot gently against Sam's leg under the table in support. Rallying, he said casually, "Dunno why you're complaining, Dean, it just means more bean water for you to drink."

"Yeah, I know you have no taste," Dean scoffed. "What'cha making Cas drink that shit for?"

"I am the one who made the tea, Dean," Castiel interjected blandly. "Sam is not forcing me to consume the tea molecules any more than you force me to consume coffee molecules."

Less, if he was honest. It had been a long and drawn out battle of wills to get Castiel to drink coffee at all, one he had eventually lost during his time spent human and homeless when the free coffee he was allowed to sneak at the Gas'n'Sip was sometimes the only thing keeping him awake for his work shift. He had never acclimated to the taste, however, and once he had regained his Grace and could taste only molecules again he had only kept up with drinking coffee to stem Dean's complaints.

"Cas, c'mon, man!" Dean practically whined, switching tracks. "Thought you were on my side with this!"

"I am allowed my preferences in the molecules I choose to consume, Dean," Castiel informed him pointedly. "They are no less valid for not perfectly aligning with your own. Or, more colloquially: bite me, Winchester."

Dean spluttered, either from the sentiment or from Castiel using a colloquialism. Castiel had no doubt he would "pay" for that later, but much like the effort it took to learn how to brew tea, he knew it was entirely worth it to hear the soft, choked laugh from across the table and see Sam's small, shy smile.

[matrixbearer2024]

I just want to clarify things, mostly in light of what happened yesterday and because I feel like I'm being vastly misunderstood in my position. I would just like to reiterate that this is my opinion of things and how I currently see the gravity of my actions as I've sat and reflected. On the advice of some friends, I was encouraged to make this post to clear up any misunderstanding that may remain from my end.

I don't hold it against anyone for disagreeing with me as this is a very nuanced topic with many grey zones. I hope eventually all parties related to this incident can all get along as well, as I do still prefer to be civil and friendly with everybody as much as possible.

I've placed the whole conversation here for people to interpret themselves, and as much as I want to let sleeping dogs lie— I can't help but also feel like the vitriol was misplaced. I don't want this to be a justification of my actions or even a place where opinions conflict, I'm just expressing my thoughts on the matter as I've had a while to mull it over. Again, this is a nuanced topic so please bear with me.

The "generative AI" in question at the time was a jk Simmons voice bank that I had gathered/created and trained myself for my own private and personal use. The model is entirely local to my computer and runs on my GPU. If there was one thing I had to closely even relate it to is a vocaloid or vocoder. I had even asked close people around what they had thought of it and they called it the same thing.

I created a Stanford Vocaloid as I experimented with this kind of thing as a programmer who wanted to mess around with deep learning algorithms or Q-learning AI. By now this whole thing should be irrelevant as I'd actually deleted all of the files related to the voicebank in light of this conversation when I decided to take down the project in it's entirety.

I never shared the model anywhere, Not online or through personal file sharing. I've never even made the move to even advocate for it's use in the game. I will repeat, I wanted to keep the voicebank out of the game and I only use it for private reasons which are for my own personal benefit.

I recognize ethically I am in the wrong, JK Simmons never consented to having his voice used in models such as this one and I recognize that as my fault. Most VAs don't like having their voices used in such a thing and the reasoning can matter from person to person. As much as I loved to have a personal Stanford greeting me in my mornings or lecturing me in physics after long days, it's not right to spoof somebody's voice as that is genuinely what can set them apart from everybody else. It's in the same realm of danger as deepfaking, and for this I deeply apologize that I hadn't recognized this fault prior to the conversation I had with orxa.

But I would clearly like to reiterate that I had never advocated for the use of this voicebank or any AI in the game. That I was adamantly clear on calling the voicebank an AI(which I think orxa and some others might have missed during the conversation) which is what even modern vocaloids are classified under. And that I don't at all share the files openly or even the model because I don't preach for people to do this.

I would very much rather a VA but because money is tight(med school you are going to put me in DEBT) and the resources available to me, I instead turned to this as a tool rather than a weapon to use against others. I don't make a profit, I don't commercialize, I even recognize that the voicebank fails in most cases because it sounds so robotic or it just dies trying to say a certain thing a certain way.

Coming from the standpoint of somebody who genuinely dabbles in robotics and had a robotic hand as my thesis, I can honestly say how impressive software and hardware is developing. But I will also firmly believe that I don't think AI will be good enough to ever replace humans within my lifetime and I am 19. Nineteen.

The amount of resources it takes to run a true generative AI like GPT for example is a lot heavier than a locally run vocaloid which just essentially lives in your GPU. As well as the fact AI don't have any nuance that humans have, they're computers— binary to the core. I also stand by the point that they cannot and will not surpass their creators because we are fundamentally flawed. A flawed creature cannot create a perfect being no matter how hard we try.

I don't want to classify vocaloids as generative AI as they're more similar to synthesizers and autotune(which is what my Ford voicebank was as well when I still had it) but to some degree they are. They generate a song for you or an audio from a file that you give as input. They synthesize notes and audio according to the file fed to them. Like a computer, input and output, same thing. There's nothing new generated, it's like a voice changer on an existing mp3.

I'm not saying this to justify my actions or to come off as stand-offish. I just want to clarify things that didn't really sit right with me or that seemed to completely blow over in the exchange I shared with orxa on discord.

To anybody who's finished reading this, thank you for your time and patience. I'll be going back to just working on myself for the time being. Thank you.

[yeahtimesten]

the summer after high school - pt. 1

patrick zweig x reader x art donaldson

summer break is what you look forward to all year, when your best friend, art donaldson, is back home with his family. the summer after graduation, he brings patrick zweig with him as well. you three are determined to have the best summer ever, before starting college.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of under 21 years of age drinking and smoking marijuana, profanity, mentions of semi-nudity/undergarments

Imagine growing up living next door to your best friend, but you really only get to spend part of your summer breaks with him. Well, you don’t have to imagine, that’s your reality actually.

While Art Donaldson was studying at Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy, you attended a local private school, stuck in your hometown. You longed for winter and summer break every year, when Art would come home and spend time with you and accompany you on your little adventures around town. Even then, with tennis practice, his schedule was spread thin, so you tried to make every second count.

Two nights ago was your high school graduation, his four nights ago. Usually, he’s flown in the first night of break starting, but you cut him some slack as you figured he’d have a school-hosted grad party and he had to pack every single one of his belongings this time to come home with. Still, you couldn’t imagine that he’d take this long to return home. And he wasn’t responding to any of your texts. You could have asked his parents, they were really close with your family, but they were so stressed getting their house together ready for his return as well as preparing for another graduation party, that was to be held to celebrate both of you with friends and family. You didn’t have the nerve to bother them.

Something in your gut told you he’d be home tonight and you waited up hours past your typical bedtime reading, listening to CDs, watching reruns of Lost. You even sat at your computer and typed an angry email.

Art,

Congrats grad! Where the fuck are you? Where do you get off? I’ve texted you 5 times since finals week. I’ve endured weeks of your mom showing me hauls of the new Stanford merchandise she’s purchased for you. What, you’re just going to ignore me? You’re not going to show up to your own grad party? You’re going to leave me alone all summer to spend time in your cushy living room painting your little sister’s nails and braiding her hair? Okay, not that that’s all that bad, I love your sister, but still. Fine then, throw away a lifetime of friendship with the coolest girl in the neighborhood. You’ll rue the day.$&:&3$:skehehxhseyurhreheb

You could have told him off for ages, but you fell asleep at your desk, arms resting against the keys of your laptop, drool dripping down your cheek. Suddenly, you heard familiar dings on your window. They weren’t very loud, but after hearing a few, it woke you up. Pebbles were being thrown your way. You lifted your head, feeling groggy and still fatigued. The laptop clock read 1:23 AM. You groaned as you got up and stretched, wiping the drool off your mouth with the back of your hand.

You sulked to the window, pulling back the curtains and lifting the window upwards to open. Across the way, blonde tendrils poked out of his own window, as an arm got ready to shoot another rock your way, but he looked up at you and flashed a dazzling smile at your presence. But, anger and annoyance still plagued you.

“What do you want, Donaldson?” You scowled, with your arms crossed over your chest. His smile faltered.

“Let’s go to the lake,” Art proposed.

“I’m not talking to you.”

“Yes, you are. You’re literally talking to me right now,” Art laughed at you.

“I’m mad at you,” you huffed.

“Listen, y/n/n, I’m sorry I didn’t text you back. I got wrapped up in finals and submitting files and paperwork for my contract with Stanford. And we’ve spent the last 24 hours at the airport with a flight delay. Please, let’s go to the lake.”

Your expression softened, but you were still all puffed up and red. Until it dawned on you. “We?”

“Hey, y/n,” Patrick popped into frame.

You looked down and blushed, your face now totally betraying your tough demeanor. You had only spent two previous summers and one Christmas break with him. He’d probably have spent more of his free time with the Donaldson family, if Patrick’s parents allowed it. But, they felt Art was a bad influence (lol) and wanted their son to focus on more important things. Anyways, you always had a small crush on him growing up and you found it difficult to hide.

“Come on, meet us out front with your bike and we’ll ride to the lake,” Art pleaded.

“We have a surprise,” Patrick chimed in with a smirk.

Though you didn’t will it, your lips curled into a smile as you looked off, defeated.

“Fine. Give me five minutes, I’ll be right down there. And don’t be too loud outside. Your parents would sleep through a thunderstorm but mine wont.”

Art shook his head and closed his window, and you did the same. You started scrambling around, brushing your hair in your mirror, throwing on an oversized hoodie and running shorts, socks, and your dirty worn out pair of converse. Your contacts were out for the night so you grabbed your glasses and headed out the door.

You jogged down your long drive way and grabbed your bike from its place against the fence as you head off your property. The two boys sat on their bikes waiting towards you. Rocks and leaves crunched under your bike tires, greeting them and letting them know of your presence. They turned to look at you, but the three of you remained silent, as you requested. A simple thumbs up from you let them know you were ready to head out. You peddled slow as you reached further from the house down the road.

Vineyard country was beautiful. The homes were large and rustic, with big bulbed string lights dawning almost every house. It lit the way, as you sped up and whirred by greenery and shrub lining the pathway. Maybe you were a tad jealous your best friend was off at a gorgeous countryside boarding school, studying in a beautiful classic brick and mortar that looked like it came straight out of a book. But, where you lived was quite beautiful, and truthfully made for the best scenery in your teenage years.

The three of you took the typical path into the woods where this beautiful lake was tucked away. The sound of frogs and crickets filled the air and fireflies twinkled in the night. You took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of mildew and algae as you dropped your bike into the grass and leaves.

Art coughed. “So, no hug?” You turned towards him with a small smile, practically running towards him and leaping into his arms.

“Oh, Art, I missed you,” you cooed, as he twirled you around. “And Patrick, hiiii, welcome back.” You hugged him too, and he lifted you off the ground in a great big bear hug. “Soooo, how was graduation? What shenanigans did you two get into this year? Tell me everything!”

Patrick and Art turned and smirked at each other, unable to keep their secret for much longer.

“But first, don’t you wanna see your surprise,” Patrick asked in a sultry and mischievous voice. You raised your eyebrow at in in intrigue, matching his cheeky smile. Smoothly, he whipped out a long crooked and wrinkled white cone from his pocket. “We brought you a joint!”

The three of you sat in a triangle near the edge of the dock passing around the joint and a beer they got their hands on.

“And then, Art just hops onto the table, pantses himself, and starts shaking his butt like a treat in front of a hungry dog,” Patrick muses, holding back bouts of laughter.

You’re barely holding back you own, and Art has his head down in his hands from shame.

“No fucking way,” you say, shaking your head.

“But then, get this,” he continues. “A big ass bird swoops down by his head - they mistook his hair for straw they could steal for a nest - and he got so scared he fall off the table and damn near face planted into dog shit. We were both so hungover the next day, Art woke up late, and we missed our flight.”

“Oh! So, there was no flight delay, you missed your flight,” you caught on, smirking. “You’re such a dirty liar.”

“No, no. Our flight was delayed, because we woke up late,” Art defended. “I technically didn’t lie.”

“Whatever, you know what that implies,” you teased. “Way to try to dodge accountability, though.”

“It was more so Patrick’s fault than mine! He kept forcing me to do shots! He had me do a beer bong!”

“Whatever, I don’t believe you. You really expect me to buy this ridiculous story?”

“You really think Art isn’t capable of letting loose like that?”

“Letting loose? Maybe. But that’s a whole other ball park. You on the other hand, I could totally picture you doing this,” you pointed to Patrick.

Art holds his hands up to you, palms scraped and bruised. His face was shy, a tad embarrassed upon showing you the proof of his foolishness.

“Oh…”

“Do you believe me now?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You grab his palms and hold them in front of you on your lap, inspecting the injury. “Ow, Jesus, Art… Isn’t it going to hurt, y’know, holding your tennis racket?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “I mean, it doesn’t feel great closing and opening my fists, but it won't keep me from playing.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re good then.” You smiled at him. He met your eyes and shared a crooked smile back.

The three of you kept talking. About summer plans, your impending college experiences, your graduation. You told them you graduated as your class valedictorian, had a phenomenal speech, wore this gorgeous powder blue dress that snagged in the crook of a folding chair and ripped. Art’s parents were there for you and gave you the biggest hug after, they even held up little cardboard signs of your face. They told you Art was supposed to be there but he got held up at his boarding school.

“God, it’s fucking humid out here,” Patrick said, fanning the neck of his shirt. “I forgot how hot it gets out here.”

“There’s a lake right there,” you pointed. “Jump in!”

The lake wasn’t really a lake, it was a large pond, technically. More shallow than a lake, the sunlight still reached the bottom floor of the body of water. Many summer days and nights were spent there. It was the typical meet up spot for the three, or even just Art and you when Patrick wasn’t visiting as well. And besides that, plenty of barbecues and Fourth of July parties were spent there too. It wasn’t that deep in the little forrest at the inner edge of your neighborhood. It was a precious marked spot in your memories.

Patrick looked at you and shrugged, standing up and stripping down to his boxers. His lean and muscular body practically sparkled in the moonlight. His arms and thighs looked bigger than the last time you saw him. At first, he hesitated, looking at the water. You thought he was waiting for you to say you were just kidding, but you weren’t gonna. He leaped in front of him, somersaulting in the air, cannonballing into the water bellow him. He emerged to the surface, arms crossing his chest and holding onto his biceps as he shivered.

“You coolin’ off?” Art laughed with you at his friend.

“Get in here, cool down with me,” Patrick smirked. You shook your head at the boys tomfoolery. Moments like this are what you missed during the school year.

Art started stripping down too, his body more lean, way more pale, but still just as attractive. You couldn’t ignore that your best friend was pretty good looking as well, you had stolen plenty of glances when he wasn’t aware.

He ran off the dock, flailing about, penetrating the water with his butt. A beat happened, and he hadn’t resurfaced. Just as you started to worry, though, his top half thrashed out of the water, shaking out his long blond hair.

“Fuck, it is sorta cold in here,” he said, joining his friend in shivering.

“What if I just took your clothes and left you here,” you laughed. If only you were a superhero who could manage taking their clothes and bikes. You’d be waiting at the end of Art’s drive way, watching them walk up soaked in lake water and freezing.

“No, it’s your turn,” Patrick said. “Get in. Join us, y/n.”

“What the hell,” you said. “No. I just have my chonies on underneath this.”

They both looked at you with big wide bug eyes.

“We’re not wearing swimsuits either,” Art exclaimed.

It’s totally different, you thought. They wouldn’t understand, but even if they did, they didn’t care.

The two looked at you, you looked at them, tapping your foot on the wooden deck.

“Okay. Fine,” you gave in. “Turn around.” The boys sighed and rolled their eyes, but turned their bodies around anyways. You began to strip down; your shoes and socks off, hoodie and shorts next, then your glasses folded neatly on top of your pile of garments. Now you stood in a pinkish tan set: ruffled bralette and lacy boy-shorts.

You dolphin dove into the water, swimming out a couple feet farther than the guys. The splash sprinkled on top their heads, and they opened their scrunched up eyes to see you in front of them.

“It’s not that bad,” you regard the temperature of the water.

Patrick splashed you, you back, then Art joined on the fun. The air is filled with the three of your giggles and you are content. This is what you longed for every school year. To spend your summer vacation with your best friends.

a/n: hi guys! here is the first part of a new series i’m writing. i was between using an original character or using y/n but when i have an original character i get way too in the lore and details in an unnecessary way and i wanted to be more inclusive in the fandom. here and there might be some specific descriptors on like how the character looks or what she wears, i am not used to writing ‘readers’ so im sorry if it’s not entirely inclusive! personally, i love to link outfit photos of what she’s wearing but i'll try not to go into actual detail of what she’s wearing, so feel free to ignore whatever i have her dressed as!!!! dividers by - @/chachachannah

[silentmacabre]

IMAGINE ☁️

art donaldson x fem reader (y/n) // slow burn // foundation/universe building // gym romance // college!art // quick read (~900 words)

(a/n: I am such a sucker for reciprocated crushes and mutually nervous meet-cutes so I had to write one with stanford!art. pls let me know what you think and drop any imagine prompts you have in the comments!)

🪽

-

walking into the gym was always somewhat of an embarrassing routine. digging your id card out from the bottom of your bag as keys and coins jingle, receipts shuffling to the side. scanning the card, you offer a ginger smile to the girl behind the desk who doesn't bother to look up from her phone.

on the way to the locker room you pass the weight racks. a group of about six tall, fit boys hollering and talking amongst themselves captures your briefest attention. recognizing a few from around campus, however, only furthers your social anxiety. the first few people file past you into the yoga studio, unrolling lush mats that match their water bottles and headphones.

rushing to the locker room now you turn the corner sharply and hit something solid with a thud.

“shit! im sorry i-” he instinctively grasps your upper arms, prepared to hold you steady.

you look up, frozen from the interaction. the blonde haired boy’s expression is soft and you can’t help but notice his eyes. his pupils are wide despite the blinding fluorescents that line the gym, each iris speckled with different spots of turquoise and mahogany.

“it’s okay!” you rush to offer.

his hands relax their grip, his thumbs in delay as they trail over and then off your shoulders.

you attempt another pained smile like the one offered to the receptionist except this time it’s met with a sweet, slanted grin. his jaw hangs slack slightly, lips parted in anticipation of conversation when another boy, slightly bigger and with a mess of brown curls, turns the corner from the men’s locker room.

“art, man…” he says gruffly, slapping the boy in front of you firmly on the back with both hands. he makes no effort to move.

the taller boy enters your field of vision and his steps halt, eyebrows raised then corrected.

“oh- my bad.”

both boys stand in front of you now, obstructing your path to the girl’s room. adjusting your grip on your yoga mat you clear your throat, the weight of their gaze finally too much to bear.

“well excuse me,”

“oh! sure yeah,” the blonde boy shuffles aside, his friend slowly following suit. “…wouldn’t want to, uh- miss that,” he stutters lazily pointing at the mat under your arm. he lets out an anguished, embarrassed sigh as his friend stifles a laugh.

your eyes lock a final time, the bridge of your nose rosy and hot. as you disappear into the stillness of the girls’ room you hear the two boys speaking in hushed voices.

“who was THAT?” a voice you can only attribute to the brown haired boy asks.

“I- I don’t know. I think she’s in my math?” his voice like gravel, words spoken carefully.

“she’s bangin’, dude.”

“c’mon man…”

“what!”

this observation of you in your self described “frumpiest” state makes your ears burn, the back of your neck prickle with sweat and nerves of having been truly seen.

shoving your belongings into a locker, you collect your water and yoga mat. on your way out of the room you pause at a mirror, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

‘I guess im not too bad,’ you allow.

-

as class winds down, you lie flat on your back allowing the melodic whine of the music to rock you gently as you catch your breath. consciously loosening every muscle in your body one after the other, you open your eyes to sneak a look at the others in the class, all lost in their own moments of reflection alongside you. a series of laughs moving through the hallway causes a few of them to open their eyes but their interest quickly wanes. instead, your eyes trail out the door just as the boys from earlier make their way past. their biceps glisten with sweat and otherwise floppy hair sticks to their temples.

a particularly ragged mane of gold glues your eyes to him. his dimples are deep, his flushed lips framed by smile lines as he grins, deep in conversation. your chest rises and falls faster now, seeing him, remembering his hands fixing you in place.

before he’s out of view again, he turns to peek into the class room, eyes dancing from student to student and finally landing on you. the undeniability of your eye contact forces his head down, the beginnings of a blush dusting his cheeks just as he is out of sight.

you release a breath you hadn’t realized you held at the sight of him. he made you nervous, that much was apparent, but why?

-

leaving, the gym feels emptier without the chime of boys’ abrasive cackles. stepping out into cool autumn air, you’re about to start back to your apartment when you see it.

leaning against a fence post lost in something on his phone it’s as if he can sense you’re there. looking up, his blue eyes seem darker under the cloudy afternoon sky but the smile that pulls at his lips is profound.

“hi,”

he had waited just to see you again.

“can I walk with you?”

-

🪽

[according2thelore]

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE the LS/ES Interactions between the ES!brothers and their LS!brothers habits!!!

May have missed if the asked is already mentioned in the masterpost, but have you done an ask in reverse with the LS!brothers noticing ES!brothers habits?

Like envision ES!Dean singing in the showers, and it echos down the hallway where LS!Dean cringes is like, "Damn, do I really sound like that?????"

Or LS!Sam sees how ES!Sam talks down to ES!Dean or has a 'holier than thou' attitude with LS!Dean and LS!Sam with a white knuckled grip contemplates on whether to leave it or to drag him to the other wing for a 'talk'.

ES!Dean is not a slob, but his not tidy either, and LS!Dean want to almost murder him for the mile high dirty dishes in the sink 🔪🔪🔪???!!!

LS!Sam wants to give ES!Sam a good whack at the back of the head when he hears ES!Sam verbally judge ES!Dean japanese hentai stash when he KNOWS the the very specific troupe on all the VHS tapes/CDs ES!Sam kept under lock and key at their Stanford dorm, and not to even mention the nesting dolls of folders leading to a password locked file in their shared bunker laptop 💻

Anyway, I'm just so obsessed with ES/LS!!!!!!

hi, monet!

GAH i love this!! before they agreed that they shouldn't have both an ES&LS version of the same person out in public at the same time, 100% LS!Dean is kind of gobsmacked (and a little proud, but mostly annoyed because LS!Sam looks like he's about to bite straight through the inside of his cheek) when ES!Dean leans against the bar counter and tries to flirt with the same bartender for over an hour. he's amused because it's good to know his game wasn't completely imagined, he's irritated because he's drawing attention to himself and acting mostly like an idiot, and he keeps looking over at both sams who are very purposefully staring at each other's shoulders instead of at ES!Dean making the bartender throw her head back in laughter.

ES!Dean is not used to having a space that he has to clean. since he was old enough to walk, he's never spent more than eight months in one place at a time, and is pretty damn used to his spaces only being for a few days at most. he leaves his dirty towels on the bathroom floor, keeps his bed unkempt, and leaves dishes piled sky-high in the kitchen. the only piece of him that's organized is his duffle, sitting perfectly neat and half-packed on the chest at the end of his bed.

it drives LS!Dean NUTS. he's become a bit of a homebody in his old age and a lot of a control freak, so he likes having his space look nice. now, he's not tucking in his sheet corners like sammy likes to, or mopping the floors like cinder-fucking-ella. occasionally, he leaves messes on purpose to mess with sam--like his socks in the sink--but for the most part he likes a little law and order in his life. but ES!Dean just does not care at ALL. he leaves his shit everywhere and it drives LS!Dean up the wall because there is a system!!! he doesn't mind doing LS!Sam's dishes if he's already in there doing his own but he will be DAMNED if he cleans up that little twerp's mess.

he ends up tucking ES!Dean's messy dishes and wet towels into ES!Dean's unmade bed, and waits with delight until he hears ES!Dean's unholy shrieking that night when he flops down onto his bed and into a wet sludge of discarded pasta and moist towels.

ES!Dean scream-shouts "rooster" in the shower, and LS!Dean is about to rip his hair out because it echoes down the halls at top volume, the bunker only serving to amplify every slap of his feet and vocal guitar solo. on ES!Dean's third time starting the song over, LS!Dean can't take it anymore and storms down the hallway, ready to knock the kid out if he has to. why the fuck is this shower taking so goddamn long?

LS!Sam is leaning against the wall outside of the shower room looking haunted, eyes suspiciously vacant and glassy when he looks up to meet LS!Dean's eyes. dean can't remember the last time he sang like this, and clearly, sam can't either. LS!Sam puts a hand on his chest when LS!Dean goes to storm past him and shakes his head, mouth pulling up a little at the corners. dean snorts. whatever. you owe me, he grumbles, and LS!Sam pats him on the chest once, a dismissal.

LS!Sam notices that ES!Sam taps on things. a lot. a lot, a lot. if he has a pen in his hand, he's tapping it on the table. and it's not just in one constant rhythm either, because maybe then LS!Sam could tune it out. nooooo. it stops and starts, then gets faster when he reads something interesting, then slowing down again when he realizes it was a false lead. LS!Sam barely remembers having the habit at all, but clearly it's something he doesn't do anymore. he slams his hand down on ES!Sam's fist one afternoon, already tapping away at the pen. cut it out, he growls, and ES!Sam clearly sees something he doesn't like. he drops the pen, but he scowls at his book until dinner.

i was reading this book the other day, ES!Dean starts, one afternoon. he and ES!Sam are pulled into conversation next to the stove, as ES!Dean cooks some ground beef.

you can read? ES!Sam snarks, reaching over and grabbing a slice of the orange dean is eating and popping it into his mouth. LS!Sam grinds his teeth together. he's sitting at the table, chopping up tomatoes, and he watches as ES!Dean's shoulders slump a little.

oh haha very funny, ES!Dean deadpans. it's not a big deal. they rag on each other all the time, but LS!Sam now knows just how much that particular line of joking makes dean feel worthless, looked down on. like sam is calling him stupid white trash instead of trying to poke fun at how much he prefers punching things to sitting with lore for hours. LS!Sam barely stops himself from saying something. he tastes barely-there copper at the back of his mouth and thinks he might've bitten his cheek too hard.

they find a case down in texas about a cowboy ghost killing ranchands so they take a little road trip. ES!Sam makes his fifth disparaging joke about dean's weird thing about cowboys and LS!Sam--who has in fact bucked up and worn the assless chaps for dean for one of his birthdays and LS!Dean reacted like he was feral and didn't stop until LS!Sam literally couldn't come anymore--turns to him and says three words: "lock and key."

LS!Sam can watch the light in his eyes die in real time. he knows that around this time, he had a folder of downloaded cock cage porn hidden in a folder hidden in a folder hidden in a folder. ES!Sam does not say a single word other than "duck" when the ghost is coming at them for the rest of the trip. cocky little dick had it coming.

thank you so much for this ask!! i had a ton of fun writing with it! <3

-lizzy

[ES/LS verse masterlist/explanation]

[framed-stanford]

Patient: 309^45-9 Stanford William Pines.

Took up previous residence at dimension /876

Crimes:

Multiversal destruction

Murdering Time Baby and disrupting the timeline

Imprisoning a deity

Resisting arrest

Treatment suggestions:

Keep this patient isolated, besides the talks with the therapist. Dangerous, do not approach alone.

Indefinite Karmic Incarceration until recovery

Let him journal

Notes:

The patient is still insisting that he was framed. We have overwhelming evidence he was not, so do not lot him deceive you.

Can you see the evidence?

No. These files are confidential. Provided by a reliable source.

Here is a description of the room Stanford is in:

It's a big white room with cushioned walls and floor. Usually Stanford can roam said room, but when there are visitors he is kept inside a small cage, big enough for him to sit down in but not lay down- tall enough for him to stand, and tall enough for him to jump. There is a bed in the corner. The patient has not participated in arts and crafts, so his walls remain blank.

Rules under cut

Typical DNI!

No interacting if you're a biggot

No NSFW.

Don't flirt with this Stanford, it makes me uncomfortable

No links please, I don't want my inbox crowded with links, let's keep this fun!

No spamming

Angst is cool, encouraged even!

[knotfodder]

-

[anris-resurrection]

Spoilers for thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com

I'm going to keep track of what I'm entering in the computer here :D (I'm trying to keep unique results on their own line) and I'll add as a go for fun

Edit: I think I'll put in what happens because I'm losing track lol

turning the knob, Playing static and then clicking the screen has a backwards message

Hectoring- Bill sings

any swear words- image telling you wash your mouth with soap

Cursed (the text on the candle)- Resist all drawings of triangles info

Vallis cineris- Why did you do it :(

Stanford / Ford / Sixer- Medical record

Stan Edit: click multiple times to get all the ebay links. get the hidden page, click how he beat me, a lot.

Giffany ( enter multiple times and she will download a zip file)

Bill- Triangle wiki

Cipher - Eye of providence wiki

Bill cipher-Video link

Triangle- "tri harder"

Alex- link to purchase flannel shirts

Dipper (enter multiple times for new notes)-note from bill probably

Mason- note from dipper

Gideon- voice message

Mable- puts stickers on the screen XD

Baby- I am pregnant lol

Pines- "a good family tree"

Euclidya- "dimension not found"

Blindeye (there's a color cipher I'm working on EUCLYDIAN ....)

Robbie- texts and a picture

Weird - weird al has a message

pacifica- A note

soos- note

Pinata- video lmao

Mystery- "?"

Tad strange- Erotic Bread

journal 1- " the journal of fun"

Journal 2- "the journal for you"

Journal 3- "the journal for me"

Book of bill- " hide it under shirt during pledge of allegiance

Gun- "Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes they both" lol

weirdmageddon- Newspaper

Theraprism- sign "in case of "the old one" do not use elevators"

gravity falls- "never heard of it"

Platinum paz- short story about pacifica

Blanchin- video link

Love- Bill romance audio book

Ducktective- "ducctetive stars in "love, quacktually..."

mat pat: cameo

blendin " agent is missing and assumed incompetent"

Math- note about greece

Skibidi- death

Tyrone/clone- Tyrone

Dippy fresh- Link to the hippest shit you will ever see

Dorito/Nacho- jumpscare

Help me- video of bill and his therapist

Toby determined- Link to restraining order instructions lol

History- "Geometry existed before the creation - Plato"

Cryptogram codex- Zip file with fonts

Mysteryshack- Location link

theyll all see- "Is seeing believing"

divorce- O'sadleys logo

ad astra per aspera- journal page

Babba- Dipper singing

Disney- " rat.gif censored for your protection"

Scientology- "Suppressive person detected"

season 3 - "season 2"

Season 2- "season 1"

Season 1 - "Season -1 anti gravity falls"

Life- "Life: 72% complete loading death"

death- "lifes goth cousin"

Abuelita - video link

tantrum: bill lore

hey nerd- call now ( 1-800-555-cipher9)

scary- Audio book

even his lies are lies- lore

shave your grandma

titans blood- log off hooty

curse wittebane- ouija board

love ya bro - note and code

kings of new jersey- answer key for code

one eyed king - I want to pledge my soul to bill cipher

just fit in- video

axolotl

rat

naitsuaf- sell your soul

booberry

kook

wellwellwellbeing: (multiple)

xgqrthx

scalene

black sheep

fixinit1

hotxotlotl

ciphertology

not a phase

baaaa

burned inside

im still on your mind

creepy pasta

destruction is a form of creation

morality

forget the past

tourist trap

kubrick

when will i die

mountain dont

monster

conspiracy

globnar

[avs-serotonin-area]

SPOILERS FOR THISISNOTAWEBSITEDOTCOM

WIP

i wanted to compile all the results i got- mainly so i can reference it but if it’s helpful to anyone else that’s great! definitely not complete and there are 100% better lists though lol

when you type in:

Mabel - makes glowy stars appear!

Dipper - before this there was a message for Dipper to stare at the sun to see some secret writting

the image in then all black

Stanford -

Stanley - ebay link for gold chains or brass knuckles

Soos - his entry trying to dissuade you from trusting Bill, its like 3 pages long

Pacifica - her entry trying to dissuade you from trusting Bill

Wendy - you guessed it!

Gideon - audio of him humming and saying "I love you forever Mabel"

Robbie - messages between him and Thompson. They find Bill and are scared for life basically.

McGucket - youtube link for Cotton Eye Joe

Bill - a Sesame Street video about a jazzy triangle and a square??

Blanchin - video on blanchin vegtables

Abuelita - video on best vaccum for walls and ceilings

Trigonometry/math/Greece/geometry -

Blind eye -

Journal 1 - “The journal of fun”

Journal 2 - “The journal for you”

Journal 3 - “The journal for me”

Mystery - “?”

Book of Bill -

Ducktective -

Disney -

Tad Strange - it’s just a video of someone cutting bread… i think it has something like a romantic instrumental in the background

Toby Determined - takes you to a google search on “restraining order”

Triangle - i could’ve sworn it said “tri harder than that” or something along those lines but after typing it again i just see “ ) “ it’s just an end parenthesis

Gravity Falls - “never heard of it”

Season 1 - “season -1: antigravity falls”

Season 2 - “season 1”

Season 3 - “season 2”

Mat Pat/game theory - a video of mat pat saying he can’t help us this time

Weird - a video of weird al. he’s stuck in the computer

Baby/daddy -

Gun - “oh yes oh yes oh yes they both”

Mason -

Alex Hirsch - takes you to a google search for flannel

History - “‘I have received a message from the universe: 1 2 3’ - Nichola Tesla

Cipher - take you to a wiki page for the eye of providence

Portal- “portal.exe has been deleted. i bet you could build one”

Giffany - 1st time “Input deleted. AI antiviral activated” 2nd time “warning: secondary firewall breached” 3rd time "fatal warning. system under attack" 4th time "Soos!! I still love you (the distorted) we will be together" 5th time "Now downloading girlfriend. this action cannot be undone" 6th time a distorted giffany video pops up and the file is downloaded.

Blendin - “time agent lost and presumed incompetent”

No - “your loss…”

Pines - “a good family tree”

Death - “life’s goth cousin”

Fuck (other swear words etc) -

Mystery shack - takes you to a search for “confusion hill”

You’re insane - “sure i am what’s your point?”

Filbrick - “im not impressed”

Waddles - takes you to pigplacementnetwork.org

Who are you - “i could ask you the same question”

Reality - “is an illusion"

Divorce -

Disco girl - a singing audio presumably of dipper listening to disco girl

T.J. Eckleburg - “never mention that name again”

Kings of new jersey - downloads a “secret code” file

Love -

Axolotl- "you ask alotl questions"

Craz/Xyler - Jem and the Holograms theme song

Im still on your mind- seems to be a video of Stan and Ford on their boat...

Theraprism -

Rat - "Thurnburts' number?"

Deer teeth - "for you, kid!"

Tourist trap -

Paper Jam - picture of paper jam dipper. you can print him!

Fordtramarine -

Any "gen alpha term" and various other terms may result in this - "Life privileges revoked. Now releasing poison gas."

Bubble - I cant tell what it does if anything. Doesn't get a big red X though? edit: if you type in mabel after you enter bubble you get an eye sticker! if you keep entering mabel you get more stickers. the lab is now "fully mabelized"

Pinata - video of a child hitting a Bill Cipher pinata, with added sound effects

Dippy Fresh -

Weirdmageddon -

"Vallis Cineris (found when lightning flashes on the upper left corner of the wall) - "Why did you do it?"

[ipromiseimawriter]

WIP TITLE GAME

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by @zahnie - thank you omg!!

From most recently worked on to least (roughly): (I tend to be pretty literal with these for the most part, if they don't already have a title)

destiel fix it fic - draft 2: is what it says on the tin. I will get to chipping at the end of this godforsaken series, so hELP ME. I do have a fancy lil summary though (this could get edited later but y'know!!):

“What are you doing? Dean, no–!” “You asked me to stop you. So I’m stopping you.” ( As promised, the Empty came for Castiel when his soul called. When it sang a happiness so profound that nothing else could possibly contain it. But Dean wasn’t ready to let go – and if you were to ask him, he’d swear he had failed Cas one too many times. So when the time came, he sank right down with him. )  Chuck could’ve called it, really. But there’s no biblical preparation for their journey through the Empty. It’s all up to them, now, while Sam and Jack (and friends) race to undo Chuck’s damage to the world. Alternating POV. 15x18 CODA/Fix-It Fic for end of 15x18/15x19 & beyond [15x20 who is she lmao]

destiel theatre bitches AU: an incredibly self-indulgent AU where Dean and Castiel are professors for a theatre department at a (made-up) small liberal arts school somewhere in Kansas. Cas is a new arrival to the department who's making waves (and suggesting some batshit shows for production), Dean's the gruff and well-loved scene shop head/tech professor who doesn't like his toes getting stepped on (jk yes he does), and they're gonna be soooo normal about it (me when i lie). nearly everyone and their mom is in this AU. we have fun here

Welcome to Purgatory: an original work (longform)! a story inspired by my time interacting with SPN/with other horror-fantasy adjacent medias, some characters I've had for 1000 years, and just - fucking around and finding out. I def tried to NaNoWriMo it before, to no such luck, so I just chip at it on my own time. I've got a running tag for it if you're ever interested! (old summary)

Jules Herrick went missing without a trace in the early nineties, and his hunting partner, Simon Villanova, never saw him again. We jump ahead about twenty-five years and realize why he should’ve stayed missing. Victor and Amelia are two childhood friends separated by time and responsibility, reuniting for what should be a normal road trip under less fortunate circumstances - the death of a mutual friend. However, the trip is quickly derailed by a strange pursuer that sends them on the run, and into action.  The people who catch up with them to help are not what they expect. The lives their families have led were kept from the two for safety. But between a rogue demon, its lost hellhound, and a secret organization hunting down the missing man and his cohorts, one question must be asked: What does Jules Herrick want with the end of the world, as they know it?

go catch a sunset (stanford-era dean/the outsiders bullshit): a Stanford-era Dean fic (which has 2 chapters up!) that I sort of use as my lil swimming pool for figuring ideas out? Mostly just speculation and big character thoughts on that very vulnerable time. I'm v much looking forward to introducing both Bobby and Cassie soon, getting some Winchester drama, and picking at those good backstory characters.

mama barracuda (WIP title - eldritch horror type shit): an original work (short story). "There's a monster in the woods, just off the beaten path from Hope's home. She isn't the first to be trapped into position of Keeper for the Barracuda of the Backwoods, but she is the first - in a very long time - to truly understand her. They call her Mama." So essentially - monster collects teeth for her own rotting mouth. Sisyphean effort on the Keeper's part. Symbiotic parasite/mother-daughter type shit. LOTS TO UNPACK.

honorable mention: a bunch of plays and other lil bits that would take me too long to describe <333

tagging: @subtlefires, @disabled-dean , @butchabouttown, @luckshiptoshore , and anyone who wants to play! (this includes all my friends who may see this and go "hey i have wips". give it to me. i want to see it)

[necroliberty]

So because this is amazing and because I am hyperfocusing on Gravity Falls. Let me share a bit of Amelia's long-lost sister, Kelly Ness. Okay, they aren't sisters anymore, but still.

Kelly fell on the blue grass of a random dimension. She wasn't the type to keep note. The atmosphere was different, somehow safe and dangerous at the time. But again, she didn't particularly keep a note on things like that. Kelly just made a bee line to a mailbox inside either various stickers added to the tin. Mabels had a knack to give stickers to everything. But Kelly just gave them a cursory glance as her right eye gave her the info on each. Giving the coordinate to each stickers place of creation. She should make note of getting stickers for respectives Mabels. Sometimes, it was the only thing that could tell Kelly where to actually send the damm things. Eventually, she opened the mailbox with a specific key and looked through the letters. Some were boring ads that she threw around. No one needed those. Some were Stanfords incredible writings, making sure to say exactly who and where it should be sent. Other times, it was Stanley's doing letters of his own. They were often hard to send back. Mabels were also there. It was obvious with how much stickers and colors her letters had. She practically never had to read the content to know exactly where to go. A bit more, and she was wondering if Mabels just knew the mailbox wasn't actually magic. The rarest were of Dipper and McGucket. For whatever reason, these two either didn't bother make letters or weren't the type to fall in a portal. "Or maybe they both want to be left alone?"

She blinked, and her right eye started to smoke under the intense heat. Forcing Kelly to keel over and grip her eye as the letters floated around her. Smoke from her eye, holding onto them with annoyance. Through her right eye, she could always see something the one who spied. Well, what he saw, to be specific. A mirror was right in front of the demon. A man in his early 20s with brown curly hair broke through by antlers that seemed to either spill ink or petrol from every imperfection in the wood. His eyes were big, staring down the mirror for some kind of stability. Not to mention his long tail swiping at the air behind him. His clothes were still looking like a preacher from a school play. He looked incredibly annoyed. This was a very bad day. "Vulture, do I need to remind you not to insult the likes of me so blatantly."

Kelly wanted to scream that this was stupid, and she was allowed to ask questions. But she also knew better. Days like these, you needed to placate him. So Kelly still held the expression of pain and started to add a quiver to her voice. "I am sorry, I didn't mean for my words to cause harm. I was a fool to even think it in the first place."

The demon stared at his own reflection, closing his eyes too to be able to see her. He vaguely shook his head, making some his hair made of leaves fall to the bed surrounding him. "No, not a fool, just a bad day." He looked down at his hands and feet. His hands were now made of wood, and his feet were deer hooves. He hated this form with such wrath. But his eyes told that he knew better than to take her acting as proof. He didn't trust Bill anymore than she trusted him. He finally closed his eyes again.

Kelly sighed as the pain stopped. She breathed slowly and normally not to let the right eye see her weak. All the letters she had dropped were now safely in her hands, and she looked through them again. Filing them into various pockets in her messenger bag. Making sure she didn't put a letter for the wrong timeline or dimensions.

When she was finally done, she walked away until she could find a loophole in the dimension. Leaving it behind to give letters to family and friends.

This is Kelly Ness as a Mailman. They don't get uniforms because she is the only one.

My smol mini series about the drifting stars au is here!! Ft letters to Dipper!! May do more depending on the reception~