(Source: 8bitbadguy)


nyokala:

#do you know what this looks like #like they just kissed the crap out of each other #like they were finally on their own so they jumped each other #and now they’re feeling awkward #but in like two seconds they’ll be kissing again #deancas #otpotpotpotp #otp #best ship ever they ruined me

(Source: padakitty)


marielikestodraw:

THEY ARE SO ADORABLE. IS IT ALLOWED. NOT SURE.

marielikestodraw:

THEY ARE SO ADORABLE. IS IT ALLOWED. NOT SURE.

(Source: junoslut)


"What an astonishing thing a book is. It’s a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic."

-CARL SAGAN (via Advice to Writers)

(Source: kadrey)


castiel-sherlock-watson:

http://snk.dothome.co.kr/index2.html



lyrewing:

astroize:

your hiiiiiiighness

So, another  1000 words again! This came from looking at how Dean took care of Cas in 5x03, fixing his tie and jacket…such beautiful memories from that ep, awyeah *hearteyes* Also, this fanart which is amazeballs, and which has made me want to write about the moment where Cas sasses Dean with his royal title into all of the fics, it’s like 5x03’s ‘Our fearless leader’-
Castiel’s hands are well-shaped and elegant, and are currently the bane of Dean’s existence. Dean stands utterly still as Castiel works around him, hooking the cuirass to the back piece and smoothing those beautiful hands across Dean’s torso, tugging to make sure that the fastenings are secure and making Dean’s breath catch with each pass of Castiel’s hands.
He won’t meet Castiel’s gaze, afraid that he’ll betray these sudden strange feelings that he has been having and he exhales shakily when the knight abruptly kneels before him to test the fastenings of Dean’s poleyns to leg greaves. He stares down at the top of Castiel’s head and is struck by the sudden desire to touch the knight-angel’s head in a show of benediction, of affection, of faith. 
If it wasn’t so stupid, Dean would imagine that he might be touching aurelous, the physical manifestation of Castiel’s Grace.
Dean imagines he must have made contact with that intangible thing because he feels a warm prickling across his skin. The feeling only intensifies when Cas rises to his feet with silken grace, eyes clear and bright, a pink flush across the tops of his cheeks. Dean looks away, skittish, until Castiel’s hands come up to bracket his face.
It’s intimate, is what it is, Dean thinks crazily as he stares into Castiel’s crazy-blue eyes. But Castiel’s face is serene, is calm, as he looks at Dean, into Dean. And when Castiel smiles it is like the sun rising which Dean thinks is an absurd simile because it’s just a tiny little quirk, the smallest of curves to Cas’ lips. Yet it is beginning to mean the world to Dean and today that smile is both soft and challenging, for today is the day of the tournament and Castiel wants Dean to win.
‘You have brought me to this moment,’ Dean says finally, voice gruff with emotion.
Castiel’s gives an imperious tilt of his head and everything about him is suddenly so dear that Dean forgets to breathe.
‘Does that make me your hero, your highness?’ the knight murmurs, lowering his eyes demurely. Dean knows it’s meant as a playful gesture, hearkening back to so many moments in the past when they were at each others throats and Castiel would pull out that royal title, fling it at Dean’s feet scornfully. But looking at the gentle fan of Castiel’s sooty-black lashes and the way Castiel has his big hands framing Dean’s face still- still!- Dean has to remind himself that it would be a very bad idea to give into temptation.  Very Bad Idea, Dean tells himself sternly and pictures John’s face to emphasise the point.
It doesn’t stop him from wanting, though, the ache bone-deep.
‘It makes you my best friend,’ Dean confesses and damn but his voice shakes when he gets that out, the naked honesty for all to hear.
Castiel’s eyes widen, and from this close Dean sees just how stunning it is to stare into all of that sudden and brilliant flare of blue.
Dean doesn’t know what to do with his arms encased as they are in the heavy metalpieces of his armor- a sudden reminder that he has a tournament to win- but he wants to put them around Castiel’s body and hug him. In a totally manful way, of course.
Castiel’s hands fall away from his face but Dean is not left feeling bereft because Castiel is picking up his hand instead, and Dean stares down at where they’re basically holding hands.  In a totally manful way, of course, because Dean notices that his fingernails are dirty, and the back of Castiel’s hands are stained with some kind of red-brown dust- so basically it’s all very masculine, this moment that they are having.
Castiel had leant back a little when he’d let go of Dean’s face but now he leans in again with a conspiratorial look on his face. ‘I hadn’t wanted to tell you this as I know exactly how insufferable you can be but-,‘ and here the knight-angel pauses and assumes a look of great pomp on his face, - sometimes, very occasionally, and quite by accident, I have found myself thinking that you are my beloved prince, and that you have my heart as you surely do have the hearts of the people of the kingdom.’
Dean stares at him and tries not to be blown away by the fact that Castiel just confessed his love to him.
‘Don’t let it go to your head- it was all quite by accident. In fact, I feel that you have bludgeoned me into feeling this way for you- all those knocks on the training field, they must’ve addled my head,’ Castiel enunciates with a straight face, but his blue eyes are so-clear and shining and Dean feels faint because he has to go win a tournament and definitely not get himself killed in the process.  Because if Castiel is saying what Dean thinks he’s saying then Dean needs to be alive after the tournament so he can come back to Castiel, and, and, and, yea, Dean needs to stop that train of thought right there because Very Bad Idea.
Castiel fucks it all up, though, fucks with all of Dean’s saintly restraint when he strokes his thumb across the inside of Dean’s wrist and Dean’s mouth drops open because he’s a Son of Sybaris, and that was good touch right there, whisper-soft and teasing.
Dean closes his mouth and then licks across his dry lips. Castiel turns away from him and crosses to the clothesframe that holds Dean’s ceremonial robes. Dean picks up his sword and straps it to his thigh. And when Castiel reaches over to swing Dean’s robes around him, Dean catches him about the waist and kisses that proud mouth because he wants to and there is nothing Very Bad about it because it feels too good.
Castiel leans back from the all-too-brief contact to smile at Dean, ‘Consider that my token for the joust. Although, I am no lady maiden, prince. I am as you are.’
‘You are all that I’ve ever wanted and never knew until this moment,’ Dean mumbles shyly.
Castiel’s eyes close and open, the look so wondering on his face that Dean has to turn away or be overcome.

lyrewing:

astroize:

your hiiiiiiighness

So, another  1000 words again! This came from looking at how Dean took care of Cas in 5x03, fixing his tie and jacket…such beautiful memories from that ep, awyeah *hearteyes* Also, this fanart which is amazeballs, and which has made me want to write about the moment where Cas sasses Dean with his royal title into all of the fics, it’s like 5x03’s ‘Our fearless leader’-

Castiel’s hands are well-shaped and elegant, and are currently the bane of Dean’s existence. Dean stands utterly still as Castiel works around him, hooking the cuirass to the back piece and smoothing those beautiful hands across Dean’s torso, tugging to make sure that the fastenings are secure and making Dean’s breath catch with each pass of Castiel’s hands.

He won’t meet Castiel’s gaze, afraid that he’ll betray these sudden strange feelings that he has been having and he exhales shakily when the knight abruptly kneels before him to test the fastenings of Dean’s poleyns to leg greaves. He stares down at the top of Castiel’s head and is struck by the sudden desire to touch the knight-angel’s head in a show of benediction, of affection, of faith. 

If it wasn’t so stupid, Dean would imagine that he might be touching aurelous, the physical manifestation of Castiel’s Grace.

Dean imagines he must have made contact with that intangible thing because he feels a warm prickling across his skin. The feeling only intensifies when Cas rises to his feet with silken grace, eyes clear and bright, a pink flush across the tops of his cheeks. Dean looks away, skittish, until Castiel’s hands come up to bracket his face.

It’s intimate, is what it is, Dean thinks crazily as he stares into Castiel’s crazy-blue eyes. But Castiel’s face is serene, is calm, as he looks at Dean, into Dean. And when Castiel smiles it is like the sun rising which Dean thinks is an absurd simile because it’s just a tiny little quirk, the smallest of curves to Cas’ lips. Yet it is beginning to mean the world to Dean and today that smile is both soft and challenging, for today is the day of the tournament and Castiel wants Dean to win.

‘You have brought me to this moment,’ Dean says finally, voice gruff with emotion.

Castiel’s gives an imperious tilt of his head and everything about him is suddenly so dear that Dean forgets to breathe.

‘Does that make me your hero, your highness?’ the knight murmurs, lowering his eyes demurely. Dean knows it’s meant as a playful gesture, hearkening back to so many moments in the past when they were at each others throats and Castiel would pull out that royal title, fling it at Dean’s feet scornfully. But looking at the gentle fan of Castiel’s sooty-black lashes and the way Castiel has his big hands framing Dean’s face still- still!- Dean has to remind himself that it would be a very bad idea to give into temptation.  Very Bad Idea, Dean tells himself sternly and pictures John’s face to emphasise the point.

It doesn’t stop him from wanting, though, the ache bone-deep.

‘It makes you my best friend,’ Dean confesses and damn but his voice shakes when he gets that out, the naked honesty for all to hear.

Castiel’s eyes widen, and from this close Dean sees just how stunning it is to stare into all of that sudden and brilliant flare of blue.

Dean doesn’t know what to do with his arms encased as they are in the heavy metalpieces of his armor- a sudden reminder that he has a tournament to win- but he wants to put them around Castiel’s body and hug him. In a totally manful way, of course.

Castiel’s hands fall away from his face but Dean is not left feeling bereft because Castiel is picking up his hand instead, and Dean stares down at where they’re basically holding hands.  In a totally manful way, of course, because Dean notices that his fingernails are dirty, and the back of Castiel’s hands are stained with some kind of red-brown dust- so basically it’s all very masculine, this moment that they are having.

Castiel had leant back a little when he’d let go of Dean’s face but now he leans in again with a conspiratorial look on his face. ‘I hadn’t wanted to tell you this as I know exactly how insufferable you can be but-,‘ and here the knight-angel pauses and assumes a look of great pomp on his face, - sometimes, very occasionally, and quite by accident, I have found myself thinking that you are my beloved prince, and that you have my heart as you surely do have the hearts of the people of the kingdom.’

Dean stares at him and tries not to be blown away by the fact that Castiel just confessed his love to him.

‘Don’t let it go to your head- it was all quite by accident. In fact, I feel that you have bludgeoned me into feeling this way for you- all those knocks on the training field, they must’ve addled my head, Castiel enunciates with a straight face, but his blue eyes are so-clear and shining and Dean feels faint because he has to go win a tournament and definitely not get himself killed in the process.  Because if Castiel is saying what Dean thinks he’s saying then Dean needs to be alive after the tournament so he can come back to Castiel, and, and, and, yea, Dean needs to stop that train of thought right there because Very Bad Idea.

Castiel fucks it all up, though, fucks with all of Dean’s saintly restraint when he strokes his thumb across the inside of Dean’s wrist and Dean’s mouth drops open because he’s a Son of Sybaris, and that was good touch right there, whisper-soft and teasing.

Dean closes his mouth and then licks across his dry lips. Castiel turns away from him and crosses to the clothesframe that holds Dean’s ceremonial robes. Dean picks up his sword and straps it to his thigh. And when Castiel reaches over to swing Dean’s robes around him, Dean catches him about the waist and kisses that proud mouth because he wants to and there is nothing Very Bad about it because it feels too good.

Castiel leans back from the all-too-brief contact to smile at Dean, ‘Consider that my token for the joust. Although, I am no lady maiden, prince. I am as you are.’

‘You are all that I’ve ever wanted and never knew until this moment,’ Dean mumbles shyly.

Castiel’s eyes close and open, the look so wondering on his face that Dean has to turn away or be overcome.


thingsthingsandthings:

Trill
-Graphite

thingsthingsandthings:

Trill

-Graphite


kuroutadori:

Alastair from Supernatural

kuroutadori:

Alastair from Supernatural


gaksdesigns:

Jay-Z & Kanye West - No Church In The Wild.
Directed by - Romain Gavras


onac911:

Wolverine is invited to da Avengerz Slumber party


marielikestodraw:

Idris Elba reveals the story behind the name of his production company ‘Green Door’ [x]

Fuckin win.

(Source: oh-whiskers)


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