"Simmons" // "The TARDIS"
Prince George receives a giant stuffed wombat from Australia’s Governor General.
In other news, George and the Wombat sounds like an excellent new children’s book series.
Visited @bioware in Edmonton and hung out with my true love, Thane.
Do you just ever love a person so much
But not in a sexual/romantic way
You just love them so much it’s not even a friendship
It’s like they’re your sibling or a platonic soul mate
You don’t want to make out with them or do sexual things
You just want to keep them close to you and protect them and be their friend for life
(I was tempted to make them both kids but I settled on this in the end. I hope this is the kind of thing you were after; I’m not sure how well I handled the “shy” bit.)
Sam glanced back along the beach to where he could still make out the bonfire they had set up to celebrate Adam’s sixteenth. He and Dean had agreed to go with them to keep an eye on Adam and his friends and as he knew Dean planned to abandon him to go and meet his own friends later than evening he fully intended to let Dean keep an eye on them alone until then.
He carried his shoes in one hand, socks tucked inside them, leaving his feet bare so he could walk long the very edge of the beach, water lapping at his feet. He walked until he reached the rocks he had just been able to make out from the fire.
He stepped up onto the rocks, keeping his gaze on his feet trying to avoid any particularly sharp looking edges and he made his way around the edge of the cluster of rocks.
He had made it almost half way around when something moved in the corner of his vision.
His head snapped around instinctively, expecting to see a fish trapped in one of the rock pools. There was a disturbance in one of the larger ones but no sign of what had caused it. Placing his shoes down he climbed over the rocks towards the pool, settling on the side and peering in, hoping to catch sight of the fish.
The pool was larger than he had expected, and deeper too; unlike the others he couldn’t make out the bottom in the centre and large parts of the water were so dark they looked almost black due to the protruding rocks at the edges.
There was another flicker of movement, like light hitting something reflective. He could swear he could make out the outline of something big in the shadows under the rocks. He lent a little closer.
There was a terrifying moment when he realised he’d leant too far before he fell forward, letting out an undignified yelp. The cold water bit through him, not enough to send him into shock but enough to mean that for a moment he was completely disorientated.
A pair of strong hands suddenly grabbed his upper arms and he was tugged upwards, head breaking the surface as he gasped with relief.
His feet found the bottom of the pool and he felt foolish when he realised the water only came up to his mid chest. Then his gaze settled on the person holding him.
It was hard to judge the man’s age exactly, but he had sandy brown hair was plastered against his face from the water and he stared back at Sam with golden eyes; a single eyebrow was quirked in a mixture of amusement and mocking.
“Em… Thanks?” Sam said, still staring at those strangely golden eyes.
The man started, as if remembering something important and threw himself backwards, away from Sam, disappearing back under the shadows of the rocks with a powerful flick of his tail.
Sam stared at the point where the man had been for a second while he processed that piece of information. He hadn’t hit his head and he was fairly certain he wasn’t mad meaning he had, despite the seeming impossibility of it all, in all likelihood, just seen a merman.
Making up his mind, Sam took a deep breath and ducked back under the water, keeping his eyes open despite instinct telling him to shut them. Now he was closer he could make out the merman’s outline far more clearly. His torso was smaller than Sam’s but his tail was longer than Sam’s legs, especially including the fragile looking fin at the end.
He reached out to the merman, unperturbed by the way he narrowed his eyes at Sam and slunk further back into the shadows. He didn’t move any further forward but Sam kept his hand steady. They remained like this until Sam had to pull away to breath. He panted slightly, getting his breath back before driving back down to join merman.
He gave the best pleading look he could and he swore even in the darkness he saw the merman roll his eyes. The merman moved into the light, still ignoring Sam’s hand but nodded and pushed himself up towards the surface.
The merman broke the surface of the water only a moment after Sam, but still kept back from him, eyeing him cautiously. Sam reasoned that that was fair.
“Thanks, for saving my life.”
“You already said that.”
“Oh, right. I’m Sam.”
“Do you need help getting back to the sea?”
Gabriel gave Sam a pitying look.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked, determined to keep conversation going. How often did you get a chance to talk to a mythical creature?
“I was, winning at hide and seek. Now I’m earning myself a lecture from my brother.” But he was smiling slightly and Sam found himself grinning in return.
“My brother will lecture me too when he finds out I fell in.”
“Well it was a rather stupid thing to do,” Gabriel said with a nod, “and you looked ridiculous, I was worried you’d cause some kind of natural disaster with the amount of water you displaced.”
Sam couldn’t help but laugh.
Sam jumped when he heard what sounded like a seal bark from out somewhere beyond the rocks.
Gabriel looked regretfully over his shoulder.
“That’s me busted.” Gabriel said, turning back to Sam.
“Any chance you’ll be here again?”
Gabriel tilted his head and waggled his eyebrows causing Sam to let out a snort of laughter. The merman dived back under the water only to reappear a second later, leaping straight out of the pool, over the two or so metres of rock separating the pool from the sea, back into the main body of water.
By the time Sam climbed out of the pool there was no sign of Gabriel.
While he walked back, Sam was already trying to think of excuses to return the next day.
im going to punch the next person who says its a metaphor
it’s a simile
“We’re tired. We just want it to be over.” — Raphael (5x03)
Crowley had at least spared Bobby from what he saw as the indignity of visiting a tailor. Crowley had done the measurements himself, in Bobby’s living room while the hunter grumbled but didn’t put up any real kind of fight. And, if he was being completely fair, he had seen Crowley dressed more casually than he would have allowed anyone else to, albeit not very often.
However, just being it was fair didn’t mean Bobby was any keener on the idea.
The suit Crowley presented him with was nothing like the suits he wore when impersonating an FBI agent. This was both a comfort, Bobby had always felt ridiculous in those suits, and a reason for nervousness, the only other time he could recall wearing a suit was to get married, which was years ago. This meant he not only had little experience to go on but also how he had looked then would be little indicator of how he would look now.
“Come on Robert, you’re worrying over nothing,” Crowley said, leaning back in his seat as comfortable in his own suit as though he had been born wearing it.
“I don’t see why this is even important to you,” Bobby complained, but with no real bite.
“I just want to remind myself that just because you choose to dress like a man who owns neither a mirror nor a razor doesn’t mean you aren’t capable of looking like you care about your appearance.” Crowley drawled, “Also, call it a demon’s inquisition but I have the feeling you will look surprisingly dashing in a quality suit.”
Bobby rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored Crowley as he started to strip off his clothes. He reached for the carefully pressed trousers with one hand but Crowley interrupted even before his hand closed on them.
“Start with the shirt love. You’ve seen me to do it often enough; I would have thought you had learnt by now.” Bobby didn’t turn around but he could tell Crowley was smirking.
With Crowley’s guidance Bobby managed to put on the suit with little trouble and kept his grumbling to a minimum. He even agreed to put on the waistcoat Crowley had insisted on.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to shave,” Crowley asked as Bobby picked up his tie.
“You like my beard,” Bobby reminded him, frowning slightly as he tried to remember how to do a full Windsor Knot instead of the Half Windsor; he didn’t need to be an expert in suits to suspect that Crowley would have disapproved of anything else.
Crowley hummed noncommittally which was as close to admitting Bobby was right as he was likely to get.
He didn’t let out any sound of triumph as he finally sorted the tie but only because he knew Crowley would mock him for it. He tucked it under the waistcoat and then tugged gently at the bottom to flatten it down.
Bobby was surprised to find it was significantly more comfortable than the suits he had worn in the past. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He also had to admit it looked a lot better than any of the FBI style suits; Crowley hadn’t exaggerated the importance of good tailoring.
He turned to look at Crowley.
Crowley stared at him for a second before noticeably swallowing and getting to his feet. For a second Bobby could swear the demon’s eyes went black.
“I was right,” Crowley said as he crossed the distance between then, “you do look dashing.”
Crowley stepped into Bobby’s space, pressing a kiss to the side of mouth.
“I’m going to take you out for dinner,” Crowley informed him, hands resting in the suit’s lapels. He looked suspiciously like he wanted to use them to haul Bobby into a more heated kiss but he settled for running his hands up them, as though flattening them before returning his attention to Bobby.
“I’m going to take you out for dinner,” Crowley repeated, “And then I’m going to take you back here and you’re going to fuck me while wearing that suit. Sound good?”
Bobby had to agree that maybe this was one of Crowley’s better ideas.
Typing an essay due tomorrow at 3 in the morning
never seen anything more accurate
so from what I understand, the number of viewers for the tomorrow people is decreasing? you guys should all tune in at 9/8c tonight, even if you have the volume down, to help with number of viewers
So I thought I as I’m stuck in this weird stage of writers block for all of my longer projects and there’s a couple of weeks until my exams I thought I would open prompts for a little bit.
Just take a quick look at my prompts page and send me an ask if you are interested.
I wrote a dumb little ficlet about Raphael that is more of a headcanon ramble given fiction form but I thought I’d share it anyway.
Um, what should we name it? I can’t tell if it’s a boy, or a girl, or… maybe genderless, like the future humans who visited Night Vale in the 1950s, with their time travel technology, which was then outlawed until last y –
Oh my God, listeners! It’s hugging my leg! IT’S HUGGING MY LEG!! This is the cutest thing!
Took 5 tabs of acid (first time doing it ever) and my friend gave me a bunch of acrylic paint. Painted it with my fingers tripping out of my mind. Also I’m colorblind, and don’t work with abstract work at all (I only have ever done drawing). Thought this was pretty wacky.
Wtf this is amazing I love you
Holy shitThe quality of the color blending is phenomenal. You are an inspiration.