i seriously love this shot

When the Cock Crows

Originally posted by whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname

A/N: This is pure silly fun. Basically it’s the kind of trash conversations my ass blesses subjects my friends to. Seriously though, it’s a result of a post from @impala-dreamer, I yelled at her for it and then she was a terrible influence and encouraged these shenanigans by talking to me about it (oh yeah she beta’d it too because she’s an angel). I hope you guys like it!

Warnings: So many swears…l mean cock is in the title ffs…also we’ll call it smut adjacent (nothing graphic it’s just on the road to bang town) Gratuitous use of a Sam gif for no other reason than chest hair.

Words: 2,060 (I’m not even sorry)


“Did anyone catch what she said before the…the uh poof?”

“I got nothin’ Sammy. Y/N?”


“It’s…I’m fine. Just knocked the wind outta me. Babe, I’m ok really.”

“Ok well maybe she didn’t do anything? Maybe she just said stuff for the poof.”

“Sure Dean. Because stuff like that always happens to us. She was looking at us, Y/N was behind her so most likely if any of us are cursed it’ll be either me or you.”

Sam wasn’t looking at Dean while he spoke. He was checking you over to see if you were hurt. It was sweet. Sweet, and so annoying.

“Hey I’m fine. Let’s just get back motel and figure out our next move.”

“She’s right, Dean you want to pull the car up and I’ll help Y/N out?”

Keep reading

I love love love this shot of my Hera taken at SWCO by @FuryZhil on twitter.

This was right as Celebration was shutting down on the last day and we were slowly inching our towards the exit


If Good and Evil can’t find a way to work together, neither side will survive.

The decision to go with Armin’s more subtle approach was unanimous.


All that hooey about a symbol of liberty, fighting American—even someone like me could fall for it. I guess ‘cause we need a Captain America. I need a Captain America.

WARNING Spoilers for torchwood outbreak.

Seriously I cannot get over just how much Ianto loves Jack.
He nonfatality shot an immortal man who was trying to kill him and that’s when he started to think he was infected.
Like… Really?

Nothing that he did screamed ‘infected with virus that makes me want to kill you’ what he did was perfectly reasonable. Horrible (personally for him to be in the situation) but reasonable.
The man was trying to kill him.
The man was immortal.
It wasnt a fatal shot.

Yet he loves Jack so much that the fact that he did that made him realise that maybe he was infected.

I just…
Can not put it into words.

Okay you guys, it’s summer and I’ve got too much time on my hands and I need some more ocs to draw. So, I thought about asking if any of y'all had some you wanted me to attempt. It’ll help expand what I think I can do and you get free, hopefully decent art out of it lol. So you can message me or add pictures onto here. Hell, you can even send me links to photos of your ocs. But you gotta tell me which one to draw. Don’t make me choose. I am terrible at that and will likely cry. No, just kidding. But seriously, I’d love to give your precious babies a shot. I’ll try to have them done - well, whenever I can tbh.

One small step

pairing: michael x paralyzed!y/n

word count: 1,936

requested! i actually loved this idea so fucking much oh my god and i ended up writing more than i planned oops

hope you enjoy xx

In all honesty, this is the moment you had nearly dreamed of all your life. Not just during your relationship with Michael, but as long as you could remember.

You weren’t paralyzed all your life, but in grade school you had developed a rare spinal cord disorder and lost your ability to walk entirely. All your time growing up, through middle and high school, you had always been jealous of how easily your friends walked about, not even thinking about putting one foot in front of the other. You were envious, needless to say, however when you were first diagnosed with the disorder, not all hope was lost. The doctors told you the chance of you walking again was definitely there, it would just take a bit of practice.

And every night you dreamed of just being able to stand on your own, let alone walk great distances. Just the simple act of standing amongst a group of people without sticking out like a sore thumb, sitting in your cumbersome wheelchair and always looking up at your friends above you, which you still haven’t grown used to. 

Meeting Michael was a whole other ballpark, though. Running into him one day–nearly running him over, rather–was the one thing you remembered about that day. Of course you were self conscious, meeting this stranger and doubting that he would ever think of you as a friend. And the idea of him asking you to be his girlfriend was even more of a shock to you; you were incredulous to the idea of anyone wanting to date you. But Michael fucking Clifford? He was unattainable in your eyes. Your life proved you wrong, as it seemed, and here you were.

When you first met, Michael was just another (extremely attractive) human you just so happened to run into. You weren’t familiarized with his background, his career, or anything like that. But with time, you slowly find out more and more about him, and you never would’ve thought you would be in any position dating a rockstar.

With the fame, of course there were fans. Supportive, haters, all the like. And at first you were wary that those certain people would be confused–some angry–that Michael would fall for someone he couldn’t even walk next to. But Michael had spoken out about it soon enough, and since then the fans seemed much more welcoming to you. 

Your kindness and warm smile proved you “worthy” of protecting Michael, being by his side and supporting him and his certainly demanding career path. 

Michael had asked many times for you to join him on tour, but you would deny it every time, not wanting to be an inconvenience to anyone, especially since going from city to city went at such a quick pace, you felt you would slow things down. 

But, what Michael didn’t know, is that you had been visiting a doctor and physical trainer to learn more about regaining the ability to walk again. You had been visiting the doctor for years before you met Michael, but he came into your life towards the end of your journey to learning to walk again, it seemed. 

This sparked an idea.

Michael’s birthday was approaching quicker than you realized, and the way his touring schedule fell, he would be performing the night of his birthday. He was on the other side of the country, New York City, to be exact. And after consulting it with your doctors, they concluded that a surprise trip to visit him would be possible–as long as your closest friend–Erin–tagged along just in case you needed any extra assistance.

And here you ended up, in a hotel room in downtown NYC, a few blocks away from Madison Square Garden where they would be performing tonight. The boys had performed their first sold out show here nearly 3 years ago, and every time they returned they felt the same sense of nostalgia amongst the foursome. It had been Luke’s birthday then, and now it was Michael’s turn for a birthday show.

Earlier, you had texted him a quick happy birthday message, saying how much you missed him and how you couldn’t wait to see him when he returns in the next coming months. You did everything in your power to make this believable, and he didn’t suspect a thing just like you wanted.

Your best friend laid sprawled out on her bed, mindlessly scrolling through her various social media platforms before she turned her head to you. “When did Zoe say she’d be here?”

“When the show starts so there’s no chance of Michael knowing I’m here before he went on.” You quickly explained. “So and hour or so?”

“Are you excited?” She asked, tossing her phone down and sitting up, giving her full attention to you.

You nodded and smiled widely. “Of course. I’m a little nervous though, like what if I get up on stage and I can’t do it?”

“You’ve taken some small steps before, right?” She inquired, to which you nodded. 

“Yeah, but it’s always been with Sarah.” I told her. “I haven’t really tried on my own because I’m scared that if I were to fall or something, that I wouldn’t be strong enough to get back up.”

“Believe me, Michael will be more than shocked to see you stand at the least. So either way, he’d be beyond proud of you.”

“I know…I’m just a little worried, y’know?” You said, playing with the hem of your sweater anxiously. “What if I embarrass myself in front of all of them? It’s a fucking sold out show, Erin.”

“I promise you, that won’t happen!” She told you. “Here, do you wanna get up and try walking over to me? Just as like a warm up?”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, but you agreed, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and placing your feet on the carpet beneath you. Erin held her arms out a bit, just in case, and carefully you pushed yourself off of the bed you were sitting on, stabilizing yourself for a moment. Each time you stood up, you remembered the first time it happened, almost a year ago.

It was such an emotional day to you, and when you took your first step in years, you couldn’t help but cry. You imagined a deaf person hearing for the first time in your life feeling the same way as you in that very moment, or a blind person seeing. Regardless, you shocked yourself and the doctors as well, and leaving that day you knew that holding onto that small shred of hope was all worth it in the end. 

And now, you could take small steps.

You slowly bent your legs like your trainer had taught you, placing your foot in front of you and shifting your weight, putting yourself at ease somewhat. Erin’s mouth hung open, amazed at seeing you walk towards her, slowly put surely, all on your own. When you reached her, though, she stood up and pulled you into a hug, kissing the side of your face. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” You said, hugging her back tightly. 

The next hour seemed to drag on as you waited for Zoe’s call, and when she rang, in a matter of minutes you were loading into a large black van outside of your hotel. 

The next half hour flew by, in your eyes, waiting backstage with adrenaline pumping through your veins as you talked amongst your boyfriend’s supporting acts, who were all excited for you to surprise Michael. 

“You wanna head backstage? We’re planning on having a really quick celebration for Michael after the next song so you want to be the first person he sees after the song ends.” Zoe told you, and you nodded.

The plan was for you to come out on stage, in your wheelchair just as Michael remembered you, but the real surprise would come when you would get up and walk over to him, embracing him. He would be incredibly happy to see you, no doubt, since it has been a couple months since the last time you had seen him before tour. 

You could hear the last chorus of “Castaway” being sung, the music blaring throughout the corridors leading backstage. Zoe offered to wheel you backstage, and you were hidden from Michael’s view as you waited for the signal for the surprise to begin.

And then, every light in the arena shut off, the crowd responding with wild cheers as they awaited to witness the next moment happen onstage. Just as the lights shut off, you caught sight of Michael’s head whipping around, confused at what was happening.

While it was still dark, Zoe wheeled you out, a cupcake with a candle lit in your hands being the only source of light.

His eyes fell on the small flame, and just as he quirked an eyebrow, the lights came back on and he nearly fell over at the sight of you. His first instinct was to run up to you and bend down to hug you, but you held the cupcake out to him with one hand and spoke into the microphone you were holding with the other. 

“Wait right there,” You instructed, handing him the cupcake as he stared at you with awaiting eyes, a grin creeping across his face with every passing second. 

You leaned over and flipped the foot pedals up to give you a place to stand, and Michael grew more confused. “Y/N, what are you–”

His voice trailed off, but you weren’t going to answer anyways. You pushed yourself up just like you had in your hotel room earlier, steadying yourself. At this moment, you hadn’t even realized the entire arena cheering for you, and when you did, you looked out into the audience with a confident grin, facing Michael once more. When you were finally stood up, he dropped the cupcake, not giving a damn about it (don’t worry, though, the flame blew out as it fell to the stage floor so nothing caught on fire). All he cared about was you.

And you took a step forward. One foot in front of the other. Step after step. Before you were right in front of Michael, an arm’s length away, and his eyes had tears glossing over. 

The next thing you knew and you were in Michael’s arms, his head buried into your neck as small tears fell onto your skin. You couldn’t help but cry too–but they were happy tears. No, they were ecstatic tears. Tears you cry when miracles happened. 

“Y/N, I’m so so fucking proud of you, angel.” He whispered to you. “I can’t…this is just–the best thing. I can’t believe it.”

You looked up at him, shaking your head and letting out a quiet laugh. “I’m so happy, Michael.” You told him, knowing for sure 

“I’m so glad to hear that, Y/N. And this…I’m so happy for you. This is absolutely incredible.” He said, looking up and down your body, marveling at how you were standing there, in his arms, and you had done it all on your own. “You’re so strong, angel. You don’t know how proud I am of you.”

He pulled you into another tight hug, pressing kisses to your cheek. And you held onto him, never wanting to let go.


“Booker, are you afraid of God?”

“No… But I’m afraid of you”

From our Bioshock: Infinite shoot at Sci Fi Weekender, March 2015. Probably one of the most awesome locations I’ve shot at 8D

Booker DeWitt - @flamboyantwreck

Elizabeth - @roguearcanis

Photography by @trollkingizzy

Editing by @nyxrising

  • Tauriel: If this is love, I don't want it. Take it away, please! Why does it hurt so much?
  • Thranduil: Because it's not Canon.
Heaven and Hell

Request: “I seriously love your one-shots, but then again, I love any blog that worships the Winchesters. Anyhow, do you mind doing a one-shot where the reader is Castiel’s angel daughter, and you’ve always been told that demons are reaaally bad, but you end up reaaally interested in the King of Hell?” by coolfangirlblogging

and “Will you PLEASE do a reader x crowley fic? I don’t have any specifics in mind, but I would love to see one! Thanks!” by mscthulhumarvelhorrordanddgirl

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Words: like 1200 words

Warnings: smut, swearing

A/N: It plays during Season 10 but before the 19th episode! The reader is Castiel’s daughter and has met the boys in Season 5 maybe? So they are like a family to her.

Also I don’t really know if I did a good job writing it, I found it kind of hard because I’m not really into Crowley x reader that much :), since I’m more of a Dean/Sam girl. So I really hope you like it!

I stood next to the elder Winchester and the altar. Candles enlightened the dark motel room, wet red paint stained the floor in the shape of a devil’s trap.

I was scared, but kind of excited at the same time. I would get to see the King of Hell. A demon like no other.

I knew demons were bad. That’s what my father, Castiel, had taught me. That’s what all the other angels had taught me. Dean and Sam had always told me to stay as far away from them as I could, because they were nothing but violent trouble.

Ever since I was young, I couldn’t help but be fascinated by those evil creatures, those tortured human souls that were the complete opposite of what I was. I was fascinated by their ruthlessness, they were so unforgiving. They were just interesting individuals, like wild animals in a human vessel.

I had met a few of those hell-soldiers before, some small crossroad demons – and they weren’t very smart. But the King of Hell…

I hadn’t had the chance to meet him yet, but everyone said that he was cleverer than the other demons. Shrewd and villainous.

The Winchesters and my father sought help from him, they needed someone to translate an ancient book that could maybe help getting rid of the Mark of Cain. I knew that my father wasn’t very pleased about it, he hated Crowley, he didn’t trust him, but he had no choice anymore. 

We were all desperate. We just wanted Dean to get better, we just wanted him to be free. Free from the mark, the constant struggle, the violent feeling that seemed to burn him alive. I loved Dean, he was like a brother, always called me his “little angel.”

We all wanted to protect him at all cost, save him, keep him alive and keep him…human.

So there we were, conjuring the King of Hell, hoping he’d help us.

“Hello boys,” suddenly, he appeared. A challenging smile decorated his face, he wore a black, expensive looking suit. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but I was kind of overwhelmed when I saw him. He was handsome, looked provocative. 

I was an angel, just like my father, so I was able to see behind a demon’s vessel, I was able to see their true faces. But with him, Crowley, it was different. I didn’t know why, but I just couldn’t see behind his vessel, couldn’t see the damaged darkness of a tortured soul. That made him even more fascinating and mysterious to me. He was not just another demon – he was special. 

And very attractive.

“What do you guys want from me? Kinky little foursome maybe?” he mocked, taking a step towards us, “And who’s that young lady? I haven’t met her yet. She looks like an angel.”

It had a double meaning and I smiled. He was so sassy, yet flirty.

I knew that I was supposed to hate him, I was supposed to find him unbearably terrible. But I didn’t. Not at all actually.

“I won’t talk to you, if you keep me in this useless devil’s trap, ladies,” he stated. Sam looked at Dean, at my father, then he smeared one of the red lines, setting the demon free.

My family and Crowley started talking about the mark, about a cure and the crypted book. In the end, the demon agreed on translating it for us, winking at me. Castiel clutched his fists.

“Don’t look at her,” he hissed, protectively pushing me behind him. The King of Hell chuckled, his glance caught mine and we looked at each other intensely for a few seconds, before he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

I exhaled loudly, my heart excitedly beating. I’d met the King of Hell. And I wanted to see him again.

I was alone in the bunker the next evening, the boys were out at a bar. I sat in the library, reading the Men of Letter’s notes about demons.

My thoughts wandered to the extremely hot demon that I’d met, to his sharp, sarcastic words and his beautiful eyes that could turn black. There’d been some kind of tension between us, I’d felt it. But how was I ever going to see him alone? Castiel would kill me if he found out that I wanted to meet him again. That I was curious about how his touch felt, his lips against mine. Jesus Christ, he was probably a demonic bomb in bed. Probably rough and wild and animalistic.

What was it like to kiss a demon?

In that moment, he appeared. Just like that. I gasped in surprise, letting the book in my hands fall to the ground. He smirked at my reaction. 

“Hello, darling,” he greeted, sitting down on one of the wooden chairs next to me. I ran my hands through my wild and messy hair to make myself look better, shifted in my seat in agonizing excitement. Shouldn’t I be scared? I really wasn’t.

“Hello,” I replied, my voice low, shaky, nervous.

“I saw the way you were looking at me yesterday. Very inappropriate for an angel, don’t you think?” he teased, bending forward, only inches separating our faces. I felt his hot breath on my lips.

“Not all angels are good, huh?”, he almost touched my mouth, “Are you a good girl, Y/N? A disciplined little angel?”

The electric tension between us was killing me, I gave in to my desire and crashed my lips onto his. The kiss was heated, contradictorily aggressive but gentle at the same time, it made me moan into his mouth, made fire burn inside of me. Hell, kissing a demon was great. So different. But great.

“Oh, I see, baby girl, you’re a bad little angel,” he growled, digging his fingers into my waist as he began to bite my neck. “Sexiest little angel I’ve ever seen.”

His hands explored my body, touching me everywhere.

“Stand up,” he ordered and I obeyed. Then, with a snap of his fingers, I was naked. Cold air brushed my skin and sent shivers down my spine. I felt a little insecure and exposed at first, but when I saw his eyes devouring the sight of my bare skin, I relaxed. He wanted me. Now.

He removed his own clothes, too and I sat down on his lap, straddling him. His hard length pressed against my womanhood. We shared another wet and needy kiss, then he thrusted into me. Hard and rough. He stretched me out completely, filling me up and I groaned loudly when he started pushing into me fast. 

His lips swirled around my nipple, taking it in his mouth, intensifying the sensations. I moved up and down, pulling his hair unwaryly.

“Oh, fuck!” his husky, dark, voice was filled with lust, his grunts and my heavy breathing filled the room.

“Shit, faster, please…I…I’m so close,” I begged, the tension inside of me grew harder, I knew I would explode soon. He thrusted into me hastily.

“Come for the king, baby girl,” he groaned. And then I lost it, clenching my walls around him, sending him over the edge, too. He was panting, heavily breathing into my neck.

“Angels” he said, “are not so bad after all.”