A place for my random bouts of Fangirlishness

hartochan:

The thought of my relationship ending is much more terrifying. I’m in an unusual position though. Still on my first significant other and we have ten years under our belt and still going strong. He’s the reason I became a responsible adult in the first place!

roachpatrol:

reverendrevenant:

I could have used this information over the last 29 years of my god damn life

holy shit

roachpatrol:

reverendrevenant:

I could have used this information over the last 29 years of my god damn life

holy shit

(Source: neverforget14)

“You’re the famous spanner in the works. Honestly, I think you came off the line with a crack in your chassis. You have never done what you were told. Not completely. You don’t even die right, do you?”

(Source: hatiel)

(Source: 103312)

sexy-team-free-will:

Misha being his five year old self

(Source: novapkc)

More art for Wayward Ones. Maybe it will inspire me to write more …

gabrielbigbang:

Title: Carry That Weight

Author: scarlet gryphon, aka anenchantedloom

Artist: sharys aogail aka sharysisnhmoonshadow, and ziarenete13x aka angelicdiaspora

Beta: sarcastic fi and luciferblogging

Pairing (if any): Sam/Gabriel, minor Dean/Cas and Bobby/Jody

Genre/Tropes Sentinel/Guide AU, pining, willfully oblivious!Sam

Rating: PG-13/Teen

Word count: 24,709

Warnings/Spoilers: Slight misuse of alcohol, but nothing you wouldn’t see on the show. Gabriel’s a lightweight.

Summary: Sam doesn’t want a Guide. Gabriel has no choice but to be his. The road to love (or even like) never has run smooth. Steampunk-fantasy Sentinel/Guide AU fusion. Sabriel with v. minor background Destiel. Written for the Gabriel Big Bang 2014.

Link to fic: Carry That Weight (On AO3)

Link to art: Art by sharys_aogail; Art by Ziarenete13x (she also did the wonderful title cards and fic banner). Youtube Music Playlist by Scarlet_gryphon

I cant remember the last time I did cover art that was for my own fic. Feels good!
Fic is a SPN/TF crossover and can be found on FF.net as well as AO3. (just one more chapter to go … for this one anyway.)

I cant remember the last time I did cover art that was for my own fic. Feels good!

Fic is a SPN/TF crossover and can be found on FF.net as well as AO3. (just one more chapter to go … for this one anyway.)

rattle-and-burn:

Finished the armor for my Maedhros cosplay!

This is the biggest and most ambitious leather working project I have ever done; and although it was done in two stages months apart, the design, drafting, cutting, tooling, dyeing, and assembly was all done in two days. When I get motivated, I get really motivated.

The tassets have a simple line gorged into them, but all the upper body pieces have a celtic knotwork pattern tooled into the edges.

The idea behind this is to draw inspiration from the armor in the LotR films, which I think is really the best part of the films, and dial it back several millennia as far as technology and armoring skills goes. If they have plate mail in the War of the Last Alliance, then the War of Wrath should in theory be the end of leather and chain and beginning of plate.

I presume that post-Thangorodrim Maedhros would favor his left and fight in a more dueling style; turning his body side face to the opponent - thus the heavy armor on one side of the body (rest of the arm armor not pictured due to armless mannequin). The right side will be wearing chain for practicality and I am making a shield for more heavy fighting.

Usually I get mad at my projects as soon as they’re finished, but this one I absolutely love.

sparxwrites:

"We thought you died!" roars Sam, and his hands shake where they’re pinning Gabriel to the wall of the bunker, a forearm across his throat and palm on his chest. "We saw your corpse, saw the wings- we thought you were dead!”

Several emotions grace Gabriel’s face in quick succession - shock, confusion, a brief flicker of fear that morphs into something like guilt and is gone in a heartbeat. “Can’t take the trick out of trickster, kiddo,” he says, a bright grin pasted onto his face, but it’s hollow, the amusement behind it fake.

"We thought you died," repeated Sam, and his arms fall, slowly, no longer pressing bruises into Gabriel’s slightly-closer-to-human skin. The anger fades from his face, replaced by the exhaustion that has graven lines into it over the past year or two, ages him beyond his years and left his eyes hollow, red-rimmed. His hand catches on Gabriel’s shoulder, squeezes briefly as if he’s checking the archangel in front of him is still real.

And then it falls, drops to his side with the other - and Sam’s dropping, too.

His knees hit the floor with a crack that makes Gabriel wince, makes Dean start forward from where he’s been watching. He stops only at Castiel’s fingers on the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him backwards. This is not Dean’s fight; he will have his chance to air his grievances later, as Castiel had done earlier.

This, though. This is Sam’s turn.

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