This is AWESOME!
You know how everyone’s making the whole “Castiel is the angel of Thursday and is the brother of Gabriel aka Loki and Thursday is Thor’s day” connection.
Well I just happened to find this picture of Chris Hemsworth.
Yeah that’s right Thor and Castiel are one and the same.
Dean can barely keep it in his pants. xD
Things I’m afraid of because of Doctor Who and Sherlock
Weeping angels
Mannequins
cracks in walls
television
having more than one shadows
water stains
water
astronauts
gas masks
fog
cabbie drivers
graffiti
and this man :
(Source: consulting-detective-with-a-box)
Prompt: The Door
The prompt was this: a door is floating in the middle of the ocean.
I wrote this in the half hour break in class and never really proof read it so have fun.
Time is relative when you’re falling through dimensions, but he figures it’s been about a week. He’s slept three times since this mess started, once on cliffs edge overlooking a burning forest, once in a dingy abandoned motel and most recently in an empty wine cellar where he was being held prisoner.
The psychopath had drug him out of the dark grimy room, strapped him to a table and pulled out a handsaw with the most demented expression he thinks he’s ever seen. Now he’s surrounded by salt water as far as the eye can see, clinging to a wooden door and there is something in his mouth.
He clings on tightly with one hand and lets the other come up to pull from his clenched teeth what proves to be a key card for the door he’s holding on to. He puts it back and slides off into the cold water so he can put the key in the door. It buzzes. He’d be surprised but he just can’t be anymore, not after what he’s seen, what he’s felt. Getting the door open is hard with the waves crashing into him, threatening to pull him away from his only lifeline. After slipping, almost losing the card and slipping again, he gets it open.
As he suspected there is a room in that door. This dimension is broken, shattered. Getting into the room proves just as hard has getting the door open has been. Eventually he gets a good hold on the molding and is able to pull himself up and in to the room. As he hauls himself in the sudden shift in gravity drags him down to the floor. His mind spins and his whole body shivers at the shocking change in temperature. When he glances back over his shoulder he sees the crashing wave that pushes the door closed behind him.
He rolls onto his back breathless and dizzy. There are plastic stars on the ceiling, the kind that glow in the dark. Now that he considers it, he must be far, far away from the door he was floating on before because it was daylight there but it’s night now.
He’s in a child’s bedroom. A boys judging from the clothes piled on the floor. There are spaceships on the bed sheets and a mobile in the corner with multicolored planets. The walls are painted a deep blue with little dots of white in various sizes.
In the dim light of the spaceman night light he sees a little boy in the corner, huddled in a ball, shaking and afraid.
“Hey kid, you okay?”
The sobbing grows steadily louder, then the tiny voice breaks into silence.
“I’m not here to hurt you. How long have you been trapped here?”
The boy turns slowly, his skin is stretched thin across his face and his eyes are forced wide. His mouth splits open to reveal a wretched set of teeth.
He takes a half a second to spring into action, the nearby closet door is thrown open to reveal a peaceful forest clearing. The door swings closed behind him, muffling the earsplitting screech the creature lets out.
Lessons in humility.: Shit, guys
The Video Blog of Dr. J. H. Watson
John’s voice cracks when he laughs, chuckling into his steepled hands.
“It’s funny,” he says, even though it isn’t, because it isn’t. “Middle of the night and I smell coffee.” He motions vaguely with his hands, but it’s as if the motion tires him out, isn’t…
Writing Prompt: “Archangel”
Prompt: There are three children sitting on a log near a stream. One of them looks up at the sky and says…
“I’m gonna live in one of the Archangel’s someday.”
“Iva don’t be dumb, people like us don’t get to see Archangel from any view but below.” Noah gives the blond girl next to him a shove and a grin.
The girl sticks out her tongue before remembering her manners. She straightens up, then smooth’s out her dress and combs her fingers through her blond hair that’s matted with dirt. “It’s Ivana, Iva ain’t a proper name. If I’m gonna get a ticket into the flying city I’ve gotta be a proper lady.”
The boy to Ivana’s left gives a small smile and straightens out his glasses, “Ivana, ladies of Archangel do not speak like that. They always enunciate their words properly and they never use words like ‘ain’t’ and ‘gonna.’”
“See Ivana, you aren’t a proper lady. Callum would know his parents lived in one of the city ships when they was kids.”
Ivana looks at Callum with a small frown and a furrowed brow. “It don’t make no sense to me why they’d leave.”
Callum looks up the sky and grimaces, “They talk about it a lot, life in the flying city. It was beautiful and perfect and lovely. The people though, Mom says they were ugly, mean, bitter and awful; the sort of people that walk around with their noses in the air and ignore those in need.” He pauses and looks to his feet where his worn shoes toes the muddy ground, wet from the nearby stream. “Dad says that the Earth is a gift to us from God and that we shouldn’t abuse her like we have. That our place is on the ground and building the great flying cities was wrong in the first place. That’s why they left.”
“Can’t be that bad up there,” Ivana points out, glancing up again, “I’ve heard they have big street fairs and there ain’t no rotten smells from factories and things like there is down here.”
“That is true.” Callum says ignoring Noah’s huffs, “It’s clean up there. Mom said that she went to school every day, but on the weekends she could go out and play on big playgrounds like they have in the advertisements.”
Ivana gives a sudden happy smile before reaching into her dirt stained sock and pulling out a folded broacher. “I found this in a trash heap near our house once.” She opens it like it’s a most treasured object. “It’s an advertisement for Michael, the big city ship over New York. Everythin’ looks so bright and shiny in the pictures.” Her voices softens as she strokes her finger over the image of a little blond girl with pigtails wearing a pink dress and running with a red balloon. “I know it’s just a drawin’ but she looks so happy. Her dress ain’t dirty like mine and there’s an ice cream parlor in the back. See it there? I ain’t ever had ice cream before but my big brother did once when one of those humanitarian groups came down in their fancy clothes, they brought it into the classrooms. He says it’s cold and sweet like Auntie May’s tea.”
“You know what I think?” Noah asks, not caring the his friends don’t care to hear his opinion, “I think it’s all rubbish. Callum’s parents wouldn’t of left if it was as great as the pictures say.”
When Noah reaches for the broacher Ivana lets out a little shriek and pulls away, toppling back off the log they’d been sharing and into the filth piled behind it.
“Noah leave her alone!” Callum snaps before turning to help his friend to her feet when she doesn’t reach for his hand he follows her gaze upwards.
Bright confetti is raining down from above.
Ivana mutters, “It does that sometimes.”
