That Shit Makes Me Wish I Was A Medieval Knight Wounded In The Heat Of Battle, Finally Home And (scandalously)

The lords work

We did it!

1,000 works.

I cannot express the mind numbing bullshit that is having a complete creative block. I can’t write anything. I can’t draw anything. I can’t come up with new designs for soaps I want to make. I can’t get anything creative out and it’s pissing me off UHGGGGGG

If the very touch of him corrupts, then Castiel was willing to let his very grace, his very being corrupt and corrode his entire self. He remembers the agony from which he grasped him from, pulling Dean from the chains of perdition. He remembers the sting and the burn, of their first meeting that drove the demon blade into his vessel’s form, and as he gazed into the eyes that he so carefully rebuilt, and saw the man whose body he rebuilt to contain the soul that shouldered and sacrificed so much for those he cared for, that was so willing to die and follow the every command of his father, and he knew he would endure that pain a thousand more times and much more, just to protect, aid, and love that tormented soul of the man before him. He knew as he watched him shoulder the weight of the apocalypse, the weight of the guilt of his role in bringing it, and knew that he would do everything in his power to relieve any of that burden that he could, and he would leave no plan unmade. Cas was willing to live, loving Dean from a distance, even though all he wanted was for the loving, kind, self-deprecating man to know how dear he was to him. Cas loved him so much, that he knew the only way that the darkness could come to claim his existence and pull him into eternal rest was to just share an admission of that love with him. He loved Dean so much, that even in the face of eternal death, he experienced true happiness just in the simple act of confessing his love to the man who had held his heart in his bloody, calloused, war-torn hands since Cas had rebuilt his physical body with the same careful, loving consideration that his father had used when Dean was knit together in Mary’s womb all those years before.

There’s something so devastatingly beautiful in that love. In their love.

“the very touch of you corrupts, when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell, he was lost” yeah i’m gonna need you to never speak again

i know i haven't spoken about the annihilation of gaza here at all yet, i've been more actively sharing posts and information on my personal accounts on ig/twt/fb etc. however, i'll say this here right now—if you support isr*el or are staying "neutral", i need you to actually go ahead and block me this instant. this is actual genocide, actual ruthless murder of innocent people and children. if you are not firmly on palestine's side, i do not want you on my blog, or to even breathe the same air as me. kindly remove yourself from my space. thank you!

Me introducing my favorite OCs. My sweet little bastards, my sons of havoc that only know how to endure the horrors of every trauma I can cook up. My darlings.

Ted’s literally such a good guy 😭

ted using henry as a drum oh my god...

For all my fic lovers

I was today years old when I learned that when you type “otp: true” in AO3 search results it filters out fics with additional ships, leaving only the fics where your otp is the main ship

🫶❤️💪🕶️🩷

💯🙏💛🟨👍

this blog stands with palestine and if you don’t you can get the fuck out. what israel is doing is genocide and i will not tolerate anyone who supports it.