Another Playlist I Made :) Photography On The Cover Does Not Belong To Me.

BEES Thank you for your bee pun, OP, this has made my day. And remember! If the bees go, they’re taking us down with them.

Can I offer you a terrible joke in this trying time?

Candle or flame?

Shall I sit calmly and read in the candlelight, or shall I commit arson instead? No one shall ever know, for I shall never be caught.

Photo from pinterest.

Start of Chapter six, Sins of the Flesh

Start of chapter four, Sins of the flesh.

Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1281199235-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-6-castiel-angel-of-the Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/107196657

---- A few calm weeks went by as the temperatures dropped, whatever green was left on the trees shifting to bright fiery colours as they approached the end of October. Winds began to pick up and frost collected on the grass in the early mornings, days shortening as the sun began to lower in the sky earlier and earlier in the evenings. On October 23rd, Dean found himself hunched over a bible, trying to memorize a script for the Sunday sermon, one which his father had always taken very seriously because of the approach of Halloween. John had always been unnecessarily strict about the fact that Halloween was the devil’s work, that ghouls and demons would be invited into your home if you celebrated it. He wasn’t completely incorrect as both a priest and a hunter; many idiots tended to summon things nearing Halloween as a sort of daring and spooky activity, although the celebration itself had no attachment to any sort of gateways, as his father so-called them. Nonetheless, the priest still found himself in the dark of his kitchen, fingers gliding over the same imprints in the paper over and over in a desperate attempt to memorize them all by the 26th. He had, of course, memorized hundreds of passages in the past few years he had been carrying on the family business, but Dean preferred to preach new lectures and teach new things each year instead of simply repeating what he had already said; although there had been a few times he found himself repeating himself when he wasn’t able to think of anything new for that week. Dean barely noticed the passing of time as he worked for hours on his memorization, his mind began to wander as he remembered the happenings only just under four weeks prior; he had heard from Sam that the matricide had continued, and in some sick way, Dean felt guilty for leaving so many people to die. Plagued with guilt and the need to make his father proud, Dean carried on with his memorization and only stopped when Castiel entered the room and lay a gentle hand on his left shoulder. The priest flinched, startled out of his concentration at the sudden touch; he hadn’t even heard Castiel’s footsteps. “Jesus, Cas! Warn a guy before you touch him,” Dean grumbled as he fixed his terrible posture, raising his arms above his head as he stretched. “I apologize, Dean, usually I don’t have to,” Castiel apologized softly as he placed a mug on the table in front of Dean, the thick glass clunking against the table as it was set down. Dean picked up the mug and took a careful sniff of it before taking a sip, his brow creasing in confusion as he recognized the bitter taste of coffee on his tongue. “Why are you giving me coffee so late?” The priest questioned as he set the mug back down, careful not to spill any on his bible. “Late? No, Dean, it’s early. It’s five am,” Castiel informed as he sat down beside his friend at the table and sipped at his own coffee, made with cream and sugar.

The captain goes down with the ship.

Coffee_Sigh.Rho. · Playlist · 48 songs

Yes another playlist I made. Not my art on the cover.

Night before christmas - twisted tale

Twas the night before christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The stockings were ripping and tied to a chair, Sat poor St. Nicholas, who had abbandoned his cheer.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds; While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And mamma in her 'kerchief and pa in his cap, had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

But out in the sitting room was the eldest son, despaired, he stood before St. Nick with a long, cold stare.

"You have made up a holiday and stolen into my home" "And now you must face the wrath of Steve, Bobby and I, Gerome" With that out sprang two other young people Glaring at St.Nicholas with looks that spelled "evil"

"You dress up in red and bring toys for children" "Yet we know not who you are, or where you have been." "So there shall be no milk and cookies tonight for you, villain." And thus St.Nick regretted his decission; of breaking into this house on the night before Christmas.

He looks so concerned-

I love it when a cat owner says something stupid to Jackson Galaxy and he's clearly having to restrain himself from grabbing them by the shoulders and shaking them violently

I agree! I as a fanfic author I have found solace in being able to share my stories with others; it’s an oportunity I had never thought I would be able to do, let alone for free, and it’s provided a sort of home for anything my brain can come up with and get onto paper. It’s not just a website, it’s a place where authors can write freely and not be afraid to be blocked out and discriminized against; it’s been my escape for nearly five years now, and I do not know what I would do without it.

To you, maybe Archive of Our Own is "just" a website.

But to others, it's more.

It's a community.

It's a place where writers can be free to write what they want, without having to worry about it being taken down.

It's a place where people can cope, and vent, and do what they need, because guess what, it's a good fucking coping mechanism.

What Tiffany G. is promoting goes against the OTW's existence.

AO3 was created to prevent the censorship.

And hell, maybe it's not all about the website.

Maybe we're just fucking tired of gay, trans, queer, disabled, etc. shit getting censored.

This is all bullshit.

So yes, Archive of Our Own might be a website, but that doesn't mean it's "just" a website. That doesn't mean that the problems going on don't matter. This is real, it matters, and it means something.

This is how my lover’s voice sounds... never has their voice been any less sweet than honey, or less gentle than the wind blowing through a field of lavender. I do not deserve him, and yet he is mine, and for that I am forever greatful.

Flowers

The fact that so many people have not been bought or brought flowers before saddens me. I had a conversation with a friend and asked if they had ever been bought flowers; despite having multiple previous partners, they said no. It wounds me to know that so many people have never been appreciated in such a way; it doesn’t take much to buy some flowers, or even just pick some from a field, and yet they had never experienced being given flowers by someone they love. Just get your friend(s) or lover(s) some flowers; doesn’t matter where they came from, doesn’t matter their gender or sexual orientation, they’re just flowers. Normalize being human and showing basic affection.

Everyone must see the cozy cat boy Virgil.

Catboy!Virgil surrounded by every pillow/plushie etc. in existence. Just a cozy boy in bed.

He's so cozy.

If you like, please reblog. <3