UPDATE - PLEASE READ

i never post on this blog, so new followers, please go to my writing blog, migrantdean, or my wincest/poetry blog, righteous-man. like seriously, this is just my main - i never use it, except for messages and the like

go follow my other blog. i actually post original content on there, so what are you still doing, following this piece of garbage?

thank you

anxietycastiel:

homohighness:

“u kno what, bro?”
“what?”
“if i were a cat, i’d spend all 9 lives with u”
*clutches heart* “… bro”

@winchesterwhisky

@syzygycas

500 - follower art/fic giveaway!

migrantdean:

Guys. I am so fucking happy, okay? I never thought I’d get this far, to be completely honest. I love each and every single one of you, and I’d really like to get to know you guys better!

So, to celebrate this incredible milestone, I’m going to do a giveaway!

rules:

-Must be following me. I understand if you follow just to enter the contest, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d just check out my writing tag? It’d be super cool of you B)

-Reblog this post to enter. You can reblog as many times as you want, but likes don’t count. 

-Keep your askbox open! If I don’t get a response within 48 hours, I will select another name and I will give the prize away to them.

-I am literally going to be pulling ‘names’ from a hat on this one. Each reblog earns you one sheet of paper with your url on it; I don’t care if this gets 1k notes, I will write every single one of you down on paper.

-I will not publicly post the prizes unless I have express permission from the winners. Winners, please do not post your gifts without crediting me.

-There will be one grand prize winner, a first runner-up, and a second runner-up.

-The subject of the art piece or story can be anything you choose as long as it is not nsfw. Examples of art pieces can be found here.

-Giveaway ends Midnight (Eastern Standard Time) on November 22.

prizes:

grand prize winner:

-a choice from any type of media listed

-a maximum of 5k words written for them

first runner-up:

-a charcoal sketch/ink drawing/ marker drawing/ pencil drawing

OR

-a maximum of 2.5k words

second runner-up:

-an ink drawing/marker sketch/pencil sketch

OR

-a maximum of 1k words

If you have any questions, please don’t be afraid to ask!

Thank you all so much, and good luck!

IMPORTANT!!!

killjoyantihero:

pyroduck:

killjoyantihero:

ovofeels:

versace-g0ld:

versace-g0ld:

PLEASE READ:

I don’t care if this ruins your blog and doesn’t fit with the theme. YOU HAVE TO REBLOG THIS; you could save a life, and that this moment, it’s really important that you do that.

It is said to be that ISIS have announced that their next targets are ROME, WASHINGTON  and LONDON. If you’re in ANY major city, PLEASE leave get your loved ones out. The cities are no longer safe, the world is broken and I can’t stress how important this is. YOU NEED TO LEAVE ANY MAJOR CITY NOW. If you can’t PLEASE, stay in your homes, stay inside where it’s safe. I am begging you, please stay safe.

MAJOR CITIES:

Tokyo, Japan
New York, USA
Sao Paulo, Brazil
Mexico City, Mexico
Manila, Philippines
Mumbai/Delhi, India
Jakarta, Indonesia
Lagos, Nigeria
Kolkata, India
Cairo, Egypt
Los Angeles, USA
Buenos Aires, Argentina
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Moscow, Russia
Shanghai, China
Karachi , Pakistan
Paris, France
Istanbul, Turkey
Nagoya,Japan
Beijing, China
Chicago, USA
London, UK
Shenzhen, China
Essen/Düsseldorf, Germany
Tehran, Iran
Bogota, Colombia
Lima, Peru
Bangkok, Thailand
Johannesburg/East Rand, South Africa
Chennai, India
Taipei, Taiwan
Baghdad, Iraq
Santiago, Chile
Bangalore, India
Hyderabad, India
St Petersburg, Russia
Philadelphia, USA
Lahore, Pakistan
Kinshasa, Congo
Miami, USA
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
Madrid, Spain
Tianjin, China
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia
Toronto, Canada
Milan, Italy
Shenyang, China
Dallas/Fort Worth, USA
Boston, USA
Belo Horizonte, Brazil
Khartoum, Sudan
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
Singapore, Singapore
Washington, USA
Detroit, USA
Barcelona, Spain
Houston, USA
Athens, Greece
Berlin, Germany
Sydney, Australia
Atlanta, USA
Guadalajara, Mexico
San Francisco/Oakland , USA
Montreal, Canada
Monterey, Mexico
Melbourne, Australia
Ankara, Turkey
Recife, Brazil
Phoenix/Mesa, USA
Durban South, Africa
Porto Alegre, Brazil
Dalian, China
Jeddah, Saudi Arabia
Seattle, USA
Cape Town, South Africa
San Diego, USA
Fortaleza, Brazil
Curitiba, Brazil
Rome, Italy
Naples Italy
Minneapolis/St. Paul, USA
Tel Aviv , Israel
Birmingham, UK
Frankfurt, Germany
Lisbon, Portugal
Manchester, UK
San Juan, Puerto Rico
Katowice, Poland
Tashkent, Uzbekistan
Fukuoka, Japan
Baku/Sumqayit, Azerbaijan
St. Louis, USA
Baltimore, USA
Sapporo, Japan
Tampa/St. Petersburg, USA
Taichung, Taiwan
Warsaw, Poland
Denver, USA
Cologne/Bonn, Germany
Hamburg, Germany
Dubai, UAE
Pretoria, South Africa
Vancouver, Canada
Beirut, Lebanon
Budapest, Hungary
Cleveland, USA
Pittsburgh, USA
Campinas, Brazil
Harare, Zimbabwe
Brasilia, Brazil
Kuwait, Kuwait
Munich Germany
Portland, USA
Brussels, Belgium
Vienna, Austria
San Jose, USA
Damman, Saudi Arabia
Copenhagen, Denmark
Brisbane, Australia
Riverside/San Bernardino, USA
Cincinnati, USA
Accra, Ghana

Please guys, reblog this out of love and respect.

**Also tagging my usual tags to raise more awareness**

THIS NEEDS MORE AWARENESS! PLEASE I BEG YOU, REBLOG IT, SHARE IT ON SOCIAL MEDIA. THIS NEEDS TO BE HEARD, PLEASE THIS COULD SAVE SOMEONES LIFE!

stay safe y'all

@pyroduck i’m one of the cities lmao

Good luck Kid..

so serious. jesus.

shit i’m in one of these and i know many others who are in possible danger. please don’t take this lightly

casandsip:

everythingelsegoesherethen:

@casandsip​ @aria-lerendeair​ @migrantdean @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell​ ty for the idea and welcome to the palace

I’m thinking about the boys’ and Castiel’s mind palaces
I’m too tired to write out the fucking tidal wave that just hit me at that
But Castiel’s palace would be /massive
constructed from the vestiges of previous eras.
There’d be rooms upon /rooms dedicated to humanity’s achievements
but only some devoted to his family
and no one can tell but him.
He wasn’t supposed to be designed this way
His duty,
His honor,
His family,
His /everything as dictated to him by his very /wiring
was suppoesd to come first
but instead he met two boys
and an old drunk
and other things began to bleed in.
Suddenly it wasn’t just the tower of babel getting built and crumbling to the ground
Over and over and over again.
Suddenly it was dean’s inability to start the morning without coffee,
It was sam’s particular organization scheme and how he laid out his books when he was researching
It was the curl of fingertips against his sleeve
saying
“///Cas.”
“I ///need you.”
“We’re //family.”
Suddenly it was his duty coming second
as loss and tragedy and betrayal
and /love
so /so much love
started to creep in and take over
Castiel does not stroll through his mind palace often
but now in every corner there is one sound
“/Dean.”

but have you all considered
dean’s mind palace
it’s not the impala, that’s too simple
it’s a house, one that mostly exists only in his mind
because he tells himself it’s his childhood house from before mary died
but deep down he knows that he probably made most of the details up
and there are so many rooms he can’t access
so many things he literally locked away
rooms he doesn’t ever go into because he’s too scared of what he’ll find
he sticks to the living room
where he knows he’s safe, and he knows he can’t find anything he doesn’t want to face
but the truth is
that the living room looks a lot like john and a little like sammy
but not at all like /dean
and then one day cas literally explodes into his life
and cas is so huge and so messy that dean can’t shut him away
even though at times he desperately wishes he could
because those are feelings he doesn’t want to deal with
cas lights up the whole house with his grace
and slowly the other doors start to creak open
dean doesn’t even have to go into the rooms; they’re so full that things just start to fall out
it should be terrifying
it /is terrifying
and suddenly john’s there, yelling at dean to keep those doors closed, don’t feel those things
but cas spreads his wings
this celestial force making a physical barrier between john and dean
protecting dean cas’ first and only goal
(just as it always is)
because angels are watching over dean
even inside his own mind

I really like the idea behind this, but I always saw Dean’s mind palace (not to be too cliche or obvious here or anything) as a dusty old crossroads in the middle of the country. He’s always liked driving out in the boondocks, with few interruptions and the long expanses of asphalt, the sky and the plains two governing bodies at the end of his little world. There’s a bar, somewhere, close by, and one scraggly lane leads to a little town with a fill-up station that sells candy bars for fifty cents. 

In the center is a dying tree, one with his and some old girlfriend’s initials carved into the bark with a heart around them. It’s pitiful, one gust of wind away from falling over, but it provides shade on bad days, and it’s fertilized with his father’s ashes

There’s a road, mostly broken asphalt and weeds with two deep ditches on the side, that’s been walked down so many times that there’s tracks in the ground where his feet would go. This way’s the easiest, he knows, leading to the pub where he can slip into old routines and new beds like butter on a Louisianan griddle. 

Opposite of that is a gravel road, it’s pebbles a little less used to his walking but familiar all the same. This leads to the fill-up station and the library, and the few storefronts with their upstairs apartments. This is where he sneaks away to, on the rare occasion where he’s alone and he’s himself. But the shadow of the dying tree follows him there every time, and every time he returns it grows steadily along the horizon like an ominous, monolithic deity. 

Then there’s a dirt path, cutting through the grass to a wooded lot so far away he can squish the maples with his two fingers. He’s only ever taken this road in his dreams, where it’s (mostly) private and anything can happen. Only when the moon’s out, though, and when the stars are so loud that they drown out the sound of his scuffling. 

The last one is a paved road, smooth and infallible. He never looks down that way - never lets himself look down that way, has never even touched the pavement with the bottoms of his shoes.

But then Castiel comes along, blasts the dead tree out of it’s place and plants a new one, one that has leaves and blossoms in the spring and birds come to live in, one that they decorate in lights during the summer and sit under during the fall and reverently gaze at during the winter. 

Dean is blindfolded and spun around in circles and led down a trail, and his feet don’t recognize it but he knows the feel of Castiel’s hands at his back and they are steady and unwavering, so he soldiers on and walks further and further until the blindfold is removed and there is a house, with a picket fence and three bedrooms. 

And what else can the man do but open the door and walk inside?

Wings.

trustyourdragons:

Wings.
Did you know, they reflect the soul?
My favourite brother’s wings, they’re sleek, they shine,
Black not like night, rather more like coal -
Coal that can burn bright when lit,
Stony cold when otherwise;
So he can light the day or hide, swathed in the night,
His wings are singed, but he doesn’t mind.

Another of my brother’s wings
Are white at the very tips
But quickly, they darken - just as he,
As if he is the darkest eclipse;
He’s loyal, my brother, he knows where he stands -
I’ve never agreed with him, of course;
He and I play different games,
Create different kinds of discourse.

But I digress - another brother of mine,
His wings are the blue of the midnight sky
On a moonless night, just as this,
Which can blind eyes that pry.
He’s just as loyal as my other kin,
But he’s more like a soldier -
Orders taken blindly, no doubt
Even as he gets older.

Of course, my sister; you’d like her, she’s sweet -
She fell before me,
She lost her wings a long time ago
But any of my kin would agree
That she’s a fighter, she’s strong
Her wings were so close to pure flame
Her embers were warm as well as painful,
She doubted without shame.

If you had been an angel in Heaven with me,
I promise I know the look of your feathers:
They’re black at the tips, like my brother’s but reverse,
Then they get lighter - and they’re impossible to tether,
They’d let you soar farther than you’ve ever dreamed,
Away from your worries and woes,
They’re pure and they’re strong, just as you are,
Alongside the starlings, the ravens, the crows.

Oh - my wings, you ask?
They were my pride when I was true,
They could’ve carried me for millennia -
They were golden in hue,
And I loved them, I did,
And I miss them, that too -
But I never could’ve loved them better
Than I love you.