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i have gotten to a point where if i’m in a public space and i think someone has seen me reading on ao3 i try to be like you know what?? good. because no listen if you see me reading + you can tell it’s a fanfic + you can tell it’s ao3 +bonuspoints you know what fandom it is because you recognise someone’s name, maybe that’s fate. maybe fate brought you to the row behind me on this airplane. maybe you were meant to read ninety one whiskey. maybe you were meant to read I was screaming your name through the radio. like idk man i think it’s fate i think maybe you should. what are the fucking chances

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“dear sam…”

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also now that I’m finished with spn, obviously I’ll look for some myself (and have) but I’d really appreciate anyone giving me all the best destiel fics & edits you already have and/or send me art ideas for me to make more spn drawings (though I do already have some), I want it all

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Sketch for The Truth by @wanderingcas!!!! The scream I screamt when reading this scene!!!

(Spoilers for ch9 ig)

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Quick 91w doods

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Danny and Rusty being boyfriends for 3 minutes in Ocean's Eleven which I'll be making the second part later.

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Criminal that we didn't have a Supernatural vintage car show episode, come on now

Dean can infiltrate no problem bc he genuinely knows everything about cars and gets super into discussing fixes, gets wildly side-tracked, while Sam goes off to interrogate a bunch of car-enthusiast hot milfs

Dean is glued at the hip to Cas and Cas always stands awkwardly at the Impala, doesn't know anything about cars, so everyone just assumes Cas is the boyfriend who showed up for support? And the hot young ladies in shorts and boots befriend him bc he's apparently one of the hot girlfriends? And so he gets insight into their lives and solves the case, leading them final-girl style through the monster showdown in a garage full of heavy machinery and angry ghosts

Dean watches him emerge from the garage, shotgun in hand, shirt torn and covered in grease, and he bluescreens so hard he just runs past the flock of bombshells in shorts and tank tops (also covered in grease) to clutch Cas to check him for injuries

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a little treat for y'all, this is still a work in progress but I thought id throw a little scrap of it out here, lemme know if you like it, all to plan the whole thing should be up on ao3 by the end of the month. ;)

“On three?” 

The man nodded.

Jack tried to be as careful as possible but there was fuck all he could do for broken ribs. He let him breathe, that is if you could call what he was doing breathing, for a moment once he had him sitting up, one hand lingering on the man's shoulder to steady him, a little surprised and worried that he made no effort to brush it off. 

"Okay." 

“you sure?" Jack asked, stalling, he really didn't like how pale the man's face was, or how his shallow breaths still came with that god awful wheeze-crunch that sounded no different from before, even though he was sitting up now and it should be at least a little better without gravity pressing down on him. Maybe this was worse than he thought. 

“We need to get out of here don't we?" The man said after a moment and Jack sighed, he was right, and stalling here wasn't going to fix anything.

“Just don't go passing out on me” he grumbled, already moving to help the man get to his feet, or rather as it turned out, lift him. Something neither his knees or his back particularly appreciated.     

Upright, the fixer slumped dangerously against Jack, a small sound that could only be described as a whimper escaping him as the movement undoubtedly sent pain flaring, white hot, through his chest. 

Jack winced in sympathy, awkwardly draping the man's arm over his shoulders so he had at least some hope of keeping him upright if he did pass out, something that seemed worryingly likely right now "You good?" he asked softly as his other hand found its way around his waist. 

The man lifted his head then, meeting his eyes, a strange expression bleeding through the pain on his face, "You care."  He said simply, something like surprise in his voice. It was a statement not a question. 

"No" Jack replied automatically, a little defensive, he didn't care, not really, couldn't. But that was a lie wasnt it. Caring in this line of work meant trouble, got you killed, he wasn't supposed to care, but part of him, the same part that had somehow come to care quite a lot about this guy, really didn't give a shit about any of that.     

The man raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile showing in his eyes, as he saw through Jack's inner turmoil. He looked away with a huff “yeah- okay, maybe.” 

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team free will 🪶(from last year)

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I’m so thankful to the ao3 writers in the Wolfs fandom, because I cannot put my thoughts onto paper and you are doing a wonderful job

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Man, Will could’ve killed Jory Ruhl at that river and proceed to slowly turn into a villain but he didn’t. Because of woke

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@deadskincelisonyourpillow

WE NEED TO DIRECT ANY AND ALL SELF-HATRED WE HAVE INTO A CONCENTRATED BEAM AND FIRE IT AT TRUMP

CALL IN THE GAYS WE CAN DO THIS

GET RID OF YOUR SELF-HATE AND GIVE IT TO TRUMP

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oops! it seems i tripped and dropped several million free books, papers, and other resources

https://annas-archive.org

https://sci-hub.se

https://z-lib.is

https://libgen.is

https://libgen.rs

https://www.pdfdrive.com

https://library.memoryoftheworld.org

https://monoskop.org/Monoskop

https://libcom.org

https://libretexts.org

http://classics.mit.edu

https://librivox.org

https://standardebooks.org

https://www.gutenberg.org

https://core.ac.uk

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Angel dont sleep, dean by =brilcrist

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i love you queer people

i love you fat queer people

i love you queer people of color

i love you queer people of different cultures

i love you disabled queer people

i love you differently able queer people

i love you queer systems

i love you neurodivergent queer people

i love you queer people of different religions

i love you intersex people

i love you unlabeled queer people

i love you mentally ill queer people

i love you all queer people

happy pride <3