[Image ID: There Are Two Images. The First One Shows The Destiel Confession Meme Edited So That Dean

Ploop ploop ploop

First museum dedicated to the history of the Scottish witch trials opens in Fife

The Scotsman

First museum dedicated to the history of the Scottish witch trials opens in Fife

A new museum dedicated to the Scottish Witch Trials has opened its doors in Leven.

Leonard said: “I have over 20 years amassed a curator’s dream of 17th and 18th century items and manuscripts directly associated to the witch hunts of Scotland and elsewhere.

“It’s come to the point I can display this treasure to the public in a museum setting.”

randa needs €4000 by the end of this week to help her family escape genocide and she keeps going several days without a single donation

"battle cries" | the amazing devil (insp.)

and he will roam forever, haunting the desert

dead man's hand - lord huron

Mourning Bucky After His Death in 1945

(Inspired by^ this channel is wonderful, their ambiences always get my head in the right place for writing: beware, angst)

You got the news late, when the Commandos came back from the mission...and there was one missing. They didn't need to say a thing - the gap in their ranks, and the look on Steve's face, said it all.

Being a nurse, you couldn't stop to feel the pain or even really process it. But once the rush ended, and you stepped into the quiet street, everything fell on you at once. Tears poured, and your heart felt like it could burst. Bucky usually picked you up when your breaks came. His absence hit you like a truck.

Instead, you walked along the street in a thin army uniform and shivered all the way. A bitter wind blew through Brooklyn this time of year, but the cold you felt had little to do with the weather.

Somehow, your feet brought you to the old docks where Bucky worked through the summers. That was years ago, now, and seemed like a different life. You couldn't help but smile, recalling the laughter and choice language that used to fill the air.

Once, when you began to realise the full extent of your feelings, you came to the docks and watched him for the whole day. Instead of hiding away how you felt, you relished in it.

Sixteen was a hell of an age to fall in love, especially in the thirties. But reciprocated love...it blossomed and bloomed so beautifully. With Steve, your brother, you and Bucky built a life together.

It was always Steve who talked about their future...without him. The sickly boy never expected to live past thirty, and, despite how painful the idea was, neither did they.

Never in a million years did you imagine Bucky going first.

You couldn't hold it anymore. The sobs ripped out, and you sank to the ground by the water. One hand tightly clasped the other, a cold, glinting ring pressing into your skin. A promise, a commitment...now nothing but a memory. The life you talked about, planned so dreamily, even in the face of the war, gone. Destroyed in an instant.

Deep hatred and a desire for vengance reared its head in you. Bucky always said you and Steve were too alike. But the decision already cemented itself in your mind.

When Steve crashed the Valkyrie, no one was left behind. Two days before, you had vanished on a mission in Switzerland - presumed dead. He had nothing, not even Peggy, really, to keep him on Earth.

Little did he know, that the two sweethearts had been reunited. And Hydra would make good use of them both.

History repeats itself

i sent you omens and all kinds of signs, i taught you melodies, poems and rhymes

lord huron - the yawning grave

well look who it is. my old friend. the conses of my quences.