[ Mun is getting pretty tired and might just pass out soon. So sorry if just stop replying. ]

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[ Mun is getting pretty tired and might just pass out soon. So sorry if just stop replying. ]

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Stiles never really cared about financial worth of presents, even less for his friends. He cared so much more about a present that someone had put thought in. And those cooking utensils ? Basically one of the best presents he had gotten in a while. Grinning like a loon, he picked up his phone, dialing Matts number.
inanimisxpuer said: [EEP! Yes! :D]
[ :DDDDDDDDDDDD Yisssss ]
[ i gotta warn u tho ima bout to catch some ZZZ because its 3am woops ]
♔
Send a ♔ if you want to RP with me
[ yiss anytime just come to my ask box and we’ll plot <3 ]
♣
Send me a symbol to receive the following from my muse
Send ♣ for a text not meant for you
[ text sent : scruffy wolf ]: There is this guy that keeps eyeing me and damn am I going home with him tonight.

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come in [closed//beardedbourne]
---- Lucifer dropped what he was doing and looked up at his new visitor. "You've got five minutes to say why you're in here before I smite you--I wouldn't waste them. I neither have the time not patience for games right now."
body piercings
Send a fetish for my muses response to it:
weirdness: 2/10 acceptance: 9/10 interest/willingness: 9/10 other thoughts: Whatever a person wants to do to their body is fine by me.
Even though he hated waking his mentor up from his sleep, the fact that his wings were dirty irked him enough to get to that point. It was like he could, literally, feel, everything starting to build up. He was elated that his request was granted. He went toward the bed and, when he was close enough, turned around, sat down on the bed, and spread out his wings.
Yawning, Castiel lifted his right hand and started at the top of the down feathers with his cleaning. Gently pushing his fingers into the mass of feathers, he lightly drug them downwards, through the middle coverts and the greater coverts and knocking clumps of dirt loose. He was silent as he worked, his hands working on auto pilot as his eyes fought to stay open.
After he'd repeated the process on Malachi's left wing --from where it joined his shoulder to the very tip-- and there was a fairly large pile of dirt and loose feathers on his bed, Castiel slumped forward and leaned on the younger angel. "Coffee," he whimpered at him before sitting back up and rubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands.