Apr 12
gartic phone at two in the morning was gay at best
Loading...
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Austria
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Dominican Republic
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Dominican Republic
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from Dominican Republic
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Sweden
gartic phone at two in the morning was gay at best
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
hello number 1 otp and goodbye artblock 🤑🤑
#Jate
#Kack
Como estas? Como estan los ocs? Alguna novedad?
Adam and Eve
so I heard an interview with one of the directors, he said an early idea was that Jack and Kate would end up being the Adam and Eve corpses found in the caves and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Und wieder war es soweit: der K.A.C.K. (Klub alter cis Kaukasier) traf sich in seinem Geheimversteck, um das weitere Absichern seiner Macht zu gewährleisten. Sie hatten schon viel wichtiges für ihren Erhalt getan. Unter diesen Maßnahmen fanden sich der geniale Einfall die Farben Pink und Rosa als “weiblich” zu kennzeichnen, den Begriff “Festung Europa” wieder positiv zu besetzen, und natürlich Schritt für Schritt die SPD mit karrieristischen Vollidioten zu unterwandern. Und obwohl es in letzter Zeit wieder Weltweit für K.A.C.K. bergauf ging, hatten diese alten weißen Männer, wie es eben ihre Natur war, Angst. Gerade wollte der Vorsitzende, Herr Adolphe Müller, das Eröffnungswort ergreifen, als Stefan Zwiebelknilch, ein sehr alter weiß Mann, sein Lunchpaket öffnete, und ein Duft von Verwesung und schlechten Entscheidungen dem K.A.C.K. entgegenwehte. Mehrmals forderte Adolphe Müller Herrn Zwiebelknilch auf, seinen “Herrentoast” wegzupacken, doch dieser weigerte sich. Wie es in der Natur der alten weißen Männern lag, entbrannte ein komplizierter und undifferenzierter Streit darüber, ob sich der Name “Herrentoast” auf den Geschmack (herrlich) oder seine Exklusivität (nur für Männer) beziehe. Es war auch typisch für den K.A.C.K., dass über diese Diskussion ein Krieg ausbrach und sich beide Parteien mit für sie normaler, für alle außenstehenden aber unverhältnismäßig extremer Waffengewalt niedermetzelten. Überlebende gab es nicht. Der K.A.C.K. war endlich Geschichte. Guten Hunger!
Katherine: You and me. This isn't working out.
Jack: Are you saying we should start annoying other people?
Smug Sam and Confused Jack
It was days like these that Dean enjoyed the most. Just relaxing with his brother and nowadays Jack whom Dean was somehow trusting after their last run in with Asmodus. Days when they just relaxed. Sam had brought them a couple of movies. And Jack made some popcorn as Dean set everything up in Sam’s room.
The movie ended and they walked out of Sam’s room, laughing. Dean went to the bunker’s kitchen to make them some burger and grabbed a pack of beers on his way out. Dean watched as Jack bit through the burger, somehow since the first time he had seen Jack do that to now, Dean started to find it kinda adorable. He ate just like him, he did a lot of things just like him. And that was starting to hurt less since he . . . since he was gone.
The bunker door creaked. Dean instantly got to his feet, pulling out a gun from one of the drawer and so did Sam. Both of them pointed their guns at the door. The door swung fully open and there stood a familiar figure.
“Hello Dean” The tone of his voice hadn’t changed. The look on his face hadn’t changed. He walked down the stairs as if nothing had happened.
“Castiel” Jack called out from somewhere.
Dean’s gun hung limply from his hand. He was too busy looking at the man standing in front of him. The ocean blue eyes were just as bright as they had been the last time he had seen them.
“What are you?” Dean heard Sam’s voice ask the man that somehow looked just like Cas.
“Sam . . .” Cas . . . no, the man that looked like Cas ran out of words just like his Cas often did.
“Which is the first song on the mixtape?” Dean asked. He had not even blinked, fearing that what he was seeing would disappear if he did so.
Dean knew, somehow that if this wasn’t his Cas, he wouldn’t answer it.
“Sweet Home Alabama” Cas said. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Dean in the whole time they’d been here.
With a clunk the gun in Dean’s gun touched the bunker floor. He pulled the angel by the lapels of his trench coat and kissed him. Because he could. Because he wanted to. Because this was Cas, his Cas and nothing could stop him now. Not even himself.
Cas kissed him back the instant their lips touched. The angel ached for the touch just as much as he did. Dean let himself melt into the touch of the angel. The felt his hair, the frame of his face just to make sure that it was indeed Cas.
He parted from Cas, who pulled him closer demanding for more. And Dean complied. He let Cas in, let him explore every inch of his mouth. Touch him like he hanging on for dear life.
They finally broke apart and Dean turned around to see a smug Sam and a very confused Jack.