#waffleheaded

Oh, is that the fox painting you may or may not be giving to your Mom?

OH MY GOD GIRL YOU ARE CRAZY

I know idk what happened I just let everything slip through my fingers

starrla89 replied to your post “my apartment was feeling kind of chilly so I called the landlord to...”

LOL!! Exact same happened to me last winter. Heat was broken for months before I noticed. Glad you can shower without freezing now! :D

It was a new and wonderful experience

waffleheaded replied to your post “my apartment was feeling kind of chilly so I called the landlord to...”

At least now I don't feel so rude having worn a coat during SPN.

littlesweetwinchesters replied to your post “honestly I think ur kinda pathetic”

I sadly identify with this cat. But no. You are awesome

it's hard not to identify with her, she's amazing. but really, thank you :D

starrla89 replied to your post “honestly I think ur kinda pathetic”

Your cat and I are both curled around you, hissing protectively. *claws out*

<33333333333333333

waffleheaded replied to your post “honestly I think ur kinda pathetic”

LIES. You are dangerous with projectiles.

one day I'm going to accidentally hit you in the eye with a paperclip and never live it down

fandomstakesovermylife replied to your post “honestly I think ur kinda pathetic”

you are pretty rad, and I loved that you used that pic of your cat to perfectly decribe your feelings

thank you, you beautiful soul

paintedcastiel replied to your post “honestly I think ur kinda pathetic”

I think ur pretty rad too

Will I use the question? yes (as I am watching buffy now I will be extra inspired) | no | maaaaaybe

mini-promo:  okay so this particular blog is like an equality blog that’s been smushed up with a cat blog which basically makes it perfect, but Dylan also has the best Richard Speight Jr URL in the world which is twitterspeighted and I will forever be jealous of it. Check them both out and follow follow

want this?

I killed it. :(

"I thought yours looked a little tight," Castiel said as his eyes flicked up Dean’s legs. He wiped the barrel of his gun with the last clean rag around the joint, vision just this side of hazy.

Dean shifted with clear discomfort and crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, if you have them-“

"I do," Cas interrupted. He waved his hand noncommittally toward the bedroom of his cabin. "And save the brewing lecture."

Dean grit his teeth and shouldered past Castiel, who chuckled lightly. “Don’t laugh,” he admonished. “How’re you supposed to protect these people if you’re stoned out of your mind?”

Castiel pressed the gun into the hollow of his shoulder, aiming it just above Dean’s head. “I can still follow orders. Lead the charge, Castiel. Save the women, Castiel. Suck my dick, Castiel.”

"Put that down," Dean growled, scooping up his jeans and shucking off Castiel’s tight ones. Cas whistled low, eyebrows raised, setting the gun aside.

"Wanna to give me an order, commander?" He all but purred as he made his way into the room, hands deep in his pockets. Dean’s shoulders fell, the tension easing from them as Castiel got closer. 

"I can think of a few," he muttered bitterly, and rolled his eyes when Castiel just laughed quietly. He jumped as Cas laid a hand on his chest, thumb pressing into his sternum.

Castiel leaned in further, ghosting his mouth across Dean’s stubbled cheek over to his ear. “Give me an example,” he suggested.

Dean’s hands fell to Cas’ thin hips, his jaw still set stubbornly. “We can’t do this,” he sighed. 

"Jane will get over it," Cas advised, and pressed his mouth to Dean’s.

Sourwolf [8:34 PM] There are nine left.

Stiles scrunched his nose up with intense distaste. His stomach had a quota, and 9 was not going to do the trick. He hurriedly texted back: no dice.

He waited for exactly twelve seconds before his response.

Sourwolf [8:36 PM] But there is plenty of honey mustard.

Stiles considered this. The longer he waited, the less chicken he would get. But the more sauce. On... places. He blinked. You may have convinced me.

Sourwolf [8:38 PM] If I haven't, I've grossly misjudged your priorities.

The jingle of Stiles' keys echoed through his house as he all but - but - ran to his jeep. He was a man of regality, after all. He had poise.

But he was also hungry.

Send me a text from last night to get a ficlet!