"Expect the best
Be prepared for the worst
Fuck what others think
& do your own thing."
The name's Paula, I'm from Brazil. You can call me Mint Milkshake, or Mint for short.
THIS IS A MASSIVE MULTIFANDOM BLOG
Here you will find specially SuperWhoLock, Hannibal and Avengers, with a bit of anime and games....
WHO AM I KIDDING? I mostly post about Supernatural these days.
You are welcome to stay as long as you want.
Finally, some good advice from Cosmo
im gonna reblog this 300 times a day
i searched up ‘hurdlers without hurdles’ on google and i dont regret it
these boots are made for walkin
the old razzle dazzle
when someone stops talking to you and youre not sure what you did wrong
Oh, right. The marathon. The marathon for Disneyland, the marathon chosen especially to run around Disneyland, Disneyland’s marathon. That marathon?
"I’m exhausted," Dean groans as he all but falls into the rock hard motel bed. After being conscious for nearly two days chasing down a vampire nest, even the lumpy mattress is a godsend.
Castiel is close behind, dragging himself into bed with Dean without so much as a word, eyes half-closed already. As all too often happens, the second Dean is in bed, a ghost of all the adrenaline of the past two days courses through his body, wetting his palms with sweat and sending his heart racing like there’s danger fresh and close. He reaches for Castiel, who willingly closes the six inches of mattress between their bodies.
With every sense heightened, the press of Castiel’s lean body and the wet heat of his breath on Dean’s neck are nearly unbearable. He clears his throat and shifts to try to minimize the impact of Castiel’s nearness; when that fails, he tries to mentally put himself in an ice-cold shower to try to stop the stirring of his cock. He feels like an overexcited teenager when he mutters an embarrassed, “Sorry.”
"For what?" Castiel doesn’t lift his head when he asks, each word spoken soft and throaty against Dean’s neck. He does move enough to drape one leg over Dean’s hip and close the last inch between their bodies.
A thrill shoots up Dean’s spine like an electric spark at the press of Castiel’s half-hard cock against his own through their underwear. He swallows hard and clears his throat again, a reflex. His palm is still sweaty when he lets it settle on Castiel’s muscular thigh, the way his skin drags against Castiel’s worthy of another shivery thrill as he slowly slides it to Castiel’s boxer-clad hip. Cas offers a pleased, soft hum, his leg tightening and his lips finding Dean’s for a lazy kiss even as Dean’s fingers twist in the loose fabric of Castiel’s boxers.
Another kiss follows, then another; each slower and sleepier than the last. As the adrenaline ghosts recede, the press of Castiel’s body slips easily from exciting to comfortable. In the cool safety of their shared space in the tiny edge-of-town motel room, Dean takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly against Castiel’s jaw. Cas shivers almost imperceptibly and sighs, then tucks his head under Dean’s chin.
“‘Night, Cas,” Dean whispers, a fresh wave of exhaustion washing over him as his fingers relax and his hand settles comfortably on Castiel’s hip.
“‘Night,” Castiel murmurs sleepily, his breath soft and even and warm as the last of the tension drains from his muscles.
posted 1 hour ago u with 50 notes
I react to my favorite celebrities names faster than I do my own
Cas, I need you to come back.
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