Hi, Name's Rosalyn.
(she/her, they/them) , aro ace, Cosplayer, dancer. ~
This is my personal blog. ~
🌹Kaya Addict 🌹Jrock/vk, idols, TV shows, comics❤️
shipping(beware controversal ships), fangirling, rping, fanfiction. Also beware of the tags, there is some #nsfw here.
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All excited for 10x12 (thanks to spoilers) but how about de-aged!sam? coughcolinfordcough
TELL ME ABOUT IT! God I need that so badly.
I WOULD SELL MY SOUL (PREFERRABLY TO CROWLEY) FOR THIS!
No freaking kidding, man!! There are no words.
Exactly. More Sam-centric episodes are overdue. I have Sammy feels. I need it so badly.
Yess :( I feel like they dropped the hat this season- they could have had Sam go super dark and redeem himself this season along with Dean. They made it seem like Sam had gone off without Dean, but they resolved that in Paper Moon. Honestly I was hoping for him to use his psychic/demon blood powers, that would have been cool and he could have had lots of development this season after that. Just my idea >.>
Gah stop it Rach, don’t get me even started on this. I had pretty much the same thoughts. I’m totally with you.
The tongue darts out just briefly, licks over pink plush lips, where a droplet of fluid brewed hops had lingered just a moment ago. The glistening lips part and wrap around the cool glass head of the bottle, take it further in, suck on it, waiting for the alcoholic fluid to wash over them.
The first flood comes, then another one. The lower lip is pressed against the underside of the bottle head, catches everything, no drop is wasted. Brushing back and forth, sucking out as much as possible, the bottle is half empty in only a few seconds.
Dean takes a big gulp of his beer. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He closes his eyes for a second when he holds the bottle still, lips puckered up, right before he slowly pulls them back, trying to catch every drop of beer on his tongue in the process. He licks over his lips again as he takes the bottle down and a slight moan escapes his mouth.
(gifs are not mine)
A scream wakes Dean up in the middle of the night. In ten seconds he’s dressed and out in the parking lot, his hand clenched around a flashlight.
Plaid and asphalt are drenched in crimson before him.
