sexually-aggressive-cas:

#Dean the deal is… going down

(via phantomkat813)

and-sealingwax:

soulfisting:

soulfisting:

soulfisting:

soulfisting:

GURRLLL, GURRLL I’M SRS!! MHMMMMM. AH KNOW, AH KNOW! I TELL HIM, I KNOW I TELL HIM DON’ JUMP IN THA PIT SAM, DON’ YOU DARE BOI AN’ WHAT DOES ‘E GO DO? I SWEAR TA JESUS, DEM BOIS ARE GONNA BE THA DEATH O’ ME

HUN YOU’RE PREACHIN’ TO THA CHOIR! DEM BOIS ARE STUPIDER THAN AH BOX O’ DEMONS. I HEAR YA, I HEAR YA! GUESS WE GON’ HAVE TA SAVE THA SORRY ASSES! MMMMHMMM. I TELL DEAN, YOU BES’ NOT GO FIGHT LUCI AN’ HE JUS’ DON’ LISTEN! 

YOU GUYS BE SRS?! YOU GON BE KILLED, I’M TELLIN’ YA! LUCI IS A’ EVIL MOTHAFUCKA AN’ WILL RIP YO WEAVE OU’ BEFORE YOU CAN HOLLA! I’M TELLIN’ YA! WHATEVA, WHATEVA, I AIN’T BRINGIN’ YA’LL BACK TA THA LIVIN’ IF YA GET YO ASS DEAD.

I think I have the wrong number.

(Source: wendigo, via nerd-do-well)

caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas:

caspock:

mostly10:

He didn’t even remember his name. He didn’t know who he was, but he knew who someone else was. The ragged jackets and button-ups. Well worn, well used. He remembered the t-shirts, and the tattered jeans, and the thick sturdy boots. And most importantly, the talisman, the necklace hanging around his neck. It was familiar, safe.

He remembered the weapons- knives, stakes, guns with silver bullets, holy water. And he knew how to use them. Languages, thousands of them, flowed off his tongue with ease. History and knowledge were a part of him, yet he couldn’t quite connect with it. His mind was like a broken record at times. 

But he knew the world was full of monsters- demons, ghosts, vampires, werewolves. He knew it was his job to help rid the world of them. Saving people, hunting things. The family business. 

He clung to the only thing he could, all he had to define himself. A single word that meant more to him than anything. A name that meant he had a family out there, somewhere. 

Winchester. 

And you’re doing this to me because?

(Source: wesleyspecter, via phantomkat813)