simsgonewrong:

My sim is willing to try anything to get over her writer’s block.

simsgonewrong:

My sim is willing to try anything to get over her writer’s block.


getoutofmycassbutt:

"work behind the camera" uh huh

getoutofmycassbutt:

"work behind the camera" uh huh

(via sociopaths-have-the-box)


walt-disney-paris:

THIS IS SO ACCURATE

(via itsraininbritishmen)


deanswingsbothways:

So remember the meta where the empty side of Dean’s bed was for Cas?

CAS CAME IN HIS ROOM AND DEAN STARTED CLEARING THE MESS OFF THAT SIDE OF THE BED.

SUBTEXT DOESN’T GET ANY LOUDER FOLKS.

(via sociopaths-have-the-box)



pervydean:

…what have I done? 

pervydean:

…what have I done? 

(via supernaturalapocalypse)


deancasheadcanons:

episode 10x3 highlights:

  • jensen’s acting and directing do not even touch me
  • sam being so coNCERNED that he was gonna accidentally kill his dEMON brother
  • cas taking dean from behind amirite
  • dean running a hand thru his hair
  • deAN IS HUNGRY AGAIN AND SAM IS AN ENABLER
  • "you look terrible" "you’re lookin good" they say to each other in dean’s bedroom  /????//??????? is this a joke to u son

(via supernaturalapocalypse)



justxwannaxbexanxangel:

THAT

FUCKING

SCENE.

THE CONCERN.

THE HAPPINESS

IN THEIR VOICES

CAS TELLING DEAN

IT’S TIME TO REST.

HELP.

-A poem about tonight’s episode

(via supernaturalapocalypse)


They had played hide-and-seek countless times as kids, racing around the motel, taking cover behind doors and trashcans and whatever junk they could find. Sam tried desperately to push this from his mind as he crouched in tense silence in an empty hallway, hiding from his brother.
Not for fun, but for survival.
come out sammy! I’m coming to get you!
It sort of had a different meaning when he was five. He’d try to stifle his giggles as he heard footsteps approaching, clamping a hand over his mouth with anticipation.
sammy, I see you!
Sam always knew dean was bluffing, trying to make him give away his spot- but he would be faster. He always waited until he saw dean’s worn shoe stop on the floor next to him, then he’d make his move.
Sam made the same move as he ducked the hammer and grabbed his brother with not a joyful shout, an outstretched arm ready for tickling, but with a knife drawn in one hand.
And as he stared into his brother’s green eyes, the same eyes that had lightened with laughter as he gave himself away, the eyes that had been carefully watching out for him for his entire life—
He lowered his weapon.
But Dean did not.