July 2011
you can eat with them like :
drink like :
dance like :
and you are still normal
accurate♥
9091:
Dean Winchester’s idea of moderation.
Dean Winchester’s idea of “I’ll take that order to go.”
You can still talk, so there’s probably not enough candy in there.
Popeye without the spinach
You can fit one more. I don’t think the area next to your esophagus has anything in it yet.
The Sam Winchester Nostril Flair of Disapproval
Sam: I hate you.
Dean: [unintelligible, sounds like it might be “aardvark rotoscope” but probably isn’t]
Sam: SOON.
“You know I know you’ve seen Sleepless in Seattle, right?”
“What? No. I-“
“And You’ve Got Mail.”
“It’s a touching story-“
“City of Angels-“
“Their love was legendary-“
“And the fucking Notebook. Twice. Dean, look, I know when you’re up at two in the morning you’ve got a choice between infomercials and terrible rom-coms-“
“The Notebook is not a rom-com!”
“-but it’s still a choice.”
“Fuck you, Sam. Is there a point to me hearing you fucking judge me for what movies I like, which, by the way, have all been recognized as feats of cinematic art?”
“There is, actually.”
“If you weren’t my brother I’d kill you. Come on, then, bean stalk. Let’s hear it.”
“You have watched the entire how to manual for cheesy romance, and yet you propose to Cas over an introduction to the tax code?”
“It was the trenchcoat that made me do it!”
“…that’s pathetic.”
“Shut up. Go propose to an angel and see just how easy it fucking is.”
“Fine! Cas?”
“Wait, whoa! I meant another angel. Asshole.”
June 2011
“No.”
“Dean, it’s not really-“
“No, Sam. Cas’s last name is not gonna be ‘of the Lord’.”
“He doesn’t have a lot of options, Dean. What were you hoping for? Winchester?”
“…”
“…oh my god.”
oh okay
___
i can do pictures
;)
___
Dear Priestly,
So.
About those pictures?
Patiently wallowing in sexual frustration,
Jacob
___
i thought i sent one???
i took my shirt off for it
___
Dear Priestly,
…
I would remember if I got that.
Please send another one.
Preferably without your pants on, too.
Hoping you figure out how to work your fucking email,
Jacob
___
think i got it this time!
btw the camera takes off three inches
___
Dear Priestly,
Fuck it. I live at 215 Beaver Street, Derry, Maine, 04401.
Get here within the next four hours and I will give you the mother of all blowjobs.
Good with his mouth,
Jacob
___
oh man
i live in california :(((
i’d love a blowjob rn
____
Dear Priestly,
FML.
Packing his bags for California,
Jacob
Dear Priestly,
Now that I know your name, please tell me where you live so we can fuck in person.
Many thanks in advance,
Jacob
____
dude how did you know my name? omg you are one of those freaks jen warned me about!
____
i mean my friend ken
ken
____
Dear Priestly,
Trust me, I am a whole different kind of freak.
And don’t worry, I’m not a crazy stalker. Not right now, anyway.
There’s a simple explanation for how I know: When you fill in the space asking for your name after signing up for an email address, it shows up in the header for each subsequent email.
I reiterate: please give me your address.
I’d like to know if you really are Priestly Ten Inches.
Very much wanting to cum onto you,
Jacob
P.S. Is it too soon in our relationship to ask for pictures?
