Elena: So, what would you like for dessert?
Damon: Oh, I was thinking about you with some whipped cream.
Elena: Sounds like a plan.
(Source: petrova-elena, via never-let-go-of-delena)
I would like this very much, yes.
Sure, maybe Dean got a little curious and read some of the stuff Chuck’s crazy fans had written about him. He’d nearly puked at the “Wincest” and wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself at the sight of some of the “Destiel”. Even worse was seeing people seeing “Samifer” — he’d wanted to rip some lungs out at that one.
Wing!kink was weird, gun kinks weirder. In fact, only one idea in “fandom” had ever seemed interesting to him.
His Impala, his baby, coming to life as the most perfect woman, ever.
When it happened, Dean was ecstatic, rushing outside and brushing past Sam’s attempt at an explanation. His jaw dropped at the sight in front of him.
“Hey, Dean,” A low, male voice greeted him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Where was the leather miniskirt? The curves? The tits? Instead, there was this gorgeous man with eyes like the blue LED lights of his baby’s radio, standing in a leather jacket, lips tipped up in a smirk. Dean squinted a little and saw a small chain around his neck, a little toy soldier hanging from it.
“I’m Baby.”Oh. My. Glob. This is lumpin’ amazing.
Wow, guys. I didn’t need to function or do school work today.
Nope, that’s cool.
