#smartassisms

[bossyisms]

[text] The bed is definitely broken beyond repair…

[ sms ;; dALECtable ] Listen. I got no regrets.[ sms ;; dALECtable ] Like 0

[bossyisms]

[text] I don’t want to talk about it

[ sms ;; dALECtable ] Well, suck it up and tell me what’s going on.

[bossyisms]

[text] ARE YOU TRYING TO SEXT ME?

[ sms ;; dALECtable ] Well, I was trying[ sms ;; dALECtable ] but someone is apparently more skilled at ruining the moment than I am at sexting 

[swallowedblood-archived]

smartassisms liked for a starter:

     ❝ who the hell are you? ❞

[covetsdeath-blog]

┼

▒ ;     send me ┼ for my muse’s reaction to walking in on your muse 

3. unconscious 

   He'd taken the boy in, granted he was a little weary over   the fact that he was sporting the same exact mug as his own,   he'd run every test he could think of to make sure the guy   wasn't some sort of shapeshifter. As far as Dean could tell,    he was a lot like himself. A smart mouth with no where to   really belong, and hell, call him a bit softened after being   cured.

Knowing Sam was in the bunker, he trusted things to stay relatively calm as he went off to grab some grub, coming back in with a nod from Sam which indicated him over toward the hall. With in n' out in hand, the hunter followed through, making his way toward the bedroom he'd called his. It was cracked open slightly, free hand raises to nudge at the door silently; hues freshly ivy flickered up to find the boy curled up on top of the bed. He looked slightly uncomfortable, but he was knocked out cold. He looked on to Alec for a moment, nostalgia brimming him, the other reminding him of a time when he'd been much lighter.

       Carried far less grief. With a slow breath in he glanced down       to the food, before flicking the light off and closing the door,       walking back out toward the bunker's main room. 

   ❛ Kids knocked out, I'll lettem' sleep. Burger? ❜