— COSMOS / *

"I want to blame it on the kids, because at least I get to blame it on something. But it's probably mercury being in the microwave again." Dean let out an overdramatic sigh as he picked up his bagel, almost looking like a beat up puppy as he did so. His poor, perfectly great, free bagel was now ruined. God damn you, kids! "Dude, fuck no!" He shook his head, letting out a heart-warming laughter at the other's question. He understood that yes, it did look like he was about to eat it, especially since he was so happy to have gotten one free of charge and the line was long as hell, but no. He wasn't that much of a dumbass. "I'm dumb, I'm not stupid." Dean clarified, before motioning his head towards the nearest dumpster and throwing his bagel there. "So long, friend. You'll be missed." He waved his food goodbye, before turning towards the kind stranger, who was offering theirs. "Wait, why don't you want yours? You waiting in line though... how about we share it? Like we're on kindergarten again." Dean suggested instead. "I'm Dean, by the way! I feel like I know you from somewhere though... but maybe you just have one of those faces?" / @remisolis

“good lord!” saul felt dean before he heard him, the pressure of the younger man’s hands on his shoulders making him nearly jump out of his skin. “are you trying to give an old man a heart attack?” he had been waiting at the entrance for a few minutes, having left the market a little while ago. he felt a little improper, not picking dean up and taking them both to the movies in his lexus, but he tried to reason with himself: dean was a grown man, not a child that didn’t know how to drive, and he wasn’t his son. they were friends, despite the large berth of their age gap. he hadn’t gone on to marry dean’s mother ann—though he might’ve if they kept on dating according to his track record—so there was no actual familial relationship between them. for all intents and purposes, they were two grown men going to see a movie on a friday night. dean was not micah, and if micah were actually in front of him now, he doubted he’d have the same smile on his face that dean currently had. another reminder of his numerous failures. saul pushed that out of his mind and placed a hand on dean's shoulder. “i’m absolutely ready. and i'm doing alright, thank you. how are you? how’s your mother?” though their relationship naturally came to an end, he still had a lot of affection for her, and hoped she found someone that would make her happier than anyone ever before—there was a reason why saul maintained he was a better friend than a boyfriend. “i must admit i’ve only seen the first movie. i think i was in college when the second one came out and i was too busy for the movies back then, so i might have to read the plots of the other movies on the internet later.”

"Dude, you're always saying that you're old, I kind of think that you think you're like—ninety years old or something." Dean laughed, throwing one arm over Saul's shoulders, while the other gently patted on the man's chest. He didn't think fifty-something was that old. Besides, his own mother was a few years older than Saul and she didn't complain this much about being old, so maybe the lawyer had some sort of age complex he was struggling with? Some mid-life crisis of some kind? "I'm alright too..." Should he talk to Saul about maybe having developed feeling for two different people? The man wasn't his actual father, and Dean had never had the closest relationship to his older siblings, so maybe Saul was the best person to talk about it... "Mom's okay! She sent you her best." Because of course Dean had told his mother he would be seeing Saul that evening. "She's on grandma duty tonight so that my older sister and her husband can have a night out." Again, he explained. "I don't think I've ever seen this movie either. I've seen the old ones... the classics. And maybe the girls one? I liked that one... You want some popcorn and soda?" / @saulweissberg

— Dean Chaiyachet Adulyadej spring market, any day.

See, Dean didn't mind Samar. Actually, it took a whole lot to make the younger man dislike someone, but it was safe to say that the whole back and forth that happened between Sam and Ingrid, wasn't exactly his favorite. Alas, if he were to be honest, if he were to be brutally honest, none of this was any of his business. No matter how close he was to Ingrid, no matter how strong their bond was... whatever happened between these two, was none of his business.

"What makes you think I've been betting all the much in the first place, hm?" Dean questioned Ingrid right back, out of pure spite, because he knew she was joking too. Finally, the du had decided that enough was enough and that they deserved a nicer place to call their own, especially with Freya being so close to leaving them. If Dean was feeling the empty nest syndrome when it came to the younger woman, he could only imagine how hard it was being for Ingrid, since she'd been the one to raise Freya from the get go. So they'd been looking at places to rent in different neighborhoods, especially the ones that seemed to be big enough for the two of them, but cheap enough for the two of them. "You're the one who've been living with a professional gambler!" He said, pointing to Freya, who retorted by smacking him and saying he was lying, only to have Dean burst out in a laugh. "You're the one trying to take money off me, kiddo!" Dean then threw his arm over Ingrid's shoulders, pulling her close to him. "Look! She's off to steal our money like she stole our hearts! Devilish little woman she is!" / @ingridlczano

A bone deep craving for connection to other people had always seemed to run contrary to the level of anxiety Frankie carried on any given day; tucked somewhere around her heart, perhaps, so that no matter what the day might have brought she'd still find a way to feel it. That in and of itself wasn't a conscious choice and if she was lucky― or feeling particularly good on any given day― she could simply ignore it. She felt that way now, with Dean's arm wrapped around her― as though she couldn't possibly be nervous or anxious about something that simply seemed to fit together in her life. Perhaps it was too much pressure? On both of them, really. She wasn't exactly carrying a sterling track record around when it came to being interested in anyone.

"As if the Doctor didn't give his companions shit—affectionately." Dean turned his head, as if to bite Frankie's finger off as she poked his cheek rather gently. To someone who had never been ashamed of his affectionate ways, the ones around him tended to keep their hands to themselves, so of course, he enjoyed whenever people touched him, caressed him, embraced him.

it's  been  a  moment  since  evrim  has  been  in  a  place  of  worship.  they  feel  like  an  inside  and  an  outside  at  the  same  time.  an  imposter  but  someone  who  knows  how  to  act  inside  a  church  despite  their  terrible  attitude.  they  hear  the  message  but  don't  feel  god's  presence.  there's  fellowship  here.  it  shows  in  the  groups  of  friends ,  colleagues ,  and  community  members  huddling  around  their  chosen  tables.  yet ,  no  one  had  yet  to  approach  evrim.  they  sit  alone  at  their  table ,  eating and observing.  not  that  they're  crying  about  it  or  anything ; they prefer it this way. they're use to it this way.

Dean was both happy and relieved that he'd been allowed to share the table with the brunette, despite not knowing them. It wasn't everyone that allowed a random, total stranger to share the table with them, and, well... Dean quite often didn't keep his promise of keeping to himself as it was easier for him to simply start chit-chatting about anything and everything under the sun. "Thank you, thank you!" He smiled, happily humming to a random song someone from his chat had suggested the streamer to add to his playlist, and that now, was stuck in his head since the night before.

"Oi, you're going to lose privileges altogether if you keep teasing me about it," Frankie said, a note of petulance in her voice that was almost entirely put on. It was taking nearly every bit of self-control she possessed not to grin like a madwoman simply because she was in Dean's presence― she wasn't about to delve into the 'why' of that particular urge, of course. Or... she wasn't going to delve into it for the next few minutes― the day was young, after all, and her mind had a tendency to fixate on things whether she willed it or no. A snort was her only response to his question and she leaned into him just a bit more without answering before her eyes flickered to his face and she shrugged in return. "I suppose I'm just a professional spoil sport. I'm not saying we couldn't but I am saying we need to work on your idea of a master plan because 'oh, just grab it!' isn't much of one, love," She finished, pointedly drawling as the endearment tumbled from her lips.

In the year and a half she'd been living in Providence Peak she'd gleaned that the spring festival was a highlight of the year― a glowing recommendation by every account considering how readily the town seemed to throw itself into celebrating anything. Standing in the middle of downtown with a crowd that seemed to thrum with excitement and good cheer, well, she couldn't deny that they might've been onto something when it came to bringing people together. Of course, her train of thought was well and truly derailed the moment Dean's arm slipped around her shoulders and she jumped so hard it was all she could do to keep the wine in her hand in the cup it had been served in. "Shite!" Frankie's voice cracked in the split second before she began to laugh and tilted her head to meet Dean's eyes and offer him a smile of her own. "Where exactly do you plan on putting it? I think this plan might need a few more steps, love," Frankie said. She reached up to tangle their fingers together where Dean's hand was draped over her shoulder and valiantly chose to ignore how she felt about having done it in the first place. "Mm, I'll see what I can do. We'll ignore that I can't weigh more than fifty-five kilos soaking wet but I suppose I'll make up for it somehow," Frankie declared with a dramatically put upon sigh. "Are you having fun, then?"

Suffice to say, of course Dean started laughing as soon as he noticed he'd spooked Frankie. Granted, it wasn't his intention to give the petite doctor a heart attack of any kind, but it was always funny to see her get spooked like that. "Ayy talk British to me, Doctor Who. Call me love again." He leaned down, planting a kiss on Frankie's cheek and then, shrugged, thinking about her question. It wasn't like he was planning on shoving a big bottle of wine like that anywhere, but it was still fun to tease Frankie like that. "Tsk tsk tsk, why must you ruin the fun by asking logical questions like that, huh?" But in the end, she was right. His plan did need more planning.

Dean's wording cut Ty's argument off, her head nodding once. There weren't many things she could understand and have sympathy for, but money troubles was one of them. She'd grown up with nothing and even if that part of her life was different now, there were a lot of habits from that time of her life that had stuck. "Nah, I get you. That's fair. We'll just have to make the time you paid for worth it," she shrugged, willing to offer to make that happen if it kept him from feeling that the money he'd spent had been wasted. "And don't be an ass, it's not thousands each fight." Ty paused for a moment to snort before continuing. "It's millions, so. Get it right." With the prize purse and the windfall of money in sponsorships and other stupid shit that she did, she did more than well for herself. "It's nice having one at home. I've got a full gym in my basement with all the fighting stuff. It's sick. But, yeah, next fight is coming up soon in Vegas and then I don't have another one for like...dunno. Six months to a year probably. Be here tomorrow. Same time about. We can get something in then before I'm out?"

"Psh, my bad, Million dollar baby!" Dean teased Tyler. You know, from the looks of how things had started between them, he was actually glad that they were able to work things out because Tyler was actually pretty dope. He could definitely use someone this cool in his life. "Dude... you've got a gym in your basement? That is so fucking dope!" His jaw almost dropped at the fighter's words. "Uh... can you fucking not? I'd like to stop envying your amazingness if possible?" If he had room for a gym in his apartment, Providence Peak's streets wouldn't see him ever again. "Alright. Tomorrow then. I'll be here!" / @tysingh

The man in front of her was surely some sort of angel in disguise. For a brief moment there she felt like she was setting herself up for a day in despair. No amount of chocolate cake or pampering by Freddie would be enough to replace Baklava. Not today. “Really? Ten minutes is nothing. I’m definitely happy to wait.” Heck, she’d wait an hour for them if need be. “You’re my saving grace today. Thank you.”

Dean chuckled. Sure, he made a mean baklava, but this was the first time he'd heard someone call him a 'saving grace' over the baked good, but he would take it. "Dude, no worries at all! If I could I would even give you one free of charge." He chuckled. Of course, Dean knew he couldn't. Verda would have his head if he ever did something this reckless, but still he felt like hugging the blonde. It was a nice pet to his ego, of course. "How many should I bring?" His phone went off almost at the same time as the ding in the kitchen, so Dean excused himself after her response and brought back the amount the blonde had asked him for. He checked them in the register and waved her goodbye almost as soon as Ingrid returned to her spot by the register.