Dean *heart eyes at Cas*: Cas, I’d like to say that you’re beautiful both on the inside and out but I haven’t been inside you yet…

Dean: we had slushees.

Cas: I had a red one and Dean had a blue one.

Sam: oh.

Steve Rogers, an artist during the 30’s and a soldier during WWII who knows full well what Dadaism and fatalistic humor are: There’s bleach under the sink–

Bucky Barnes, the guy who listened to Steve’s art rants in the 30’s, watched his back in WWII and went through 70+ years of shit: –And a rope in the supply closet if you want options.

Not to be that person but…

Dean not drinking heavily, just sipping at whiskey and trying not to think about what Cas might be doing, what Cas might be - wearing, what Cas might have on his mind.

Dean accidentally staying out too late, and the taxis are all gone and it’s starting to rain and there are other solutions, there are a hundred things he could do that aren’t calling Cas, but still the phone’s by his ear and next thing he knows, Dean’s saying, please just come get me.

Castiel arriving in his crappy car, peering up at a soaked Dean through the window and gesturing him inside. Dean collapsing into the car and shaking his wet head and saying, thanks.

Castiel saying, I’ll always come for you. And Dean snorts and brushes it off because it’s way too much, it’s embarrassing, but - but not that bad, really.

Castiel taking seventeen steps past Dean’s bedroom door, when they get inside - and Dean taking one, two, three, all the way to seventeen, following him. Castiel doesn’t look surprised - just a little hopeful, Dean thinks. Just a little happy. Maybe even a lot happy.

Dean saying, can I…

me, under my breath: gay fanfiction

literature professor: what

Stephen: What’s a “matter baby”?

Tony: Nothing, sweetie, what’s wrong with YOU?

Benedict Cumberbatch talks about jumping out of an Uber to help stop a Deliveroo food delivery cyclist from being mugged in London. (v) 

Bruce: I think-

Tony: Seventy-two hours

Bruce: How did you-

Writer: Air shot between the toes, it’ll look like a heart attack.

Serial killer: anywhere from 2 to 30 minutes

Steve: *licks Bucky’s cheek*