,,we were made for each other”

Steve Rogers, newly hired bodyguard tasked to accompany the prince 24/7. Military trained.

Prince Bucky Barnes, target of a criminal organization. Hates being tailed by security personnel. An equestrian.

“Well, let’s not argue about good sex.” 

Sam: “Dean, this is my girlfriend... Jessica.”

Jessica: “Wait, your brother Dean?”

Dean: “What? No! That’s insane! It’s halloween night, I’m in costume, can’t you tell?”

Jessica: “Then who are you supposed to be?”

Dean: “The crazy stalker ex boyfriend that’ll kill you in your sleep... eventually.”

Sam: “Dean!” -slaps-

Seems like just a little chat between the two of them that took place during the seconds immediately before the GIF I posted last night.

Actually I might as well post that one again too so they’re all in one place.

0 0

hi! hope you’re having a lovely day! i’m trying something different today, i hope you like it!

—

missing him is like missing a limb, like missing a vital organ, like he ripped your heart out of your chest and held it between his palms as he jumped. you can’t close your eyes for fear of replaying it over and over again, and it burns you from the inside out because he was so, so afraid, and he did it anyway. he saved the whole fucking world, and he damned himself to do it, and in doing so he damned you too.

you wake up in the middle of the night, every night, tears drying on your face, and it hurts in that place where your heart should be, phantom pains in your chest, and your hands search for the amulet and never find it, and you hate yourself. it should be you down there, it should be you, for this action if nothing else. this is the biggest wrong of your life and you can never right it.

and one night you realize you love him, you love him in a way you shouldn’t, in a way you can never tell anyone, least of all him because he is not here. he is miles and miles and miles below your feet, so far out of your reach that you can’t even imagine it, and your chest hurts so sharp and vindicating you can’t breathe.

and here’s the thing – without him, you don’t want to.

—

he comes back – or at least, most of him does, and you want to tell him, you need to tell him, to hold that beloved face between your hands and look him in those stunning eyes and say i love you, i love you, it’s always been you–

but something is missing in there, and whatever it is, it holds your tongue until you swallow the words back down, shove your hands deep in your pockets and force a smile, and whisper to yourself, coward coward coward.

your heart is still missing.

it does not return until death asks you to choose, and you don’t hesitate, and you really should care about the soul you damn with his name, but you don’t. all you care about is right there in front of you, finally whole, and you can finally feel your own pulse again. and you hold him in your arms, and you lie to him, and you tell yourself, not now, not now, not now.

—

he is damned anyway. again, he is damned, over and over again, the devil riding shotgun, your fingers pressed into his palm, and your own heart breaking every time you catch sight of his tired eyes and thin body. you want to fix him, you want to fix the world, and you want bobby back, but most of all you want him to know.

and still the words won’t come out of your mouth. and still the time is never right, you are never drunk enough to say it or sober enough to think about it. and he doesn’t sleep at night, you don’t either, and both of you pretend you aren’t watching him every minute of every hour of every night.

i’ll say it, you tell yourself the night before you go for dick roman’s ass. we’ll win, and i’ll finally tell him.

you never get the chance.

—

“He knows I’m going to take care of him.”

December 08: Sam and Dean

Stargazing is iconic for Sam and Dean, so I wanted to give it a shot!