The good ones, they’re not heroes because of what they have, it’s what they do with it.
(based on this post)
Cas looks disheveled—well, more so than usual—when he shows up at the bunker. For some reason, he’s carrying a six-pack of beer and a plastic bag of groceries.
It’s the middle of the night. Sam should be asleep. He had tried to be asleep. But these days, either he’s asleep for twenty hours in a row or he’s up in the middle of the night coughing up blood. Tonight’s the latter kind, so Sam had taken his hacking and sputtering into the library to keep from waking Dean.
The six-packs thunks down on the table. Castiel merely looks at Sam. Puppy eyes. He is in the doghouse, after all.
“Uh, Cas, why do you have…” Sam glances into the grocery bag. “Porn?”
“They were out of pie,” Cas says, like that’s an explanation.
Sam investigates the rest of the groceries and notes beer and toilet paper in addition to the porn. He realizes that the groceries are the least of the questions, where Cas is concerned, but where the fuck were you is more Dean’s territory. Sam’s not getting in the middle of that.
Except the bag of groceries is still sitting on the table, forlorn, a little worse for wear. And Cas still isn’t saying anything.
He bought Dean porn.
Sam resists the urge to smile.
Then he realizes that no one else is going to explain this to Cas and has to resist the urge to sigh and rub his temples. He’s coughing up blood, for crying out loud. Why does he have to do this, too?
But he’s so goddamn tired of watching them fight.
“Cas,” he says, as gently as possible. Castiel’s eyes flick toward him, but he remains otherwise motionless. “Um. Sit down.”
BTVS Favourite Moment: One Per Episode | Where the Wild Things Are.
↳Season 4 Episode 18
“We really shouldn’t,” Jenny says, but she’s unbuttoning her blouse, casting her gaze sideways to the window to make sure nobody can see them through the drawn blinds.
“Really,” Giles mutters, his hands sliding under the loose fabric to caress the skin of her back, “Really, I think we rather should.” He kisses her, and Jenny sighs, allowing the warmth of his mouth to spiral through her in low, intense coils of pleasure. Oh, she wants this man so much, and she wants to forget who and what she is and why, wants to throw it all away just for the sake of the wicked thrills as his other hand inches up her skirt.
She glances up at the clock; twenty minutes left, and the hallways are likely empty; perhaps they can enjoy this island of time and peace together, bodies clasped close, before students and gypsies and curses and the rest of the world come roaring back.
Dean just happens to know the greek word for penis.
I’m not saying cas has dirty talked him in ancient foreign languages…
But cas has probably dirty talked dean in ancient foreign languages.
ANGELS CANONICALLY HAVE TANGIBLE WINGS OH MAN OH GOD
tonight i learned my cute irish prof is the type of guy who says earnestly “i’m such a big fan of the theatre of the absurd” when talking about his tastes in comedy, and i can’t help but feel like Cas would be apt to describe himself the same way if forced to watch comedy he doesn’t really get:
“I’m more a fan of the theatre of the absurd, Dean.”
“Yeah, well, you’re absurd,” Dean rebukes gracefully.
“I’m an angel dressed in a trenchcoat watching TV on a cheap motel room’s bed,” Cas shrugs. ”So, yes.”
“Hey, I like the trench though.”
Cas smiles as he ducks his head. “Yes, I know.”
#WEAK SPOT WEAK SPOT #CAS LIKING THEATRE #CAS LIKING THEATRE OF THE ABSURD #CAS LIKING SURREALISM AND EXISTENTIALISM #CAS LIKING DADA#DEAN WATCHING CAS WATCH DADA #’WHAT IS THIS SHIT IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE’ #’IT’S NOT SUPPOSED TO MAKE SENSE’ #i’m crying