This is one of my favourite pictures of Ben.
Then you have martin in the reflection laughing.
THAT IS ACTUALLY HIM OG MY FUCK I THOUGHT IT WAS A COSPLAYER HOLY SHIT
Richard Speight Jr singing paint it black and playing the guitar in Chicago 2010
Sorry for the screaming in the background as it was taken at the event.
Okay, but just… Dean and Cas getting it on when Cas is an angel, and as such, he experiences no physical desire. He does, though, see that Dean craves this kind of connection and that he tends to get aroused in his presence very easily, so he decides to help him out.
So whenever Dean is aroused, he prays to Cas, who usually comes down unless otherwise preoccupied, and takes care of his beautiful hunter. Castiel often uses his hands or his mouth on him, simply because he can’t be bothered to produce an erection, and after Dean suggests it one time, shy and drunk and blushing, he purchases toys that are very handy in bringing Dean pleasure by pushing them in and out of his body, filling him up in a way that he normally couldn’t. Dean seems to love it, never ceasing to cry out Castiel’s name as he ruts against him and presses into the toy that’s being thrust inside, all naked and sweaty and flushed, while Cas often remains fully clothed. Dean tends to desperately clutch at him and kiss his skin and embrace him, forcing himself into his lap and prompting Cas to touch him and kiss him in return, or to hold him down.
Generally, Dean chooses to come on Cas, whether on the trenchcoat, his face, his skin, or sometimes even all over the soft genitalia that once belonged to Jimmy. The angel doesn’t mind — Dean seems to enjoy seeing his release all over the angel, even after he is completely done.
Although Castiel doesn’t experience the same kind of need that Dean does, he knows that sex is a very intimate activity that leaves Dean bare, not only for his state of undress, but also the vulnerability that is obvious in his soft calls for Castiel, his overly warm skin and his half-lidded eyes. Also, even if sex itself doesn’t matter to Castiel, he knows that Dean derives great pleasure from this, from being able to share his satisfaction and open vulnerability with Cas and from being able to touch another body when having sex, even if one-sided. That it makes Dean happy and relaxed and smile at Cas as if nothing in the world could ever be bad, makes him forget how difficult their lives are, makes Castiel happy about their intimacy, too.
I bet Sam and Dean give each other haircuts.
Think about it. They would’ve been too young to go anywhere by themselves while John was away, at least for awhile, and god knows John didn’t make time for things as silly and unnecessary as professional haircuts (Quick Cuts was an experience Sam and Dean got only three times in their first six and ten years of life, respectively), not to mention that with their frequent lack of funds, the extra expense likely could not be rationalized.
I just picture little Sam getting so frustrated with his hair growing over his eyes, that stage where it had just begun to obscure his vision, but wasn’t long enough to tuck back behind his ears. He probably pocketed a pair of safety scissors from arts and crafts time one day, solemnly and silently vowing to return them, and snipped off his bangs in one big chunk, leaving an uneven, too-short fringe in the aftermath.
I imagine Sammy’s little bottom lip fell, plump and quivering, scared that Dad would be mad, worried he’d be laughed at when he got to school the next day. Dean had been banging on the door, whining about having to pee, but his tone changed when he heard Sam’s quiet sniffles. “Sam? C’mon Sammy, what’s wrong, open up buddy.”
When Sam finally opened the door, hiding his forehead with his tiny hands, Dean held him at arm’s length, eyes running up and down his brother, searching for the cause of Sam’s tears. Sam finally lowered his arms to his sides, staring resolutely at the floor as Dean took in the travesty that was Sam’s hair.
A moment passed, then a tiny giggle escaped Dean’s lips, his arms racing to capture his baby brother and tuck Sam against his chest. “Aw c’mon now Sammy, it ain’t that bad. I’ll fix it for you, I promise, okay?” And Sam buried his face in Dean’s sweatshirt, tears soaking it immediately, nodding fiercely. “Okay, De.”
After all this time, they still cut each others’ hair, loving the quiet moments that pass between them as their hands are on each other, comforting one another, fingers slipping languidly through the soft, silken tresses, restoring order to what had become unkempt. Though Dean still teases Sam good-naturedly about that incident so long ago, neither of them would give up this one simple ritual for the world.