Imagine your OTP loving to stargaze, but living in a city where the sky is blocked by smog. So they lay on a roof and make constellations out of airplanes and the lights from cell towers instead, and fall asleep in each others arms.

Imagine your OTP arguing about what color to choose for the new baby’s bedroom. 

“Of all modern notions, the worst is this: that domesticity is dull. Inside the home, they say, is dead decorum and routine; outside is adventure and variety. But the truth is that the home is the only place of liberty, the only spot on earth where a person can alter arrangements suddenly, make an experiment or indulge in a whim. The home is not the one tame place in a world of adventure; it is the one wild place in a world of set rules and set tasks. - G. K. Chesterton -”

the first few days, cas refuses to eat because he doesn’t want to accept that he has to.  so dean makes apple pie, cheeseburgers, cookies, literally every comfort food he can think of.  and every day he’ll just set the plate down in front of cas and give him a small kiss on the temple, silently encouraging him to try it.  and when cas finally eats, he discovers that he loves food, and he loves dean’s food, and he loves dean more than anything 

Avengers Fic: Phil Coulson Wasn't Grown In a Lab (He Has a Mom) pt. 6

((I know.  It’s so overdue that it’s embarrassing.  I’m TRYING, okay?  Previous parts are linked here: http://scifigrl47.tumblr.com/fic  ))

“You do realize that we live in the most exciting city in the Western world,” Phil said. “New York. The Big Apple. The city of cities.” He leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a faint half smile on his face. “I love my city. Best city in the world.”

“I don’t know,” Shirley said, her lips pursed. “I’ve always liked Paris.”

“I like Paris,” Clint said. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on either side of his legs, his body canted forward. “I really like Paris.”

“Phil speaks French,” Shirley said.

“Fluently,” Clint agreed. “Why do you think I like Paris?”

Phil glanced in their direction just in time to see them exchange a smile. “Yes, well,” he said, not sure just how worried he should be about this new partnership, “we live in New York. People all over the world flock to New York. Culture, history, entertainment, everything you could want.”

“Is there a point to this, Phil?” his mother asked.

“Why are we in the basement playing with the vacuum cleaner?” Phil glared at Mr. Fantastic, who was hovering in what he considered a threatening manner directly in front of him.

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