his mustache makes up for his terrible personality

I told Amante de Bigote that I wouldn’t post any pictures of us from earlier today, because it was so corny and we felt stupid, but I was looking at what I took and I fucking took a picture of myself blinking! WHO DOES THAT? Me, obvio.

Today was one of the best days ever! Amante and I drove to a roller rink and we were probably the only adults there on the track, which sounds and probably looked creepy now that I think about it more. It was your stereotypical skating rink, where they played every single number 1 hit from 1995 to 2001 like Who Let the Dogs Out, Barbie Girl, and Blue; it was all pretty Hilaribad (I just made that word up and it makes sense for now) . Kids were biffing it left and right and it was glorious.

We also went to the mall to waste some time so we weren’t stuck in traffic, where I learned that fifteen year old girls like to point and stare at a cute man with a mustache; cool, I know he’s a handsome man but y'allz don’t need to throw shade at me because I’m with him! We didn’t buy anything but it made a good day for people watching.

Anyway, (you guys can scroll past, this is gonna make you vom) I’m so lucky to have a sweet, funny, cute dude who wants to take care of me and puts up with my neuroticism and other issues that I cannot fix at the moment. Okay, I’m done being a mushy butthead for now.

anonymous asked:

Okay so I've had this stuck in my head for a really long time and I just need an episode where like Dean and Sam and Cas are working on a case or something and Dean overhears some guy being a huge homophobic asshole and so Dean makes sure to get the guys attention and just kisses Cas right on the mouth

“We need to swing back by that church and check again. The priest has to be connected to something there, right?”

“Yeah, let’s burn the stained glass and see what happens,” Dean responds bitterly. He shoves an entire piece of bacon in his mouth and ignores Cas’ dramatic sigh.

“It’s more likely to be the communion cup or the–”

“I didn’t actually mean that we should burn the glass, Cas.”

Cas angrily squints at Dean, so Dean angrily clenches his jaw back at him.

Sam runs his hand through his hair. “Cas is right. We’ll have to…”

“I don’t want no fag on my fantasy team.”

“…And then regroup back at the motel later tonight. Cas, if you’ll just…”

“What you mean? You see the way he dress? You can’t tell me he ain’t no fruitcake.”

“…OK? Dean? Dean.”

“Hmm?” Dean snaps back to their conversation and reaches across the table for the syrup. “I’m listening.”

Cas’ hand brushes against Dean’s thigh under the booth. Dean bumps his leg against Cas’ and gives him a reassuring smile before turning back toward Sam. “So I spaced out. Whatever. What are we doing?”

As Sam explains the plan once again, the guy with the oppressively thick Southern accent drones on, “I don’t give a flying fuck that he was the MVP, he’s queer as a two-dollar bill.”

Dean digs his fingers into the denim of his jeans, stares down at his plate and inhales his pancakes in order to stop his mouth from saying something idiotic. He comforts himself with the thought that the guy will most likely lose a lot of money with his stupid homo-free fantasy team. 

“Dean? Are you sure you’re alright?” Cas asks quietly as if Sam isn’t sitting directly across the table listening intently.

With a thick swallow, Dean shifts his focus from Cas to Sam and back to Cas. “I’m good, Cas.”

The restaurant is pretty busy, so Dean isn’t sure why he even hears the Southern man so clearly. He’s sitting at least four tables away and has wispy gray hair coming out of the back of a baseball cap that’s seen better days. The man with him is significantly younger even with the bushy mustache and receding hairline. 

“So, Sam and I are hitting up the church and Cas is scoping out Ms. Mathison’s house. Great. Got it. Where’s our check?” Dean rubs his thighs anxiously, searching around the restaurant for an available server to flag down.

“Dude, what’s going on?” Sam asks with those annoyingly concerned eyebrows of his.

“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.” 

Whether it’s stress or anger or just the unfortunate reality of being Dean Winchester, as they slide out of the booth Dean grabs Cas’ hand and all but drags him toward the door. 

He makes it three angry steps before Cas tries to rip his hand away. It’s only then that Dean remembers that not only does Sam not know that Dean is anything other than perfectly straight, he also doesn’t know that Dean and Cas make out like horny teenagers in nasty motel beds while Sam sleeps like a baby less than three feet away. 

Thanks for the coming out party, homophobic redneck. You’re the real MVP.

Amazingly, Sam doesn’t notice. Right before Sam looks up from his phone, Dean lets go of Cas’ hand and wipes his sweaty palm against his leg. Dean clears his throat and makes eye contact with Cas just long enough to see a stupid smirk on the stupid angel’s face. 

Homophobic redneck leans back in his chair, laughing so hard that he actually claps his hands together. Dean stares at the back of his head, wondering what kind of joke would make such a terrible person laugh that much.

As they pass by his table, the man stops laughing and looks each of them up and down. Dean’s heart is beating out of his chest, but he keeps on walking. 

“That’s a mighty pretty haircut you got there, queen.”

Dean spins around so fast that Cas has to stop a hand against his chest to keep him from barreling over the mustached man. Dean’s eyes are so wide they’re watering, but for some insane reason he’s also smiling. 

“You think my brother’s gay, huh? You think his stupid haircut is girly? Oh, hey, speaking of Gurley, I hear he’s gonna have a great year. You should draft him.”

“Dean–” Sam starts.

The scraping of the redneck’s chair cuts him off. He’s much taller than he looked when he was sitting down. “You got a problem, pretty boy?”

Dean’s grin grows wider. “Nope, we’ll just be on our merry gay way.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before turning away and stomping toward the door.

Cas’ shoulder brushes up against him a moment later. “Eventually you’re gonna have to explain to me what just happened,” he grumbles.

Dean looks over his shoulder to make sure the man is still watching them. He then slides his arm around Cas’ waist and leans forward to kiss him directly on the mouth. 

Dean hardly hears Sam say, “What the hell?” because he’s too busy listening to the sweet, sweet sound of an asshole choking on his food.