Everything dies, baby that's a fact.

Maybe everything that dies, some day comes back. (Indie Stanford Era Sam Winchester RP blog)

[godforsakenthing-blog]

Saw Homecoming last night and have been bit by the bug (hah) again. So I’m gonna be hiding over on Tony if anyone’s interested in my other alcoholic with daddy issues. 

[everythingdies-blog2]

cruentusreus:

“Stiles.” He waits until he’s shaken Sam’s hand, so the guy’s basically stuck with him for however briefly he can keep up the small talk before running away. 

“So do you usually lick strangers, or should I feel special?” 

If it turns out that Sam is another werewolf marking his territory, then that’s it, he’s emigrating.

(He can almost hear Dean’s voice in the back of his head. At least if this goes bad, Sam can avoid Stiles for the rest of his natural born life and pretend it never happened?)

“Definitely special. I don’t know what came over me.”

[everythingdies-blog2]

licks neck

“Hey, I’m trying to study here.” But the words are soft, and the chastisement behind them made even softer by the way Sam tilts his head to the side to give Gabe more room to work. 

[everythingdies-blog2]

❝ i had a dream about you. ❞

“Was it a nightmare?”

He means it teasingly, a joke to try and lighten the mood, to lighten the load on Samuel’s shoulders. To ease the steady downturn of that exhausted mouth. But it falls a little short, joke becoming concern. 

Am I bad?

[everythingdies-blog2]

Would you kindly close the door?

Oh. 

Oh. 

Sam gulps reflexively, fingers curling around the brass knob. He’s not good at signals, but this one seems loud and clear, even to him. 

“Are you sure?”

God, he hopes so.

[everythingdies-blog2]

❝ there is no way to make this story interesting. ❞

“Add in zombies.”

He’s not even a fan of zombie movies, though he can appreciate Romero for completely creating a genre out of a social commentary. But if Samantha is going to chew his ear off, he has to at least put some say in it.

(The last time he fell asleep on the phone with her, she bugged him about it for a week straight. Never again.)

“Or some sort of amnesia driven declaration of love.”

[everythingdies-blog2]

' your hair’s a mess. sit still. '

Siken Starters: (Accepting)

“My...what?”

But the hand on his sleeve is enough to keep him from climbing out of the passenger seat. Sam sinks back in, knees bumping against the dash, and he can feel the question building again on his tongue, what are you talking about, Dean? when he feels fingers smoothing through his hair. 

It’s a knee jerk kind of feeling, the way that his stomach swoops and drops, roller coaster quick. 

It’s a teenager kind of feeling, that heady mix of awe and breathlessness. 

But Sam isn’t a kid anymore, no matter what the heat on his cheeks might imply.

“Dean. Stop.”

It’s a little half assed, but he has to make a token effort without bothering to move away.

[everythingdies-blog2]

notyouraverageghost:

It takes her a moment to reply, because he can’t be saying hello to her. Can he? No. Surely not. Eyebrows furrow, and a blank look flickers over her face as she takes him in, staring back with an absent kind of blink.

Oh.

Oh, god, he is saying hello to her. When was the last time anyone said HELLO, most people didn’t even know she was THERE – “Oh! Ah. Hi. Yes. Hello. Lovely to meet you, sorry –” God, that was too many words at once. “Right. Sorry, I got – … ah. How are you?”

Relief flashes over his expression before the smile takes over again. Sam isn’t exactly Casanova, he knows how to be polite, but he’s never gotten the hang of knowing the difference between politeness and interest when it’s aimed back at him.

But this kind of seemed like interest? At least in conversation? Maybe?

“I’m Sam.” Not what she asked, genius. (Sometimes his inner monologue sounds like Dean.) “And I’m good. I’m not bothering you, am I?” He gestures behind him, a silent offer to leave her alone.

[everythingdies-blog2]

cruentusreus:

Stiles has made an early career out of bypassing the law, Winchester. Which is probably not a good thing, given that he still wants to be a cop.

“I didn’t dispute the claim. I asked for an example, and you couldn’t provide me with one.” And he has asked around. Sam has everyone fooled, but it’s got nothing to do with charm. 

“Also, your innocent nerdy puppy act is not charm.”

“It definitely is charm.”

A cute, innocent little smile that he punctuates by slugging Stiles in the shoulder. (It’s what Dean would do.)

“And you’re just jealous.”

[everythingdies-blog2]

❝ that sounds overly valorous. ❞

Siken Starters: (Accepting)

“Not a fan of Galahad, I take it?”

[everythingdies-blog2]

❝ i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything, without having to say that i ran out into the street to prove something. ❞

Siken Starters: (Accepting)

Leave it to Dean to try and do this his way, no matter what. 

There’s a flush of warmth, affection and irritation in equal measure. Sam sighs, a big theatrical thing, undercut by the hand that lands on his brother’s knee, comfortingly heavy. 

“No confessions necessary.”

I already know. 

[everythingdies-blog2]

you’re an idiot and i’m very proud of you. don’t do that again.

Critical Role Starters: (Accepting)

“What? It’s not a big deal. I didn’t even cut myself. See?”

[everythingdies-blog2]

❝ please, just for one night, will you lie down next to me, we can leave our clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up. ❞

Siken Starters: (Accepting)

Stiles has nightmares.

He has the kind of nightmares that seize him up at night and leave him shaking. Sam’s caught an elbow a time or two, but he’s never found himself here. 

Being asked to stay.

(No one has ever asked him to stay.)

“Of course I’ll stay.”

[everythingdies-blog2]

texasheiress:

“not today, but i could prob’ly do with a cement truck full’a coffee and maybe a handgun t’blow my fuckin’ head off. these exams’re killin’ me.”

And Dean said he was melodramatic. 

“Sorry, I’m fresh out of cement trucks and hand guns.” Not entirely true. He’s got a Beretta underneath his pillow that he bought from a pawn shop not long after moving into the dorm. He’d been stupid to think he’d feel safe without a firearm. 

[everythingdies-blog2]

❝ there are many names in history, but none of them are ours. ❞

Siken Starters: (Accepting)

He thinks maybe, that it bothers Dean. The anonymity of it, of knowing that for all they’ve done, the lives they’ve saved and avenged, that no one will ever know of it. 

Lucky will net them people who remember, but won’t ever speak their names. Realistic means they’ll be lost in years worth of explanations for the unexplainable. 

“I’ll remember you.”

It’s not enough. It never will be. But it’s all he’s got. 

[everythingdies-blog2]

❝ tell me we’ll never get used to it. ❞

Siken Starters: (Accepting)

“I won’t.”

It’s murmured warm against her lips in a kiss that he restrains with heels dug into the floor, and hands against her soft skin. He’ll never get used to this, to the joy of being able to touch her, to taste her laughter on his lips. 

Jessica is everything he dreamed of and then some. 

He wants this feeling to last forever. 

[everythingdies-blog2]

everyone else believes in you. why shouldn’t you?

Critical Role Starters: (Accepting)

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

He means it with no ulterior motive, no need to get anything from it. (He wouldn’t turn down a kiss, she’s beautiful and she’s sweet, but he’s not going to risk their friendship for it.)

“Thank you.”

He tugs her against his side, bending down to press a kiss to the crown of her hair.

“For everything.”