#veganweecest

[clairenovac]

MOAR SELFIES

[poetryandoldermen]

where are you? ~ the wind outside doesn’t howl, life goes on in the night, and there is nothing out of the ordinary; the reality of it eludes me. the world’s tilted and the people have somehow turned into gods, being able to walk normally around, when my legs won’t even hold me (I’ve become a cripple in a moment). ~ where are you? there’s no one to carry my question to you, to tell you I am incapable to go on without you and that I’d do anything if only you’d come back. ~ for once there is no one waiting to spread my pain for the vultures to enjoy (for you to see) - the silence oppressive, trying to crush my ribs with every breath, when for once I need my scream to be heard. ~ where are you? ~ I don’t know just how many nights I’ll be able to endure the knowledge of how cold a motel bed can be.

ines k, the first time the bed was cold

[clairvoyantsam]

I know we didn't talk much before you left and I don't know what url I was under when you did, but it's great to see you back! I'm happy to hear that things are going better. ILY <3

Awww, you’re cute <3 Thanks so much for the kind words <3 Ily back :3

[poetryandoldermen]

out of control

what is peace, exactly, to a man whose whole life has been nothing but blood and caution and never truly sleeping? what is peace when he doesn’t know he’s at war?

how do you explain to someone like him that’s it’s okay to feel weak, to lean on you not only because he needs it, but because it’d save his back from breaking? that feeling weak is not being weak?

he’s known peace, some semblance of it - when his soul was black, when everything around him was grey, and then again when his eyes drank the darkness again. in all those moments he didn’t need to hold himself back, in all those years he wasn’t himself, yet felt more like himself than ever before.

dean winchester’s biggest obstacle was always dean winchester.

with morals. with limits. with his stubborn clinging to invisible lines always separating him from his sammy. silly boy. don’t you want to breathe? don’t you want to admit to your little brother that you’re ashamed of dreaming of hell so often, of freedom of not having to decide anything, to just feel the flesh in your hands and do? sweet boy, wouldn’t you like to wake up knowing you’re safe to be weak?

precious brother, you don’t need the darkness, not really. am I not big enough to hold you together?

my brother, lay your weapons down and let me show you peace.

prompt:  The various times Dean found bliss (Purgatory, demon, mark, amara) and maybe some thoughts/feelings of him? I don’t know I just like the peace he finds in moments where things are out of his control (you can make it Wincest if you manage^^) by ever so wonderful @buttheyrebrothers

[semirahrose]

Inspired by the idea that Sam might use a poker chip as a sobriety coin, thanks to the lovely veganweecest. I wondered what it might be like if Sam kept it with him in season 11...

A poker chip doesn't have the solemn, cool weight of a coin. Outside of a casino, it's not even a representation of money. It's a mockery—cheap and gaudy, valueless.

Still, there's power in it. 

Five years sober, going on six, and in a fit of whimsy, Sam writes a careful '5' on the chip when he finds it, and he keeps it with him. He's come this far, and the chip serves as both a warning and a reminder. 

Strength is not always about brute force; sometimes, it's about quiet resistance, about denying himself every single day. Sam doesn't talk about it, but the sulfurous odor of demon blood still makes his stomach cramp with need sometimes. He's learned how to breathe through it, but it's not gone.

He keeps the chip in his back pocket, and his jeans wear and fade around it like they would around a wallet. Sometimes, when things are really bad, he'll pull it out.

Five years going on six. Can't fuck up now.

It's in his pocket when he hears it should be you up there on that pyre, when all he wants to do is drink something, anything to make him feel in control. It's there when he kneels on the cold concrete awaiting the swing of Death's scythe. It's there, forgotten, when engorged black veins crawl up his neck and he fears the end, and it's snug against his heel when he kneels and prays to God for guidance.

Before he goes to Dean about Lucifer, he pulls it out and holds it between his clasped hands when he calls out to God. Because maybe he can be saved, and even if he can't--even if he'll never be pure--he can at least do this. He can persist, resist, say no to the cravings when he wakes up sweating and gasping after a dream of blood and the need is there like claws in his gut, demanding sustenance and promising pain.

Most of the time, he forgets about the chip, but it's still there.

It's there, of course, when he goes to hell. Even as Lucifer's words flood over him like tar, a part of him remembers that even if his life is just a string of failures and disappointments, he can choose whether to let the bad stuff in. (Usually.)

It's there when the memories fade and he sits on the cold floor of the cage.

Sam reaches into his pocket and touches the garish blue chip, no longer worth the plastic wasted to create it (not unlike himself, he supposes), and he realizes that even though it has no monetary value, it's not worthless. It's an emblem.

So Sam Winchester looks the devil right in the eye and tells him no, and for maybe the first time in a long time, he feels a flush of pride. Five years going on six, and Sam's still going at it.

He can't control much, but he can at least control himself. 

There's peace in that.

more fic | AO3

[poetryandoldermen]

'I will be the best big brother ever!', * dean proudly says the first time he holds sammy, marry and john smiling at the little boy, trying to make himself as big as possible. * the words echo in dean’s ears years later, when he’s alone in the middle of the crossroads, and there’s only one way to go.

ines k, and he’s not big at all

[semirahrose]

I'm ENFP and have always been very protective of Sam. I have an inclination toward "underdog" characters, though. I find myself liking characters that others can't seem to stand or think badly of. It's actually so common that it happens in almost every fandom I enter. I'm a younger sibling and I just loved Sam from the moment I saw him. I really resonate with being the younger sibling who's had to learn from her older sibling's mistakes. Just thought I'd add my two cents ^^

Thanks so much! I really appreciate your thoughts on this topic!

I’m also generally a fan of the underdogs or of characters who aren’t appreciated in fandom/their show. I feel like I got really lucky with SPN, though, because the fandom is huge, and there’s a cozy niche and a warm community for everyone. 

[poetryandoldermen]

would you allow me to kiss you, ~ if the skies were falling and the mountains sank into the sea, throwing us out of our course? ~ would you allow me to kiss you on a perfectly regular day? ~ I’m afraid that if we wait for that day, we will grow old and grey and having never felt how it was like to be whole, but it’s still up to you - ~ if you’d give me your mornings and your smiles, your tired afternoons and your frowns, if you’d give me everything that was yours to give. ~ (you already have all of me) ~ tell me, if one day soon I decide to spread myself open and let you see whose name is written on my heart, would you allow me to kiss you? ~ (make a perfectly regular day simply perfect)

ines k, would you say yes