driving out into the sun

@samsoleil / samsoleil.tumblr.com

let the ultraviolet cover me up
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hihi!! my name is Kael and my pronouns are they/them. I'm 22, excitingly.

this is my main, I moved all my non-spn stuff to @nebulairis !

I'm a bitter Sam fan at my core but realised that genposting is more fun so now I'm all for genbros. I'm a nonshipper and none of my og content is intended to be shippy.

I draw art here and post fic here (if I'm talking about my s9 au, it's this one) 💙

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samsoleil

I’m thinking about how salad doesn’t keep. I’m thinking about how it turns brown and collects its excrement at the bottom of the bag, a single leaf rotting at the depths spreading to the rest until it disintegrates in your hand, sickly sweet and cloying, how each day you eat some and throw more away. I’m thinking about how salad doesn’t keep and doesn’t keep you full, how much further a $2 burger will get you compared to a $2 bag of four leaf mix, how reassuring that 45% of daily intake must appear when there’s no guarantee of getting the other 55%.

I’m thinking about how Sam was left alone for weeks at a time when he was younger, how lost he felt knowing that there was no guarantee he would ever not be alone again, how it drew Sully to him, how he started hunting when he was 9 and what that means about before. I’m thinking about how Dean was the best thing in his world and how hunting stole him away for months, leaving Sam abandoned with motel rooms and scant money. I’m thinking about a diet of mac and cheese and cheap cereal for days, until he wants to gag when he sees it, how little that $2 bag of leaves gets him but how much he wishes he could have it.

I’m thinking about how his version of heaven could have been someone else’s Thanksgiving, enough to eat that you can invite your family and someone else’s, how thankful he is to take something others have for granted. I’m thinking about how a person living alone can meal prep for the week and keep it frozen, an expense on Sunday that keeps you fed for the rest of the week, if you can afford Sunday. I’m thinking about my siblings, when they were 9, and how I wouldn’t want them anywhere near the stove.

I’m thinking about teenagers and how much they eat and how much they can hate eating it. I’m thinking about the way the weight sits, the way it shifts and changes as everything shifts and changes and how much you hate it when it does. I’m thinking about Sam calling himself chubby at 12, nothing more than puppy fat, everything less than Dean at 16, tall and graceful where Sam feels graceless. I’m thinking about how he must have eaten better, by then, how he shot up like a reed, but also about how much you seem to lose when you’re pulled up like tugged taffy, bones and sharp angles and growing pains.

I’m thinking about how, by the time Sam got to Stanford, he knew how to eat on a budget of desperation and hope, how far a bag of pasta can get you, how many meals you can wring out of a sack of rice. I’m thinking about the pointlessness of meal prep when your meals are carbs and a multivitamin, the inanity of eating well when you’re cooking for one, the dull ache in Sam’s chest when he looked in the fridge and saw nothing worth having for the nth year in a row.

I’m thinking about the shopping trip he takes after that hollow space in his stomach makes itself known and he finally has enough to try something new, about the recipes you find on the backs of boxes and the labels of bottles and the packaging of frozen vegetables. I’m thinking about the luxury of learning that brand-name ibuprofen really is the same as homebrand. I’m thinking about having salad for lunch every day and eating more later when you’re hungry afterwards, about onion and garlic and crushed tomatoes and a beautiful girl on the other side of the counter, about running out of multivitamins and not buying more.

I’m thinking about how expensive it is to eat out, and how salad doesn’t keep.

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samsoleil
And the words which were on the scabbard said: “He who will carry me must be braver and surer than anyone else, if he is to carry me as purely as he should. For I am not made to enter any place where there is filthiness or sin. Anyone who carries me into such a place will be the first to repent of it.”
- The Quest of the Holy Grail, Anonymous

Sam Winchester // Sir Galahad

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my tweets from a few days ago when this who knows dean better discourse hit twitter being immediately proven right by the deangirls and deancas fools in the notes of that stupid poll i just reblogged like "well ME and MY sibling are like THIS which means DEAN is like that and also [something that sounds smart but doesn't have any reference to or any support in the actual text of the show but is what i personally feel is true about the characters]" so i think ive cracked it

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It's been a while since I watched Supernatural, so don't take my opinions as gospel or anything. But I think Dean is self-hating to the point of narcissism in some ways. Don't get me wrong, I empathise with Dean and understand why fans largely do too. But his self-loathing warps his perception and becomes the centre of EVERYTHING and at times that really has ripple effects on those around him - particularly Sam.

Take their childhood, Sam has a right to mourn the fact that he didn't get a normal childhood. He's allowed to be angry that he didn't get a home, a present father, a stable community, and consistent education. But whenever Sam attempts to express his complicated feelings about his childhood, Dean immediately interprets it as ' oh I was supposed to look out for you. Are you saying I failed? Are you confirming I'm worthless?' which grinds the conversation to a complete halt. Because of Dean's intense self-criticism, Sam can never really be 100% honest with him or ask for support with his own issues, especially regarding their childhood. As anything outside of 100% gratitude just becomes another stick for Dean to beat himself with, and the conversation is immediately derailed.

Not only does Deans self-hatred mean that Sam's expression of his own experiences are pretty consistently shut down. In some ways, I think Dean strips Sam of his autonomy - he's so self-loathing, he sees every decision Sam makes as being about/a reaction to him. A good example of this is Stanford. Rather than understanding Stanford for what it was, an attempt by Sam to carve out a better life from himself and escape hunting. Dean views it as betrayal or abandonment, some re-affirmation of his own belief that he's not worth caring about. Rather than understanding it's a rejection of hunting, he sees it as Sam rejecting him. To Dean, Sam isn't attempting to find a better life, he's punishing the family.

Overall, it's interesting that people largely and rightfully sympathise with Dean due to his self-hatred. However, I don't see as much discussion about how his self-hatred doesn't just hurt him, it hurts those he's close to, as it colours his interpretation of their every action. Dean's self-loathing is always the biggest thing in the room and that has consequences.

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rapidhighway

i miss sam winchester, he understood me (there is something wrong with me)

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Supernatural season 4 episode 18, “The Monster at the End of This Book” 04.02.2009

The Monster at the End of This Book: Starring Lovable, Furry Old Grover by Jon Stone, Little Golden Books, 1971

(transcription & Thoughts below)

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