Sam Winchester

1. Why did you choose your URL? I chose it to emphasize Sam’s struggle with his sanity circa season 7.

2. What is your middle name? Marie

3. If you could own a fairytale/fictional pet, what would it be?
 Arcanine from Pokémon :’3 Big woof!

4. Favorite color? Blue, with a penchant towards teal~

5. Favorite song?
 Pretty impossible to pick just one, but I’ll say “Achilles Come Down” by Gang of Youths since I’ve been listening to it more often recently.

6. What are your top three fandoms? Supernatural, Homestuck, and South Park

7. Why do you enjoy tumblr?
 I enjoy the aesthetic of it. There’s so many beautiful images. I love seeing people’s artwork and edits. It’s also nice to write on here, too.

Thanuel couldn’t help but grin rather brightly from the praise, his entire face heating up from shyness. “Thank you! That actually means a lot more to me than you probably think.” He was a sucker for compliment, especially from strangers. They always had a raw opinion and knew they wouldn’t lie just to make him feel better. “He’s one of my friends. He tends to space out sometimes, which is definitely the perfect opportunity to capture him in poses like that.” He admitted sheepishly before taking the notebook back and looking up to him.

“I’d love to say things are better for me, but… That’d be a lie. You see, I um… I actually was in a war when I was younger, and I’ve gotten PTSD out of that, so… But art really is pretty therapeutic!” It’s helped him way too much over the pasy thirty something years, especially on nights where his nightmares were just too awful. When he heard the other was a writer, he perked up just a little. “Oh, that’s awesome! I’ve tried writing but never really got into it… But hey, maybe you should start back up! I know there’s tons of places that would ay you for creative pieces, or newspapers and such!” Maybe he was getting a little too excited, but hey… If he could motivate someone into doing something they used to love, then so be it!

The simple act of making another man smile makes Sam feel more useful than he has in a long time. “Of course.” He offers a small half-smile in return that’s genuine, but he doesn’t quite have the energy to light up in the same way that this man does. He nods to Thanuel, listening as he explains how the familiar man is a friend of his. Sam just can’t place him. Maybe he’s someone he helped some time ago back on a hunt. Everything’s essentially a blur these days. He doesn’t even know if he really got out of the hospital, but he’s choosing to believe he has because he needs some hope in his life.

“Mmmhmm! Most are just like little portraits and such of people I’ve met in my life. Whether they’re friends, or just people passing by, like you.” Thanuel seemed to perk up a little bit more with the conversation, partially hoping the other might actually ask him to draw him. “Oh, can I show you one of my favorite little pieces?” He mused, moving to carefully turn a few pages until it landed on a drawing of one of his friends. “Really? That’s awesome! I took a few courses back in highschool. Luckily our school used to offer that to students, but after I graduated, they cancelled it.” He huffed, still a little upset about that whole situation. “Oh! Maybe like uh… Thirty somethin’ years now? I started as a little coping mechanism from some stuff I went through in my twenties…. what about you? What do you do if you don’t mind me asking?”

Drawing everyone you came across strikes Sam as a beautiful way to remember them. He wonders what happened to all the pictures he took of his friends from Stanford back in the days of Kodak film. Most of them probably got left behind in the apartment with Jess. The thought makes his heart ache. He still can't help but sometimes think about how different his life would have been if he just could have saved her, even all these years later.

He lets Thanuel turn the pages in the sketchbook easily, hands falling to either side of his lap while the other man does. His eyes take in Thanuel's favorite drawing––a portrait of a man in a trench coat. There's something about the man that looks so familiar, but Sam can't quite put his finger on it. "That's a nice one... This a friend of yours? Or one of the people who came and went?" Sam asks, looking away from the pages and into Thanuel's eyes.