#geekmuffin

colour: lilacseason: autumnchosen word: resilient

ʚଓ٠࣪⭑ your chosen weapon is a customized crossbow with lilac-fletched bolts, which is so unmistakably you. you pay attention to details others might overlook, right down to colour coordination and balance. it’s expression. even in a life built around survival, you still let yourself create beauty.

ʚଓ٠࣪⭑ you throw yourself fully into the things you love. films, history, books, obscure trivia, outfits planned down to the smallest detail. your enthusiasm is contagious. you’re expressive--animated, even--the kind of person who lights up while explaining something you care about. and underneath all that brightness is resilience people sometimes underestimate. you keep going, finding joy anyway.

The bunker library is quiet except for the rustle of pages and the soft sound of you digging through your bag. Sam’s trying to read, because every couple minutes he catches movement out of the corner of his eye and looks up to find you holding different shirts against yourself with a deeply serious expression. “Okay,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, “this one’s too cool toned.” Sam lowers his book slightly. “What?” You glance over. “The green clashes with the jacket.” He blinks once. Then again. “You can tell that just by looking at it?” “Yes?” You pause. “Can’t you?” Sam looks at the pile of clothes spread across the table like it’s a complicated math equation. “Honestly? No.” You laugh softly and hold up two tops. “Which one?” He points randomly. “...left?” You narrow your eyes immediately. “Wrong.” Sam huffs out a laugh. “Then why ask me?” “Wanted to see if your instincts were good.” “And?” “Tragic results, Winchester.” You finally settle on an outfit, smoothing the sleeves before looking satisfied. Sam watches the whole thing with this quiet sort of fondness he doesn’t fully realize is showing on his face. “What?” you ask, catching him staring. “Nothing,” he says quickly, though he’s still smiling. “You just put a lot of thought into things.” You shrug lightly. “I like details.” “Yeah,” Sam murmurs, eyes flicking over the carefully matched colors one more time. He smiles to himself and goes back to his book. Or at least pretends to.