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sinnabonka · 25 days
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“The pull of us”, now complete!
What was it you always said? We’re connected by a thread If we’re ever far apart I’ll still feel the pull of you
- The pull of you, The National.
Saying goodbye to a story is never easy, especially when the journey lasted for six months. Six. Amazing. Months. It was an honor to share this with you, @shelikestv, your version on Dean and Cas will forever stay with me! It was trying, yes, and it sometimes felt like too much, but you did it! You crossed the finish line!
This is my great goodbye. And a big thank you.
For this. For them.
And for you.
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sinnabonka · 1 month
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PAUSE. REWIND. REPLAY.
inspired by this by @beingforcedtolivebadwriting
He drinks until he’s passed out on the floor. Drinks, watching the feed from the dungeon room on his laptop - he and Cas on screen, gravitating toward each other, two stars headed to destruction.
Cas’ voice, over and over again until the room blurs away, and the world narrows down to three words: “I love you”.
The one thing I want I know I can’t have -- on time, I know I can’t have it on time.
He only says it when it’s too late, when there’s nothing to be done about it. Afraid to hear the bitter truth. Dean was afraid too, he never knew what his own answer was going to be -- until it was too late, until no one was around to hear it, anyway.
Cas. Shards of his heart scattered on the floor.
Rewind. Replay.
I love you.
He pauses the tape, before it’s too late, while he still can pretend this is how it ends. I love you -- and Cas smiles, because this is how it’s supposed to be.
Love is a gift, you keep those. Proud. Precious. Not desperate and heartbreaking.
I love you. I love you. I love you. He’s never taken, he never leaves -- if Dean manages to press pause on time.
I love you.
“And I, you,” to the laptop screen, in the smallest of voices, because that’s all he gets for waiting too long. That’s what he deserves.
I love you.
And I, you.
Was it so hard to say? Just find the words, the simplest of them, and push them out, even if they wanted to stick to his teeth. Let them bounce and roll across the floor.
Let him know.
I love you.
A prayer. A blessing.
I love you.
A curse.
Now just words on a tape, no answer.
There’s a knife in Dean’s hand, still sporting Cas’ blood - it’s the only thing left of him, and if it wasn’t so heartbreaking, it would be telling that only things he left behind were so -- human.
Blood sigil on the door, blood on the knife, blood handprints on his jacket and --
Pause. Rewind. Replay.
I love you.
The hand trembles as the blade cuts into wood, soft and eager under the pressure.
That’s what teenagers do, cut each other’s names into trees. A heart, two names, and “forever.”
I love you.
Rewind. Replay.
I love you.
Because that’s all Dean’s got - his name carved into the tabletop and the “I love you.”
Three words which were supposed to be the beginning of something great.
Instead, they were the end of everything.
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sinnabonka · 1 month
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It’s two years today, and we’re still stuck in the same painful routine. But we’re alive, and we’re fighting, even though the world doesn’t care anymore.
Today’s my birthday.
And a year since we all (Ukrainians, citizens of neighboring countries and kind hearts from all over the world) got stuck in a limbo called War.
Last year I spent my birthday with my family, at the big table, smiling, and laughing, and joking around. But at the same time nervously checking news on Twitter, scared shitless that the war (such a ridiculous thing in 2022, we thought) may start.
Today, we’re not afraid anymore. In the last year we grew, matured, calloused and hardened. We cried all our fears out. We bled clean of them.
I grew tremendously in those 365 day. Through pain, and awe, and love toward things I never knew how to love before. I finally realized what was the piece missing from me. I found out what being Ukrainian is.
It’s the hardest year of my life, but I am grateful. Amidst all the horrors, a sprout of Hope has never died.
Today, blowing out the candles on my cake, I will wish for love, for health, for Peace. And for everyone to come back home.
And it will happen, despite me saying it aloud.
Thank you.
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P.S: see the book my team gave me today, it’s called “Peremoga” (Victory), authored by Ukrainian creators. I couldn’t read it, just started crying. Look how pretty she is!
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sinnabonka · 1 month
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“The pull of us”, now complete!
What was it you always said? We’re connected by a thread If we’re ever far apart I’ll still feel the pull of you
- The pull of you, The National.
Saying goodbye to a story is never easy, especially when the journey lasted for six months. Six. Amazing. Months. It was an honor to share this with you, @shelikestv, your version on Dean and Cas will forever stay with me! It was trying, yes, and it sometimes felt like too much, but you did it! You crossed the finish line!
This is my great goodbye. And a big thank you.
For this. For them.
And for you.
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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the only thing that happened in the barn that night was a kiss
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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have a quick messy sketch of my fave cowboys
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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They stand like that for a while, just cherishing the little comfort they can find - a childless parent and a fatherless daughter - in arms of each other.
Fathers & Daughters
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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have much more free time (when I don’t feel like doing anything lol cause I’m too tired) on hands, so did something
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the kid’s gonna be born on the year of dragon, so
Not to be on tumblr for months just to come back with a personal announcement, heh
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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if you were a deity, what would you be the god of
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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Stay humble, but also, stay excited.
For any followers of mine still living with parents, guardians, family, or even just with roommates and who’ve never lived alone and/or fully on your own terms (whether ye be 16 or 60), I have TWO pieces of wisdom for you for when you eventually do:
You WILL discover that you were wrong about some shit you felt pretty strongly about before. Maybe you never realized how often your mom ACTUALLY cleans the bathroom and it turns out she asked for help really rarely. Maybe, much as it grates to admit, putting $50 into a different savings account every paycheck really IS the ONLY way to save any fucking money. Maybe that big rolling trashcan you resented your roommate putting in the kitchen, and got in that big fight about, really WAS super convenient and now you have to buy one for yourself after they move out and take it with them. Maybe blanching vegetables so they retain their color when cooked actually DOES enhance a meal, pretty food slaps actually, and the reason you didn’t think it was worth the effort is because you were depressed.
You WILL also discover new shit that works SO much better for you than everything you’d been taught. Maybe you’ll discover that dropping trash off at a recycling center at your convenience works way better for your brain than getting it picked up on a set day. Maybe you’ll realize you don’t actually hate tofu, you just hate how your family cooks tofu. Maybe you’ll love being able to walk around the house naked whenever you want. Maybe you’ll find you thrive in a space with giant framed nude photography, or taxidermy animals, or fandom themed Everything. Maybe you’ll realize that keeping the thermostat set like 5 degrees colder (or hotter) than is typical makes you sleep better than you ever have before in your whole life.
The point of this wisdom is: Stay humble, but also, stay excited. There’s no point pretending you weren’t wrong about shit you were wrong about, just eat the crow and move on. But also, there’s so much to look forward to about your own space– even more than you could ever imagine when you don’t have it yet.
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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TOM STURRIDGE as Dream of the Endless The Sandman 1.06: “The Sound of Her Wings”
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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Sir is this true?
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That is me on a trampoline. Your argument may well be valid.
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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If you wish hard enough
Dean’s never been one to expect gifts from anyone, let alone God himself, but today he’s gotten the best gift he could ever wish for, on AO3
Dean wakes up to a gentle caress on his cheek. It feels nothing like Miracle’s wet slimy wake up call that’s become a part of his daily morning routine, and he jolts, hands scavenging the sheets for his gun.
The emptiness under the pillow makes Dean’s guts flip, but his mind keeps searching for options. He remembers there’s a pen knife hidden in his boot under the bed, a demon blade in the jacket hanging on the doorknob, plus, there is always a lamp on the nightstand he could effectively fling.
Instead, running the numbers, he decides first to shed some light onto the scene, and paws his way to the switch and flips it.
He winces when the white dim light floods the room.
As his eyes refocus, he blinks, mouth falling open. Swallowing, his throat clenches around the fragment of a sound ready to escape. His fists ball on the comforter on both sides of his thighs as his stomach careens into the endless and weightless feeling of falling.
The light is weak, the outlines it draws are smudged and blurry.
“Hello, Dean.”
The room floor tilts like a ship deck in a storm, and Dean finds himself grasping on solid surfaces of the furniture in a rushed attempt to get out of the bed. His lungs ache at the lack of air to fill them up.
Dean makes one unsure step, then another. His knees buckle, but with the last ounce of strength he forces himself to stay upright.
He reaches out to what has to be a ghost, because what else can it be, and as he does, his fingers are trembling. A hopeful thought struggles, drowning in the white noise inside his skull.
And then there’s a touch.
“Cas.”
Keep reading
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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i hate it when i cant even write a poem about something because its too obvious. like in the airbnb i was at i guess it used to be a kids room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. like that's a poem already what's the point
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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u ever read a fanfic so good that you want. fanfic of the fanfic
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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Open road. Windows rolled down; night sky, tar-like, spilling down the windshield.
Sam’s soft snoring coming from the backseat, the sound of it the only indication the world hasn’t gone completely mute.
Mile markers whoosh by in a smear of color just to be caught by Dean’s tired eyes in the rear-view mirror a moment later, distorted and red-shifted.
Castiel is looking at him, and all Dean can think about is blood oxidising under his nails.
Cas is looking at him like he’s something worth looking at -- the first sunrise after a months-long polar night, and yet Dean hates how it makes him feel. Raw, and vulnerable, and hopeful.
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Hope is the thing with teeth, and he can already feel its jaws on his neck.
“This is it?” He’s not even sure that’s supposed to be a question, let alone expecting an answer.
The angel keeps looking, silent, and the depth of his blue eyes promises to swallow Dean whole.
“I think so, yes,” Cas says, words barely a whisper, and glances down to his bloodied palms. It’s not his blood, it rarely is, but does it even matter anymore?
Dean shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trembling hands white-knuckled on the wheel. He thinks how he’d rather drive head-on into the nearest tree than let Cas’ gaze stray away even for a blink.
Because this is it, in all its finality. The last stretch. No more if, only an issue of how and when: when Lucifer is released again, when The War breaks out, and, eventually, when and how this sick joke of a world dies out.
“This is not your war,” Cas says as if divining Dean’s thoughts, his voice the warm, all-destroying breeze of the desert. “Nor is it your brother’s.”
Dean wants to say how it’s not Cas’ either. How sons don’t need to carry the burden their fathers picked up anymore. Is desperate to believe it himself, too.
Ask me to go with you, he swallows against the bitter aftertaste in his mouth. If this is how it ends, so be it. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of second-guessing if we find our way back to each other this time. I’m tired of being afraid.
The sky at the horizon goes up in flames of sunrise as Dean looks at the road in front of him, not able to hold Cas’ stare anymore.
I would, he thinks it like a prayer, aimed and heavy with intent. The thought is loud inside his skull, clear.
In the peripheral, Cas' face lights up momentarily by the passing headlights, and Dean’s heart jumpstarts inside his chest, stupidly optimistic.
“I’m tired, too.”
He feels Cas’ hand slowly snake toward his thigh, palm out, and tentatively covers it with his own. He dares to look then, and their eyes meet and hold.
No words are being said, so little value in them, and Cas just laces their fingers together.
In the backseat Sam discreetly lets his eyelids slip close again and drifts off to sleep.
taglist:
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sinnabonka · 2 months
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I want to show you an actual training slide from my customer service job that I had to see yesterday.
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