Warnings: This is straight cotton candy fluff. Shy, cutesy, first-time-admitting-their-feelings fluff.
Word count: 1616
Your body aches with the position you’ve been holding for well on a few hours, and you give a soft whistle to call his attention.
“Break?” you murmur hopefully, and he jumps from his place, reaching out dust-covered hands to you to help you down from your stool.
“I’m so sorry, [Y/N],” he breathes, and you flash him a tired smile. “I should’ve let you have a break an hour ago. I just got a little caught up.”
“It’s fine, Sam,” you tell him, squeezing his gray hands before letting them go. “I just need a snack and to walk a little.”
“Yeah…” he trails off as you head for your bag, fishing out a pack of chocolate covered peanuts and a water bottle.
“So, can I see it yet?” you ask him, trying to peek beyond the curtain he’d set up to block your view of his work.
“Not yet,” he moves to rinse his hands at the sink a little ways away, clearing some of the stone from his nail beds. “I’m almost done. Maybe tonight.”
“Sam, I love you and all, but you said that the past two nights,” you remind him, munching on your snack as you nudged him playfully.
“Yeah, but I want it to be just perfect,” he sighs, looking up to your [E/C] eyes. “I want to get all the details right.”
“I’m sure it’s gonna be great,” you tell him, your hands falling to his biceps. Christ, does this boy get a work out with his carving. “The critics are gonna love it.”
Your hands slide down his arms to his worn hands, to the callouses across his palms and the thick patches of dry skin from the dust. Your thumbs slide along his palms, then turn his hands to examine the cracks on his knuckles. You look up at him and smile, placing a soft kiss to his knuckles, then lower them.
“I’m sure it looks great,” you repeat to him, watching his form relax some with your words.
“God, I hope so,” he murmurs, giving you a half smile. “Anything less than that and I’m gonna be severely disappointed.”
You just shake your head at his nerves, making your way back to your stool to sit down. He comes to you and fixes your hair back the way it had been, his long fingers tilting your chin back to the angle it had previously been at.
“Right there,” he murmurs softly, and you give him a small smile as he returns to his work a few feet away.
He’s patient, far more than you are. He’d been at this for weeks, working a little bit every evening that you were available. You think that he might even work a little after you’re gone using the photo he took on your first day as reference.
And it’s all for the art show in a week. Several renowned critics are going to be there, and Sam hopes to get his work noticed by one of them, or at the very least get some good critiques to help him improve.
He’s been sculpting for as long as you’ve known him, about six years, and he’s told you that he was at it long before that.
“Can you tilt your head just a little more?” he asks you, and you jut your chin out a fraction of an inch, making sure not to move the hand that it’s resting on. “Perfect, right there.”
He works in relative silence, only murmuring to you every once in a while or asking if you need another break.
Just over an hour later, he leans back in his chair, and you raise an eyebrow at him.
“It’s done,” he breathes, looking from his sculpture to you.
“Can I move now?” you ask him.
“Yeah, come look,” he stands and holds his hand out to you. “Close your eyes first.”
Your fingers link through his easily, your eyes closed, and he guides you to the front of the sculpture. He squeezes your hand once for his own pleasure, then tells you to look.
If anyone could turn a stone block into this, it would be Sam Winchester.
“Oh my God,” you breathe, eyes trailing from the hair he’s carved out of stone to the very creases on your skin from the angle of your wrist. You have a slightly playful smile, and he’s carved your favorite shirt down to your skinny jeans and your converse. The laces are intricately carved, and you reach out to brush your finger over the smoothness of your forearm. “Sam, this is incredible.”
“Yeah?” he smiles at you, wiping his forehead and leaving a streak of dust in his wake.
“It’s beautiful,” you trace over the cheek he’s carved, your breath leaving you.
“I tried to do you justice,” he whispers, and without thinking, you turn to him, throw your arms around his neck, and pull him down to you so that you can kiss him.
His hands lower to your hips, holding you steady as you tried to pull away. He kisses back with vigor, six years of pent up feelings being let free in the form of a single kiss.
He pulls away and you’re slightly dizzy, rocking back on your heels with realization of what you’ve done.
“I did that good?” he whispers, his hazel eyes wide as he grinned slightly.
“Yeah,” you breathe, clearing your throat and pulling away from him. “U-Um, sorry. I—I um…”
“We good?” he whispers, swallowing.
“Yeah,” you nod, linking your fingers together nervously. “I-If you don’t mind… I’d love to come to the art expo with you.”
“Yeah?” his voice pitches up in excitement.
“Yeah,” you agree, and he smiles at you, flashing those brilliant teeth and those perfect dimples. “So… I’ll see you on Saturday?”
“Yeah,” he nods, and you move to collect your bag. “Wait, [Y/N]!”
You turn to look at him, and he smiles at you shyly.
“Did you want to go get some coffee or something?” he asks, and your cheeks blush pink. “I mean, it’s kinda late, but I wanted to say thank you for being my muse.”
“Sure,” you nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder before walking back to him. “And I didn’t mind. But I’m curious, what are you gonna call it?”
“I Uh… I haven’t thought about that yet,” he admits. “Let me think on it and I’ll tell you.”
“Cool,” you smile at him, and after a few moments to clear up his tools and put them away in his studio, he makes his way back to you. He reaches down and takes your hand, his own washed free of dust, and smiles at you as you lace your fingers through his. “Lead the way, Sam.”
He takes you to a little cafe that’s empty save for a single barista. He orders your drink and one of his own before coming to join you at the little booth you’ve chosen to sit at.
“It’s pretty quiet,” you say to ease the awkward silence. You’re not quite sure where you stand with him.
He held your hand, and he wouldn’t stop smiling at you on the way over. But did his feelings go past that of grateful friend? He had said that he wanted to thank you for being his muse…
“[Y/N]?” he calls, and you blink before looking up at him. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you try to fight the blush rising to your face. “Just a little tired.”
“I can walk you home after we get our coffee,” he suggests, and you reach over the table to squeeze his hand.
“We can talk for a little while,” you tell him, watching his eyes light up. “I think there’s some unsaid business between us that needs to get worked out.”
“[Y/N],” he takes a breath to steady himself. “I like you. A lot. Even before I started this project. I actually used this as an excuse to see you more…”
“I like you too, Sam,” you smile at him, feeling his rough hands graze over yours. “I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
He smiles that little smile, looking down at the table for a moment before the barista brings your coffee order. He pulls his hands away, giving her a nod of thanks, and you take the chance to sip your coffee.
“So… Have you thought of a name for the sculpture yet?” you ask him, and he cracks a smile at you.
“It’s been twenty minutes,” he tells you. “I can’t come up with something that fast.”
“I have a suggestion, if you don’t mind,” you tell him, and he looks up at you.
“Go ahead,” he nods, and you look to your coffee for a moment to build your courage.
“How about, The Gaze of Love?” you offer, waiting for him to start laughing, but he doesn’t.
“I love it,” he tells you, and you smile at him. “When I deliver it to the expo, I’ll title it.”
He talks with you and walks you home, kissing you lightly on your front porch before walking the short distance back home.
On Saturday, when he collects you to travel with him to the expo, he holds your hand and kisses you again.
Critics come to see his work, and you notice more than one of them looking you over, easily recognizing you from his sculpture. One of them nods, giving you a fleeting smile before moving to critique another piece of work.
When you look at it, you notice that Sam’s added a single word to the title and changed the perspective completely.
District Attorney: You heard of the box ghost, now get ready for me. The salt ghost. I’m so salty that I can salt your fish with just a shake if my hand. Salt shakers? Who needs them?! Just pick me up, hold me over your food, and give me a few shakes. Don’t worry, that’s not dandruff in my hair. It’s salt.
I saw a Japanese tweet about the size of the shadows for each fish in Animal Crossing Pocket Camp and decided to translate the names of each fish into English! Hope this helps everyone in your fishing adventures~
Olympic National Park’s rugged shoreline is rich with life. Invertebrates of countless shapes, sizes, colors and textures inhabit the tide pools along Washington’s coast. Pictured here is a starfish with Giant Green Anemones that opens its tentacles like flower petals in the tidal waters. Photo courtesy of Keith Ladzinski.
@zsaszmatazz tagged me to do the “six movies I can watch any time” meme (LIKE 10 YEARS AGO I’M SORRY) so here goes!
1. Road to El Dorado
Don’t tell me you can’t also watch this whenever. It’s lolzy, it’s feelsy, and it’s the source of one of my three OT3s. If Miguel/Tulio wasn’t allowed to be canon, I’m making Miguel/Chel/Tulio my headcanon dammit. Fight me.
The story is a fantastic adventure every time. The music is amazing, the animation is GORGEOUS. The jokes are funny no matter how many times I hear them. “Stars.” “Holy ship.” “Apparently ‘El Dorado’ is native for GREAT… BIG… ROCK.”
And don’t get me started on the armadillo. Is that thing a spirit guide? A god? Probably. I’m for it.
2. Chicken Run
I consider this one a guilty pleasure. Again, always a funny, fun adventure. Just serious enough to balance out the lolz. And Ginger is one hell of a snarky character. I love that she’s simultaneously mom friend and rebel friend.
Also, it’s that claymation Wallace and Gromit animation, which is just… nifty! I always find myself watching certain characters move, checking out different textures, especially with Babs and her knitting. Just… excellent.
Also, also this:
What can I say about this movie? Well…
I was based on a book written by my favorite author, Neil Gaiman, is a fantastic adventure that addresses the line between magic and non-magic worlds and includes such fun things as evil witches, falling in love, warring princes, falling stars, unicorns, ghosts, and sky pirates in drag (which Neil said he’s pretty sure he didn’t write, but it’s such a good scene you guys).
I am always happy by the end of it. The growing-up story is so good. And Tristan kind of bumbles through it like I totally believe I would were I thrown into a story like that. It’s just… such a satisfyingly complete and fun story, and I love it every single time.
Shut the hell your mouth this is the best villain-to-hero story I know. I am always so proud of Megamind. Like, real talk, how often does our favorite adorable villain get the girl? How often do we get to see the bumbling bad guy actually get a cool-ass happy ending? And the emotional journey he goes on gets just serious enough without killing the funny vibe the whole movie carries.
The writing is tropey, but in a way that totally plays on those tropes while making fun of them. Trope-ception is my favorite trope. And I love, love, LOVE the design choices. This movie is so colorful, and the proportions are so over the top. It’s just a visual salad.
And, as always, the jokes are good no matter what. I don’t think I’ll ever get over, “And I love you, random citizen!” This movie is such a fun time, please go watch it.
5. Strange Magic
Have you heard of this movie? Well, now you have. Please go watch it.
Much like Megamind, Strange Magic got pushed to the back burner by more popular movies coming out at the same time. And that’s just a shame, because it’s just so good.
It’s a jukebox musical with reenactments of all sorts of songs, all of which are brilliant (half the time because Evan Rachel Wood My Queen is singing them, but also Alan Cumming, and sometimes they sing together and I die). The story is predictable, but the characters are what make it for me. They’re fun enough that even though I saw the end coming a mile away, it was nothing but enjoyable watching them get there.
This fandom is also dear to my heart. It’s full of some of the sweetest people with some of the most interesting fan fiction that I’ve ever read. When I think good writing, I think @abutterflyobsession who has made me cry on more than one occasion, and @jaegereska whose lore and OCs add so much to the world beyond the movie.
Major draws: good music, lovely animation, self-confidence story, princess with a sword, SWEET SWEET VENGEANCE, and did I mention singing by Evan Rachel Wood, Alan Cumming, and Kristin Chenoweth? Bruh.
My favorite movie for now and always. Set it at the bottom for full effect. Get ready.
First off, music by David Bowie that is fuckin’ catchy as heck. If you don’t want to at least tap your foot along to ‘Dance Magic Dance’ you’re lying. ‘As the World Falls Down’ was the first song I remember wanting to know the lyrics to.
Side note: If you didn’t think the Fireys were creepy as fuck, you’re also lying.
There has never been so much glitter in one place ever. The visual gags are always funny. Like, there are Bowie faces I still can’t find to this day hidden in the scenery??? The muppets are all adorable because Brian Froud is amazing, and I want a pet goblin. Everything is just so much fun to look at. Don’t even get me started on the ridiculous fantasy fulfillment that is the ballroom scene. I just.
The jokes are always funny because they run on a dry sense of humor like mine. “Well, come on feet.” One I missed for years. “No, that’s the dead end, behind you!” Ha, hubris. “It’s a piece of cake!” Shut up, Sarah…
But you also can’t not love the characters? Like, come on, who doesn’t wanna hug Ludo just a little. And Didymus, the fox knight that rides a fuckin’ tiny dog into battle?? And Hoggle who collects jewelry and pretends to be bitter as hell but cares so much??? Heck off, they’re all awesome.
Fave movie. Always.
Honorable Mention: Big Fish
Added this one because I can watch this any time, but it always makes me cry, so I usually save it for when I need a good cry. (Srsly, @may10baby can vouch, I once tried to explain the end to her and started sobbing in the car).
It’s just such a cool story. We get to see the life of the father as told through his own hyperbolic stories, which include a star-studded cast playing funny scenes in between serious family time. And the end… christ, it’s just such a satisfying ending. Such a good play on storytelling and what it can mean to people. Which, as a writer, means a lot to me.
Also, it’s the only Tim Burton movie I’ve seen that doesn’t look like… that. You know. How Burton movies look. Helena Bonham Carter plays like 3 different people, and none of them are Mrs. Lovett. That’s a feat, honestly.
I’ve said this about a few of these, but please watch this movie.
“Do you always understand everything you feel?” Cas asked, one day.
He thought, obscurely, that Spring was the right time for a question like this; or at least this Spring was - a Spring that felt fresh and light and hazy, still dazed by the wonder of Winter’s passing. Dean, sitting in the car beside him, looked washed out by it - or rather, washed clean, Cas supposed he meant. Softened, in any case.
“How d’you mean?” Dean said. He turned to Cas, the bright sun shrinking out the darkness in his eyes - turning them green. Green like go-lights, green like mazes - no, gentler than both of those; green like the water-full leaves of succulent plants. Green like book covers, like peppermint-flavour candies.
“I mean… do you ever feel something that you can’t explain? Something… ineffable?”
Dean pressed his lips together. Cas wondered if he needed to explain the word ‘ineffable’.
“Nah?” he said. “I guess most of what I feel, I know what to call it. I don’t always like it, but at least I know what it is.”
Cas nodded seriously. Dean let the silence rest for a while as they cruised down the Spring-morning road.
“What about you?” he said eventually.
Cas lifted a shoulder.
“I… have a thousand words for how things feel,” he said, “and a thousand things to feel within me. But I… I cannot make them match.”