#paint it black
“If I look hard enough into the setting sun, my love will laugh with me before the morning comes”
(Paint It Black - Rolling Stones)
http://kristamillerart.tumblr.com
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stealing wealth of women’s knowledge and giving themselves all the credit? sounds about male
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There are millions and millions of colors, but sometimes there is only blue, or black, or black and blue, or black and black and black and black and black… – Michael Lipsey
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*Paint it Black plays faintly in the back ground*
Paint it Black
I wrote this for @deanwanddamons Rock SPN challenge! My song was Paint it Black by the Stones. Not gonna lie, this is kind of a heavy little drabble for being just under 500 words but it ain’t a happy song, okay?! But let me know what you think!
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 493
Warnings: Character death
Summary: How is it possible to see anything but black when the only color is ripped from Dean’s life?
Dean’s feet were cemented to the ground as he watched from across the street. He had been there for hours, unmoved. Hands bore the painfully beautiful box that housed his only joy and carried her grievously out the doors of the church, leaving a trail that ripped any vibrance from the world in its wake.
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black.
Tearful strangers followed, piling into vehicles that followed the hearse in a mournful parade. Dean couldn’t help but wonder who each of them were, and how they knew you. But he also knew that none of them knew you like he did.
I see a line of cars
And they’re all painted black
With flowers and my love
Both never to come back
You were it for him, and he was it for you. You two had met when Sam went off to college, and Dean found himself constantly running back to you, vowing that he would leave the hunting life and settle down by your side. Not that he’d ever admit that he believed in soulmates, but Dean knew you were his, and he did everything in his power to keep you safe from any monster imaginable, only to have you pulled from his life at the hands of a brain tumor.
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
Dean was beyond feeling grief, beyond feeling pain, beyond feeling anything, and had no clue if the droplets on his cheeks were from the rain or from his tears. His feet led him towards the Impala, and he followed the procession towards the graveyard. He watched from the car as they lowered you into the ground, only just now able to process that he never got to say goodbye to you; that he would never hear your giggle again and questioned the purpose of living a life void of your color.
Maybe then, I’ll fade away
And not have to face the facts
It’s not easy facing up
When your whole world is black
It must have been two hours that Dean sat behind the wheel, eyes not focusing on anything in particular. He shoved the heavy car door open and trudged across the damp grass towards the overturned earth that was your final resting place. He fell to his knees, desperately trying to grab hold of one of the thoughts whizzing around in his brain. He had so many things he wanted to say to you, but all he managed to whisper was, “Why?”.
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
You were gone, taking the remains of Dean’s already broken soul with you. And just like that, Dean stopped caring about anything. The world could burn for all he cared.
I wanna see it painted
Painted black
Black as night
Black as coal
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Paint It Black, the film adaptation of Janet Fitch’s 2006 novel of the same name, premiered last month at the Los Angeles Film Festival. It’s actor and poet Amber Tamblyn’s directorial debut.
Tamblyn says it took her a long time to grant herself permission to become a director: “Being a former child actress left me feeling creatively limited for so many years in my early 20s, mainly because I knew there was so much I wanted to do, but didn’t know how to do it without the permission of older white men,”
Read more about Paint it Black here.
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On This Day 1969 (08.06.1969) The Rolling Stones fire founding member Brian Jones, whose relationship with his bandmates has deteriorated beyond repair. Brian Jones tells the press he is leaving to “play my kind of music.” Less than a month later, he is found dead at his home.
