Writing=Difficult.
So difficult. SO very difficult.
It's ended in a completely different place than I thought, after going through at least three different permutations.
I don't think it's reached the final one yet. It's only a couple of thousand words long, for the spnflashfic "Housing" prompt, which I started writing to give me another option aside from the Big Thing.
It's interesting for me, because usually it's plot I find difficult, in terms of connecting the necessary pieces. Here it's just that the story won't decide what it's doing, whether it's nostalgic or angsty or sexy or what. I think it's angsty, but too much so. It's become indulgent.
I blame Dean, really I do, because he's so fucking emotional, but it's all subtextual, all beautiful, jaw-clenched, gazing off into the horizon, inner pain. That's so hard to write. It's why I adore him, but it's really difficult to write and do him justice. Sammy's taking care of himself, but then he doesn't get the POV.