#Sam reads you wrong

[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

Sam Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SW Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @tipthejar

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @violetlilysunshine @nic-kolas @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @malindacath @brujaporfavor @katherineann83 @torchbearerkyle

@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @adoringanakin @sanscas @pap3rtigers @kaleldobrev @nix-rose

[you-know-cchio]

luke "all the facts i give in the show are fucking true" manning vs. alexander "consistently loses the plot" jeremy is truly an unstoppable force meets an immovable object

like sam bullshits his way through facts, so tom and luke can take joy in correcting his mistakes. but correcting aj only brings the others suffering because most of the time, aj himself doesn't necessarily believe anything that comes from his mouth. the man is just saying words recreationally. which also happens to establish the reality of the world the other three exist in.

[la-pheacienne]

George Martin, 2013: "In a very basic level winter is coming for all of us. I think that’s one of the things that art is concerned with: the awareness of our own mortality. “Valar morghulis” – “All men must die”. That shadow lies over our world and will until medical science gives us all immortality… but I don’t think it makes it necessarily a pessimistic world. Not any more pessimistic than the real world we live in. We’re here for a short time and we should be conscious of our own mortality, but the important thing is that love, compassion and empathy with other human beings is still possible. Laughter is still possible! Even laughter in the face of death… The struggle to make the world a better place… We have things like war, murder and rape… horrible things that still exist, but we don’t have to accept them, we can fight the good fight. The fight to eliminate those things.There is darkness in the world, but I don’t think we necessarily need to give way to despair. One of the great things that Tolkien says in Lord of The Rings is “despair is the ultimate crime”. That’s the ultimate failing of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, that he despairs of ever being able to defeat Sauron. We should not despair. We should not go gentle into that good night".

JRR Tolkien, 1962 : "One reviewer once said, this is a jolly jolly book, all the right boys come home [...]- this isn't true of course, he can't have read the story. [...] Human stories are practically always about one thing, really, aren't they? Death. The inevitability of death. . . . . . (He quotes Simone de Beauvoir) 'There is no such thing as a natural death. Nothing that ever happens to man is natural, since his presence calls the whole world into question. All men must die, but for every man his death is an accident, and even if he knows it he would sense to it an unjustifiable violation.' Well, you may agree with the words or not, but those are the key spring of The Lord Of The Rings".

"Lotr is all rainbows and unicorns and Asoiaf is nihilistic and grimdark". Wrong, and wrong. In all its hope and radiance, lotr often gets very dark, and despite all the death and suffering, the hopeful moments in asoiaf shine bright. The meeting point of these two is this: having hope while in despair, and even better, refusing to give up because you have to go on despite not having any hope left.

[swordsonnet]

i don't know what is funnier: sam asking celia out on a date to see an incredibly depressing play, or alice immediately butting in to suggest they go see her brother's show instead

[shadystranger]

Im crazy about the way they framed this like sam was poisoning his mind

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Noticed But Hoping For The Best Part 5

There was nothing wrong, Danny knew that! He was just getting more and more tired as the ghost attacks ramped up, but it wasn't like he could explain why he was so exhausted. What would he even say? 'I'm the one fighting all the ghosts and going home was stressful until Jazz managed to set the home security system to not target me'? No, absolutely not. Because of that, however, he was forced to endure people acting like he was sick or something!

Well, Jazz didn't at least. She was just doing her general check-ins after his fight, always fussing over him and yet they quicky figured out that any injuries he gains as Phantom? They show up as bruises of varying severity when in his human form! As the bruises faded, the wounds Phantom had slowly healed, though they of course looked how they were supposed to on his ghost form. It was actually really cool to know that he wouldn't end up severely scarred from any injuries he got defending Amity Park!

Still, his sister used any day after a fight as an excuse to fuss and make sure he was okay, even if it was something simple as making him a smoothie for breakfast- when did she start doing that, anyways? Did they really have enough non-sentient food in the fridge, or was Jazz keeping her own personal store of stuff-? Actually that would make sense, maybe he should start doing the same. Sometimes she went a bit overboard, though, like insisting she was the one to comb his hair or tie his shoes before they went out the door. Danny wasn't a toddler, there was no need to go that far!

Still, he good-naturedly rolled his eyes and grumbled, occasionally fighting it- she once tried to zip up his jacket for him! Just because his fingers were clumsy from not getting enough sleep doesn't mean he was unable to do it himself- but otherwise the teen let his older sister fuss, knowing it made her feel better.

Thankfully, Tucker wasn't acting any different, either! It would have been easy to see, since they were spending more time together while Sam was away, but there was no change- except for teasing about his appearance, or about his handwriting. Danny had noticed that about his handwriting as well, lines never seemed to come out straight when he started writing or tried to draw, but that was another thing explained away by exhaustion. The lack of sleep affecting small motor skills was something he'd heard his parents warn each other about when growing up, and after the portal opened Jazz had lectured them about it and forced them to go to bed several times so they wouldn't hurt themselves in the lab.

Sleep felt like a bit of a luxury at this point, like going a week without a ghost attack or a test somehow being cancelled. Sure, he wasn't going sleepless, Jazz would never allow that and the ghosts tended to attack during the day, but apparently six hours weren't enough. Why else would he be nodding off in classes? Or maybe he was just bored, Danny could easily find that to be the case.

And yet when he was Phantom? Oh, he felt fantastic! Completely full of energy, his hands seemed to obey his mind, everything was clear and sharp, it was like he'd downed a coffee just before starting his fights! However, that made everything so much more prominent when he switched back. His left side randomly twitching- probably from overuse, his muscles did tend to feel sore around those times- but at least his right side didn't seem to feel it. It was probably just because the shock entered from his left hand, it would make sense for things to still be healing, even if turning half-ghost fixed most of the damage.

But it really seemed like having to deal with the ghosts invading the town was effecting his life more and more. It was taking longer to heal from any injuries he got in his human form- Dash tripped him once, Danny faceplanted into his locker, got detention for finally yelling at him and the busted lip he got took over two weeks to heal, it wasn't a good day- his grades were starting to drop, Mister Lancer seemed to be increasingly irritated with him. It was so frustrating! He was trying his best!

At least everything seemed to be alright in science class, it was as enjoyable as always. Sure, he always had to ask his lab partner to handle the finer details, like anything involving pipettes, but it was still fun! Even if he didn't enjoy his parents flavor of scientific curiosity, that didn't change the fact science was one of his favorite subjects. So of course, it made sense his luck would work against him and ruin one of the few good school-related things he had.

it was just a normal class, and his hands were steady enough to accurately poor things and use pipettes! Danny felt like he was on top of the world, he hadn't had a good day like this in awhile! There was an idle smile on his face as he worked, his arm wasn't sore- there was no warning when his body decided to betray him. No heads up, none of the soreness he had been using as an indicator to avoid breaking things. His left arm jerked, a stinging sensation streaking up his arm, fingers reflexively unclenching-

The only thing he could think as the beaker shattered on the floor was that he was glad it was empty. The chattering in the room fell silent as everyone turned and just... Stared. It was only for a moment, but it was still unnerving, then Mister Lancer spoke. "Danny, clean up the glass and see me after class- and for the love of Shakespeare, don't handle any more of the glassware."

That... that hurt to hear, in a way Danny couldn't explain. Sure, it made sense- why let someone handle fragile things when there was a chance of it breaking?- but that limited his ability to participate. Was he just going to be forced to watch everyone and do nothing whenever they had lab? The frustration spiked, causing the teen to pause and take a breath as he felt tears prickling his eyes. It was an accident, it wasn't his fault! Still, he managed to take care of the glass without getting any cuts.

There was a feeling of quiet dread, though, when he stayed back after everyone else was dismissed. Was this the final straw or something? Or would it be yet another lecture? He'd been getting a lot of those recently, on top of all the detentions when Mister Lancer decided he'd had enough of Danny dozing in class. It was a complete shock, but also a weight off his shoulders when he heard the magic words, "Calm down, you're not in trouble." So no detentions, and no consequences, fantastic! But of course it couldn't end there. "We just need to talk about something."

Right, of course, his teacher wouldn't hold him back just to say he wasn't in trouble. Still, the moment of silence where it looked like the man was actually thinking about what to say? Terrifying. It was like when his parents gave him The Talk, and while he knew Mister Lancer wouldn't do that it didn't decrease the nerves. "I won't ask for any details, but clearly something has happened."

That was not good- sure, Danny didn't think it was being guessed that he was Phantom, but the fact his exhaustion made someone think that something bad had happened meant he'd probably need to come up with some sort of cover, maybe lie about a lingering flu-

"I have been harsh due to believing you were slacking off, but if this is a genuine problem, it's my job as an educator to make sure any special requirements you have are met." Wait- waitwaitwait, that was as good as an apology from the man! It was impossible not to look at him with wide eyes, but no, it was too good to be true, unfortunately.

"Now, the ban on you handling glassware will exist and stay in place-" That was one of the worst things Mister Lancer could have said. That would effectively ban him from participating in labs, removing the fun parts that made science his favorite class! It was just one accident, it wasn't his fault! It wasn't fair! "-however, you will be given paper assignments you can fill out instead of doing the lab. Partner with someone and watch the experiment, then fill out the sheet your given."

That felt like being kicked when he was down! He couldn't actually participate, but he'd be forced to watch others do things without being able to join in, and then he'd have to write about what he saw! Danny didn't want that, especially because writing causes his hand to cramp severely, no matter which hand he uses! Usually he would be upset, yeah, but... it felt borderline tragic. It had been his first truly good day in a long while, everything was going perfectly, why did something have to go wrong! And Mister Lancer was still talking.

"Every time you submit a written assignment, I would like you to stay back and help me read it; your handwriting is like another language to me. Understood?" It felt like there was something trapped in his throat, to the point it felt hard to breathe, doing his best not to cry as he nodded. On top of not being able to participate in lab, he'd always have to stay back after every end-of-day class because his teacher couldn't even read his handwriting anymore! Why was everything going wrong?!

"Good. You're dismissed." It took all of Danny's effort to choke out the words expected of him, "Thank you." It took all of his effort not to run as he stepped out of the classroom and started walking to his locker to get his bag. He felt a sick, squirming feeling in his stomach, mind twisting itself in knots after that interaction.

And last but not least, there was Dash. The bane of his school life, the closest thing his human half had to a mortal enemy other than Vlad. It seemed like he upped the mockery of his appearance- "Did you run into that lunch ghost on the way here, or do you always end up dumping food on yourself?" "Is it a hurricane out there or did you not bother to brush your hair?" "Jeez Fentoad, you're makin' it too easy if your trip yourself on your own laces!"

Sure, he wasn't the neatest-looking person around, but Danny didn't think it was that bad. Maybe it was because his mind had been looping around after the mini-meeting with Mister Lancer, but he never really focused on his food when eating, and that often led to spilling food. As for laces, it just felt like more effort than it was worth the retie his shoes every single time they came undone- they never seemed to stay in place anymore! But it was just so tiring, dealing with the taunts and jabs, the sore wrists and occasional busted lips from tripping that took forever to heal...

Eventually, Danny stopped jabbing back. Maybe it was because Sam wasn't there to keep encouraging him that that trouble was worth it, maybe it was his own exhaustion, but there were no more verbal responses to the taunts, nothing more than a huff when being shoulder-checked made him stumble. Dash seemed to be getting bored, though that didn't decrease how often he decided to be a pointless jerk all at once. The blonde was determined to drag him down it seemed, though. In the normal day-to-day, the taunting and shoving was decreased, but on the rare occasion Danny was having a good day? Everything went back to normal, and it sucked!

When he wasn't having a good day, though? Everyone was acting like he was sick- he wouldn't say diseased, though, since they didn't avoid him or anything, but the changes in how people looked at him and sometimes even interacted with him was. Conversations that suddenly dropped when he entered a classroom, people whispering to each other every time he passed by, barely concealed looks of pity. The weirdest part? Even Wes was giving him space! Wes! Explained with a handwave and a 'Obviously you can't be Phantom in your condition'. What did that even mean?!

Danny couldn't wait for Sam to get back, maybe she could help figure things out, everything felt like it had become twisted and everyone was acting like it was normal, he was going to go mad at this rate!

Previous Next

[miaowypowy]

coming back to tumblr after years of not even thinking about this app. is there a community for theatre lovers who primarily read weird and/or fucked up plays and want to discuss them. or for dramaturgs. or for anything not musical theatre.

[aspic31]

i wish making shit was the norm i wish everyone created i wish poeple had the time and materials to create and access to educational ressources with no financial conditions-

[angelsdean]

seconds away from making a new spreadsheet for my rewatch where i keep track of times sam has been a hypocrite or manipulative towards dean, or hasn't owned up to his own actions, or has projected his own insecurities onto dean and twisted dean's words / put words into his mouth (all his "i'm a freak YOU think i'm a monster" whining etc etc)

[whysamwhy123]

Can/should I meme myself into writing Shayna/Christian?

I mean, I almost memed myself into writing Shayna/Daniel. And this would be...comparatively less problematic, I guess? LOL.

(Yes, there would be pegging involved.)

#feminism #girlboss #mother #pegthepatriarch(y) #howtallisshe #iwillnevergettiredofthisjoke #anditsliterallywhatshaynadoesoninsta #soitsincharacter #moresothananythingiusuallywrite

[smallishdoggo]

The idea that Dancer didn't and couldn't have known that FCG was a person, and is thus absolved of any responsibility for treating them like an object comes up every once in a while, and, like. Folks. She knew FCG had enough capacity for thought to be worth lying to. She lied to him about having made him. She cannot have considered them basically a toaster. Like, are we imagining that Dancer is out here lying to Pussy the Second to make herself seem smarter?

She bought FCG and restored them, and knew from that restoration that a lot of the technology behind FCG was beyond her understanding. She knew FCG could talk and reason, which is something no automaton we've ever encountered is capable of (excluding aeormatons). She spent four years with him, watching him be very very noticeably different than other automatons. She didn't need to know that he was an aeormaton or what aeormatons were historically capable of; she had all the evidence she needed to understand FCG as a person, and she just didn't.

Like, I can fully believe that she understood all that, that FCG has the capacity to think and feel on some level, and just decided that none of that made them a person. Cause that's the way FCG has thought about themself since their introduction. They think, they feel, they want things, just not how a person would. Not important, not weighty enough to matter.

And I think that matters when thinking about her! Specifically when thinking about her relationship to FCG. Dancer fucked them up! She raised them, he didn't know any other life than the one she built for him till murderbot mode. And I do think she has some responsibility for that. I don't think you can just say that she didn't know any better. She knew a lot! And she could have sought out more information on ancient automatons and their capacities. And she didn't! She knew enough to know she didn't understand FCG and how they worked, and she just. Decided not to do anything about that. She just decided that the thinking feeling robot that she bought should just be a thing that she owns and makes use of, and who cares where it came from or what it might do in the future.

I don't think she's a monster or anything, but it's wild how allergic this fandom is to considering her to have profoundly hurt the person she BOUGHT AND OWNED. Particularly given how gung ho this fandom tends to be about characters having the right to enact bloody vengeance on anyone who has ever made them feel bad.

[zepskies]

✍🏽 (Small) Writing Update...

Just as a heads up: someone has already requested the "Sam" version of my latest Dean imagine: "Dean reads you wrong."

(I should have anticipated that, really. 😂)

So because the idea intrigued me and I haven't written for Sam in a very long time, I'm working on that next! 💜

"Sam reads you wrong" -- coming soon!

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

[saltynsassy31]

I NEED to get this off my chest

Just...ignore me DO NOT COME AFTER ME

Idk if anyone will even see this and altho I hope I'm not the only one in this I rather be ignored and I don't think anyone who follows me cares so here goes

Okay, I really wanna read a glitch in time, but a part of me just... I can't. I haven't been up to date on a lot of Danny Phantom stuff, and I am trying. I am just busy, and I am trying to rewatch the show to refresh my memory first and foremost cuz it has been a hot second, and girlie over here needs a refresher cuz she got the memory of a goldfish

But the reason I can't specifically read glitch in time, even tho I have it with me right now is that...well, I hate the finale of the show, I specifically hate Sam and Danny getting together, especially the way they did, I knew they'd probably be end game but to have it confirmed hurt my soul, I've been avoiding it for that and I know it's silly IM SORRY but it's true 😭😭😭

I feel bad cuz I've only heard good things about it, especially with Vlad, who i love, and I WANT TO, and I hate that what's holding me back is this of all things, its so stupid, I know, I fucking know but UGH! I can't help but cringe. When I first rewatched the final season a while ago I couldn't even finish it

I liked them as friends tbh, it just worked better, imo so I shrivel up inside seeing the two as anything but friends

[curiousscallop]

i actually really love when there's friendships in fiction that everyone thinks are actually romantic relationships that the author either accidentally or homophobically failed to make explicit because nothing makes me feel more seen than friends who "act like lovers"

[quietwingsinthesky]

no, genuinely, like. Ben can’t sleep one night and Dean goes, “oh, don’t worry, I know how to fix this,” and starts offering Ben a drink. and Lisa (<- horrified) goes, “what the fuck are you doing.” Dean just grins and says, fondly reminiscing, “It’s fine, my dad used to do this for me all the time.” Lisa does not let him give her son alcohol. Dean, instead of taking this to mean that his experiences are not universal nor normal, decides that Lisa’s just sensitive about her kid and actually, he was the one with a normal childhood here and getting drugged until you were knocked out because your dad couldn’t handle taking care of you and your crying little brother at the same time is a normal experience.

and yeah anyway later he gives that shifter baby some whiskey. sam doesn’t say anything because he’s soulless and doesn’t care about the baby, but normal sam probably would have at least gone 😬 in the background.

[orchestrel]

i miss 2020 mcyt fandom vibes........