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#seriously this interaction is going to rattle in my brain for AGES
punkpendulum · 3 months
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Something AMAZING from crafting queer night. I made a lesbian bracelet for myself and then I started making buttons with my friend and I made a he/they button and I say to my friend "now I can confuse people with even more success" and my friend goes "honestly I just thought that you were a man who was also a lesbian" and !!! Like you're incorrect but also you're not but also THANK YOU for just being so CHILL and not giving me a lecture on how being a lesbian means not being a man in any capacity. We need more queer people who just see a wacky mix of labels and go "okay cool" WE NEED THAT
IM TIRED OF GETTING LECTURES FROM CIS WOMEN ABOUT THE RULES OF LESBIANISM WHEN THEY FIND OUT IM TRANS MASC AND ALSO A LESBIAN IM TIRED OF IT. THIS WAS SO REFRESHING
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fagexe · 9 months
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my doc upped my adhd meds and my brain is rattling and nobody is home for me to talk to… so, here you go, it’s me! a machine of consciousness!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Every once in a while i consider getting off tumblr, but then i remember that this is my main(only) source of people who care about mcr as much as i do. Don't get me wrong, i have friends who are always excited to hear me talk about whatever the fuck is going on with those freaks and i love them for it, but they don't really have a lot of opinions or things to say. They like to hear about it because they care about me and want to hear about the things that i care about, which is fucking wonderful! But, at a certain point i feel like a physicist talking to a first grader. They retain most of the information i give them and some of them listened to my chem growing up. But the ones that did were never like seriously into them. They know the hits or maybe had a bp cd in hs but that's it. Aka they weren't/aren't in the spaces and don't really have the full context and overflowing number of opinions that comes from being here for years and years and years. So.... i don't really know anybody irl who was and still is in the fandom. I had friends in “high school” that were into them at the same level i was at that point, but a lot of us have drifted apart or they've drifted away from mcr (i use quotation marks cuz i'm referring to the age range not actually going to high school ((since i didn't do that;) )). I think the third or fourth to last time i saw the person I talked about MCR the most with in hs was at a celebration show that absolutely rocked my world, but that was like 2014 or something idk. I still have that one on instagram:0 they're a dj now! it's so wonderful to see them finding success at something they were wanting to do back then. But like we don't really talk(meaning we don't talk). I want people to go off with irl so badly. dykegerard and amanda are the luckiest fucking duckies, also fievel is the cutest little baby!!!:) (ps i miss living with a dog so bad) (pps yes i know dykegerard has a real name but that's their name in my head) i want to marry somebody who cares about mcr as much as i do<3 it's nowhere near the top of what would be important for me to marry someone, but it would be cute.
Oh dear lord, okay, i went off for a second, give me a minute
Ok, my other thought was -> Yeah, i think i would miss having that (mcr besties) but like i only actually talk to a few people on here and if i wanted to i could talk to them somewhere else. But I like doing silly little zines!! And this is my main(only((unless one of my irl friends is doing one. But those zines are never fanzines, they are usually poetry or political, which I love, but it's definitely a different vibe )) source of knowing when those are happening and knowing when their apps are happening. I know a lot of them are promoted on twitter in addition to here. But! I absolutely refuse to go on twitter in any sort of real and sustained way. Yes, i have a twitter. Yes, i go on there occasionally. But no, i will not be replacing tumblr with twitter, doing that would keep all of the things i dislike about tumblr and the way i interact with it and get rid of most of the things i like about tumblr. Also as far as i can tell mcr twitter is absolutely fucking wild, and not in the way i want it to be.
Speaking of zines :) I've been looking through all of the final submissions for the swarm zine and everyone's work is so absolutely amazing, i'm so excited for it to come out. I'm also just generally like pretty proud of the piece I have in there:) Since going back to school for art stuff everything's gotten to feel much more serious, which isn't necessarily bad. I am genuinely very serious and care a lot about the work I make. But also like having a fun low stakes artistic outlet has been absolutely amazing :) Plus since the thing I work on at school is film/video/installation, working in a format that's not even kind of related to that is really wonderful:)) anyway, FFUCKING GET HYPE FOR SWARM TO COME OUT!! (Having all of that capitalized feels really aggressive and I don't like it but I wasn't sure which part to capitalize so I left it all capitalized. I thought about just having “fucking get hype” capitalized but then it seems weird to go from “high energy” to “low energy”:/, maybe just hype capitalized idk whatever.)
Ok i’m going to go see the regrettes at wickerfest see you later bye-bye <33
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bottoms-movie · 3 years
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SAMBUCKY FIC RECS PT. 2
The first part did really really so I decided to make a second part of sambucky fic recs. Just as the last one: the fics are split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. CHECK OUT PART ONE HERE All fics are completed and all are on AO3. 
BASED ON TFATWS
The Truths Beneath Our Ribs | Mature | 6,742 words
5 times Bucky wears Sam's things +1 time Sam wears something of Bucky's
anything you can do, i’ll do you better | Explicit | 5,526 words
Steve is going to kill them if they don't learn to get along, but did they have to take it so far?
making amends | Explicit | 8,645 words
“Not Cap yet,” Sam said. He looked a little ruefully at his hands, which were covered in nicks and cuts. He could already feel his palms bruising from that last shield catch, but at least nothing was broken this time.
“I respect that,” Bucky said slowly. Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. Bucky flexed and unflexed the vibranium fingers of his left hand, a nervous habit that Sam had clocked ages ago. “And you’re right.”
“Thanks, I know.” Sam waited a beat. “About what?”
Muscle Memory | 3 parts | Explicit | 13,156 words part 1: Muscle Memory | Teen | 1,766 words
Barnes sighs, and it’s a deep, soul-weary thing. “Maybe no one ever told you this, but I’m telling you right now. You don’t have any obligation to care about me because Steve did. You don’t have to pretend.”
Sam blinks, taken aback. He has to think, really think, about what he says next, because it’s - it’s either going to build or break something.
You’re My World | Explicit | 6,585 words
“I… oh, I get it now.” Sam tilted his head, perceptive as ever, goddammit. “All this flirting with my sister, that was just to get my attention, wasn’t it? I know it was. Say it.”
“That wasn’t—” Bucky croaked, but Sam wasn’t having it.
He huffed a low laugh, and bulldozed right through Bucky’s feeble pretense. “You like it when I pin you against the wall? Take away all that power you have, that strength that your arm gives you? Make you feel small, maybe?”
Call Me By Your (Pet) Name | Teen | 6,928 words
“You got a list of the nicknames available to us lesser mortals?” Sam continued, staring straight ahead at the seat in front of him. “The ‘you’re not Steve Rogers, so don’t even think about it’ collection?”
“Yeah, sure, there’s a list,” Bucky replied, pausing long enough to draw a pointed look from Sam. “Bucky,” he finished, gesturing broadly with his arm to convey the obviousness of the answer.
5 times Sam and Bucky used pet names as a joke + 1 time they used them in earnest
That’s not very gunkle of you | 2 parts | 4,325 words part 1: Bestie Vibes Only | Teen | 1,822 words
“What’s buzzin’ cousin?” Says Bucky, sitting down next to Sam on the docks.
That’s the moment that Sam realizes he needs to change tactics, no more subtly looking up definitions for his weird old person slang, it’s time to fight fire with fire.
“Not much bro, this view is highkey just hitting different TBH” he says, casually looking out at the water.
There’s a beat of silence and then,
“That’s swell doll, I just ate some four-o cackle jelly with side arms, and I’m looking for some kicks, you dig?
Oh, this means war.
misunderstandings | Not Rated | 3,167 words
Sam thinks Sarah and Bucky had a date, and he's Not Okay
you walked into my life to offer me a better view | Teen | 2,534 words
He was standing twenty feet away at the edge of the docks, chatting with Sarah, and Sam couldn't take his eyes away. Bucky's smile was warm, wide, and when he tipped his head back and laughed, his nose scrunching up and eyes crinkling at the corners, Sam could feel it vibrate straight to his heart.
falling, falling, flying | Teen | 2,778 words
Bucky had kissed him.
And Sam had pulled away, because that beautiful golden sunset made Bucky’s hair gleam with the faintest touch of blond, that rare summer breeze hissed like a dying missile past Sam’s ears, the kiss was so familiar, too familiar, and Sam was falling, falling—
(“Let yourself be happy, Sam. Please.”)
lonely boy, you are my world (and i could be anything you need) | Teen | 5,747 words
It all starts with Sam, a shelter, and this sweet kitten that reminded him far too much of a certain century-old, grouchy super soldier.
too dangerous to fall | Explicit | 3,466 words
Bucky Barnes is a one-armed menace. He has murder eyes and no care for basic safety protocols. His jokes are terrible and his bad moods are worse. He’s a godawful roommate who leaves his wet towels on the floor and his combat knives in the linen cabinet. Sam can’t stand the sight of him.
What happens in Louisiana | General | 3,478 words
But just then, in the engine room of the Wilson family boat, away from prying eyes, it felt like something they both needed. The closeness. The warmth.
Steve would laugh at them. Two grown men not being able to get it together. He would roll his eyes at Buck, nudge him with his elbow and tell him “you’re sweet on Sam Wilson so make a move already, punk.”
keep the ashes from my heart (and walk away) | Explicit | 4,412 words
“Jamie asked me out on a date,” Sam says. Bucky swallows. “Took him long enough,” he says, keeping his tone light. He bumps their shoulders together for good measure. “You should go for it.” “You really think so?” Sam asks, looking at him. “Yeah, man,” Bucky says. He fixes his gaze on Torres, high up in the sky, sunlight glinting off his wings. It hurts Bucky’s eyes. He blinks, rapidly. “You should be with somebody who can make you happy.”
(In which Sam starts dating someone who is not Bucky, and Bucky pines, gets seriously injured, and proves himself wrong.)
Hey Samuel | Teen | 3,223 words
"Bucky."
"Yeah?" He looked up eyes wide. Did he say something out loud?
"We're walking the wrong way."
"Oh." Right. Um. "Let's get ice cream."
"I don't know about you, man, but if I eat ice cream in this weather I will get sick."
Bucky was at a loss for words. What now?
OR Ride along Bucky's journey of figuring out when exactly did he fall for Sam Wilson.
Anyday, everyday | General | 6,735 words
He moved his head and locked eyes with Sam. "D'you- can you.. help me cut my hair?" He asked. He forced himself to look away, feeling embarrassed for asking him to come all this way just to give him a haircut.
His stomach dropped when he felt Sam let go of his hand to stand up. Of course he was about to leave. Who wouldn't want to leave Bucky?
"C'mon, Buck. Let me cut your hair." Bucky's eyes snapped up to Sam's. He had a small smile on his face and his hand was reaching out, waiting for Bucky to take it.
Or; the five times Bucky fell more and more in love with Sam, and the one time he finally got the guts to tell him.
If You’ll Have Me | Teen | 4,779 words
Sam casually shrugged, although there was an intent look in his eyes, "Yeah, well it's getting late and I didn't feel like flying anymore so I was wondering if your old man self is okay with-"
"You can stay here." Bucky quickly finished for him.
I like Bucky, Sam I am | Not Rated | 2,653 words
"I would kiss you on the boat. Or in Wakanda by your goats."
Static in the Dark | Teen | 4,989 words
So prompt idea, some bad guy follows Bucky to the docks for revenge (over whatever you can decide) and Sarah gets to see how protective Bucky really is over Sam when he gets in the line of fire
CANON DIVERGENCE
A Different Kind of Problem | Explicit | 7,616 words
“Do you know what it feels like to be insatiable?”
Two months ago, an interrogation gone wrong left Sam with Bucky’s explicit words seared into his brain and body.
Now, Bucky is living in the Avengers Compound, making pancakes and wearing Steve’s huge sweatshirts, fluffy haired and a little shy, seemingly completely content to be on house arrest — and Sam has never been more confused. Whatever Steve thinks, Sam doesn’t have a problem with Bucky. This domesticity is just so at odds with the feral sexuality Bucky had used to rattle Sam during his interrogation. Where did that side of Bucky go? And why can’t Sam stop thinking about finding it? Maybe Sam does have a problem with Bucky… it’s just not the problem Steve thinks it is.
Bucky’s Choice | Not Rated | 4,753 words
When Bucky enters Westview to try to help Wanda Maximoff, he is confronted with something he never expected- Steve Rogers, back from the dead and ready to start a life with Bucky in Westview. It's everything that Bucky ever wanted, everything that Steve abandoned when he went back in time to live his life with Peggy Carter. But Bucky and Sam have been involved for months, and Sam is waiting for Bucky outside of the Hex. Bucky has to make a choice- the life he always wanted with Steve, or a new start with Sam?
tonight i’ll need you to stay | General | 2,227 words
For once, Bucky wants to stop leaving when things are finally looking up. And he wants people to stay with him, too.
(or, 3 times bucky needed an excuse to stay with sam, and the one time he didn't)
How to Win a Supersoldier in Ten Days | Explicit | 14,901 words
When they realize that all the Winter Soldier's interactions with Sam are just him trying to Awkward MurderBot Flirt (TM) with the sexy man, Steve, Tony, and Nat convince Sam to play the honeypot and bring Bucky in.
Sam's pretty sure the honeypot isn't supposed to fall in love with the target, but what can you do?
at the end of the war (what’s mine is yours) | Mature | 4,290 words
They don't talk about it: that's how it works.
warm blood (feels good, i can’t control it anymore) | Explicit | 4,492 words
Sam's just chilling watching TV one evening when Bucky comes in and stares at him silently for a minute or two before sitting down on the couch. He's pretty close to Sam.
Okay, he's really close to Sam. Like, Sam would be using the word 'cuddling' if it wasn't so bizarre.
"What," he says, carefully not looking at Bucky, and Bucky huffs a sigh.
"Steve's not here," he says as if it's obvious. "Don't make it weird. Just- shut up."
Caught With Their Pants Down | Explicit | 3,539 words
“Sam, this guy is not coming, the intel was false,” Bucky replied. “I get this whole ticking boxes and what not, but Rogers got it wrong, and for the love of God I need a fucking toilet.”
“You need to learn to plan your water intake better, is what you need. You’re a damn fool and I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Because you love me,” Bucky replied, and Sam could hear the smile in his voice.
“In your damn dreams, Barnes.”
They’d been fucking for about six months, but Sam didn’t want Bucky to go getting a big head about it.
AU
sharp teeth, soft heart | 3 parts | 17,866 words part 1: you touch me within and so i (know i could be human once again) | Explicit | 12,444 words 
It’s inevitable, the way it goes. He’s my friend, Steve says, and he is, he is, he must be. Sam’s best friend is Steve, and Steve’s best friend is a werewolf, that’s just how Sam’s life works now.
But once he realizes he’s attracted to Bucky and Bucky can tell, everything becomes, like, a thousand percent more difficult to negotiate. Sam’s just trying to live his life, that’s all, and he keeps getting confronted by Bucky Barnes in a soft flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair all soft and shiny. Bucky glances over at him and smirks, and this is really very embarrassing, how Sam can’t hide his attraction even if he keeps a totally straight face.
I’m so into you I can barely breathe | Explicit | 6,515 words
Sam Wilson had a long day dealing with morons, so he decided to finally go to the famous club in town. There he meets someone who just might get him back in a good mood. And then some.
twelve ounce steak (boxers in briefs) | Explicit | 3,753 words
Sam has pretty lips. Bucky seems to think so, too.
caught it bad (i’ll be on the way) | Mature | 4,830 words
Sam constantly gets roped into doing dumb things with Steve, but this time, it works out perfectly for him.
meet me in the a.m. | Teen | 3,147 words
Steve accidently starts a fire and Bucky's tired. When unbelievably hot firefighter Sam saves the day, though, he can't really be that mad.
i wanna savour, save it for later | Not Rated | 6,419 words
"It's his damn ratings, man," Sam says. "It's weird 'cause when you read the reviews, he seems to like our food and all. Nothing but praise for days. And then you get to the rating, and it's always the same. Three goddamn stars."
Bucky tips his beer bottle from side to side, lips pursing slightly. "I see. And that's… a bad thing?"
"We are not a three-star joint," Sam says flatly.
Or, the one where food truck owner Sam gets caught up in his quest to unmask an anonymous food blogger. Falling for one of his regulars was never on the menu.
we were a fire with no smoke | Explicit | 15,295 words
Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.
“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.
“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”
my house of stone, your ivy grows | Teen | 9,042 words
When Sam Wilson inherits the manor of the old man he once took care of, it feels like his luck is finally looking up. It's an opportunity for a fresh start, something he's in desperate need of. When he arrives, however, it becomes clear that an easy transition into estate living is not exactly a possibility. The house is run-down, nothing like Sam remembers it, and the groundskeeper — who Sam apparently has to share the house with, wants nothing to do with him.
You Smiled Because You Knew | Teen | 3,754 words
"You've got the wrong address," the man who'd answered growled. He had long, scraggly hair that had mostly escaped his attempts to pull it away from his face. He had nice eyes, and wouldn't have been unattractive, especially with a shave, except for the scowl. "Nobody here wants or needs your . . . services."
It was apparent by the tone the man did not appreciate Sam's hard work.
Well, that was tough shit.
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miss-tc-nova · 4 years
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All Flustered - Young Xehanort x Fem!Reader
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Ah, this, ladies and gentlemen, is a reader after my own heart! Yes, Eraqus is definitely my fluff motivator while I tend to write angst for Xehanort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him! And you can bet your ass I postponed finishing ‘A SOLDIER’s Memories’ to write this!
Hope this is what you were looking for Anon. 
~~~~~
               I hum to myself, checking over the assignment from last night. The morning sunlight streams in through the classroom window, providing the perfect amount of light and warmth while I enjoy my peaceful moment. Once class starts, I’ll have Tardy Fleetfoot, Smarmy Fluffcoat, and Haughty Swaggerstep to deal with, names courtesy of Tardy himself. They aren’t bad people; none of my classmates are, but peace is certainly a rarity once those three are involved.
               “Do you ever leave this room?”
               Ah, peace is over.
               I pull my gaze from the text to find two of the rabble-rouser trio, Eraqus and Xehanort. The shorter male leans in to take a look at my work. “You’re not done yet? That’s not like the top student.”
               “I finished last night. I was just double checking it,” I reply.
               “Oh. Let me see what answers you got.” Without asking, Eraqus takes my paper and wanders off with it.
               I sigh and start packing up my things, very much aware that Xehanort is still standing there watching me.
               “Seriously, do you ever leave this room outside of keyblade training?” he repeats.
               My ears burn and I only spare him a glance. Xehanort had only joined our class a couple years ago but quickly matched our ranks. There’s hardly a subject he has trouble with and his drive is incredible, though apparently that doesn’t mean he’s above teasing others. He plays indifferent but it’s pretty obvious his classmates have become his friends. He’s smart and confident and strong and I have the biggest crush on him.
               I don’t know what happened. I’d been asked to help catch him up on our curriculum but he refused my help and did it himself in just a few months. As time went on and we had our interactions, I couldn’t help noticing that inspiring confidence and the spark in his eyes at a challenge. There’s just some sort of charm there that has me smitten beyond my control. It’s a terrible distraction in class sometimes.
               But I could never let him know. I prefer observation, letting the others hold most of the attention during class. By nature, that makes me a bit more introverted. Xehanort, on the other hand, is definitely not afraid to speak his mind. Not only would he very likely turn me down in a heartbeat, but the entire class would hear about it. Bragi and Vor might tease me for a while but even after that’s subsided everything would be miserably awkward. That’s one hell I’d like to steer clear of in this lifetime.
               “Yes,” I answer simply. “I just like to get here early. It’s peaceful.”
               “How the heck did I get the number twelve as the second tier ice spell?!” Eraqus exclaims from the table.
               Xehanort raises a brow at his best friend and I can’t help giggling. “Well it was.”
               I collect my things from the window bench and move to the table. Before long, the first class of the day starts.
~~~~~
               “How was that?”
               I drop my shield and give my go-to partner, Hermod, a thumbs-up. “That was great.”
               He looks to his boots. “I think my stance was a bit off.”
               “Well why don’t you give it another go?”
               “Okay.” Hermod and I set up once again but just as he prepares to rush me, we’re interrupted.
               “Excuse me, you two.” We glance back to find Master Odin approaching with Eraqus and Xehanort. “I know you prefer working together, but I need you to work with these two and help them with the new technique.”
               “Uh, yes sir,” Hermod responds dutifully.
               Oh no…
               “Thank you.” With that, the Master ushers Hermod and Eraqus away, leaving me to work with Xehanort.
               Crap!
               Xehanort folds his arms and huffs. “Guess it was a matter of time before we got in over our heads.”
               Trying to ignore the nerves working in my chest, I tilt my head. “You normally pick up keyblade work very quickly without any help.”
               “Yeah, well this one’s not very useful,” he grumbles.
               It’s not very common to see Xehanort perturbed so this is fairly interesting. Still, I know he’s determined so I’ll help him out any way I can.
               “I’m sure you’ll catch on soon enough,” I encourage, insides freezing at the skeptical glare. “Come on. Show me what you’ve got so far.”
               It gives me some joy to have Xehanort flip his opinion on the technique once I’ve sorted out exactly where his problem lies. Soon, he’s on the verge of destroying my shield rather than bouncing off it. At his insistence, we move on to practical application while sparring and he’s certainly got me on the ropes.
               Until disaster strikes.
               My foot catches on an uneven stone and I hit the ground. It’s too late for my opponent to halt his attack and Xehanort ends up tripping over me. I wait for the collision but it’s not nearly as squishing as I’m expecting.
               “Are you okay?”
               Eyes snapping open, I suddenly feel as if I’ve been lit on fire. He may not have been able to stop his fall but Xehanort managed to catch himself and prevent himself from crushing me. He’s still far too close for comfort though.
               Out of desperation to remove myself from the situation, I shove him off me and sit up. “Yeah! I’m fine!” I say, quickly standing and brushing the dirt from my pants. I’m terrified to look at him, terrified that my burning face will betray me. “S-Sorry!” My saving grace comes in the tolling bell. “Oh thank gods!” I breathe, scurrying back into the castle.
               It takes me ages to push the event out of my head. My diversion tactic is the usual: dive head first into my studying. I sneak away to the library which also happens to have a very cozy little window seat. As I settle in, it’s knowledge that washes away my anxieties and consumes the remainder of my day.
               “So you do leave the classroom.”
               Heart stops and blood runs cold. No. He’s not… My eyes flash to the figure strolling along the bookshelves. There’s an all-knowing smile on his lips and the way he approaches is reminiscent of a predator whose prey has zero escapes. He is!
               “Xehanort,” I manage to utter, closing my book. “What are you doing here?”
               “This is a library,” he replies lightly. “Can’t I come to study just like you?” I bite back my response. “But you’re smart enough to know that’s not true aren’t you. So I’ll get to the point: you weren’t at dinner.”
               He’s right. I’d been so focused in trying to push him out of my head that I completely forgot about eating. It had gotten so late, only the bright moonlight from the window was what allowed me to continue reading. “Oh…I completely forgot. I was so busy studying I-”
               “Why are you avoiding me?”
               Without even a minute change in his predatory expression, Xehanort takes another step closer and my body reactively shrinks back. The blood is flowing again and I can’t maintain eye contact.
               “Interesting. Our class’s top student, scared of me?”
               “N-No,” I stammer.
               Clearly entertained, he leans closer. “Then what’s wrong?”
               Snatching up my books, I stand. “I need to go.”
               One step into my flight, a hand takes my arm. I let out a squeak of a gasp when my back meets the wall. There’s a thump right above my head. I keep my eyes clamped shut because I know what meets me should they open; I can feel the warmth coming from him—that’s how close he is. Even more, I don’t even have to look to witness the sheer gratification rolling off him. There’s no doubt he’s enjoying this.
               “What’s wrong?” his smooth voice hums. The mint toothpaste on his breath ghosts across my cheeks.
               “Th-This isn’t funny.” I curse myself for stuttering, but I swear my heart is beating so hard that’s why my voice shakes.
               “Of course it’s not.”
               I finally persuade myself to peek and it was a mistake. His face is only centimeters away, those dazzling argent eyes capturing mine. I can’t look away but the wall won’t let me through.
               “Don’t get me wrong, I take pride in eliciting this sort of reaction from you, but this isn’t a joke.” I can hear the pleased smile in his words but my gaze is still glued to his. I’d never noticed the alluring flecks of deep silver dappled among sterling in those eyes before.
               Not the time for that! It takes so much effort to keep my breath from shuddering. “Then why are you doing this?” I whisper.
               “I’ll admit you’re very subtle, at least until you’re caught off guard. Then you’re very easy to read. I’m impressed you kept your little secret hidden for so long; not even Urd or Vor knew.”
               “No,” I breathe, knowing I’ve been found out.
               “Oh yes. And I’m flattered, really.”
               “Oh no.” I can feel the constriction in my chest and I’m praying to wake up from this dream.
               “Don’t get me wrong.” His finger under my chin forces my face up. “You’re very pretty but above that, you’re smart and quite the little sweetheart too, huh?”
               Feeling vulnerable and stepped on, I mutter, “Would you just get it over with?”
               His eyes almost glow in the illumination of the moon. “Alright.”
               Time stops, or perhaps that’s just my brain. It only took a slight dip of his head and Xehanort’s got his lips to mine. Due to the earlier mentioned problem of brain not working, I don’t resist his lead, falling further and further under his spell with each move. The fog in my head descends into my chest, dissipating that heavy sinking of dread, replacing it with a weightless euphoria I couldn’t have imagined.
               Xehanort breaks away but my lips chase his without my consent, stealing another kiss. When I realize what I’m doing, I pull back as far as the wall will let me, embarrassment blazing across my skin.
               “I’m so sorry,” I apologize in a whisper.
               His chuckle rattles my fragile grip on stability. “Don’t be.” My inhale comes staggered when his fingers slide into my hair. Speaking in the low voice that makes my knees weak, he murmurs, “I very much enjoy seeing how you react to me.” It takes everything I have not to lunge at him when his lips barely graze mine as he continues. “I look forward to seeing just what other reactions I can get from you.”
               “What do you mean?”
               “Saturday, I’m taking you to that founding festival coming up. Sound like a plan?”
               I can’t tell if I’m trembling or not, but I manage a steady answer. “Yes.”
               “Good.” Finally he relents and gives me a third kiss but it’s far more casual and relaxed—I still want more.
               The boy breaks away from me, clearly amused at the shaken state he’s left me in. Clinging to the books against my chest, I glance away.
               “You really are cute, you know that?” It’s in a teasing tone but I can tell that he means it. I have no answer to that but my stomach apparently does and I’d like to just die now. Xehanort laughs. “Come on. I bet we can sneak something from the kitchen before they lock everything down.”
               I gasp quietly when he takes my hand and leads me away in confidence. Before we even make it out of the library, I’m smiling away like a love struck fool.
~~~~~
               I’m running a bit late today. My dumb brain wouldn’t let me sleep last night, replaying my moonlight kiss over and over; I’m pretty sure I even dreamt of it. Then I’m afraid that I actually dreamt it.
               Turning the corner, just before I enter the class, I can hear people talking. Xehanort’s in there, talking about me.
               “So I’m taking her to that festival on Saturday.”
               “There’s no way our shy little smarty is going on a date with you,” argues Urd.
               “It’s true. Had her like putty in my hands after just one kiss.” That brings a frown to my face; it’s true of course but he didn’t need to tell everyone.
               Eraqus exclaims, “Wait, you kissed her?!”
               “Yeah,” he laughs. “She’s cute when she’s all flustered.”
               He’d gotten the better of me last night and, while I very much enjoyed it, I won’t go on without it being known that I can be bold too.
               Steeling my nerves, I stalk towards the offender. Silver eyes fly wide open when I snatch fistfuls of his black jacket. With a sharp tug, I pull the boy around. His arms grasp at me as I dip him beneath me and jam my lips against his. For a brief moment, I consider taking advantage of his shock and basking in this feeling of dominance I’m sure will be rare in our relationship. However, seeing as we have an audience, I release my captive and right his posture. Pride and absolute delight fill my chest at the sight of Xehanort’s bright red face and shock.
               “I-um-uh-I-” he stammers, truly at a loss for words.
               “Yeah,” I say, beaming at my friends. “He’s cute when he’s all flustered.”
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itsmkjones · 7 years
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Imagine: Dean finding out you like Sam.
Sam x Reader
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7
Finally the long awaited (my sincere apologies) Part 7! (Will update previous parts to reflect new one. This will take a few minutes).
You slumped against the wall. Your most recent encounter with Sam still had your heart pounding and knees weak. A glimpse of yourself in the metal of a sword mounted on the wall confirmed your cheeks were still bright with a blush too. You sighed, scrubbing your hands against your face. Embarrassment was quickly crawling into your heart as the heat ebbed. You gave yourself a cooling moment to suck in a long steadying breath. It was quickly thwarted by an overwhelming rush of mortification that twisted your heart and replayed the previous seen with scathing mockery. You pushed away from the wall urging your legs to carry you away from the hall as if the place itself was the root of your tournament.
You felt a little better as you made your way through the bunker. As if drawn to make your excuse the truth, you headed towards the garage where you knew Dean would be tinkering under Baby’s hood. He was humming a tune you couldn’t recognize as you entered. You leaned on the rolling tool station watching him work obliviously for a few minutes. For a brief window, your previous Sam interaction was forgotten. It came back with a forceful vengeance, the alluring picture of his arm tensed in front of you slamming to the forefront of your mind.
“Y/n? Why are you staring at me completely red? Oh crap, did I forget to zip up-”
“Ah! No!” You interrupted Dean as he shifted away from the engine to analyze his crotch. You cleared your throat. “Need, uh, some help?”
You stepped forward knocking the station forward. You caught it easily, but the metal tools rattled noisily in the tin drawers. Dean raised an eyebrow at your clumsy display not bothering to cover up his suspicion, especially after you shot him an apologetic smile.
“Okay… sure.” He wiped his hands on a towel before throwing it over his shoulder. “Hand me the ratchet.”
He pointed to the cart. You glanced at the pile of tools, then turned to him and blinked politely.
“The socket wrench.” He clarified.
You automatically nodded at his matter-of-fact tone. You picked up a metal tool, with a ‘c’ shape at the end.
“Here?” You held it out to him. “This is a wrench, right?”
Dean looked up. “Uh… well, yeah… it is.” He plucked it from your hand and tossed it back on the pile. You watched his back as he looked through the tools. He selected on and held it in the air so you could see it over his shoulder. “This is a socket wrench.” He turned to face you. “You don’t know what a wrench is?”
You stuffed your hands in your back pockets avoiding his stare. “N-no… why would I know?”
“How did you get to your age without learning what a friggin’ wrench is?” He shook his head in disbelief making his way back to the hood.
“I’ve never needed to use one.” You explained with a measure of defensiveness in your voice.
“Of course you have!” He gestured with it as he reached into the car’s guts. “It’s one of those things that you should always have handy. I can’t believe no one’s told you this…”
You mimicked his stance; leaning over, planting your hands on the edge of the car, fingers carefully curled not to touch anything. He met your eyes. The corner of your lips pulled back in a humorless smile.
“Who could have told me?” You reminded him softly.
Realization flicked in his gaze. He licked his lips before standing upright. He held up the wrench in the space between you. “Alright, this is a socket wrench or a ratchet socket drive wrench.” He leaned back to scoop up a long metal shaft from the pile. “This is an extension bar, I use it so I can reach spark plug…”
He bent over; you lowered onto your forearms so you could follow what he was doing.
“Can’t you just pull them out?” You asked.
“No…” he grunted as his hands disappeared. “That could ruin the spark plug lead.”
“Why are you unplugging the spark plugs?”
“It’s not-” He exhaled focusing on turning the ratchet. “I’m tuning up the engine…” He stood up again, but you remained where you were. He waved a hand absentmindedly as he explained, “I already changed the oil and filter, so now I’m fitting new spark plugs.”
“Oh… so what are you doing now?”
“Checking to see if the need to be replaced… see here? The contacts are all burned out, so I’m going to refit the plug.”
He worked like this for a while, narrating the steps and explaining the tools. He didn’t mind when you asked questions, enthusiastically and seriously answering each one. You were holding a container of mechanic’s lube for him as he was finishing up an informative account on the proper spark plug gap and torque. His demeanor shifted slightly. He glanced from the metal nub in his hand to you.
“So, you wanna tell me why you came here?”
“What? I can’t just hang out with you?” You teased.
He inhaled, not taking the bait. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s cool getting to teach you all this, but you didn’t seem interesting in mechanics before now.”
“I-it’s nothing. Forget it.” Your cheeks warmed as his stare didn’t waver. “I just needed some air, okay?”
“Alright…”
“I didn’t expect you to get all touchy feely.” You stood.
“Hey! If you don’t want to talk, fine! Don’t talk.”
“Fine!” You snatched away the lube before he could reach for more. He gave you a disapproving glare, dropping his shoulders. “Sorry… I- sorry… here.” He reached out again. As an apology, you offered some explanation, “Charlie was just driving me crazy.”
“Charlie?” His voice colored with concern and surprise. “I thought you two were new BFFs?”
You shot him a brief look of judgment for his terminology. “‘BFFs’ really?”
“You know what I mean. I thought you liked each other.”
“I do. We do.” He stared at you. “I- She-” You took a deep breath. “Look, can we talk about something else?”
“Sure.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “C’mon, don’t look like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you don’t care, but you’re internally obsessively worrying…”
“I don’t” He planted his hands on the edge of the car bobbing his head as he strained to deny it with the appropriate amount of insult, “worry.”
“Oh please, all you do is worry.”
“Hey, don’t you turn this around on me. You’re the one with the problem.”
The argument halted so the two of you could trade stubborn glares. Finally, you turned on your heel with a huff. You strode to the counter nearby and lifted yourself onto it. Dean shifted back to his work, taking the time to clean off his tools. You watched him quietly as the minutes ticked by. Dean broke first, placing his hands on baby and letting out an irritated breath.
“Why don’t you go talk to Sam about…” He shook his head. “Whatever it is you don’t feel comfortable talking to me about.”
A blush slammed into your body with such ferocity you almost fell of the counter with dizziness. Your mouth opened and clapped shut even as your brain screamed at you to play it cool.
“I- that is- well- I-” Words leapt from your mouth with abandon. “You see-”
Dean’s brows screwed with confusion. Then, his face brightened with realization. His expression opened so clearly you could practically see his thoughts running across his brain like a jumbotron.
“No…” He said the word, but it conflicted with every inch of his demeanor. “You… Sam…?”
“Ah!” You leapt off the counter, but stopped in half sprint, body at war. “I- I mean… Sam what now?”
Dean stumbled back disbelieving. He stared into the space between you.
“You like my brother?”
Part 8 TBD
@agentmckenziecaptainamerica
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Go after what you want...and own who you are
Ya know, I've had this conversation a lot over the last few months. Like...a LOT. We live in a world where everything is expected and very little is earned. We also grow up in a world where being different and standing out is no longer geared towards personality and well being and moved souley toward image and perception. Lastly, were living in the day and age of the coward. Allow me to touch on all three topics: Expectation of mediocracy: Welcome to 2017. The day and age where the children of the first people who received participation trophies are starting to come through schools and such. The age where people expect to be able to just...get out of bed in the morning and have the world tell them how awesome they are and how amazing they are at everything they do. The age where a teacher gets scolded by a parent for a poor grade instead of the student getting told to do better by their parent because "My little genius johnny/Suzy is well better than this 65 you gave them..." guess what assbag, little johnny/Suzy doesn't do their homewok, skips class and is on their phone all damn day. They're lucky they pulled a 65. But your right...your delicate little flower isn't to blame here...I must suck at my job. (And I'm not even a teacher). We need to break this mold that simply waking up in the morning is enough. You're not special. You need to work to have things in life. And the world doesn't owe you a god damn thing. When you reward people for being average...average becomes the new standard of excellence. Im unique...just like everyone else: There was a point in our lives where everyone was just supposed to fit in. Be part of the crowd...then something amazing happened. We went through a social revolution where people wanted to stand out in a rebellion of excellence. People were told by the entire world to move and fall in line and they replied with "no, you move" or "there's a new line...and it starts right here". And somewhere along the line we went from standing out for who we were...to standing out for what we look like. We went from people who broke the mold and stood out for excellence...to people who stand out bc they have five colored neon hair, can fit a grapefruit through their earlobe and have their tongue split in two...why? Yeah you stand out but for what? What purpose does this serve? How does this make you better? And this comes from a (soon yo be much more heavily) tattooed man. Do yourselves a favor. If you want to stand out, do it by being standing for something, achieving something, or being someone. Not by looking like a comic book character because...well...for whatever reason you do that. 2017-the age of the coward. Listen...I could go on for ages about how we live in a world where we need safe spaces because words really do hurt and how we cry bc we don't get everything we want...but I'm trying to stay away from the political here. Really. I promise. No...I'm here to touch on a different topic. We as a people are afraid of everyday human interaction. 1st...we hide behind screens. Tv's computers and phones...were conditioned to hide behind them bc its easier to rattle off and email or send a text than it is to sit down face to face and settle differences or express feelings. 2nd...we so fear rejection bc rejection is not getting what you think you deservem that we enter our selves into these one sided pseudo relationships bc were afraid to ACTUALLY ask someone on a date bc they might say no. So instead...we say things like "hey...wanna go get lunch" and they like food so they say yes. 3 more times and were "seeing" them. A few more and in our brain were in some kind of relationship. Until we find out she's got a date. With her boyfriend. Of 6 months. Who isn't you. Bc the entire time we put stock in something we fabricated to be more than it was. All because we were to much a pussy to say "hey...wanna go on a date" and risk getting turned down. A few drunken fuckeries of a night and restraining order later were left wondering what the HELL just happened? Stop being afraid America. You want something? Work for it. You want to date a girl? ACTUALLY ASK HER OUT. Speaking of that....here's your bonus thought: when did asking someone on a date die? How did we go from "Will you go out with me" and "Will you go on a date with me" to "What up wanna hang out?" and "Netflix and chill"....? Seriously, where's the romance people? I feel like more couples guess at a day they got together bc it just kind of happens then they decide "well i guess we should put it on Facebook now"... Step up your game America.
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Text
Go after what you want...and own who you are
Ya know, I've had this conversation a lot over the last few months. Like...a LOT. We live in a world where everything is expected and very little is earned. We also grow up in a world where being different and standing out is no longer geared towards personality and well being and moved souley toward image and perception. Lastly, were living in the day and age of the coward. Allow me to touch on all three topics: Expectation of mediocracy: Welcome to 2017. The day and age where the children of the first people who received participation trophies are starting to come through schools and such. The age where people expect to be able to just...get out of bed in the morning and have the world tell them how awesome they are and how amazing they are at everything they do. The age where a teacher gets scolded by a parent for a poor grade instead of the student getting told to do better by their parent because "My little genius johnny/Suzy is well better than this 65 you gave them..." guess what assbag, little johnny/Suzy doesn't do their homewok, skips class and is on their phone all damn day. They're lucky they pulled a 65. But your right...your delicate little flower isn't to blame here...I must suck at my job. (And I'm not even a teacher). We need to break this mold that simply waking up in the morning is enough. You're not special. You need to work to have things in life. And the world doesn't owe you a god damn thing. When you reward people for being average...average becomes the new standard of excellence. Im unique...just like everyone else: There was a point in our lives where everyone was just supposed to fit in. Be part of the crowd...then something amazing happened. We went through a social revolution where people wanted to stand out in a rebellion of excellence. People were told by the entire world to move and fall in line and they replied with "no, you move" or "there's a new line...and it starts right here". And somewhere along the line we went from standing out for who we were...to standing out for what we look like. We went from people who broke the mold and stood out for excellence...to people who stand out bc they have five colored neon hair, can fit a grapefruit through their earlobe and have their tongue split in two...why? Yeah you stand out but for what? What purpose does this serve? How does this make you better? And this comes from a (soon yo be much more heavily) tattooed man. Do yourselves a favor. If you want to stand out, do it by being standing for something, achieving something, or being someone. Not by looking like a comic book character because...well...for whatever reason you do that. 2017-the age of the coward. Listen...I could go on for ages about how we live in a world where we need safe spaces because words really do hurt and how we cry bc we don't get everything we want...but I'm trying to stay away from the political here. Really. I promise. No...I'm here to touch on a different topic. We as a people are afraid of everyday human interaction. 1st...we hide behind screens. Tv's computers and phones...were conditioned to hide behind them bc its easier to rattle off and email or send a text than it is to sit down face to face and settle differences or express feelings. 2nd...we so fear rejection bc rejection is not getting what you think you deservem that we enter our selves into these one sided pseudo relationships bc were afraid to ACTUALLY ask someone on a date bc they might say no. So instead...we say things like "hey...wanna go get lunch" and they like food so they say yes. 3 more times and were "seeing" them. A few more and in our brain were in some kind of relationship. Until we find out she's got a date. With her boyfriend. Of 6 months. Who isn't you. Bc the entire time we put stock in something we fabricated to be more than it was. All because we were to much a pussy to say "hey...wanna go on a date" and risk getting turned down. A few drunken fuckeries of a night and restraining order later were left wondering what the HELL just happened? Stop being afraid America. You want something? Work for it. You want to date a girl? ACTUALLY ASK HER OUT. Speaking of that....here's your bonus thought: when did asking someone on a date die? How did we go from "Will you go out with me" and "Will you go on a date with me" to "What up wanna hang out?" and "Netflix and chill"....? Seriously, where's the romance people? I feel like more couples guess at a day they got together bc it just kind of happens then they decide "well i guess we should put it on Facebook now"... Step up your game America.
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