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Are you frustrated you can't leave second kudos on AO3? or third kudos? or whatever-who's-counting kudos?
Well, have I got the html for you!
Plop any of these in a comment (by copy&pasting the code) to make an author's day and show your appreciation!
Second kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/tHMjbb6/second-kudos.png" alt="second kudos">
Third kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/52bggQH/third-kudos.png" alt="third kudos">
nth kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/6y7qGtC/nth-kudos.png" alt="nth kudos">
yet another kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/wKtcj0s/yet-another-kudos.png" alt="yet another kudos">
It will look something like this (and will be transparent with white outline on dark backgrounds):
Feel free to spread and use these as much as you like! (and if you have ideas for other variations, let me know âď¸)
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girls who learned all their vocab from books and are now constantly embarrassing themselves by pronouncing words slightly wrong in conversation
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beautiful caffeine on an empty stomach I'm going to live forever
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Excerpt from my fic: "The Soul Burns Brighter Than The Sun" (on ao3)
Dean musters up the courage and finally opens his mouth, âWhat would it be like?â
Dean internally cringes at how choked up his voice sounds, but he asks it anyway because heâs a piece of shit who likes to have his cake and taste it without eating it at all. Heâs a coward, but heâs a coward who wishes he wasnât.
âWhat would what be like?â Cas asks.Â
âYou and me.â
Cas takes a second to respond, and Dean scrubs at the casserole dish with his sponge like heâs not waiting for world-shattering news.Â
âIt would be good.â Cas finally says, voice confident and scared at the same time. âIt would be right.â
âHow so?â Dean asks.Â
The sound of Casâs footsteps tell Dean that the angel is waking over, but slowly. So slowly like heâs worried heâll startle Dean into running away. They come to a halt just behind where Deanâs washing the dishes, elbows in the suds, fingers pruned from the water. He can feel the few feet of space between them like a physical ache.Â
âIt wouldnât be any different,â Cas says, like itâs the simplest thing in the world, to love. âThan how we are right now. Nothing would change.âÂ
âWhat the hell does that mean?â Dean whispers, his voice weak.Â
âIt meansâŚâ Cas starts. âIâd be there for you when you wake up, and Iâd be there for you during your nightmares, making sure that none dare to haunt you. Weâll go on hunts whenever you want and take care of them together. Weâll watch movies in your room or in the Dean Cave.â Dean hears the twitch in Casâs lips as they turn to a small smile. âMaybe even go for long walks on the beach.â
Dean snorts, but it comes out choked. He doesnât know what to say so he scrubs the casserole dish.Â
âIf nothing changed physically between us, Iâd be content. But Iâd love to kiss you when you asked me to, make love to you when you ask for it, andâ-â Casâs voice drops, but Dean knows itâs not for effect, itâs just the way the words leave Casâs mouth that make them darker. âFuck you when you need me to.â
Dean inhales sharply, and continues washing the dish heâs holding. âThatâs a lot, Cas.â
He hears a soft shifting of clothing, likely a shrug, something human that Cas has picked up from Dean. âI used to try not to⌠fantasize about things that could never happen, but Iâve realized it might be a lot closer than I think, and Iâd like to be prepared.â
âBuddy, itâs notââ
âIs it?â Cas says, and thereâs two more step falls and then heâs pressed along Deanâs back, not hard, just there. One of Casâs hands grips the counter withâ-what Dean thinksâ-is enough force to dent it, but his other hand is gentle against Deanâs hip.Â
Deanâs hands stutter over the dish, and he almost drops it. âItâs not happening man. IâIt canât.â
Cas hums, and Dean feels his breath ghost over his neck, feels the sound reverberate in Casâs chest against his back. âTell me to stop then.âÂ
Stop, Dean thinks. Donât stop. Never stop touching me. I canât take it when you leave.
âCasââ His hands shake, and he puts the dish down in the sink so he wonât break it. The glass clatters against the metal of the sink bottom and Dean raises his eyes to the ceiling. âWe canât.â
âGive me a reason.âÂ
âIt wouldnât work. We drive each other crazy, and I canâtâyou canât leave. I canât take it when you do.â
âThen I wonât leave.â
Dean wants to laugh. He feels six years old again, begging their dad to stay a little longer with them while Sammyâs sick, because Dean gets grossed out when he has to clean up his brotherâs puke.
Itâs time to grow up, Dean. John had said. You know why I need to go. Pick up the slack while Iâm gone.
He feels like his twenty-two year old self, seeing Samâs Stanford acceptance letter, knowing thereâs nothing he can do to make him stay. Watching John grow red, to blue, to purple in the face, screaming and yelling at Sammy. You walk out that door there, donât bother coming back.
At the time, Dean didnât know if he was gonna see Sam again, so he drove his kid brother to the bus station. Sam had always been the soft one, talking back and not following Johnâs orders, and Dean sat there in silence as Sam pretended he wasnât tearing up.Â
Dean had watched his little brother walk away, seeing the duffle bag filled with clothes and weapons and books that looked too heavy for him to carry. Sammy! Dean yelled.Â
Sam had turned, his eyes rimmed with red.Â
Dean charged him and wrapped him in a bear hug. Watch out for yourself, bitch.
Sam choked out a laugh, holding on tight, hands balled into fists against Deanâs back, holding him there like he didnât know if heâd ever get a hug like this again. Jerk.Â
Deanâs always had people leave him, and heâs always let them go.Â
âYou say that, Cas, but youâre always leaving.â Dean chokes. Cas is warm where heâs pressed against Deanâs back, and Dean canât help himself as he leans into the feeling.
Casâs thumb rubs against Deanâs hip, at the denim and flannel wrapped around his body. âYouâve never asked me to stay before.â
âI wanted toââ Dean rushes out like word vomit, like the truth heâs been meaning to say for years. âI shouldâve.âÂ
âAsk me then.âÂ
âNo, you asshole.â
âIâm not leaving, Dean, so long as you want me here.â
âIââ
But then Cas kisses his shoulder, and Deanâs whole body is lit on fire by the simple press of skin to the cotton of his flanneled shoulder.Â
âSo the first problem is negated, I wonât leave. Problem solved.â Cas continues their conversation like he never interrupted it by kissing Deanâs shoulder in the first place. In fact, Dean doesnât think heâs ever been kissed on his shoulder before. Before he can shove that thought away, his brain wraps its arms around the feeling of Cas behind him, his lips pressing to Deanâs clothed skin, and files it away for safekeeping. âWhat are the other reasons?âÂ
Dean knows there are more reasons, but goddamn he canât think of any. Cas is warm against his back, and Casâs chin rests on Deanâs shoulder, right over where he kissed it.Â
âUhm,â Deanâs brain helpfully supplies. Itâs too busy cradling itâs new favorite memory close to his chest. âYouâre a guy.âÂ
âHmm. How much of a problem is that?â
Not very much, Deanâs dick supplies. Dean tells his dick to shut up.Â
âItâs a problem.â Is what he says instead.Â
Cas doesnât miss a beat though. âI could be in a female vessel if you prefer, although Iâve grown so fond of this one. It feels more like my body than anything else has.â
And that breaks Deanâs heart because Cas has lived through millennia, seen continents move and civilizations come and go, but this body, the one that Dean stabbed when they first met, is the one that Cas feels at home in.Â
âNo.â Dean interjects. âI donât want you to have a different vessel.â
Cas presses his lips to Deanâs shoulder again, not a kiss though, this time, Dean feels Casâs lips spread into a shy smile. âSo how much of a problem is it, then?â
âItâsâitâs not.â
Cas hums, and the hand resting against Deanâs hip skates upward and under Deanâs shirt, just touching the warm skin there, like Cas is stealing whatever he can get away with. âAlright, so what else?â
Deanâs brain grasps at straws. He had a list. Where the hell is it?
âWe drive each other crazy.â Dean blurts out. âAnd you listen to shitty music.â
âAh, right. You did mention that we drive each other crazy.â Cas murmurs, and he leans forward so that his lips whisper against Deanâs ear, and goosebumps spread along Deanâs skin. âThink about how that would translate into sex, then.â
Dean swallows.Â
âAs for the music.â Cas continues. âI think I can come up with ways to make it up to you.â
And then Cas fucking kisses his neck, right below Deanâs ear, on his pulse point like a bullseye. Like maybe Cas was scouting that spot out for a while. Like maybe Cas fantasized about doing exactly that. Like maybe Dean kinda wanted him to do it too, because Deanâs lit up from head to toe like a fucking teenager from one little kiss on the neck from his best friend.Â
Dean audibly gasps, and he feels Cas smile against his neck. Casâs hand presses more firmly against Deanâs ribs, the very ribs Cas rebuilt and then carved sigils into.Â
âDonât think that I didnât noticeââ Cas says huskily. âThat not one of your reasons was that you donât return my feelings.âÂ
Casâs hand leaves his skin, and thereâs a shocking wash of cold, as if somebodyâs dumped an ice bucket on his back once Cas steps away from him and walks out of the kitchen.Â
Dean stands there for five whole minutes, his heart racing and breathing hard until he calms down enough to close his eyes and relax. He picks up the casserole dish and finishes washing it.Â
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reblogging to save it, hope thatâs ok
where there is darkness: chapter 21&22
pairing: dean/cas tags: historical au, angst with a happy ending, slow burn, h/c
Preview:
Dean comes back to the lighthouse with a spinning head and a heavy heart. He ignores Samâs pestering questions as soon as he walks in the door; the What happened and Was it Cas? and Are you seriously drunk, Dean? that Sam volleys, one after the other. He falls into bed, face pressed into the pillow, knowing that heâs making Sam do all the night shifts, but he doesnât care. He canât find it in him to care.Â
As Dean closes his eyes, Casâs bunk, empty above him, howls like a hungry thing.Â
Pathetic, Johnâs voice whispers in his ear, like pattering rain on the back of a nightmare. Just like youâve always been.
read on ao3
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(context, i became a girlfriend yesterday)
my boyfriend called me his angel and i melted into a puddle
Anyway if you see this you have to reblog and tag with a delight from ur day -- even the littlest thing counts
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Hey, could you do me a favor?
Could you just RB this?
The little RB statistics chart is so pleasant and stimmy to look at and I want to see what it looks like when it gets really REALLY huge because it makes me think of some deep sea lifeform
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âao3 should have an algorithmâ ao3 should continue only giving me exactly what I ask for which happens because I know how to use the search, sort, and filter functions
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I AM DEMON, I EAT HAND NOW

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âIf 7+7 is 14 then 7+8 is 15, so then the 20 plus the 40 is 60 so the answer is 75 cause you have to add the 15â
lmao my brain is fucked

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Art by the brilliant Reapersun. Cosplay by me.
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time to go to bed
the-jewellers-hands: could you please draw Sherlock pinning Johnâs hands against a wall above him and kissing him? :D
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I honestly donât understand why people would be acephobic! I absolutely support <3
Reblog if you genuinely support asexuals
It terrifies me that thereâs so much raging passion in the lgbt+ community that insist on marginalizing asexuals and implying that asexuals donât deserve to have safe spaces. Thereâs still so much acephobia so I just wanna know which blogs are genuinely supportive and a safe space for asexuals
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Winter cause you can bundle up and be warm, with summer you cannot escape heat unless you unzip your skin XD
Summer or winter?
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âThe tragedy of the maniacal strangerâ hmm

âThe Tragedy of the Abominable Writerâ
Sounds like my biography lmfao
tagging some people because iâm bored: @glass-rose-paperweight @anotherteenageroninternet @serpant-of-heaven @just-a-donut-who-reads @satandrankmy-coffee @helloliriels and anyone else who wants to do it
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maybe would you do a rendition of what makes you beautiful by one direction? Idk it sounds like it would be good
1500 Follower Give-Away
Wahoo! In gratitude for reaching this milestone, I'm giving away a ficlet or filk to one lucky winner.
Simply reblog and/or reply to this post with the title of a children's story or song you'd like me to rewrite.
To see what I've already done, you can check out my Children's Classics with a Johnlock Twist and The Ballads of John and Sherlock.
Tags under the cut.
Please let me know if youâd like me to tag or untag you.
@alexxphoenix42 @daisyfairy1 @elwinglyre @fellshish @jobooksncoffee @enterthetadpole @bluebellofbakerstreet @imnova @shelleysprometheus @peanitbear @chained-to-the-mirror @kittenmadnessandtea @sgam76 @totallysilvergirl @ithinkthereforiamfandom @iamjustreading @helloliriels @barbsiebabe @iamjohnlocked4life @sarahthecoat @221bsweetheart @221b-hound @atlinmerrick @221b-ficrec-ed @bakingsherlycakes @crookshanks-caught-the-niffler @lijahlover @inevitably-johnlocked @chinike @lavenderandvanilla @reveling-in-mayhem @missdeliadili @morgendaemmerung89 @missmuffin221 @myladylyssa @podfixx @hushwatson @iwantthatbelstaffanditsoccupant @almosttomorocco @whodwantmeasaflatmate @nottoolateforthegameâ @sherlockedcarmillaâ @hpswl-cumbercookieâ @shiplocks-of-loveâ @sherlockwatson-holmesblogâ
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