#there! now i don’t have to worry about your url changing lol

[tittyblade]

tumblr etiquette 101

a list that is nowhere near exhaustive, from yours truly.

First off, welcome! Whether you’re a twitter veteran looking for anything but whatever twitter is, or a new user just done signing up, glad to see you in our ranks beloveds! Welcome home. Refer to this quick tour to make sure your fandom experience (or tumblr experience in general) is a positive one!

Disclaimer: I know it’s long, but please try to read or skim through til the end if you’re new here! This is by no means meant to be a rule book (for the most part lol), only a guide to help you get settled easier!

1) Your blog

This is where people will see and interact with you, so put some effort into it!

Try to choose a name (url) that’s simple. You can see it as your brand, it’s how people will perceive you and remember you. If you’d like to interact with other users here (and not use the site just for the content) it’s better to have something short and sweet, preferably without spaces. (Of course, these are only suggestions.) Rest assured, you can change it literally any time you want.

Have a theme. Utilize the tool that lets you edit your blog’s color or the font of your bio! You can make it match your profile picture, or your blog if it has a theme of its own. Make it feel homey :]

Fill in your bio. People will be checking out your profile probably more often than you think. Don’t leave it empty! Put in any information you’re comfortable with sharing and isn’t too personal (like your age if you’re a minor, or other TMI that can be found on other people’s carrds). It’s always better to add a name/nickname people can use to refer to you by, but feel free to use your blog description to shitpost still.

You can have an intro post. More often than not, you’ll see a blog have a pinned post, a post permanently appearing at the top of a blog until you pin another post or unpin it. You can make one of those, if you’d like to introduce yourself in more length, link any other socials or a carrd, and show others visiting your blog how you tag things so it’ll be easy for them to navigate. Not an obligation.

Keep your anonymity and your safety. It should go without saying, but there’s no harm in repeating it just in case. Your comfort, privacy and safety has the utmost importance. Don’t share any information you don’t want to. Don’t share your age if you’re a minor, or any other incredibly personal info. I’d encourage you to go by a nickname that’s not your real name, (blog name, your brand, remember?) since there’s safety in anonymity, and that’s lowkey one of the big deals of tumblr, but that’s up to you still.

Choose what you want to be visible. Your liked posts and who you follow are all things you can set to keep to yourself and hide from the publics eye, how handy! You should go through all the setting while you’re at it, set it to your comfort.

Side blogs are a thing. You can have multiple blogs that you can use for different things (see: different fandoms, art blog, etc) to keep them organized or away from your followers. Just remember that the replies and off-anon asks you send will be from your main blog, as well as where you follow other blogs from.

2) Interacting with others

You’ve set up your account, now comes the fun part!

Follow to your heart’s desire. If you care about others seeing who you follow, fear not! In tumblr, usually only two types of blogs keep their following visible to others: newbies, and big blogs using it to point people on other good blogs’ direction. Just turn it off, and go ham following people.

Customize your dashboard. Gonna mention just two things here: this is another reason why it’s really important that you follow blogs without sparing, your dash will collect dust otherwise; and you should turn off “best stuff first” in your dashboard settings, to have a better community here and all.

Follow tags. You can set it in your settings that posts with your followed tags appear on your dashboard.

You can check the og post for edits and context. When you see a reblogged post you don’t understand the context of (or don’t recognize the character in case of fanarts), click on the profile so it will take you to the original post. From there you can check the original poster’s tags to get the context, or see if there have been any edits made to the post, since when you edit a post it doesn’t update any past reblogs.

Send people asks... This is how you make mutuals, people! Do it off-anon if you’d like them to know your blog, or anon if you’d rather not! (You can still end your messages with a signature to show you’re the same person, -[name] is one example.) Send them nice messages, ask their opinion on something, discuss things, or just straight up shitpost lol. Go wild. The sky’s your limit and it’s definitely more than 280 characters.

...and let them ask you! You can set your preference in the settings, do it on desktop tumblr to access more settings tho! What you can customize on mobile is limited (like letting people ask you things anonymously, that’s only on desktop settings). In my personal opinion, it’s always better to tag their username (or a nickname you give them, if they’re a friend) on that post, since you wouldn’t want your interactions with your friends to get buried in your blog forever.

Comment on posts. If you have something to say but don’t want the post to appear on your blog you can add a comment. The owner of the post will get a notif for it, but for anyone else you need to tag them.

For the love of god, reblog. People will only see your liked posts if you have it visible to public and they specifically go on your blog to look at them. You like something? You reblog. It’s already hard for posts to circulate properly, if you don’t reblog them literally no one will see them. If not for anything do it for the artists. Just hold and drag on mobile to fast rb.

3) Your Posts

Finally here! Don’t be a lurker, post and engage!

Make use of “read more”. If your post is long, add it. That’s what you clicked on earlier to expand this post. On desktop leave an empty line and you’ll see three dots appear, and on mobile type :readmore: on that empty line.

Draft a post to come back to it later. Pretty self explanatory.

Queue your post. Whether it’s your own post or you’re reblogging, make use of the queue feature to a) not spam reblog and fill up the dashboard of people following you and b) keep your blog active while you’re gone. Mess around in the settings, it’s fairly easy to set up.

Schedule your post. Same as queueing, the only difference is you get to choose the exact time your post will go up. Handy if you want to schedule a post for certain dates like april fools, or 5 years in the future for some reason. 

Format your texts. You can do all kinds of fancy stuff here (that’s a link, try pressing on it). Twitter doesn’t have this, make use of it. Changes depending on whether you’re on mobile or desktop. (Desktop has less features.)

Check your stats. If you’re trying to understand the algorithm better or want to look at some pretty graphs you can get your data on that on desktop tumblr.

@ people in comments. You’ll get all the notifs when people comment on your posts but they won’t see your reply unless you tag them in your message.

4) Tags, and tagging a post

This is where my earlier statement “this isn’t a rule book” stops being applicable. It’s not a war crime to go against these, I won’t come chasing you (don’t take my word for this) but you’ll work up a bad rep. Just saying lol.

Do NOT crosstag posts. It’s really tempting to add unrelated tags to increase your posts’ interaction, I know, but that’s not what tumblr is about. Don’t be a dick and make other communities’ experience worse for them.

Always tag your posts with “crit/critical/discourse/etc” if it calls for it. There’s no exceptions to it. This is the reason you see people migrating to tumblr. Let people enjoy things.

Don’t main tag a critical/negative post. If your crit post is about “Thing”, you add the “Thing critical” tag, but not the “Thing” tag. People block crit tags if they don’t want to see it, don’t shove it in their faces by main tagging it. 

If you don’t want to see something, just block it. Another reason why people are able to survive on tumblr. You don’t start discourse, you don’t make call-outs, you block. You can find something for every community you can think of if you go looking for it. The worst of the worst probably won’t ever appear on your dash, but if you’re worried or feel the need for it, you know where the block button is.

Feel free to shitpost or ramble. More often than not you’ll see people rb a post with a comment, and their elaboration will be in the tags. The tags are only visible on your profile and the notifications of the owner of the og blog. Just a thing people do.

Reblog artists’ posts with nice comments in the tags! Commenting on a drawing is usually done through the tags (Not an obligation, again, just a thing people do. Feel free to add your comment on the rb itself if you’d want other people to see it tho!) and leave nice messages for the artists! It’s a win-win for everyone involved. 

If you have more than a single follower, always use the common tw warning tags. You don’t need to tw everything, but tw’ing some common things is the bare minimum human decency. Keep it safe for others. 

Tag a post “long post” if it’s really long. Pretty self explanatory. Don’t make people scroll through all that please lol. 

You can use them to organize your blog. This is more of a pro tip, if you’d like to not miss a post in your blog, cause they will start pilin’ up soon enough.

#Liveblogging is pretty fun. If you’d like to talk to people during streams, don’t forget to add the relevant tags still! Again, you won’t show up on people’s dash otherwise.

Whew! That got out of hand. Hopefully I didn’t bore you too much. Check out blogs like @heritageposts and @hellsite-hall-of-fame to honor our past o7. @mcytblr-hall-of-fame too maybe :eyes:. Anyways, don’t forget the most important rule of them all:

Enjoy your stay! You’re meant to have fun on here while also making friends (if that’s your thing). Just be kind and respectful of others, you’ll get the hang of the rest! <3

[zukuist]

long distance [hcs]

“you’re travelling for a internship, needing to leave the prefecture for 3 weeks— so now what, now that you’re gone?”

includes: shinsou hitoshi, midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki

your name is shortened to y/n, gn reader

notes: so.. i changed my url :)) i decided to change it early on my tumblr experience. i was gonna do shouto and kirishima but.. yeah, will add that in another post.

—

shinsou hitoshi

at first, he was like “oh ok.” because he thought that you were just leaving for a few days

but nooo, you had to leave the area for 3 entire weeks.

21 entire days

:(

really bummed about that. what’s he supposed to look forward to after school?

since y’all usually hangout after school, he needs to change that since you’re not there.

the entire vibe is different. regardless if you’re upbeat or calm around him— it doesn’t feel complete

on the brighter note, whenever he passes by a cat, he sends a bunch of pictures of them.

it’s even at the most random times of the day, and you still manage to open them and comment on them every single time he sends one

he questions what you’re doing if the timezones are very different, but you never give him concrete answers

he also ends up staring at pictures of you, trying to recall what being with you’s like.

calls are very frequent and random, and they last for hours

he looks forward to just picking up his phone and calling your number as soon as he’s free

even if he’s nocturnal, and even if you beg him to sleep.

he’ll complain about the fact that you have to be gone for sooo long,

but you only smile sadly— telling him you’ll see him soon.

not one to meet you at the airport/trainstation, but as soon as you tell him you’re back

he’s asking for your location :)

then he’s dragging you back to his place, hands enlaced in yours as he puts you in one of his hoodies,

cuddling you, as he takes in your scent, missing you as a whole.

bonus : you gave him cat souvenirs, almost as a “im sorry for being away for too long”

midoriya izuku

stays wide awake the day before you leave

he’s just unable to rest, knowing you’ll be miles away from him— for 3 long weeks

at first, he’ll just drown himself in practice and training,

because he knows it’s not good to be worrying about you too much, that’ll look a little excessive

but he finds himself thinking about you the majority of the day, glancing at the clock very often— as he can’t wait to tell you about his day

he’ll send you a message every hour, just to see if you’re okay, because you could be in danger rn and he wouldn’t know

and he’ll ask you how the place is, how the weather is like— and if you’re having difficulty in sleeping due to the timezone differences

(if it’s really different)

he thinks to himself out loud more

whenever he sees something— he’ll comment out loud like “hm, i wonder what y/n thinks about this.. i should tell them later!”

lots of video calls. and most of the time, y’all accidentally leave the call on—

leaving inko to find his son still calling his s/o at 12 in the morning (don’t ask why she’s awake at that time LMAO)

the calls are either him going on a word dump, desperate to talk to you

or it’s just him staring at you through the screen— missing you dearly.

he’s almost complaining lol

will offer to pick you up at the airport/train station because he wants to,

eagerly walking towards the station/port, excited to see you finally. oh, and he’ll also offer to carry your bags.

he’ll also be holding a stuffed animal with flowers in his hand, eyes lighting up at the sight of you

because he wants you to take the stuffed animal with him the next time you travel far away

bonus : he keeps the souveniers you gifted him somewhere special, kept away from danger

bakugou katsuki

his first reaction to you needing to leave the area is “okay, and?? what’d you want me to say?”

until he finds out it’s for 3 weeks, 21 days.

he hates it already, and he’ll be kinda mad at you— like.. why’d you need to leave for that long?

katsuki looks fine on the outside, acting pretty normal for bakugou katsuki.

however, he finds himself staring at your empty spot almost every hour

he hates being annoyed, but not if it’s you :(

this mf is never the texting or calling type of person— but because you’re so far away from him >:T

he’ll call you 2 hours before his appointed bed time, disappearing into his room and locking it— just so he can hear your voice

he’ll openly complain “why is the day going so slow? and why do you even need to stay there for that long, idiot.”

then he’ll proceed to request a video call, wanting to see your face. even just a quick look

he’ll probably admit it at some point, but baku will hint to you that he misses you

“it’s not the same without your dumbass here. i don’t know. there’s somethin’ missing here damnit.”

as your arrival back home approaches..

he goes quiet, his mind running wild on what he wants to do as soon as you get back

will surprise you at the airport/train station. because who warns people now these days? tch.

will probably give you a minute headsup— before he appears right infront of you, demanding for you bags

then midway the walk back, he’ll kiss the crown of your head— because he just couldn’t contain yourself

then he’s throwing you on his bed, and trapping you in his arms. grumbling that you shouldn’t leave for that long again.

bonus : will totally act like he didn’t miss you at all the next day. you’ll be like 🤨 uh.. okay

—

©️ izukulie 2021, bnha|mha belongs to horikoshi kohei. do not steal ❕

[yoonjinkooked]

Chemistry | JHS (6 (pt 1))

Part 6 - Just Do It

(pls ignore my old URL, i’m too lazy to change it now RIP)

DRABBLE SERIES, TONS OF SHORT LITTLE CHAPTERS.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: FWB, university AU, smut

Warnings: blonde Hobi (yes, that’s a dang warning), heaps of dirty talk, public groping, lots of sex discussion, them being responsible adults and getting tested before doing it, cursing, drinking. It ends on a bit of a cliff hanger cause this is just an intro of the smut fest that the next chapter will be Also, IMPORTANT: the ‘Spring Cleaning’ party that I am describing is fictional (that I know of at least) and I BEG OF YOU, please don’t mix your drinks. Just don’t. It won’t end well. Don’t mix drinks, don’t drink and drive, don’t drink what a random person gives you and never ever ever leave sight of your glass. Please. Drink responsibly and stay the f away from it if you are underaged. That also means you need to stay the f away from this story, too 💜

Word Count: 3k

Summary: After a few years of being immune to Jung Hoseok’s charms, you suddenly fall into them, head first. All it takes is one night, too much alcohol and a lot of balls.

A/N: Again, DRINK RESPONSIBLY! The smut fest part 2 is coming super fast (no pun intended). Unedited, so please forgive me, I needed to get this shit out to you and i just need more Hobi. these are drabbles after all lol

“I’m clean,” Hoseok informs you with the widest grin possible. “Got the results emailed this morning. 100% clean and ready.” 

 You don’t register his words at all - first of all, he had startled you, appearing directly in front of your path, probably seeing you from afar, making your way to the study hall where the first class of your day takes place. And on top of that, you are way too shocked with his appearance to even bother understanding the words he was telling you. 

 “You’re… you’re blonde,” you mumble as you stare at his hair, wondering if it’s your mind playing tricks on you. Sunlight makes hair lighter, doesn’t it? It doesn’t make it almost platinum, though. Looking him over, you realize that nothing else has changed - still the same height, still the same weight, still his signature casual but colorful clothing - but the blonde is there and it’s magnetic - it’s impossible to look at anything else before your eyes are glued to his new hairstyle again. It suits him so damn well. If someone had told you he’d look this good blonde, you wouldn’t have believed them. 

 “Oh, yeah,” he waves his hand off, laughing, as if it’s a completely irrelevant thing. Honestly, to him it might be, but not to you. “More importantly, I am clean,” he repeats his earlier words and this time around, you do get to properly register them, as well as the meaning behind them. Clean. Safe to have sex. No worries in that department. You should be overjoyed but not only are you still hypnotized by his sudden change of looks, you’re also refusing to focus on that particular information. 

 It’s weird - you did stuff, discussed even more, agreed on everything. You blushing at him informing you that it’s finally safe for him to fuck you and finish inside you is weird. 

 “You’re blonde,” is all you can say, and it earns you an eye roll from Hoseok. 

 “Oh come on Y/N,” he whines. “If you’re going to be like this just take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

 “Hey!” you snap, smacking him on the shoulder in retaliation, which only makes him laugh. “Have mercy on me here, give me a moment to get used to this new look of yours. If I showed up with a completely different hair color, would you be able to focus on anything else?” you demand, absolutely positive that he’d be equally as lost as you are. 

 “If you telling me that you’re clean and we can finally fuck, yeah, I wouldn’t be focusing on hair, even if it had all the colors of the rainbow in it,” he answers honestly. 

 “Okay, okay, we get it, we’re on the same page - you’re stupidly hot, clean and want to fuck,” you laugh at him, although you would be a fool to deny that it’s getting to you - the way he is so upfront about liking you and being attracted to you is impossible to ignore - it makes you feel a lot more confident than you have felt in a long while. 

 “Oh Y/N, you know me so well,” he acts as if he’s genuinely touched and it’s this reaction that makes you melt and laugh. No matter the hair color, no matter how casual he references his intention to get his dick inside you, it’s Hoseok. And that’s all that matters. “Seriously though, we both have our results so whenever you’re ready, if you’re still up for it…” he doesn’t finish the sentence but the raise of his eyebrow says it all. 

 “I’m not missing out on that piece of ass if that’s what concerns you,” you joke, looking him up and down as you speak. It’ll never cease to amaze you how he can whisper the dirtiest things to you, or even say them casually out loud, but turn as red as a tomato when you do the same thing. “What are you doing tonight, do you have any plans?” you ask. 

 “Aren’t you going to Namjoon’s?” he frowns in confusion. “Spring Cleaning party season?” he reminds you and starts laughing immediately, probably at your look of realization mixed in with disgust. “Is this about Namjoon or about the Spring Cleaning party season?” he laughs. 

 What you guys refer to as spring cleaning is exactly what it sounds like - all the leftover alcohol that somehow managed to survive the past year is gathered in one place in the ‘bring-your-own-booze’ manner. It’s usually a mixture of hideous drinks and half empty bottles and once it’s all gathered, you make it even worse, combining it into borderline poisonous mixtures. Everyone attending and everyone drinking does so on their own responsibility, fully aware of how the night might end. 

 A year ago, it was still fun. Now, you know you’re too old for that shit. 

 “It’s about both,” you answer Hobi’s question in a whine. “I don’t wanna deal with wasted frat boys who’ll spend half the night throwing up and Namjoon is insufferable.” 

 “Namjoon is one of your best friends,” Hobi laughs. 

 “I know - that’s why I’m well aware of how insufferable he is,” you grunt in annoyance. “I know it’s tradition and all but can we skip all of that? Coochie in exchange for avoiding a party we’re too old for anyways?” you suggest. 

 “Wait,” Hoseok’s eyes widen and you can imagine a lightbulb turning on above his head. “You think Namjoon’s insufferable?” 

 “Incredibly so, yes.” 

 “And you want to make his life a living hell in retaliation?” he continues asking. 

 “Absolutely,” you reply in a heartbeat, despite loving Namjoon like he was your family. You adore him but you cannot stand him at times and ever since this little thing with Hoseok had started, he had not stopped teasing you. It’s time for him to suffer. 

 “Hear me out,” Hoseok moves closer to you, as if he is about to share a conspiracy theory that no one except you is allowed to know about. “How about we go to the party and stay there a bit - laugh at the idiots, dance to bad music - just a regular Thursday. And then, when the shitshow starts, and it will start, we go upstairs and seal the deal?” 

 “You want us to fuck in Namjoon’s house?” you start laughing. 

 “Is there anything that would annoy and traumatize him more than knowing two of his closest friends fucked in his house?” he points out. 

 “Yeah, if he walks in,” you burst out laughing. “Honestly, sold. Fuck it.” 

 “I plan to,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you in the most sleazy manner possible - jokingly, of course. He knows he has you hooked and he can play around with it. And you’ll love it. 

 “Ugh, stop doing that,” you laugh, smacking him on the shoulder again. “Don't try too hard, you already have me, blondie.” 

 “I look that good, huh?” he laughs, hitting the bullseye. 

 You don’t answer that question - you offer him nothing more than a smile and a shrug before you slowly walk past him and make your way to a class you’re probably already late for. He knows you enough to realize that to you, yes, he does look that good. And you cannot wait to find out what other things he can do to you, hoping that the movie is as promising as the trailer was. 

  Standing across the room, Hoseok keeps his eyes glued to you, the same way he did from the moment you entered the house. You aren’t hiding from it either - you make direct eye contact with him, smiling in a knowing manner as you listen to whatever it is that Taehyung was yapping on about. You tried to listen - you really did, at first. But the problem is that Hoseok’s very presence demands your attention - it’s something you can’t control. If he’s around, if he’s in the room and if you have this feeling of the two of you alone knowing something, knowing this secret about what’s going to happen tonight - no one else stands a chance, not even your friends.

 “Are you seriously ogling Hoseok while I’m asking you for relationship advice?” Taehyung sounds exasperated and you feel guilty - even more so when you realize that the only reason he did manage to get your attention was because he had mentioned his name. 

 “Ugh, I’m so sorry Tae,” you don’t try to defend yourself, knowing you’re guilty as charged. “My mind is a mess, I’m a useless friend. I just… can’t focus on anything else,” you admit sheepishly, not really wanting to go into details. They know that something is happening and that’s it. You don’t want to share more, neither does Hoseok, nor do you think any of your friends is particularly thirsty for details. Except perhaps Jimin, but tough luck for him. 

 “Then go!” Tae urges you and for a moment, you think that he is angry at you - the urgency with which he said it makes you wonder if he’s pissed with you for not listening to him carefully - but when you look up at him, you see his signature smile. He’s not angry - he’s cheering you on. “Go and get your guy!” 

 You want to  sigh, roll your eyes and remind him that Hoseok is not your guy - but in a weird, fucked up way that only you and him understand, he kind of is. It’s you he’s looking at - not any other girl, and there are plenty. It’s you he’s had his eyes on ever since he first saw you - it’s you he’s waiting for. 

 So you go for it - the same way you did the night it all started. Without thinking twice about it, you approach him, walking through a crowd of people to get to him - his eyes follow you every step of the way, standing straighter as you finally get to him, mere inches separating the two of you. 

 It’s electric. The feeling between the two of you, it’s purely electric, making you wonder if he’d burn to the touch if you were to reach out. In your mind, he always was the epitome of the Sun, so it wouldn’t be no surprise. You notice his smile despite not breaking eye contact - he smiles at you with them too, the signature wrinkles appearing on the edges. 

 “Well, don’t you look lovely tonight,” he tells you, giving you a quick once over. “Black has always suited you.” 

 “Now’s the time when I say something quirky yet charming like, ‘it matches my soul’,” you joke, laughing along with him. “Thank you - I had to dress in my finest, seeing as it’s a special occasion after all.” 

 “Is it?” he laughs. “I thought it was just a Spring Cleaning party.” 

 “Hoseok…” you shoot him a warning glare. 

 “I’m just messing with you,” he laughs, pointing out the obvious. “Can I… kiss you?” 

 This question takes you by surprise - you have decided to be public with whatever the hell this thing is - simply to avoid confusion, especially since you’ve agreed that you won’t be sleeping with other people while this deal of yours is standing. It’s a nice surprise, though - the fact that he still wants to ask, the fact that he is making sure that you are comfortable with it - whether it’s with the kiss itself or it being in public. It warms your heart to know that even though you had never planned any of this with him, he ended up being the right choice. 

 “Hobi, honestly, we’re past the point where you need to ask,” you admit, wanting him to know that you’re not going to back out and that you do feel comfortable. 

 He says nothing, instead deciding to kiss you immediately. It’s slow and gentle, lazy and languid, in a way that shows no rush or urgency. It’s obvious that he is enjoying it, and so are you, every move of his tongue against yours, every breath of yours that mingles with his. To the two of you, the rest of the room no longer exists - the sounds toned out, the people long forgotten. It’s almost as if it’s you and you alone - and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. You move your body closer to his, anchoring your hands around his neck as you press against his front - as you have found out, making out with Hoseok has plenty of merits, and one of the bigger ones is simply the feel of his body against yours. 

 His hands wander, slowly and likely aware of the audience around you - it’s highly unlikely that anyone spared you more than a glance, but despite what it feels like in your mind, you are definitely not alone. So when his fingers graze your ass, he doesn’t grab it firmly like you know he’d like to - he simply rests his hand there, with pressure that promises that there’s more in his mind than a simple touch. You know very well that if the two of you don’t slow down soon, he’ll pop a boner in the middle of Namjoon’s kitchen and even though you’re hardly keeping this a secret, that would likely be a bit too much for him to handle. 

 With your mind heading in that direction, you begrudgingly stop the kiss, but you don’t move too far away from him - your hands still around his neck and his hands still on your ass. For what seems like minutes, neither of you says a word, simply looking at each other, your eyes scanning the face of the other - the way his lips are wet and how he nervously licks at them, the way his cheeks also changed shades (and you know alcohol is not to blame for it) and the glint in his eye that likely mirrors yours, with both of you knowing what’s in the other one’s head. Tonight is the night, the night you will finally seal the deal. 

 And if all goes well, start something that will make you explore things and areas you dared not speak of, much less try them before. All of it, from the sweetest and most romantic to the nastiest, kinkiest shit imaginable - you want to do it all with him and it’ll start tonight. 

 “So...” You start, in what you hope is a sexy voice. “Are we going to go and piss Joon off by fucking in his house?” you ask, making sure that the sexy voice you’re trying to use is also low enough for no one else but him to hear. You take it a step further, pressing your lips to his ear, whispering. “I want to suck you off before I ride you until I can no longer hold myself up. Then, I want you to fuck into me with all that strength you have and fill me up, watch the cum drip out of me and then watch me finger it back inside my cunt.” 

 Pulling away just in time to see him swallow a lump, you move one of your hands from around his neck, down his chest and stomach, very slowly, before grazing it over his already noticeable growing dick - you don’t tease him more than that, knowing that even though you might not feel them, you likely do have eyes on you by now - you simple careers the area where his jeans are starting to stand out, a sign of his eagerness that completely mirrors the way your underwear is sticking to your core. Both of you are horny as all hell and if you don’t act on it soon, you’ll jump his bones right here, right now, on Joon’s kitchen sink. 

 “How ‘bout I use my fingers to push the cum back inside you and when it dribbles out again, I eat you out until you want to scream my name but you can’t, ‘cause you’re sucking on my fingers, licking every drip of cum left on them?” he suggests and you for a second, you think your knees are going to give out and you’ll fall flat. You don’t, likely because he still has his hands pressed to your backside. 

 “Oh, I’d want nothing more,” you shamelessly admit. 

 “Then we’re not doing it here,” he announces, laughing at the immediate sulky reaction it elicited from you. “Don’t be like that, it’s better if we go to my place,” he chuckles at you, gently squeezing your butt. “I want us to enjoy the night, go for as many rounds as our bodies can take and then do it again in the morning. We can’t have that here while some freshman is doing a keg stand and anyone can walk in on us at any second. We can piss Joon off later - but it’s the first time we’re gonna do it and damn it, I wanna do it right.” 

 “You wanna do it right?” your eyebrows rise. 

“I could stand here all night and list all the things that I want to do to you, and you to me, and still remember more on the way home - and we’ve already discussed a bunch. I want to treat you good and give you the best fuck of your life - I promised as much and I want to deliver. We can fuck in Joon’s house any other day, honestly.” 

 “Do you want to… use something tonight?” you ask, pressing your hand against his crotch a little bit harder this time. “I have some toys back at my place but we won’t be alone there.” 

 “Nah,” he shakes his head immediately. “I have my cock, mouth and fingers - I don’t need much else to make you want to never do anyone else. We’ll have plenty of time for all the toys - and when I say all, I mean all. I’d go for anything with you.” 

 “If you keep talking like that, I’m just going to cum right here, right now,” you admit. 

 “While that would be a sight for sore eyes, I have other plans. Let’s go,” he takes you by the hand and away you go, making your way through the crowd, not caring if anyone notices how quickly you’re leaving or how you’re walking hand in hand. 

 You simply don’t give a shit, at all. All you care about is Hoseok right now - his dick, mouth and fingers and all the things he plans to do with them. 

[bibbawrites]

I Want Your Midnights - Owen Joyner x Female Reader (SMUT - 18+)

Request: NONE 

Word Count: 2568 words

Summary: You bring your boyfriend Owen home for your family New Years party, which ends with you getting a little more than a New Years kiss 

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, oral s*x (both male and female receiving), squirting, slight overstimulation 

A/N: this is literally just 2.5k words of self indulgent babble lol so this idea came into my mind and I couldn’t get it out, i know i should be working on requests but i just had to write this, sorry!  as i said, this is very self indulgent, the way new years is described is exactly how my family and our neighbours (who are close friends at this point lol) celebrate each year so i couldn’t help myself  sorry for any typos, its 4am lol  hope you enjoy it! 

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added, removed or if you change your url): @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ @littlemissaddict @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @headheartbellarke @lovesanimals​ 

Every single year your family celebrated New Years Eve exactly the same way. 

Your neighbours across the road would set up a table and chairs on their driveway, and your family and your next door neighbours would head across the road for a barbeque and drinks under the stars, with the Christmas lights that covered the three houses shining in the darkness. 

And then after food the kids would always head inside to play a board game or battle it out on Just Dance, only stopping at midnight to watch the New Years fireworks go off and to run around with sparklers. 

That’s how New Years had been for as long as you could remember. Only this year, things were going to be slightly different. 

You were bringing Owen, your boyfriend of just over a year. You had celebrated New Years apart the year before, opting for a text to wish each other happy new year instead. 

But you’d been dating for over a year now, and you couldn’t wait for Owen to meet your friends and family, and have the chance to ring in the new year together. 

Owen pulled his truck into your parent’s driveway, parking before turning to you, his eyes full of anxiety. 

“You’ll be fine, they’re all gonna love you.” You assured him, grabbing onto his hand. He bit his lip. 

“There’s just so many people to remember.” He sighed slightly. “Give me a recap?” 

You nodded. 

“So you know my family’s names, right? Mum is Alice, Dad James, brothers Tom, Will and Lucas.” You said, and he nodded, so you continued. 

“Rose and Max own the house we’re going to, and their daughter is Sophie. Then our other neighbours, the ones next door, are Graham and Pam, and their daughters Violet and Bella. You’ve met Violet, she’s my best friend, remember?” Owen nodded again. 

“I think I’ll survive your family, it’s just everyone else I’m worried about.” He told you. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand. 

“It will be okay. I’ll make sure to introduce everyone when we get over there, okay?” You said, leaning across the car to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Now we should probably get inside and see if Mum needs help with anything.” 

You climbed out of his truck, walking around to his side of the car and waiting for him to hop out, grabbing onto his hand when he did. He locked his truck and with a last reassuring squeeze you were leading him around to the front of your house. 

“Do we knock?” He questioned as you reached the door. You giggled and shook your head. 

“Knock knock!” You called out, opening the front door. 

“It’s open.” Your mum’s voice called back from the kitchen. You led Owen down the hallway and into the kitchen, smiling widely when you saw your mum and dad stood behind the bench. 

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Your mum joked, and you dropped Owen’s hand to give her a quick hug, then your dad next. When you stepped back he grabbed onto you again. 

“Mum, Dad, this is my boyfriend Owen. Owen, this is my mum Alice, and my dad James.” You introduced. 

“It’s very nice to meet you sir and ma’am.” Owen smiled, and you squeezed his hand to reassure him. 

“Oh please, call us Alice and James dear. It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you I feel like I already know you.” Your mother laughed. “This one never shuts up about you.” 

You pouted. 

“Don’t expose me.” You said. Owen grinned. 

“It’s okay baby. if you asked my mum she’d say exactly the same thing.” He told you and you smiled up at him, before turning your attention back to your parents. 

“Is there anything you need taken across the road?” You asked and your dad nodded. 

“We were just about to take the chairs over, do you want to tell the boys and we’ll all head over now?” He suggested and you nodded, dragging Owen behind you as you went to find your three brothers. 

After introducing Owen to your brothers and collecting the chairs from your garage, the seven of you headed across the road to where your neighbours had already set up the table and barbeque. 

“Hello everyone!” Rose greeted from her spot next to the table with Sophie, as you made your way up the driveway. 

“Ooh we’ve got a ring in.” Max joked, coming over from his spot behind the barbeque. 

“This is my boyfriend Owen.” You introduced. “O, this is Rose and Max, and that’s Sophie.” You pointed to each one as you said their names. 

Owen waved shyly and Rose smiled. 

“Don’t be nervous, we’re all very nice.” She said and Owen smiled back. You placed your chairs down at the table, before turning to find your other neighbours heading up the driveway. 

Violet was the first to reach you, throwing her arms around you. 

“Hey friend!” She exclaimed as you hugged her back with one arm, your other hand linked tightly with Owen’s. She pulled away, grinning happily at your boyfriend. 

“Hey Owen it’s good to see you again.” She said, pulling him into a hug too. You giggled at the slightly shocked expression that covered his face for a few seconds before he hugged her back. 

“Nice seeing you too Violet.” He replied. She turned to her family. 

“This is Y/N’s boyfriend Owen. Owen this is my mum Pam, my dad Graham and my sister Bella.” She said. Owen smiled at them. 

“Howdy.” Graham greeted, while Pam and Bella just waved. 

“Now.” Your mum spoke up. “Should we get this party started?” 

Everyone settled in quickly, loud chatter filling the air as the sun went down. The three fathers headed over to the barbeque, Owen joining them tentatively, and you watched from your chair as your father handed him a beer and made sure to include him in the joking. You smiled, watching your boyfriend visibly relax which could have been because of the alcohol, but also could have been because of the fact that he could finally let go of the fear of being rejected by your friends and family. 

“So Y/N, how did you meet?” Rose questioned, drawing your attention back to the women who were sat around the table. 

“We met through a mutual friend, he was having a little halloween party and invited me and introduced me to Owen and we hit it off and started dating a few weeks later.” You explained. 

“When was that?” Pam asked. 

“Last year. We’ve been dating for a year and a month or so.” You told her. They all nodded. 

“He seems like a good one.” Your mother said and you smiled, looking over to where Owen was stood, laughing at a joke Max had made. 

“He is.” You agreed. “He’s a very good one.”  

The dinner part of the night went well, everyone loudly joking around. Owen had fitted in well, confidently adding to stories and asking questions, and you couldn’t help but smile at how perfect the situation was. 

After dinner, as per tradition, the kids of the three families headed inside, leaving the adults to sit and chat. You dragged Owen inside, sitting together on the couch as the younger kids decided what to play. 

“Why don’t we go back outside and play hide and seek?” Bella suggested and when everyone agreed you all headed back outside and down the driveway onto the road. 

“Oldest counts first.” Sophie said, and Violet groaned loudly before covering her eyes and beginning to count. You grabbed Owen’s hand, pulling him with you. 

“I have the perfect hiding spot.” You told him, dragging him up into your front yard and into a small space between your house and a large bushy tree that concealed the two of you perfectly. 

“You’re not scared of spiders, are you?” You questioned, and Owen’s eyes widened. 

“I’m scared of all bugs, you know this.” He exclaimed in a hushed voice. You pulled an apologetic face, before an idea popped into your head. 

“I know something that will keep your mind off it.” You said, before pulling his face down to kiss him passionately, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He groaned, pulling your body against his as he kissed you back, the two of you lost in your own little world. 

“Ew oh my god, get a room!” Violet’s voice came and you and Owen jumped apart quickly. 

“Shut up.” You replied and Violet laughed. 

“Whatever. Found you, go join the other losers in the street.” 

Midnight finally came around after hours of running around, playing Lego Rock Band on Xbox, and playing the family friendly version of Cards Against Humanity. 

Everyone regathered in the living room, watching as the timer on the tv counted down, and you all joined in noisily. 

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!” You all cheered, and you grinned as Owen pulled you in to a soft kiss. 

“Happy New Year O.” You mumbled against his lips. He smiled as he pulled away. 

“Happy New Year.” He replied. 

After exchanging well wishes with everyone you decided to head home, accepting your mother’s offer of staying the night in your childhood room. 

You watched as Owen pulled his clothes off, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. 

“Happy new year indeed.” You joked, your eyes raking his body. He blushed, stepping closer to you. 

“Your turn.” He whispered, pulling on your dress and helping you take it off, leaving the two of you stood in just your underwear. 

“Does your door lock?” Owen questioned softly, reaching out to run a hand down your side. You swallowed as you shook your head. He made a sound in disappointment. 

“Guess we’ll just have to be careful then.” He said, closing the gap between you and lifting you up to kiss you. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he spun around, placing you down onto your bed and climbing on top of you, reconnecting your lips. 

You ran your hands through his long hair, scratching slightly on his scalp, causing him to moan into your mouth. He grinded his hips down into yours, causing you both to gasp at the contact, your kiss getting steamier by the second.

Owen broke the kiss, panting slightly. 

“We don’t have a condom.”  He muttered.

“That’s okay.” You kissed him softly. “We can improvise.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” He questioned. You nodded, pushing him off you and forcing him to lay back on your bed. You palmed his dick through his underwear and he groaned.

“Fuck Y/N.” He muttered. You shushed him.

“Don’t want to be caught, do we?” You said, before pulling at his underwear, letting his dick spring free.

Owen moaned as you lent down, licking a single line up his dick, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“Make sure you’re quiet for me baby.” You instructed, before taking his dick in your mouth, putting as much in as you could without choking and wrapping your hand around the remaining part. Owen’s hands tangled in your hair as you bobbed your head, licking and sucking on his dick and occasionally scraping your teeth gently along it to hear his shaky gasp.

“I’m close baby.” Owen warned eventually and you tapped on his thigh to let him know it was okay for him to cum, a signal you had been using since the first time you messed around with each other. You continued to bob your head, humming against his dick which was all he needed to tumble over the edge, his hot cum filling your mouth as he moaned into your pillow to stay quiet. After working him through his orgasm you pulled off his dick with a satisfying pop, before swallowing his cum and leaning down to kiss him.

“Your turn.” He instructed once you broke apart from the kiss, flipping you over so that you were laying on the bed. He quickly undid your bra, throwing it to the floor before kissing his way down your chest, pulling one of your nipples into his mouth. You bit your lip to hold back a moan as his tongue flicked at your sensitive nipple. He pulled away, before repeating the same actions with your other nipple, and once he was satisfied he began kissing his way down your abdomen, stopping only to pull your panties off.

He spread your legs before making himself comfortable between them. He lent down, sucking a hickie into both of your inner thighs.

“Owen.” You moaned quietly and he grinned up at you.

“That’s it baby, you ready?” He asked and you nodded.

“Please.” You said, your tone verging on begging.

He grinned again, before burying his face in your pussy, his tongue flicking at your clit as you bit into your pillow to stay quiet.

“Delicious.” He commented cheekily, before slipping his tongue inside you, his hand coming up to massage your clit as he tongue fucked you.

“If you keep doing that I won’t last.” You warned and he ignored you, his tongue flicking faster.

“Owen.” You groaned, as he moved his mouth back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. “I’m gonna...”

You were cut off by your orgasm shaking your body, moaning quietly into the pillow.

Owen looked up at you, giving you a cheeky look before continuing his assault on your now extremely sensitive clit.

“Owen what are you doing?” You questioned shakily. He laughed, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body.

“Helping you start the new year right.” He explained before returning his attention to your pussy, his tongue flicking at your clit once more.

It didn’t take long for the familiar feeling of your orgasm to reappear, and you warned Owen quickly, gasping when he sucked your clit back into his mouth as a response.

Your orgasm hit quickly, and to both of your shock you squirted all over Owen’s face. He pulled away, staring at you in shock.

“Holy fuck.” He said after a moment. Too exhausted to reply you just nodded.

“Fuck.” Was all you could get out. Owen grinned.

“I didn’t know I could make her squirt.” He muttered, mostly to himself, as he grabbed one of the towels your mother had left out for the two of you to use in the morning, wiping his face and chest with it, before heading back to you.

“You okay baby?” He questioned, wiping your thighs that were covered in liquid from when you squirted.

“Yeah just exhausted.” You said, letting Owen clean you up.

Once he was done he grabbed your underwear from the floor and helped you pull it back on before offering you his shirt he had been wearing, which you accepted sleepily. He pulled his boxer briefs on before pulling back the covers of your bed and helping you in, climbing in next to you.

You yawned, snuggling into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Happy new year O, I love you.” You whispered.

“Happy new year, I love you too.” He replied, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

You snuggled closer and not long after that you found yourself falling asleep, ready for another new year with your amazing boyfriend.

[keijiskitty]

getting caught making out with yamaguchi w/ fem!reader

request: can you do yamaguchi getting caught making out with his gf in the club room? but he’s more dominant in their relationship. also can you not put my name in this? thank you <333

a/n: hey love! so i didn’t really know how to respond to your ask but keep your url hidden, (or if that’s even possible) so i decided i’d just copy paste your reuest and tell you lmfao. also, congrats on being my first request lol <3

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• okay so earlier in the day, he had lent you a textbook

• so you decide to just stop by the clubroom and leave the textbook in his bookbag since you dont want to interrupt practice

• but in the gym earlier, noya had spilled water on yamaguchi's shirt

• and daichis all like "don't worry about it, there are extras in the clubroom"

• so then yams goes back to the clubroom to change

• he's taking off his shirt when the door opens, and thinking its nishinoya coming to apologize, he turns around

• "hey, noya-senpai i'm not ma-"

• “i’m not that short y’know” you retort, but then you get a good look at him

• and now you're standing there staring, because your boyfriend is standing in front of you, shirtless, and fuck he looks hot- what with the sun coming through the open door behind you illuminating his features and defining his toned abs

• you have absolutely no idea what to do because you've never seen him shirtless so should you look away? no that would be weird you're his girlfriend. but what if he doesn't want you looking because he's insecure? but how could he be insecure he literally has the body of a God wtf-

• "like what you see, y/n?” seeing you ogle at him was a total confidence booster

• "uh"

• he rolls his eyes good-naturedly and leans against his locker with an amused look, "well? are you gonna keep ogling or are you gonna come here and kiss me?"

• you: say less lmfao

a breathy sigh leaves your lips as you feel tadashi's hands roam up and down your sides, your back against the cold locker. honestly, you're not complaining, your boyfriend is extremely hot, you're in the mood, and he's giving you exactly what you want. its just that you know how hard he's been working and how much he’s been focusing on volleyball, and don't want him to berate himself over this later. "tadashi, you have to get back to pr- ah! practice!"

"practice can wait, love" he responds as he sucks hickies above your collarbone

yeah, definitely not complaining.

he grazes his teeth over the sensitive spot under jaw, "fuck!" you breathe out, pushing his chin to face you so he can continue kissing you. you comb your fingers through his hair, tugging on one strand to elicit a grunt from him.

you smile into the kiss, satisfied that you’re the reason he makes those sounds, and you’re the only one who gets to hear them. your body is on fire, feeling electric everywhere tadashi touches you, your hand trailing down to the back of his head, pushing his head deeper into the kiss. you wanted more, needed more. 

unfortunately, you didn’t quite get more.

“hey, yama- ohhkay! woah! uhHH”

you scrambled to let go of tadashi and push him off of you the second you recognized another presence standing in the doorway, made easier by the fact that your boyfriend had practically jumped 3 feet backwards.

you recognized the short stature standing in the doorway as nishinoya, their libero. why was he here? it sounded like he had some business with yamaguchi, shit, you realized you weren’t even supposed to be here in the first place, was he going to get you in trouble?

“nishinoya-senpai! I’m so sorry! I- I didn’t- I’m really sorry It won’t happen again-”

“I DIDN’T KNOW YOU HAD A GIRLLL!! CONGRATS YAMAGUCHI! My mann!”

okay, so he definitely wasn’t going to get you in trouble. he was...proud? of tadashi? you were just grateful that it wasn’t one of the third-years or coaches, that would be bad. still, it’d be better if you left before anyone else come in and read the situation. you moved to pick up your bag and finally give tadashi the textbook you had borrowed when-

“aaand what do we have here?” 

your head shot up to see one of the third-years, the one with silver hair leaning against the doorway. so much for your escape plan

“I was just leaving! Sorry, I came to give back one of Tadashi’s textbooks.” you looked over at him when you said his name, and actually took him in, he was still shirtless, and crimson red from his beck to the tip of his ears, avoiding eye contact by hanging his head down. it would’ve been cute if you also weren’t mortified. 

“sure,” said the third-year, with a knowing glint, “don’t worry about it, your sugawara-senpai’s-” so that’s his name “got you covered.” he looked down at the libero, “as long as you can keep your mouth shut,” and then looked back at you and tadashi, “you lovebirds’ll be safe from embarrassment.” 

“c’mon, nishinoya, you can apologize later” you heard sugawara say before walking out the door, following nishinoya. you picked up the textbook and placed it in tadashi’s hands, who was still avoiding eye contact.

“uh, here” jeez, real smooth y/n, you could’ve at least tried to act normal

“hey, y/n?” he finally looked up at you.

“hm?” 

“don’t worry, we can continue this later.” 

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and that’s it! i apologize for how long this took, and i’m really sorry if it’s cringey, any feedback is appreciated! <3

[yeonjuins]

SKDKAKSKSKSKDK CRYING YOURE SO CUTE I LOVE YOU but no honestly that warms my heart to know that you checked in on me and that it would cause despair if I were to leave (the feelings mutual) I’m glad seeing me in the notifs makes you happy ♡︎♡︎ seeing you on the dash make me happy to SKSK I’m always like “fran’s on” SJSJS but don’t worry I am not going anywhere lol

And I figured you would see me from your moots SKSKDK im slowly trying to come out of my shell and interact with people but you can’t send pictures on anon (boo) so I was like welp. It’s now or never and plus I know most ccs like interactions and I see that sometimes no one really sends anything so im like hey what do I have to lose and plus it would make their day soo I just do it SKSKS and like it’s getting kinda fun but I am still quite shy :3

I don’t mind it I actually like that you know my url SKSK but I like humming anon more,, it has meaning ♡︎♡︎

I’m so glad you’re feeling better ♡︎ it’s completely understandable though I tend to do that sometimes but my family always tends to reassure me that it’s okay because I barely spend things on myself (like literally whenever I get money I’m always trying to save but like eventually I’ll have to spend it on something I need but it doesn’t stop the guilt from flowing in) I guess we just have to train ourselves better at things like that,, did you end up buying the desk or you changed your mind?

Awe I’m glad it made you feel warm ♡︎♡︎ that was my goal SKSKS but it’s good that things aren’t as foggy for you now and hopefully everything calms down soon ♡︎

yes yes yes I totally agree!! I do that too SKSK like I have a playlist for just their songs when I’m in those moods so it’s no interruptions,, growl, mama, what is love yes so true <3 when I heard what is love I was like whaaaa why is this so good? Was literally so obsessed with it SKSKDK and yes exo was my first group too but like I’m fairly new to kpop and I discovered them in 2019 (not new but new yknow SJSJ) when I saw call me baby pop when I was listening lot music on YouTube also so funny because before call me baby popped up I was listening to an NCT song,, (can’t remember if it was Touch or Regular but it was between those two) but they were literally almost my ult group because they’re how I got into kpop (the 7th Sense my beloved <3) but then call me baby came on and just stole the shine SJSJ) PFTT are you talking about exo next door? I found time to watch the whole thing at some point when I got into them because I saw how people didn’t really like it but it actually wasn’t that bad to me KSSKDK and yes SKSK very understandable to have a crush on chanyeol <3 I did too (he’s one of my bias from that group along with Kai and Baek,,, don’t know why I can’t seem to have one bias SKSKD like i try so hard but it’s like my brain automatically chooses 3 and is satisfied) oop I totally rambled KSKS I hope all that made sense-

YES I DID!! ♡︎♡︎ you never knowwww I might like them hehe but yes you are doing good work my friend SKSKDK and thank youuu I ammm!! it went by so fast though :( but I enjoyed it nonetheless :D ♡︎♡︎♡︎

ikr? and I’m not sure but I think it’s like a transition song to another song from that album?? But don’t quote me on it but yeah it’s really pretty SKSKSK and oh what a cute name for a song,, I will definitely listen to it but noo that’s so nice SKSKDK like that makes me excited to listen to it

totally fine how you ended the ask SKSKD and of course of course I wholeheartedly enjoy your rambles ♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

(lengthy response!)

hello my sweet angel my sleep schedule is so bad ASDHOAJWLMK legit i've been sleeping at 2am lately and then i go to school and sleep for another hour in the library... and then i go home and near the end of the day i feel really tired so i end up taking ANOTHER nap.... today was the worst because i slept around 2am (i was going to take melotonin to fix it but WE RAN OUT D:) but then my body WOKE UP AT 6AM? AND I WAS LIKE oh it's dreamies comeback so I LISTENED TO IT AND SKIMMED THROUGH THE ALBUM TRACKLIST AND THEN I WENT BACK TO SLEEP and i finally woke up around 9-10am... (":

on the bright side (?) i'm infamous for being the person that always sleeps in the library now PAHHAHHA i'm close w my librarians so they do not care but on friday i was so exhausted and my back was beginning to hurt from hunching over to put my head onto the desk so i just sprawled on one of the couches and knocked out for the entire period AND APPARENTLY THEY TEASED ME ABT IT IN THEIR OTHER CLASS ASHDOIKLAWM <3

i stayed home from school today because 1. bad sleep schedule 2. supply teacher and 3. my ikea order is coming in and i wanna work on my new set up asap (:< but i was like k first order of busniess i'm responding to humming anonnie they have waited long enough !!!!!

ASDUAWM NO YEAH ! every time i see you in my notifs i'm like (; it's humming anonnie hello and gives me a good indicator that you are alive and well <3

NOOO YEAH sending photos requires you to go off anon ): i think you can send links however...? it's a bit weird but ik u copy and paste your asks so they can go over the character limit so that should work !! it'll give me a nice surprise too tbh ASDHIUWAJM and ofc humming anon shall always be who i think u are.... (i legit do not know ur name otherwise ASHUDIJOKMAW BUT I THINK ! for the time being that's probably best?)

omg nct is what got you into kpop, yet alone, the 7th sense?? that's acc insane because the 7th sense is such a hard song to not only pull off as a performer but to indulge imo as well AND THAT ESP FOR A DEBUT SONG ? nct insanity since day one and they made that very clear (": <3

YES IM TALKING ABOUT EXO NEXT DOOR LETS FUCKING GOOOOO ASDHUIAWOMK i dont even remember the concept i think like... we were y/n or some shit (in this case, an exo-l but tbh it just felt like a y/n plot drama) and like ..... idk our love interest was between 3 guys? ??????????????????????? <- blurry memory

if ur brain automatically choses three people as ur biases, what do u do when u get into a group of three humming anon 🎤 <- reporters microphone

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of wildfire relief, @jesusonthetortillas​ donated $10, and requested pre-series pining!Sam, with diary discovery. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

After his little lesson from Sabrina, the hot librarian's assistant, it's not hard at all for Dean to find what he's looking for. He drops Sam off at the library the way he usually does, and flirts with Sabrina on his way out like he usually does, but instead of going to his shift at the construction site like Sam thinks he's going to, he circles back around, through the library stacks on the main floor, and waits like a dingus by YOUNG ADULT – ADVENTURE, watching the back of Sam's nerdy, nerdy head where he's hunched at the computer banks, getting up to no kind of good.

It wouldn't have come to this, Dean thinks, if Sam weren't so—he doesn't even know how to think about it. He doesn't know when to pin it down. They were doing okay. Sam ran away, a few years back, but since then he's—well, he's always bitching at Dad and bitching at Dean half the time too, but he's done good in school, he's done his part with the hunting. It was sometime at that last school. September in Maryland. Dad was gone a lot of the time, because Dad always was, and Dean went with him on about half the hunts but Sam got to stay behind, got to just call in research tips and last-minute lore checks, and Dean thought he was pretty happy, as much as Sam ever seemed happy. Chill, just doing his homework at the rickety desk, not complaining any more than usual about Dean's usual dinners of fast food or Kraft or Top Ramen. Seventeen and getting tall and mellowing out, and finally hanging out with his little brother was just fine. Dean thought.

That was two towns ago, three months ago. Dean picks his nails with his pocket knife, leaning on one elbow by the Hardy Boys. Sam's still working away on the computer. Anymore he always is. After school he's always angling for Dean to bring him to the library and if Dean won't drive him then Sam walks, even when it's raining, like it is half the time in frickin Washington, anyway. Always finding a free computer and settling in and disappearing onto the internet. Not coming home until the library closes, and moody if Dean's there when he walks in, and Dean just—he thought they were past all this crap. He thought that maybe Sam had—settled. Figured out how things were, how things had to be.

Well. Either way. Sabrina, with the glasses and the sexy dreads and the legs that very much went all the way to the floor under those wide-legged pants she was always wearing—she gave Dean a computer lesson, free of charge, and he's got a way in, now. Sam won't talk to him, won't hardly look at him. Dean chews the inside of his cheek, watching Sam type on the battered public machine. Sam's not the only one who knows how to research a case, in this family. Dean's going to figure this out. He's gonna fix it.

A bell rings, at five o'clock, like the end of a school day. Sam jerks like he's been shocked and looks up at the ceiling, clearly annoyed. He's been engrossed for two hours, typing away, reading. Real frickin' boring, on Dean's end, but he stayed put. Like staking out a house for a job—nothing to do but wait. He takes a few steps backwards, makes sure the shelves hide his face, and there's a general rustling as people leave—a mom and her kid, and tears because the kid's favorite book wasn't here—and when Dean looks again the computer banks are empty, and Sabrina's checking out the last few patrons, and Sam's—gone. Walking home in the rain, little goth that he is. Fine with Dean, if it gives him a few minutes.

When he settles into the chair Sam was in it's still warm. He opens up Netscape Navigator, the library's homepage welcoming him in a friendly kinda way—big yellow smiley face, that's fun. He goes to where Sabrina taught him, in the menu at the top: view, and then History, where it turns out the computer saves all the webpages you went to just in case you need to find them again, and there—oh, jackpot. Gotcha, Sam.

All kinds of crap. A weather website, a bunch of Ask Jeeves searches, something called DiffEQandU. Some mythology stuff, too, and Dean goes to one that turns out to be a history of kitsune. That's something, at least—Sam doing his important homework, in there with whatever other crap he's been working on.

The last bunch of results are all pages from some website called Livejournal, which Dean's never heard of. He clicks one at random and is brought to—huh. A splashy red page, with a big picture on top of kids graduating from high school in those dorky blue robes. He scrolls down, skimming, looking for the important details among the mess, but it's hard to tell what it is. A forum, it looks like. Kind of like the ones Dean's been on where people trade car parts, or swap ghost stories. A square box, dated yesterday, that says WHEN IS HARVARD'S APP REVIEW???, and a panicky paragraph where some chick might die if she doesn't get in. Another, the day before, with questions about the SAT, and a link that says 43 comments that, when Dean clicks it, brings him to a bunch of apparently teenagers all giving each other tips from some test they're worried about taking.

College. Dean's stomach curls into a knot. It's all—college stuff, applications and tests and deadlines. The usernames are all weird shit: tmntpizzadelivery, quistis4ever, willyshakes. Dean can't tell—is one of these kids Sam?

Sabrina's nearly done with her line of book nerds. Dean rubs a hand over his mouth and clicks away, tries another of the Livejournal results in the history. Another forum, this one apparently about—soccer? Jesus, Sam. Another forum, this one about Conan the Barbarian, and that one's at least easy to snort at, with people's shitty drawings of Red Sonja and excitement about a possible remake. There are personal pages, though, too—one titled Delaware Sucks, in which some girl complains about her life—one titled trent reznor rules my soul, featuring a goth kid who won't shut up about Nine Inch Nails and his bitch of a mother. Another, with a plain blue-and-grey color scheme, with the title on the road, and a new post from today—from an hour ago—with the text just reading, I don't know what to do anymore, and six comments underneath, waiting.

"Hey—ready to go?" Sabrina says.

Dean jerks in his seat. Sabrina's raising her eyebrows at him, behind her glasses, a little smile curving her mouth that promises something a little better than book dust and computer lessons. "I'm always ready," Dean says, grinning, and gets her to roll her eyes—yeah, he's in there—but his eyes drag back to the webpage, the posts. He scrolls down, quick—post after post, waiting to be read. "Real quick—borrow a pen?"

She has one—she's a sexy librarian, of course she has one—and he uncrumples a receipt from his jacket pocket and writes down the URL, careful to get it right. rearviewmirror.livejournal.com. He wants to click on the comments, but.

"Come on, the movie's starting soon," Sabrina says, and Dean closes Netscape, folds the receipt very carefully into his pocket, stands up. He's got a date to make out with a hot chick in the back of a movie theater, and maybe a little more, and Sam's whole Eeyore routine has to take a number. Dean will figure it out. He's got an easy way to run a stakeout, now.

*

December 4

Still can't decide. Anyone else going through this?

current mood: agonized current music: motorhead (AGAIN)

Comments:

teenagehamburger: Yes!! I still don't know where I want to go. Mom wants me to stay close to home, but Delaware sucksssss. Where are you looking?

       rearviewmirror: Anywhere. TBH I'm still not even sure I should apply.

               teenagehamburger: WTF?? Of course you should!! College is the big escape, remember?

 December 1

He's driving me INSANE

current mood: annoyed current music: motorhead (again)

Comments:

bloodofreptile: lol you got it bad

       rearviewmirror: right now I just want to hit him with a brick, actually

teenagehamburger: LOL!! Sorry :(  :(

       rearviewmirror: Sigh. I guess it could be worse, right?

             teenagehamburger: Definitely!! He could be the cute cheerleader from 4th period who doesn't know I exist….

                     coppertonebuttgirl: oh, sorry hammie, that sucks <3

 November 29

The thing is, I don't even want anything crazy? I just want to be—me. Just me, without anyone breathing down my neck. Trig teacher says I could get in to one of the top ten, but I just want to go *anywhere that's not here*

current mood: restless current music: Pearl Jam (home alone!)

Comments:

bloodofreptile: i hear you lol. why don't they get that the rules and hovering and all that shit just makes us want to run faster?

    rearviewmirror: Exactly! My teacher keeps talking about college like it's a place to expand your mind and stuff, and that's fine, but lately I just want to expand my horizons. Kind of ironic?

         bloodofreptile: yeah lol haven't you lived like everywhere?

               rearviewmirror: Feels like it.

teenagehamburger: Is You Know Who going to college too?

 November 18

I feel like it shouldn't be this hard. Normal people have it easy.

current mood: indescribable current music: silence

Comments:

coppertonebuttgirl: feel free to talk to me anytime <3

 November 3

Dad's gone again. Didn't say goodbye. We went to the movies and he gave me a beer, and we watched the stars for an hour in the parking lot even though it was freaking freezing. Happier than I've been in a while. Don’t want it to change but it has to change.

current mood: current music:

Comments:

teenagehamburger: OMG, that sounds so romantic?? I can't believe you were drinking!! Aren't you underage?

     bloodofreptile: lol relax it's not a big deal

           teenagehamburger: I'm just saying!!

coppertonebuttgirl: wish it wasn't hard for you <3

bloodofreptile: dude you've got to say something

     rearviewmirror: I literally can't.

          bloodofreptile: ok but it's gonna drive you crazy. do you even know if he's gay? start with that maybe

*

The posts go on, and on. Reading backwards through time, it's a strange piecing-together. rearviewmirror is active in about ten communities and Dean reads through all of them, that week, bringing an illicit cup of coffee in to the library when he doesn't have a construction shift. He reads with his hand over his mouth and by the time he has to get off the computer he's got a headache, every time, his throat dry and aching.

The journal's been active for six months. Dean clicks through the pages to the very start and reads it in the right order, his heart pounding oddly in his ears. I don't know what this place is. A journal, I guess, considering the name. I just need somewhere to talk where no one will listen.

It's not a pouring-out, like some teenage girl doodling hearts around her crush's initials. He holds back. Never says exactly where they're living, never mentions names. To figure out who it was, you'd have to be one of two other people, and Dean knows that Dad can barely turn on a computer, much less go onto the internet and pore over some teenage angst-fest. Dean spends half his time wishing he were the same. Maybe if he hadn't asked Sabrina for help.

At home, Sam's the same as he always is. Comes home after his own stint at the library, eats the dinner Dean gives him. He reads, most of the time. Does his schoolwork. Dean says, careful one night, "Hey, True Lies is on. Wanna watch?" but Sam only gives him a strange, uncertain look and says, "No, I have a paper due," and he shuts himself into their bedroom with the door very firmly closed, and Dean sits there on the couch alone with a beer and Jamie Lee Curtis being sexy as hell on the fuzzy TV, and he—he doesn't know what to do.

He remembers that day, the looking at the stars day. It was November 2. A nasty anniversary, in their family, and yeah, Dad left. Dean got it. He'd thought Sam did, too, by now. It was better to have Dad gone, on a hunt, than trying to drink himself to death at home in the apartment. At least he was working, that way, and not hurting himself. To distract both of them, Dean picked Sam up from the library and they went straight to the movie theater—the Blair Witch sequel, with Dean providing running commentary about how dumb they were about dealing with ghosts, which at least made Sam grin and elbow him to shut up, even if he was laughing too, the liar—and, yeah, afterward they'd picked up Taco Bell, and then after that Dean swung through the liquor store drive-thru and they parked out, and he let Sam have a beer, and they both sat on the trunk and leaned back against the cold glass or the rear window and didn't really talk, much. The stars, big above them. The night, quiet. Sam was pressed against his side, chilled out and not bitching about anything, and Dean tucked his hand behind his head and he was pretty content with the world, right then. His brother, here, and a six-pack waiting, and nothing happening right then that'd hurt them. Sam smiled at him, that night, before he went to bed. It was sweet—like he used to be, when he was little—and Dean had ended up falling asleep on the couch, watching the public access, but his dreams that night were—good, like they never were on the night of November 2, and it had felt… okay.

do you even know if he's gay?

The college prep—that wasn't a surprise. It hurt but it didn't shock. All his worrying, all his whining, wanting to be 'free'—whatever free meant—it was all part and parcel of the last decade. Dean should've known better. Sam wasn't mellowing out. Sam was a stubborn little shit and he'd always wanted to have a life that wasn't—this.

The gay thing. That hit different. One of the communities Sam followed was for lesbian and gay youth, talking about their coming out experiences. Sam didn't post there much but he commented, asked questions. How do you know? What does it feel like? The hamburger girl was from there, a lesbian chick trapped in some Delaware high school. Encouraging, commiserating. They talked about how college would be their big escape, their chance to go to a big city and find their way. Meet people. Only apparently hamburger girl was crushing on the cheerleader from fourth period, and Sam—

Dean makes an excuse the next day. Saturday: no work for Dean, no school for Sam. Alone in the apartment together, all day, after Dean's week of reading—he can't face it. "Where are you going?" Sam asks, eight a.m. with his hair fucked up and coffee clenched between his hands, and Dean looks at him in his pajama pants and his ratty hand-me-down shirt, skinny and tall and hiding things Dean can't handle, and he says, snappish in a way he doesn't mean to be—"Out, Sam, for christ's sake—" and sees Sam's expression shutter before the apartment door slams behind him.

He goes for a drive, out of town. Cold, threatening rain like it always is, but it won't snow. Out—past the airport, past the suburbs, out to Black Lake. They killed the nymph that was drowning people out here, him and Dad, when they first arrived. Sam stayed home. Sullen on the other end of the line when Dean called to say they'd finished the job, and they were getting burgers for dinner, and did Sam want one. Whatever, Sam had said, like even answering was an imposition. That was November, too.

He sits on the hood, heels braced on the bumper, arms locked around his knees. The lake looks cold. He wants to sink into it, wants to feel that freezing shock, like the polar bear dive he did on a dare back in Illinois. The way the brain just goes blank, tv-static filling up everything and washing all the shit away. All the weird crap you don't want to think about, frozen, and the only thing to focus on just—getting out.

He's not going to dive into the lake. It's nine in the morning and he's wearing his only pair of boots. He hasn't gone out with Sabrina all week. He's been piss-poor at the construction site and McMillan nearly brained him with a hammer yesterday, because Dean wasn't paying attention, and the foreman screamed at him in front of the whole crew. None of that feels close, right now. He breathes the wet-clogged air, cold and mossy, turning his ring restlessly on his finger.

Back at that high school they went to in Raton, Mrs. Encinas in 6th period English told Dean he'd be smart, if he didn't just give up all the time. All he needed to do was take the time to read between the lines, to actually interpret what he was reading and not take things on face value. He made some joke. He doesn't remember what it was, now. Like he didn't know what the fuckin Great Gatsby was saying, when he hoped and hoped and never got what he wanted. When happiness always felt like it was about a thousand miles away, on the other side of a lake he couldn't cross, and hope went out like a snuffed light. Dean can read what's not there. He's done it his whole life.

The problem: Sam's little online journal went back six months. They've lived in four towns, in that time. He never uses names, never puts up anything that'd really identify him. They were in Maryland, August-September-first of October, and it was a comment right at the end of August, on the community for gay kids, talking to the hamburger girl: I like someone, too. He doesn't know. He. The same he that carried forward, through all his journal entries, from Maryland to Washington across whole breadth of the country. He likes classic rock. He drives me nuts. He gave me a beer, and I wanted—

Dean curls forward over his knees, sliding his hands into his hair, breathing hard between his knees. He can read between the lines and he wishes that he couldn't. He wishes—god. What? That Sam would just meet a nice girl and fuck her and get it out of his system? Except how he was writing, it wasn't like it was new. It was something he'd been thinking about. When did you know? had read one of the forum posts, and in the responses, among all the dumb teenage crap about formal dances and jerking off to the wrong person in the music video, there was a comment by username rearviewmirror that said, I broke my leg and he carried me to the car and I wanted to kiss him.

Sam broke his leg in July, the summer he turned fifteen. He'd been trying to stay quiet but he'd had this trapped whimper in his throat that he couldn't stop, and Dad had stayed behind to cover their backs and it had been left to Dean, to scoop Sam up, his whole body quivering with the shock—to hug him close between the trees, humid Georgia night making every place their skin touched slick with sweat—to let Sam cling to his neck, shuddering, and to put a hand on his back and whisper, hey, Sammy, it's not even that bad, huh? no bone sticking out, you did good. we're gonna get you a cast and I'm gonna draw you a great picture, okay, Cindy Crawford with her tits out, right there on your shin and Sam had been so shaky that his laugh sounded like he was crying, but he'd nodded against Dean's neck and chattered out sounds cool, Dean, and when Dean got him to the car Sam hadn't wanted to let him go—so they crawled into the backseat together, Sam still half in his lap and with his arms still tight around Dean's neck. Dad got into the front and frowned at Dean in the rearview, and Dean nodded, and when the car leapt forward Sam gasped and gripped at Dean's shirt when his leg got jostled, and Dean put his hand in Sam's hair and said, it's okay, you're okay, and Sam—wanted to kiss him.

He can't square it. It's like there's some twinned version of his brother, in this place Dean never knew existed. All these secrets he's been hoarding, this other person he's been. These wants that make him a stranger.

He goes back home with stuff for lunch around noon. Sam's reading, in the bedroom. "Got pb&j or grilled cheese," Dean calls, down the shotgun kitchen through the thin-carpeted hall, and Sam calls back, "I'm not hungry," which is a goddamn shit of a lie. He grows like an inch a day, he's never not hungry. Dean braces his hands on the counter and counts to five, in his head. He puts the bread away, and puts the cheese in the fridge. He goes into the living room and turns on the TV and it's college football, which is boring as hell, but it fills the apartment with noise. He wishes Dad were home. He wishes he were hunting.

The Huskies lose. Sam hasn't come out of the room, as far as Dean can tell. He's had—four beers? He looks at the table. Five. It's getting toward dark and it's raining, a-fucking-gain, and Dean's still wearing his jacket and his boots and his ears are cold, because the heater in here sucks, and he's shredded the label of the beer everywhere, everywhere. He brushes it off his knees and that just means it's gonna get ground into the shit-brown carpet, but—who cares. He's got other things on his mind.

He gets the last beer out of the fridge. Should've bought more. "Got some spare cash," he says, to the dark hall. There's a halo of light around the half-closed bedroom door. "Thinking pizza for dinner."

Silence.

Dean pushes the beer bottle against his forehead. "C'mon, Sam. It's not going to kill you to prefer pepperoni or sausage. Just say something."

"Doesn't matter," is the response.

Dean squeezes his eyes closed, slams the bottle down to the counter. It's four steps to the bedroom and the door flies open under his palm. "Just fucking say," Dean says, and Sam's looking at him with big eyes, curled up on the twin bed with his back up against the wall, books spread open all around him. Homework, of course. "Just say it, okay? What do you want?"

Sam stares at him. "I don't care! Get—whatever, pepperoni. Jeez, what's up with you?"

"Sure you don't want sausage?" Dean says, kind of nasty, and Sam frowns, shakes his head. Goddamn it. Dean drags a hand over his face, sags against the door frame. He's—a little dizzy. Oh—okay, so maybe he should've eaten, sometime since this morning. "Damn it, Sam," he says, his stomach twinging.

"What?" Give him this—maybe he's sneaking around, maybe he's lying about half his life, but Sam doesn't shrink back from an argument. He's still in his pajamas. He shoves his notebook away, lifts his chin. "What?"

"Been doing some reading," Dean says, and watches Sam's face scrunch disbelievingly. "Rearviewmirror? You don't even like cars."

It's weirdly satisfying to watch Sam blanch. He's been so unaffected the last little while it's almost a relief to get a real reaction. His mouth parts, his eyes go big. He stares at Dean in total silence except the rain drumming on the roof, and then he says, "That's—private."

"Not that private," Dean says. "You're putting shit on the internet for any asshole to read, Sam. It's not a pretty princess diary with a sparkly lock."

Sam's face is white. He licks his lips, his back rigid against the wall. "How did you—you never—"

"I know how to use a friggin computer," Dean says, and watches Sam close his eyes. "So? Got a lot to say to a bunch of strangers. Might as well say it to me. I mean, I'm your brother, right? Family."

It comes out hard but his voice cracks, on the last word. He swallows and some of the anger dissipates. Sam's jaw flexes and he tucks his hands behind his neck and his knees drag in, like defense. Like he needs defense. Against Dean. Like it's Dean who's wrecking things.

Dean's legs go out from under him. He sits down. Right there, in the doorway to the bedroom, the frame hard against his spine. The rain's loud and he doesn't—what is there to say? "You should've told me."

That's really it. Sam looks at him. Disbelief. "How?" he says, and Dean tips his head back against the wall, looks at the popcorn ceiling, says, "I don't know, it's not my damn secret. But you should've."

"Yeah, that would've gone great," Sam says, sarcastic.

Silence. The rain. Dean drags his hand over his face again, clears his throat. "So. You're—queer." For some reason it seems like the simplest thing to start with.

Sam snorts. "I'm not, like, jerking off to JC Chasez," he says, bitter.

"Who?" Dean says, but shakes his head. "God, whatever. Jesus, Sam, I can't—don't talk about you jerking off. You're not—you don't date chicks, either. Ever. So you're—"

"I don't know," Sam says. Kind of firm. Dean closes his eyes to not look at him. "I don't know, okay? But that's not what—" Pause, while he drags in a breath that's audible across the room. Dean curls over, his forehead between his knees. It's too big to hear. Sam blows out air. "You read the whole thing?"

Frail. Cobweb soft, like if Dean breathed too hard it'd break. Dean folds his hands over his head. "I read the whole thing," he says.

"Don't—" Sam says, quick, and cuts himself off. Dean can't stand it—he looks, peeking up, and Sam's made himself small, there at the head of the bed. His mouth is small, his lips between his teeth—his eyes, big and scared. "Dean. I wouldn't—I swear. I wouldn't—"

"Kiss me?" Sam flinches like from a raised fist, when Dean's all the way over here. Dean licks his lips, dropping his hands so they dangle useless between his knees. "Or, what. Leave? Either way it's pretty fucked up, for me, Sam."

"Oh my god," Sam says, very quietly, and—christ. Looks like he's gonna cry.

"Sam," Dean says, and no matter how pissed he is, that's not—Sam fights back. Sam always fights back, he's frickin' annoying that way. He's not supposed to crack like this. Dean rolls up to his knees and Sam's looking away, neck craned unnaturally so that his face is pointed at the broken-blind-covered window so that Dean can't see, but Dean can—Dean can see his teeth so hard in his lip that the skin there's white, and his chest shaky, and his fist clenched in the thin fabric of his pajama bottoms, and, and—"Sammy," Dean says, again, and Sam's eyes close and there is—shit, shit, a tear, running fast out of the corner of his eye, streaking down his cheek so quick that if Dean could blink he might've missed it.

Dean's gut hurts, like he took a punch from a werewolf and he's gonna be bruised for the next three weeks. He doesn't have anything to say to make it better, not when it's this screwed up. This isn't Sam bitching about Dad or whining about crossbow practice or pouting about a move. Sam's been thinking about this for two years and he's managed to talk about it with people, online at least. Dean's coming at it with a week's slow raw realization and he doesn't know how to make it—not how it is.

He gets over to the bed, on his knees. Sam won't look at him, like the view of nothing through the blinds is the most fascinating thing in the world. There's a wet shining trail, down his cheek to his jaw. A damp circle on his t-shirt. Dean says, because he can't think of what else to say, "You really—you want—" and even then, can't articulate it. A kiss. Sex. A kind of close they've never been. He says, slower, "Is that why you want to go?"

Sam drags in air. Sounds like it hurts.

Dean drags his teeth over his lip. There are books all over the bed. He pushes them away, and Sam's notebook. He pushes up—knee on the mattress, and sinking down to his hip, and Sam's close enough to touch, now, and he jerks and looks at Dean like he's an alien. A ghost. Something that can't be real, only they both know that it is. Dean touches Sam's hand, fisted there in his pants, and Sam jerks again, his stiff shoulders back against the wall, and he shoves Dean's hand but no matter the crazy growth spurt Sam's been having Dean's still stronger, still has the reach—he grips Sam's wrist and yanks, gets him off balance, and then he's right inside Sam's grapple and has his hand flat on Sam's chest, pressing him harder against the paint, and Sam stares at him wild-eyed with his breath both fast and deep and Dean leans forward and presses their mouths together. It's a bad kiss—he barely hits on center, and Sam freezes—but there's the touch of warmth, Sam's lips—soft—and the shocked air hitting Dean's face—and Dean drags in breath through his nose and resettles, fits his mouth to Sam's soft open lower lip and makes it better, his head tipping, easy pressure there, just the faintest amount of suction so that when he pulls back a millimeter there's a little smooch sound, and that makes it—real.

He kissed his little brother. No getting around that. No pretending. His nose brushes Sam's cheek and Sam's not really breathing, and Dean—fuck, Dean does it again, pressing in and letting Sam's wrist go so that he can get a hand on Sam's jaw, tipping him so it's good. Sam makes a tiny noise and breathes out hard against his mouth, and when Dean kisses him for a third time Sam meets it, his lips moving finally out of that still shock, his fingertips brushing Dean's arm all careful, his heart pounding under Dean's hand.

Dean pulls back. An inch between them—not enough but all Dean can seem to manage. He swallows. His lips are tingling, and his eyes are closed and he doesn't want to open them, and his fingers—jesus, he's got them tangled in Sam's hair like Sam's some easy hot chick he's picked up at a dive bar, pressing her up against the wall in the bathroom hallway, knowing how the night's going to end.

"We can't," Sam says. Sam. His voice, steady and familiar. "We—Dean. This isn't—"

"No," Dean says, god knows why. He pulls back, though—pulls his hand out of Sam's hair, stands up. His legs wobble for a second. He has to open his eyes and so he drags in a breath and does, and Sam's sitting there with his shoulders high and tight and his hands fisted on his knees and his hair a little fluffed on one side, a little screwy. His mouth parted and his eyes—fixed on Dean's face, looking all over it. Like he's memorizing a trail map, for an unknown stretch of land.

"I'm drunk," Dean says. It's not true. Five beers—he's buzzed but he knows what he's doing. Sam doesn't contradict the lie. "Acting nuts. Sorry, Sam. I—"

"I want pepperoni," Sam says. His face isn't white anymore. He's flushed, dark pink in the hollows of his cheeks. His eyes are dark, wide and fixed on Dean, and there's still that shining trail on his cheek but it's drying. "Order from that place on Melrose. Garlic knots, too."

Dean backs up a step, pins on a smile. "What, you think I'm dumb? Like I wouldn't get knots," he says, and Sam doesn't smile but he nods, brief and fast like Dean's picking up a play in some con they're running, and Dean snaps a finger-gun at Sam—fuck, what is he doing—and turns out of the room, says—"Okay, dinner in thirty minutes or less or your money back!" and walks through the kitchen and out into the living room and out the front door, and closes it behind himself, and leans against it and stares blindly out into the rain, the setting sun still sparking some tiny golden bit of light out to the west, past the horizon.

He licks his lips and tastes salt, not his own. Sam's hand, on his arm—skimming, brushing light through the thickness of his jacket. Like he wasn't sure he'd be allowed to really touch. He drags in the rain-soaked air. He'll drive, to get the pizza. He'll drive, and he'll give Sam time. When he gets back he'll offer Sam half the pie and a beer, and there'll be some movie on TV that Sam probably won't want to watch, but maybe he will. They'll be—brothers. Dean knows how to do that. It feels like it's all he's got left.

*

It's—not easy but it's not all that hard, either. There's a brutal week where Dean's torn between walking on eggshells and wanting to wrestle Sam to the ground, and Sam goes perfectly silent—not pouty withdrawal or furious silent-treatment, but as still and quiet as though he's not even there. Dean can't bear it. It takes Dad coming home to break it—Dad, and christ, when he calls to say he's coming back Dean completely freezes and his mind fills up with—with—but then Sam looks at him and takes the phone out of his hand and says, his mouth's full—what's up? and after that it's like things… settle. It's not okay but it's livable.

rearviewmirror.livejournal.com goes quiet. Dean checks, occasionally, over the months that pass. When he's looking up some random piece of lore for Dad, when they're hunting alone and Sam's stuck back at whatever shitty hotel they stored him at, and Dean's on research duty because Sam's in high school and can't answer his phone. Dean types in the address and checks, and it's still that last post. Anyone else going through this? He hopes, sincerely, not. It's too fucked up for anyone else to bear. At least the Winchesters have practice.

They run PT. Sam does his homework. Dean watches TV. Hunting focuses things. There's stuff to kill and people to save and things aren't falling apart any more than they ever are, so—Dean deals.

Sam leaves.

*

It's January. Dean's in a library, alone. Dad's working a job north of Boise and he sent Dean down to Wendover to take care of a haunting, and Dean's done and Dad called and said two more days and there's this raw wounded spot where Dean should be able to turn, to look over his left shoulder and say—but it's empty there, and so he's in a library.

Sam started posting again, when he got to school. Small stuff. That he was sorry for the long break. That he'd ended up at a university after all. The hamburger girl doesn't respond anymore but the Nine Inch Nails boy does: thought you were dead, he says, no-caps like he's so goddamn cool, and Sam says, Just working some stuff out.

Sam likes his professors. He plays pick-up soccer with some of the guys from his dorm. His roommate snores. He doesn't listen to music at all. There's nothing—real. There's none of the sadboy shit, nothing about what he's feeling, no pondering of what it all means. He picks up a few different Livejournal friends, clearly people from his classes, who crack jokes about Ancient Civ and Linear Algebra. He joins a community focused around civil rights litigation. He might as well not be there.

Dean reads it all. If Sam's not calling then Dean's gonna check in whatever way he can. When Sam left Dean made sure he had at least one good knife in his bag and he said don't forget the salt when Sam hiked his backpack onto his shoulder, and Sam snorted and looked at him like a gunshot but he nodded, and Sam's not dumb, he knows how to take care of himself, but. Dean's the big brother, here. He's within his rights, to check and make sure baby bro's not being a dumbass.

January and it's fuckin cold, in Wendover, but the library's too warm. Dean keeps his coat on anyway, scrolling through the comms. He's kinda turning into an expert, navigating the pages, recognizing the shorthand. He hasn't made an account. Doesn't know why he would. He finishes his scan of the comms Sam's part of and doesn't really see any relevant posts, and no comments from rearviewmirror that he can find. He chews his cheek and goes back to the main page, thinking—okay, he can get out of here. Beer and dinner, and finding a motel that doesn't look toxic, and waiting for Dad to call. Not the worst night he could have. He refreshes, one last time, just in case, and there's a new post. He reads:

January 23

Done with class for the week. Feeling restless.

current mood: current music:

Comments:

lawblog69: we should go out!!

bloodofreptile: go get laid

Dean snorts. At least the NIN kid is consistent. He refreshes again and there's a new comment.

bloodofreptile: go get laid

    rearviewmirror: Not really in the cards.

He takes a breath, sitting there at the computer bank. It's quiet in here—the good people of Wendover aren't much for the library, apparently—but he feels like someone's right there. Like he could reach out and touch, when it's just words on a glowing screen. Still—the speed of the comment—Sam's… sitting there. Right now, on a computer in Palo Alto, looking at the same thing Dean is.

He refreshes.

bloodofreptile: go get laid

    rearviewmirror: Not really in the cards.

        bloodofreptile: still holding onto that? very hufflepuff. how long has it been?

              rearviewmirror: my whole life

Dean presses his knuckles to his lips, hard enough that he can feel his teeth pressing back. Jesus, Sam. He refreshes—another comment, from coppertonebuttgirl, agreeing about the restlessness but apparently she's off to a date with her boyfriend, and Sam responds and says sounds nice :), and jesus, Sam, Dean thinks. Off to have the big college experience like he wanted so bad, off to have that new shiny life, and after five months away he's still all sadsack, still not actually living.

He clicks the comment box. He types, unaccountably mad. He hits submit, and gets a warning that it'll show as anonymous. He waits, and refreshes, and reads:

Anonymous: Just go hit a bar. Live a little. Thought you were supposed to be smart, college boy.

     rearviewmirror: Since when does smart have anything to do with it?

Dean rolls his eyes. He can hear Sam's voice saying it, nettled and trying to sound like he isn't.

Anonymous: You're on here mooning after Cindy Crawford when Claudia Schiffer and Tyra Banks are out there in the real world. Have a beer, get over it.

A pause. Dean has to refresh twice. The librarian walks by with her cart of books and gives him a distracted smile, and Dean's so addled he doesn't actually process and then return it until she's already gone.

rearviewmirror: I don't think it's something you get over. It mattered. It still does, to me.

Dean chews his thumbnail. Sam's face, turned unnaturally, looking out that window at the rain. The wet track, on his cheek.

Anonymous: Matters enough that you're never going to move on?

    rearviewmirror: I didn't think you could move on from family. Maybe I was wrong.

The air goes out of Dean's chest. He turns away from the computer, entirely, swiveling the chair so he's looking out at the lonely bookshelves. He flexes his jaw and swivels back around. Hits refresh.

The thread of comments is gone. He blinks, confused. He doesn't think he was hallucinating—been a while, since he was that tired and drunk. But—oh—in its place, a single comment, under the brief conversation with the NIN kid:

rearviewmirror: Tell me if it's you.

Dean licks his lips. He closes out of the browser, picks up his notepad and keys. On the steps outside it's cold, cold, fucking cold, and this town is bleak. He walks down to the Impala, waiting there in the iced-over grey snow, and braces his hands on the hood, and blows out a long purling winter-dragon breath, and then fishes his phone out of his pocket. Another new phone, but he's got Sam's number memorized, and he almost calls before he chickens out. If it's not actually wanted—he imagines that conversation and he's just not constitutionally capable, right now, of facing how goddamn awkward it'd be.

He texts: It's me.

The response, after seconds: Where are you?

The shitty part of Utah. That's saying something. Easier, like this. Like it's not him kicking down a doorway right into Sam's head.

I don't have class tomorrow.

Could be random, if he didn't know who he was talking to. Dean leans his elbows on the hood of the car, looking at the little box of black-and-white text. He chews his lips and thinks. Before he can respond, another message:

I don't want to move on.

Dean tips his head enough that he's pressing the edge of the phone into his forehead. His fingers are cold. He sniffs, his nose dripping in the icy weather, and types, careful to make sure he gets it right: I'm nine hours away.

Less, if he goes over 100 in the boring parts of Nevada, and if he doesn't stop at all for a catnap.

Stop in Reno for a nap. You get weird when you drive all night. Text me when you're close.

Dean works his jaw, standing there in the cold. He's got nothing to do, for two days. He's got most of a tank of gas. He's got—nothing. Nothing. He gets in the car, and he drives.

It's only 9:30 when he gets to Reno. There were parts of Nevada where he drove very, very fast. He pulls into a truck stop, gets more gas and parks out near where the semis are lined up, the drivers early-birding the night away. Still cold here but less so. He twists around so his back's to the passenger door and looks out the driver window at the neon signs of the truck stop, the cars going in and out of the gas islands. He ate a little but his stomach was all twisted up and he couldn't get much down. A beer would go easier but he doesn't want to be drunk. Well. He does. This is insane. This is—completely stupid.

He pulls out his phone, looks at it. Dials and holds it to his ear, and it rings three times—long enough for him to change his mind four times—before there's an answer, and Sam's voice says, "Dean?"

His voice. Dean closes his eyes, tips his head back against the cold glass of the window. "Long time, no speak," Dean says. It feels rusty.

Sam's quiet for a second, on the other end. "Not really, though. Right?"

"I guess so. It's not the same." Dean listens to the little acknowledging sound Sam makes. There's silence again, for seconds that he counts—one and then two and then three. He listens to the cooling tick of the engine, through it, and then says, before he loses his nerve, "I shouldn't come. Right? This is nuts."

There's some noise, staticky. Like something passed over the mic on Sam's phone. After a beat, Sam says, "You should do what you want to do."

"Oh, should I," Dean says, and it comes out sarcastic, but he doesn't really mean it to be mean. Sam doesn't take the bait, staying quiet on the other end, and Dean opens his eyes again, watching a huge truck muscle past the gas island, watching the normal world go by. He rubs his eye. "I've been—it's been weird, Sam."

Understatement, but he doesn't know why he says it. That kind of stuff isn't for Sam to worry about.

"Go to sleep," Sam says, instead of responding. "An hour or something, just enough so you won't drive off the road. Text me when you're close."

Same thing he said before. "It'll be like three in the morning when I'm close," Dean says, and Sam says, "I'll be awake," and then the line disconnects, and Dean's left there alone again on the bench seat, but it—feels different.

He sort of sleeps, sort of doesn't. He's got a talent for going to bed wherever and whenever he has to—on spare tires and on forest floors and in a closet, once, with a propane tank as his pillow—but his brain won't shut up. He drifts in and out, for the hour Sam asked him for, and then he gets out of the car and goes into the 24-hour c-store and buys a big cup of coffee and a Hershey bar, and points the hood west, and follows the yellow dashed line home.

He texts from a gas station outside Sacramento. Sam texts back in less than a minute with an address. Dean glances at his map of California and responds: 45 minutes, and it's more like thirty when he pulls up to the—yeah, the motel, and he makes a sound that's sort of like a laugh except it doesn't feel like one. He turns into the parking lot and the headlights flash the building, and there, sitting on the sidewalk with his back to a pillar.

Dean parks. Sam has his arms folded over his knees, but he unfurls, stands. Dean gets out of the car and Sam's—jesus, ten feet away, his face totally visible under the streetlight. His hair's a little longer. "Did you get taller?" Dean says, and Sam huffs, his head ducking, and—fuck everything else, it's Dean's little brother, and he drags Sam into a hug, folding his arms over Sam's shoulders even if he has to lift on his toes a little to do it. Sam goes stiff for half a second, but he hugs back, and Dean turns his face in, Sam's hair in his nose like it always is, and feels him—warm, and safe. All Dean ever wanted for him, pretty much.

"You have to get the room," Sam says, when they pull apart. At Dean's eyebrows he shrugs, the corner of his mouth curled. "What? My scholarship doesn't include seedy rent by the hour stuff."

"Oversight much?" Dean says, but he goes in, and he gets a room. Two queens, because that's what the tired miserable little desk clerk says they have available. Means Dean doesn't have to think about other possibilities, and it means that when he dangles the keys off his finger and Sam half-smiles at him, when they've walked down the cold sidewalk side by side, when Dean opens the door and finds the different motel room, same as the first—Sam sits on one bed, and Dean sits on the other, and they look at each other, and it's like it's two years ago and they're just two kids, waiting for Dad to come home.

Sam is taller. Taller than Dean, now. His hair long enough to fall in his eyes, which it does constantly. Newish sneakers, and old jeans, and a hooded sweatshirt, and a denim jacket over the top of that. Not warm enough for the Bay in winter, but Dean bites his tongue before he says anything about it.

"How are your classes?" he says, instead.

Sam's cheek sucks in, like he's chewing it. After a second he says, "You don't want to talk about my classes, man." His head tips. "Anyway. You read about it, right."

It was a mistake not to stop for beer. Dean needs something to do with his hands. "Your algebra professor sounds like an asshole," he says.

Makes Sam smile before he ducks his head, looking down at his lap. "I thought—" He swallows, audibly. He shakes his head, his hair falling down and hiding his face. "Only reason I started posting again was that I wondered if you might still—if you'd check."

It's quiet, honest. Dean hasn't talked to Sam in person for half a year and he's off-balance. Expecting Sam to snark, to be dismissive, to roll his eyes. Small hours of the morning, maybe he's too tired not to be honest. Maybe he's growing up. Dean's not prepared for that.

Sam looks up at him when Dean's silent for too long. His teeth dig into the corner of his mouth and he drags his hand through his hair, gets it off his forehead. "I said I didn't want to move on. You know what I meant, right?"

Dean huffs. "Yeah, I'm not an idiot, Sam," he says, and Sam's eyes tighten. Dean leans back on his hands, tips his head back on his shoulders to look at the ceiling. "Thought this was the whole point of getting out. Getting away, making a whole new life. Being someone else."

"I'm still me," Sam says, unseen. "And it wasn't the whole point. I want a life. That part—whatever, that doesn't matter right now. But I never thought the other thing was going to go away."

He stands up, so Dean can see him. Dean looks at him down his nose, and Sam's—god. Tall. That keeps being his first thought. Tall, and maybe not a stranger, even if he's real damn strange. Sam steps closer, in the little space between the two beds, chewing his lip again. He's gonna make a sore there. "Dean," he says, and Dean raises his eyebrows in response. "You came."

"Yeah," Dean says, rueful. "Well. I'm Cindy Crawford."

Sam's face ripples—a frown, surprise—and then a huffed little laugh—and then he steps between Dean's knees and touches his chest, his jaw. Leans down, slow, telegraphing like they're practicing a fight, and Dean stays exactly where he is, leaned back on his hands, and Sam's mouth touches his—softly. Not hesitant. Dean lets his eyes close and feels it. Puff of air against his face as Sam lets out a tense breath and then another kiss, the damp inside Sam's lip catching against Dean's, and Dean kisses back then, reaching up and getting Sam's jaw, his jacket, fisting the denim and pulling Sam closer. There's a stagger—Sam's knee landing on the bed by Dean's hip, and Dean gets an arm around his lower back and kisses him again, tasting him. Salt, and when Dean kisses him again and presses his mouth open, licks inside, there's coffee-taste, Sam's tongue—slick, tentative—he stayed up, to wait for Dean—his kiss clumsier now, like he doesn't have much practice.

Dean pulls back a few inches. Sam's half-draped on him, his weight nearly in Dean's lap. His eyes are dark but big with surprise, like he didn't expect Dean to go with it. "Sammy," Dean says, and Sam—shudders, his hands closing hard around Dean's shoulders. Okay, Dean thinks, filing that away. He drags a thumb over Sam's jaw, where he's got a barely-there prickle of stubble. "What are we doing?"

Sam shakes his head, licks his lips. "This," he says, holding the side of Dean's neck. "This."

They peel Sam's jacket off, and then Dean's. Sam's still in that hoodie, soft black, and Dean gets his fingers just under the hem of it, barely grazing Sam's stomach, kissing him again—tangled up close on the edge of the bed, Sam's thigh slung over his. Sam keeps touching his face, his chest. His amulet, swinging forward between them when he urges Sam down to his back on the mattress, a knee between Sam's and his hand still there on Sam's belly. Sam grips the amulet and breathes out hot against Dean's face and lifts up for another kiss, which Dean gives him easy, and it's—god, it's good. The lights on, the room warm, Sam wanting underneath his hand. His mouth, slick and open, learning how to press back, how to give as good as he's getting. Dean kisses his cheekbone, his jaw, settles his hand flat on Sam's stomach to ground him, says, "Sammy, you've done this before, right?" Sam hitches breath, nods. Dean sorta laughs, lifts up so he can actually see Sam's expression. "More than once?"

"Twice," Sam says, and when Dean raises his eyebrows he frowns, vaguely indignant. "Jenny Morrison, just before graduation." He licks his lips. "And—a guy. After student orientation, here."

"Playing the field, huh?" Dean says. There's no reason it should make his stomach go molten hot. He rubs Sam's stomach, feels the rise of his breath. "You like it?" Sam nods, again. "What'd you do?"

Sam's cheeks are dark, brick-red. He licks his lips again and Dean ducks back in to kiss him, knocking his mouth open, tasting inside. Earns himself a small deep noise and Sam's hand sliding through his hair where it's too short to grab. He nudges Sam's nose and sits up, peeling off his overshirt. "C'mon. What'd you do? Didn't put that up on your journal, how am I supposed to know?"

"It was a rush party," Sam says, looking at him. He pulls his t-shirt off over his head, making sure his amulet stays put, and Sam blinks heavily, his lips parted. Jeez—it's weird. Hot. Sam wants him, Dean thinks, and it sends a rush of blood south. "He's—uh. Pre-med, smart."

"Not looking for his biography, Sammy," Dean says, and spreads his hands on Sam's hips, pushing up. The hoodie moves, the t-shirt underneath rucks up—Sam's pale here but still that faint all-over tan, darker than Dean's skin. He licks his lips. "What'd you do? Jerk each other off?"

Sam nods, again, his mouth open. God, Dean can imagine it. On some dorm-room bed, their heads leaned together, Sam's mouth open just like this—panting, his hand fumbling down—fuck, fuck it's hot, Sam nervous and into it and trying, making sure. "You liked it, huh?" Dean says, stroking his thumbs over Sam's bare belly.

"Yeah," Sam says, thin on not enough air, his knee drawing up. "But I—I thought about—when you kissed me—" and Dean kisses him again, groaning. Jesus, Sam's gonna kill him. Thinking about some shitty nervous freaked-out kiss when another guy's got his tongue in Sam's mouth. Sam grabs his shoulders, sits up, and Dean accommodates him easy, letting Sam touch him back—Sam's hands sliding down his chest, around to his ribs, grasping. "Dean," he says, panting.

"Let's get this off, huh?" Dean says, pulling, and Sam yanks the hoodie off in a second flat, his hair all ruffling up behind it. The shirt comes with it and there's just Sammy's bare smooth skin, that same pale tan all over. Small brownish nipples, slim muscles. His body. Dean dips and kisses his bare shoulder, licking there, biting, and Sam's nails dig into his ribs so he does it again, swinging a leg over so he's straddling Sam's lap, taking his time. He scrapes his teeth over the swell where Sam's collarbone dips into the arch of his trap, and Sam grips his neck, his back arching. He's hard. Shit, he's nineteen, he has to be hard. Dean slides his fingers down Sam's belly to his belt, tucking under the waist of his jeans, but Sam grips his wrist, then, groaning, saying—"Wait—wait—"

Dean drops his head to Sam's shoulder, groaning back. "We waited," he says, but Sam's hand is on his shoulder, pushing him back, making him look. "What?"

Sam's pink. "Have you—with a guy?" Dean rocks back but Sam's holding him close, looking all over his face. "Dean. Have you—"

"Yeah," Dean says, and watches Sam's ears go red. Sam doesn't need to know when, but it was all in the last year. Three dudes, hookups that were way too easy. They were good—turns out that Dean just likes sex, any way someone will give it to him—and he learned what it felt like to have a dick not his own in his hand, how it felt to slip a cock into his mouth and make a man groan. He hadn't thought about Sam while he was doing it, not really, but he's thinking about it now, and Sam's eyes have dropped, his lips between his teeth. Jealous? Dean smiles while Sam can't see and breaks Sam's hold on his wrist, and slides his hand down, and cups the crotch of Sam's jeans where he's swelling them out. Sam jerks, eyes flying open. "Means I know what I'm doing. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam breathes, and then it's—undoing his belt, and unzipping, and then—god, he's still got his sneakers on. Dean backs off and kicks off his boots, deliberately, and Sam blinks at him hot-eyed with his chest heaving and his jeans half-open looking like a friggin porno, but then he gets with the program, and the shoes thud to the shitty carpet and then they're practically racing, undressing, and when Dean kicks his boxers off to the side Sam's—naked, half on the bed, staring at him. Dean stares back, circling a hand around Sam's ankle. God, to look at him, in the lamplight. Long legs, hairier on the shins and lightly furred on the thighs, and a decent dark bush around a dick that's—jesus, that dick. Big, bigger than Dean's, bigger than—Dean licks his lips and looks up with an effort and Sam's staring right back at him, focused between his legs, his mouth parted. "Like what you see?" Dean says, and Sam doesn't answer, just reaches for him, and Dean crawls up the bed and settles on his elbow above Sam with their legs brushing bare, Sam's dick hot against his hip, and Sam kisses him with both hands on his face, his thigh dragging up against Dean's, his lips almost trembly.

Dean soothes a hand down Sam's ribs but Sam's—fuck. Shaking. They haven't even done anything. "Sammy," Dean whispers, between Sam's needing brief kisses, and Sam shakes his head and kisses him again and then ducks his head down, his nose brushing under Dean's jaw. Dean pulls Sam closer—tips, so they're on their sides—and pulls Sam's leg over his hip, pushes in, and—ah, shit, shit that feels good, Sam's big dick brushing in against his, dragging heavy and hot. "Oh," says Sam, small, and Dean slips his hand further and grips Sam's ass, the muscle tight and small—pulls in, and pulls again, encouraging, and Sam grips Dean's shoulder underhand tight enough to hurt but follows, pushing in with the rhythm Dean's urging. He's breathing fast, hot against Dean's throat, but he's got it—humping in, meeting Dean, making their dicks slide, his cockhead smearing wet against Dean's belly. Dean hums, kissing Sam's temple where he can just reach it, just enjoying the—insane way it feels. He lets Sam's ass go and Sam keeps going—good, good—and he licks his fingers sloppy, and reaches down between them, and for the first time he gets a grip on Sam's dick, feels the heft of it. Sam makes a sound like he's been shot and Dean says shh, easy, slicking his hand down to the base, squeezing hard as he pulls back up, and Sam makes another gulping strange sound, his thigh clutching hard around Dean's hip, his hand crushing Dean's lower back in closer. "That feel good?" Dean says, and Sam—comes. Fast, humping in, spurting up Dean's belly and his own, the slick getting all over Dean's dick, hot and wet, the sensation enormous. Dean squeezes him through it, knowing, and Sam humps in again and grabs his ass, nails digging in. Dean tips his head back, feeling it. God, it's good. Sam. His brother.

He swallows. His dick's throbbing, wanting more, feeling left behind. Sammy shudders and Dean licks his lips, pushes Sam back so his shoulders hit the bed. He flops—boneless, shocked—and Dean drags his hands over Sam's ribs, frames his hips. His dick is still big, flushed and wet, his balls clutched up high, and Dean licks his lips and says, "Okay," to no one, and leans down, and gets Sam's dick in his mouth.

A shock, Sam's body practically lifting off the bed. "What," he says, somewhere Dean can't see him—"What are you, oh—" and Dean thinks, oh, what if no one has done this? What if Jenny just opened her legs and she and Sam humped awkward and teenage in some backseat—what if pre-med only wiped his handful of Sam's jizz on the mattress and passed out—what if Dean's the first one, here, opening his jaw wide, careful of his teeth, slicking down, getting the whole fat length of it in his mouth. Only—he can't, fuck, Sam's too big. He fists the base, pulls off, spits and slicks the wet down. When he glances up Sam's up on his elbows, staring, and Dean grins at him, jerks it again, swallows. He can taste Sam's jizz, leftover from coming before. "Hang on," Dean says, and goes back down, letting the head bust his lips open, slicking tight down to his fist, dragging his tongue hard against the underside, suckling easy. Sam takes his statement as an order and grips his head, his shoulder, his hips cringing up into Dean's mouth, and Dean heaves in air, feels Sam firming up again, thick and needing and good.

He's only done this a few times but he—shit, he liked it. Likes it better the other way around, of course, but like this—his dick pressing into the bed, throbbing—Sam splitting open his mouth—yeah, it doesn't exactly suck. He bobs up and down, making sure to pay special attention to the soft ridge at the head, and Sam's making insane noises, now, up above him, petting his head and his shoulders and gripping, trying to shove up. Dean leans into his hip so he can't, fists his dick, pulls off gasping and licking his lips. Sam's still staring, down the length of his torso, and Dean jerks him through the goopy mess they're making—his spit, Sam's precome, what Sam's already come. "You like it?" Dean says, and Sam—rolls his eyes, the little shit.

"You're smug," Sam says, and Dean raises his eyebrows and says, "You're damn right I am," and lets Sam's dick go and goes down, down, no fist in the way until Sam's dick hits the back of his throat and he gags—breathes through it—slurps up with tight lips and then goes right back down, getting his throat used to it, learning the feel of this massive, awesome dick. Sam moans, pushes his hips up, and Dean lets him, rides it—lets Sam fuck up, lets him get a rhythm, like fucking—Sam, fucking his face—and Dean reaches down between his own legs and fists his own dick, finally, groaning in relief and making Sam shudder as the vibration rumbles through Dean's open throat. Sam grips his head with both hands, holding him down, and Dean drags in air through his nose and holds there, filled up with Sam and choking, spit flooding out of his open mouth—the world dark and just Sam's taste, his smell—and Sam makes a little sound—and Dean grunts and lifts off, breaks Sam's hold and crawls up his body, straddling his hips and dragging his dick against where Sam's is all sloppy-hot, dripping wet. Sam gasps up at him and grabs his hips, his ass, fucking up into him, and Dean grips both their dicks in two hands, fucking into the tight wet channel he's making for them both, and Sam pulls at his ass, spreading it, rocking his hips to help, moaning and looking helpless up into Dean's face, and Dean leans down and breathes against him and Sam still comes first, creaming them both, his dick flexing and twitching in Dean's grip, and Dean braces one slick hand on the bed and fists himself seriously, jerking fast, and Sam moans and kisses his jaw and pulls at his ass with those big hands, his fingers slipping low, dipping—and Dean jerks and spills, his belly seizing, his thighs clamping around Sam's hips, Sam's lips open and dragging wet against his throat, his fist gripping the bedspread so hard that his fingers cramp.

Sam's stroking his hips, repetitive and soft, when he's done panting. Dean swallows, shifts his weight. He's slumped on top of Sam, his face buried in Sam's shoulder. Wet between them, sliding, and he releases his dick and slips his sticky hand out, bracing on the bed enough to get some air between them. When he lifts up Sam's eyes are half-closed, but he focuses on Dean's face right away, and his hands stop their stroking and just squeeze, warm and tight. "You okay?" Sam says.

"My line," Dean says, and Sam rolls his eyes again, squeezes again. Dean sits up more but Sam doesn't let go. "C'mon, we should clean up."

Sam's eyes tighten, just barely. He sits up, keeping his grip on Dean, and Dean rocks back but doesn't tip over. He gets a hand on Sam's shoulder to keep his balance and Sam says, steady, "Don't freak. Okay?"

"Who's freaking?" Their dicks are still pressed wetly together, though Dean's basically soft, now. Sam's still plump, thick. He swallows. "C'mon, we're gonna get cemented together," he says, and Sam's mouth purses but his grip goes light, and it gives enough room that Dean can lift off, get his feet under him. Jesus, there's enough jizz on him that it's rolling down his belly—he claps a hand to it before it can drop, smearing it over his abs. "You come like a geyser, dude," he says, not really complaining, but Sam's cheeks are red when he looks back up, and he feels—shit. He doesn't know.

He goes to the bathroom. Fluorescent light, pink-painted sink. He wets one of the five-cent washrags and wipes himself up, and he's not turned on anymore so his thought is mainly that it's just gross, and that bed's going to be wrecked, and also, what is he doing. What is he doing.

Sam's hand appears, reaching around him. He jumps. In the mirror behind him, Sam's tall, looking over his shoulder. Looking at Dean, even as he wets the other rag, cleans himself up. Dean chews the inside of his lip and can't really turn away. Sam's got red marks on his shoulder, where Dean was biting him.

"Stay," Sam says. He tosses his wet rag back into the sink and settles his hands on Dean's biceps, squeezing. When he steps forward his dick presses into the small of Dean's back and his chest is warm, damp. "Tomorrow at least. We've got the room. Stay."

"You want your dick sucked again?" Dean says, and that time it is mean and he did kind of mean it to be, and Sam's eyelids dip and his jaw clenches, but he only slips his hands away from Dean's arms to his ribs, holding him. It feels… Dean shakes his head. "Sam," he says, but there's not really anything that can go after it.

A big hand slides up and over, flattening on his breastbone. "It's not just this," Sam says, meeting Dean's eyes in the mirror, and it makes Dean's cheeks go hot.

He covers Sam's hand with his. He shivers, for some reason. He says, "I should take a shower, I've been in the car all day," and Sam says, "Okay," and Dean takes a shower and Sam sits on the closed toilet, watches him through the clear curtain. Gives him a towel when he comes out. Takes his hips, when he's dry, and presses him to the tiled wall, and tips his head up, and kisses him clean.

Five in the morning, or later. There's a clean bed and Dean hasn't slept in a day. He lays down and Sam lays down with him, a few inches away until Dean relents and turns over, and Sam curls up behind him, holding on, his mouth against Dean's shoulder. There's going to be a call from Dad, at some point. Dean's going to have to meet him somewhere, because there's going to be something bad that needs killing. He can't stay. He's wired and tired, all at once.

"Sleep," Sam says, and Dean turns his head against the pillow, knows he will.

"Hey," he says, and Sam makes a quiet noise. "If you put this on your journal, maybe bloodofreptile will finally shut up about you getting laid all the time."

"His name is Dennis," Sam says, and Dean laughs, weirdly glad. Dennis. Yeah, that fits. "And this isn't going on the internet."

"Probably a good idea," Dean says, and Sam says, again, "Dude, go to sleep," and Dean tips back into Sam's warmth, and does, and it's the best sleep he's gotten in a year.

[driluth]

9 or 18 take ur pick ❤

9. meeting online au

Catra doesn’t know why Adora, aka tumblr user @swordlesbian, still follows her two years after Warriors got cancelled. Well, it didn’t technically get cancelled, but most fans quit watching it after Horde Queen C’yra, She-Ra’s love interest, got killed off.

Most Warriors fans deactivated or changed their urls and moved on. Catra quit watching, so @swordlesbian is her only source for any Warriors updates. Not that she pays much attention to them, She-Ra hasn’t had another love interest since and a few more of the characters Catra’s liked have died.

Besides, Catra has moved past fandom now. She mostly reblogs pictures of song lyrics and black and white pictures of Hayley Williams. Every now and then she’ll send Adora questions for an ask meme, and Adora will do the same. But they don’t dm each other.

Until one day, she gets a notification on her phone.

@swordlesbian: hey, do u still watch warriors

@hordegf: not since they killed c’yra, why

@swordlesbian: okay i know this is a reach but i think they’re going to bring her back

@hordegf: WHAT

@swordlesbian: YEAH

@hordegf: please don’t mess with me, this show has already hurt me enough

@swordlesbian: LMAO I SWEAR

@hordegf: if they bring her back i’m going to be so mad

@swordlesbian: why would you be mad?

@hordegf: … do i really need to explain myself on this one?

@swordlesbian:

lol fair enough

They do bring C’yra back. She had faked her death this whole time. It’s awful writing. But She-Ra’s and C’yra’s actresses have such good chemistry, Catra can’t resist watching it again.

[post reblogged via @swordlesbian] #god do they have to be so hot tho #warriors #otp: promise #wait should i change my tag for them? #actually i don’t know what i should change it to #promise still holds up

[post reblogged via @swordlesbian] #can she ra not look so good while fighting? #warriors #c: warrior queen of my heart

[post reblogged via @swordlesbian] #LOOK AT THEM #they’re going to be endgame!!! #warriors #otp: promise

Catra hates that she gets excited when she sees Adora has messaged her.

@swordlesbian wow i can’t believe u became a warriors stan again, how embarassing for u

@hordegf can u leave me alone

@swordlesbian no :o) c’yra’s not with the horde anymore your url’s no longer canon

@hordegf @rebelliongf is taken :(

@swordlesbian wow that’s homophobic :o(

Adora cosplays She-Ra. With a sword and everything. If Catra wasn’t already gay before… She hesitates, but decides to message Adora anyway. She’s just some random girl online, right? So what if they’ve been mutuals for years. What’s the harm?

@hordegf it’s illegal for you to look this good cosplaying

@swordlesbian 🥺🥺🥺

Even after the final season of Warriors ends with a life altering lesbian kiss, Catra finds herself messaging Adora pretty frequently. She’s funny, and it’s nice to talk to someone who’s gay. Catra’s not out of the closet. Sure, most students at Fright University are open minded, but she doesn’t feel close enough with anyone to tell them.

She doesn’t think anyone would understand her the same way Adora does anyway.

She’s about to send Adora a meme when she sees that she has an unread message from her.

@swordlesbian: is it okay if i ask for your number?

Catra smiles. She had wanted to ask for Adora’s but she wasn’t sure if that was crossing a line or not.

@hordegf: sure

Catra sends it to her. Not even twenty seconds later she gets a text with a Crimson Waste area code.

Unknown Number hey! this adora @swordlesbian

Catra stares at it. Crimson Waste is only a three-hour long drive from Fright City. Has Adora really been that close this whole time?

Unknown Number please tell me this is the right number

Catra beams and adds Adora to her contacts.

catra: don’t worry, it’s me, catra @hordegf

adora ⚔️: thank god

catra: okay not to be creepy but

adora ⚔️: but

catra: do you live in crimson? i recognize the area code

adora ⚔️: i’m from there! i go to school in bright moon tho

Catra’s heart sinks. Of course Adora goes to Bright Moon. That explains all the studyspo posts.

And that means she’s a five hour flight away.

catra: cool

adora ⚔️: wait if you know the area code, where are you from?

catra: i’m in fright city rip

adora ⚔️: no way!! that’s so close! i visit home in three weeks for fall break... would you wanna meet up sometime? i can borrow my mom’s car. i actually love driving to fright city haha

Catra sucks in a breath. It hits her suddenly, that she actully has a chance to meet Adora.

And that Adora would drive three hours to see her.

It’s dumb, but Catra will let herself hold on to this feeling.

catra: yeah, that sounds great!!

adora⚔️: :o)

(They talk to each other on the phone every day. The day before they meet, Adora asks her out. Catra says yes. When they meet, Adora is much taller than Catra expected, which wouldn’t be an issue if they weren’t kissing so much.)

[nikatyler]

random questions game

Tagged by @kbeesims. Thank you very much! I’m taking a break from studying rn, so let’s do this.

1. why did you choose your url?

Nika is actually one of the first things I’ve ever called myself as a kid and last year I decided to sort of “reclaim” this old nickname and start using it again in online places and I’m surprised by how right it feels.

As for Tyler, well. I think it’s obvious. In my head he’s the main character of this blog, the mascot, if you will. And also, and this is a bit embarrassing, but about a month or two ago I saw this post that was like “changing names shouldn’t be such a big deal, we expect trans people to do it if they’re uncomfortable with their birth name, but we should normalize EVERYONE changing their names if they’re not okay with it” (or something along these lines). And well, I like my name, but I thought, what if I didn’t like it, what would I pick instead. Immediately, this one popped up in my head. Yeah. I mean it makes sense to me, but it feels so dumb at the same time. So yeah. I guess if you called me Tyler, I would respond to it. I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that I would respond to it, but hey. It’s weird but it would work.

2. any sideblogs? name them and why you have them.

The only one that is still active is my cc finds blog @simmeronnie-cc (yes I need to rename it too, we’ll do that). I don’t really post on my sort-of-studyblr-but-more-like-a-rantblr sideblog or my simspiration blog anymore. Among other things, I rant on twitter again (@/nikatyler22 if anyone’s interested), and I need to bring back the simspo tag on this blog.

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

Almost five years. I refuse to believe that.

4. do you have a queue tag?

I do. Well, I schedule my posts manually, I don’t queue them (because earlier this year I noticed it would eat at least one post a day, so I stopped using it), but still. I don’t know what I’d do without this function haha

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

There was this blog that did this really cool comic with very pretty characters. That’s what convinced me lol, even though my content has never been like theirs.

6. why did you choose your icon?

Because Tyler lol

7. why did you choose your header?

Because Tyler and Sharon and I want to have what they have dAMMIT

But I might change the picture for the one I posted yesterday, you know, the awkward one

8. whats your post with the most notes?

That would be the pride paints post I believe!

9. how many mutuals do you have?

I don’t know, but a lot I think? At least in the simple sense of “I follow you and you follow me.” I never counted it. I’m not sure how many people would actually consider me their mutual or online friend or something like that. I hope someone would haha

10. how many followers do you have?

Over 2 000. What the heck. I mean, not many people are actually active and I think most of them don’t even lurk, but it’s still a pretty cool number

11. how many people do you follow?

I checked and it’s 183. I can’t realistically keep up with all of them but at the same time I’d feel bad for unfollowing any of them

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

My entire blog is a big shitpost tbh, and I wouldn’t have it any other way ✌✨

13. how often do you use tumblr a day?

I usually keep the tab open all day and just check it from time to time. I’m not counting

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

Oooooh boy

Yes. I was dumb, okay? Very dumb.

15.  how do you feel about “you need to reblog” posts?

Those scared me when I was younger, I remember I couldn’t sleep when I was like 8 and saw one of those “repost this or you’ll die in 7 days” pictures. Now I’m okay with them, I just scroll past. Usually. Sometimes I still get nervous. Don’t post them, guys. You can really hurt people with anxiety and similar issues.

16. do you like tag games?

Y E S

17. do you like ask games?

Y E S   Y E S   Y E S   PLEASE SEND ME ASKS

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

One that immediately comes to my mind is @berrysweetboutique. I can’t believe such a big simblr is following me and seeing my daily pixel clownery on their dash :D

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

I don’t, but back in the day, I used to sort of put some simblrs on pedestals and then act in a way that I thought they would like, if that makes sense, and I was really insecure about what they would think, and if we started talking I was so worried I’d say or do something wrong and it was all in all not a great experience. I know it’s not a crush in the romantic sense, but it reminds me of how sometimes you’d go and try to impress a crush and change yourself so that they like you too. I guess they were sort of crushes in the sense of “oh wow this person is so amazing and perfect, I’m so little next to them, they could probably never love me the same way I love them”. Anyway, once you let go of that mentality and just start doing whatever, without trying to impress anyone...oh that freedom is sweet.

Sorry, went off topic here 😅

20. tags?

I’m just gonna tag whoever wants to do this, go make another cup of coffee and go back to my 19th century poetry 😄

[electricea-a]

So.

I’m sure some eagle-eyed bloggers have already taken notice of the URL change and while I thought of putting this up tomorrow, I just wanted to say this all really quickly tonight.  I rebooted this blog some years ago and I honestly feel like it was one of the best decisions I made on here.  I got to reconnect with older muns and even had a chance to get to know some of them better and at the same time, I got to meet lots of new people too as they came and went.  Some are still active, some are not but such is roleplaying.

I know this probably isn’t really a surprise, I’ve alluded to this before.  To be honest, I’ve been setting and moving goal posts for myself in regards to this - like at first it was, ‘I’m gonna reboot in the new year, make it official’, which then became ‘well I’m gonna reboot after Halloween’ and the more I kind of thought about, the more I realized there wasn’t any real reason to procrastinate on this.  I’m still gonna write, I’m still gonna do all of the things I wanted to do before, a new URL won’t really change things.  But change is always still kind of scary nevertheless and my 2021 resolution (because 2020 is cancelled for me) has been to try and keep an open mind and do things, even if they’re scary.

If this post comes off as rambly or weird, I apologize, this was kind of a spur of the moment decision that just kind of came to me.  First and foremost, I want to make it clear that this is only goodbye to this specific blog and this specific URL.  This is not goodbye to Jassi, or Ryuji or to electricea, or to Tumblr.  Maybe it will be in a few years, but for now, this is only a goodbye to a blog that I feel has been around for a good long while and now it’s time for a reboot, for a change.

I don’t think I’m cut out to be one of those muns who can stay on the same blog for years and years and juggle a great deal of followers - to those who can, I have the utmost admiration and respect for, but I think I’m the sort of ‘reboot every few years’ sort of person.  Even though I feel like I have taken great strides in many areas, I do sometimes feel a bit overwhelmed and a bit stressed and I’ll be completely honest, my inactivity has been due to these negative feelings and to mood drops - it’s nobody’s fault and I’m certainly not blaming anyone.  As I said before, I made this worse for myself by setting and moving goal posts when I could have rebooted ages ago and you guys have never been the issue at all.  You guys have given me a hundred reasons to smile and a hundred hours of laughs and good times and so many unique plots and threads that have come and gone and I hope I could do the same for you.

I guess where this whole ramble is kind of leading up to is - I’m rebooting.  If you want to find me, it’s the exact same URL - electricea.  It might be a little wonky because I’m still waiting for the 24 hour change to take effect but it is the same URL as before, it is by the same mun and hopefully will have the same great experience.  Also, when I say reboot I just want to clarify - for anyone worried that all ships or interactions will suddenly be whited out and Thanos snapped out of existence, that will only happen if you want it to. If you IM me on the new blog tomorrow and be like ‘hey we had a ship before i’d like to continue’ or even just be like ‘hey, how about a shippy thread?’ I would be perfectly down with picking things back up where we left off.  This reboot is moreso for myself than anything else, I’m not trying to wipe away and all past interactions or ships here.  I would hope you could still approach me and we could write together comfortably.

Also, just a final note - thanks for making the original reboot some time ago some of the best times I’ve had on Tumblr yet.  You made the time on that blog really special and I’m grateful I got to meet a lot of cool folks.  If you wish to part ways from here, I completely understand and I wish you nothing but the best and harbor no hard feelings.  Thank you for the memories and enjoy your time.  To those who do - and hopefully will (lol) wish to follow me, I’ll put us all out of our misery with this long post and just say uh, see you on the new blog, I hope! Thanks again!

[bemtevis]

different anon but I can 1000% confirm that cc has what i, as a person critical of cc, an uncomfortably close relationship with several of her fans. (warning for mentions of old discourse and a pretty long rant ahead)

I don't remember when i followed you/how long you''ve been in the fandom, but for context back sometime in the latter half of 2020 there was a huge fandom implosion because of the way cc (and half the fandom) bullied and spread hate about a reader who leaked the arc of lbotw, which resulted in a new wave of discussions about the issues with cc and her books. Some people left the fandom completely, some changed urls away from tsc related ones, and some people deleted sideblogs entirely.

It was at this time that I was blocked by two specific users who I was mutuals with because I had reblogged some anti cc posts. Their position was that because cc's books had helped them through a rough time and figure things out for themselves that there could be nothing wrong with her or any content she produced. During these few days of discourse they defended characters whenever they were criticized for offensive or harmful canon behaviors, made multiple posts shading poc fans, and victimized themselves when people pointed out that they could like an author's works and characters while acknowledging their problems and separating the content from the creator. After this discourse kinda started to die down they were constantly posting about how awesome cc was and sending cc asks that as an outsider reminded me of when a kid in class always tried to compliment teachers for better grades/more attention/to seem better than the other students. I mean they were sharing some seriously personal information. (its also worth noting that they were all adults and insulted/directly went after minors in the fandom.)

(I really hope this is ok, I don't want to bring discourse up or bring problems for you, my only goal was to confirm what the other anon was saying and maybe warn you to stay away from these guys I guess?? I'm not really in the fandom anymore, you're actually one of the only tsc blogs I follow, but I really appreciate your blog and think you're really cool! please don't post this if it's going to bring you any issues on your blog)))))

Hm. Of course she does

I have been on the fandom for almost two years, though I only got on Tumblr about a year and a half ago. I remember that happening but I didn't know it was so bad, what the hell?

I hate those kinds of people, like. If her books helped you, that's great and I'm happy for you, I don't think there's anything inherently bad about that! Now, when they use that to deny the harm she's caused, that's so frustrating JFC. And not only to deny it, but to actively ignore and shade people's (very valid) opinions? Ugh, that must have been awful

THEY WERE ADULTS GOING AFTER MINORS OMG WHAT

I got an anon ask a while ago that I never answered (sorry ah) and from what I remember, that person had been blocked by CC for being critical of her. If that's true, or even if not actually, she's actively ignoring people's concerns and criticism. It makes sense for her to favoritize people who do the same lol

Don't worry, I don't think it'll bring me any issues! Ty for the ask and ty 💖💖

[cryptidunknown]

Get To Know Me Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @midnight-reader-morning-sleeper ❤️❤️

Why did you choose your URL? I just think cryptids are neat (even if I don’t really believe in them) and my cousin jokes about me being a cryptid, so I guess that’s what inspired it. I’m also nerdy. I thought about yourlocalforestcryptid but it felt too wordy and nerdycryptid just had a better ring to it. My old URL was theravenclawpotato, but I changed it bc it made it seem like I’m a Harry Potter blog

Any side blogs? I have @casperthefriendlysnake , which is my reptiblr blog that’s been slightly neglected recently, and @nerdycryptidart which is an art blog that has been neglected for a while

How long have you been on tumblr? About 3 years I think? I’ve had this account for about 2 years and I had another account before this for about a year.

Do you have a queue tag? Nope I don’t queue things I just spam my followers with my latest obsession and then disappear for 3 days straight

Why did you start your blog in the first place? For my first account: I just wanted to look at some fandom stuff more conveniently and didn’t plan on actually posting but I kinda got sucked in. For this account: My old blog was full of fandoms that I had mostly grown out of and stuff I didn’t really like anymore so I just wanted a fresh start. For the art sideblog: I don’t post art much and wanted people to be able to see it without having to sift through all the stuff on my main. For the reptiblr sideblog: I reblog a lot of reptiblr stuff to the point I felt it called for a second blog lol

Why did you choose your icon/pfp? It’s an Inktober drawing a did a couple years ago that I liked, and thought would make a nice pfp. And I just like Gravity Falls

Why did you choose your header? It’s a redraw of an Inktober I did once that I thought would be a good size for a header. I also think it suits me and my blog

What’s your post with the most notes? At least half the reblogs on this are from the hell-propaganda addition but I still keep it because some folks still appreciate my original bad joke (linked at the bottom because tumblr mobile exists to spite me)

How many followers do you have? 254

How many people do you follow? 176. I need more lol

Have you made a shit post? Almost every post I’ve ever made falls somewhere on the shitpost spectrum

How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts? Not really a fan. It feels guilttrippy. I think it’s very cool that people use this platform for good but I think we should also respect that some people get on here just for fun and to escape real life and shouldn’t be pressured into reblogging something. It’s also not cool to judge someone’s morals based on whether or not they reblog something

Do you like tag games? I love them, they’re a lot of fun! Though I often forget to do them 😅 Also I usually just put “tagging anyone who wants to play” because a lot of my mutuals are mutuals with my other mutuals and have probably already been tagged in it lol. I also like to hop in on “tagging anyone who wants to play” ones sometimes myself so yeah

Do you like ask games? Yes, they’re fun!

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? I don’t think I have any that are really famous but I do have some that have been on here forever and have like so many mutuals and it’s just like How

Do you have a crush on a mutual? I don’t have a crush period tbh

Tagging anyone who would like to play!

[liyuesbian]

yeah I honestly liked all of the inazuma 5* quests we've done so far! I think they all added something to those respective characters, save for ayaka's (it did further her characterization but also,,, a literal date. I think it was endearing but it made her feel kinda 2d? idk) I feel like the first two were kinda filler mostly because 2.0 was sorta the calm before the storm,,, (although why were we so passive fjdsfks i feel like the traveler needs to seek out stuff by themselves more lmao) raiden is finally someone who's both girlboss and kind and not reduced to either extreme (or limited to "(hot) wife material"), which is very very good

about the archons: YEAH I love Zhongli very much but I think he owes the adepti (at least) a Full explanation... he did mention that he hinted to both the Qixing and adepti that he's not dead but ganyu's dialogue when we were getting glaze lilies for the rite of parting AAAA I was so miffed Zhongli couldn't have taken her aside to tell her right there. Xiao too, literally they would be so worried for him and they deserve to hear it from him personally dammit >:|

I think the reasoning for the "test" was like. the traveler has a voiceline that basically says: if people knew Morax walked through Liyue every day, they would just go to him for advice, hang onto his every word and try to analyze and reanalyze it all the time, like with Ningguang's paper snow. I feel like that would be the scenario if Morax stepped down peacefully, since everyone would know he still exists; he doesn't get a good retirement and Liyue still relies on gods too much. trying to drown the city was a bit overkill (childe... o-o) but I will hesitantly trust Zhongli when he says he could and would save Liyue if it truly needed him.

also true true! the people still really believe in the archons, even with barbatos who's been absent for so long (venti...), and even after their gnoses are gone and all. it's cool how they have vastly different governance styles but their whole nation More or Less respects them

baal/ei hate is so uncalled for though wtf. At least Raiden's still doing her job unlike her slacking coworkers Zhongli and Venti. and regardless of whether she's done right or wrong, people can like fictional characters who've done bad things.... why must you inject morality into your personal faves :| (genshin fandom highkey sucks oml)

yeah!! the resistance barely got a mention except for Gorou in the end scene, and it's like ??? the war is over? or? it just went by too fast and it felt like in the end the resistance were mere pawns, since the real stuff was resolved by us and Yae (paimon's line that's like "they aren't a match for the raiden shogun" at the battle cutscene is the epitome of the resistance in 2.3)

nobody has explained to me how the resistance got into Tenshukaku/Inazuma City in the first place either 😩 it is nice to see you, Kazuha and Gorou, but what are you doing here?

-welcometoteyvat (eh you can call me by mystic or my url lol, I don't really care, and I think I returned your rant with a longer rant too hsdfsa)

AJWADAH hi mystic! i love how this turned into a "thoughts about 2.1!" discussion into a whole genshin discussion #''1?2!! AND I'M ALL FOR THIS BACK AND FORTH THING

(here we go again, 2.1 spoilers below the cut)

yes!! this date thing with the female characters needs to stop... and actually, i would've loved to know more about baal's friends in the actual story quest (like with venti) instead of having to explore inazuma to find out more (but i will admit that i do lowkey like how the lore is hidden inside teyvat's nooks and crannies but in the case of la signora... not really. we should've learned more abt her first before her death instead of us having to look at an artifact set's description. i'll forgive mhy for this though - maybe we'll get to know her more when snezhnaya releases) and i share your sentiments about raiden/ei! what a girlboss!

MHM i wasn't gonna get into the whole thing with the adepti and venti's extreme laziness but hey, it's here now lmao and right?! but hinting is not good enough for me >:( AHHAHA he owes xiao and ganyu so much they're basically avid followers of his and they have history togther but he doesn't even tell them the truth?! >:(

yepp i remember that but even then, he could've just said "yo i'm stepping down. you won't know who i am bc i'll be anonymous or whatever"... and it seems like zhongli had already integrated himself well in liyue. nobody questioned his sudden appearance or mentions when he came to be wangsheng's consultant (maybe there is but i can't rmbr anything off the top of my head)

RIGHT?! goddamn raiden is trying her best out here!! i'm not excusing her actions or ei's ignorance towards the inazuman modern society pre-raiden quest but she's still trying to run her country and the corruption of a certain influential department didn't rly help either. (and yep the genshin fandom does suck D: we don't have to "moralise" every aspect of fiction!!)

exactlyyyy and again, traveller saves the day !!!! i get that they have main character armour or wtv but still, aren't they a bit too invincible? they defeated an actual ARCHON on the second try && i can't believe it only took two people to stop an entire war which had people suffering, trying to escape inazuma and the tenryou commission and some even went MAD and had personality changes when they lost their visions but now it's all fine and dandy?

OH MY GOD that's true! i didn't think about that.. how did the resistance get into tenshukaku so quickly when they were, what, two islands away?

sigh 2.1 was messy

[bibbawrites]

What’s In A Name - Dad!Owen x Pregnant!Female Reader

Request: NONE

Word Count: 1028 words 

Summary: Part 3 of the Dad!Owen series, the gender reveal plus you and Owen spend some quality time discussing names for Baby Joyner 

Warnings: none? one use of the word dumbass lol i think that’s all?

A/N: part 3 here we go! i just thought this would be a cute little one to write (and yes it is little, sorry that its so short!), the gender reveal plus just chatting about baby names the name that you guys chose as the winner is in here but you won’t find out which one it actually is until she’s born hehe

if you have any ideas of what you’d like to see in the dad!owen series feel free to send them my way! 

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added, removed or if you change your url): @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ @littlemissaddict @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @headheartbellarke @lovesanimals​ @bartok-the-bat @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 

Time had flown since you had found out you were pregnant. It seemed like only yesterday that you were staring at those two pink lines on the pregnancy test, not knowing what was going on, and now you were getting ready to find out gender of the little baby inside you. 

Owen had been convinced the entire pregnancy that you were having a girl, telling everyone you knew, and frankly, you were worried what would happen if the confetti that exploded out wasn’t baby pink. 

You sighed, resting your hand on your tiny bump. There was no changing it now, Owen would just have to deal with it. 

“Y/N, you almost ready?” Owen’s voice came from the other side of the door and you took a deep breath. 

“Yeah I’m ready.” You opened the door, smiling when you found your boyfriend in the pastel pink hoodie he wore as Alex. He scanned your own outfit, a white dress with both pink and blue flowers on it. 

“Didn’t want to pick a side?” He teased, pulling you into a soft kiss, his hand going straight to your stomach. You smiled against his lips. 

“You know me, the indecisive bitch.” You replied and he giggled slightly. 

“If you’re ready to go we should head out. Charlie and Sav said to be there by 11 and it’s 10:30 now.” He told you and you nodded. 

The little gender reveal was going to be happening on set. You all spent most of your time there and you both figured that it was the perfect place to find out what the baby was. 

You linked your hand with Owen’s and the two of you headed out of the apartment and down to Owen’s car. 

In less than an hour you would know the gender of the baby. 

Kenny had allowed Savannah and Charlie to deck out the garage with decorations, and the two of them had set up the perfect little gender reveal, with balloons and streamers and tiny cupcakes. 

You smiled as you took in the sight. Savannah grinned at you from across the room, rushing over quickly to pull you into a hug. 

“I can’t wait for you to find out, it’s been killing Charlie and I.” She said and you laughed. The decision had been made to let both Savannah and Charlie find out the gender so that they could plan the party and you knew that they could both be trusted with the secret. 

“Well its finally time.” You replied, glancing around at the cast members who had filled the room, all wearing various shades of pink, blue or both, and both your family and Owen’s family on facetime calls being held by Jeremy. 

“Everyone ready?” You asked loudly, and everyone cheered in response. You joined Owen in the middle of the room, taking one of the confetti poppers from his hand. 

“Speech!” Charlie called from the side of the room and you and Owen exchanged a look. 

“Okay, well, we just wanna say thank you to everyone for being here and celebrating Baby Joyner, and we love you all.” Owen said. You nodded. 

“Also thank you to Sav and Char for setting this up.” You added, smiling at your two best friends. 

“Okay, are we gonna do this?” Owen looked at you. You smiled. 

“Let’s do it.” You agreed. “You guys wanna give us a countdown?” 

“Three!” 

“Two!”

“One!” 

On one both you and Owen twisted the poppers, and instantly the room was filled with shiny pink confetti.

“I knew it!” Owen exclaimed, picking you up and spinning you around as you laughed loudly. He placed you down and you pulled him in for a kiss. 

“You were right.” You said, grinning as the rest of the cast rushed in to engulf you in big group hug. You couldn’t stop smiling, the overwhelming feeling of love was insane. 

You could feel Owen’s hands on your stomach and you shut your eyes for a second. 

You were having a baby girl. 

And you couldn’t wait to meet her. 

Later that evening you and Owen were curled up in your bed, Nickelodeon playing softly on the TV since Owen insisted his little girl be “educated on good kids TV”. 

Owen had his head resting in your lap and his arms were wrapped around your tiny baby bump. You ran a hand through his hair and smiled. 

“You know, now that we know for certain she’s a girl, we should probably start talking about names.” You spoke up. Owen glanced up at you. 

“This suddenly just feels really real.” He admitted softly. You lent down and kissed the top of his head. 

“Don’t stress, it’s okay.” You whispered. He smiled slightly. 

“I know it will be. Cause we’re doing this together, and everything is always okay when we’re together.” He said and you rolled your eyes. 

“Calm down Romeo.” You teased and he giggled. “So, names?”

He pulled a face as he thought. 

“I’ve always liked the name Theo.” He said after a second. “Theo Joyner.” 

“Cute.” You replied, still playing with his hair. “What about Carla or Ella?” 

“I like them. I also like Aurora, like the princess.” Owen smiled. You giggled. 

“Okay Prince Charming.” You said and Owen groaned. 

“That’s Cinderella’s prince, dumbass. Aurora’s prince was Prince Phillip.” He told you and you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“Oh I’m sorry Mr Disney Princess expert.” You retorted and Owen grinned. “Any other names?” 

Owen paused again. 

“What about Olivia? Ooh or Diana.” He suggested. 

“Ooh I like them. Diana’s a bit unusual nowadays though, where’d you get that from?” You questioned. Owen looked away guiltily. 

“The One Direction song.” He admitted and you laughed. 

“Of course. Olivia too, right?” You asked and he nodded. You shook your head slightly. 

“You’re such a dork Owen Patrick Joyner.” You said and he grinned up at you. 

“But I’m your dork, right?” He tried, and you nodded. 

“And baby girl’s dork.” You added, and he smiled, squeezing his arms around your bump gently. 

You lent down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“And we wouldn’t change you for the world.” 

[rock-it-tonight]

Thank you for the tag @quirkysubject and @killerqueeens! I loved reading ya’ll’s answers! <3 1. Why did you choose your url?

Rock It Tonight (Prime Jive) is just a complete bop to shake down to LBR.

2. Any side blogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them

This is my side-blog lmao fingersfallingupwards is my main that got turned into a Beatles blog. When I decided that ‘liking’ queen content wasn’t enough tho, I thought it made sense to make a Queen blog that I could use for that content

3. How long have you been on Tumblr?

Oh god, 2013? I take breaks, don’t worry.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

On my main, I used to use ‘love me queue’ but now I’m just too lazy haha.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

to look at pictures of Queen to get inspired and also serotonin. Honestly, this whole “talking to people” and “having fandom friends” is a new thing for me but it’s an interesting thing u can also do on tumblr! (who’d a thunk it???)

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Roger rocks a mullet-- something no one NO ONE should be able to do.

7. Why did you choose your header?

No reason! I’m not committed to it really.

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

God, on this blog? Probably someone else’s reblog hahaha! On my main I’m pretty sure it’s a Beatles meme or the time the Apollo 11 crew joked about asking the Beatles for money while on their mission.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

No idea!

10. How many followers do you have?

This blog? 177 strong! My main is 1k+ but it’s mostly dead accounts, I assure you lmao.

11. How many people do you follow?

2,000+! Always looking for more content.

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

not on rock-it-tonight. I should change that!

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?

uhhhhhhhhh only after work usually.

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

Nope! I fucking hate internet drama. Throwing rocks into the sky.

15. How do you feel about 'you need to reblog this’ posts?

Don’t tell me what to do lol. Also I prefer not to spread the pressure to my followers, esp because some people do get anxious from the “you will die if you don’t reblog” BS.

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes! they’re really fun!

17. Do you like ask games?

Haha, I have never done one actually. I think I’m too afraid no one would show up LMAO

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

Literally everyone who isn’t me hahaha. I love everyone’s hot takes!!!

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Closest would be my beta JOHNJIE  but since we are the same pile of vaguely human-looking parts, that’s a given I feel lol.

20. Tags: @yasmamamercury @rushingheadlong @johndykeon @peachydeacon and anyone else really! No pressure, but I’d love to see ur answers if you wanna share em! <3

[samgiddings]

Check-In Tag

Stole this from @cluelesslesbian bc it looks fun and i'm bored >:)c (yes I should be doing homework, no don't worry abt it)

anyone who wants to do this, go ahead and say I tagged u bc i'm officially tagging u mentally rn <3

1. why did you choose your url?

LOL because I came back to tumblr solely to be an Until Dawn blog. When Rush of Blood came out I was lucky enough to snag a canon URL so I've held onto it ever since!

2. any side blogs? if you have them: name them and why you have them

Um ok like a million. I'm not going to tag them all but I have one that's just for random posts I want to find later/don't feel like tagging, my old art one (rip), my miraculous ladybug one, my total drama one, my art archive one, uhhhhhhhhhh a vent one, ummm idk probably a lot more i'm forgetting :')

3. how long you’ve been on tumblr?

too long LMAO. This blog was made in 2016 but my original blog was made in March 2013!

4. do you have a queue tag?

yesssss #nice queuein' tex

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

This one I really only started because I got this URL, but when I started my OG, it was bc I had a couple friends telling me to get tumblr :)

6. why did you choose your icon?

Aughhhh it's my FAVOURITE THING EVER!!! I commissioned it from @reallyhardydraws and I'm not sure I'll change it bc I'm obsessed w/ it. Plus it matches the url haha.

7. why did you choose your header?

I think I've had the same one since I first started this blog? It's just a random picture I took a long time ago while going through the mountains.

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

The cinematic parallels one LOOL. I think it's at 145k as of today? And then after that it's that name one at around 115k I think. I'm still holding out for orple juice though 😤

9. how many mutuals do you have?

44, not counting doubles :)

10. how many followers do you have?

26k (as far as u know 😘)

11. how many people do you follow?

107!

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

um when have I not. lbr that's this blog's legacy. even when I was solely an until dawn blog, I was popular for memes and shit posts.

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

usually once in the morning, once or twice in the afternoon, then twice in the evening. idk bc I don't follow a ton of ppl I usually catch up with my dash in like 10 minutes tops.

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

yes <3 i used to get into a lot of until dawn drama bc I was fed up with the tag being exclusively ppl hating on ashley and/or emily. now i'm old and don't really care enough to, plus the fandom is practically dead. in those cases idk if anyone won bc usually both sides were too stubborn to change their opinions.

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

hate them. if a post says that I will not reblog it. I hate the guilt-trippiness of it. I don't rlly care when ppl I follow rb them tho, it's more just the person who says "you need to reblog this" that gets on my nerves lol.

16. do you like tag games?

yes bc I love talking abt myself!! <3

17. do you like ask games?

see above! <3 <3

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

me <3 um jk that doesn't count. i'd say mel or ciaran strange probably??? lolol

19. do i have a crush on a mutual?

hahahahahahahahahaha 🤩🤩🤩idk maybe but @alternative-girlfriend is cute 😳